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#fleece this holiday season
jomiddlemarch · 2 years
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starlghtstarbrite · 2 years
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I love my wife so much. She apparently decided we needed to be festive in our nice new apartment this year and ordered throw pillows and kitchen towels. She is quite happy as to our new Halloween themed couch
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bevanne46 · 8 months
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Vendors of Sno Co Presents 🌺 Briar Rose Quilts🌺 at the Christmas Craft Fair in Marysville, WA!
*Ready-made Baby Quilts, Kid’s Quilts and Adult Lap Quilts.  
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Saturday, Oct 21, 2023
11:00 am to 4:00 pm
 
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10005 67th Ave
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Product Prices Vary
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Find the Event here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1951006568599877/?active_tab=discussion
See More Here: https://www.tedooo.com/shop/648a9e3da46f667bfb7621fd
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bettyfrommars · 7 months
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Santa Comes Once a Year
biker!eddie x fem!reader
I had a request from the amazing @idkidknemore for "biker Eddie dressed up as Santa, railing reader on his motorcycle sleigh" and I also wanted some Eddie as Santa action for the Holiday Prompt Party I am doing with @allthingsjoeq he is not a mall Santa in this, but still.
wc: 2.7k
18+ONLY, smut, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, talk of cheating (on Mrs. Claus), roleplay, creampie, fingering, bit of spanking, ton of cliche phrases, sexualizing Santa, secret sex I guess? but it's just pretend, semi-public sex if you squint.
summary: you go to the Lighted Farm Implement show for the first time with Robin and Oliver to see what Eddie and Steve have cooked up for the parade. Afterwards, Santa takes you back to his place in his towtruck sleigh and wants to give you some cream with your cookies.
author's note: This can absolutely be enjoyed as a smutty standalone, but some elements of I'm on Fire are mentioned, including Robin raising Steve's son Oliver with him since he was a baby, and the fact that biker Eddie runs his own towing/mechanic business.
This was your first time attending the night time Lighted Farm Implement parade in Hawkins, and you weren’t sure what that even meant until Robin explained it to you.
“You know, Farm Implements. They decorate them with Christmas lights and throw candy for the kids.”
For some reason, all you could picture were shovels and snippers dancing through the street like some magical Beauty and the Beast scene.
Robin’s cheeks were rosy and she had Oliver in her arms, a navy Columbia fleece zipped up to her chin.  Mother and son each had matching, fuzzy blue ear muffs on.  She noticed your confused expression as the three of you walked up the street from where you parked. 
“Tractors, backhoes, dumptrucks, cement mixers,” she gave a few examples and your face lit up in recognition.  “There will also be buses, a few 18-wheelers, and a tractor bed with the Mayor on it.”
The big, shiny black tow truck from Munson’s Garage was in the parade too, and you were curious to see what Eddie and the guys had done to it.  Your boyfriend had been asked to dress as one of the Santa’s that year, and you’d switched evenings at the Velvet Hammer with Jackie just so you could witness this miracle of the season, being that Eddie wasn’t a huge fan of Christmas. 
He mostly did it for Oliver, to see the wonder on his face when Santa knew his name, and that year specifically, he was doing it for you.  He wanted to impress you by being the star of the show.  
Everyone from town lined the streets and cheered as the Hawkins high school band trumpeted down the lane to officially begin the parade with cheerleaders punching pompoms in the air at the front. Robin put Oliver down and you all moved through the crowd to get closer to the action. .
 Behind the band was a green John Deere bulldozer all decked out in colorful bulbs and an arc of gingerbread people up the back.  The owner of the local grocer drove a 1945 Chevy truck with Christmas trees in the back and a person dressed like an elf in the passenger seat tossing out chocolate bars.  A few skidded close to Oliver and he lurched to grab them with an excited scream. 
Each vehicle had its own music playing, and the next yellow backhoe with a santa in the bucket and adorned with snowflake lights was blaring Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee.  They threw some lollipops out, and this time you rushed to snatch a few for Ollie so that he wouldn’t have to go too far out into the street.
You were distracted watching the mammoth equipment vehicle pass when you heard Oliver screech and point, “Daddy!”
Your head snapped and there was Eddie’s tow truck, blinking with what seemed like a billion white twinkle lights with a pine wreath on the grill, and a person hanging off the side of the truck dressed as…a goat? Or was it Father Time?
Oliver recognized Steve immediately, and when he spotted his son, he jumped down from the step up to the cab with a sack of candy in his hand and came jogging over.  As he got closer, you tried to make out his costume, but came up with nothing.  He was wearing his typical biker attire with his Coffin Kings leather cut on over a hooded sweatshirt and black jeans, but the faux beard he had on was long and thin down to his belly button, and it was gray, not white.  He wore sunglasses and a black fedora.
He ran to give Ollie the bag of candy while the tow truck rolled by at a snail pace.  
“Are you Biker Santa?” You asked, sneaking a look at the sexy Santa in a red hat behind the steering wheel of the tow who was waving to get your attention.  You blew Eddie a kiss and he made the gesture of catching it in the air.  
Steve held his arms out as he trotted backwards to get back on his ride.  “I’m one of the guys from ZZ Top!” He shouted, as if it should’ve been obvious.
You shared a look with Robin.  “Don’t ask,” she mumbled.  
They were towing a wrecked car behind them with what appeared to be four reindeer holding cans of beer, each hanging out a window.  The song Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer played cheekily from speakers that were mounted on the lift.  
All three of you cheered and screamed for the rest of the show, and by the time two clowns in tiny toy trucks brought up the rear, you felt a warm body press up against your backside and you tilted your head back into the squish of a white, fluffy beard.
“Ho ho ho,” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear making your body tingle from the warmth of his breath.  “I hear you’re the naughtiest girl in town.”
He stepped away and tapped Ollie on the shoulder, taking on a deep, jolly voice.  “And who is this good little boy?”
Oliver had the white stem of a sucker sticking out of his mouth when he turned.  “Oh hi Uncle Eddie,” he managed, sucking back purple saliva.
Eddie straightened to full height, his eyes falling on Robin with a blink of sadness, but she only shrugged.  “He’s getting wise to the world, what can I say?”
You turned to melt into your boyfriend’s chest, feeling the bit of padding he had on his belly under the soft faux fur accents of his red velvet coat.  There was a little jingle bell on the end of his Santa hat, and you flicked it with your finger.  You pushed him back through the crowd, off to the sidewalk and into the shadows, making him back up as you went.
“So,” you made sure no one was around before you slid your hand between his legs.  “Is this the official Yule Log, or are you just happy to see me?”
You could barely find his mouth under the synthetic mustache, and then you giggled and sputtered on a stiff Santa hair.  
He yanked the beard down with a tug of his fist, stretching the elastic band that held it in place,  so that it was under his chin and pulled you in again, returning your kiss so deep that a small groan escaped you.  
“You wanna get out of here?” he said in a rush, and then he nudged your nose with his.  “Come sit in my sleigh with me?”
Steve was reunited with his family by then, with Oliver up on his shoulders, and you checked to see the three of them head off in the opposite direction, possibly to Robin’s car.  You were all planning to meet back up at their place to make cookies in an hour, so you had a window of time.
Back in the cab of the  tow truck that was parked down the street, Eddie pulled the pillow stuffing out from under his coat and flipped the heat on high, but it almost wasn’t needed because the makeout session that ensued made the windows fog up.  You took his hat and beard off and tossed them on the dash so that you could finally have your hands around that face that you loved so much, squirming to get closer to him.  He had his hair tied up in the back and you released the band so that his locks fell around his shoulders.  
“If I’d known this would get you going baby, I would’ve put the beard on earlier,” he huffed.
You flicked your tongue out to tease him a few times.  “I need you inside of me, Santa.  No one will know, it will be our secret,” and you were just about to kick your leg over to straddle his lap when you both realized that there were people walking right next to the vehicle on the sidewalk.  
“Let’s get out of here, Mistress,” Eddie kissed your cheek.  “Take this back to the garage, finish what we started.”
You sat back, giving him a raised brow as he shifted the monster vehicle into gear.  “Oh, you think I’m just going to give it up when and wherever you want?”
“I think you’ll do whatever I tell you to do,” he said over his shoulder, watching for traffic before pulling into the street.  “I’m Santa.”
—-----
You sat right next to him the whole way there, like lovers do, with his hand on your thigh.  He still had the wrecked car with the beer-guzzling reindeer statues inside, so he was careful on the turns, while festive bystanders honked and waved.
At the Munson Garage compound, Eddie thought he would unhook the wrecked car from the crane, but there wasn’t time for that—he could feel your arousal dampening your jeans.  Parking in the furthest garage would have to do.  
“Get over here, naughty girl,” he licked his lips and opened his Santa jacket to reveal two black suspenders over a white t-shirt, and then he undid the suspenders to move his hand down to fist himself.
Your boots were off and your jeans at your knees when the sight of the tip of his glistening pink tip freed from his wholesome attire made you pause to touch yourself, putting your back against the opposite door with your legs spread so he could watch.
It was dim in the roomy cab of the truck, but Eddie could still see the wet spot on your red underwear where you worked your fingers and he bit out a curse.
“You heard me,” his tone was stern.  “I said get that beautiful ass over here and sit on Santa’s cock.”  
You didn’t bother taking your underwear off as you kicked your jeans away and scrambled over, giggling when he pushed his red pants down a bit more to show the mistletoe print on his boxers.  Your head hit the roof of the cab, but then you were finally squatting in his lap, teeth hitting as you fumbled into position.
He was quick to reach down between the two of you and move your panties to the side so that he could rub his knuckle up and down your slippery clit.
He puffed out a chest full of air.  “Goddamn was it the beard or the whole thing?”
“Just you,” you lifted up, pushing his hair back to cup your hands on either side of his throat.  “I’ve been aching for you all night, Santa. Waiting for you to come down my chimney.”
Eddie shivered, reaching to line his tip up with you. “Why is this so hot, holy shit,” he chuckled softly.
But then he was inside of you, and you sank down an inch with a cry, arousal dripping down his length.
His mouth pressed into the side of yours. “Did you miss me all year? You want to be a bad girl for me now?”
“That’s why you come to my house, isn’t it Santa?” You gasped.  “Because you want to fuck me? I’m your favorite.”
Eddie hissed and threw his head back as you bottomed out.  You could feel the faux fur from the top of his pants ticking your taint.  “You know I always come back for you, because you take me so good, fuck—-” 
You rocked your hips, squeezing that important muscle as you went.  “Better than Mrs. Claus?”
Eddie gripped your ass and pulled your cheeks apart with his strong, calloused fingers, thrusting up to meet  you, smacking against your wetness.  “Better than anyone, fuck.  I dream about this all year.  Landing my sleigh in Hawkins so I can bury myself in your tight, wet cunt.”
You were both breathing heavy, sweat trickling down your necks, while a few snow flurries danced into the garage. 
You reached a hand down to work two fingers at your clit.  Every word you said was against his lips:  “I want some cream with my cookies, please Santa.”
“Yeah?” Eddie huffed, rolling his hips in his seat so that you could feel every inch of his cock, making you whine a string of obscenities.  “What else do you want, huh? You want me to fill you up all night, so my cream drips out of you on Christmas day?”
He spanked your asscheek with a thwack and you arched back.  “Yes Santa, please, ruin me so I only fuck myself to thoughts of you.”
“I’m about to cum,” Eddie breathed, and your mouths met in a frenzy of tongues and moans. He could feel you throb around him.  
“So soon, Santa?” You teased.
“Shhhhh,” he took hold of your throat and planted his booted feet to thrust up into, taking you for a ride.  
You put your forehead to his and bounced a few more times, and then you froze, mouth open in a silent scream as the wave began to crash.
“That’s my baby,” he held you in that position and continued to buck up to bury himself inside over and over.  “Cum for Santa, let me feel it.”
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you exploded around him, whimpering and twitching. 
The back of your heel kicked up and accidentally flipped a switch on the dash, making all of the Christmas lights on the truck blaze on, and Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer blared from the speakers.  
You clung to Eddie while he came, shuddering at how good it felt but also
In a few seconds, you were both grinning, shoulders bobbing with laughter as the song seemed to herald in your mutual releases.
The windows of the cab were completely fogged up, and between that and the music, neither of you heard anyone enter the garage until there was a bang on the driver’s side door.  
“What the—?” Eddie scowled, and you were already scampering off of him, snatching clothing from the floorboard to cover yourself.
Eddie tucked himself back into the huge wet spot on his pants and wiped condensation off of the glass so that he could see who it was.  He was about to be angry, thinking it was one of the other mechanics about to give him shit or try to get a peek at you
but it was Steve.
The truck was lifted and the windows up too high for him to see in, but still Eddie checked to make sure you were decent before he rolled the window down.  He leaned over to switch off the lights and the music.  You gave a nod as you wrapped your coat around your waist.  
“Hey,” Eddie wiped some hair out of his face, trying to act casual.  “What up? Everything okay?”
Steve had his long beard in his hand, hugging himself, shivering against the cold, with the fedora pulled snug to his ears.  “Did you forget you were going to give me a ride?  I just walked halfway across town. Slipped and fell on the fucking ice twice.”
Eddie dropped his forehead to his fist.  “Shit sorry man I—-why didn’t you go with Robin?”
“Because I told her I was riding back with you to unhook the rig,” Steve sounded annoyed, teeth chattering, and you didn’t blame him, but still you stifled a giggle into your arm. 
“Tried to call Astrid from a payphone, and she’s not answering, so now I’ve got blisters from these stupid elf boots that Robbie made me buy.”
Eddie pulled his lips in over his teeth to contain his amusement.
“It’s not funny, dude,” Steve said, but then he caught a glimpse of you in the cab and you gave an apologetic grimace.  “Oh okay, I get it. Forgiven. But can we get this shit over with so we can get out of here? Robin doesn’t know how to work an oven and she’ll probably burn the place down before we get there.”
Eddie stretched across the cab to kiss you.  “Stay in here, keep warm.  I’ll put the Chevelle around when we’re done.”
“Go help your ZZ Top elf, Kris Kringle,” you shoved him playfully, but then he held his face there and hummed until you kissed him again.
You pulled your jeans up, eager to keep Santa’s gift from spilling out.  
---------
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veryberryjelly · 7 months
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chamonix
pairing : dick grayson x reader
prompt : christmas shopping
𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲
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with a lot of family and friends, christmas shopping could be one of the most hectic and chaotic things ever.
especially when the only day you were free to do it was a saturday.
when the world decided to crowd shopping malls and walk slowly to infuriate people.
but your trip so far hadn't been too stressful, until you were forced to separate from dick to buy his gift and for him to go and buy yours.
you had made the plan before you even left the house to buy family and friends gifts together, get lunch and then separate and that was exactly what you had done, and it was how you ended up walking through the mall in utter turmoil, unsure of what to get the most important person in your life.
you would think after being together for two and a half years that you wouldn't struggle every time you had to get him a gift but you did.
every time.
