#anyway just send me a pairing and the prompt you want and happy holidays you guys 💕

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 25. fuck party

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “merry christmas”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ the ministry is all decorated in festive decor and it truly feels like the holidays are in season! now… what do these ghouls want to do with you?

pairing: era iv nameless ghouls x gn!reader

a/n: first off i just want to apologize for the last few days being so late. i really did try my best to make sure that each day had a good fic. this is the only fic that doesn’t really follow the prompt, but i tried my best. consider this fic a nice little letter for the start of 2024. happy new year, and please enjoy !!!

cw: slight nsfw content. horny ghouls. poly ghouls. implied orgy near the end. there’s nothing nsfw that really happens, just mentioned.

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“we want to make this holiday special, dear. come on down to the nave of the ministry… you won’t be disappointed. merry christmas, sweetheart~” —❤︎

┅✦┅

the entire month has been a rollercoaster of emotions. each day you felt like something wild and absolutely ecstatic happens to you every day. it has only made your holiday season more and more interesting.

and now here you were, all cozied and nestled in your room, the scent of roasted chestnuts and currier ives lingering in the air. you sat atop your wooly quilt, with eight different letters in hand.

the slips were underneath your door when you came back from a long shift of working in the ministry. they were all decorated and colored differently, each envelope having its own unique flair and personality to it. you didn’t even have to read the names to know who’s was who.

smiling to yourself, you opened each letter one by one, excited to read what’s inside.

—

you had started off with the shiny white envelope. it was decorated in cute stationary stickers and the front was written in a glittery pink pen. at the bottom left corner of the envelope was a pink laced ribbon tied neatly with your name on it. if there was anyone that loved colors more than the entire human population, it was your favorite colorful ghoulette.

“aurora’s letter of thanks”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ to my dear y/n,

hello my darling! i hope this letter reaches you well, because i know how the others can get at times~ happy holidays, my love. i know that this month has been busy for you because of the constant yule traditions, but i’m delighted that you were able to make some time for me and that we could make gingerbread houses together like usual! and i gotta say… your tongue skills never fail to impress me~ you made me come so hard i swore i was going to pass out!! but really though… thanks for being such a sweetie to me, the ministry really doesn’t deserve you. i hope to see you soon for our little surprise~

with lots of love,

aurora ghoulette

—

the next envelope was colored in a dreamy grey, with cute hearts inked in pen on the cover, it gave off a much more serene and calm vibe compared to the vibrant letter of aurora’s. at the back was a little pocket that contained a written song. after careful observing, you had determined it belonged to an infamous air ghoulette. oh what a songbird she was.

“cumulus’ dreamy songbird”

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫༄ؘ hello darling ♡︎

what a beautiful winter night, is it not? i often like to be in touch with nature when i’m writing, helps me keep my mind at center. how have you been, darling? i hope you’ve been better after our little passionate night in bed. you were so cute with how you were eagerly trying to get my lingerie off… it was charming, really. though, putting the promiscuity aside, i just want to really want to send this love letter to you as a token of my thanks. you’re my little songbird, and you inspire me to do better, whether it’s songwriting or performing. so as a token of my gratitude.. i’ve prepared a … special song for you. i hope you like it. anyways… come see me later, i’ll sing it.. specially for you~ i love you, dove, and i wish you a happy new year ♡︎♡︎♡︎

your dearest,

cumulus ghoulette

—

the texture of the next letter was earthy and coarse, but it emitted the soft aroma of fresh pine leaves. it seems that this letter was specially crafted personally for you. just from the scent and touch alone, you smiled to yourself knowing it came from a certain earth ghoul. upon opening it, there was a little sunflower necklace attached to the sand paper letter.

“mountain’s delighted memories”

*:..｡o○ to y/n,

hope you’re doing well, and that this year has been treating you well. i appreciate you approaching me that night… and throwing me into the passions of bed. i gotta say, those faces you made when i came deep inside of you, filling you up with me seed, it still gets me going. just being honest here. the reason i’m bringing this up is well… i want to make more memories like that with you. ones that we can share together, and make ourselves feel like we’re ascending to the heavens we can’t reach. you’re really someone that makes me want to just go all out, and in many ways. which is why my gift to you this year.. is going to be imprinted into your mind for eons to come. so, if you want to find more… stop by soon please, i’ll be waiting. ‘till then, have a good christmas.

from your love,

mountain ghoul

—

this paper was crumpled and slightly torn. it looked like it was made in a rush, but it held a certain charm to it. there were little trinkets and treats attached to the letter, all of which had a cute homemade vibe to it. the faded streaks of purple pen gave away who it belonged to, and you couldn’t be more happy when a certain bug came to mind.

“phantom’s sweet treats”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ hi y/n!

i missed you :(( and i know that we live in the same ministry, but you’re so busy and i barely get to see you! which is why i dragged you out to ‘look for a christmas tree’ with me. i gotta say, i was nervous… but seeing how you reacted when i pounded you against that tree.. satanas, still sends shivers down my spine. after that night, i just can’t stop thinking about you. the way you reacted to my touch, oh it was so good. i put together some handmade goodies for you, hope you like them. think of it as my way of saying thanks for a good night :) on that note, i’m sure the other letters have talked about meeting in a special place. i’ll be there, and i’ll be sure to give you all of my attention <3

love,

phantom ghoul

—

closing the envelope shut, you grabbed the next one. lipstick marks stained the paper perfectly, imprinting kisses everywhere. looking at the particular shade of red of the lipstick, you instantly thought of a certain keyboardist. there was a soft pink rose attached underneath the slip, and you opened the envelope with ease.

“cirrus’ gratitude”

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ evening darling,

i take that christmas has been well for you, huh? it certainly seems like it has been, considering how you were with me during that night in the log cabin ;)) we have to do that more often, sweetheart. you were so cute, with how your face was squished up against the window while i went to town on you… oh, still gets me wet, i can’t lie. it’s one of my favorite memories this season, and for that, i thank you. thanks for being such a delightful and loving partner. you’re honestly a saving grace for me, and you always make me feel good, both in and out of the bedroom. honestly, i’ve never met someone as good in bed as you are. so, as a token of my gratitude, i want you to meet me with the other ghouls tonight. it’ll be fun sweetheart, i promise.

from your dearest,

cirrus ghoulette ❤︎

—

looking at the next letter with intrigue, you were greeted with a faint smell of cologne, the scent of it was soft and reminded you of the beach. laced over the envelope was a red ribbon with seashells and shark tooth carved trinkets at the end. what a gorgeous sight. you opened it, and smiled upon recognizing the stunning calligraphy ingrained on the paper.

“rain’s poem”

｡･ﾟﾟ･ dear y/n,

having a good christmas? you better be, otherwise i’ll make sure you are. but for real though, i’m sure this year has been great for you. i would also like to thank you for.. ‘helping’ me with my own personal gift. you looked so goddamn good tied up in my bed like that. i’ll admit, i got carried away with my words, but i know damn well you were into me treating you like my bitch while i dicked you down on the mattress. though, that made me realize how much you love my honeyed words, so i’ll use this opportunity to praise instead to degrade. y/n, you’re an absolute starlight in my life, a treasure like no other. i’d move the heavens and pits for you. it’s cheesy, but it’s true, and i promise to show you how much i love you in any way i can. come by soon ❦

from your favorite water boy,

rain ghoul

—

the next letter had an ashy and brazened texture, but it shone with a brimstone-like layer to it. the paper was slightly calloused, and there was a fiery flair to it that could only be from one infamous firecracker you knew of. popping off the sloppily made wax seal, you opened it to find an equally burnt letter, but the sight made you smile.

“sodo’s confessions”

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 to my y/n,

i’d ask you how you’re doing n’ shit, but i’m not good with words, or greetings nonetheless. so to get things out of the way, i’m going to be as straightforward as possible. y/n, i want to fuck you so badly this christmas right now. that night we shared, in my bedroom, fuck that was so hot. i loved the way you reacted every time i brought the candle wax down on your body. you looked so goddamn sexy covered in all of that… and the memory still makes my dick so hard. call me a pervert or whatever, but i’m proud to be one for you. i can’t help myself when i’m around you. your body, your scent, everything, it drives me fucking insane. don’t tell the other ghouls, but you’re my favorite, and i really can’t figure out why… guess i’m just so drawn to you. at midnight, when you meet the others, i’ll be sure to let them know who can make you feel the best in bed. and that’s not a threat, that’s a fucking promise. but ‘till then, i’ll be waiting for you, sweet thing

i love you,

sodo ghoul

—

the final letter had a reddish stain on it. bringing it closer to your nose, you got a faint whiff of red whine from the stain. the designs on the letter were intricate and creative, but there was a suave and sultry feel to this letter. if there was any infernal who knew how to be smooth, it was a certain multi ghoul with the voice of an angel.

“swiss’ invitation”

❤︎*♡∞:｡.｡ to my love,

welcome, darling~ i know how much you like the smell of wine, so i indulged you a bit in my envelope for you. merry christmas, and thank you for being such a passionate lover. gotta say, bunny, you looked so cute that one night when you were sitting on my cock. the way your rosy cheeks just got more pink every time you looked at me, desperate to stay warm… ooh, that’s what you call hot. good to know that i was able to keep you warm during that snowy night, and i got to get my dick wet too. so it was a win/win situation for the two of us, dear~ but all jokes aside, i had come up with the plan to treat my favorite sibling of sin to some… fun this season. i conspired with all of the other ghouls and ghoulettes to help me, and i’m sure they all mentioned in their letters that they want to meet up with you too. we want to make this holiday special, dear. come on down to the nave of the ministry… you won’t be disappointed. merry christmas, sweetheart~

forever yours,

swiss ghoul

—

folding all the letters neatly and piling them on your desk, you smirked to yourself, and got up from the bed to start walking over to the nave of the church. each step carried your eager body closer to a lustful, passionate and loving location.

whatever your lovers were planning… you knew it was going to be a good one.

eyeing up the tall, church doors, you pushed them open to be met with a glorious sight.

the moonlight streamed through the glass panes windows of the dimly lit nave. candles aligned everywhere with ribbons decorating every corner and crevice. but the best sight of all… were the infamous nameless ghouls themselves.

they were all dressed for the occasion, all dolled up to your liking. the ghoulettes were in matching lingerie, but in different colors. aurora in a rose gold, cumulus in white and cirrus in black. they all huddled together and perked up upon seeing you. you looked to the other side to see another group of ghouls. rain’s expression was neutral, but there was a promiscuous glint in his eyes as the red ribbon twirled between his fingers. sodo’s expression was as hungry as ever, eyeing like a piece of candy while holding onto a candle. phantom looked excited, but jittery, claws digging into his seat, and mountain looked as calm and collected as ever, albeit, not minding the little problem in his pants.

from the center, swiss emerged, and he looked down at you with a wicked, yet lustful grin. his tail flicked about to the side, and you looked up at him with curious eyes, chuckling, his long fingers traced around your jaw and gently clasped around it while craning your head up, making you look at him.

he smiled at you,

and in return you smiled.

“merry christmas, y/n.” he spoke suavely, his words still as honeyed as ever.

he then stepped behind you, gently massaging your shoulders and holding onto you. with a snap of his fingers, the ghouls and ghoulettes giggled and approached closer to you, lust on their minds.

oh

this would certainly be a christmas to remember~

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[13phantom13angel13]

Thief

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hello! It is I! Your Squealing Santa! Surprise! You really gave me some damn good prompts and pairings. I had such a hard time choosing! Anyways, this was my first time writing for JJK. I hope you enjoy it! It was fun to write! Happy holidays! @giggly-squiggily

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The christmas season had rolled around at Jujutsu High. The pleasing aroma of gingerbread, peppermint, and chocolate filled the air of the dorms’ kitchen. Anyone who entered the building would be smacked in the face by the sweet scent…the sound of bickering.

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto stood in the kitchen bickering with each other. Geto, wearing an apron with some flour and chocolate smudged on him; Gojo wearing a shit eating grin as he held up one of the fresh gingerbread men that was just pulled out of the oven.

“Dammit, Satoru! Would you quit eating the cookies!? You’re going to eat them all before we can even decorate them!” Geto snarled at him, swatting him away with the spatula he wielded.

“I will do no such thing!” Gojo argued back, dodge by him with ease as he took another bite of the cookie. “I can’t eat all of them in one sitting.” He smirked as Geto’s jaw clenched.

“That’s literally the third one you just ate. If you eat one more, there will be consequences.” He growled out in annoyance. Gojo chuckled deviously at the threat.

“I would like to see you try, my dear Suguru.”

Geto’s eye twitched as Gojo took another bite of the sweet delicacy he stole.

“Get your thieving ass out of the kitchen, you menace.”

The challenging grin that spread across Gojo’s face made Geto want to punch him. Then he spoke the famous last words.

“Make me.”

It was Geto’s turn to smirk as he set the spatula down on the counter, taking the apron off from around his neck as he approached the cocky pale haired man with cracking knuckles. Gojo’s grin fell as he recognized the mischievous twinkle in his boyfriend’s eyes. He gulped as he took a couple of steps back.

“Now, Suguru. Think about this.”

“Oh, I have thought about it,” Geto stated as he boxed Gojo in against the adjacent counter. “And I think this is a suiting punishment for your crime, cookie thief!”

Gojo squealed as Geto’s fingers descended upon his sides. Bubbly giggles came spilling past his lips as he squirmed in place.

“Suhuhuhuguruhuhuhu! Nohohoho fahahahahair!”

“It’s plenty fair! I told you to stop eating the damn cookies but you didn’t want to listen. Suffer the consequences!” He scolded as his fingers traveled across his stomach. Gojo giggled harder.

“Tihihihihickling is agahahahahainst the ruhuhules!”

“Pfft! According to whom, exactly? Not you, that’s for sure!” Geto’s fingers traveled up his ribs, his giggles turning into laughter.

“AH! NONONONOHOHOHO!”

Geto laughed with him.

“You sounded like Santa! That’s how you get into the holiday spirit. Not by stealing cookies. Now, are you ready to apologize?” Geto asked the near hysterical man in front of him. Gojo shook his head as wiggling fingers traveled higher on his rib cage. Geto clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Suit yourself.” With one hand, Geto attacked Gojo’s armpit. With the other, he grabbed his hip and squeezed in such a torturous fashion that Gojo actually screamed.

“FUHUHUHUHUCK!!! SUGURU NOHOHOHOHO!! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!”

Loud, boisterous laughter exploded from him as his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Geto followed him down with tickling fingers still attached to their targets.

“Give it up, Satoru. We both know you’re too ticklish to keep this up much longer.” Geto said with a fond chuckle. Listening to his boyfriend laugh was one of his favorite things in the world.

By this point, Gojo’s cheeks had turned a pretty decent shade of red. Not enough to be alarming, but enough to know he was reaching his limits. Tears of mirth glistened in the corners of his eyes as he weakly batted at Geto’s hands.

“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAHAHAY!! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!! YOU WIHIHIHIN!!” Gojo screeched in hysterics.

“Are you going to stop stealing cookies and leave me alone to bake in peace?”

“YEHEHEHEHES!! JUST STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! SUGURU PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Gojo begged as the first tear trickled down his cheek. That was his signal to stop.

Geto withdrew his hands and sat beside Gojo, rubbing his back gently as he caught his breath. Gojo peered up at him as he wiped his eyes.

