#the only thing i got that they like are christmas bells. i just drop it for them and they kick it with their paws and chase after them :)

[writingsbychlo]

NONSENSE | theodore nott

summary; you got that holiday glee from your true love.

word count; 7946

notes; there is literally no plot here. the whole thing is supposed to just be fluffy cute nonsense. I hope you enjoy it, regardless. the first fic of the christmas 2023 series, based on this song.

The lights splashed off of every surface, the usual green of a Slytherin house party was spotted with a festive red, flashes of gold from the lights that had been slung around the room. The smell of fresh pine and berries was drowned out entirely by the spice of firewhiskey and the sting of glitter-powder from the Weasley twin’s mini-firework poppers hanging in the air. 

The classic setting of the annual Slytherin Christmas party. 

Brushing around your upper thighs was the fluff of your dress, a pleasant warmth racing through your veins as your drink settled into your blood. Your body moved, swaying amongst those on the dance floor as your hands settled on delicate hips, Pansy’s own hands on your waist, you both moving together, her head tossed back. The lyrics to the song were shouted from her mouth into the crowd, not a care in the world as she soaked up the atmosphere.

You giggled, her head snapping back up, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she pulled you even closer. “What, you don’t like my singing?”

“I love your singing, Pans. It’s truly wonderful.” 

She only scoffed. You’d listened to enough shower concerts and drunken raves as her roommate over the years to know singing was one of the very few talents that Pansy Parkinson did not possess. The smell of her perfume flooded your nostrils, and she spun, dropping to the floor in a dramatic show that earned her a few cheers, including one of your own. 

Jingle bells rang out from somewhere in the crowd, muffled in the noise, Pansy made sure to twerk in time to them, her arse grinding against you as you swayed. When she rose again, her sights were locked on Luna’s across the room, the blushing Ravenclaw was doing her best not to stare, and making a poor job of it at that. 

“Oh, go put the poor girl out of her misery would you, Pansy? It’s obvious she’s into you, stop torturing her!” 

She faked a gasp, spinning to face you, and raising a perfectly manicured brow. “Now, is that any way to go about a game of cat and mouse? No wonder you lost yours so quickly.”

“I didn’t lose! I got my man, thank you very much!”

“Yes, you did.” Frozen hands clutched your waist, pushing Pansy’s hands away, their chill seeping through the material of your dress as the tip of a cold nose brushed along your exposed shoulder. “Hello, amore.”

With a dramatic sigh and a glare at Theo, she sauntered away, onto her next game despite muttering about him ‘ruining the fun’. 

The crowd swallowed her up again, leaving you alone. Leaning back into him, the cold of his clothes made you shudder, even when his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips left open-mouthed kissing along your exposed skin. 

“You’re cold, Teddy. Where have you been?”

“Out, getting some more booze. Can’t host the best party of all the houses if you’re not a good host, hm?” Finally, you spun in his arms, catching his cold lips in a kiss, and he hummed happily against your mouth as he returned the affections with vigour. His tongue licked across your lower lip, tracing the faint taste of his favourite alcohol there. “That’s the kind of kiss I get when I go out on a beer run?” 

“You’ve been out in the snow, I was just trying to warm you up.” You smirked, his eyes flashing cheekily at the insinuation, his hands slipping a little further around your body to your back, tugging you flush against him.

“Well, I’m still pretty cold. Maybe you should warm the rest of me up, huh?” His body began to shift, moving together with your own as you danced slowly, hips rocking together slowly. He positioned one thigh between your legs, a large hand splaying across your lower back to guide you in the movements. “You know, you look pretty cute in this little get-up you have going on here, Mrs Claus. But,”

You rose a brow, his eyes scanning over the red, strapless dress and trimmed white fur, the thigh-high socks you knew would drive him wild. All donned for the occasion, a cheesy dress for the Christmas pastry before you all went home for the winter break. Leaning in, his lips brush the shell of your ear, voice dropping;

“Penso che le tue calze starebbero meglio sul pavimento della mia camera da letto.”

“Are you teasing me, Teddy? I only understood about half of that.” You murmured, his teeth nibbling lightly on the shell until you gasped, before he pulled back, leaving another kiss on your jaw as he did. 

“I’ll make sure you understand me just fine by the end of the night, don’t you worry.”

Your cheeks flushed, and he noticed, the red only enhanced by the green lights in the room, your bodies moving together as the bass pumped across the stone and marble floors. His once chilled touch now seared into you like flames from a fire. Your foreheads pressed together, breaths shared as the moment was lost on you both, drunk on the feel of his hands on your skin and the smell of him in your nose. 

“Quite the little show you were putting on with Pansy back there.”

“Jealous?” You mused, and his eyes closed, a smile pulling at his lips as he shook his head a little. 

“Not at all, cara mia. Turned on, but not jealous.” He angled his head down a little more, mouth close enough to your own to taste the sugary mint on his every breath, making you want to suck the candy cane flavour from his tongue like a drug. Theo had a unique way of emptying your head of thoughts, of all rationale, of making you feel safe and loved at the same time as putting snowflakes in your stomach, all with a simple touch or look. 

“Good. You’re the only one I want under my mistletoe, Theo.” His hand dipped lower as you kissed the side of his mouth, squeezed your arse as you nipped at his jaw, traced the edge of those thigh-high socks when you rose to your tiptoes to suck on his neck softly. 

“Maybe we should go find some then, sì?” He sounded as breathless as he made you feel, nonsense flirting pouring from both of your mouths as the party roared on around you both like a din in your ears. He was your anchor, drowning everything else out as you retreated to look at him, smoothing a thumb over the mark on his neck that he’d no doubt wear proudly until it faded.

Taking his hand in your own, you lifted your clasped fingers to your lips, kissing across each of his scarred knuckles as you guided him away from the dance floor. His gaze stayed fixed on your motions, lips parting for a short puff of breath before those dark eyes flickered back up to your own. With a cheeky grin, you spun your back to him just as he moved to close the distance, a groan from him vibrating against your back as he all but plastered himself to you once again, his steps matching your own as the two of you shuffled through the room. 

“You drive me crazy, do you know that? Those eyes, that smile… this body in a dress like that.” Your only response was to add a little more of a sway to your hips as you made your way towards the drinks table, taking the long route around and letting him wait. “You’re bad, teasing me like this in front of all these people… naughty girl.”

“Oh, am I?” As you came to a stop, he murmured his response, a kiss to the back of your head and a covert smack to your arse as he leaned over you, swiping for two fresh plastic cups and searching the littered table top for a bottle with something left in. “Does that mean I’m getting coal for Christmas?”

“You’ll be getting something hard, alright.” He whispered, hips bucking into your backside, letting you feel the slight bulge beginning to grow there, and you melted back into him at his touch. His hand slides up from your waist, slides up to your throat, to cup your neck. “Perhaps a new necklace?” He murmurs, squeezing lightly. “Diamonds?”

“You two disgust me, actually.” Mattheo coughed, making you both jump a little as the bubble pops, and Mattheo shakes his head, gagging falsely. He leant across the drinks table, beginning to shake bottles, glass clinking as he drops them when they turn up useless. “Absolute animals, where has all my good whiskey gone?”

“Hello to you too, Matty.” Theo’s hand slid back down to a safer place, resting on your hip as he came to your side instead, letting you tuck under his arm and bury into his warmth and cologne. 

“Hello, lovebirds. Do we have anything to drink?”

“That’s what I have been trying to find out.” Theo mutters, and you shrug. 

“There’s always the mulled wine.”

“Wine is not supposed to be hot, dolcezza.” Your boyfriend’s face screws up, just like it does every time you say something that offends his national pride, and a bubble of laughter erupts from you, only making his expression deepen. He’d looked the same way when you’d mispronounced a dish on the menu of the restaurants he’d taken you to on your first real date, or when you’d brought up the trending ‘lasagne soup’ you’d seen online.

“At this point, I’ll drink anything as long as it gets me fucked up.” Your friend sighs, drawing chuckles from you both as you shuffle from Theo’s arms, and make your way towards the cauldron simmering in the less-crowded back of the room. They follow you slowly, the two boys chatting as you step away from the noise and bustle of the main party, and into the smokey, crowded adjoining den of the common room. Enzo is practically filling a couch of his own as he man-spreads across it, a blunt hanging from two of his fingers as he stares at the game of chess he and Tom have going, only making a move after three more drags from his cig. 

Blaise and Draco sit by the fire, each with a glass of mulled wine and in a heated debate about something you can’t keep up with. Draco’s new car or Blaise’s new favourite holiday destination, perhaps. Maybe, even a way to combine the two. Taking three glasses from the cabinet and crouching before the hearth, several greetings float your way as you pluck up the enchanted ladle that has kept the brew stirring, the smell of orange and cinnamon reaching your nose from within the pot. 