3 birthdays and 2 holiday seasons and every time you struggled.
you had been trying your best to think of anything you could get him that he would actually like, because you knew you could give him a sweater or something and he would say he liked it because it was you.
but you wanted to actually give him something he could like without including sympathy in the decision.
and because dick always got you an incredibly thoughtful gift you wanted to get him something just as thoughtful and that he would like just as much as you liked the things he had given you.
after 30 minutes of struggling you finally picked something out for him, setting it under the other things you had bought so he couldn't get a look at it through the top of the bag.
---
you had been nervous about the gift you had gotten dick since you bought it, but now that you were finally going to give it to him, you were even more nervous about it.
you two had made a lot of plans for christmas day.
you were going to spend the morning with each other and then head to the tower for lunch with everyone else.
after waking up and making coffee & tea, you settled comfortably on your couch with each others gifts set on the coffee table.
dick presented you with a box which you unwrapped to find three baking books you had had your eye on for a while, two of which were signed by the author which you thought was amazing.
you were already making plans to bake tomorrow morning, if not to thank dick with it, then to show your appreciation for the books.
you held on tightly to the hardbacks when dick started pulling his gift from the bag.
at the mall you had only bought him a thermal fleece sweater, but at the bottom of the bag was his actual gift.
" what is this ?" he asked, more stunned than confused.
" that is two tickets for 6 days at a cabin in Chamonix. thought i could finally teach you how to ski " you explained, a nervous smile on your lips.
you hoped he liked it but there was always the possibility he would hate it.
he didnt say anything, instead quietly moved your books from your lap as to not damage them and leapt onto you, causing you to laugh as he pushed you back against the couch.
his face buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered kisses onto your bare skin.
" i love it, thank you... you didnt have to do this, baby " he said, pulling back from your neck to look at you.
" this isn't only for you. i'm coming too, and i get to embarrass you with all of the photos "
----------
@jambo-rat
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last christmas, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: Last Christmas, she gave you her heart, wrapped up with a note saying, I love you. She meant it. This Christmas, you give her back the stuff she left at your place and run into her next-door neighbor that knew all about your love. Somehow, you end up explaining why it went wrong.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of previous w/w relationship; pansexual reader; mentions of bad parents and discrimination / prejudice; reader def needs a therapist and Jeon Jungkook is not a therapist; JK is also reader's ex-gf's next-door neighbor; pining; awk tension; I cannot shut up about JK's big peepers; smut (fem reader, a lot of making out [both lips and bodies], light scratching, so much grinding, cowgirl); motorcycle-owning!JK takes you on a ride, whee
inspired by Wham!'s 'Last Christmas'; you are the shitty ex, don't read this unless you're okay with that and, yes, some decisions are made
--
You handed the bag over.
“This is it.”
“T… Thanks.”
The cold stung your cheeks. Around your neck was a dark green and black plaid scarf, thick layers shielding your heart that was exposed to the winter thanks to your open parka. Your hands returned to their tucked position in your fleece-lined pockets. You smiled, ever so slightly.
“You look pretty. The short hair suits your face well.”
She reached up to touch the tips of the chin-length bob, wispy front bangs framing her gentle eyes, not quite looking at you. You noticed her short nails were painted a light shimmery gold, suiting the holiday season. Her lips pursed and she breathed in deeply, looking straight into your eyes.
“Don’t say stuff like that. We’re not together anymore,” she said decisively.
“Ah… right.”
You left the smile on your face.
Right, because you could no longer compliment a person after dating them and then breaking up with them. Rules of some code apparently you didn’t get the memo for. The breeze whipped around your body, chilling moments as you stood at the doorstep of your former lover, feeling a strange kind of satisfaction seeing in her shiver in her fuzzy cream sweater and fleece pajama pants, complete with ivory fur slippers. But those thoughts were cruel to think and so was the bitterness.
She glanced at you.
You felt bad, seeing the glisten in her eyes.
In a box labelled donations in your apartment, there was a knit scarf, checkered peach and cream, the note included long gone, probably in a trashcan. Last Christmas, that scarf had been in silvery wrapping paper with a white silk ribbon, the package shaking in her hands and accompanied by a nervous smile, handed over for you to open, seeing the note first and then the handmade gift.
I love you above the handiwork of love.
It wasn’t the very next day, but you were still giving it away.
“I hope you have a nice holiday,” you said, bowing lightly.
“A-Ah, yeah,” she stuttered, clutching the brown bag of the few sweaters and joggers she had left at your apartment, all laundered and folded neatly the way she usually folded them. You had remembered, and this would be the last time you needed to remember how to delicately tuck sweaters into themselves like cake rolls. “I’m going to see my mom and dad. You should…” And she trailed off, knowing full well you weren’t going to see your parents. “You should eat something nice.”
You nodded.
Smile.
“I will. Take care.”
You took a step back and bowed again, taking your graceful exit from the front porch of that apartment that you would never walk into again.
You headed for the stairs, being careful when it came to the snow-slicked stone steps. Good thing your black boots had sturdy, thick treads. You reached back and pulled the hood of your parka up, fleece blanketing your head and ears, instantly warming your cold hair. It was already getting dark. You barely saw the sun these days, with work and all. There was something nice about the winter evening though, not as thick as the humid summer nights. Crisp and chilly, sure, but maybe you could argue that was all you were anyway.
Shit, holding a pity party for yourself? That’s rich.
The voice was inner self-loathing was nice and loud tonight, huh.
You heard your name being called from the garage at the bottom of the stairs. You looked up to see a familiar resident of these apartments.
Your ex-girlfriend’s next-door neighbor, in fact.
“Jeon Jungkook?”
He smiled and waved, jogging over, something large and round under his arm. Black leather jacket, his gloves matching his jacket. Black jeans. Heavy-duty boots. You took a couple steps towards him, and then you spied the parked motorcycle, and finally recognizing that it was a motorcycle helmet he was holding. The sweater underneath with the somewhat tacky, bright red-and-white candy cane print didn’t quite match the rest of his ensemble.
He looked down when he realized you were staring at his chest and laughed. “Ah, yeah, I came back from a work party. Christmas lunch before we go on break. Theme was ugly sweaters.”
You blinked. “You could have tried harder.”
He grinned. “Yeah, my co-worker Jimin said that too, but I told him he was ugly enough for us both.”
You shook your head with a sheepish smile as the young man looked way too proud of himself burning someone who wasn’t even here to defend themselves. Well, supposedly he burned them publicly already. Poor Jimin. You had never met this Park Jimin Jungkook occasionally talked about, but they seemed to have a brotherly friendship, complete with Jungkook providing shithead younger brother quips.
“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Jungkook said, tilting his head.
Oh. Right.
You pointed up and prepared yourself to say it again and again until everyone knew.
“We broke up.”
“Oh…” His expression fell, big round brown eyes and the downturn of his lips. Man, Jeon Jungkook looking sad was not something you realized you needed to brace yourself for until now. It almost made you sad seeing his expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. I liked watching movies with you two, since you like Marvel stuff.”
You chuckled. “I’m not banned from going to the theater. I can still go to opening nights with you, if you want.”
He scratched his cheek, nodding slowly. “She wouldn’t feel weird seeing you with me?” he asked.
Oh.
Right.
If it was only you and Jeon Jungkook going to the movies, then, of course, people would think certain things.
You answered him honestly.
“I don’t know.”
You didn’t need to give answers, but Jungkook was your ex’s next-door neighbor and you had made friends with the guy before she did. Would be odd, considering she had proximity on her side, but, as it turns out, she was the lesbian and you were the pansexual. She had other priorities than the man living next door. He was not that interesting to her.
You shrugged. “I don’t know how she would feel, but what’s done is done and life goes on.”
Jungkook blinked at you.
You puffed out your left cheek and then exhaled heavily. “As you can expect from my reaction, it was me who broke up with her.” You clicked your tongue. “It wasn’t her. It was me. I have issues when women try to take care of me, even if they only have good intentions.” You reached up and pushed your parka hood back, letting the cold wind pierce your skin again, eager to feel something else. “Doesn’t really happen to me when it’s men, but women? Hah... I tried to tell myself that that wasn’t it, but facts are facts. In the end, I didn’t like her anymore and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.”
Sounded awful coming out of your mouth.
Truth was ugly.
“I thought I would feel like shit not being with her during Christmas, but actually I feel worse because I’m actually glad I’m out.”
You glanced at Jungkook, whose was staring at you with those big brown eyes. For his part, he simply accepted when you introduced his neighbor as your girlfriend back then. Didn’t pry much. It had come up in conversation about representation in movies, and you both clarified your sexualities. Jungkook’s reaction was, oh, cool. But, of course, you hadn’t specified about the differences of various romantic relationships for you personally, until now.
You winced. “Sorry. Kinda dumped all that on you.”
He shook his head quickly, his long black hair flying about like floppy puppy ears. “No, no. It’s okay. Have you talked to anyone about the breakup?” He held up his free hand, pulling it back a little. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. It’s just… I mean, I knew you two a little bit, so… I can listen, if you wanna say stuff.”
You opened your mouth, ready to say, yeah, I’ve talked about it, but then you realized, no, you haven’t talked to anyone about the breakup. You didn’t really have friends outside of the ones related to your previous relationship, and, well, he was standing right here. You certainly weren’t going to tell your parents about dating, least of all dating outside of the heteronormative. They already didn’t like you for various reasons and being anything but heterosexual was probably going to lead to full-on pitchforks and chasing. Not your idea of a fun Christmas, you had to admit.
Mostly because you were the one that had to do the outrunning.
Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, screwing up his face. “Uh, well, a friend much smarter than me told me once that good and bad is relative to who you’re talking to and that most of the time no one is good or bad because there are too many ways to judge.” As he spoke, his eyebrows became more knitted together in increasing confusion of unsure recollection. “Um. Something like that.”
You half-smiled. “Hm, ever considered becoming a therapist?”
Jungkook frowned, looking displeased. “Sounds complicated.”
You laughed. “Don’t worry. You would totally suck at it.”
He harrumphed. “Anyway,” he concluded gruffly, chopping the air, his Busan accent coming out with the flourishment. “I’m saying you don’t have to be sad or feel anything in particular.”
You nodded.
Awkward silence.
Jungkook suddenly perked up and pointed to his bike behind him. “Oh! Did I tell you? I got my motorcycle license over a month ago.”
No, he didn’t tell you, because at the point you had already broken up with your now-ex and stopped coming to this apartment complex. But you glossed over that detail and shook you head, cocking your chin to the metal monster. “Yours?”
He grinned, bouncing like the Energizer bunny. “Yup! Mine! I bought it as soon as I got my license. I always wanted one. Want a ride? I have an extra helmet upstairs.” He pointed up excitedly. “It’ll only take me a second to grab it.”
He knew you didn’t drive here and usually walked here from the train station because it was easier. You looked at the silver and black motorcycle and then back at him, seeing the bubbling eagerness and childlike joy in those sparkly big peepers. What the hell.
“Sure.”
He grinned.
You always liked Jungkook because he had such an expressive face.
He hurried past you and reached out to nudge your arm towards to the stairs. You stood steadfast, your head following his face as you saw his changing expression.
Time slowed.
So did Jungkook, stopping, standing beside you, his motorcycle helmet and arm in between your bodies.
You looked up at him.
Eyes connected.
Your hands lifted and you took his motorcycle helmet from him, ticking your head upstairs.
“I shouldn’t go back up there,” you softly said.
For a moment, he didn’t understand. You knew what he intended, you to follow him up to help carry the extra helmet so he had a hand free to lock the door again. But he hadn’t quite thought about why you were here in the first place, days away from Christmas, after months of not seeing you, and now the comprehension was creeping into his eyes, the wheels of his brain moving in real time right in front of you. You nodded slowly as his lips formed a small ‘o’ accompanied by quick, sharp nods as he bounded up the stone steps two at a time.
“I’ll be fast!”
“Don’t break a leg,” you scolded, rolling your eyes as he completely ignored you, but he held onto the railing, so at least he wouldn’t tumble down and squash you if he tripped.
That left you standing there in relative silence, holding Jeon Jungkook’s helmet and staring at his fairly new motorcycle, only a couple floors underneath your ex-girlfriend who you recently gave back all her things that she had left in your home, the only trace of her now being your memories that would fade in time.
You felt a bit weird, not minding too much about it.
Also felt a bit weird realizing in a few minutes you would be holding onto her next-door neighbor’s waist, your chest to his broad back.
I’m an asshole.
You sighed, remembering the apprehension you had felt embarking on this relationship. Maybe you should have listened to it, but, then again, hard to say. No one wants to believe they have issues. Also, she was quite cute and convincing at the time. Unlike in past relationships, she was already secure and didn’t make you feel ashamed about not being strictly lesbian or heterosexual. It made you think that this was right, this was how it should be, and then it started getting a little too serious.
You kept thinking, I’ll get over it.
You did not get over it.
Then you realized what you really meant was, I must get over it to prove that my shitty upbringing didn’t affect me but all I’m doing is pretending that I’m over it when I’m not.
Yeah, well.
You ended up breaking up with a nice, pretty girl that you weren’t really in love with. She had just made you feel secure because she actually accepted your sexuality, which was awesome but not enough.
So, why did you feel like a complete and total jerk, like you wasted her time, as if you weren’t worthy of it?
Don’t know.
You stared at the motorcycle in front of you.
He must feel free when riding it.
“I got the helmet!”
You didn’t even turn around when you heard Jungkook’s announcement. You were too busy transitioning out of your reflections. “Don’t you know motorcycle accidents are much more likely than car accidents?”
Jungkook popped into view, holding out the other helmet in his hands. You exchanged the one you were carrying with his, and he shrugged. “Everybody dies.”
“Morbid.”
“At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid,” he pointed out, revealing a bit of his inked skin under his leather sleeve. “Same reason I got tattoos.”
“Bet your mom loves that.”
“My mom just has to love my personality,” he laughed. “And I got defiance from her, so she’s doomed.”
You shook you head with a smile. Jungkook showed you how to put the helmet on.
“Just stay safe.”
“Don’t you mean drive safe?”
“It’s not just you on the road, dude.”
Suddenly, his hands stopped moving after you put it on. Now you were staring at Jungkook through the opening, about to close the visor, but then those brown orbs found yours. There was a strange intangible ripple between you and him. He tilted his head.
“Why are you talking as if you’re not here about to get on the bike with me?”
Everybody dies.
You pointed to the helmet. It felt heavy and odd. You were unaccustomed to the tightness. It smelled clean though. “I am. Why else would I put this thing on?”
Maybe I’m already dead because I don’t feel bad about what I did.
You wondered if you should feel bad, even though you did the right thing, even though you knew there were no real villains and heroes in this situation, even though you knew you both were only people that chose how to live their lives. How were you supposed to know if you were dragging things on or running away? The only thing you knew was that she deserved someone who really loved her as much as she loved you. It wasn’t her fault you didn’t. You just had to be honest about it.
Right?
Jungkook nodded and stuck on his helmet, fitting it snugly and climbed onto the motorcycle, unlocking it as signaling you to get on behind him.
“Hold onto me here. Set your feet there. Yeah.”
He was warm and solid and present.
He even smelled nice.