“That was rude and uncalled for…” He panted softly. Geto gave him a flat stare.

“What’s rude and uncalled for is stealing my cookies. Now shoo. I have to finish up these cookies so they’re cooler enough to decorate this evening.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m going.” Gojo got to his feet, exchanging as gentle kiss with Geto as he walked out of the kitchen to leave his boyfriend in peace.

Lesson learned, Gojo. Don’t be a cookie thief.

[otterandterrier]

WHY JOIN THE HAN/LEIA HOLIDAY EXCHANGE & WHAT TO EXPECT

hello good fellows of han/leia leanings, as a recent mod and long-time participant of the Holiday Exchange™️, I thought I'd do a bit of propaganda to convince you to join us!!

look at them. just look at them. a whole love fest just for them. isn't that super neat??

you should join us if you:

love writing han/leia fic, duh!

are able to write a fic in a month!

enjoy writing for someone else!

enjoy getting fic as a gift!

what to expect:

you need to fill out a sign-up form on ao3 with your likes, dislikes and a few prompts 📝

prompts are mandatory!! doesn't mean your author will HAVE to stick to them, but its tremendously helpful to have a starting point rather than have someone say "I just like anything" (no you don't!)

the mods will look at all the submissions and pair people up! we're very good at it. ofc mods can't guarantee your author will be your literal soulmate who you match with in everything, but we guarantee that you will match on something enough for them to want to write for you! 💞

getting your assignment is so exciting!! this type of challenge is ideal for people who enjoy/are able to a) write for a prompt and b) figure people out. you get to see what your recipient likes and dislikes, which will be more or less aligned with what you said you liked and disliked! 😯

and THEN. you get to send them anon asks to complement that information and sort out your fic ideas!

and you get to make a friend, possibly?? sending your recipient at least one ask is also not optional, but I promise it's so much fun, you should send asks regularly, it makes people happy! 💌

writing time! not much we can do about that, but mods are always happy to chat about your ideas if you need a sounding board or a little cheerleading

YOU GET A GIFT, YOU GET A GIFT, EVERYBODY GETS A GIFT! do you get a high from ao3 comment emails?? from purchase deliveries?? THIS IS LIKE THAT. packige 💝

because the thing about this challenge is that after all your hard work for someone else, you get something too! through this having and giving and sharing and receiving, we too can share and love and have and receive 😌

"wait do you mean to tell me nobody ever drops out and leaves their recipient hanging?" 🤔 sometimes that happens yes... but that's what pinch hitters are for!! it might take you a little longer, but you will get your present. I guarantee that you will be satisfied, 'cause your satisfaction is our guarantee. we guarantee it.

gifts are anonymous for a little while!! so that's ANOTHER fun part, you get to enjoy all the fics and try to guess who might have written what! 👀

"do you promise I'll like my gift? 🤨" FRIEND IT'S A FREE GIFT TAILORED TO YOU!! at the very least you will not hate it! promise!

anyway that's pretty much it! sign-ups close on december 8th, so don't delay! eternal happiness is only a dollar a sign-up form away

(and now you don't have to put up with tv show quotes from me anymore)

[cookinguptales]

I traditionally open up fic requests for my birthday. It's something that I've been doing since I was in college, and I've always enjoyed it! I like giving out presents on my birthday, and honestly, getting fic feedback is kind of like a present for me anyway. So it's a win-win situation.

This year I've gone back and forth. I ended up getting really busy (and sick/overwhelmed) shortly after I opened fic requests for the holidays, so there are a couple of those that I never actually got to. One of them in particular got super long so god knows when I'll finish that, lmao.

I'm also still In The Process of finishing up those tarot readings (I swear I didn't forget, I just keep getting distracted lmao) so like. Yes, clearly I already have things that I promised to people that aren't done yet.

But... at the same time, I did finish and post one of those long-overdue fics today and it made me feel better than I have in a while re: my writing, so... I suppose if y'all are willing to be patient with me if it takes a while (or I do things out of order) then I'm happy to take fic requests for... let's say the next day or so?

Please feel free to ask for fic for any canon you know I'm familiar with, though I reserve the right to say no if it's a pairing/trope I don't like. Or if I just don't remember the canon. lmao. I don't really want to write anything with a sad ending rn, and I don't usually like long, detailed prompts. (I just do best when someone gives me a jumping-off point and I can fill in the blanks.) So maybe like a show/pairing, a trope or VERY brief scenario, and any particular squicks I should avoid? Like, it should fit into a sentence or two.

I can't promise the fics will be long or detailed, but who knows how fancy will take me? One last time ended up becoming a really long fic, which is bad for the requester because it still is not done.

(For comparison, just know that Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow Too started its life as a giftfic in an exchange with a 300-word minimum. 🙃)

I really do not want to make any promises here because... well, my track record recently has not been super solid. I've been getting tired really easily. That said, I miss writing as much as I was, so maybe writing some short, fun little fics will help get me back into the swing of things. Prime the pump, so to speak.

Uh so yeah. Send me a fic request and I'll do what I can!

[raleighcarrera]

holiday writing requests

wow feels weird to use the post title feature sdkjfdglfkgjfkjg

ANYWAY i’m opening up winter/holiday themed writing requests for choices & twc !! my goal is to do as many of these as i can before the end of the year but i’m going to try to space them out so please be patient and i’m sorry if i don’t get to yours or if it takes awhile

and thank you all for making my time here so far in 2020 so much fun and for being so nice to me since i made this blog in may ❤️ 

if you have a specific scenario or request in mind, just send me an ask, but otherwise a list of assorted prompts i’m accepting is under the cut !!

from here - winter/cold weather prompts:

1. first snowfall 2. hot chocolate 3. ice skating 4. blankets 5. fireplace 6. fuzzy socks 7. scarf 8. snowball 9. sweater 10. snuggling 11. snowed - in 12. mistletoe 13. candles 14. winter sunrise 15. eggnog

from here - winter/holiday writing prompts:

1. mistletoe kissing booth 2. makeout sesh in front of the fire, but someone is being a tad too respectful 3. snowball fight turns flirting, turns serious, then flirty again 4. snowed in and huddling for warmth 5. home for the holidays, but my parents won’t let us share a room so we sneak out to see each other

from here - winter/holiday sentence starters:

1. “it’s cold out here, can i borrow your jacket?” 2. “warm my hands up?” 3. “look! it’s snowing!” 4. “the car won’t start...” 5. “it’s supposed to snow tonight, you should just stay here...” 6. “i haven’t felt warmth in approximately twenty-three days.” 7. “that blanket looks big enough for two!” 8. “you’re cute when you’re cold.” 9. “it smells like i just walked into cinnamon hell.” 10. “can’t we stay in bed? it’s cold outside...” 11. “you’re not getting sick again, are you?” 12. “i’ll take care of you.” 13. “don’t slip!” 14. “i may or may not have gotten tangled up in the tinsel.” 15. “so... the tree is too big to fit through the door.” 16. “last minute gift shopping is an art, and you’re not ready for it.” 17. “all i want for christmas is you.” 18. “can i open just one? pleasseeee?” 19. “don’t be such a downer, mr scrooge.” 20. “i have michael bublé’s entire discography and an unopened bottle of wine.” 21. “i couldn’t find any gelt, but we do have raisins!” 22. “please don’t burn the house down.” 23. “normal people don’t own this many candles.” 24. “that’s the ugliest sweater i’ve ever seen.”

from here - winter/holiday prompts

1. “it’s almost midnight!” 2. “yeah, uh, alcohol doesn’t go in hot chocolate.” 3. “why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?” 4. “if you throw a snowball at my face so help me.” 5. “open your present!” 6. “wanna get shit faced instead?” 7. “why is there mistletoe everywhere?” 8. “i’m still sad you won’t be home for christmas.” 9. “aren’t you afraid of setting the house on fire with all the lights?” 10. “i hope you break your ass on that ice.” 11. “wait, no one got you anything?” 12. “so... we’re kind of snowed in.” 13. “it looks like the north pole threw up.” 14. “are you sure it’s illegal to kill carolers?” 15. “you didn’t think i’d let you spend christmas alone, did you?” 16. “i told you you were going to get sick if you stayed in the snow all day.” 17. “does that stocking have my name on it?” 18. “and now the power’s out.” 19. “you’ve never had a new year’s kiss?” 20. “you’re kind of cute when you look like rudolph.”-“the reindeer?”-“no, my dentist. yes, the reindeer.”

from here - december fanfic prompts

1. a snowball fight 2. overly bundled up for the weather 3, decorating the tree 4. ruining the holiday dinner 5. secret santa gift exchange 6. unwrapping presents 7. making cookies 8. new holiday traditions 9. work holiday party 10. eating candy canes 11. traveling for the holiday 12. a holiday proposal 13. drunk at new year’s party 14. a new year’s kiss

from here - christmas/winter starters

“sorry, it’s not me, it’s the eggnog.” “just so you know, i’m kind of stuck in the christmas lights.” “looks like you’re getting coal this year.” “i just took an online quiz and it said i was on the naughty list! if it was you i could see it, but not me!” “are you seriously crying over rudolph...?”   “i just called to tell you merry christmas.” “please stop singing christmas songs.” “if you ring those dumb jingle bells one more time, i will wring your neck.” “oh my god, is that  mistletoe...?” “what kind of christmas would it be if we didn’t play in the snow?”  

from here - holiday au prompts

1. we don’t like each other, but we’re at a mutual friend’s christmas party and we keep getting caught under the mistletoe together 2. we both work at the mall’s pictures with santa event. you shouldn’t be able to look that attractive in an elf’s costume and we should not be hooking up in santa’s cottage on our break 3. why can’t you turn your christmas lights off at a reasonable hour? they’re way too bright and some of us are trying to sleep. if you won’t turn them off, i’ll turn them off myself 4. my parents keep pestering me about a boy/girlfriend, so i lied and now i need you to be my fake boy/girlfriend for the holidays 5. if you sing one more christmas song, I’m breaking the radio and kicking you out of the car. i don’t care how cute you are, i can’t take one more rendition of santa baby or all i want for christmas is you 6. you didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so i invited you to come home with me as friends but my parents now think we’re dating

from here - more christmas aus

1. “i know we hate each other but it’s christmas eve and your flight was cancelled, please come inside.” 2. “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years.” 3. person a seducing person b into taking a few steps back/backing them against the wall (”oh look, how did that mistletoe get right there?”) 4. i knitted you a jumper/mittens/scarf 5. “we were playing in the snow and you suddenly tackled me to the ground and now... we’re just... staring... at each other...” 6. "our christmas party turned into a tropical theme because the radiator is broken and it’s hotter than hell in here - damn you look good without a shirt, i never noticed before asgdhfjgkhl” 7. “we’re co workers who hate each other but you had too much to drink at the staff christmas party and admitted your love for me i don’t know how to act around you now.” 8. TEACH ME HOW TO SKI (lol jk i know how you’re just so fucking cute) 9. PULLING YOU IN FOR A KISS WITH A SCARF 10. “i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”

from here - christmas/holiday starters

1. “woah, someone drank too much egg nog.” 2. “i can’t believe i’m all alone during the holidays.” 3. “i hate snow. and smiling children.” 4. “if i hear one more christmas song, someone is getting strangled with tinsel.” 5. “the limit was $20, people. why do I see an iPhone?” 6. “i know who got me this. there’s only one person who knows me this well. it’s you.” 7. “this is really corny... but you’re already a gift to me.” 8. “have i been naughty this year?” 9. “oh, i’d ride in your sleigh.” 10. “your eyes twinkle like tree lights.” 11. “great, now my flight is delayed…” 12. “how am i supposed to get home in this weather?” 13. "do these dreidel cake pops look pinterest-y enough?” 14. “it’s not a ‘made-up’ holiday. all holidays are made up.”

from here - new year’s starters

1. “will you kiss me at midnight?” 2. “here's hoping the new year is better than the last.” 3. “this is the perfect way to ring in the new year.” 4. “i don't feel well...” 5. “did you just kiss me?” 6. “the stars are prettier than the fireworks.” 7. “let's ring in the new year right.” 8. “are you drunk?” 9. “can we go home?” 10. “hold my hand.” 11. “i think i drank too much.” 12. “let's get a cab.” 13. “you look silly.”

from here - cold weather starters

1. “it’s hand holding season.” 2. “i got the biggest blanket for us to share.” 3. “your cheeks are so red; it’s so cute!”  4. “this scarf isn’t big enough for two people.” 5. “maybe if i kiss you, you’ll feel warmer.”  6. “hug me; i’m cold and love you.” 7. “are you cold? let’s cuddle, it’ll make you warmer.” 8. “what time is it? don’t answer, it’s christmas.” 9. “if it snows, wake me up.” 10. “christmas songs this early?” 11. “please stay warm; i don’t want you to get sick.” 12. “i refuse to let you go – i’m cold.” 13. “it’s icy outside – also, can you help me limp to the couch?” 14. “i don’t need mistletoe to kiss you.” 15. “i’m glad I get to spend this season with you.” 16. “are you shivering?” 17. “i ran you a bath since it’s freezing outside.” 18. “stay in bed with me, it’s warmer here.” 19. “i don’t understand how you love this kind of weather so much.” 20. “are you blushing or cold?” 21. “oh, darn, i seem to have forgotten my mittens – please warm my hands?” 22. “i don’t think cold weather is an excuse to drink ten times more coffee.” 23. “well, you can never have too much hot chocolate.” 24. “i’m gonna stay up and wait for it to snow.” 25. “being with you makes the season even better.” 26. “since it’s cold should i start calling you ‘snow angel’?” 27. “are you going to share this coat with me all night?”

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[cinnaminsvga]

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them? 

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie​ (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

[bangtanpromptsfics]

pyxis.

dialogue prompt #9: “Cheer up it's Christmas Eve, sweetheart”

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: christmas au, brother's best friend au, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 3,412 (oh no)

warnings: reader is a lil sad but nothing angsty tho

summary: christmas was always an eager wait. less for the tree decorations, family dinner and the fuss of toddlers. more for your childhood best friend who you kissed under a mistletoe years back.

a/n: ahhh!!! I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out to be. the inspiration was from a few christmas themed fics I read here and the movie ‘It's Christmas, Eve’. anyway this was my attempt though it's nowhere near christmas time. one of my personal goals is to celebrate a christmas like the west, the snow, the fuss and the commotion ;-;. Also I lost sense of time and space and this turned out to be 3k ;-;

masterlist

“Cheer up it's christmas eve, sweetheart”, your mother chimes as she pours brown batter into little cupcake moulds.

You simply smile at her, the festive mood not really getting to you because of exhaustion. Uni was tough, and enjoying this Christmas when you know you have tons of essays due in a few days was hammering inside your brain every now and then.

“Is that chocolate?”, you ask, leaning your tired body on the counter where she is at work.

“And orange”, she smiles, turning around to preheat the oven.

“Where's Jin”. Though you hated the routinely flicks against your forehead, the absence of your big brother felt weird.

“He went with Jimin to get the Christmas tree”.

The mention of Jimin brings a smile to your face. His soft features and captivating grin filling your head. If there was one of the few things you enjoyed coming back to your hometown for holidays, it's chocolate cupcakes your mom bakes and Jimin.