“Not sure why you got three glasses out, darling. I’m not drinking that.” Theo’s nose scrunches adorably as you pout up at him, pouring one steaming serving for Mattheo, first. 

“Oh, please, Teddy. Try it for me?”

“No.”

Your scoff is all you can muster, filling another glass as Mattheo takes his and leaving one empty, returning the spell-bound stirrer to its task. Standing to your height once again, you clutch your drink between your hands, lowing steam from it. “You really hate mulled wine that much?”

“It’s nonsense. Wine isn’t meant to be hot.”

“It’s delicious this way!”

“Most wine is supposed to be cooled, actually.” He continued his argument, one you’d had for all the years of your friendship before ever getting together, and you sip it with amusement as he raves on about taking you for the perfect glass of wine someday.

“Better not kiss me again, then.” You interrupt, and his head snaps to you, several chuckles from the boys who have gathered.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you hate mulled wine so much, I mean, because that’s all I’ll be drinking for the rest of the night.” You take another gulp, ignoring the heat of it, just to make your point, and licking stray droplets of the red from your lips, watching him track the movement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dolcezza. You know that I think wine always tastes its best when I suck it from your tongue.” 

You don’t have a chance to speak again, not before his mouth is crashing down against your own and making you squeak in shock, the cup in your hands jostled enough to send some of the hot liquid spilling across your fingers. When you gasp at the sensation, his tongue plunges into your mouth, licking his way in like he’s memorising you all over again, and making your legs shake at the urgency. He has so many ways of kissing, Theo does. The lazy kisses, the high kisses, the good morning and good night and ‘I need you right now’ kisses. 

This was different. This was ‘I love you’ and ‘shut up’ and passion all rolled into one, his fingertips digging into your body as he clung to you, pulling you so close that the spilt wine was no doubt soaking into his jumper and staining the green cotton. Pressing into him, you tried to return it, free hand slipping up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as his mouth enveloped your own. 

You almost dropped the glass in your hand, tingles shooting across every nerve you had just at the feeling of being near him. Falling for Theodore Nott had been one of the most intoxicating and reckless things you’d ever done. Everything had been just fine for years of friendship, years of laughter and jokes and hugs that never meant a thing, and then one day, the way you looked at him changed and your life had been flipped upside down. 

If you could go back and change things, you would. You’d make sure to go back and let it happen sooner.

“So?” Your breaths come out in shallow pants as he pulls away to leave delicate kisses across your cheeks, prolonging the moment. “What’s the verdict?”

“On what?” He whispered stupidly, voice devoid of any understanding at all, deep and raspy as he nuzzled his way into your hair. 

“I think we got mulled wine on your jumper.” Your own thoughts were just as hazy, just as blurred, and he backed away just enough to look down at the droplets, the liquid still staining your fingers.

Taking the glass from your hand, he placed it down on the mantlepiece beside the empty one, and brought your fingers to his lips. His eyes never left your own as he kissed and licked the wine away gently, sucking your skin clean and humming as he did, your lips parting but no words making their way out as Theo cleaned you up. 

“Oh…”

“I suppose it doesn’t taste that bad…” Your head shook at his joke, his fingers weaving through your own when he was done. With a snap of his fingers, the enchanted ladle was topping your glass up, and filling his own. “Come on, cara mia, let’s sit down.”

Theo led you to the couch, sinking into the plush leather cushions and pulling you down to join him. Conversation was flowing like rich honey around you both as you settled, leaning into Theo’s side, his hand tucked against your hip, rubbing softly. 

You sipped at your wine, letting the feeling take over, letting yourself drown in the blurry atmosphere of being with your closest friends and the love of your life. Enzo was telling a story between smokes, a story of the Weasley twins’ latest pranks that he’d managed to be witness to, and laughter filled the room just as much as words did, as he recounted the tale. 

Theo raised his glass to his lips again, your attention moving to him instead, his throat bobbing with every swig he took, and when he pulled the glass away, you wiped a stray droplet from his mouth, sucking it from your finger. He pinched your hip in response. 

“What happened to not liking mulled wine?” You teased as he clicked for the enchanted ladle, refilling both of your glasses, and his lips pressed together. 

“I still hate it, but I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Is what he settled on, despite taking an impatient sip while it was too hot and scrunching his face up as his tongue burned. It may be an insult to his ‘perfect wine tastes’, but you knew that deep down, he loved it. 

His hand moved to your thigh, rubbing up and down slowly. You hid your smirk in your drink, watching him grow more and more needy. It wasn’t long before he was lifting your legs up, twisting you to rest them across his lap. Taking pity on him and laying your arm over his shoulder, your hand moved to his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

It didn’t satisfy him for long, because only a few minutes into Blaise’s new debate with the boys, he was rubbing your thigh again. You offered a kiss, and another, but when his touches didn’t cease, you took his hand and moved it higher up. Tucking it against your upper thigh, you crossed your legs, trapping it steady between them and leaving a lingering kiss on the edge of his mouth. 

He squeezed your thigh, grateful for the increase in affection, and slumped a little more into the cushions, taking you with him. 

You drained your glass, adding your input to the story, and throwing in commentary as you went, between kisses shared with Theo, to keep him happy. 

That satisfaction didn’t last long, however, when his hand began sliding its way up your thigh further still, inch by inch, and his lips were tracing your neck as he once again lost track of the conversation. 

One drink down, two, halfway through a third glass each was when the lines became blurry enough that you didn’t mind your friends around so much anymore, but you did mind not having Theo’s tongue in your mouth. Clearly, he was just as affected, because as soon as your head twisted and your mouth closed over his, he was groaning happily, a grumble of ‘finally’, and leaning up to return the kiss with just as much vigour. 

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, a slow kiss that was just enough to drive you wild, your crossed legs clenching each time he sucked, each little sound he made, each gasping breath before he was back. His hand, sandwiched between your crossed thighs, was squeezing occasionally, fingers tracing tantalising touches onto your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Teddy…” You whispered, pulling back as your swollen lips stung from biting kisses, trailing your mouth over his jaw, peppering him with kisses as he bit back a moan at the feeling. You knew how much he loved it, how much he loved the way you’d lick at the hinge of his jaw, or the stretch as he tipped his head to the side to let you get at his neck. 

Theodore Nott was a man who loved PDA and touches, no doubt about it, and he made you feel loved up enough with a single smile to grant him more than his fair share of affection. 

“I missed you today.”

“You woke up in my arms this morning, dolcezza. We spent half the day together.” He whispered, and you pulled back with a frown, his head lazily tipping back to you and eyes refocusing as you deprived him of attention. “What?”

“Nothin’. I just…” Stroking a finger over his cheek, his head tipped into the touch, and he blinked up at you questioningly, waiting. “You didn’t miss me even a little bit?”

“No,” He murmured, your brows furrowing once again at the definitiveness of it. “Because you’re all I ever think about. I spent every minute getting ready to come back to you, and if that didn’t work, I started looking at your latest pictures. I can’t miss you when I know we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

The fracture in your chest healed up in a second, bursting with heat and love and adoration instead as you pressed your forehead to his own. “Really?”

“Of course, amore. Do you truly not know what you do to me? The effect you have on me?”

“About the same you do to me, I suspect.” Your words were whispered against his puckered lips, and you gave in, another series of tender kisses until he was smiling too wide to continue. 

“And what is it that I do to you? Tell me. I want to hear it all.”

“Oh, please don’t,” Draco whined, your head lifting to find him grimacing at you both as Blaise hid his laughter behind his hand. “I don’t think there’ll be any room left in here if Nott’s ego gets any bigger. If I have to listen to any more ‘I love you more’ ‘no, I love you more’ from you both, I’m going to be sick in the fireplace.”

“Don’t be bitter, Dray,” You teased, twisting to sit properly across Theo’s lap once again, your arm around his shoulders and your fingers in his hair, scratching at the base of his neck so that his eyes fluttered. “Just because you’re single at Christmas doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be miserable.”

“I’m not miserable, thank you very much. I’m free. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be shackled at the best time of the year.” Your laughter was hidden by Tom’s,  Mattheo’s and Blaise’s, and this only seemed to ignite the blond man more. “All Theodore does is whine and complain about whether he’s bought you enough Christmas presents, and if he picked a romantic enough card. Too stressful, I won’t do it.” 

“Y’know, ‘won’t’ is not the same as ‘can’t’.” Your tutting turned his cheeks red as the other boys all fell over the edge into hysterics. 

“She’s got you there, cousin.” Enzo teased, eyes red-rimmed and face a state of permanent relaxation from how much he’d smoked, but even he was sentient enough to tease Draco.

“I hate you all. I hope all your Christmas presents suck.” He scoffed, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away, and you pinched Theo’s chin, smacking a dramatic kiss on his cheek;

“I have all I want right here, Draco! But I’m the one that does the sucking, not that you’d know anything about that.”