You didn’t think about it too much. What was there to think about? Life was complicated. You could spend countless hours analyzing why you made certain decisions, if they were wrong or right and in which eyes that mattered, and then all those thoughts blew away when the mechanical monster underneath you roared to life, loud and vicious and pure power wielded with skillful hands, and you held on tighter to Jungkook, startled by the sound, yet not scared for some reason.
Just fascinated as Jungkook pulled out of his parking spot and zoomed out of the garage, onto the road.
It was fuckin’ cold.
Layers of green-and-black plaid between Jungkook’s back and your sweater, shielding your racing heart, wind and speed and thrill shooting throughout your veins, the winter night flashing past, blurring streetlamps and stoplights, forgetting the cold, your hands tucked inside Jungkook’s jacket, fingers fanning over his waist and ribcage, feeling his muscles under the tacky sweater.
You closed your eyes.
At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid.
You used to think about riding a motorcycle when you were in middle school, although you had been looking at those smaller, zippy Japanese models, not a Harley-Davidson. You always assumed only loud obnoxious Americans rode that kind of stuff.
What?
Movies didn’t help.
Unfair stereotypes aside, it had been only a passing thought for you. One among many rebellious teenage desires. Cringe. That was hard to admit. But apparently for Jungkook it was a dream that he had turned into a reality and, while someone could view it in whatever negative light they wished, you saw it as walking the walk. You could respect that.
You leaned against him.
Felt the cold but there was something hot under layers of green-and-black plaid.
This is what joyride means, huh?
You were slowing down. Opened your eyes and saw Jungkook turning, seeing a parking lot and, across that, a field of white covered in a walkway of colorful lights. Oh. That was right. The park over here had put up this light display called Festival of Lights, where local artists had created wire sculptures covered in Christmas string lights which were displayed along a walkable path.
You went her last year, holding her hand.
You got off and took off your helmet, entranced by the bright twinkling displays, barely making out a gingerbread man doing a handstand.
“Wanna walk?”
You glanced at Jungkook. “What about this? Should I carry it?”
He laughed, waving to the sudden open top-box behind the seat. “Put it in here.”
You handed the helmet to him and watched in fascination. “Oh. I didn’t know there was a space to put stuff.”
He grinned. “Come on, let’s go.”
You following his bouncing jog with a loose stride, closing your fingers into your palm and remembering the feeling of his solid body in your hands only moments before. Furrowed your brows and shook your head, approaching the entrance, seeing a family several meters ahead, tired parents with a couple of loud kids pointing excitedly at a lit-up snowman holding six candy canes like Wolverine claws.
“Have you been here this year yet?”
“Ah, no,” you absentmindedly replied, seeing Santa and his reindeer. Classic, and well-done. “Haven’t had the time.”
“There’s one at the end I think you’ll like,” Jungkook was saying excitedly. “But I think the food vendors went home already. There was a hotteok truck and another one that sold roasted sweet potatoes, mmm, but maybe you can come back some other time.”
“Uh huh.���
You knocked into Jungkook’s back and bounced, vigorously shaking your head. “Ow.”
“Sorry, there’s ice. Careful.”
“Oh.”
You realized Jungkook was looking at you and you let go of his arm, not even realizing you had grabbed it out of instinct so you didn’t trip. A weird moment of muteness. You looked past him to see three chipmunks flashing in red, blue, and green scarves.
You looked up at Jungkook, who had followed your eye line to the three cuties.
“Jungkook.”
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you ask your neighbor why I wasn’t coming over anymore?”
Those brown eyes looked away from the twinkling artificial stars to your eyes. There was a little bit a guilt. They shifted away and came back and you realized Jungkook didn’t know how to lie but he also wasn’t sure if he was about to be out of line either.
“I… I heard her crying. A lot. And it’s none of my business,” he mumbled, frowning. “My mom told me not to be nosy,” he added under his breath.
You almost snorted. “You told your mom that you were worried about the lesbian couple next door?”
Jungkook squinted at you, annoyed. “No, I told my mom that I was worried that my friend might have broken up, so I asked her if I should do anything. Something nice?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed weird especially when Black Panther: Wakanda Forever came out, and I was going to ask if you, I mean, you both were going to the midnight release but…”
The kids were yelling in the distance and you didn’t even hear them.
You were just staring at Jungkook and noticing that his ears were turning bright red.
All the adrenaline from the speed and, now, everything slammed on the brakes.
“I didn’t cry.”
He blinked slowly. “What?”
You breathed out, looking around you, at snow and lights and white, and then at Jungkook, wearing all black and that candy-cane sweater, at yourself and your dark monochrome outfit, and then you admitted it again. “I didn’t cry, and I feel kinda shitty for it.”
“Oh.”
You stepped past Jungkook and walked down the carved-out path, following footprints and hard work. He followed and you acknowledged him, looking from one festive decoration to another, admiring the creations and spinning through the inner workings of your mind. “I felt frustrated. I know sexual attraction and romantic relationships are two different things, but I wanted to believe they weren’t. I wanted to believe that enough time had passed and I was okay, but I wasn’t okay and maybe I’ll never be okay, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”
You glanced up.
Jungkook looked confused and thoughtful at the same time. “I think you said before you don’t talk to your parents?”
“Yeah. They’re assholes.”
“Oh.”
That wasn’t very descriptive so you gave a brief explanation. “They looked at me like a product they made. A child was an object that they could program to do things they weren’t able to do, like make lots of money, marry rich, and in general sacrifice all my autotomy for their every beck and call.” You shrugged. “A dog would have more grace than their child.”
“Ouch.”
“Also, they would not understand that I’m pansexual. I think I’d be shot on the spot.”
“Don’t talk to them,” he puffed heatedly.
“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “And, yeah, I’m sure that kind of upbringing affected my romantic relationships.” And lots of other things, but that wasn’t the point right now.
“Everybody goes through stuff like that.”
You looked at him.
Jungkook shrugged. “My last girlfriend said all I care about is myself and there’s a reason why all my friends are older than me and called me irresponsible, selfish, and childish.”
“Are you?”
He frowned. “I don’t think so? I do the dishes and always fold my laundry.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Only fold?”
“Okay, sometimes I leave it on the table for a little while,” he grumbled.
You chuckled. “How long ago was this?”
“Um, couple years ago? Maybe five?”
“You were barely an adult,” you commented, seeing a face-down figure with white hair in a bun and something that looked suspiciously like deer tracks on the back of that red coat. Uh. You decided not to comment and move on. “Still learning.”
“Learning to be a dick, she’d probably say now. She would tell me not to get a bike for sure.”
“Thought the whole point she was dating you was because you had a dick.”
Jungkook laughed, loud and vibrant, the lights making his cheeks glow. “Well, she’s married now so I guess she found a better one.”
“Or settled.”
“Damn, you would think you were the one who dated her,” he snickered. You could tell he was enjoying this though, those brown orbs sparkling a little too bright. There was a little bit of a jealous streak in him, you could sense. “I think I was dating the wrong kind of girl though. I think I have to date someone who shares my interests more. I like being with the person I like all the time. I don’t want them to be sick of me.”
“Mmm. I can see that. Pretty childish of you.”
“Hey!”
You laughed, nudging his side. “As long as you know you are the problem.”
He narrowed his eyes.
You grinned. “I didn’t say you weren’t a fun problem to have.”
Jungkook leaned closer, squinting harder.
You grinned wider.
Then you realized he was so close and he realized he was so close, both of you backing up at the same time. A little too fast, simultaneously darting your hands out and grabbing each other’s forearms, you grasping his right with your left hand and his right hand on your left sleeve, squeezing hard, immediately regaining balance.
You let go.
He let go.
Speed under a green-black plaid scarf, something hot and moving fast under all those layers.
“Sorry.”
“Ah, no, my fault. Sorry.”
You jerked your head towards the light displays and started walking again, trying to move past this sudden weirdness. You pointed out the various ones you liked. Yellow pill-shaped Minions decorating a Christmas tree. A curtain of lights programmed to look like falling snowflakes. Penguins sliding down a light-up hill. Slowing down. Breathing. You glanced at Jungkook.
He looked somewhat ashamed.
“Hey.”
He tilted his head, inquiring with his big eyes and pink nose. “Hm?”
“I’m glad you took me here. I don’t think I’ve done anything festive this year.”
“O… Oh.” He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it might be cool. Cheer you up a bit.”
“Yeah. It’s funny. A lot of people think I don’t like this season.”
You saw Jungkook rub his nose, realizing it was cold. “Huh? Why?” he asked nasally.
You glanced down at your dark color palette. “Well, you know me, I like Halloween most, but I actually enjoy Christmas quite a lot. Not because I have any particularly nice memories around it,” you mused. “Ah, I mean when I was a kid. But, I don’t know, maybe that made me appreciate the spirit of the holiday time more than all the capitalistic stuff surrounding it, since I didn’t participate much in that.”
Jungkook blinked, puzzled. “You didn’t get gifts?”
You thought about it. “Hmm, not until I was an adult and only when I was dating someone who gave gifts.”
He pursed his lips and then reached out, taking your elbow and pulling your along, to the corner.
“Come on. This can be your gift.”
You stumbled behind him, craning your head in confusion. “Huh?”
“Did you watch Wakanda Forever?”
“Of course, I did. You know Black Panther is my favorite.”
“Then, look.”
Your eyes widened as the bright display of Black Panther, black lights complete with the purple highlights and signature action pose loomed among the other creations, slightly out of place because it wasn’t holiday-themed or even remotely Korean, but apparently none of that mattered and it didn’t matter to you as you admired the craftsmanship of the wire structure underneath, obvious it was specifically Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa from the violet details.
“Oh, shit. That’s sick,” you breathed, staring at the display for far too long and probably burning it into your eyeballs.
“I knew you’d like it right away.”
“That’s so random that it’s here.”
“I mean it’s not Christmas, but the movie did come out a month ago, so I guess they made an exception ‘cause it was so cool.”
“I mean this feels like Christmas to me. Put a Santa hat on him and call it a day.”
Jungkook laughed. “Okay, I’ll sneak one on in the night.”
You whipped your head to him, wiggling your eyebrows. “I mean…”
“It turns off automatically at midnight to save power…” he trailed off, putting on a scheming face.
“Would you go to jail for that? Is a Santa hat vandalism?”
“I didn’t commit a crime if I don’t get caught,” he countered.
You gave him a look. “Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”
Jungkook scrunched up his face.
“Naughty or nice depends on who’s asking.”
He stuck his little pink tongue out.
You poked the tongue tip sticking out of his lips.
Instant wet warmth on your index finger. Jungkook jumped, startled at your quick action and even you snapped back, surprised at yourself. Why had you done that? A wave of fluster, and you froze, hand hovering in the air, and Jungkook rapidly blinking, cheeks turning bright red. Silence. Couldn’t even say sorry, too stunned at your action to try to double back to apologies. Big brown eyes framed with windswept black locks, something unsaid hanging between you and Jeon Jungkook.
A casual friendship.
Kept at a fixed distance for… reasons.
Well, it had been.
Nobody was stupid, but time and place meant something.
Fast lane, not feeling the cold, racing pulse, lowering your hand, and you could feel it. You knew it was there, but time and place and all those other things.
“Sorry,” you finally said.
Jungkook’s eyes started darting in all directions. “It… It’s okay.”
“It’s kind of not. No one should be touching other people’s tongues without permission,” you pointed out.
He wasn’t really looking at you. “It’s okay… I forgive you.”
“Stop pretending I’m not a bundle of walking problems.”
Now those brown orbs finally scooting back to you.
There was no getting around that.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not a fun problem to have,” Jungkook mumbled softly.
Yeah, especially not after this irresponsible, selfish, childish guy said something like that.
There was a lot of shit you could say, but none of it seemed right. They sounded like excuses, or lame roundabouts, or too much too fast, like getting a whole sleeve of heavily-inked tattoos in a little under two years and a bigass motorbike after passing your motorcycle license exam. They sounded like feebleness in what was pretty clear, and you didn’t believe in saying something that wasn’t the truth.
“Um...”
Jungkook continued staring at you like a lost reindeer even though his nose was quite red.
You decided it was best to give a response. “Yeah?”
“You… You’re not doing anything on Christmas?” he asked.
“Ah, no. Nope, I just get a day off work.”
An extended silence.
You verbally approached very carefully. “You wanna… uh… hang out at my place?”
“Oh…” Man, this conversation sure was something. “I can bring some food and stuff. I can cook.”
“Me too.”
“You… like pork belly, right?”
“Yeah. It’s my favorite.”
Good fuckin’ gracious.
You couldn’t stand it anymore and exasperatedly put your head in your hand. “Just…” You saw Jungkook peering at you, looking worried. You put your hand down, resolving yourself quite quickly. “Okay. Give me your number. I’ll text you the address.” You didn’t think about it too much. Just yanked your phone out of your inner pocket and furiously typed down the numbers that came out of Jungkook’s mouth, your frozen fingers needing to press more than once, but you eventually got there.
After you pressed send, you immediately jerked your head up and looked at those big brown eyes very seriously.
“I… We… What happens, happens,” you finally said.
Jungkook nodded determinedly. “Yeah.”
It was pretty obvious what was going to happen but, then again, there were children around.
Last Christmas you received a gift with a note that said I love you.
This year, you would receive…?
-
“You think Die Hard is a Christmas film?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Sure?”
The actual movie didn’t really matter. Mostly because you fell asleep on top of him and woke up to a black television screen, wrapped in a fuzzy red velvet blanket, and Jeon Jungkook staring at you in the darkness. You blinked slowly. Could barely make out his face in the faint light of the open window, seeing the shape of his parted lips, the shine of his large eyes, the waves of black hair that cradled his cheeks.
You had animated conversation over dinner, funny stories of Jungkook’s friends and viral videos you had both seen on the internet, so natural it was almost frightening, complete with weird tense moments of silence that you or he pushed along, resolute, knowing how you got here, and yet.
Chills all over despite the warmth under the blanket.
He was not wearing a tacky sweater now. Just a simple black and white plaid flannel and a white t-shirt under, paired with loose black pants. Oversized and cozy to go with your fleece red-and-black checkered long pajamas. He smelled the same as he did the other day. He didn’t bring anything with him but a large glass Tupperware of food and his motorcycle helmet, saying he forgot to leave it by his bike. His heavy black coat was hanging in the hall closet by the front door.
You stared at Jungkook, saying nothing.
Stayed close.
He leaned in.
You closed the distance.
You were pretty sure you had a soul of ice.
Then again, Jungkook had said earlier in the night that he had been told in his fortune that he had too much fire in him, so maybe it canceled out or something.
You wanted to say you had an entire, deep discussion of, is this a good idea, or perhaps even, what is courteous and respectful but also fulfills the personal desires of the very obvious between us, but there was only heavy making out and lip-locking and breathless gasps and your hands around his waist again, warm and solid and present, and you shuddered, breathing him in, pulling him close, pressing your body to his.
Jungkook didn’t waste time.
His hands were on your hips, his wispy moan trailing over your lips.
Oh no. You tried to resist the addictive sensation that demanded to be chased, your lower body rolling into his, feeling was what very real and very apparent, his shaking breath tickling your lower lip and chin, whine shimmering in his throat. He liked it. Pulled you closer, increasing the pressure, your clothed pussy practically riding his clothed dick.