His family are friends with yours after all. You, Jin and Jimin attended the same school until college and other priorities in life drift you apart. Though the bond must have rusted a bit, you can't deny the fact that you still have that crush which started somewhere in middle school, on a chritmas eve like this when he kissed your cheeks shyly under the mistletoe. Your friends and family, and even Jimin himself must have seen it nothing more than platonic, but you still find yourself relieving the moment in your head however crazy it may sound.

Standing up straight, you decide to fix your bed hair and complete the skincare routine before the said duo drops.

“Mrs. Y/L/n...”, Jimin softly kicks the back door. He is carrying one end of a huge fir, and your brother on the other end, grunting from the freezing snow outside.

“Oh dear place it right there”, you mother is quick to her feet helping the boys and doing her usual commentary on how well the tree looked.

Jimin looks more handsome than ever, especially with his nose and cheeks dusted in scarlet from the cold. He looks really huggable in his fluffy sweaters and red beanie. Jin is busy commanding around so you choose to sit back, a very typical sibling energy and the size of decoration boxes and the tree itself not really appetizing to your will to find any strength.

“Hey Y/n!”, Jimin stares back at your eyes in a split moment which has your lashes fluttering suddenly. You probably look like you are carrying a disease and right now you become very hyper aware of that.

“You alright? You look tired”, he comments. You feel his eyes carefully studying the black under your eyes and worrying his mind because that's what he is like. He cares about everyone and everything, has a heart so soft it hurts to even think about it.

“Jet lag...”, you say, “I'll be fine”. You shoot a little thumbs up on his way to reassure.

“Why didn't Jin get the tree earlier? It's Christmas in a few hours”, you dodge the focus around you and walk near in an attempt to closely examine the tree for no reason other than feeling Jimin’s eyes a little too long on you.

Your brother gets visibly annoyed seeing you start a very unnecessary talk. So he is completely obliged to shoot back with, “Because you were in charge of Christmas decorations this year but your lazy ass flew down here only yesterday”.

“You know I was busy with Uni!”

“Whatever”, he shrugs, getting back to the box of tree decorations. You feel a little bad seeing yourself not being helpful during a festive season. It felt like you were procrastinating on your responsibilities as always.

“Um...is there any way I can help?”, you ask softly, earning a mischievous grin from Jin and your mom fills in the answer.

“We need more baubles. Also I missed out gifts for Aerum and June, so maybe you can get them”. Now this was already tiring and you were not lying earlier either, the jet lag was still choking you alive. You wonder if the huge pile of stars and glitters beside your foot aren't enough but then maybe it's true because this is the largest fir you ever saw for Christmas in your house. And speaking of the five year old notorious duo, your cousins-- Aerum and June, you have no other option than to step out into the butt numbing cold and get something for the sake of not getting your brains eaten.

While you stand there doing these calculations, Jimin puts a two and two and immediately suggests to tag along with you.

“That'd be great! Thanks sweetie”, your mom chimes, her fine lines of face gathering around her eyes while she does so and you catch her throwing a wink to your side and you pretend you never saw that.

“Thank you Jimin”, you smile in all honesty while he reciprocates the same.

“No problem. I'll get my car. Will you be ready in an hour? I think you just woke up”

“Uh...yeah”, you fake a laugh, “Yes I'll be ready in an hour”

Jimin still lives here in your hometown, attends a community college nearby and his house is just a few steps away from your own. You remember how you had the same analogy in your mind as well. You like living here. You like Jimin’s company. The lake Park and the annual ice skating competition in December and the bookstores and coffee shops at the outskirts of the town. And you can't seem to clearly remember when and where that feeling started to become foreign. Maybe it was a teenage quirk to explore the world that you are now a three hour flight away from all of this. It wasn't a deep regret, but seeing Jimin, it almost felt like it. It felt like you betrayed him. Because he seemed to be keeping his word to this day.

This year, it's a few degrees lower than what it usually is and you find yourself chattering your teeth together as you walk to Jimin’s house.

His footsteps rush to get the door as soon as you ring the doorbell and he greets with the same wide grin as if he hasn't just saw you an hour ago.

“Let's go?”, he asks immediately, getting house keys from his coat pocket and locking the front door before stepping out making you confused.

“There's no one home? Where are your parents?”

“Oh well didn't Mrs. Y/L/n tell you?”, he studies your features and gets his response so he continues “They went to New York this year for Christmas. It's some elder people thing I think...so I'll be spending Christmas this year with your family”

“Really!?”, you chime, and then immediately notice a very childish jump you did with tiny fists and all, feeling a little embarrassed at yourself, “Ah... uh I mean that's great”.

“Yeah”, he giggles, sounding like a twelve year old who is still waiting for his growth spurt, “Get in the car it's freezing in here”.

Since it's been six odd months you've spoken to Jimin, you figured it would would be strange and awkward to be with him, but his demeanor states otherwise. He could effortlessly begin conversations and build momentum with you and by the time you are at a thrift store, he is aware of the little gist of student life and the dramatically exaggerated history research paper still due.

“What are you getting for the twins?”, he asks, seeing you checking out the kids toys section with absolutely no idea and that's exactly what you reply to him.

“How about this puzzle?”, he brings a big jigsaw to your glance and you figure it's a great thing to have their little brains engaged and give yourself time to breathe.

“It's perfect!”, you add, immediately placing it your cart with a few decors you picked up from earlier aisles.

Jimin places an extra pack of Christmas candies in the cart, and you send him a questionable look knowing it's his way of bribing the kids coming this evening. He puts too much effort into people's happiness, something you wish you were capable of as well.

The shopping went smooth. It was therapeutic to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows afterwards like he insisted followed by that very cliche movie scene where one of them develops a creme moustache and the other notices and dabs it off.

You want this moment to linger a little longer, but your whole family arrives in less than two hours and the decorations were due. If Jin doesn't have you in the next thirty minutes he might as well eat all the cupcakes your mom is baking as revenge.

“I had a great time”, Jimin states as he stops the car in front of your house, stealing the words from your mouth and warmth hugs your cheeks immediately.

“Me too. It's been long since we spent time with each other”

You hear a lone sigh with white fogs coming out of his plump lips while he does so, as if he were suddenly sad when you mentioned that.

“Are you okay?”

His grips tightens around the steering, “I've missed you”, he says, eyes meeting slowly. And as if he was suddenly pulled back to earth he conjures another sentence to not sound so vulnerable.

“I uh... It's just--”

“I've missed you too”

Even with the gear box painstakingly blocking the way, you throw your upper half towards his body anyways and you find him hugging you back. His hugs still feel the same from years back; safe and warm and filled with love.

If it wasn't for the constant reminder that your brother is probably plotting a murder against you, you would've stayed much longer in his embrace. Maybe the hug was a big straightforward for a bond still gradually blooming, but it didn't feel weird at all and when you pull back he is smiling down at you.

“I thought you two lovebirds flew off”, a very annoyed Jin states from above you. He is balancing himself on a chair to attach the mistletoe to the ceiling.

“Sorry hyung”, Jimin says. And somehow now you are getting super aware of the way your family is low key shipping you both. Not that it's an irritating thing of course though you seem to act like it. But you have no idea what's going on with Jimin, what if he said he missed you as your childhood friend? It's a lot difficult to segregate his priority of giving affection. He seems to be giving justice in terms of care for every living being he knows.

“The circus is on its way so I hope you both hurry with putting up everything together”, the voice above states, now lowering himself to ground after putting up the twig.

Three of you giggle at the mention of your family as a circus. Well in a way it definitely was. You have a bunch if uncles who crack awful jokes, a trait Jin himself as picked up from a tender age of ten. Then their wives and kids who share certainly the same braincells in comprehending things. You bet they'll ask you again about your major and your dating history once they walk in through that door amidst clearly stating everytime that you are a history major and yes still very single.

In the hallway there is a half decorated tree. A thread of fairly lights wrapped around the green and very few baubles hanging here and there.

“I'll put up the star and join you”, Jimin says, digging out a golden star from the carton. Though now he doesn't know why it was a good idea for him to announce that when both of you were almost the same height. He is just a few centimeters taller than you and the top of the fir is still very much way above your heads.

So with a chuckle you both figure Jin has to do it.

“This is your final year right?”, Jimin asks stepping closer to you. He seemed nervous about something. Or was it anxious?

“Yeah...you?”

“Yeah...”, his sweet tone was drawn almost like a whisper and you sense you should ask him further about what's wrong. But before you had to deal with a starter he continues,

“Are you planning to work in Chicago as well?”

“Sweetheart help me clean up the kitchen please”, your hear your mom's voice overpowering through the house. Which is good. Because you don't know what you are supposed to answer. It was as if he was almost hopeful that you'll choose your hometown all over again. But you aren't sure. So you take the opportunity to step away from the situation excusing yourself.

And while you are clearing the blobs of batter stuck on the counter, your mind is a haywire. What are you going to do? Though you know your whole family wants you to stay, it's still a foggy place to be in. Four years apart in another city as a college student has not provided much, except caffeine addiction and sleepless nights. Things were not even as fun as everyone told you.

A few steps away Jimin silently prays that you stay, because he had truly missed you. Even though you have outgrown from the eighteen year old shell as he had known, he finds himself actively choosing to be with you. Even when other things in life occupies his mind, there's an element of it which goes back to you.

“They are here!”. You groan silently, while your parents are throwing their hands in air, giggles and chatter fills in as your uncles and aunts and the taunting toddlers welcome themselves in.

“Y/n! You have grown so much!”, the older aunt comments, and you supply a manufactured smile to tag along. Other comments follow by soon, about how tired you are, gasps about not having a partner and future plans, all of which are not completely answerable at the moment but you manage to get through them all and finally excusing yourself back to the garage convincing there are more decor supplies in there.

Families are nice. They make festivals brighter and lives less lonely. But yours was just hard sometimes. Not that you completely loathed the people now fueling themselves off the cup cakes your mom bakes, you were just merely lost, still yet to come up with an answer to what your stance is after graduation.

“Hey...”. Jimin has joined you now which you notice feeling a warmth against your shoulder when he sits, with an extra scraf knowing the garage is still comparatively chilly than the house, “you okay?”.

“Yeah...I was just...thinking”

“Is this about earlier? I'm sorry if I made you anxious”, he quickly adds.

“No!...I mean yeah but, it's high time I find a ground with this. What are your plans?”

“I was thinking about teaching at Jefferson High”, he shifts rather uncomfortably. He is talking of the school in your town, your school, where you have lots of memories with Jimin, “You know...like we said during Junior year in high school?”

“I'm sorry Jimin”, you feel the guilt inside you growing, “I never kept my promises”.

“Hey...that's okay! Everyone changes. I just want you to be happy. I...I hope you are happy Y/n”, he reassures, taking your hand from your side and squeezing it between his soft palms.

“I don't know about that either...”

As much as you hated showcasing vulnerability to another person, you know Jimin is an exception. You had cried to him about everything during school days and he had never invalidated a single thing, even when you were visibly dramatic over a downpour during a family picnic when you were five.

Jimin is frozen on his seat as if he can't find the words. He was never good with words so instead he hugs you, a little longer than the last time till he is sure you have calmed down. Grateful for not ending up crying, you smile up at him and remind yourselves to get back inside to avoid suspicion, especially from the kids who take humiliating people as an important milestone to achieve.

When you enter back inside and get immediately surrounded by a million questions and chores thrown at you, you find your answer. Maybe your heart belongs back to everything your younger self had blabbered about. Not to mention, this fairly good reunion with your crush feels nice, though, he might still see it as platonic. Maybe he makes things less daunting.

By the way Jimin was owning everyone's heart in the house, it felt like he was family. Well in a way he is. But to put more clarity, he bought things together and his actions bought so much peace and love within everyone. Even the notorious twins listen carefully to him and help the uncles and aunts in the kitchen.

He is again by your side, two cupcakes rests on his palms and you take it with a silent ‘thanks’.

Seeing no signs of him beginning a talk now, you think of coming up with something. Maybe a memoir from today? Or about how absolutely handsome he looks right now? Wait.

“They are under the kissing twig!”, Aerum screams like the house caught in fire, her sibling joining by the side to provoke the habit even more.

“It's called a mistletoe Aerum”, your aunt corrects before pasting a smug across her lips.

Nothing changed. They are the same people. Hyping you and Jimin to kiss just like when you were thirteen. If the factor of time is removed, this is the exact night. Both of you cemented to the flooring as if you forgot to exist.

Both of your necks snap together to the mistletoe Jin had attached to the ceiling earlier. And when you lower your gaze back, face gawks at each other eye to eye. It's the same. He has that blush, the shyness from years ago. It's going to be platonic. Yet again. And this moment will only ever be romantic and flowery in your head.

June was the first to squeak, and Aerum shuts her eyes the moment Jimin is leaning his mouth towards your lips. It was difficult to relax under the stares of many, but when he ghosts his mouth over your again and leans in for a second kiss, you are fixated on him. Hands holding each other, the plump of his lips so soft it felt like you were biting into a fluff of cloud.

Maybe he'll have an explanation to your family for this. Not like anyone in the audience was disappointed. Your mother was almost in tears? And Jin looked hardly surprised with any of this. As if it was all swell according to his plans.

“You both are so cute”, one of the aunts awes and your mother is quick by her side, completely agreeing to it.

“Jimin...”, you return your gaze to the equally flustered man who just kissed you and he sounded almost breathless,

“I'm sorry if this was wrong it ju--”

“I like you”, you immediately snap in and his face is a void for an instant. Fully processing the words, his eyes disappear when he grins, “I like you too...a lot”.

“Are you two dating?”, the twins haven't dropped the case yet, running to your feet to help their curious brains.

“Yes...”, Jimin responds, looking up at you for a reassurance, which you quickly supply with a nod, “Yes we are dating”.

When the kids are satisfied they go away snickering to themselves.

“I decided to stay”, you say.

“Really!?”, his disbelief was comical, yet wholesome considering how much he wished for this, “I'm...I'm so happy!”.

Giggling at him, this time you lean forward and peck the corner of his lips.

“You lovebirds better get a room”, Jin announces and thankfully not loud enough to catch everyone else's attention.

Usually Jin expects a punch to his arms from his sister, but he sees how grateful you are for his mistletoe decor. He leaves the couple, satisfied that there won't be any more ranting about how much Jimin likes you.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[softxsuki]

☾*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

---400 FOLLOWER EVENT (CLOSED)

Hello everyone and welcome to my first ever event, celebrating our milestone of 400 followers! SERIOUSLY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that over 400 of you decided to click that follow button. So insane 🥺❤️💜

Please read my general rules before requesting, but here are a few basic rules before you request

»REQUESTING RULES

Anyone can participate! Whether you follow me or not

Feel free to request as many times as you’d like

SFW only

All requests will be written as drabbles (under 1000 words)

Only one character per request

1-3 prompts per request

Repeated prompts are fine (for instance if someone already choose 1 & 5, someone else can choose 1 & 6 or 10 & 5) just don’t request the same pairing (unless I can come up with another idea for it lol)

No cheating (no character x reader cheating, but I don’t mind if reader had been cheated on by an outside party and maybe character consoles them, if that makes sense)

Sensitive material is allowed so long as it’s for comfort (TW: depression/suicide/eating disorders, etc; stuff like that is fine)

Character x reader only, I don’t write for character x character

Fem!Reader or Gn!Reader only

I don’t mind writing angst, but I’d prefer if all my writing had a happy ending 😭

»HOW TO REQUEST

Go to my ask box either as anon or not

Select your character (check here for the list of characters I write for)

State whether reader is Fem!Reader or Gn!Reader (if not stated I’ll just make them gender neutral)

Choose 1-3 prompts that you’d like me to write, from the list of prompts provided

Select a genre/s (fluff, angst, comfort, angst to fluff, etc) this is vv important as some of the prompts could be either fluffy or angsty NDJDKD

State whether you’d like the request to be platonic or romantic between reader and character

Give any specific details of what direction you’d like me to go with the prompts (if you want or if you already had an idea in mind, this will ensure I write exactly what you want!)