He flipped you off, Theo’s hand tightening on your leg at the insinuation as Draco left to no doubt go and find one of his usual roster girls to nurse his ego back up to standards. “I’m holding you to that later, mi amore.”

“I should hope so, Teddy.” Uncrossing your legs from your seat across him and placing one wobbly foot on the floor, his hand slipped up from your thigh to you arse, stabilising you with a squeeze as he smirked to himself, watching you adjust the hem of your dress and turn to him. Taking his hand from your butt and weaving your fingers together, you tugged expectantly as he finished off his third glass of mulled wine, and then yours, too. “Dance with me?”

“If I ever say no to that question, I want you to avada me, okay?”

Staggering to his feet as you laughed, he let you tug him toward the centre of the room. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his own around your waist, and the two of you began to sway out of sync to the music, noses brushing and smiles matching as you revelled in the festive atmosphere. 

“It’s strange,” His words were quiet, and you offered only a questioning hum to his vague statement, stroking the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck soothingly. “Feels like we’ve always been like this. It doesn’t feel as new as it should. It doesn’t feel like we’ve only been together a few months. It feels like we have always been in love, just like this. It’s just… sembra il destino con te.”

You considered his words for a moment, letting them roll around in the blur of your mind. “Fate?” You whispered eventually, and the glow of the smile that broke his face as the few Italian words you’d been picking up on rang clear. 

“Yes, mi amore. Fate. It feels like fate with you.”

“I love you, Theodore Nott.”

“I love you more, (y/n) Nott.” He teased, lips sealing over yours in a promise that one day that name would be true. Your heart skipped a beat, your swaying continuing as you pulled yourself up a little closer, leaning into him for support to continue the kiss. Theo was everything, everything you needed and never knew. “Good thing Draco wasn’t here to hear that.”

“He’ll find this one day.” You stole another kiss, and another as Theo leaned in to meet you halfway, his hand sliding up your arm to clasp with your own. Lifting one hand away from his shoulder, Theo took a real step now, swirling you in a proper dance as he held your joint hands out, and giggles burst free as he began to twirl you around the room. 

Weaving between furniture and friends, Regulus barely had a chance to snatch his legs out of the way from where they rested on the cluttered coffee table before Theo was waltzing you past him, stumbling around the room in a clumsy mess of loving and drunken movements. 

Suddenly, over the top of the music in the room, came the baritone voice of one highly inebriated Blaise Zabini, crooning the lyrics to ‘All I Want For Christmas’. You smiled, joining him with the lyrics, then Mattheo and Theo and Enzo too, as the boys hunted for the tucked-away karaoke microphones that had been hidden in one of the cupboards. 

With no batteries and no purpose, one was thrust into your hand. Just like that, you found yourself dancing the span of the room with all of them, belting the incorrect lyrics to any Christmas song you could think of between laughs and swigs of drinks. 

Mattheo dropped first, out of breath and lay across a whole couch with a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, and a blunt in the other. Theo stood beside him, lifting Mattheo’s limp hand up every so often to steal a drag. 

He occasionally added the words, mostly happy to stand with his arm around your waist as you danced against him, aiming all the particularly romantic lyrics his way with a smile. 

“Well, someone has a little too much holiday cheer, huh?” Pansy emerged again, with suspiciously swollen lips and a dazed-looking Luna on her arm. Though, Luna could also just have eaten a few too many of those brownies she brought too, you think…

“What can I say?” You said through panted breaths, the carol still playing in the background as Blaise and Enzo continued to butcher the Christmas classic without you. “My true love gave it to me. How goes your evening, Pans?”

Her eyes widened for a fraction, before narrowing into a glare at your insinuation, and Luna only giggled. “Our evening has been going quite well, has it not, Pansy?”

“‘Course it has, Loons.” She mumbled, tightening her arm around the smaller girl’s waist, and guiding her towards the couches. When Luna couldn't see, she stuck her tongue out at you, and you pouted to hide your laughter, shoulders shaking in a betrayal.

“Your true love, huh?” Theo questioned from behind, making you jump in shock, and you turned around to swat at his chest. 

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, Nott.”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head at your antics, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips before you could swerve away. “I’m getting bored of this party now. How about you come and show me a little more of that true love back at my dorm?”

“Lead the way.”

“So you can stare at my arse the whole time?” He chastised, but took your hand in his own, beginning to lead you both back through the crowds, your departure covert before anyone could make you stay. 

“The quidditch training does you well, what can I say?” Leaning forward to pinch him as he walked, he almost stumbled over a step, reaching behind himself to grab at your wrist, tugging you around to his side as he scowled. His cheeks were red, but there was a grin he was trying to hide, shining his eyes, and it broke free after another second. 

“You’re a menace.”

“You do this to me, what can I do? You drive me crazy, Teddy.”

“Don’t say things like that to me unless you want me to bend you over that drinks table right now.” He muttered, the words tumbling from his lips like he was reading off a shopping list, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest as a shock of heat raced down your spine. “I can’t get you back to my dorm any faster than this, but you’re testing my strength.”

He began to push through the crowds with even more force, no longer polite as he wove but simply pushing his way through any gaps or spaces, dragging you behind him until he was ushering you up the stairs. Through the cold halls, the music dulled and faded to nothing but a distant throb of the bass, and even that was sealed out to nothing as he closed his dorm door, locking it with a spell. 

Pressing him back into the wood, Theo was happy to go with your movements, pliant to your every wish as the bliss of the night continued to blanket you both. Your lips met his, a simple kiss he hardly had a chance to return before you were kissing at his cheek, his jaw, down in a trail along his neck, and over his covered chest. 

Sinking to your knees before him, a shot of cold raced across your skin from the cool stones of the floor. He looked down at you, fingers brushing tangling into your hair, and smirking as he held it out of your way. 

Your fingers began tugging at his belt in return, undoing it and slipping the leather out of the loops, he let out a happy sigh. Slumping further against the wood, you tugged at his jeans, mouthing every inch of exposed skin along his hip bones as they slid down, boxers too, his already hard cock bouncing up to smack across your cheek. 

Hot, wet skin throbbed against your face, and you turned, tongue out and dragging along the length of his dick, before swirling around the tip. He hissed through his teeth, eyes dark and half-lidded as he stared down at you, that serious expression that always made you weak in the knees melting away to something else. 

“Oh, you’re going to let Santa come down your chimney, dolcezza?”

Even in a moment like this, with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Theo managed to make a joke, your laughter muffled against him as you pulled back, and his own laugh was cut off by a moan at the feeling. His hips bucked, tip prodding at your lips as you grinned up at him, pinching his thigh for his poor excuse of a joke and terrible timing. Surely, you thought, you should be turned off or angry, something other than complete love filing you as he made jokes right now. Instead, it only made you feel more for him, his goofy nature behind closed doors that only you got to see, his sweet and funny and silly side that was hidden from most of the world. It was all part of what made him.

Somehow, his stupid jokes turned you on even more, a twisting in your stomach like snowflakes in a storm, your thighs clenching together. So, you matched his energy. If sexy Christmas puns were what he wanted, you’d certainly win. 

“Will I get a white Christmas this year?”

Licking the underside of him, from balls to tip, he let out a throaty groan, angling your head with the hand in your hair and sinking himself deep enough to make you gag, never taking his eyes away from your lips. “Oh, we’ll paint it white.”

His gaze stayed glued to your mouth, watching as he set a slow pace, controlling the bobbing of you up and down his cock. Only half in, and he was already beginning to fray at the edges, fixated on watching himself disappear in and out of your mouth. Taking him by surprise, you pushed a little further, all the way until you gagged and more, swallowing as much of him as you could until tears were pricking at your eyes. 

Again and again you let him take over, just to snatch it away when he least expected it, driving him over the edge, until he was muttering curses in Italian and throbbing in your mouth. Again, you took him down, deep until you couldn't breathe for the weight of him in your airways, and he fisted at your hair hard enough to burn.

Your throat flexed around him, swallowing and wet as spit gathered at the edges of your mouth, stretched around his considerable girth. Only when your lungs burned for breath did you pull back, gasping and messy as you stared up at him. “Santo fanculo, tesoro. La tua piccola bocca calda sarà la mia morte.”

“Turns me on when you talk dirty to me in Italian, Theo.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, hand cupping your throat, one thumb under your chin to tip your head up, and with a wink, he spat onto your waiting tongue. “Ingoialo, perché qualsiasi altra cosa ti do sta andando in quello stretto poco fica.”

A whimper slipped free, and he tugged you up by the fistful of your hair, uncaring of where your mouth had just been as he smashed his against it, tongue forcing into your mouth and kissing you so hard you could barely stand. Stripping himself the rest of the way, he made quick work of your own clothes, between keeping up with your kisses, and leaving his own collection of marks on your neck, Theo had you both naked and gasping in record time. 