You caught his moaning mouth and felt the electricity of his arousal enter your lungs, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling his head back, first lightly and then when he didn’t relent, harder, tearing a moan from his throat, loud and vicious and pure power of his vocal cords vibrating under your kisses, nipping at his neck and leaving small possessive marks that he encouraged with gasping, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, falling apart in your skillful hands, tracing the crown of his head, his ears, his jaw.
You ran your tongue over his collarbone and then softly trailed back with kisses.
“O-Oh, fuuuuck me…”
That was the idea, yeah.
He was unbuttoning your pajama shirt.
“Wha… Why are you wearing a bra?”
You guessed that was not supposed to sound whiny but then again Jungkook was pouting in frustration.
“I generally wear bras. You know, to hold my tits.”
He puffed his cheeks. “Don’t ladies usually not wear bras at home?”
“I imagine the situation might change if there was a hot man involved.”
An involuntarily shiver travelled all over Jungkook and the only reason you could feel it was because you were basically humping his dick.
“Also, we can’t talk much if you are distracted by my nipples,” you added.
You felt an agile hand creeping around to the back clasp. “What if I want to be distracted by your nipples…?” he trailed off experimentally, giving you a curious, mischievous look.
You raised your eyebrows.
“Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”
He tilted his head, sending dark strands over one eye and his cheek.
“Who’s asking?” he purred, his silvery voice low and deep.
Well, shit.
The man knew how to be sexy.
You raked your fingers through his thick black hair, feeling him tremble under you.
“Leader of the naughty list herself,” you breathed back, leaning in to kiss him again.
While it was true that Jungkook had not come with some last-minute wrapped trinket, he had brought a hard dick and abundant horniness, and that was a pretty good gift in your book. You showed him your boobs and those nipples he was so keen about – well, technically, he showed himself and audibly gasped when your bra tumbled off. You weren’t sure if he was acting or not, but that question was answered too, because he lifted you by the waist and ran his tongue over your cleavage and then started making out with your chest.
“Oh…!”
Your turn to be surprised and you clutched his head, gasping, pushing him to suck, and he didn’t need any more signs, circling his tongue around the hard nab and then his eyelids fluttered, moaning deep in his chest. Hot shivers at the feeling of his warm mouth and gentle insistence, your body pressing into him, matching his rhythm and sound, holding his free hand to your neglected breast while his other hand splayed over your lower back, strong and secure. Your thighs squeezed his waist, feeling his desire melt into yours.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know.
You just didn’t act on it and neither did Jungkook, other than the occasional puppy eyes because he was terrible at lying. He had made a conscious effort to stay securely in the friendzone out of respect. You had appreciated that, really. But then there was that chance meeting, and, even then, you knew he took you to the Festival of Lights just to cheer you up, not to put you in any complex or awkward situation, but, again, he was bad at lying and there was no getting around this very intense attraction between you and Jeon Jungkook.
Hence the current kissing down your stomach and you leaning back, slow cascading moan falling from your lips as you felt his dance around your bellybutton and he pulled down the waistband of your pajama pants, following your hip line.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…”
Your fingertips grazing the lines of his legs, nails applying dainty pressure that made him quiver under you, his breath hitching as you placed your hands on his thighs and pressed your fingers inward, lifting yourself back up. Leaning down to kiss him again, tasting traces of you on his lips. Slowly peelings his clothes off, tangling him in them just to see his eyebrows knit in frustration, so cute, but you didn’t say, not yet, and then your clothes were in a rumpled pile on the living room floor. You in your panties and him in his boxer briefs, and you straddled his waist, kissing him repeatedly, rubbing your chest into his, feeling him under you.
Hot.
Shivering.
Overwhelmed with sensation, rolling his hips and hard cock into your covered heat.
He liked the feeling of your fingernails running down his chest. You did it once, just to test, and he reached for your hands, pulling them back up, more, and you watched his body writhe and fall apart under your touch, his head tipping back and lifting up his torso to add more pressure, moan hiking when you scratched down his sides and kissed his chest, licking his nipples, traveling to his back, earning a stronger reaction and his fingers sinking into your ass, his erection throbbing in between your thighs that squeezed his tense hips.
“Fuck, oh, fuck…”
You could feel the dampness occurring, both from you and him.
“J… Jungkook…”
You couldn’t stop kissing him, continuously telling yourself last one, but that was ages ago, lips locked and drunk on foreplay, on his body and his sound, vibrant and carnal, a mix of cute and sexy that was practically illegal. Couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop whispering to him how nice he felt, how nice he tasted, careless, absorbed in the strength of his lust.
“C-Can I fuck you…? I brought condoms in my coat, j-just in case…”
“Naughty boy,” you scolded and didn’t mean it, and it was dangerous, so dangerous the way Jungkook desperately moaned as you placed your hand over his damp, pulsing hardness and rubbed him through his underwear, too dangerous with the way he looked at you and gasped, you wanna sit in this naughty boy’s lap?
Thankfully, that was the extent of that.
Also, you didn’t bother going all the way to the hall closet when you had plenty of condoms in your bedroom.
And, yeah, you sat in his lap.
”Oooh, wow, y-you feel soooo fucking good…“
Could have been either of you or both of you saying it. You wouldn’t remember if you thought about it later, because you were too busy rocking your hips and trying to find the correct rhythm again. It was easier than you thought, maybe because of Jungkook’s roaming hands on your thighs, hips, breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure across your torso that matched the satisfying fullness deep inside, and, right there, finding the correct depth and forcefulness, chasing it immediately, building the steady pace with the condom wrapper tumbling down your sheets and hitting your knee.
You snatched it and chucked the foil wrapper over the side of your bed.
“Oh!”
“Forget about it, fuck me, Jungkook, fuck me.”
He angled his hips up and you rode him, relentless pleasure and waves of need satisfied by thrusting, clenching around his thick, hard cock, losing yourself in the shocking bliss.
You closed your eyes.
Felt the heat, so intense it sent chills up and down your spine. Couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, hands on his chest, tense and vibrating under harsh smacks and craving more, your name in Jungkook’s breathless voice addicting. His sound, intoxicating. His body, telling, unable to lie and you could be nothing but be honest, so good, fuck, feels so fucking good, speeding in the fast lane and soaring from the feeling.
There was no doubt that Jungkook was someone special.
You looked down, just for a moment, catching those brown eyes, glassy and fucked-out and watching you like you were everything and more.
I need him.
The thought was so intense and raw that you felt something inside you snap, your breath cutting off, torrential crash and orgasm seizing you by the throat, throwing your head back, your hair sweeping your shoulders, and you came around him, jerking your hips to bury him deeper, oh, fuck, yeees, suspended in the blissful, powerful rush, feeling your liquid honey leak out and down, covering him with it, the scent of sex rising between your bodies.
Jungkook lifted his hips and your body by doing so, his hands strongly grasping your waist, moaning with you, thrusting hard and fast, fucking your through your orgasm and you immediately tumbled into another peak, back-to-back intensity, feverish pitch of your joined voices as he came too, rock-hard and twitching inside your pulsating tightness, holding both of you up by a miracle.
Or sheer lust.
Nice or naughty, right?
For a moment, mute, stunned silence at the shared feeling between you and him.
Sure, it was pretty damn obvious you were going to fuck.
You just didn’t expect it to feel this good and this right.
Down, down, down. Slow, serene, subliminal, the way he sank down and both your gazes left the ceiling, sinking into your sheets, your eyes and his eyes connecting, quiet but an entire conversation humming between your bodies.
“J… Jungkook.”
He was panting hard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, his long black hair a mess your pillows. “Y… Yeah?”
“It’s… It’s a bit late…”
Well, actually, you had no idea what time it was.
“Y-Yeah, it kinda is…” he breathed, caressing your hips with his fingertips, relentless energy under you, eyes so big and brown that you could drown in that comforting darkness.
“Can you just…”
A pause, racing hearts beating together.
“Stay?” you asked, tentative and unsure.
Jungkook squeezed your thigh, reassurance in his touch.
“I wanna stay,” he stated, nodding determinedly.
So, he stayed, the start of many Christmases to come.
--
masterpost
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A Star in the Sky | mingi x reader
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[a Christmas drabble]
Pairing: song mingi x reader
Genre: fluff
Word Count: 1147 words
a/n: a little Christmas gift from me to you for all the support and love I've received on my story Want you Back. <3 thank you for it all and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and New Year!
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While the snow fell gracefully and covered the city in a beautiful white fleece, you peered out your apartment’s window with a warm cup of hazelnut coffee in hand reminiscing about the past year. 
This was your first Christmas away from family. You moved to Seoul, South Korea for a marketing and public relations job at KQ entertainment, six months after ending a situationship that left you feeling drained and exhausted. Being in your 20s brought forth a fair amount of things to think about and consider. 
The societal expectation of being in a relationship and by extension, being married by now and starting a family weighed heavily on you. Coupled with having a few failed dating attempts, you sometimes wondered if something was wrong with you — were you unworthy of being loved or were you being too difficult with your standards? But just like a boomerang, you always circled back to the same conclusion: nothing is wrong with you, you are worthy and you weren’t difficult for having certain standards and expectations. If they could have expectations of you, then you could do the same.
So, feeling for a change of scenery and pace, you decided to apply for foreign jobs out of curiosity with no set expectations. And it seems fate was on your side, one day while checking your email, you received an offer from KQ Entertainment who generously offered and assisted in setting up everything for you, and you accepted in a heartbeat. As such, being away from family was the main downside of the holidays. There were at least three positives that comforted you through it. Firstly, your apartment which was handled by the company was homely, cozy and spacious. Secondly, your job paid extremely well and so, you were prepared to go all out decorating your apartment and making it feel like home. And thirdly, you had your new friend Mingi.
Now yes, he just so happened to be from Ateez and yes, either he was going to go back home for the holidays or be away on tour but that was okay. The two of you were friends and it felt comforting to know that he had your interest in mind since he articulated that you could message him at any point if you felt sad and alone, and he'd make you feel better.
Your plan was to spend the holiday with your co-worker, friend and neighbour who also worked at KQ. But you didn’t mind possibly contacting Mingi. He was cute, charming, soft and kind-hearted and you felt comfortable around him. 
Five weeks before Christmas, when you told Mingi your plan to decorate and go all out in your apartment and make it the most magical Christmas wonderland, you didn’t think much of it. Unbeknownst to you, a week later, exactly a month till Christmas, Mingi showed up at your place with a small Christmas tree and bags of decorations. 
"Let's decorate together!" He cheered.
That day, you spent the entire day decorating and adorning your living room with twinkling, glittering Christmas lights before settling for making a cheesy and creamy pasta dinner while watching some Christmas classics to get more into the Christmas mood.
"Do you miss home?" He asked.
"Yeah I do. But I'll be video calling to spend the morning together. How do you handle it?"
"I just do. As time goes on, I just remind myself that it won't always be like before. At some point, things shift but consideration goes a long way, so finding ways to keep in touch helps."
You liked Mingi, a lot more than you thought you would. You knew his job carried his life in a different trajectory from yours and you tried to remind yourself he may not necessarily be interested in pursuing a relationship especially given the difference in cultural values. Your friendship blossomed because he found you fun and sweet, making subtle jokes with your neighbour-friend at work while keeping to yourself most of the time. You were also very smart and creative, and he saw how talented you were when they were introduced to the marketing concepts for the next album done by yours truly.
You both started conversing more because of your similar interests in anime and fantasy books after he asked your neighbour about you, wanting to compliment your work. A casual friendship led to you becoming closer and you both were comfortable around each other enough to hang out at each other's spaces — him hanging out at yours more because you didn't want to intrude on his and his members' space.
 You opened up to him about the past year events and some of the intruding thoughts plaguing your mind. Mingi had a way with words and reassured you that you are the brightest star to shine in the night sky.
“Just like these lights,” he expressed, “You have a luminous glow and dazzling spark about you. You’re a shimmering star and the right person will see it. If they’re only interested because of what you could be for them, then they’re not the right person for you. It’s not about what you could be but rather who you already are — all the quirks whether good or bad, because that’s what makes you who you are — the unique, incandescent and sparkling star in the dark night sky.”
Little did you know, Mingi liked you too because he was mesmerised by the way you carried about yourself and how whimsical you were with life. Your personality drew him in and he didn't mind the slight language barrier (you were still getting better at Korean and him with English) or cultural differences. 
He liked you for who you are.
And that’s why sneaky Mingi brought in the mistletoe at the last second before leaving and kissed you under it. It had been a long time since you kissed someone and felt an electric rush. And it was a long time since having someone feel this way about you too.
 It all felt like a special Christmas gift from the Universe.
That your now boyfriend was no one else but Song Mingi. And while he couldn’t be with you on Christmas Day, he made sure to give you your present early and reminded you not to open it until Christmas. 
On Christmas morning, after a video call with your family, you opened it and was captivated. It was a simple, pretty petite star charm with a shiny centre coupled with a chain that could make it be worn as a necklace. Accompanying it was a Christmas card that said: Merry Christmas to my favourite star in the whole galaxy. :)”
So, as you stared out the window watching the snow fall, thinking about the past year, you gently touched your new necklace, smiling at how everything fell into place.
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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years
Text
First Christmas
Masterlist - Part 2 Here
Simon conquers his first real Christmas and gets a gift of his own.
"Merry Christmas, baby."
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Tags: Pure fluff/Soft Simon/Domestic Simon/Slight angst
Additional Note: Simon gets a unique surprise when he sees an old friend. "Looks like you got yourself a win, yeah L.t.?"
Throughout the years, Simon dreaded the holiday season and hoped he could at least stay in active status as he didn't have a family to return home to. To him, Christmas was just another day with a dinner that the Captain would usually plan, Price being the one who did so on his unit. But unlike Simon, Price had a family of his own to go home to for the holidays as well as Soap.
On top of everything else, this would trigger his depressive attitude all over again, leaving him to wander alone in his thoughts, wishing he had what everyone else in his unit did. A family.
That was the longest tour of his life. Christmas really hit him hard that year and he spent the holiday being on guard atop a cliff that hugged their headquarters.
Roughly a few years later, Simon hadn't had to pick up the mask for combat since being home, surprised that he didn't want to go back after adjusting to a healthy relationship. After talking to his brother-in-arms, Soap, he didn't feel as guilty when Soap didn't want to go back to the field either. The men still called each other by their nicknames and made time to reconnect while bringing along their partners for quality time together as they enjoyed their early retirement.
Simon sat in his at-home office, looking at the medals and certificates that you had framed nicely for him to be a reminder of his honorable duties. He fidgeted with the balaclava that had a bruised and tattered skull print on the front of it. The pad of his thumb traced over it as he knew he wore it a lot while deployed, but vowed to never have to put it on again unless it called for war.
His attention darted towards the closed door, his gaze breaking from the photos of him and his comrades in uniform, posing in front of the helicopter that carried them to many destinations, one with the K-9 that was on their unit, Kyle, they called him as the Marines on his unit at the time compared the K-9 soldier's bravery and heroism the same that reminded them of Chris Kyle - the American Sniper, and one of him, Soap, and Alejandro. Christ, he was such a cool guy.