I think that’s about it, but here’s an example of a request in case you’d like to see one lol. (This is completely random, but if someone likes this idea, then feel free to request it for any character)

Example: “Hello, could I make a request for you 400 follower ever? I’d like a drabble for Gojo with Gn!Reader using prompts 48 & 45? Fluff & romantic, where Gojo realizes his feelings for reader for the first time while they’re at his house for the holidays”

At the bottom of the page, under the prompts, I’ll have the MASTERLIST of requests as they get requested. Once they’re complete, you’ll be able to click each one and it’ll take you to the completed request.

I don’t really know how long I should leave this open for. Maybe a few weeks? Idk, but I’ll start with a week. If by then I still have loads of requests rolling in then I’ll keep it open, but if the requests had stopped then I’ll close it :)

My regular request will still be open and I’ll be writing them still in between the requests for this event.

ANYWAY I’VE TALKED FLR TOO LONG. THANK YOU IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR. Feel free to message me or send an ask if you have any questions or need any clarification!

ON TO THE LIST OF PROMPTS/DIALOGUE (that were found and tweaked by me, or came straight from my noggin)

(Expand for list of prompts)

LIST OF PROMPTS

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Please don’t ever say that again”

“When was the last time we really talked?”

“Nope, I’m not cold at all”

“Do you trust me?”

“What were you thinking?”

“I thought I lost you forever”

“You’re an idiot, but you’re my idiot”

“Please stay”

“I can’t stop thinking about you”

“Look at me, I’m not going anywhere”

“Come home, something isn’t right”

“Make sure you call me!”

“Do you think you’ll ever get bored of this? Of me?”

“Why do you keep this here?” you/[character] says, point at the/a…

“This is actually really nice”

“Is it that obvious”

“Shout if you need me”

“Well that made you smile”

“You’re more than enough”

“Stop staring at me”

“Did you hear that?”

“Don’t ever change”

“Don’t move”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I wasn’t really planning on it, no”

“What do I do?”

“You really are beautiful”

“Be careful out there”

“You make me feel safe”

“I’m worried about you”

“No one deserves to be alone”

“I think I might be falling in love with you”

“It’s all right, you can cry”

“You’re so warm”

“Nope, not happening”

“All right, that’s enough for today”

“If anything were to happen to you…”

“It’s freezing in here”

“I wish I had a camera right now”

“You have a nice smile”

“How do we always end up in this situation?”

“And if I don’t?”

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Can you just keep talking for a minute?”

“You smell really nice”

“Can I test something real quick?”

“Are you safe?”

“Wait, not yet”

“I’ll walk you home”

“Stop lying to me, just tell me the truth”

“How am I supposed to leave if you keep looking at me like that?”

“What happened?”

“Just five more minutes, please”

“Ummm, what are you doing?”

“I know it’s late, but can we…”

“I’ll take the couch/floor”

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger”

“I could never get tired of you, ever”

“Had another nightmare?”

“Do you love me?”

“You’re still holding my hand”

“No it’s okay, I like it”

“Jealousy looks good on you”

“I could have done more”

“It was an accident”

“I don’t care about that! I care about YOU!”

“Can you come in for a second, please?”

“Nope, I’m not letting you go”

MASTERLIST

»MHA—Kaminari: 10 & 41

»HQ—Kuroo: 11, 14, & 70

»HQ—Daichi: 36

»HQ—Oikawa: 5, 24, & 59

»MHA—Kaminari: 33 & 45

»HQ—Kuroo: 34, 38, & 58

»HQ—Kuroo: 2, 23, & 25

»HQ—Oikawa: 52, 62, 68

»MHA—Shigaraki: 34 (I don’t write for him, but since this is an event, I’ll give it a shot for you anon!)

»MYSME—Saeyoung(707): 8, 40, & 70

»MYSME—Saeyoung (707): 9, 14, & 21

»BTS—Yoongi: 30, 32, & 60

»MHA—Bakugou: 7, 8, & 38

»MHA—Dad!Aizawa: 23, 61, & 70

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Posted: 11/20/2021

Updated: 12/31/2021

[ihearthes]

Quarantine Christmas Part 1

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff/Smut (Smut in Part 2) Word Count: 2826 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

December 23, 2020

My head spins as I haul my suitcase from the trunk, using two hands due to the heft of the dirty clothes inside. Setting it on the ground, I yank on the handle before grappling with the two shopping bags filled with presents, reaching back for the decorated Christmas tin that is filled with homemade cookies, fudge, and other delicacies baked by my colleagues at Apple Music. 

Wrestling with my hands full, I close the trunk with an elbow, shivering in the chilly LA air. At the front door, I want to cry. Dammit. I could clearly remember that when Glenne had given me the code for the front door and the alarm, I placed them in my phone under her contact information. 

“FUCK!” The primal scream is released from my lungs, likely scaring the neighbors if any of them are outside enjoying Christmas lights or having family celebrations on this Christmas Eve Eve. Balancing the tin of cookies on top of the suitcase, I set down the shopping bags to reach for my phone. My purse slips off my shoulder, knocking the container of sweets, and in the scramble to rescue them, I nearly fall head over heels into the bushes. 

It isn’t until I punch in the numbers and drag my personal effects inside that it occurs to me that the alarm isn’t armed. Had Glenne and Jeffrey forgotten to punch in the code before they left for Palm Springs? Deciding I don’t care, I leave everything by the door as I drag my suitcase to the main floor laundry room, dumping everything in without regard to color or type of clothing. Since we’ve been working remotely the majority of the time for the last fucking nine months, “dressing up” encompasses blue jeans and the occasional blouse, but most of my clothing is sweatpants and t-shirts. Deciding washing the blue jeans and blouses with the sweatpants and t-shirts is the worst idea ever, I fish those out before pouring laundry detergent over the remaining garments and starting the washer. 

Glancing down at the clothing currently on my body, it seems completely reasonable to drop them into the washer too. Stripping the t-shirt from my body, I toss it into the swirling water before adding my bra, socks, and leggings to the murky mix. Wearing only panties in the cool house makes my nipples bead. 

Ha! I’m sure my nips are happy to get any action after almost a year with no dating of any sort because of the fucking pandemic. Which reminds me that I’ve forgotten my vibrator at home. Shit. Of all the things I don’t mind borrowing from Glenne, I do have a line I won’t cross. 

Placing the tin of Christmas yummies on the kitchen counter, I grasp the handles of the two bags of gifts. It might be silly to put them under the tree since I’m the only one in the house, but it will make me feel better. More like I’m at home with my family in Indiana. Less like I’m stuck in quarantine in an empty house for my favorite holiday. Sniffling, I swipe at my nose with the back of my hand as I pad down the two steps into the living room to the tree. 

Kneeling at the fake tree, I reach for the switch to turn on the lights. As the colors begin blinking, I carefully withdraw each present, reading the tag before gently placing the gift under the tree. Even my brother had sent a present through the mail which must mean he misses me his year. Right now, we should be challenging each other to the most ridiculous games to see who is the best. Inevitably, he would win some while I beat him at others until eventually we declare a tie. My mother would chastise us both with a grin on her face, implicitly encouraging us to continue our “reindeer games” as my father called them. 

From behind me, I hear a shuffling sound. Hadn’t they taken Myles with them? No matter. I could use the company a dog would provide. 

“Santa, you’ve changed!” a soft voice exclaims, and I jump, twisting around to find another human wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“It’s you!” Both voices exclaim simultaneously. “What the fuck are you doing here?” We both pause, “Stop saying what I’m saying!” 

Out of breath, I stare at him. The Harry Styles. Fuck. 

His eyes roam over my body, and it finally dawns on me that I’m wearing nothing but my Victoria’s Secret lace panties. Shit. 

Pacing measuredly to the couch without openly cringing, I grasp a wool throw and wrap it around my chest regally like I’ve just exited the pool at some exotic locale near the equator. My shoulders straighten, and I face him openly. 

“Are you joining Glenne and Jeffrey in Palm Springs?” My back is a board, and my tone is barely restrained. 

“Nope.” His nonchalance combined with his truncated answer pisses me off, per usual.

“So you’re flying home, waiting here for your flight tonight?” The hopeful tone is obvious to me and probably to him as well.

“No.” Those green eyes of his rake over my nearly-naked body, and I shiver. From the cold of course. Jesus. Get your heads out of the gutter!

“Watering the plants prior to returning to the Soho?”

“Uh uh.”

Delayed dread begins to fill my stomach. “You mean --” I clear my throat -- “you’re staying here?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.” Running my hand through my hair, I ponder the impact and my next steps. 

“You?” He asks politely, even though I know he doesn’t feel solicitude at this moment.

“Glenne told me I could stay here for a few days. I made arrangements for my place to be fumigated while I was in Indiana for Christmas.”

His raised eyebrow mocks me. 

“I’m not going, though. Okay?” 

“Why not?”

“Seriously? Where the fuck have you been, Styles? In case you didn’t know, there’s a global fucking pandemic, and all of Los Angeles is locked down. So no -- I am not getting on a plane with a bunch of potentially infected and contagious --” Emotion overwhelms me, and I have to stop and catch my breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I turn away from him so he can’t see the tears that form in my eyes. 

“Whatever, Smith.”

“My name --” I draw myself up and gather my anger around me like a cloak -- “is not Smith.”

“Yeah, right. Which bedroom are you planning to sleep in?”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we both stay here?” Appalled, I stare at him with my mouth open. “I’ll get a hotel room.” When I realize my wardrobe is in the washing machine, I softly say, “As soon as my clothes are dry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Smith. We’ll share the space. It’s only a couple of days.”

“Excuse me!?” Anger wells up. “Only the most important days in the entire year!” Superiority makes me stand up fully to him. “Besides, I’ve been quarantining for months. No way do I want to share germs with you!”

“Oh please! As if you’ve got a monopoly on quarantining! I’m perfectly safe. We get tested every morning before we film. When was the last time you were tested?” 

“Two days ago!” She’s at her boiling point. “Look, if we're both staying here together, then we’re just going to have to avoid each other. It’s a big house. We can do that.”

“Maybe once you put some clothes on,” Harry comments, smirking in that way he has where the left side of his mouth tilts up. 

Mortified, I glance down at myself. Briefly I consider scurrying for Glenne’s closet, but I pause. Why should I rush away? Because he’s male? Because he was here first? Because he’s sexy as fuck and my panties can’t take anymore? 

“Fine,” I respond as I brush past him like the Queen of England. “I’ll find something to wear, and then we can hash out the details.”

“Great plan. I’m ordering something for dinner.”

My stomach growls, and I suddenly feel an irrational hatred for that part of my body. How I long to state that I’ve already eaten or that I plan to cook something! But alas, I’ve brought no food with me, and I’ve no clue what’s in the kitchen. If Glenne and Jeffrey even left anything. 

“Does that mean you’d like some too?” He gloats, and as much as I would like to smack the grin off his face, I’ve not eaten since a quick bite for breakfast hours before. 

Knowing I’m going to have to grovel, I face him. “I’m capable of ordering for myself.”

“Yes, but that’s not necessarily good for the environment, is it? Sending two drivers to the same address from different restaurants?” Pausing, he appears to swallow whatever snarky comment was forthcoming. “Can we agree on this one small thing? I’m thinking poke.”

Shit. Fuck. Goddammit. That’s exactly what I would have ordered. Fuck. 

Casually, I shrug. “Yeah, whatever. I can choke down some poke.” As I saunter away, tucking the ends of the makeshift shroud under my armpits, I call back to him, “Spicy please.”

Quickly I make my way to Glenne’s closet, surveying the items there. Ripping down a pair of joggers and a Full Stop Management hoodie, I drop the covering I’ve been wearing and rapidly draw the clothes over my naked body. Nothing I can do about not having a bra, but the hoodie is roomy so I worry less. 

In the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair, combing out the curls as best I can in this environment. In no way do I want it to appear that I’m trying to look amazing for Harry. Biting my lip, I admit to myself that the opposite is true. I absolutely want him to fall at my feet. 

Which isn’t going to happen, I remind myself. Give up the ghost of a fantasy. 

Making eye contact in the mirror, I provide a pep talk for myself. “Listen,” I remind my reflection, “this is just one more fucked up situation in 2020. You’ve gotten through worse. It’s truly a giant house, so there’s no reason -- wait. Why is he staying here anyway?” For whatever reason, I had allowed him to dodge that incredibly simple question. 

Tucking my hands into the hoodie’s front pocket, I amble to the kitchen where Harry is just disconnecting his phone. 

“Food will be here in 45 minutes,” he promises. 

“Why are you staying here again? I missed your answer earlier,” I prompt. 

I’m confident I see a flash of embarrassment crossing his face as he lowers his head. “Wine?” He asks, gesturing towards the extensive rack of reds and then the chiller of whites. 

Unsure as to whether I should allow the diversion or press, I examine him. His eyes look tired and sad. His clothes, while comfortable, aren’t upbeat. Nor is his current demeanor. Is he okay? 

Planting his hands in his hoodie in an unconscious mimic of my pose, he glances at me before his eyes stray to the side, examining the marble countertop. That look tells me more than I need to know, and my empath side emerges as I toss him a life preserver. 

“With poke? I think perhaps a Reisling.” 

He nods, bending to look through the wines in the cooler before he extracts one, holding it up for me to inspect the label. My eyes start to widen at the vineyard, assuming the extravagant cost, but I calm my features. “Perf!” I declare. 

Grasping the wine opener from a nearby drawer, Harry removes the cork as I snatch two wine glasses from the cabinet and place them near him. Carefully comparing the amount in each glass, he pours enough before recorking the bottle. Taking my glass, I move into the living room where I can view the tree. It’s Christmas Eve Eve after all, and I refuse to be deterred from watching the lights twinkle and celebrating the season. 

Harry apparently has a similar idea as he fiddles with the sound system before a crackle of ‘Jingle Bell Drunk’ by RaeLynn starts playing which causes me to giggle. 

I settle on one side of the sofa, and Harry plants himself on the other side. Separately, we each take a sip of the riesling. My tongue does a happy dance at the flavor on my tongue. “This sweetness will cut the spicy quite well. Excellent choice.”

“You made the selection,” Harry reminds me, and I cringe. 

“Oh. Yeah.”

Silence descends as the song proclaims “I’ve been naughty. I’ve been nice.” 

“If there was ever a year for this song, this is it.” I announce into the quiet. 

“Yeah. It’s been quite the year.”

Sharply, I glance at him. Perhaps I had missed something? “Excuse me? You’ve had one hell of a year, Styles. Grammy nominations aside, there were how many music videos released during this global disaster? Plus a movie!”

“Agreed.” He’s quiet, his jaw clenched, and suddenly his words burst forth as though a gate at a dam has been opened. “But no tour. And almost no family time.”