“I love unwrapping my presents,” He whispered into the flesh of your breasts, tugging you down into his lap as he sat, your hips rocking against his wet cock, mixing with your juices as he bumped against your clit with every movement. “Told you those stockings would look better on my floor.”

“God, just kiss me, Theo. Before you make me lose my mind.” Your hands were on his cheeks, tugging his face back up, and he was muttering a spell as your lips met. Using his nose to nudge your attention upwards instead. He took a nipple into his mouth as you leaned back, staring up at the small green plant he had conjured above you both, and giggling through a moan as he scraped his teeth across the bud. “Is that mistletoe?”

“But, of course, mi amore. It was the one thing missing.”

Flicking your gaze over the room, you took in the mess of Christmas decorations the pair of you had put up. You’d taken to decorating his dorm like it was decorating your first house together, celebrating your first Christmas as a couple. 

A small, wonky Christmas tree sat on the dresser, a garland over the window, a wreath on the outside of the door and lights woven onto the headboard of his bed, flashing a myriad of colours on his profile now that only made him more beautiful. 

Smoothing back the hair from his face to see him fully, you pecked his lips, and again, “I love it.”

“Anything to make you happy.” His words were cheesy, but so smoothly spoken in such a deep voice that you shuddered nonetheless, and his eyes sparkled. “What else do you desire, my love? You’re already in my lap, so why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Pausing your rocking, you shuffled back just enough, dragging a nail down his chest and between your bodies, cupping his balls and giving them a squeeze in your palm as his mouth dropped open, and eyes rolled back. “Why, you got a present for me in your sack, huh?”

He was groaning and laughing at the same time, his face buried in your neck as you continued your ministrations, his whole body tight and every muscle locked as you did, until he was shaking, unable to take it any longer. “That’s what you want? It’s all yours. How do you want to take it?”

“Let me go for a ride, be your vixen.”

He bit at the juncture of your neck, before lifting his head, eyes playing out a plan as he looked to you. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some different uses for these lights… interested?”

“Always.” You breathed, letting him twist you around with ease, until you were on your back amongst the pillows, arms being stretched above your head, and thrill racing through your body like a new high as you felt the wires and lights coil around your wrists. With a test tug, they pinched at your wrists, leaving you strung up to his headboard like nothing more than a decoration yourself, and he whistled at his work as he pulled back to admire you. 

Spreading your legs apart for himself, he settled onto his stomach, and anticipation overtook you in waves. Squirming on the bed before him, Theo chuckled to himself, blowing a stream of cool air onto your clit, making you squeal. “You look better than a whole fuckin’ feast. Look at you…”

He licked a single, firm stripe across your core, lapping up everything that had gathered so far, tongue parting your folds, and prodding at your clit as he did. When your hips bucked up to follow his face, legs crooking and feet planted on the bed, he placed a hand flat across your hips, pinning you down. 

“Be a good girl and have some patience.”

Your whimper spurred him on, back in again and again, until the noises he was dragging from you were closer to cries and sobs. He teased at your entrance, dipping his tongue inside just enough to drive you wild before pulling back and focusing his attention on the needy bud between your legs. Sucking and nipping, he dragged you to the brink, all before pulling back and leaving you hanging, marking your thighs with his bites and bruises. 

Again and again he played, until you were a writhing mess under his hands, tugging at the wires holding you down, desperately rocking against his face as his arms wrapped under your legs. And only then, did he give in. Just like that, every light touch became demanding, every teasing drag became more like a punishment, as Theo took what he really wanted. 

Screams of his name from your lips bouncing off the worlds, your juices a mess on his face as you came, and he wouldn't let up. Pleasure so intense it blinded you, an orgasm tearing through you, your body spasming from the sensations, back arching, and his only response was to slide two fingers into you and abuse your clit as he scissored them.

Sobs became wails, your voice cutting out and catching as you panted for breath you could no longer drag into your lungs, all as he traced filthy words and claims onto your body with his mouth, while pressing to that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. 

“Oh, Theo— fuck, baby, I can’t—”

“You will.” He murmured, a third finger slipping in, and your body went taut, hips leaving the bed entirely as you seized, a second orgasm tearing through you and juices gushing as he kept his pace, riding you through the high and over the crest of it. He took everything you had to give him, cheeks shining and eyes locked on your movements, you could feel the burn of his stare into your skin, branding you as his as he almost killed you with his mouth. “Una ragazza cosí brava cazzo per me.”

As soon as he pulled away, your thighs snapped shut, your trembling body collapsing against the mattress as you gasped for breath. “H-Holy shit, Teddy.”

“Good?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who just had you begging for mercy, is it?” He tutted, pushing your knees apart, the cool air in the room sweeping across your still soaked core as you continued to leak, no doubt dripping onto the expensive silk sheets he owned. “Perhaps you no longer deserve my mercy.”

“Let me at least catch my breath,” You muttered, one of his hands coming to land beside your head as he leaned over you, the other pulling your leg up onto his hips. Brushing his lips across your own lovingly, you smiled, puckering them for a kiss,

“No.”

With that, Theo slammed himself into you, your eyes rolling back as your still fluttering walls were forced to accommodate his length, your core twisting so tight you thought you might come again just like that, feeling him slide deeper and deeper, all the way, until your hips were sat snugly together. Your fingers became fists, jerking at the lights and rattling them on the headboard as your instinct to cling to him, to tear his back apart with your scratches took over. 

Instead you were restrained, all you could do was cling to him with your legs, return his eager kisses as best you could, head spinning, utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of being his. He gave you a chance to adjust, at least, his own face screwed tightly. Shallow pants on his lips as he steadied himself not to burst right away, and you made sure he struggled, clenching around him and rolling your hips into him until he had to hold you down. 

“Stop teasing me,”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your denial was useless, his glare said everything, that he knew you were lying, and he would make you pay for it, too.

“Oh, you’re a vixen, alright. Piccola troia.”

“That’s right,” You whisper onto his lips, “But I’m your little slut.” 

Just like every time you understood his first language, his eyes lit up, sparking with fire and adoration as you claimed him like he’d claimed you, lips searing as you kissed him. His hips began to move, in rhythm with your kisses and picking up speed. 

Every thrust of his hips has the breath knocked from your lungs, stretched out and full of him in the most perfect way. Before you’d been together, your sexual experiences had been limited and disappointing, and your first time with Theo made you realise just how good sex could be. It didn’t matter how or when, whether it was bent over a table in the back of the library with his fingers in your mouth to keep quiet, or in the astronomy tower, high and lazy, it was always so good. 

But this,

This was something else. This was mindblowing, your toes curling as he pounded into you, taking you to new heights of pleasure. His skin was slick, as was your own, sliding together perfectly as you shared breaths, foreheads pressed together, no longer even having the strength to kiss, nothing but the movements of your bodies. 

“You’re so fuckin’ good, tesoro. So perfect for me.” His praise covered you like a blanket, only adding to the way you felt, helping build you higher and higher toward the orgasm that would blow the others out of the water. 

“Oh, Teddy…”

“Yeah, you feel good?” One extra sharp thrust, your nails digging into your palms, and you began to roll your body up desperately into his own, searching for a release that would leave you in bliss for hours to come. “I love to make you feel good, you make me feel so good too.”

“So good, Theo. So big,” Your words were strained, eyes rolling back, and he licked his way across your mouth, a cheap and lousy kiss that barely counted, but it gave you enough of a taste of him to explode, Shaking as you came, your body was out of your control, more and more as your orgasm kept going. 

His pace faltered, the way you screamed his name enough to make anyone feel dizzy, a dazed smile on his face as it reached his ears. One, two, three more thrusts and he was collapsing down onto you, shuddering against your body as he smothered you, moaning your name with hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he came. 

His cock twitched between your walls, filling you up deep inside and making your jaw drop open just at the feel of it. He was still going as he pulled back, pulled out, the last of his load dripping down your folds and into the bed sheets, leaving you shuffling at the feeling, your whole body still reeling in the after-effects. 

He pushed sweaty hair out of his face, staring down at you and admiring the mess he had made you into. 

Your legs were still shaking as he leaned over to untie you, his own fingers a little unsteady and weak as he worked, freeing one wrist and kissing it softly on the red-marked skin. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do without orgasms like that for two whole weeks?” You sighed, and his laughter erupted from him in a burst so hard he almost collapsed down on top of you with the suddenness of it. You could only smile up at him as he stared down at you, hovering over your face and trying to calm his amusement. “What?”