The door opened slowly after a soft knock. He admired how you respected his office as it was a sacred place. You were ignorant of how he spent his time overseas, nor did you question him about it, but you were always there for him whenever he needed to. "Hey," You smiled at him, still in your pajamas.
He was too, sort of... He didn't have a designated set of pajamas, but he figured a black t-shirt, sweatpants, and thick socks did the job just fine.
As for you, however, you loved the festive prints that were put on the fleece bottoms as the four seasons brought out a happiness that Simon loved to see. He wished he had as much light in his eyes as you did.
He looked at you with a heavy gaze, wondering how the fuck he got so lucky, but he forced the negative thought from his mind as he constantly feared he would lose you.
You picked up on that gaze and tilted your head in concern, "You alright?"
He nodded, watching you walk into the office and close to the desk, looking down briefly at the balaclava that he had been fidgeting with, "I'm going to start on the turkey," You said to him, referring to the Christmas dinner you had planned. He was eager to see your family again as your father was the complete opposite of his own - he was a true family man - something Simon admired to be. "You want to come with me?"
"I'll be there in a few," He replied, his sharp eyes never leaving your features. "Just thinking."
"I understand. I'll be here if you need me." You nodded, presenting that comforting smile that he loved so much coming closer to him, feeling your warm lips press against his forehead.
After a few minutes, what really ended up to be twenty, Simon gathered the motivation to join you in the kitchen, stopping briefly to eavesdrop as he heard you on the phone with someone.
"Around seven is fine - sure, absolutely! He'll be astonished! - Okay, just text me when you're near!"
He watched as you set your phone on the counter before continuing to mix ingredients in a mixing bowl, unaware of his presence. He waited until your hands were off of the bowl before snaking his arms around you, knowing you were likely to jump every time he managed to sneak on you and he wasn't in the mood to have to help clean up a mess of flour and eggs off the floor.
Surprisingly, you didn't jump clean out of your skin this time. Instead, you just gasped at the sudden warmth of his torso against your back and his chin against your neck before placing a delicate kiss there. "Coming to help me bake cookies?" You smiled, leaning your head back on his shoulder.
"I thought you were cooking the turkey."
"Multitasking, babe, it's what we women do so well."
"That and running your mouth." He poked, watching you gasp.
"I guess you're right... for once."
"I know I'm always right, sweetheart," He chuckled, kissing your neck again before making his way to the wine cabinet, getting himself a glass, but offering you one first. "Want one?"
"No, thank you. I'll save it for later." You nodded.
---
Evening had fallen and the small gathering at the house was going according to plan, except for one thing. You began to grow nervous as Soap was supposed to be there by now and judging by the lack of texts, he hadn't shown any sign of being near. You forced yourself to hold your composure as you didn't want to give away the surprise, but you couldn't help but worry. Glancing at Simon, he sat at the dinner table with your father as they were all patiently waiting for the rest of the food to be ready. You, your aunt, and your sister were helping you prepare the food, always insisting for the men to banter on about their days. And the fact that they would always try to sneak a piece of hot food before it was even time to eat. Especially the deviled eggs -- you had to physically hide them every year.
And make two platters of them -- your father, uncle, and Simon didn't give them any mercy.
"I'll be right back." You told your sister as you exited the kitchen, trying not to look in a rush as you pat Simon's shoulder on your way past him, a comforting gesture you had always done for him. You made sure that Simon wasn't watching you as you checked your phone, seeing a relieving text from Soap that had come through not even a minute prior:
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Thank God, you thought as you walked towards the front door, making it look like you were changing into your slippers to keep any suspicion at bay. Thankfully, it worked.
Simon was hard to surprise, but you thanked your father for keeping him distracted.
You opened the door, smiling at Simon's brother-in-arms alongside his new wife. "Thank you so much for coming." You smiled, mumbling the words as you didn't want to ruin the surprise for Simon.
"Wouldn't miss this for the world, love," He nodded, greeting you with a warm hug. "He for-sure doesn't know I'm here, right?"
"Not yet, anyway. I was going to let you surprise him."
"Oh, I can surprise him." He smirked, his hand resting on the small of his wife's back as he guided her inside first. To your relief, the short hallway that led to the front door was enough to keep Soap in the shadows for a bit longer until it was time to surprise Simon. Truly, he didn't know what to say, but he knew he'd think of something.
He shrugged off his coat after helping his wife out of hers before shooting you a smug grin, nodding as if he were asking permission to make his presence known. You smiled as you let him take charge.
"Well, well, you really are quite the opposite." He said, referring to their last big battle together when he teased Simon about taking off his mask.
Simon turned around in his chair, truly stunned before standing to his feet, immediately stretching out his hand to grasp Soap's before the men embraced. "It's so good to see you, brother." Soap said, patting Simon's back.
"Where in the bloody hell have you been?" Simon asked in disbelief, stepping back to look him over, glad that he was still in one piece.
"Around," He shrugged. "I know we weren't in contact for a while, but I knew once she reached out to me, I had to come and visit and wouldn't miss it for the world."
Simon glanced at you with soft eyes.
"Well, I have a seat saved for you, sir." Simon said, repeating the same words Soap had said to him that night when he and Simon regrouped for a final agenda, although Simon was a bit hostile for the first half of it if he had to be honest.
Dinner wasn't quiet this time. All of the chairs were full, the food was hot, and the fireplace kept the house warm. It was nice to see Simon and Soap reunite, knowing he was comfortable around him as, aside from you, Soap had been alongside Simon the most, the men claiming their brotherhood with military status.
You were always one to get gifts for the ones you love, so it wasn't a surprise when you began handing a gift to Simon and your family, even Soap and his wife. It took a while for Simon to get used to gift-receiving, not knowing how to truly accept one due to lack of experience, but he was no stranger to giving gifts. In fact, he loved to shower you with them, going overboard sometimes as he sometimes felt he couldn't quite get it right when it came to showing how much he loved you.
For Soap and his new wife, you gifted them with a housewarming gift - well, multiple... you also went overboard when giving gifts. You just couldn't help it. Besides, it was a special occasion for Soap - he had just purchased a new house with his wife.
Amazon was your best friend when it came to buying multiple gifts.
You laughed as Soap and his wife opened the gift together, seeing that you had bought them a personalized cutting board (she loved to cook), a speaker that worked in the shower (Soap loved music and Simon always joked with him on base that he "should as well baptize himself" with the long showers he took), and an ornament for their Christmas tree that was a picture of them at their wedding in the middle - Simon being the best man as well as the men standing in attention, similar to how they stood in the photos in Simon's office.
"Thank you so much." Soap complimented you.
"You're welcome. I know you can make use out of it!"
"Definitely will."
Throughout the gift-giving ceremony, you were fulfilled as you loved the feeling of having family, hoping that Simon felt the same as you knew he had a rough childhood/early adulthood. You were glad Simon got along well with your father - the men even going on fishing trips every so often. Although you got each member of your family one gift, you had two for Simon - one of them being something he didn't know about, so you were going to save it for everyone to see, knowing he would love it.
His first gift was, of course, multiple items into one. You got him one of his favorite hoodies, his favorite cologne, and something new: an online pass for one of his favorite car video games that he and Soap had talked about at dinner - that conversation being planned too, ensuring that it was something of interest to Simon before you bought it. He wasn't a big gamer, but he liked to interact with a virtual world every now and then to take the edge off. And he loved racing cars. Now I definitely won't hear from him much anymore. He'll be too busy racing Soap, you thought jokingly.
He placed a thankful kiss to your temple, watching you as you opened your gift(s). When this man went overboard on showering you with gifts, he meant it. Inside the box was a gift card to your favorite coffee shop(...let's just say it was enough to keep you satisfied for a few days on your favorite iced coffee...), a pair of socks that had a cute print of your favorite animal on them, three books that you had always been wanting to read, but always forgot to order (he literally swiped your phone while you were sleeping and went through your Amazon cart), your favorite face scrub, and inside of a small velvet box was another diamond band to match against your engagement ring. To Simon, the bands he got you were to symbolize the years you have spent together. Having two bands total, he would want you to choose the band you wanted for when your wedding day came.
"Thank you so much, baby." You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips as you immediately tried on the band, watching it fit snugly against your engagement ring.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
"I have a surprise gift for you, by the way. It wouldn't have made sense to give it to you before everyone opened their gifts."
"You're making me nervous with that talk." He chuckled.
"Don't be nervous, you'll love it!"
You got up carefully, rushing towards your shared bedroom to retrieve the special gift you had been hiding from him for the past week from the closet. Walking back into the living room, he was still standing at the table, the wrapping paper from his gift box thrown away and his items sitting in the box, organized. Yep, the military never left him...
Simon began to feel suspicious as Soap and his wife approached the table as well, but those feelings subsided as it was only the four of you at the table. You smiled as you set the box on the table, wrapped in solid red wrapping paper. He looked down at it, his suspicion growing as he honestly thought it was a prank Soap had put together.
"It ain't gonna open itself!" Soap teased.
"The more you talk, the more resistance I feel on opening it."
Soap sighed.
"Don't be a wuss." He chuckled.
Simon shook his head, hiding the chuckle he wanted to let out as he was truly happy to be picking at Soap again. He missed it - taunting him and joking with him across their radios while on missions. It made the time go by faster.
Slowly, he opened the gift, seeing a white box underneath. It resembled a box that a cake would come in, but it was no cake. Using his pocketknife to cut the tape that held it shut, he then saw a mound of tissue paper under the lid. Now confused, he glanced at you briefly before slowly moving the tissue paper out of the way.
He was truly at a loss for words. His chest tightened, his heart thudded against his sternum, and his mind felt dizzy as if he were stunned.
It was an outfit for an infant with a positive pregnancy test on top of it and a copy of the ultrasound of the baby. A little blip.
You were only seven weeks and had found out on your recent check-in at your doctor. It was partially a planned pregnancy, but you nor Simon were in a rush but were prepared if it were to happen.
He was afraid to reach in and touch the items, afraid that they would disappear if he did. He couldn't believe it, but also couldn't find the motion to express what he was feeling. Happiness was an understatement and he hoped that you didn't think he wasn't happy with the gift, but you knew by seeing in his eyes that he was truly too stunned to speak. He then looked over at you, seeing the excitement in your eyes as he felt the time had slowed down around him. Everyone was looking his way now, making him feel like he was obligated to jump for joy, but he didn't move.
He looked back down at the items in the box, seeing your handwriting on a small card next to the test: 'I can't wait to meet you, daddy!'
That did it for him right then and there. He broke out of his few-second trance and approached you, "Are you serious?" He asked, pleading with his eyes that it was true. His hands were on your hips, closest to your abdomen as he was going to admire that bump of life that grew inside of you.
You nodded at his question, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carefully pulled you closer to him, leaving a couple-inch gap between you two, afraid that he would squish your belly. You were so delicate to him now that he was responsible for.
He was going to be the man he admired - your father.
He closed his eyes as he imagined it was just you and him in the room, ignoring everyone's curious gaze and congratulations as he pressed his face against your neck, keeping himself there before you felt his left arm come up behind your neck and to his face, seeming like he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He was holding back tears.
"Well, all-be," Soap smiled as he approached him from the side, patting his shoulder. "Looks like you've got yourself a win, yeah L.t.?"
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demxters · 2 years
Text
—𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢
jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!aviator!reader
series summary: “there’s no place like home for the holidays,” is a saying you loathe with a passion.  you didn’t hate the holidays. you just wished you had a place to call home when the winter days are lonely and the nights are long and cold. little did you know that home was a lot closer than you think, and came in the package of a charming green eyed pilot with a surprising amount of love for the holiday season. 
wc: 3.9k
warning(s): fem!reader, idiots in love, some self deprecating thoughts, mentions of anxiety, implications of bad family relationships
part of the ‘through the seasons’ universe 
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𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!
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“this heart that glows like an ember, longs to be loved just by you…” warm december, julie london  
You are not a Scrooge. Not in the slightest. In fact you loved the holidays—being bundled up in the coziest of fleece sweaters, Christmas music, and hot chocolate were amongst your favorite winter activities. However, that’s not to say the holidays were your favorite time of the year. 
The air of The Hard Deck warms your cold cheeks as you enter the bar. A content sigh escapes you as you send Penny Benjamin a small grin and a wave. Bouts of familiar laughter steal your attention away to the two pool tables towards the back of the bar, already surrounded by your favorite people. 
Fanboy is the one who catches a glimpse of you first as you make your way through the sea of people. He perks up, shoving his pool cue into Bob’s vacant hands. 
“It’s about time you showed up, Thumper!” Fanboy chortles, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “We were getting a bit worried that you bailed on us.” 
You laugh and give his hand a soft squeeze as the two of you make your way back to the squad. “On Secret Santa day? I could never!” You shake the gift you're holding as emphasis. “Besides, if anyone was going to bail, it’d definitely be Mav.” 
Fanboy nods in agreement before pulling you towards the pool tables. A chorus of dramatic ‘hellos’ and cheers erupt from the aviators as you approach. Of course they started causing a scene. It was ever the Dagger way. 
On birthdays, anniversaries, hell even for an everyday appearance, it was a squad tradition to make the small things a huge deal. 
You will never forget when Rooster got the whole bar to sing Can You Feel The Love Tonight the first time Fanboy drove a girl home. 
Despite being regulars, you can’t help the heat that sets your cheeks aflame. Everyone is looking at your rowdy little group and worst of all, you were the center of attention. You hated it and they all knew it. 
They chant your callsign and fist pump while you turn your head, and tuck your chin into the crook of your neck in a lousy attempt to hide your embarrassment. The weight on your shoulders releases as Fanboy makes his way back to the group with the same mischievous grin the rest of them have. 
You catch Hangman’s eye and he sends you a sly grin that has your heart running a hundred beats a minute in your ribcage. Your friendship with Jake Seresin was one of the few that you held close to your heart. You love each member of the squad equally, however you had to admit the Jake shaped hole in your heart was a tad larger than all the rest. But you wouldn’t tell any of them that. Especially not him. 
He reaches you with an outstretched hand. His brows are raised as if to say, “Well?” So you begrudgingly take his hand in yours, knowing he won’t let up until you do. 
Jake lifts your intertwined hands and the way he instantly lights up flies right over your head, but doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the aviators. 
“There you are, darling. Give us a twirl,” he drawls with a wink. 
You let out a sigh of feign annoyance, before doing a small spin. The group lets out a second series of chortles and obnoxious noises. Another round of heat settles on your ears and the apple of your cheeks. Hangman shakes his head with his hand still in yours as he drapes his arm around your shoulder. They finally settle down when you drop your wrapped gift onto the designated wooden table and unravel yourself from Jake’s hold to greet everyone else individually.  
The fall of his smile and shoulders catch Coyote’s eye and he gives Jake a subtle pat on the back. “Could you be any more obvious?” Coyote teases his friend. 
Jake frowns, crossing his arms over his shoulders and watches as you move in to hug Payback. “Can’t you see I’m trying?” He really was. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the anticipation of being in your presence, of pining for you day after day. You were right at arm's length but so out of reach. He was sure it was going to kill him someday. 
Coyote scoffs taking a swig of his drink. “Well try harder because it clearly isn’t working,” he retorts. 