Wait. Was this superstar feeling some of my emotions? He’d had a stellar year in anyone’s estimation. Maybe I could be more sympathetic. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry about tour. I had tickets to Vegas and one of the LA shows.”

His head swivels to me more swiftly than an owl focusing on prey. “You had tickets?”

“HAVE.” I swallow. “Thanks for not canceling by the way. I cannot imagine the bloodbath for getting tickets in the future. You’ve become the ‘it celebrity’.”

A blush is followed by a sheepish smile. “You can always get tickets, Smith. Just ask.”

“I don’t do that.” My voice is filled with the prickles that I feel at his words. 

“Do what?” 

“Use my privilege to get tickets to shows.”

“Oh. I…” His words trailed off. 

Suddenly, I feel less uncomfortable around him. Reaching out, I shove at his shoulder. “You’re a giant star, and you have a ton of fans who want to see you. Me? I’m just happy to be a member of the audience.”

“Really?” Incredulous is what I sense in that one word. “Why?”

“Seriously?” I’m appalled. “Do you not know what an amazing entertainer you are, Styles? Fuck. If I hadn’t been able to see your Fine Line show at the Forum last December, I probably would have cried. You know exactly what your audience wants, and you deliver it. Consistently.”

“But --”

“Hush. Don’t you dare negate your talent!” Taking another sip of wine, I reveal unabashedly, “Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I really enjoy your shows.”

“Smith?” He inquires, and my hand stalls with my wine glass halfway to my mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like my shows?”

Stalling, I run a finger through my hair and empty my wine glass before holding it out to him. “More please?”

He rises, but I can read his reluctance. Within moments, Harry is back at my side, handing me a second glass of the riesling. I can’t help but notice that he’s topped his own off too. 

“Answer the question, Smith.”

“My name isn’t Smith. In fact, there’s not a single part of my name that’s related to Smith. Why do you call me that?”

“Tell me why you like my shows, and I’ll reveal the meaning behind the nickname.”

My head feels fuzzy from the wine and the headiness of being near Harry, and I watch the lights flashing on the tree for a few minutes while Meghan Patrick belts out her version of ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ over the sound system. 

“You make your fans feel like they matter.”

“How?” His question comes rapidly, and I have to gather my thoughts. 

“You...talk to them. Listen to them. Watch them. Appreciate them. It’s rare, Harry. I mean, I’m in this business too, you know. Not every artist does what you do.”

“False.”

“I’m fucking serious, you asshole.” I gulp down more of the wine. “You make your audience feel like they’re your closest friends. I wish more artists did that. Specifically the ones I represent.”

“Oh.” His single utterance is enough, and we sit in pure tranquility for several minutes as the lights blink and Ava Max sings “Christmas Without You”. 

“Wanna watch the quintessential holiday movie?” I inquire, looking at him. 

“Which is?”

“Die Hard, of course,” is my response. “What were you thinking?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Nope. It’s pretty good. In the top five for sure.”

“Wait. What are your top five?”

“Oh, that’s easy. ‘Die Hard’, ‘Home Alone’, ‘A Christmas Story’, ‘The Santa Clause’, and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly?” I giggle at the joke since ‘Die Hard’ is full of death. 

“Fine. But we watch ‘Wonderful Life’ afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Part 2

[a-simple-imagine]

“This is awkward. Not ‘You’re awkward’, but just ‘cause we’re… I’m awkward. You’re gorgeous." with Hermione Granger x reader please? I am so excited for December :)

Day 5  - Frozen dialogue prompt

A/N - Thank you for sending something in!! and i’m happy that you’re excited, I hope I haven’t disappointed you so far.

Christmas wasn't exactly your favourite time of year but you didn't hate it either. Just some people took it a little too which could feel overwhelming at times The great halls of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry were filled with laughter and holiday cheer since December had struck. The classrooms and great hall all decked out to celebrate the season; you were especially fond of the massive tree in the great hall. Many had already left but few remained still collecting their things to catch the train back home so they could spend Christmas with their families. You, however, would be spending your Christmas at school alongside the left-behind students and the professors. Why anyone would choose to stay seemed crazy but it wasn't like you had much of a choice. You didn't mind though, it wasn't like you were dying to go home anyway. Armed with a wool hat that was pulled down over your ears, a scarf looped just a few time around your neck and a pair of gloves all in your house colours, you charge through the almost empty hallway. If the view from the top floor was t be believed then it was snowing and you wanted to take a trip to Hogsmeade before it got too windy. Not to mention, you rather enjoyed playing in the snow.

"Make way," You call out, slipping directly between two Ravenclaws who stumble to the side. You did warn them. Rounding the corner, you smash into something solid and crumble towards the ground. "Oi! watch it."

"You ran into me," That much was true but she was also rounding the sharp corner. A low groan leaves your lips. "Are you okay?"

I little on the sore side but other than that you were completely fine. Brushing yourself off, you glance up to see Hermione Granger holding her hand out to you. Hermione was in your year but you'd never really crossed paths, the only reason you even knew who she was is that she was friends with Harry Potter and everyone knew him. You couldn't help but admire her delicate features and wild brunette hair, she was a very pretty girl, to say the least. Wait, why were you surrounded by books? "Uh... yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for bumping into you" Taking her hand, she pulls you to your feet a little too suddenly and you stumble forward into her. Heat immediately rises to your cheeks and you quickly step back, almost stepping on one of the books.

"I'm assuming these are your books?" You ask as you carefully step over the item instead.

"I was coming back from the Library," She expresses softly.

"My bad, I wasn't looking where I was going." You apologise again. "Here let me help-"

"No, it's alright," Reaching down at the same time, your heads collide. It's quiet but you hear her mumble a little 'ow'. You were not making a very good first impression.

"I am so sorry,"

"It was my fault," She begins picking up her books and you watch her for a second before going to collect the one closest. As you reach for it, your hand brushes hers and she's keen to pull away. Picking it up, you drop it on top of her pile. She looks a little flushed but smiles graciously. "Thank you."

“I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N” You return her smile; warm and bright. Pushing down the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hermione Granger,”

“Oh I know,” You tell her. “This was not how I imagined us meeting,”

“You’ve imagined us meeting?”

With wide eyes, your brain goes into panic mode. Did you really just say that out loud? “what? no. Of course, not that would be weird," You chuckle a little more to yourself than anything else. "I just meant I’ve seen you around and like.. i..." You were drawing a blank.  "I just thought we’d meet in like the great hall or something, not me running into you or something- nothing else. Sorry.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“Yeah... sorry. It’s just this is awkward,” Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “This is awkward. Not ‘You’re awkward’, but just ‘cause we’re… I’m awkward. You’re gorgeous.”

“Excuse me?”

What was wrong with you today? The words were falling from your lips faster than a golden snitch and it was getting more embarrassing by the minute. “Uh, nothing.” You swallow hard. “You’re not going home?”

“Not yet,” Hermione's head shakes a small obviously awkward smile on her lips. Maybe she wanted this conversation to end almost as much as you do. “So where were you off to in such a hurry?”

“Pardon?”

“You know because you like ran into me?” The Gryffindor questions.

“Oh- yeah. I’m just going out in the snow- you could come if you like? Or not? Is that weird to ask somebody I don’t know?”

“A little,” She chuckles.

"Okay... well, I'm gonna go." You've never wanted the sink into a deep dark whole more.

“But I’d love to join you. Let me just take this back to the common room and I'll meet you in the courtyard, okay?"

"Oh," You just stare at her for a minute, awfully confused as to how you hadn't scared her off with your awkwardness but then that doubt turned into a welcoming smile. "Okay."

[schnitzelbutterfingers]

To Someone Special (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

notes: happy holidays! please take the time to celebrate with your family and friends. 2020 was an egregious year, but let’s thank god for letting us survive through the whole COVID pandemic. let’s pray for everyone to get through this. 

anyways, here is my christmas present to you all, wrapped with some angst and fluff! ethan’s ex-girlfriend from his med school days who cheated on him with another ‘friend’ (and no, it’s not tobias :)) makes an appearance hehe. forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes and grammar errors, and as always enjoy! (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

(i felt like this was similar to @jamespotterthefirst ‘s fic ‘Fake Husband/Wife’, so i asked permission to write this, and she gave me it. shoutout to bree!)

summary: On Christmas, 10 years ago, he gave his heart to a girl. The very next day, she gave it away. This Christmas, to save him from tears, Ethan will give it to someone special.

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x f!mc (dr. abigail ‘abby’ chacko) || mentions of past dr. ethan ramsey x dr. aubrie zavala

warning(s): angst (mentions of cheating) and fluff (mentions of proposal)

word count: 1999

** i suggest you listen to ‘last christmas’ by wham! :) **

_______________________________________________________________

‘The most wonderful time of the year.’

If it were years ago, Ethan would chuckle at the preposterousness of this statement. 

To everyone else, the Christmas season is full of jubilation, nostalgia and generosity. Giving and donating had become a peculiarity of the days neighboring the observed holiday, street-corners crowded with Santas ringing golden bells. 

Houses twinkled with multi-colored and pulsing lights, bouncing off the crystalline white snow. Inside the houses, trees glimmered with more colorful lights and various decorative ornaments. Christmas colors added sumptuousness. Classic poinsettias are tied, and candy canes add some idiosyncrasy, dangling from the mouths of exhilarated children. Joyful music and golden bells can be heard from everyone’s car.

To the senior doctor, it’s dissimilar. Christmas means more work to do at the hospital. Emergency rooms are filled with injured patients who were looking forward to blithesome moments with their friends and family. The roads are slick with shiny ice, vehicles slipping across the road to hit the one next to it or a broad tree. And the mistletoe. On one occasion, he had to escape an elderly grandmother with wrinkly skin and gray hair, who was convinced that he was Bob Dylan. Yet he wasn’t even an accurate replica and they didn’t sound the same.

Seeing other interns and derisory people kiss under the mistletoe makes him turn away with disgust. He cordially hated PDA. Well, that is, until he met her.

When Ethan met Abigail, however, he felt some sort of attraction to her, something he couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard he tried. Her compassion, her wit, her charm, her intelligence, her everything. 

It felt like some sort of grip she had, her usual chocolate aroma, big brown eyes, wavy hair, and her milky skin all holding on to him like a police officer would do to a criminal. And it’s addicting.

But now, looking at his Rookie from across their luxurious bedroom, getting ready for the Christmas Gala hosted by Bloom Edenbrook Hospital, he started to look forward to the breathless moments under the mistletoe. On second thought, why does he need to kiss Abby under the mistletoe when he can kiss her anywhere? They are officially dating, after all.

He wanted to satisfy her and hear her singing goofily along with the carols in their cars. He wanted to see her tastefully decorate their penthouse with stockings, ornaments, a garland. He wanted to see her making sticky toffee pudding and her longtime favorite gulab jamuns, even if he claims he doesn’t like sugar. She, in return, would constantly mock him, prompting him of the day when he focused his eyes on the delicious chocolate bar in the vending machine at the hospital. He wanted it all with her.

Abby was adorning a long sleeve crimson velvet dress, strikingly showing some cleavage. She wore a generous split from her right thigh down, parading her creamy legs. She looked divine. She looked like heaven. The red gown made her look scandalous. 

She cleared her throat, smirking at him staring at her. “Are you finished?”

“You look...” The more conventional doctor was at a loss of words, looking at her up and down. He started from her soiled velvet heels, moving up to her wavy cafe hair.

“...sinful.”

Abby flashed him a sly grin. “Why, thank you, Doctor. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Indeed he doesn’t. Ethan sported a matching outfit, a suit with a red velvet coat black shirt and a crimson bowtie.

“I can’t wait to come back after this gala. You’re making me lose my patience.”

She chortled, lovely music to his ears. “Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

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

The gala invited all the hospitals in Boston, including Mass Kenmore. It was being held at The Seaport World Trade Center, one of the largest venues in the city. Ethan and Abby arrived at the front of the venue, walking towards the entrance. Inside, a waiter took them to the very front table, the one where their seats were reserved.

They were recognized as the ‘rich couple’ and the ‘power couple’ of Edenbrook. It was no surprise that some of the doctors decided to gossip about them, stating how they match and look excellent together. Some women were jealous, and Abby could feel covetous eyes burning behind her back. The male doctors were also envious of Ethan, that he got to be with the young graceful doctor. In return, Ethan winded his protecting arm tighter around her slim waist, a clear mark that she is his. Only his. 

The front table additionally included Naveen, Harper, Tanaka, and Tobias Carrick. When Ethan and Tobias faced encountered other at the front table, the Mass Kenmore doctor somehow took his hand out, waiting for the famous diagnostician to shake it. Ethan was stupefied at first, but then he remembered what Tobias did for them, saving his Rookie from the maitotoxin. After a rare moment Ethan shook it, sending the latter a faint smile, to which he returned. Abby beamed at their interaction, glad that they finally cleared the air that had been surrounding them for more than a decade.

Naveen greeted both of them with a hearty hug, and Harper sent both of them a pleasant smile. The Chacko looked around the decorated room to discover her friends, all relaxing at a table. When she spotted them, she gave them a huge wave, to which they imitated back. It relaxed her to have Ethan and her friends in the same room, forgetting about the upcoming discussions with the money-eating scumbags who only care about wealth and not for the wellbeing of their patients.

Tobias and Ethan sat between Abby, and all the seats were filled except for one.

As if interpreting her thoughts, Tobias sought a confused question. “Are we expecting someone else at our table?”

“I believe we are,” Naveen answered.

The young doctor wanted to talk to her friends for a little while. Otherwise, everyone was roaming around, mingling with people.

Ethan seemed to detect this because he leaned in to whisper to her ear. “If you want to hang out with your friends, you can go ahead. It’s understandable, if you’re bored, as am I. Besides, I’ll just talk to Tobias.”

Abby sent him a grateful smile, not only for excusing her, but because he wanted to talk to his old (former?) friend. She was genuinely happy that their relationship is getting better and better.

In return, she bestowed him a kiss on his cheek and went to the table across the room, where her colleagues are. 

Her friends said the usual. Bryce and Kyra are dating, and they adopted a puppy after moving in together. Sienna doesn’t think she will move on from Danny, and that her heart will always belong to him, but the enormous pain had subsided. Elijah and Phoebe went on another date which had gone really well. Jackie’s debt is under control, and she said that she felt at peace and tranquility. 

After she had finished socializing, she looked back to her reserved table, where she saw a woman, a rather charming one, probably in her 30s. She had raven hair and porcelain skin, and was assuming a royal blue dress with an elegant split across her left thigh, displaying her beautiful legs. Standing next to her boyfriend. Being too touchy with her man. Abby was ordinarily not the type to be jealous, but looking at the woman made herself feel ugly.

Her eyes went to Ethan, who had a horrified look on his face. They moved to Tobias who had a similar expression. Naveen and Harper both had uncomfortable looks.

The latter captured her eye and came up to her.

Abby was confused, so she decided to convey this confusion to Carrick. “Is everything alright at our table? Is that woman the last person to occupy the empty seat?”

Carrick sighed deeply. “She... is Dr. Aubrie Zavala. Another famous diagnostician... She is also Ethan’s ex-girlfriend.”

That’s when she glanced back at their table and saw both of them arguing.