“I was trying to be romantic just now,” He chastised, the blow never hitting, and he worked on freeing your other wrist, and kissing that one too. When you had the use of both arms back, you propped yourself up as best you could, watching as he wandered away to retrieve a cloth. “You could always send me sexy letters in the post about all the things you think about, and I’ll make them all come true when we get back.”

He reappeared in the room, and you raised your brows. “Oh, you want a wish-list of all my sexy, nonsense fantasies, huh?”

“I want literally nothing more than a sex bucket-list with you.” A quick cleaning charm, and a soothing swipe of the cool, damp fabric between your thighs, and then he was crawling back up the bed, collapsing down amongst the blankets to rest his head on your chest as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His head bounced with your residual giggles, his arms circling your waist as best they could, snuggling into you as you lined the top of his head with kisses. “I love you, cara mia. You’re all that was on my wish-list this year.”

“I love you more, Teddy.” Another kiss, to his forehead as he looked up to you, a devoted smile on his face. “You’re everything I could ever wish for.”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Ice Skating | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 2.6k

four times you go ice skating with Juraj and the one time you actually fall

Four 

“Will you please tell me where we’re going?” you beg the young Slovak as he covers your eyes, weaving in and out of the crowd and leading you closer to your unknown destination. 

“We’re almost there,” he promises and you roll your eyes but smile while he continues to lead you. 

“Ready?” he asks, stopping the two of you and leaning close so you can hear him. You nod and when Juraj finally drops his hands, you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. 

You stand at the edge of Rockefeller Center, the rink lit up by Christmas lights, a gorgeously decorated tree acting as a backdrop to the whole scene. You watch as families skate together, couples holding hands and exchanging soft lovelorn looks at each other. You turn to Juraj and he smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Are we ice skating?” you ask, the location finally truly dawning on you. 

“Uhm, yes?” he answers unsure. 

“If I slip on the ice, it’s totally your fault,” you say, holding up an accusing finger towards your best friend. 

“I’ve got you princezná. I won’t let you fall.” 

Juraj leads you over to the counter and rents two pairs of skates. You grab a seat at the bench and Juraj laces his skates up. You pull yours on as well, attempting to pull the laces tight but ultimately failing. Juraj watches with soft heart filled eyes, adoration clear in his features. 

“moja láska,” he murmurs and your eyes flicker over to him. “Do you need help?” 

You nod shyly and Juraj smiles widely, bending down in front of you on one knee and pulling the laces tight. His hands work on their own accord, his mind wandering to a scene where he’s on one knee for a different reason, asking you a question and praying you say yes. 

“Juraj?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his face and watching as he snaps himself out of the trance he’s in. 

“All done,” he smiles, standing and offering his hand to you. 

You take it, instantly wobbling awkwardly on the skates and the both of you share a shy smile. Juraj helps you over to the entrance of the rink and steps in with ease. He takes both your hands and helps you onto the rink where you look at him with fear filled eyes. 

“I got you princezná,” he reminds you and you smile nervously. 

You take a step and your heart flips, the unfamiliar territory scaring you more than it should. Juraj skates backwards with ease and you can’t help but admire the way he glides on the ice. 

With your focus on him, you’re able to calm down and look around you at the New York City skyline. Your face lights up as you look at the perfectly decorated tree, the couples and families skating around you with smiles on their faces and laughter filling the air. 

Juraj can’t help but think you look utterly ethereal. 

“Think you can loosen your grip now?” Juraj jokes and when you look back towards him the glint in his eye makes your heart race. 

Three

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Juraj asks, putting away the last dish and turning towards you. 

“Not that I can think of. Why?” 

“It’s family skate at the rink tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” 

Juraj’s question shocks you a bit. Family skate was usually the guys who are married and those with kids, sometimes the guys with their girlfriends or the guys just coming to stop by and say hi. 

“But I’m not family?” is the only thing you can think to say at this moment and Juraj smiles like you’re missing the whole point of it. 

“Princezná, you’re more important than family,” he murmurs and your eyes search his and find genuine love in them. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Juraj picks you up the next day and you head over to the Bell Centre for the family skate. He grabs you an extra pair of skates and is in the middle of tying them for you when Josh Anderson walks by. 

“Don’t know how to tie your skates darling?” he jokes and when he stops near you you jokingly shove him away. 

“Fuck off Andy,” you quip and you watch as both him and Juraj collapse into giggles. 

Juraj finishes tying your skates and with a tap to your thigh you’re standing and wobbling awkwardly all over again. This time it’s a bit easier, you can at least walk towards the ice without too much help but when you’re on the ice, you’re clutching Juraj’s hands again like your life depends on it. 

“(y/n)! I’ve lapped you three times in the past 2 minutes,” Kaiden calls out to you and you let go of Juraj to flip him off. 

“Let’s go grandma!” Cole joins and you shoot him a glare. 

“Ignore them,” Juraj reminds you and you smile as you look back over at him. 

He starts to instruct you on how to push off and skate forward and you hang on his every word. He lets go of one of your hands and you carefully push off, gripping his hand tightly. 

“You’re doing it!” Juraj cheers and your heart flushes at his praise. 

Juraj’s teammates and their families watch the two youngsters with soft gazes, thinking the scene was adorable. 

“Are they dating?” Josh’s girlfriend turns to ask and Josh smiles, shaking his head. 

“Not yet,” he says, slightly rolling his eyes but happy to see you and Juraj so close. 

Two 

“Come on Jakey!!” you scream and Juraj laughs lightly next to you. 

“Oh be quiet,” you joke, shoving him as you sit down. 

Your little brother has been begging you to bring your famous hockey playing best friend (his words not yours) to one of his hockey games. You finally found a day where Juraj was free and Jake was playing a game and dragged your best friend along with you. Jake was playing well, but his team was still losing and with the final ring of the bell, the game ends 2-1. 

“Come on,” you say, grabbing Juraj’s hand and pulling him along to the locker room. 

You wait outside, greeting other teammates of your brother and their families, until your brother finally makes his way out. You look him over and see that he’s still wearing his skates but has changed out of the rest of his gear. 

“Buddy, what are you doing?” you ask when Jake finally greets you and Juraj. 

“Can we stay and skate?” he asks nervously and you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips. 

“Of course.” 

You and Juraj grab a pair of rental skates each before heading out on the ice. Juraj sticks by your side for the beginning before Jake pulls him away to ask for tips on his skating. You cling to one of the walls, watching as Juraj stands in front of your brother and explains his foot positioning. Jake listens patiently, something he wasnt always good at, and butterflies decide to kick up in your stomach at the sight of the two of them. 

“Ready?” you hear Juraj ask and you watch as Jake nods and the two stand side by side. 

Juraj counts down from three and one he hits one, the two of them rush off across the ice in an impressive blur of speed. You watch as Jake takes the advantage and you know deep down, Juraj is letting him win in their little race. Your smile grows even wider at the thought, Juraj purposefully letting the young boy win. 

“Prekliatie, Jake you’re faster than me,” Juraj says, dropping his hands onto his knees and breathing heavily to show how “tired” he was. 

“I think you should replace Juraj in the line up tomorrow Jakey,” you call and the two boys turn and smile at you. 

Juraj grins, tossing a wink in your direction before heading off to skate with your younger brother again. 

One 

How and why your best friend decided to rent out an entire sports complex for her birthday party will continue to remain a mystery to you. She could have gone anywhere in Montreal but she decided on a place with ice skating, laser tag, arcades, golfing, bowling, and more for her party. 

Naturally, you dragged Juraj with you, knowing that you would probably only know your best friend at this party and didn’t want to spend the time alone. The two of you got there early, greeting your best friend and her boyfriend at the entrance of the sports center. 

“Happy birthday!!” you greet her excitedly, leaning forward to hug your best friend. 

“Come on!” She says, dragging you into the building, Juraj and her boyfriend trailing behind. “I wanna go ice skating.” 

The four of you grab rental skates and head out onto the ice together. Just like before, Juraj is slow and careful with you, helping you to skate around the rink. You make it a lap and a half in before you see your best friend exiting the rink with her boyfriend behind her. 

“Hey!” you call out and she turns and smiles sheepishly. 

“Sorry!” she yells back before rushing away. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to Juraj with a look that says ‘can you believe her?’ and the younger boy just shrugs and smiles at you. 

“Well, as long as we’re here,” you say, trying your best to slow down on the ice. “Wanna teach me how to stop?” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” he asks and you lean forward, swatting at his arm. 

“Of course I am!” you declare but quickly lose balance, reaching out for him and he chuckles as you regain your balance. 

“Anyway,” you murmur and Juraj laughs lightly under his breath. 

He turns on his skates, holding his hands out to you which you happily take and he smiles encouragingly at you. 

“So, the way you stop is on your edges,” he explains, showing the sides of his skate and digging them into the ice so he stops moving. 

“If you’re skating forward, you want to turn your body and push your outside leg out and lean.”