He smacks his friend on the arm and with a jerk of his head the two bring themselves back to the festivities. 
The next two hours are spent in tipsy splendor. Alcohol is drunk, gifts are exchanged, and jokes are told as the night continues to wind down. Accepting a bottle of water from Jake, you feel yourself sobering up as the normally crowded Hard Deck starts to empty. Penny is generous enough to let you guys stay even after she’s all ready to close up. Partially because Maverick decides to spend the rest of the night cuddled up with her in one of the corner booths, leaving the rest of you to your own devices. 
A soft sigh escapes your lips and your eyelids are heavy from the events of the night. You’re engrossed in your own conversation with Coyote as you rest your weight on Hangman’s chest, leaning back on the heels of your feet so your back is against him. There’s a light sheen of sweat on the back of your neck and you're too dazed to be able to tell if it’s from being so close to Jake or the alcohol that’s filtering through your system. One of his hands is respectfully on your hip while the other lays on the counter the two of you are standing beside. 
Jake’s chest rumbles against your back as he contributes his own comments to you and Coyote’s ongoing debate on whether or not Die Hard is considered a Christmas movie. He’s oh so warm against you and you have to fight off the urge to drift off right then and there. The name of one of your favorite movies catches your attention and you’re drawn back to the conversation at hand. 
“If that makes Die Hard a Christmas movie, then that means Mean Girls is too. And you know it’s not.” 
You turn to look up at Jake with an astounded look on your face. “Excuse me, Hangman, Mean Girls is a Christmas movie! And a Halloween one. That’s what makes it so great.” 
He looks at you with an arched brow. “So you’re siding with John McClane then?” 
You nod, biting your lower lip at your growing grin. 
“Unbelievable,” he grumbles, making you fall back into him with a giggle. Jake’s grip tightens at your hip. It sets the skin there on fire despite the fabric that blocks his touch from directly caressing your skin. An eruption of butterflies roam through your stomach. All because of him. 
The feeling was all too familiar when it came to the green eyed aviator. He had caught your eye on your first day at Top Gun and hasn’t left your line of sight ever since. After the two of you graduated, you still found yourself thinking of him when you were deployed overseas. It was just your luck that your paths would cross once again, right where everything started. Only this time luck was on your side, and the permanence of the Dagger Squad in Miramar gave you the opportunity to act on the heavy tug in your chest every time he was around. 
Prior to engaging in an actual friendship with Seresin, you have heard plenty of stories about the acclaimed pilot who “always left his wingman hanging.” Naturally, earning him his beloved callsign. His arrogance and slightly dickish attitude precedes him, for he acted as such when you first met him in the academy. Yet, you still found yourself drawn to him. To your surprise, he was drawn to you too. 
Gone was the boastful Top Gun pilot and in return you got to know him as both Hangman and Jake Seresin. It was a gift not many got to possess. One you wouldn’t dare take for granted. Which is why upon discovering your true feelings towards your friend, you hid it away. Buried it deep into the chambers of your heart. Never wanting it to be uncovered. 
You seem to have spent far too long with your head in the clouds because Jake is nudging you gently. Rooster is staring at you with an inquisitive raise of his brow and your palms sweat at the sudden awkwardness of the group’s silence. “Sorry, Roos, what did you say?” It wasn’t uncommon for you to get lost in your head. Your friends are used to it by now. In fact on more occasions than one you found yourself drifting away and surrounded in a sea of your thoughts. When this starts happening, Jake is always the one to reel you back in. 
“I asked if you had any plans for the holidays,” he repeated with a nonchalant wave of his hand. Don’t worry about it, his actions said. 
Despite knowing he was being sincere, it didn’t change the fact that you still felt guilty about pulling away again. “Nothing special, just hanging around here. I guess.” No plans, as usual, is what you had wanted to say. Your eyes dart to the window, staring at the dimly lit patio and the moon’s reflection on the beach waves. 
The tension that falls upon the group is palpable. The once easy going atmosphere dropped onto your shoulders, making you feel heavy inside. 
Phoenix sends you a look, one you could only describe as pity. Very few of the squad members knew about the complicated relationship you had with your family. Of them all, just Phoenix and Maverick had a clue to how messy things were. It was the look on Phoenix’s face that stopped you from telling anyone else about your predicament. You hated being on the receiving end of that look. You hated feeling weak. 
“You’re not going to go home and visit your family?” There it is. The f-word. Poor, innocent Bob didn’t know any better but to ask. 
The scoff that leaves you is harsher than you intended it to be as you step away from Hangman’s gravity. A chill settles over you from the loss of his warmth and you wrap your arms around yourself to shield you from outwardly cringing. “Oh, there’s no one waiting for me back home.” Your shoulders deflate and you keep your gaze towards the window, not wanting to see the same saddened looks on your colleagues faces. The tears that threaten to fall gather in the corner of your eyes and you brush them off with the back of your hand. 
Jake’s heart aches at your confession. How could someone as wonderful as you have no one to come home to? Sure, you’ve never talked openly about your family or a possible significant other, but he had just assumed that you had plenty of people back home who cared. He didn’t think you were all alone. A pang of guilt courses through him at the thought of his constant raving about his mother and father. His pride and joy for his hometown community was one he was never ashamed of expressing until now. Had he known it was such a sensitive topic, he would have never talked about it with you to save you from loneliness and heartbreak.
“No one should spend the holidays alone,” Payback frowns. 
Fanboy nods in agreement with his front seater. “You really have nowhere to go?” 
You shrug. “Really, it’s okay, guys. It’s nothing I’m not used to.” 
Those words are like a stab at Jake’s chest. A fleeting thought crosses his mind. It’s irrational and quite selfish but he always seemed to act that way around you. You could come home with me. 
He doesn’t even realize the offer had fallen from his lips until you look back at him in shock. 
“What?” The word falls breathlessly from your lips. 
Jake blinks before meeting Coyote’s amused gaze. He focuses back on you and with much more confidence repeats, “Come home with me.” 
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How he managed to convince you to come home with him for Christmas, Jake wasn’t sure. It was a miracle that you even said yes in the first place. 
“Are you sure this is okay?” You had asked him before boarding. 
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” He sends you a charming smile. 
You look down at your worn out tennis shoes. The conflict stirring within you is evident and Jake wishes he could take it away. He could imagine why you were having second thoughts. You guys were friends but this…this felt a little too intimate for your relationship. If he could even call it that. 
“Hey.” He places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If you’re worried about not being welcome, don’t. My family they’re…” 
“A little more than friendly,” Coyote having overheard your conversation butts in. “Trust me. I slept over practically every night in high school and they didn’t even bat an eye. ” 
You look at Jake who is already confirming his statement with a soft smile. “Seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t okay. You trust me, right?” 
“Right,” you swallow. 
“Then trust me when I say it’s all good.” 
He was now sandwiched between you and Coyote on a flight back to their hometown. You were seated at the window and Javy had the aisle. 
Jake adjusted the belt across his lap as he patiently waited for the boarding process to be complete. He turned towards his friend and wasn’t surprised to see Coyote already knocked out. He laughs to himself before turning to you. 
You’re staring out the window and your leg is bouncing rapidly up and down, emitting soft thumps with each movement. 
He places his hand on your knee and you whip your head towards him. He cringes with an apologetic look. 
Once it settles in that the person who touched you was just Jake, the tightness in your muscles dissipates. 
“You’re doing it again,” he tells you gently. “Everything okay?” 
You sigh. “No. I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just…” You shake your head. “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.” 
Jake shakes his head and a frown tugs at his lips. “I won’t think it’s stupid, Thumps. Promise.” He holds his free hand up as if he were taking an oath. 
“I’m nervous,” you breathe. “I don’t know what it is, but being a passenger and not having control of the plane, it scares me. And I hate it because I’m a pilot, you know? I shouldn’t be afraid of flying. Like I said. Stupid.” 
“Thumper.” 
You avoid his gaze. 
“Y/N,” he tries again. This time, the use of your real name gets you to look at him. “It’s not stupid. In this environment, you’re used to being in control. So used to it that your brain goes into overdrive when you’re not and that’s okay. Besides, flying commercial doesn’t really fulfill our need for speed, does it?” 
That pulls a dry laugh from your lips. “No, it doesn’t.” A soft chime over the intercom sends your heart racing again and you shut your eyes as the plane starts to move. The light pressure on your knee from Jake’s hand has you releasing a shaky breath. 
“It’ll be okay. Try and sleep, Thumper,” he tells you softly. “I’m here, just sleep.” 
“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.” His eyes are bright as they settle on you. He knew you knew his name. He definitely knew yours. The two of you graduated from the same Top Gun class. He remembers how impressed he was that you graduated third right behind him and Coyote. He didn’t have the guts to speak to you then. Jake didn’t have the bravado he has now. “Hangman.” 
“I know.” You hold your hand out to him. “Lieutenant-” 
“I know who you are, Thumper.” He winks, clasping his hand in yours. 
You eyed him suspiciously, still wary of why he decided to approach you and Phoenix as if he was unaware of the obvious tension amongst the group. 
“Hey Coyote,” Phoenix nods to the man beside Jake. 
Coyote nods back. “Hey.” 
You’re aware of the conversation carrying on around you but you are too taken by the blond haired pilot whose stare hasn’t left yours since you walked in. He was trouble. You didn’t need to hear any more stories about him to know that. But even as the alarm bells went off in your head, screaming at you to keep your distance and stay away, you couldn’t. He continued to capture your attention and eventually got a hold of your heart, body, and soul. 
You wake with a tap to your shoulder. Your gaze meets his and he’s looking down at you with an apologetic smile. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there. I just wanted to let you know that we’re here.” 
Your brows furrow, only to realize that you had somehow slept the entire three hour flight from California to Texas. You’ve never been able to sleep that straight, let alone sleep straight on a plane. Though you wouldn’t deny that it felt good. That you felt good. 
Ever the gentleman, Jake takes your carry on bag from the overhead bin. You feel your muscles stretch and your joints crack with every step you take until you’re off the plane and breathing the stuffy air of the Dallas Airport.
“Ah, home sweet home,” Coyote over dramatically exclaims, stretching his back with his hands on his hips. 
You giggle and Jake sends you a wink.
 “Home sweet home, it is, Javy.” He takes a deep breath and despite being inside, Jake feels deep in his bones the familiarity of his home. 
Jake grabs your hand and Javy hooks his arm with yours so you don’t lose each other in the holiday crowd. Jake tucks your joined hands into the pocket of his coat making a small smile cross your face. You follow the two men with an amused grin. The two babble like school children, naming off all the places and things you just have to see. You have never seen the two of them this enthusiastic about something that wasn’t flying or football. A warmth spreads through you at the sight of them so at ease, so at home. For a moment, you find yourself wishing you had a place this familiar. To feel this peaceful in your own hometown. However, it’s a fleeting thought. Just as quickly as it came, it vanishes as soon as you step out of the airport into the dry Texas air. 
“You call him?” Coyote asks from your left. 
Jake only grumbles a response, clearly not too fond of this “him” Coyote has brought up. 
You stare at Jake for clarification to which he sighs out, “He’s talking about my brother, Luke. He’s going to pick us up and take us home.” 
“Oh,” is all you say. Take us home. Us. The thought has your stomach doing backflips as you wait out in the cold. You are chastising yourself immediately. Jake meant “us” as in him and Javy. Not “us” as in you and him. The two of you are friends. There is no us. It was foolish of you to entertain the thought for even a moment more. 
Javy releases your arm as a black SUV pulls up to the white curb. You feel Jake tense and see his jaw clench as the car comes to a stop. 
A man in jeans, boots, and a brown flannel top steps out of the SUV with a megawatt grin. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive but as you observed him closer, you understood why. He resembled the man beside you quite a bit. The dimple on his left cheek as he grinned and his dirt blond head of hair was an exact replica of Jake’s. The one thing that set them apart were their eyes. His were a dark shade of brown that rivaled those of his brother’s. Luke Seresin was broad and burly while his brother was muscular and lean. He had a couple more inches to him compared to Jake. He puffed his chest out a bit more as Luke approached him. 
“Well, if it isn’t my little brother.” His voice, you note, is different too. Slightly deeper and not as kind. The exchange feels rehearsed and unnatural. From the way he grabs his brother in his arms and pats his back in a way that looks a little too rough to be playful. 
Jake doesn’t say a word and just grunts as he’s pulled into his brother. One arm wraps around Luke’s shoulders while the other stays at his side with his hand still in yours. He rolls his lips inwards and nods in greeting. Jake turns to you with a softer look in his eyes. “Stay here. I’m going to go help Javy with the bags.” He reluctantly unravels his hand from your hold before glaring at his brother once more. 
You watch him head to the trunk and shove your hands into your own pockets. You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, feeling awkward in his brother’s intense stare. 
“You must be the infamous Thumper.” Luke remarked. 
“Yeah, I guess I am,” you swallow, slightly confused by his comment. You didn’t like how he made you feel. He didn’t provide you the same comfort that Jake did. You really need to stop comparing the two, you remind yourself. “You must be Luke.” 
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he echoes. 
“Hey, Luke, you mind helping us out back here?” Jake shouts from the back of the car. 
Luke gives you one last look over before responding. “Yeah, I’m coming.” 
The wink he sends you shoots a chill down your spine and you find yourself tapping your foot and wrapping your arms around yourself for security. The feeling finally dissipates when Jake’s familiar scent of his laundry detergent and the cheap cologne he buys from Target floods your senses. 
He nudges his shoulder with yours. “You ready?” Jake opens the car door. 
You shake yourself from your stupor and feel yourself relax with Jake’s presence. “Ready as I can be,” you reply absently. 
He helps you into the back and Coyote sends you a comforting smile as you buckle your seatbelt. Jake climbs into the front seat with his brother and he takes off the second Jake’s door is closed. 
You catch Jake’s eye in the side view mirror as you cruise down the highway. His lips tug upward and you reciprocate before staring out at the scenery once more.
Safe. The word passes through you, surrounding you in a bubble of warmth. The nerves you were previously feeling towards the whole affair faded away, even if only for a moment. This entire time you wondered why you said yes to Jake’s proposal for coming home with him for the holidays. You grappled with the anxiety that didn’t seem to leave you despite Jake’s constant reassurance. Your worry thoughts tend to dwell on all the reasons that would make his family possibly hate you. Yet somehow, all it took was this moment to have all those thoughts seemingly disappear. This moment that made you understand everything. Jake Seresin made you feel safe. Jake Seresin felt like home. 
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a/n: idk why i’m so nervous for this series, but i am. so please, please keep in mind comments, reblogs, and feedback do make a difference. i hope u guys enjoy!! <3
let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist!
taglist: @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @t-nd-rfoot​ @gretagerwigsmuse​ @marantha​ @mountainrooster​ @gcidrvsh @smoothdogsgirl​ @pr3ttyboysmakemecry​ @steve--harrington--gal @marrianena @cdauni 
(i also tagged the ppl who were tagged in ‘fall’ so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in this series)
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delopsia · 7 months
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I remember the picture of Rhett’s room with all the blankets and you just posted that he would bring a lot of plaid blankets with him which makes me wonder, is he a blanket hoarder? He steals all the blankets, the ones draped across the couch usually ends us wrapped around him. Does he build a blanket fort with us? Does he pick up a new blanket from his quick grocery run that he needed to have?