Tobias must have noted this because he replied, “Ethan and Aubrie are both arguing now. Back in Hopkins, she cheated on with another med student named Dillan, I think. And it was at Christmas. Now Aubrie wants him back.”

The cacophonous racket heard in the auditorium drained away from the ears of the young doctor, and the sounds of warning bells replaced it. 

What the hell am I supposed to do to grab her butt off the table?

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She examined her bag and found a fake diamond ring. Her mother gave this to her; she saw this at the store and found it pretty. Abigail always kept it in her bag, a reminder that her mom loves her. It looks real, so this can work. The Chacko placed the ring on her left ring finger. Tobias, knowing what Abby was about to do, gave her a wink. She smiled back and walked over to their table.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Abby asked innocently. Ethan’s oceanic eyes widened as he saw the mischievous gleam in her coffee eyes. 

The woman, who was now dubbed Aubrie, turned around to look at her with a grim expression. 

“Babe?” Aubrie threatened lowly, “Who the hell do you think you are, calling my Ethan ‘babe’?” Oh, this girl has it coming.

Abby offered her a fierce smile, showing off her properly ‘engagement’ ring. “Well, I’m pretty sure I called my fiancée babe, right Ethan?” 

Instantly, Ethan understood. She wanted to play as his wife-to-be now, did she? Well, that can be easily arranged, Ethan smirks, deciding to play along.

“Well, you see, Dr. Zavala, you do remember how I love hearing the opera, don’t you? I took Abby to one of my favorite operas named Carmen, and I proposed to her there. She cried happy tears and said ‘yes’.”

Aubrie’s furious face slowly drained of color, as she realized they are engaged. She now has to live with the regrets from the past. Her violent hands started to shake a little as she realized who she was arguing with the whole time.

“Wait, are you Dr. Abigail Chacko? One of the youngest doctors in America, Sister of the famous surgeon Sebastian Chacko, the youngest member of Edenbrook’s diagnostic team, and the person who cured Dr. Naveen Banerji?” Zavala asked slowly, her shrill voice starting to grow tense.

Abby, on the other hand, was having too much fun with this. “Bingo! You got it right!”

Right away, when she said that, Aubrie reluctantly left the whole table, stomping on the way like a teenager. Naveen and Harper both had amusing smiles on their faces, Tobias tried not to choke on his wine, and Ethan had the biggest smirk ever. 

Abby took off her fake ring and placed it in her bag. At once, Ethan gave her a sounding kiss on her plump lips, not minding anyone any attention. 

“How did you know I had a pretty rough time here?” Ethan asked curiously. 

She smiled triumphantly. “Well, I saw all of your uncomfortable faces at the table when Aubrie was here. Tobias saw me and gave me an explanation to what was happening. I’m so sorry you had to go through that during your med school days.”

Ramsey gently stroked her smooth and delicate cheek. “It’s fine. Besides, I got an even better woman right here.” 

Tobias cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but can you please just continue this later at home? I’m tryna drink some good wine here.”

Everyone snorted, but Ethan’s mind went back to the actual engagement ring he bought for her at their penthouse, stored inside one of his worn-out shoes. He was actually planning to propose to her tomorrow, on Christmas Day. 

Taking her to one of my favorite operas named Carmen, proposing to her there.

Oh, he can’t wait for this chaotic day to be over.

_______________________________________________________________

notes: if you’ve made it this far, thank you!

 tags:@missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @maurine07 @lucy-268 @thanialis @drakewalkerfantasy​ 

@openheartfanfics​

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[cookinguptales]

oh also just a reminder that the offer for giftfic is still open.

I used to do yuletide and the trick-or-treat exchange every year, but stopped for Various Reasons. still, I have a void in me that can only be filled by writing people bespoke fiction as holiday gifts.

I like the puzzle of deciding how to write something to somewhat narrow specifications! I like knowing at least one person what I'm writing! I like making people happy!

the past few years, in lieu of doing exchanges I've instead offered up fic requests near the end of the year. that's actually how I got started writing nandermo to start with, haha.

so uhhhh if you've ever wanted a fic from me, hmu? I can't promise anything (I... have been very tired lately) but if you know I like a pairing/canon, feel free to ask me for it. origific is fine, too, as long as you have some basic idea in mind.

some more guidelines (such as what I need in a request and things I don't like to write) under the cut

I will not write anything graphically NSFW about underage characters

I will not write even non-graphic adult/minor

I don't want to write noncon, though I'll consider dubcon depending on the characters and what you want. (i.e. sex pollen or whatever? generally fine. combative (but enjoyed) dubcon for characters who have complicated relationships in canon? generally fine. but don't ask me for like....... muppet dubcon or something. I say this because it has been asked.)

I mean honestly I just don't want to write anything super dark for any lighthearted canon, not for the holidays. like.... again, I say this because I have been asked. please don't ask me for muppet tortureporn. not again.

no kinks involving (non-typically sexual) bodily fluids. no shade, it's just a squick for me. this includes bloodplay except for vampires. I guess that's an obvious exception.

honestly, I just reserve the right to be like "nah, that's not my thing" for any kink/pairing. I wanna make you happy, but not by writing something that squicks me.

oh I also don't wanna write PIV lmao

finally, I don't usually like writing characters as being part of a marginalized group they aren't in in canon. (see: non-canon disability, non-canon racebending, non-canon genderswaps, etc.) if they are that thing in canon, that's fine. I just don't usually enjoy writing that kind of AU.

uhhhhh other than that, hmu. I really don't have THAT much I won't write, I just wanted to be kind of exhaustive in the things I don't like writing so I won't waste both of our time.

as for what to send me, I really just ask that you tell me the kind of thing you like and don't like (so it's a gift for you) while giving me prompts that aren't super detailed. the more wiggle room you give me, the better the fic will probably be. a sentence or two? fine. 500 words or something, with tons of details and specific scenes in mind? at that point, you've kind of already written it. lmao

anyway, the sooner you get me a request, the more likely I'll be able to write it by the end of the year.

(though... *looks pointedly at Smoke* sometimes they just take longer to write but still get posted eventually. lmao)

[fred-george-fic]

In the Middle Pt. 5

Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (Eventually)

A/N: Thank you so so much for all of the support! I love making this series and am glad to share it with all of you. (George’s face in the Weasley twins gif is for sure how he looks when he sees you).

Summary: It’s time for the Yule Ball & Christmas!

Pairing(s): Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist: ~Part 1~Part 2~Part 3~Part 4~

Warnings: none! (italics= letter or note) Y/F/I= your first initial

The Yule Ball

A few weeks later, Professor McGonagall has gathered everyone from Gryffindor and separated everyone with boys on one side and girls on the other. 

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas night we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. I expect you all to be on your best behavior, because the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance.” McGonagall began scanning the room as the girls begin to chat excitedly while the boys instantly groan.

Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell instantly start chatting happily to you about the dance. “And you’re going to get to go with Cedric Diggory!” Angelina said excitedly.

“You’re assuming he’s going to ask me.” You laugh.

“Of course he is! He’s your boyfriend after all.” Katie says. “I just hope someone will ask me.”

“Of course someone will.” You reassure her.

 “Silence!” McGonagall says, instantly quieting the room. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons.”

You see George whisper something to Fred for both of them to start saying “Babbling Bumbling Band of Baboons” at each other, and begin to quietly laugh.

“-Mr. Weasley. Will you join me please?” McGonagall continues. You notice Ron getting up from his seat, looking absolutely mortified. You make eye contact with George, who mid-laugh stops and takes in a deep breath of air. You stare at each other for a moment before Fred grabs his attention. They begin mock dancing and whisper something to Harry.

“Everyone come together! Boys on your feet!” McGonagall shouts, all the girls get up, but the boys just sit there and look embarrassed. Neville Longbottom gets up and asks Ginny to dance with him. The two of them begin dancing next to McGonagall and Ron. “I will start taking away house points!” McGonagall threatens, prompting the rest of the boys to start asking partners.

Both Fred and George approach you quickly. You think for a moment, and whisper in Fred’s ear. “Go ask Angelina.” He nods his head, understanding what you’re doing and begins dancing with her. 

“Care to dance, Y/N? Or are you going to send me off into the arms of another woman as well?” He asks putting out his arms.

You quickly take them and begin dancing together. “Not quite. Although, if you need someone to ask to the ball, Katie Bell is worried no one will ask her. Fred had expressed to me his interest in Angelina in quidditch, so I thought I’d give him a nudge.” You smile, looking over at Fred and Angelina laughing together. “You however, have never told me of any interest in specific girls.”

“Well, I guess I really haven’t had any.” He looks at you, for a moment too long. Then he quickly looks over at Katie who is dancing with Lee. “Maybe I’ll ask Katie though. She’s always been nice in quidditch. Plus, she’s friends with Angelina, which would make it easier.”

“I think she’s a nice choice.” You smile and continue dancing. George wasn’t the most experienced dancer, but you both had a lot of fun laughing while you did it together.

“You all are dismissed for today!” McGonagall shouted, allowing all the students to leave.

Fred and George met back up and began chatting about asking girls to the ball. George looked back at you, “Are you coming, Y/N?”

“Sorry, I am supposed to meet up with Cedric. But, I’ll meet you for dinner?” You wave at them as they walk away, letting out a small sigh.

Once you were out of earshot, Fred and George began a conversation, unknown to you. “I’m going to ask Angelina to the dance.” Fred says. “Are you going to ask someone, George?”

George looks back in the direction you went and sighs. “Yeah, Katie Bell.”

“But, you want to ask Y/N? But, she’s with Cedric and that would be completely out of line?” Fred looks at his twin with a frown. George just nodded his head not wanting to continue this conversation.

 ------- 

You found Cedric coming out of the same type of meeting, down the corridor a bit. Once he saw you, he said goodbye to his friends and began walking towards you. “Hello, love.” He says wrapping you into a tight hug.

You wrap your arms around him and look up. “Did you have to dance too?” You asked, looking at him.

“Yeah, with Hannah Abbot. Professor Sprout wasn’t much for showing us how, so we sort of just figured it out ourselves.” He laughed, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I wanted to talk to you about the ball actually?”

“Come to tell me you want to ask someone else?”

“Well-“ He thinks for a moment, looking away from you. You start to back up from him, but he catches you. “I’m kidding!” He begins laughing, pulling you towards him.

“Ced!” You attempt to wiggle out of his arms, but he’s holding you firmly.

“Y/N, would you do me the honor of attending the Yule Ball with a Triwizard champion?” He asks with a huge smile on his face. 

“Oh, is Harry looking for a date?” You tease, joining in on his laughter. “Cedric, I would love to go to the ball with you.” He grabs onto you tightly, pulling you close and kissing you deeply. Once he pulls away, you both smile.

“Ready for Herbology?” You ask holding your hand out for him. He grabs it kissing you quickly, and heading off in the direction of the Greenhouse.

--------

During the next week, you were sitting in study hall next to Fred and George. You watch as Fred scribbles out a note a passes it to Ron:

             Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone

 Ron looks at Fred and mouths, “Who’re you going with, then?”

Fred holds up one finger, crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at Angelina, who turns her head slowly and glares. Fred points at her, then himself and makes a dancing motion. Angelina smiles and nods her head causing him to wink at Ron. He turns to Hermione and says “So, Hermione, you’re a girl?”

“Well spotted.” She says continuing writing her notes.

“It’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl, it’s just sad.” You see Harry’s eyes get wide as the words come out of Ron’s mouth.

Hermione instantly looks up, glaring at him. “I won’t be going alone because, believe it or not, someone’s asked me!” She whispers loudly, grabbing her notebook, handing it to Professor Snape and running out.

“You’ve really done it this time, Ron.” You said, handing your book to Snape and following her out. You head towards the Gryffindor common room and notice Hermione sitting inside on the couch. “Don’t listen to him, Hermione.” You say wrapping your arm around her.

“He’s just so infuriating!” She slams her book down on the table. “If he was really so concerned, he should’ve just asked me himself!”

“If only boys were smart enough to think like that.” You said with a small laugh. “Who’s your date?” 

“Promise not to tell?” She looks at you.

“Promise.” You put a cross over your heart.

“Victor Krum.” She blushes heavily.

“Victor Krum! I knew he’s been eyeing you ever since he got here!” You excitedly hug her. Suddenly, George and Fred walk in with Ron and Harry in tow. As soon as Hermione sees Ron she excuses herself and heads up to her dormitory.

“George asked Katie to the ball!” Fred shouts as he plops down on the couch next to you.

“He did?” You look over at George who is visibly embarrassed about the entire situation.

“And she said yes.” Harry adds in, taking a seat nearby.

“Congratulations, George!” You cheer, but once you make eye contact with him you notice that he isn’t smiling. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” He says but there’s no recognizable emotion in his face. Before you can protest, he begins to walk upstairs. You look over at Fred and he just shrugs and follows up after him.

 -----

The morning of December 25th was usually your favorite. Typically, you would spend it at the Burrow with the Weasley family. But, since the Yule Ball was this year, everyone was spending the holidays at Hogwarts. However, when mail came in the morning, there was a specific gift for each Weasley kid, Harry, and you. You opened the package carefully, reading the note Molly left inside.

 Y/N,

       Happy Christmas! I talked with your mother yesterday, you will be    accompanying the boys and Ginny here again for the Summer if you would like.

 With Love,

           Molly Weasley

 You open your gift, revealing a blue jumper with a large yellow Y/F/I on the front, which matched Fred and George’s. Your face broke into a wide smile as you slipped it over your head, putting it on. You see the boys and Ginny following suit.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to be putting on a Weasley jumper.” Ron says looking down at his with a grimace.

“Did mom send you a letter?” George asks picking up the piece of paper on the table.

“Your parents aren’t coming back again?” Fred asks reading the paper over George’s shoulder.

“Did you two really think my mother would stop traveling with her husband long enough to acknowledge that she has a child?” You look at both of them and shrug. “He hates magic anyways and we’ll be seventeen by that time, meaning we can use magic outside of school.”

George nods his head in understanding. “You can use magic around our house all you want.” You smile at him and begin to start eating breakfast. 

-------

After breakfast, you spend some time in the common room with Hermione studying together before getting ready for the ball. You both begin to get ready together, helping each other along the way. You change into a light blue sheer dress that has flowers embroidered on it. As the light hits it, there’s a faint shimmer. You also put your hair in a half-up half-down style. You look over at Hermione, who’s wearing a beautiful ombre pink ruffled dress.

“Wow, Hermione! You look amazing!” You say admiring her dress.

“Me? Look at you!” She motions to your dress. “Cedric is going to be speechless.” You smile at her and the two of you begin walking towards the Great Hall together.

As you begin walking down the steps with Hermione, you notice everyone left in the hall way is looking at you both. You make eye contact with George, who stares at you for a long moment before offering you a small wave. You give it back to him and scan the hall until your eyes land on Cedric. He was in the middle of a conversation, but immediately stopped the moment he saw you. Victor approaches first, offering his arm to Hermione, who smiles and takes it. Cedric is close behind, offering you his arm, which you kindly take.

“You look absolutely stunning.” He says walking towards the doors to the Great Hall.

You blush slightly, looking over at Cedric. “You are incredibly handsome tonight yourself.” You kiss him on the cheek as Professor McGonagall starts putting you in the correct order. You and Cedric are third in line, behind Hermione and Victor but in front of Harry and Cho.