He takes a second to show you what he means, letting go and skating for a second before stopping on his edges. You nod when he pauses, committing his movements to memory. 

“You try,” he tells you. 

You take a nervous deep breath, skating forward a couple of inches before attempting to come to a stop before Juraj. Your legs however shake too much beneath you and you start to fall. Juraj is quicker, catching your arms and hauling you up into them. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, looking up at him and it strikes you how close the two of you are. 

“All good,” he replies, his arms coming to move around your waist. 

Your eyes search his, heat blooming throughout your body and for a moment the two of you simply gaze at each other, uncertain what to do next. 

“Are you two coming or what?” 

You both turn to see your best friend waving you over and you sigh, thinking how close yet how far you were from making a move. 

“Let’s go.” 

And One 

You swear it’s been weeks since you saw Juraj at your best friend’s birthday party. Therefore, you were ecstatic when he called and asked if you could pick him up from practice so the two of you could hang out afterwards. You show up a little later than practice ends, knowing Juraj’s tendency to stay late and work with one of the coaches while everyone has already left the ice. 

You make your way through the back and up towards the tunnel, greeting those you see along the way. Just as you’re heading up to the bench, you pass Martin St. Louis and he greets you with a warm smile. 

“Always good to see you darling,” he tells you and you smile shyly. “Juraj is still on the ice if you’re looking for him.” 

You smile and thank him before walking up and out onto the bench. Marty is right, Juraj stands a few feet away from the goal, practicing shot after shot and you stand there for a moment and simply take in his form. His love for the game and determination to get better at it every day was one of the many reasons you had grown impossibly in love with him. He put 110% effort into everything he did and you admired that kind of work ethic in him. 

“Looking good 20!” you yell out and Juraj turns around on the ice, grinning madly when he sees you standing at the bench. 

“Sorry,” he says, skating over to you. “Pretty sure this is a closed practice.” 

“Come on. Grab some skates and get out here.”

“Juraj,” you whine and he turns those big brown eyes towards you. The ones that are impossible to say no to. 

“5 minutes? Please? Just wanna spend some time with you on the ice,” he murmurs.

You sigh quietly and Juraj instantly tells you where to grab some extra skates. Your heart pounds as you replay his words in your head. You can’t help the smile that crops up on your lips as he ties your skates and helps you out onto the ice. Somehow, Juraj was always taking care of you, a trait you so loved about him and prayed stayed with him. 

As always, Juraj starts off with holding your hands making sure you’re comfortable first before letting go and skating by your side with practiced ease. The two of you exchange small talk as you skate and Juraj’s heart fills with pride realizing he was the one who taught you how to skate. The one who has made sure you won’t fall. The one you’ve trusted. 

He moves to skate backwards in front of you, grinning like he has just won the lottery. 

“What?” you ask, his gaze making you flustered. 

“You’re doing amazing,” he compliments and your body flushes in warmth at his praise. 

“Well thank you,” you say and just as you’re about to add on that it’s all thanks to him, your skate hits a rough patch of ice. 

You instantly lose your balance, a small shriek escaping your lips as you fall forward. Your hands instantly reach out for him and Juraj is quick to react, catching you and hauling you up into him like he did so many weeks ago. 

He forces the two of you to a stop, your hands coming to rest feebly against his chest while his arms stay wrapped around your waist. You look up, a sheepish smile on your face as Juraj sports a self righteous grin on his face that makes you laugh. 

“Spoke too soon, huh?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“Oh shut up,” you murmur. 

“Gladly,” he hums. 

He leans down and finally connects the two of you, lips molding in perfect unison as you press against each other on the cold ice. You’re thankful for the grip Juraj has on you because your knees are suddenly weakened by his lips on yours. You break apart for air and Juraj grins down at you and you take a deep breath to control the happy laughter that wants to break free from you.

“Wanna keep skating?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“No, I think it’s time for us to head home.” 

“Whatever you say moja láska,” he says, kissing the side of your head and leading the two of you off the ice.

[theorphicangel]

“𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

[ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

tags: strangers to lovers, roommate au!, best friends brother, fluff, mutual pining, smut, 18+

synopsis: In a desperate search of a new roommate, you have little to no choice but to accept your best friend's / best barista in the world's offer of letting his older brother rent out the room, who just so happens to be conventionally attractive.

You swear nothing will happen between the two of you but one thing eventually leads to another and you find yourself in his bed, leading to an unofficial roommates with benefits situation.

You know deep down it's wrong and you're worried when you start catching feelings...but it's okay because it's only temporary, right?

séries | previous chapter | next chapter

chapter two: two turtle doves (that awkwardly get along)

You were right about not expecting to receive a reply from Gabriel.

You had actually tried to call him a few times, yet it ended up going to voicemail. Your best bet would be that he actually turns up for work today.

On returning back to your apartment last night, you had tried the best you could to remind yourself that you were living in an empty space again. Remembering to not make a meal for two, remembering to switch off the lights, remembering not to turn your head searching for someone to listen to the random thought that had just popped up in your head. It was hard. You couldn’t lie about that.

But with it especially being the holiday season, you can’t help but feel the prickles of loneliness brush up at your skin as you skim through the shows and movies to watch, with all the recommended Christmas romance movies popping up on the home page. Being petty, you turned off the tv and decided to give yourself an early night.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’ve decided to decorate your apartment this upcoming weekend for Christmas. Due to MJ’s moving you would’ve had it done all up last week, but instead you were focused on helping her pack during her last few days at the apartment.

Checking the time, it’s currently 8:15am and you’re on your way to O’Hara’s. As you stroll down the busy streets of New York city, you can’t help but cross your fingers and pray to the gods above that Gabriel is in for his shift today. You don’t think you could really stand another cup of terrible coffee, no matter how compassionate you’re feeling.

Stepping into O’hara’s, the familiar ding of the bell above the door announces your arrival. Once again, it’s a small queue and you can’t help but notice the familiar cheery tone of the barista which most certainly contrasts the rough, bored voice which you had heard yesterday.

A wave of relief fills your body as you move to the front of the queue, a smile spreading across your lips.

“Buenos días.” Gabriel greets with a smile, “Did ya’ miss me yesterday?”

“Pftttttt of course not.” you murmur. “It’s not like I’d much rather the new barista yesterday who had made the world’s worst cup of coffee word to man– I don’t even know if I can call that a coffee.” you grunt, pulling a disgusted face.

Gabriel lets out a loud laugh as he taps in your regular into the till without even asking you. “You must be talking about my brother, Miguel, m’sorry about that, he was called in as an emergency. We’re low on staff.”

Your face drops at Gabriel’s words. “Your brother?! Oh shit m’sorry—”

Gabriel waves his hand at you, stopping you mid sentence. “Don’t be, we all know he’s shit. Mama couldn’t find a replacement at the last minute so she was desperate.”

“And it was an emergency?” you repeat, crossing your arms as you look him up and down.

“It’s not my fault that I got forcefully dragged to a bar against my own free will!” He exclaims. “It was bottomless Wednesday!”

You hum in response not really believing him. “So that was really your brother then?” Grabiel nods.

At the sounds of footsteps behind him, Gabriel turns his head and then quickly turns back.

“Oh, speaking of the diablo.” He mutters before calling out to his brother. “Oi Miggy, no vas a creer lo que esta chica dijo de ti." [you won’t believe what this girl said about you]

“¿Qué?”

“That you’re shit at making coffee.”

“If you’re gonna continue complaining about me then I’m not coming in to help you next time, Gabi.”

“I’ll tell mama.”

“Uh–huh.” Miguel hums in an unbelieving tone.

Now that you had Miguel standing next to his brother, you could really see their similarities and you almost wanted to kick yourself for not spotting it beforehand. They were almost the spitting image of each other, though Gabi was a little shorter and Miguel seemed to be like a total gym rat in comparison.

Miguel now looks at you, deadpanned as he was the previous day. “I’m sorry about the coffee yesterday—”

“Oh no worries, it was fine.” you lied.

“I mean, it would’ve been better if someone had actually taught me how to use the machines.” Miguel says.

“It’s common sense in my opinion.” Gabi replies hastily.

“Good thing no one asked you for your opinion.”

“Ay, callate.”

“Whatever.” Miguel trails off to the backrooms, tired of the conversation, muttering the excuse that more oat milk is needed.

“Ignore him. He’s a dick but you’ll get used to it once you’re around him more.”

“Is he working here permanently?” you ask, curious about the mysterious older brother, “You never spoke much about him, Gabi.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t around a lot. He was at university doing his post-graduate degree at Stanford Uni–”

“Stanford?” you practically shout out the word, a few heads turn in the cafe to look at you.