You have no idea how perfect the timing of this is. Right before you sent this, I was looking at that picture 😭 Rhett is absolutely a blanket hoarder!
He started doing it when he was little because Perry would take all of them from the closet when it started getting colder, and Wyoming nights are brutal when the heating is going out, and your house has poor insulation. He'd start darting around the house, shoving them into the corners of his closet and snuggling up when it got cold out.
Now he just attracts to them out of habit, when did he pick up your favorite blanket from the couch? He hasn't the slightest clue, but he's been snuggled up with it for an hour now. But it's not a house-only sort of thing.
He buys so many blankets.
Every color, pattern, holiday, and season. Fleece, cotton, wool, knit, sherpa, plush, quilt, electric, weighted, odd shapes and patterns. It's gotten a little bit ridiculous at this point. Every time he goes shopping alone, he's pretty much guaranteed to return with one that you somehow don't own yet. As of right now, his favorite blanket is a giant pink and white cow print that you gifted him for his birthday. It was supposed to be black and white, but they mistakenly shipped pink, and Rhett absolutely adored it.
He loves to make nests out of the smaller ones, these little round amalgamations of clashing blankets that could very well serve as an extra bed, while he reserves the oversized blankets to go overtop chairs and the sides of the couch. He doesn't just make a blanket fort; it's a whole damn palace 🤍 But do not be fooled; he absolutely notices if one goes missing.
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manymanydolls · 16 days
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Since I recently redid my meet photos for all my girls, I thought it’d be fun to do a post with some fast facts about my original characters. Look under the cut to learn more about them!
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Jennifer:
Favorite season is autumn
Plays with her mother’s Miss America Barbie doll
Loses track of time easily and will stay up very late working on her knitting projects or watching TV
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Katherine:
Has sensory processing disorder and is especially sensitive to loud sounds
Favorite holiday is Halloween
Puts glitter stickers on everything she owns
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Evelin:
Favorite musician is Rufus Wainwright
Sets up a hummingbird feeder outside her bedroom window every summer
Got into making amateur radios as a fun way of communicating with her friends during the Covid pandemic
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Nancy:
Favorite holiday is Valentine’s Day
Listens to at least three Talking Heads albums a week
Wants Amanda to play drums so that they can be like Van Halen
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Amanda:
Favorite book is The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate
Broke her wrist skateboarding when she was 11
Watched a TV program about volcanoes once and now is a little afraid of them but also fascinated by them
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Rosemary:
Never sleeps with a blanket because it feels too constricting
Favorite food is a grilled cheese sandwich with a fried egg on top
Bakes lemon bars with her Mama at least once a month
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Daisy:
Is afraid of ghosts
Loves foxes and has a beloved fox Squishmallow
Pours soy sauce directly on rice to make her grandparents mad (manners in Japan dictate that you dip a bite in sauce instead of pouring it over your food) (and Daisy knows it)
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Ruby:
Has a scar on her ankle from a Razor scooter with a vengeance
Most treasured possession is a sunflower-print fleece blanket from her grandmother Marie
Favorite food is 4th of July hot dogs
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Marguerite:
Wants to live in an old Victorian house
Has a huge collection of interesting rocks and crystals and wants to have an entire rock display wall
Once had a really intense cottagecore phase and refused to eat bread that she didn’t bake herself
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kthynes · 2 years
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jingle balls
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18+
You get very merry with Lloyd.
word count: ~890
warnings: course language. Christmas fluff! Husband for Hire AU (masterlist coming soon!)
This has not been beta’d - mistakes are my own
“This is silly.” Lloyd throws his arms in the air, appearing in nothing but a fleece Christmas onesie that barely reaches his ankles. He stands in the middle of the living room, grumpy as can be.
“It’s cute and festive. Turn around.” You do a finger roll and he obeys your order, giving you a taut 360 along with a great view of his ass. “Hmm…”
“I’m getting zero circulation to my balls, y’know that?” He cups his front and readjusts himself, kicking his legs apart as he does.
“I think there’s a front snap closure…” You sympathize in a daze while shoving handfuls of caramel corn into your mouth.
“Oh good, I can let my wang out for Cujo and anyone else to see.”
“Gross.” You finally snap into realization and Lloyd drops himself next to you on the couch, dunking his hand in the popcorn bowl.
“Why’re we doing all this, sweets?”
“It’s the holiday season. Why not do all this?” You strategically lean into him, his one arm slung on top of the couch as you angle your phone up in position. “Smile for the camera, Hany.”
He smiles. You’re elated. The selfie is candid where you’re looking up at him, mouthing the word ‘smile’ at the final click. It’s sweet, endearing enough to hold onto and Lloyd is equally reverent on it as well.
“I like this one. Send it to me.” He nudges while bringing his attention back to the TV. You smile and nod, pocketing your phone for the rest of the night.
“So this is it? This all you wanted from me?” He motions to the decorated tree, half empty mugs of hot cocoa and packs of beer. An unfinished game of Scrabble and Cujo who peacefully slumbered in front of the crackling fireplace.
“Pretty much.” Your head moves against his chest, fussing to find a comfortable spot, for him to be closer than he already is.
“You good?” Lloyd makes a face and you look up at him, piercing him with a judgey gaze.
“All my exes thought they were too good to celebrate Christmas, they weren’t about the kitschy traditions and galore.”
“And you think I’m spirited like that?”
“I think my pretend boo could just pretend for once.” You harp on sardonically. “Yeah?”
“By literal means.” Lloyd snickers as he snakes an arm around and draws you in closer, shuffling right into his next question. “So how many ex boyfriends are we talking about here?”
“Well you already know about Alistair…”
“Redhead with a temper?” He confirms and you sigh. “He’s an unforgettable dude.”
“The ones that came after him were a multitude. But I don’t wanna talk about them.” You dismiss.
“OK, just remind me whenever they’re around.” He grins from ear to ear, one that’s earnest of him and his diabolics.
“So that you can deal with them?” You gawk.
“Yeah.” He exasperates. You playfully thwart him for that. He’s smitten by the action itself, throwing his head back in deep laughter.
“They’re not my problem anymore. Don’t be that guy.”
“Which one are we talking about?” He lulls and you give him a doe eyed look.
“We’re not going there.”
“Why not? I can tell you about my exes.”
“You dated a whole platoon!”
“Yeah from a sorority.” He answers as if it made the situation any better. “Now if I could go back…”
“Oh all those Ashley’s.” You croon up in his face.
“They were something alright.” He comments while looking ahead. You smelled really nice, nice enough for his hand to fall from the top of the couch to your hip, pulling you in a smidge closer.
“Couldn’t stand them.” You huff, trying to focus on the movie. “They came after me in college because you were around.”
“You know, we could’ve easily dated back then.” Lloyd considers while taking a sip of his beer. He says this in hopes that it would change the current trajectory. But it doesn’t. Sadly.
“No we couldn’t have. You worked for my father and I wasn’t allowed to see you. Literally and romantically.” During your college years, your father deployed one of his men to watch over you. Lloyd was assigned and when he was your guy, all the girls wanted him too. It was hard to make sense of the ordeal when, for the longest time, you had no idea you were being watched.
“It was weird how Tany always asked about you too.”
Tany was your old roommate. Her phrasing would be: ‘where’s gel back?’ You assumed she was talking about stationary.
“That’s cause we fucked on the rare occasion.” Lloyd harmonizes a good memory with a nasty grin on his face, telling of a time.
“In our dorm?”
“And everywhere else.” He sneakily says into the beer spout.
“Ew!”
“Look, not everyone was holding it out like you, alright?” He reminds you of a private conversation you had with your then roommate about saving yourself for marriage. He had the unsaid opportunity to hear you out but paid no mind to it till now.
“I’m not wrong for doing so.” You defend.
Lloyd’s face changes, slighting some concern but not enough to press you on about it. Instead he simply nods and points the remote towards the TV.
“We should get back to watching the movie.” He’s lighthearted and smiles. “The best part is coming up.”
You smile wobbly, reminding yourself that this, you and him, was temporary. You’re not supposed to fully confide in this man. You weren’t supposed to let go.
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hi. is it possible to request an ewan mitchell x non-actress asian reader? she is introduced to ewan because of her besties tom and phia. she is currently a student in oxford, studying mathematics and classical piano, and casually models from time to time just for fun and earn extra cash. she also speaks multiple asian languages and, while a lot of the guys in her cohort are intimidated by her, ewan was immediately taken by her. thanks.
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Of course! For more HOTD requests, just submit a strong snack to Vhagar through my ask box 💚 {I will be opening my ask box soon for The Last Kingdom and Game of Thrones requests, so keep an eye out for that announcement! 💕}
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Prestigious Student [Ewan Mitchell x Asian!Reader]
Other HOTD stories [requests open]
Summary: It is the holiday season and you decided to meet up with two of your best friends in London while they’re on break from filming an upcoming show, House of the Dragon. They decide to bring their costar, Ewan Mitchell insisting that you would love him which causes you to become a little nervous because every boy you meet is intimidated by you….
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You looked in the mirror over your short black dress, wearing a pair of fleece tights and a winter coat with a scarf. “Is this too much?” You asked turning to Phia with furrowed brows.
Phia smiled a bit as she looked over you. “I think it’s perfect.” She scrunched up her nose. “But you don’t really have to impress anyone,” She said a bit teasingly.
You laughed and shook your head. “I just want to make a good first impression,” You mumbled.
You were in London for the holiday season and it happened to line up with your best friends’ filming schedule. They seemed excited to introduce you to one of their fellow costars, Ewan Mitchell. It had been a few months since you’ve seen either Phia or Tom with them and their acting careers and if they had a free day, you would have a modeling gig booked. It seemed to be a rare occasion and you will take it while you can.
“I know Ewan is going to love you.” Phia waved her hand at your paranoia before she hooked her arm with yours after you got your heels on.
You blew out a breath and nodded at Phia’s reassurance. She always seemed to know what to say to make you feel better, although the butterflies still lightly fluttered in your stomach.
“Did you tell him anything about me?” You asked with furrowed brows while heading out towards your car.
“Only the good stuff.” Phia scrunched up her nose a bit. “But Tom is left alone with him so we can only guess what he told him.”
You groaned a bit. “That could be a bad thing then,” You whined.
Phia laughed as she got into the passenger seat of your car. “Let’s go and get a pre drink to calm your nerves,” She teased causing you to laugh.
You shook your hands a bit when you pulled up to the restaurant, a casual diner. You bit your lip gently feeling the slight sweat and rubbed your palms together.
“They must be inside already,” Phia said with furrowed brows noticing Tom’s car.
You turned off the car and got out, smiling when your best friend came over and hooked her arm with yours. “Let’s just hope Tom didn’t give me a bad first impression,” You said giggling.
Phia smirked lightly. “Tom told me that he was trying to be the best wingman for you,” She admitted.
You cocked a brow. “A wingman? I’m not looking for a boyfriend…besides, every boy is scared of me.”
“They’re just scared by a girl smarter than them,” Phia stated with a small hum. “But I think you and Ewan would be a cute couple.”
“Phia!” You exclaimed causing your friend to laugh.
“I’m just kidding.” She nudged you with a smirk. “But I know as soon as he sees you in your little black dress, he will be smitten.”
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You felt the nerves in your stomach as you walked into the diner with Phia. It was always nerve wracking to meet new people, yet you seemed more nervous than usual. Perhaps because it was a male and you didn’t want to drive this one away.
“There’s the Oxford Princess!”
You heard the familiar voice and before you knew it, a body hit yours causing you to laugh. You wrapped your arms around Tom and smiled lightly at him.
“Hello to you too,” You greeted laughing a bit.
“I have been waiting for this day for a long time now!” Tom pouted as he released the hug before wrapping an arm around Phia. “Come, we want you to meet someone.”
You giggled and shook your head at Tom’s enthusiasm before walking with them towards a table in the corner. You smiled lightly as you met the blue eyes of a brunette man.
“Ewan, this is our lovely Oxford Princess Y/N,” Tom introduced.
You smiled and shook your head at the nickname. When you first got accepted into Oxford, Tom had came up with the nickname Oxford Princess and it seemed to stick. You held out your hand for the boy to shake.
“It’s just Y/N, actually,” You told him with a small smile.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you just Y/N,” Ewan replied shaking your head while returning your smile. “I’m Ewan Mitchell.”
The night seemed to go off without a hitch, the table being filled with chatter and laughs. Ewan seemed different from the others you’ve met, being very interested in you.
“So, Tom told me that you speak three Asian languages,” Ewan spoke up while wiping his mouth.
You smiled a bit sheepishly. “It’s four, actually.”
“Four!” Ewan repeated, surprised.
Phia giggled with a soft smile. “She’s one of the brightest people I know with a double major in mathematics and classical piano,” She piped up while smirking over at you.
You smiled a bit at the look Phia gave you, knowing she was trying to be your wingwoman. Your eyes flickered back over to Ewan and looked over him while biting your lip gently. You must admit that he was quite easy on the eyes.
“That is really cool actually,” Ewan admitted his gaze meeting yours causing your cheeks to heat up.
“She is the second coolest person I know,” Tom began while waving his hand. “Behind me of course.”
You shook your head while picking lightly at your fries with a soft smile. You’ve missed your best friend’s banter and he was doing his best to being a wingman…best being the keyword.
“How long is your break?” You asked after a moment with furrowed brows.
“We go back filming after the first of the year. We don’t have much left to do,” Phia responded with a nod.
“Did you want to come with us?”
You turned to Ewan at his question and smiled lightly at the boyish grin he had on his features, a sparkle in his blue eyes.
“I can’t unfortunately. My schedule doesn’t allow it,” You said a bit sadly.
Ewan’s smile faltered a bit before it came back. “How about I give you my number then? So we can stay in touch.”
You looked at him, surprised but nodded and handed over your phone. You watched him put his number in, smiling more down at your phone after he handed it back. You felt your heart flutter a bit looking at the numbers.
You stood up once you all paid for your respective bills and you hugged Tom tight before smiling up at Ewan. You laughed a bit when he pulled you into a hug and you returned it, your head reaching about his chest. You smiled a small smile hearing how fast his heart was beating.
“It was nice to meet you, Ewan,” You said slowly releasing the hug while giving him a bright smile.
Ewan returned your smile. “And you, Y/N. Text me some time, yeah?”
“I will make sure she does,” Phia assured her costar with a giggle.
You smiled and waved bye to the boys before taking Phia’s arm, heading out to your car. You blew out a breath when you got in and giggled.
“I told you Ewan would love you!” Phia exclaimed gripping onto your arm causing you to laugh more.
“And he is pretty cute,” You added smiling over at your friend.
You didn’t know that this night would lead to something more, yet you were glad that you did not let your nerves take over. You got a chance to catch up with your friends and have a new potential partner; one that genuinely was interested in you and loved everything about you.