As you walk into the hall, everyone begins clapping loudly. Cedric leans towards you, “I seriously cannot get over how gorgeous you are.” He smiles at you as you take the dance floor together.

The song begins causing you to forget about all the people staring at you. In this moment, it’s just you and Cedric enjoying a dance together, everything else just seems to fade away. Cedric’s smile continues as you two dance together. For the first time since Cedric put his name in the Goblet of Fire, you’re not worried about the tournament. At this moment, you were enjoying a dance with a boy like any normal witch could do. As the song ended, you noticed that others had joined the champions on the dance floor. You curtsy to Cedric and he offers you a bow. Instantly, the Weird Sisters start playing “Do the Hippogriff”, igniting cheers from the crowd followed by more dancing.

 -------

As the night continued on, you and Cedric continued to dance together. Eventually, he went off to get a drink and you found the Weasley twins sitting on two chairs having a conversation. “Excuse me boys? It seems you’re missing your third part member?” You try to make your voice sound different to try and confuse them.

“Yeah, well she-“ George began before looking up at you. “Y/N?”

“Well, don’t you two look sophisticated.” You say with a wide grin, taking a seat next to George.

“We clean up good, don’t we?” Fred slightly fixed his dress robes and smirked at you.

“Where are Katie and Angelina?” You ask, noticing the two boys didn’t have their dates.

“They’re getting snacks.” George said pointing towards the Great Hall doors. He looks back at you, staring at you for a moment. “You look great, Y/N.” George says, trying to seem nonchalant. 

Fred nods in agreement. “Yeah, it looks like all three of us know how to clean up!”

You laugh and as you look back at the doors you notice Cedric walking back in. “Well, goodnight boys. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You wave at them and head back towards Cedric.

Once your back is turned, George throws his head in his hands. “She looks bloody gorgeous, Fred!”

“Well, you better pull it together, mate. Katie and Angelina are coming back.” Fred says watching their dates return. “Welcome back, ladies.”

You reach Cedric and he wraps you into a warm embrace. “I wish this night could last forever.”

“Me too. How about one more dance? A slow one?” You ask.

“I would be delighted.” He grabs your hand leading you to the dance floor for the final dance of the evening. You sway to the music together, kissing him softly as the song ends. His face immediately forming into a wide smile.

Cedric walks you back to your common room, kissing you again before saying goodbye and walking back to his own common room. You slide inside the door, noticing a few stragglers who either didn’t attend the ball or had recently come back. You look around to see if George and Fred are around, but when you see they aren’t you head up to your dorm. You change your clothes, putting your Christmas jumper back on and crawl into bed.

-------

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[gotnofucks]

Parts of Whole

(No images are mine, but I did edit them. If anyone knows the owners, do let me know so I can credit them)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Sam x Steve (platonic)

Summary: Steve would see his OTP’s ship sail, even from across the grave.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death (nothing graphic and not very sad), language, angst + fluff

A/N: I saw the trailer for tfatws and I just had to write this. This is also my entry for the amazingly talented @sagechanoafterdark and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork challenge (pic prompts above). Thank you for hosting this and being wonderful. The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics . Huge thanks to @the-inquisitive-hobbit for beta reading and giving me her very valuable insight.

 It never felt right in his hands. It was his to wield, his to claim, and yet it never felt more foreign. The concentric red and white circles with the star embedded in the blue center glared back at him from the mirror. It had been months, but Sam had never taken this shield with him to any mission. He couldn’t.

It felt starkly cold in his hands, lifeless and materialistic. It was Steve’s symbol of strength and hope. It used to hang on his back, warmed by his body heat. Now, it seemed like the shield only existed to remind him of Steve’s absence. This shield was made for Steve. It belonged to him, it always would. How could he ever stand where he stood? How could Sam ever be the captain that Steve was, take this shield that held more power than a crown on a head?

He put it down again, covering it with a cloth before shutting the door on it, leaning heavily against it. He missed him, he missed him like a throbbing wound that refused to heal. If only he could see the sun shining on those golden locks again, have those baby blue eyes smile at him again. What wouldn’t he give for that.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a heavy hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sam didn’t open his eyes, just let the weight of it anchor him, let it bring him back from the chaos that was his mind. The cold metal hand felt like a relief against the overwhelming burden of grief that penetrated his being whenever he touched the circular shield.

“I miss him too.” Bucky said, and Sam opened his eyes. Bucky’s eyes were blue too, slightly grey where Steve’s were green. He could see himself reflected in them and he straightened, looking away, hiding his weakness.

This mantle of Steve Rogers that he was supposed to assume, this legacy he was supposed to take forward felt like cheating. His friend, his mentor, his brother was no more. How could people just expect him to move on? But they did. It didn’t matter he was emotionally compromised, it didn’t matter he wanted to drown, like Steve nearly had at the Potomac all those years ago. The world didn’t wait to create one disaster after another. They needed Captain America then, and they needed him now. Like Fury said, trouble always sticks around.

Sam cleared his throat, making sure he was collected before looking at Bucky again.

“Everything loaded in the Quinjet?” He asked and Bucky nodded. They’ll be leaving for another mission soon, and Sam was glad he’ll have the sounds of battle to drown the war in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky said once Sam started leaving. “Take it.”

Sam looked at Bucky over his shoulder, his gaze equal parts pain and accusation. Of everyone, Bucky shouldn’t be the one telling him this.

“I’ll meet you in the jet.” He said firmly and quickly marched to his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated coming back to the compound, the lingering memories of their fallen warriors whispering in his ears every time he was here. He preferred his little house in the woods where it was only Bucky and nature with him.

He took out his tactical gear, laying it on the bed and getting out his wings when he heard it.

“You are punishing yourself Sam.” Came his voice.

It was this moment where Sam broke, sliding down the wall and letting a few tears escape. He was gone but he never left him.

“How could you have been so selfish Steve. Why?” He asked, looking up to glare at Steve. Even dead he looked so handsome, so put together with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look like the old man they had buried a month after the battle. No. He was their Steve, their young, beautiful Steve who left them behind.

Sam didn’t know why he saw him. He didn’t know if this was a ghost or a creation of his mind. To him, it was Steve. It was Steve and it was a beautiful suffering to see him again every time he reappeared.

“I am sorry.” Steve said and knelt before Sam, looking apologetic. Sam didn’t try touching him. Not when the first hundred times his hand just went through him.

“You are? What for?” Sam asked. “For leaving behind your shield and title, for leaving me behind, or for abandoning a best friend you promised to walk till the end of the line with? What are you really sorry for Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer, he never did. He let Sam take out his hurt and anger, and Sam cried. In the privacy of his walls, he cried. He was so tired of pretending to be strong, to be happy. He hid behind his jokes and smiles, fooled the world which was so ready to move on while Sam was buried somewhere with Steve in the cemetery, half dead, half alive.

“I am sorry Sam, for everything.” Steve insisted. “But you need to stop punishing yourself for mistakes you never made. You can’t live this way.”

Sam snorted a laugh for even in death Steve was a humanitarian bastard. He didn’t come back to haunt his enemies; oh no the centenarian came back to help his friends. Why didn’t people see that he could never be Steve? That Sam Wilson can never, won’t ever be the Captain that Steven Rogers was.

“I hate you so much Steve, I really do.” Sam whispered, wiping his nose and getting up. Steve watched him getting changed, no barriers of shame between them from that side of the grave.

“You always said that. I have never heard a ‘I love you’ more pronounced than I do in your hate.” Steve commented with a soft smile, it widened when Sam gave him a half-hearted glare. It was amazing how they could go from having a painful conversation to joking, but that was how it worked with Steve. He knew Sam, he knew everything that made him laugh and made him smile.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a tea party with Gandhi or some other do-gooder like you in the afterlife?” Sam grumbled, tightening the belt in his suit and attaching his wings to it. Steve chuckled, sitting on the chair and watching Sam with a relaxed smile.

“They are too uptight for me. Mother Teresa tried to adopt me the other day” Steve said, and Sam laughed. His wings were the colours of American Flag, a new change. He grabbed his weapons and fixed Steve with a look, hating and loving him for being so him.

“I’ll see you after the mission?” He asked tentatively. He would never admit it, but he feared one day Steve would disappear again. It was crazy, it was not normal to see dead people, but Sam would rather have a shadow of Steve than just a memory.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me Sam. Always.” Steve said, a sad smile on his face when he saw Sam leaving without the shield.

Sharon greeted him in the jet, talking to Bucky and the other agents over the blueprint spread before them. Sam nodded his hello, snatching the half empty pack of Cheetos from Bucky’s hand and munching on it.

“So now you want to steal the show and my food. You’re such a dick Wilson.” Bucky said, poking Sam in his shoulder and Sam poked his tongue out at him, a gap-toothed smile on his face. Their previous somber interaction would not be mentioned, filed again like so many inside the neglected corner of their minds.

“Bitch, I paid for grocery this month. This is technically mine.” Sam replied, making Bucky scowl. Sam knew there was a 70-30 chance he’ll find his bed crawling with centipedes when they got back home.

“Charming, boys.” Sharon remarked rolling her eye. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? Must be nice to have a holiday.”

Bucky shrugged, sharing a look with Sam. It was their first Christmas without Steve, a 6 feet 2-inch void always between them.

“Nothing special. Stay home, watch movies, eat a lot.” Bucky said. A lot remained unsaid, but they rarely needed words to communicate anymore. Sam bumped his shoulder in his, offering him some Cheetos to munch while he silently grieved.

“Well, I’ll leave my address here for you to deliver your presents to me.” Sharon joked and Sam laughed softly, mentally making a note to get her something.

“Alright then, and I’ll just casually remark that my phone and laptop are both in serious need for an upgrade. Just saying.” Sam said. “Hey Buck, what are you going to gift me?”

Bucky crumpled the empty chips packet before sending Sam an amused glare, flipping him off.

“A ball gag, so that I can hear something other than your stupid voice.” He snarked.

“Damn dude, at least ask me out for dinner before getting kinky.” Sam winked and Bucky swelled with indignation, pointing an accusing metal finger at Sam.

“I cook dinner 3 times a week you bastard, and I don’t even burn it!” He protested making Sam laugh louder than ever. He loved making Bucky mad, teasing him into an incensed rage that usually ended in a pillow fight or sometimes with Sam’s head in a headlock.

They straightened as they saw the incredulous looks on the new agents’ faces, baby agents as Bucky liked to call them. It was times like these, when both the battle-hardened veterans missed their lost teammates, the inside jokes that were shot around with as much precision as bullets and arrows on the battlefield.

They got to work again, discussing the mission and its details with the other agents. Sam would run point on scaling the territory and fly down to the enemy base with two agents while Bucky would guide him from up here and take out potential threats. They just needed to secure a technological innovation and it didn’t seem too like much work. As Sam poured over the briefing, his eyes subconsciously went over to Bucky who was fiddling with the equipment, making sure everything was in working condition.

If someone had told him a few years ago that Bucky would become his anchor, his solace in his darkest hours, Sam would have punched them in the face. But as it happened, they came to lean on each other, the only unchanged part of their older lives, the only person who made each feel that were still real, still alive. They were still annoyed by each other, but the arguments were more of a routine than an actual expression of resentment.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone deliberately coughed behind him.

“He is so pretty, isn’t he?” Steve asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Bucky Barnes was a beauty, from his blue grey eyes to the new golden streaks running through his new arm. Sam tried not to notice the way Bucky’s armor clung to his muscles, his face looking almost boyish as he forgot the world and focused on his task.

“I thought you said I’ll see you after the mission.” Sam muttered, taking care that no one noticed him talking to air. He hurriedly looked away from Bucky when their eyes met, a heat rising in his cheeks that made Steve chuckle.

“I said I’ll be there when you need me. And it seems like you do.” Steve commented. He took the seat next to Sam, so near that Sam swore he could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam snapped, the smug look on Steve’s face making him wish he could touch him if only to be able to punch him. Stupid blonde best friends with perfect teeth and beautiful smiles and an ass that looked just as round after being dead.

“Oh, I think you do.” Steve said, shifting his gaze to Bucky. “I liked his hair longer but the shorter is going well with the new arm. Don’t you think?”

Despite himself Sam found himself nodding, admiring Bucky as he’d done a thousand times before. He liked his longer hair too, but without them falling in his face, he could see him better. And the arm. The new arm that gave Sam tingles in the most delicious ways, it had him flustered for three whole weeks after Bucky first showed up with it on him.

He didn’t know when it started, but Bucky had somehow become the most beautiful person to Sam. From the way he would make him the perfect mug of coffee to their little kitchen garden they started to keep themselves busy, he loved everything about him. Those moments where he would sense the turmoil inside Sam and silently slip his hands in Sam’s to assure him that he was there, these little moments endeared him even more.

Sam had lost count of how many times Bucky and he had woken up on the couch, sharing a blanket, both silently afraid to sleep alone. He had forgotten how many times he had spent kneeling at Bucky’s bedside, coaxing him out from a nightmare. Every moment spent in each other’s company, laughing, joking, mourning together, it brought them together in a way Sam had never imagined before.

“Tell him” Steve said, a wistful look on his face as he looked at his best friend. “He feels the same. I know.”

Sam shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Bucky with reluctance. He’d already lost so much, he wouldn’t lose Bucky too. Not because he has a minor, very minor teensy tiny crush on him.

“Man, shut the hell up.” He snapped.

“Who’re you talking to?” Bucky called out from across the jet and Sam’s head snapped up, mouth parting a little before he mumbled out a ‘no one’ and focused on the papers in his hand. Sometimes he felt guilty for keeping Steve a secret, for keeping Bucky away from his best friend. He knew Bucky cried into his pillow at nights, he knew because he’d held him then, tried his best to fill the cracks that appeared in the walls of Bucky’s heart as well as his own.

But then, Steve chose to come to him. Chose to talk to Sam. And he was afraid that telling anyone would disturb this magic, whatever this was. That he would once again have to bury Steve. So, he kept quiet. He buried this secret in the deep recesses of his mind, the initial worry of insanity long forgotten in favor of seeing his friend again.

“Do you even have a plan?” Bucky questioned, watching him prepare for the jump. Sam had a job for every agent accompanying him, but the idiot had not outlined anything for himself.

“I do.” Sam said, and when Bucky looked unconvinced, he lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re my plan, my backup. I scream, jump down and get my ass back up.”

Saying this, Sam jumped, the exasperated look on Bucky’s face imprinted behind his eyelids as his wings flared out and he floated.

Everything that could have gone wrong on this mission did, and Bucky was hysterical even before Sam’s call for backup came. He was going to kick Nick Fury’s ass, but before that he was going to bring his friend back in one-piece and chew him out for giving him a heart attack.

Sam’s wings took most of the weight of the fall, so he came back with a sprained ankle and bruises. Bucky was getting increasingly irritated when they came back home, their little secluded spot in the woods welcoming them with the smell of pine and wild grass.

“It’s not my fault Fury gave us shitty intel.” Sam groaned, “You can stop being salty now.”

Bucky remained quiet, the silent treatment going for almost the third day in row and Sam was at his wits end. It was stupid and ridiculous because Bucky almost always pulled the stupidest moves in the field, like stopping a bomb with his hand or listening to the villain’s evil monologue.

Steve was grinning as he leaned against the edge of the table, and with every suggestive wink he gave Sam, the new Captain America resisted the urge to throw a vase at him.