“Hey, keep your voice down.” Gabi warns. “But yeah, yeah, studying genetics or whatever he’s obsessed with at the moment. He’s moved back in with us…in fact that’s what I wanted to tell you—”

“Hold on, hold on, you can’t just move away from the fact that your brother just graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in the country.”

“He got a funding grant–”

“A funding gran–”

“Shhhh!”

You mouth the words, “fucking hell.” to yourself.

“Yep, he’s truly raising the standard for the family.” Gabriel awkwardly chuckles. “It’s weird having him around after being gone for so long but…” Gabriel looks back through the door to the backroom, there’s a sound of things falling and spanish curses which echo from the storage room. “I’m glad he’s back and so is mama, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

You hum along, your expression becoming soft. “Just make sure you teach him how to make good coffee now.” Gabriel chuckles loudly at your comment.

You turn your head and scan the cafe. Your eyes widen. Today, it seems will be a good day as your favorite spot in the corner is available today. Making your way over Gabriel doesn’t take long to come over with your drink.

“Anyways chica, I saw your missed calls and—”

“Oh, did you?” You say aloud sarcastically, playfully swatting him on the arm, “And you didn’t think to be bothered to reply to me? After three years of my loyal friendship this is how you repay me?”

“Okay, one: ow!” He pointed a finger at you. “And two: it wasn’t like that. It was bottomless Wednesday and don’t reprimand me because I’ve already had that from my mother and my brother.”

“Serves you right.” you snort.

“As I was saying, if you’d ever let me speak.” he says, still wincing. “I have good news and bad news regarding your roommate situation.”

“Oh…”

“So, what do you want first, the good news or the bad?” Gabriel offers.

You take a sip of your coffee first as you debate.

“The good news first please.”

“I found you a roommate.”

“Really?!” you exclaimed, your face lighting up with excitement. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“As serious as I can be.” Gabriel wincing again as you hit his arm. “You really have to stop doing that to me.”

“Maybe I can forgive you for ignoring me yesterday.“ you mutter to yourself, a smile now tugging at your lips. “So what’s the bad news?” You’d think that after hearing that good news you can barely think how you would even be affected by the bad news now.

Gabriel points back to the counter, where Miguel stands serving another customer. His face is currently in a state of pure confusion, as his fingers aggressively tap at the till.

“That’s your new roommate.”

Your face dropped as Gabriel’s words sunk in.

“Are you–”

“Serious? Yes, yes I am.” He exhales. “But look, he really needs someone to cheer him up.” You raise a brow at his sentence.

“Listen, but you didn’t hear this from me so this stays between us, okay?” Gabriel held out his pinky finger in front of you.

“Okay.” your promise, not hesitating to join your own pinky finger with his. Gabriel twists a little, as if to seal the promise for definite.

“He wasn’t really meant to come back at all, not even for the Christmas period. It was just random. His roommate back in California moved out and he had no choice but to move back with us because the rent is so skyhigh over there— but anyways, his girlfriend also broke up with him and he never really said why but I just think she can’t be bothered going long distance. Buttttt to be honest who would? Miggy is so boring over text, like I don’t even think he can understand the meaning of emojis–”

“Wait, so he needs a place to stay?” You interrupt, your brain trying to process all this information.

Gabriel nods, “And for someone to cheer him up!” he adds. “Pleaseeeeee, you’d be doing a really big favor for me, it’s so awkward between him and my mom, they’ve barely spoken since he’s moved back in. In fact since he left for uni I’m not even sure that they spoke at all. But please get this tension away from me.”

“What makes you think that I’ll be able to cheer him up?”

Just from looking at him you could already tell that he's a grinch. Totally miserable. A total opposite to what you had with MJ.

“Because you’re you andddd it’s only temporary. That’s another piece of good news actually. By New Year's he’ll probably find a place of his own.”

You wince as you repeat the word. “Temporary.” Another roommate who’s ready to leave before even signing the lease.

“I know that he’s not the ideal roommate but it’s just something for now whilst you look for someone a little bit more permanent.”

You hum at him in agreement. It does take the stress of your back for now….what’s the worst that could happen?

“Por favor, ¿para mí, mi dulce mujer?” Gabriel pulls the one trick move that you can’t resist.

[please, for me, my sweet woman]

The puppy dog eyes.

You let out a sigh as he stares at you, curling his bottom lip which makes you roll your eyes even more.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

/

“Do you want help with that?”

You wince at Miguel carrying four large boxes in one hand. You can’t see his face, his large veiny hands gripping the bottom stack of the boxes.

“No, gracias.” he mumbles, managing to lug them all to his room without a struggle. You knew he was a…big guy, but you still felt uncomfortable at his refusal for your help. Miguel left you no choice but to stand in the corner awkwardly as you watched him make multiple journeys to and fro the apartment.

It had all happened so quickly. Once you had agreed to let him move in, Miguel agreed to sign the contract the next day, albeit it was only for one month. At least that gives you more time to look for a future tenant for next year.

Once he was all moved in, you both awkwardly waited for one another to speak. Thankfully, he began first.

“I guess I’ll go…tidy up my stuff.”

You nod apprehensively. “Right. Uhhh, dinner's at six if you want it.” Miguel nods along too, not adding anything more to the conversation and disappearing into his room.

At six, he didn’t emerge. You knocked on his door as a reminder and a muffled voice replied indicating that he was busy.

You know you shouldn’t take it personally, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of loneliness that surrounded you despite having a new roommate. You let out a deep exhale as you ate at the kitchen table alone.

This was going to be one long Christmas.

taglist: lmk if you would like to be tagged!

@nakimushiohime @keidilla

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 6

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Chrissy had waved him goodbye as they exited the library, a cute wiggle of her fingers as they went their separate ways down the hall. It was almost embarrassing how much it put Jeff in a good mood. How lighter he felt, giddy and happy, and trying not to smile in the halls. It made the rest of the day easier, go by faster. And Jeff sure as hell wasn’t complaining. She took his day and lifted it up, just by the virtue of being in it.

The rest of the day passed in a rush of classes, and of teachers, and of notes and a drifting mind. Drifting to band, and Hellfire, and Chrissy. To guitar chords and crooned words. To strawberry ponytails and matching scrunchies. And next thing he knew the bell was ringing.

Time for band practice. Corroded Coffin tried their best to get together and practice once a week, every week. It was a good excuse to hang out at first, when they were all building their friendships. Talk shit, talk music, riff off each other. Then they got their gig at The Hideout, and practice became a lot more serious.

Granted, they only played to a handful of drunks, but it was a start! It was invigorating, being on the stage, feeling the heat of the shitty lights, the sound of their music coming out the amps, the energy that flowed through them.

Jeff didn’t quite know how he was going to focus on it all tonight. This has been the first practice since her. Since she sat with him and they had an actual conversation, at least. If he finds himself recommending they start playing love songs, he’s going to put his head through one of Gareth’s drums.

He was walking through the halls in a daze, trying to leave the building without colliding into someone in the veritable flood of students all leaving at the same time. Bag strap clutched tightly in his hand, shoulders tight as he weaves past a row of jocks trying their best to take up the entire width of the hall. A voice shakes him out of his reverie.

“Hey Jeff,” Frank greets with a nod of his head, walking in tandem with Jeff as they finally, finally, leave Hawkins High for the day. “You heading to Gareth’s?”

“Gotta do the school run first,” He says with a grimace, slowly heading to the car park, Frank by his side. “Mom’s at work and Dad can’t pick my brothers up. So I’ll drop them home first. Why’d you ask?”

“Mind giving me a ride?” Frank asks, brows gently furrowed as he asks.

“Yeah no worries man. As long as you don’t mind tagging along as I deliver shithead one and two home.”

Frank snorts. “It beats the bus, and Eddie drives like an animal.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Jeff jokes, tilting his head and smiling to Frank, braces bared. Eddie knows they think he drives like a maniac — they’ve all told him as such — but it hasn’t done shit to make him drive like a normal person. Eddie’s the one to drive them to their gigs at The Hideout — he’s got the van, it’s the biggest — and it’s a fucking ordeal every time.

Jeff collects his brothers, both of them only complaining the whole time that Frank’s claimed the front seat and taken control of the stereo. Had put in one of Jeff’s Black Sabbath cassettes to his delight, and his brothers dismay. They had groaned in unison the second the music started, so naturally Jeff turned the volume up. Him and Frank, head-banging the whole way home. Singing louder and louder to smother the sounds of his complaining brothers. His car, his music.

It was fun. Had helped him get more into the zone, the right mindset for practice. Left him breathless and laughing, volume cranked up high.

He had dropped his brothers home, picked up his guitar, and then it was just him and Frank in the car. Frank holding Jeff’s guitar in between his knees, making sure it doesn’t slip and damage anything. Making sure it doesn’t get damaged. It’s precious. It’s his. He had saved up for it, had asked for money for his birthday and Christmas, picked a day there was a big sale on at their local music store when he bought it.