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shadow-book-wren · 6 months
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Yule Superstitions
Animals
Legend says animals can speak on Christmas Eve but not to listen for them because it is unlucky to hear them
Some cattle ranchers believe that if the first person to cross the threshold on Christmas eve is female, only heifers will be born on the ranch for the next year. however, if it is a male, many male calves will be born
Feeding a sprig of mistletoe to the first calf-bearing cow of the new year ensures future fertility for both
Some British believe that ivy leaves fed to each cow after milking and before noon on Christmas morning will force the devil away from the herd and keeper for the next 12 months
If the stars are bright on Christmas Eve, hens will lay well the next year
Monsters
In Sweden, its believed that trolls travel freely through countryside from dusk on Christmas eve to dawn on Christmas morning. its common practice to stay indoor during those hours, in Sweden.
Greece and Poland considers it unlucky to be born on Christmas eve and Christmas day because the roaming monsters - kallikantzaroi (Greece) and werewolves (Poland) can capture the newborn's spirit for their own devices
It is customary, in Greece, to burn all old shoes to ward off misfortune in the new year
Ghost refuse to come out of hiding on Christmas day, babies born then are said to be forever free of ghostly troubles
Food
Refusing mincemeat pie on Christmas brings bad luck in the next year
You will lose a friend before next Christmas, if you don't eat plum pudding during the holiday season
Eat an apple at midnight on Christmas Eve for ensuring good health
Leave a loaf of bread on the table, after Christmas Eve, to guarantee plenty of bread for the household in the coming year
Christmas cakes must remain uncut until December 24, and one piece left uneaten until after Christmas day to ensure good fortune
In Germany, it's customary to eat greasy pancakes on the winter solstice and leave some on the table to feed the winter hag so that she doesn't "hunt you down, slice open your belly, and take the cakes right out"
Gift Giving
When giving clothing for a gift, don't wash or iron or it will press in bad luck and wash away good
House
Make sure all fires in your home burn throughout Yuletide season in order to be free of evil spirits
Some Scandinavian families place all their shoes side by side on Christmas Eve to bring harmony in the home
If you have holes in your stocking, hanging them upside down on the hearth before bed on Christmas Eve is said to have them repaired by St. Nick
Place a cherry tree branch in water two weeks before Christmas. if the branch blossoms by Christmas Day you'll have good luck in the new year.
If you fix a hole in your roof between Christmas and New Year's Day it will reappear
You'll have bad luck if you bring holly into your home before Christmas Eve, and triple bad luck if it's removed before January 6th
Mistletoe has to stay hung in place for one year to ensure good luck and when replaced, the old one should be burned
Burn evergreen and decorations of evergreens to ensure good luck
There is an ancient German custom that states that things with wheels, especially spinning ones- may not be used from 5 days before the solstice until six days after it or else the sun causes all fleece and fiber to tangle beyond repair
Marriage Omens
In Germany, girls play a holiday game, seemingly similar to duck-duck-goose, where the first player to be touched by the blindfolded goose will be first to marry of the participants.
In England on Christmas Eve, its customary for unmarried girls to knock on the hen house door... if a rooster crows in response, she'll be married within 12 months
In Northern Europe, some girls arrange three buckets of water in their bedroom, pin three sprigs of holly to their nightgowns before sleeping and are awakened by three shouts and three chuckles. an apparition of their future husbands will appear and if the buckets are rearranged - the marriage proposal wont have any issues ; If they aren't - they may not be a willing partner
In Poland, it is believed that grinding poppy seed on Christmas Eve will ensure a quick marriage for unmarried women
Tossing twelve sage leaves on Christmas Eve winds will make the image of your future lover materialize
Weather
If the night sky on Christmas Eve is clear and starry, summer harvest will be abundant
The 12 days of Christmas tells the weather for each following months. ex: first day of Christmas = snowy ; January = snowy
Easter will be cold if it doesn't snow on Christmas
if Christmas Day is breezy there will be good luck for the new year
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ruiniel · 7 months
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First Snow
Fandom: Castlevania Series (2017-2021)
Rating: G
Relationship: Alucard/Greta of Danesti
Characters: Alucard, Greta of Danesti
Count: 2.1k
Also on AO3
Additional Tags: First Kiss, Snowball Fight, Winter, Inspired by Castlevania, Post-Castlevania Season IV, Fluff without Plot, Pining, Greta POV
Summary: Published in 2021, from a time with winter #gretacard feels.
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Wallachia, winter of 1476
Early December saw their first sweep of abundant snow as a sudden, restless winter took over the lands, but work and commotion never ceased. Greta walked among the people bundled in their fleece caps and winter coats, heading to and fro, milling about paths battered by frequent use. Thick smoke billowed in the air from newly built chimneys, and there were small fires started here and there, where spicy mulled wine frothed in dark cauldrons for all to share.
The winter holidays would soon be upon them, and the headwoman of Belmont looked gladly on their efforts, which yielded an already habitable location months after moving here and starting their lives anew. The fresh snow fallen in the night now clung like soft fluff to her leather boots, and her breath came misted white in the cold. She walked bundled in her own beige fleece coat, her hair braided back from her face and a green woollen cap pulled over her ears for added protection.
She sought left and right, searching for him — as she often did lately, it seemed. But, as with many other occasions, Alucard was the one who knew the details needed to help them move forward with another current predicament, namely designating which extra chambers they could convert to house some families whose dwellings were still unfinished. He repeatedly said his home was theirs, but she always asked. No one had ever given them so much, freely, without expecting a manner of recompense. It had always been so, from the monster hunters her people were forced to hire in times past to the communal authorities that never gave a damn about Danesti, a wide spot in the road to them where wandering people settled like driftwood.
Besides, Greta didn’t grudge the extra time spent in his presence, even for necessity’s sake. Some time had passed, and like those frightful bloodied nights spent reaching his castle, she’d seen Alucard change with the last, painful visions of his parents, the return of his friends, the deepening of their relationship. They were everything to him, and he had no blood relatives left to speak of. It was a particularity Greta shared, and one that made her see beyond his calm demeanor that grey, lingering sadness. It was in his smile, his eyes. She doubted it would fade for a while yet, but, as had been her thought at the beginning, Alucard did get used to them all being here. He thrived among them with every new spark in his eyes whenever a problem to solve presented itself, and Greta had learned he liked to be of use to others, to share, to create. It burned through his melancholy like embers through spider silk as they built fresh memories together, whether it was baby Simon hugging him and nibbling at his hair or the children asking to be flown around, or learning to make good polenta from the elder women. Greta smiled, and wondered again how much time had passed since her words to him that neither had ever acted upon.
I think I might like you.
She shook free of that admission, his wavering smile, the feel of his warm fingers on her skin. It was easy to brush it off as ephemeral attraction and craving spanning from a loneliness that had clambered over her heart and dug itself beneath her breast bones, and would not budge. Alucard had seen enough emotional turmoil that she wouldn’t, couldn’t, push for her own possibly one-sided needs and risk hurting him — and herself — in the process.
A sharp wind roiled across the skies, disturbing the clinging snow from the branches. It fell in ice sprinkles over her cap, dusted her shoulders. Her smile returned. It had been long since they had a peaceful winter.
It was a crisp day, and a pale sun was setting early beyond the frost-laced forest bordering the village, through limbs of bare oaks and heavy dark evergreens, setting the sky a cool blaze of blue, purple, and orange. Plunging her mittened hands into her pockets, Greta hurried to keep warm, and soon the unmistakable bubble of children’s laughter reached her.
She found them all at the base of a risen mound, watching as others barrelled downward from the hilltop on wooden sleighs. And there was Alucard.
He stood tall, arms crossed at his chest, a smile warming his pallid face. He was wrapped in his long black coat, his head uncovered, appearing completely unbothered by the chill. Greta raised an eyebrow at that — how he didn’t freeze to death was beyond her. The cool red sun shimmered on his golden hair, and he seemed a youthful ghost against the gleaming mass of white surrounding them.
That same yearning reared its needy head, and she smothered it down, instead relishing the way Alucard’s smile grew as the children’s laughter soared to the heavens. She then remembered he’d promised to build them all sleighs to ride out when the snows hit. And apparently, he kept his word. Now the woman understood the spark of glee in his eyes. Anda and Raul rushed off their new, polished wooden sleighs after they bound down the hill, giving Alucard a quick hug before rushing back to their games with the others. Soon they forgot all about the adult in their midst, busy with their own winter competition.
Alucard slowly turned on his heel, still smiling and shaking his head at their yelps and joyful cries and words of gratitude, a gloved hand waving the group goodbye. He looked so fresh, as fresh as the damn snow and something, something impish and sneaky brimmed at the back of her mind.
It must be the season, she thought; the relief, the throwback to similar times from the lanes of her own memories.
Whatever the reason…
Who cares?
Alucard hadn’t seen her yet, though he was striding back towards the same path, and Greta took the chance to hide behind the nearest tree. She knelt, slowly, and rolled a generous snowball in her hands. She straightened, hiding as Alucard neared, whistling — whistling! that was new — some old drinking song one elder taught him two nights before. She waited, and waited, until he was closer… closer still…
Alucard walked past the tree, and Greta rounded the trunk, snowball firmly in hand. Nearly there.
She aimed. Smiled; and struck.
Swiftly she hid behind her tree again, peering ahead and nearly bursting in laughter at the utterly confused and aghast look on his face as Alucard looked left and right, one hand still in his hair, clearing away the snow caught in his rich unbound strands.
If anything, she still had good aim, and as expected, Alucard turned, gazing suspiciously around the area. 
Giggling heartily now, Greta crouched down and rolled another ball of snow between her hands, faster now, about to rise and deploy another projectile—
“I see someone’s… busy.”
Greta stood and turned so fast her head spun, and before she could think, hurled her snowball, hitting Alucard straight in that perfect face.
She was still cackling for some reason, of course he would have sensed another presence with his damn abilities and of course he’d beamed right behind her, like the smart aleck that he was.
Greta jumped back, laughing openly at his rapid blinking, at the frown slowly creasing his forehead. She was hyperventilating, and before she knew it, her legs were struggling away from him and she was grabbing another handful of snow, which ended up as a white splatter over his chest. 
He’d still not moved, and Greta stopped some distance away, panting and smiling, watching the corners of his lips quirk upward; watching him lean down, his wolf-like gaze following her movements as he gathered snow and piled it between his gloved hands.
The first snowball missed her, and she yelped in shocked triumph. Greta stumbled back, turned and fled as another ball struck a tree to her left, dotting her cheek with icy sprinkles.
She ran again, and he was thankfully not using his powers, but good God his legs were longer than hers and soon a grip was on her arm, a hefty amount of snow in his other hand “Hah!” came an exultant hiss. “Got you—“
“Not a chanc— “ She stumbled on a rock hidden in the snow just as they were reaching the downward slope of a hill, and then she was crying out, and somehow they were both rolling down as the world turned and snow entered her mouth, her eyes, gushed beneath the collar of her coat. The downhill tumble was fast and confusing, and Greta moaned faintly, shaking her head as finally, everything stilled. 
She was splayed over something hard, warm and tense. 
Alucard.
Hair was in her mouth, and she raised her head, shaking the snow out of her vision. She sought leverage and rose, supporting herself on her arms.
Greta met his eyes. Those aureate beams that melted her knees, exposed her, sought through every nook and cranny of her soul. She concluded it was a good thing she was seated (in a manner of speaking). Her cap lay somewhere ahead of them, buried in snow.
Alucard was silent, his chest heaving up and down, watching her curiously as a deep red flush tinted his cheeks. Tiny snowflakes caught in his long, black lashes. He was trapped beneath her, his warm breath melting the ice on her lips. 
She should move.
Shouldn’t she?
“Are you all right?”
His voice, usually soft and deep as an endless night, was hoarse, cautious.
“Yes,” Greta rasped. Well, she hadn’t expected this.
Her thighs were grasping either side of his hips as she straddled him, and it took an effort to soften her body, making to move; a gloved hand was on her hip, pressing down. Greta blinked, her eyes trailing to the uneasy quiver of his lips, regretting it promptly the moment she caught his gaze. Her chest seized.
He knew.
“What is supposed to happen now?” Alucard asked, his words barely above a whisper. Like he was asking her; actually asking her.
“Nothing,” Greta said, though the word felt like grinding sand in her mouth. She didn’t know what came over her, should never have started this. “Nothing happens now. I was searching for you, I had a question on…” she paused. “Let’s get back.”  Get back… to what? To secretive glances when she thought no one was watching? To short, awkward moments of silence, where neither seemed to find the words or the will? Greta made to rise when his other hand pressed down on her other side, effectively keeping her pinned atop him.
“Greta.“
“No,” she shook her head, though the longer they sat like that, the more her body was melting against him like snow on warm skin. “No, we don’t have to… you...” His hand was on her shoulder, flowing to cup the back of her head, hedging her lower, down to him. “I didn’t mean for this... I…”
She didn’t resist, but she should try. Maybe he actually didn’t know what he was doing, and less so what he was doing to her. “We shouldn’t,” Greta mumbled, eyes closing as their foreheads touched. Warm. She shuddered.
Or was that him?
She dared not move as silence fell again.
“Is that your wish?” Alucard asked, very slowly. His eyes were mere slits of gold, the fall of his hair a halo around him in the snow. “Or you think it mine?”
He felt so good beneath her, his other arm bound around her waist, holding her closer still. She felt the press of his fingers keenly even through her layers, and he smelled so good up close, he felt… oh God.
Oh God.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Greta shivered as his fingers stroked circles at her nape. Well, all cards were on the table, as it were. She rose a little to see him properly.
What she saw left her raw on the inside, burning on the outside. She plunged her hands into his hair, brought her face closer, impossibly closer to his. Their noses bumped together — his was cold, so cold, and Greta could only smile, swallowing once before tilting her head just so... 
She gave in. Gave more, gave everything, all the loneliness and entire months’ worth of pent-up want, gasping when Alucard met her just as recklessly, and she couldn’t move, he wouldn’t let go, deepening everything she offered, hungrily, messily and with abandon.
His lips were hot and soft, his mouth so welcoming, then seeking hers, so tender she wanted to weep. Her last coherent thought before the world melted away was how well his body fit hers, like…
Like she belonged. Like home.
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More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]
BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)
Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated
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One of my good friend, Chris used to say that, “there is no such thing as bad weather here in England, only bad jacket!” And I couldn’t agree more. Indeed, one can never have enough jumpers, coat, jackets, puffers, fleeces, sherpas, thermal clothes and shackets!
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Hello, Autumn! 🍂 God, how much I dread winter ☹️ after few more weeks, winter na naman. I don’t know about you, but for me snow only looks enticing pero hindi nakakatuwa sa totoong buhay, very limited ang kilos at lakad mo just because you cannot stand too much cold when your outside, there’s nothing much one can do. Also, 4pm pa lang madilim na! They say that according to statistics, rate of seasonal affective disorder is massively increased during winter season.
Honestly, I feel extra sad and lonely during winter time, apart from the weather is so gloomy all throughout the month, I am spending holidays away from my family and loved ones. Like I cant wait to get over month of December and move past it, because it is what it is. They wouldn’t permit anyone to go for holiday or time off during Christmas season. 💔
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Oh, and one can never have enough trainers! 😍
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My date for today, mi madre mia ☺️
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