“He cares so much that he’s speechless.” Steve commented and Sam flipped him off. Dickhead has been giving running commentary of the thick tension in the air since they came back, and Sam was on the verge of calling for an exorcism.

“Why do you do that?” Bucky asked suddenly and Sam was so glad to hear him talk again it took him a while to understand the question.

“What?”

“This thing, looking somewhere and talking to yourself, or – I don’t know, you keep being weird.”

“You’re the one with the cyborg brain and arm and I’m weird” Sam tried deflecting. Bucky frowned, coming closer to sit near Sam, leaving abandoned Christmas decorations scattered around them. Clint had delivered it for them but neither had the heart to put them up.

“Sam.” Bucky deadpanned, and Sam sighed, resting his head back and avoiding eye contact. He looked at Steve who was still smiling, his beautiful face like a slap on the face and caress on the head at the same time.

It was more difficult than one would assume to explain. Why did Sam see Steve, and why did only Sam see Steve? Was it a hallucination, or his spirit? Would Steve go away if Sam confided in Bucky? Would Bucky be mad he didn’t tell him? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and yet as Sam looked into Bucky’s eyes, shining like sapphires, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Its…Its Steve.” He said, looking down and playing with the soft lint on his blanket. He didn’t hear Bucky say anything but moments later a metal hand gripped his, stopping its nervous movements.

“Steve?”

Sam gulped, the coolness of Bucky’s hand in his warming his heart, swelling it with hope and an emotion Sam was too afraid to acknowledge.

“Steve, he – he talks to me.” Sam confessed and tentatively looked at Bucky whose eyes were brimming with emotion. He expected him to call him crazy, or to get mad, but what he did not expect was Bucky to shift closer and take Sam’s other hand in his too.

“He talks to me as well.” Bucky said. Sam was breathless, both by the slight smell of cinnamon that came from Bucky and the way Bucky came even closer, close enough that he could count the flecks in his eyes.

“He does?” Sam asked and Bucky nodded.

“I don’t know how he does it with you, but whenever I need him, miss him, I feel him speak to me from here.” With this Bucky placed one of Sam’s hand on his chest, the beating heart under thumping strongly. Unconsciously, Sam’s hand caressed Bucky’s chest, mapped its muscles and the jagged scars that bulged under his left shoulder.

“I see him.” Sam admitted, unable to look away from Bucky. “I can see him”

Tears blurred his vision until they dropped on his cheeks, sliding down, and forging a river down, leaving a trail of hurt, betrayal, and loss in their wake. Bucky’s hand came up to wipe them away, staying on Sam’s cheek, playing with the soft hair on his chin.

“I see him too. In you.” Bucky said and they didn’t know who moved first, but their foreheads were touching and then their lips met in a chaste, hesitant kiss. Sam melted into his touch, molding himself to fall into Bucky’s larger frame, his arms circling his waist and pulling him closer. They kissed as if they had walked a hundred miles just to kiss each other, as if they had saved every last breath just to live this moment.

“I – I, Buck –” Sam began but Bucky shushed him, pulling him into another soul-searching kiss before pulling away.

“I know.” He murmured.

As Sam relaxed in Bucky’s warm embrace, lost himself in the blues of Bucky’s eyes, he noticed Steve from the corner of his eyes. There was sadness on his face, the pain of a goodbye in the creases around his eyes. But when he smiled, he smiled with genuine love and happiness. The two parts of his soul he’d left behind seemed to have found themselves, and with them Steve felt himself complete.

“Till the end of the line pals.” He whispered.

Sam never saw Steve again.

Their Christmas was not very festive in terms of decoration. There was still too much pain, too much suffering in their hearts. Steve and Nat’s pictures beamed at them from the walls, and Sam sent Pepper the confirmation that they’ll come over for New Years.

It was a beautiful thing about human nature, about how one rises from the ashes to become stronger. Sam and Bucky lost someone, but they found each other. In the shared grieve of their hearts, they discovered the love long buried in there, eagerly waiting to be spread and shared.

They stayed warm under the blanket, wearing oversized sweaters that they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing outside. The sweaters may or may not have been Steve's; the soldiers mutually decided to hold Steve close in this way. Sam’s heart was tripled in size, as his head rested in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon melting together to make a little world of their own. Sam wondered if he would mind growing out his hair again.

“So, what did you get me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t mind if Bucky did get him that ball gag. Part of him almost hoping for it.

“How rude Wilson, here I’ve given you all of myself and you still thirst for more.” Bucky mocked and Sam tackled him into a hug, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bitch, you’re lucky I lo-” Sam cut himself off, suddenly shy. The smirk on Bucky’s face melted into a smile, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Say it” Bucky ordered. And Sam did. The Captain obeyed his Sergeant without hesitation.

“I love you. I love you so freaking much! I got us the cheesiest gifts.” Sam said in excitement. He pulled away long enough to grab his gift from under the bed, giving it to Bucky to open. He watched with his bottom lip between his teeth as Bucky opened the box to pull out two chains, each dangling with a rectangular pendant.

Dog tags.

Their dog tags. Bucky raised his eyes to Sam’s, fisting his hand in Sam’s t-shirt to pull him closer into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, hips grinding as passion merged with love and emotion.

“I love you!” Bucky growled and kissed Sam again. “And I got you chocolates that look like dicks. I didn’t know this would happen between us when I bought them, and I was going to give you a hint with them.”

Sam’s laughter echoed around their small house, the dopey smile on his face remaining intact as they ate candy and burnt sparklers into the night. In the colourful light that played on their faces, they held hands together, filling the void that was there with the warmth of each other.

“We can use the shield as a sleigh until you’re comfortable using it as a weapon.” Bucky mused and Sam smiled into his neck, thinking of a certain blond asshole who may have gone away, but will never be lost.

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[wlntrsldler]

unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness???

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.2K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

UNREQUITED PLAYLISTS (SEND ME SONGS!)

-

PART 10

“Meet me in the meadows after hours? -D”

You smiled down at the piece of parchment that was sticking out of your Charms book. You looked around, trying to see how Draco managed to slip it in your book. Not seeing the blond anywhere, you tucked the note in your pocket and resumed your day. 

It was your first day back to Hogwarts from the holidays. Before you got to school, you picked up something for Draco as a thank you for his presents for you. At first you wanted to send it off, excitement getting the best of you, but his worried expression that was engraved in your mind made you worry. What if the wrong hands got the presents? You knew Draco didn’t like his home. You chose not to risk it and decided to hold onto it until you saw him in person again. So far, there hasn’t been a good time to talk to him. Everyone was too hyper with seeing each other again that Draco was almost, always surrounded by his Slytherin followers. 

On your way to the Great Hall, people were greeting each other, happy that they got to see their friends again. The trio were nowhere to be found, which isn’t a good sign, given the past few years. The twins were in the Great Hall, already making the entire Gryffindor table burst out in laughter. They were showing off their new product, another pranking item, as usual. Blaise was their first target. You shook your head, praying that they won’t get in too much trouble for their pranks. 

You couldn’t wait for the day to be over. You stayed silent at the Hufflepuff table, not in the mood to talk to any of your housemates, who avoided you like the plague anyway. As people started to disperse, you followed their lead and retreated to your dormitory. You glanced at the two bottles of cologne on your dresser, smiling at the memories each held. You sprayed some of the evergreen cologne on your wrist, something in the air drawing you to it more than the golden one for today. 

You’ve noticed that you were torn between the two most days. Some days you opted to use Cedric’s cologne, his absence hitting you more than you would like to admit. During those days, you would read his journal, which you’ve already finished, and spend extra time on the page where he declared his love for you. You would close your eyes and repeat, “I love you, Cedric.” You repeated it like a mantra, hoping that wherever he was, he was able to hear you too. 

Some days you used Draco’s cologne, missing the boy’s presence a bit more than normal. You’d spray it and imagine his hands writing the note to you in his perfect handwriting. How he was probably concentrated over the piece of parchment, maybe even sealing the envelope with a kiss. It’s wishful thinking, you knew that, thinking that Draco may feel something for you too. But it lived in your mind, never letting you rest from the thought. 

Once they called lights out, you waited a few minutes before slipping out to the garden and into the passageway. You looked at the small box in your hand, heart beating against your chest. You were more than nervous. What if he didn’t like it? What if you misread the situation entirely? 

“Y/N.” 

You didn’t realize you were already in the meadows. Your feet knew exactly where to go without directions from your brain. You stopped, breath hitched in your throat. Draco stood there, paler than ever before, eyes sunken in, and a bit skinnier than you remembered. He smiled widely when he saw you emerge from the passageway, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He walked over to you, arms parted as if he was about to hug you, then he hesitated. A blush covered his cheeks, dropping his arms by his sides, and shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to his toes. 

Sensing his awkwardness, you outstretched your arms, beckoning him to come close. “C’mere.” 

He reluctantly obeyed, stiffly hugging you back. You sighed, running your hand across his back, feeling the hardness of his spine against his jumper. You squeezed him tighter as you felt him melt into your arms. You cradled him like that for a while, letting him bury his neck into the crook of your neck. He was hunched over, letting you cover him like a safety blanket. You treasured his scent, shivering when his cold fingers accidentally traced over the skin on your neck. 

He flinched, quickly moving away, “Sorry.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, hating the way he pulled back like it was second nature. You walked over to him, lacing your fingers with his, hoping he’d see that you didn’t mind the cold. You tugged on his hand and walked down deeper into the meadows. “I got you something.” 

Draco looked at you, confused, as he stared at the little box you held in the palm of your hand. He took it, inspecting it closely. “For what?” 

“For Christmas, silly.” You giggled, urging him to open it. You chewed on your bottom lip, growing more and more nervous as he made his way to undo the bow on top. “Thank you, by the way. For the cologne.” 

“It’s the least I can do.” He replied, sincerely. He opened the box and saw a silver ring in the middle of it. Draco picked it up, noticing the engraving on the outside of the ring. It looked like it was your handwriting. 

You are good.

Draco took in a harsh breath. He kept his head down, tears congregating in his eyes. Nobody has ever told him that. All his life he’s been known as the heir of Slytherin, the Slytherin prince, a Malfoy- a name that held so much weight that he didn’t want to carry. He re-read it, over and over again. His thumb rubbed against the engraving, memorizing the way it’s engraved within the metal. Before he slipped it on, he felt the ridges of the inner engraving. He tilted the ring to the right and read the words inside. 

You are not the choices forced upon you. 

He couldn’t stop the tears from falling once he read those words. He still kept his head down, embarrassed that he was crying so much from your present. He was silent, quietly sniffling and breathing out shaky breaths. Silence fell upon the two of you, meters apart. Draco was looking down while you stared at him, biting down on your thumb, unsure of what to make of his reaction. 

You grew scared and decided to break the ice, “I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I just noticed that you no longer had your Slytherin ring and I thought you’d like a ring as a replacement. N-not that this ring is as good as your Slytherin ring, Merlin knows it’s probably not as good of a quality but maybe you’d lik-”

“I love it.” Draco interrupted, finally looking up. A real smile was etched on his face, tears slipping out of his eyes once again. He slipped it on his finger, almost jumping when he saw a faint yellow light blink from the ring. “What was that?” 

“Oh, I almost forgot.” You blushed, stepping closer to him. You held the hand that sported his ring, watching it light up again. “I used magic to make it more personal to us. Whenever I want you to know that I’m thinking of you, it shoots out the light. You wrote in your note that you were thinking of me and I just wanted to show you I’m thinking of you too.” 

“You’re thinking of me right now?” 

“Always am but I don’t think you’d want it shooting out yellow lights all the time.” You laughed. “I’m sure people would get a bit annoyed too.”

He stared at it, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “Let them be.” 

“I hope you like it.” 

“I love it.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Draco closed his eyes, thinking of everything that happened in the Malfoy Manor throughout the holidays. Would you still think of him as a good man if you found out what he did? To find out what he’s being forced to do? He knew you would never look at him the same if you found out. And if he was being honest, he doesn’t want you to ever stop looking at him the way you do now.

You look at him with stars in your eyes. You don’t look at him in hopes of getting something, in hopes to accomplish something. You’re not using him for his name, for his power. You’re not expecting anything from him but his true self. You’re looking at him like you want him. It’s the way you looked at Cedric the first time he saw the two of you. It’s the way he looked at you all those years. Now, you’re looking at him in the same way. Call him selfish, but he wasn’t ready to give that up. 

A piece of him broke knowing as much as he felt for you- dare he say it, as much as he loved you, he would never be able to love you the way he wants to. He itched his forearm, his reminder that life will not always be kind to him, the way it is now. Draco ignored the burning sensation on his arm and found the courage to look at you again. Your eyes twinkled with innocence, cheeks rosy, and nose red because of the cold. You were shivering under the moon, awkwardly rubbing your hands up and down your arms for warmth. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. He knew it probably didn’t help much, given his own struggles with being warm, but he did it anyway. Draco just wanted an excuse to be near you. 

Your arms wrapped themselves around his waist, head resting on his chest. You felt calm listening to his heartbeat against your ear, beating steadily. He let his lips ghost over the skin of your forehead, not daring to actually touch you. They were warm, much to your surprise, and continued to almost touch you. His lips hovered over your skin, blowing soft breaths of nervousness. You could feel his heart starting to beat quicker, uncertainty taking over his body. Draco wanted to kiss you. More than anything. 

You waited for him to do something, hoping that you weren’t reading into signs that meant nothing to him. He waited for a sign, afraid of what you might do if he acted on his urges. He wanted to make sure you wanted him the same way. He placed his chin on top of your head, looking down at his hands holding onto you tightly. A flash of yellow caught his attention. You were thinking of him. 

Before he lost his confidence, he pulled you away from his body for a moment, cursing at the way he already missed your weight on him. Your exterior faltered, afraid that Draco changed his mind about you already. You looked down, ashamed that you would even think that Draco could reciprocate the feelings you harbored. He tilted your chin upwards, eyes nervously flickering between your eyes and your lips. Draco looked for signs of hesitation in your features, growing more confident when he saw none. He kept his fingers under your chin as he leaned in, heart almost bursting out of his chest. He was sure you could feel it against your body. 

He watched as you closed your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. Your lips were red, plump and he couldn’t wait to place his on top of yours. He darted out his tongue, licking his lips to dampen them. Draco followed suit, eyes closing, as he leaned closer and closer to you. 

When his lips finally met yours, his knees almost gave out on him when he heard your soft whimper at the contact. He was in love with all the sounds you made, so innocent and so lovely to him. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your chests were pushed against each other as his grip on your hips tightened even more. His lips worked against yours flawlessly. You smiled into the kiss, making him do the same. Airy giggles and mutters of adoration were exchanged in the moments that you two kissed. 

Once you pulled away, Draco connected your foreheads, smile still plastered on his face. His eyes were closed and he looked so happy. This, you thought, this is what I want to remember for the rest of my life. Draco looked like he was glowing, his happiness radiating off his skin. You intertwined your fingers, using your other hand to touch the new ring on his finger. He opened his eyes, watching your movements. 

“You are good.” You whispered to him, lips kissing the corner of his mouth. Then his cheek. Then his nose. Then his forehead. Finally, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, red and raw from the kiss you shared earlier. “You are not the choices forced upon you.”

-

A/N: just an fyi, there’s probably only 1-2 more happy chapters then it gets to heavy angst. beware. 

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