It’s not Eddie’s sweetheart, but it’s fucking good kit if he says so himself.

They were making the drive to Gareth’s, and things were good. But Frank was giving him looks from across the centre console. Now that they were alone, without the annoying constant presence of his brothers — he had the room to do so. Frank was the ‘silent but deadly’ type. Was content to sit back and listen, wasn’t pressed to make a comment if he didn’t have to. But it also meant the guy was scarily good at picking up on things. Reading in between the lines.

Things you weren’t sure you wanted to be picked up on.

“Jeff,” Frank starts, voice only just loud enough to be heard over the music pounding out of the car stereo. There was something in his voice, his tone, something pondering. Knowing. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Oh fuck, he does know something. Whether he knows the specificity of the something is another thing entirely. So does the fact that he’s not sure if he wants to tell or not. Open this can of worms, release the hounds.

He focuses his gaze on the road ahead of him, on the chipped asphalt and the feel of the steering wheel under the palms of his hands. On Frank’s calm, steady gaze on the side of his head.

Frank wouldn’t be mean about it. Wouldn’t be unnecessarily rude, or cruel. Jeff wouldn’t befriend anyone like that, and Frank wouldn’t be that sort of person.

Maybe he doesn’t have to tell him it’s Chrissy specifically. Maybe he can just say he’s got a crush. Developed feelings. It’s just taking up a lot of space in his mind right now. It might be nice, to tell someone else. Ease the pressure. Lessen the burden. Maybe it won’t be so bad, if more than just Eddie knows Jeff is falling hopelessly.

But before he can say anything, before Jeff can even open his mouth — he’s pulling up at Gareth’s house. Drove the entire way without thinking about it. Completely on auto-pilot. He pulls to the kerb, parks the car, and turns to look at Frank. Gives him a small smile.

“I know.”

Frank just nods, and Jeff lets himself sigh a little. Guess they’re tabling this discussion for another time.

Eddie’s van is parked a little ways up the road — at an angle, tail end sticking into the road. Frank snorts as he sees it, exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. “Very glad I didn’t catch a ride with him now.”

Walking up to Gareth’s open garage, guitar in hand, Jeff sees Eddie and Gareth standing in the middle, an amp on the floor between them. Right in front of Gareth’s drum kit, unplugged, decidedly not where it should be.

Gareth’s kit was in the centre, right underneath the handmade Corroded Coffin banner they had strung across the back of the garage. It looked sick as hell, and thankfully Gareth’s parents were cool enough to leave it there. Jeff’s parents would never. Him wanting to learn the guitar was fine, great even. A creative outlet. His mother was less impressed when it evolved into metal music. And an electric guitar. It was louder.

She conceded it was fine when he told he he could plug his headphones into the amp, listen to it that way so he wouldn’t bother the family. No way in hell was she going to let him host band practice though.

Eddie lived in a trailer, and Frank’s place only had an open carport, not a closed in Garage. For a while at the start there they all thought they were shit out of luck.

Thankfully, they had Gareth. Who’s parents were fine with the metal, the band, the DnD. Who were just on the edge of rich that their garage was mostly sound proof. That they could shred as loud as they wanted and it wasn’t a problem (not until the neighbours complained, of course).

“I’m just saying, dude” Eddie exclaims, waving his hands around as he speaks. Rings catching the light, wallet chain lightly jingling at his side. “If we put an amp on either side of your drums, it’ll look sick as hell.”

“It’ll also blow my eardrums out,” Gareth retorted, that familiar scowl on his face, gesturing to his head, and then over at the wall. “Plus, all the outlets are over there, y’know, where we usually plug the amps in?”

“Where’s your vision Gare-Bear!” Eddie says, almost hopping in place. “Your sense of drama! Theatre! Performance!”

“Not here in my parents garage!”

“Jeff, Frankie-Baby,” Eddie adds, whipping around to address them as they approach. Hands clapsed together in front of him like he’s pleading.  “Tell Gareth he’s wrong.”

“I mean,” Jeff starts, dragging out the word as he thinks. Runs his tongue over his braces.  “Where are the outlets in The Hideout? What’s the point in moving them here, if they’re just gonna be somewhere different on stage?”

“See!” Gareth exclaims, before shoving the amp in Eddie’s direction. “We should just leave them off to the side as normal.”

“We are used to them over there,” Jeff adds, not sure if he’s helping anyone.

Eddie moves towards Frank, almost shuffling as his feet scoot across the concrete floor. Hands still clasped together. “Franklin, back me up.”

If the ground were softer Jeff thinks Eddie would be on his knees, really hamming it up, looking up at Frank like he was praying to an uncaring god.

“I think we should hurry up and start practising,” He eventually says, holding back a smile as Eddie groans. “Gareth, you still have my bass?”

Gareth nods, leading Frank over to the back of the garage with the pile of stuff they haven’t moved or organised yet. Jeff snorts as he looks over at Eddie to find him pouting. “Come on drama queen, lets plug this in.”

They get everything set up — still in the same layout they always use, despite Eddie’s complaints — Eddie and Jeff moving the amps into place and untangling the cables. Plugging in their guitars, Frank’s bass, as Gareth fidgeted and fussed with his kit. Adjusting his seat, moving a cymbal over, getting the pedals into position.

“We start same as always?” Frank asks, absently fidgeting and tuning his bass. Plucking strings, eyes flicking between it and the guys.

“Well,” Eddie teases, smiling and tilting his head.

“Do not start, oh my god,” Gareth replies, gathering up his drumsticks.

Practice continues as normal, playing covers, practising riffs, showing off for each other. Talking about original songs, snacking, invading Gareth’s mom’s kitchen for cans of coke. Well, mostly normal, if not for the looks Eddie is giving him from across the garage. Eyes wide, trying to gesture with his eyes, his head. Like’s he’s asking a question, inquiring, all without saying the words.

And Jeff knows exactly what Eddie is asking about. It’s what he’s always asking Jeff about these days — Chrissy. About their meeting in free period, about her sitting with him willingly. About Eddie’s unofficial bet about her being there again. About how he said he’d tell Jeff I told you so at practice. And ah fuck, Eddie’s trying to cash in. He tries to give him a look back from across the garage, saying not now, and also fuck off, you were right. Chrissy was there in free period, had remembered his name and sat with him again.

It felt like the start of a friendship, almost. The start of something new. Like kindergartners sitting together at the playground and declaring they were friends right then, right there.

But why did he have to do this now, where Frank and Gareth were there, watching, not knowing what they were trying to communicate. Gareth peering over his drum kit with his familiar scowl, brows furrowed and mouth tight. Fucking suspicious bastard.

He didn’t look at Frank. He knew he’d see that look on his face again. That he had figured out exactly what they were trying to talk about. He knew, but Gareth didn’t. And Gareth was going to be the tough one to crack, he was feisty, a real spitfire. Held on tight. Clutching onto that metal head title, the culture, the community.

“What the fuck are you two looking like that for,” he says, as one of their songs are winding down.

“Nothing,” Jeff deflects, letting go of his guitar, letting it hang from the strap across his chest. “Just Eddie being Eddie.”

“Oh et tu, Jeffus?” Eddie replies, feigning betrayal, but they can all see him smiling. “You’d betray me right here, in front of god and satan and everyone?”

“You started it,” he says with a shrug, tone light as Frank snorts back a laugh.

Eddie makes a noise of indignation, really starting to play it up now, as everyone watches him. He turns to Gareth, his hand on his heart, and bow his head. “It’s a guitarist thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh you can fuck right off then,” Gareth retorts, threatening to throw a drum stick over at Eddie. “Go eat shit somewhere else.”

“Maybe I will,” Eddie laughs, slowly backing out of the garage, watching as the cable extends between his guitar and the amp. “I don’t need you. Me and Jeff will go start a two man band, really kill it out there.”

“Don’t drag me into this!” Jeff says, laughing as Eddie continues to slowly shuffle his way out of the garage.

“Oh you’ve been dragged,” Eddie laughs, sweeping a hand out to the side. “You signed up for this, as my bestest friend in the whole wide world — and as my fellow guitarist.”

“What would you name your two man band?” Frank asks, successfully deflecting. Jeff feels himself sigh, the air leave his lungs. The tightness unfold its way out of his body. “And don’t say Corroded Coffin.”

Tag List: @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaosgremlinmunson @thespaceantwhowrites @perseus-notjackson @eyesofshinigami @hotluncheddie @novacorpsrecruit @nburkhardt @pansexuality-activated @silentiumdelirium @steaddie-on @steddie-as-they-go @redfreckledwolf @lavender248 @actualwakingnightmare @queenie-ofthe-void @a-little-unsteddie

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️HOT AND COLD❄️

A/N: week 2 of fanficmas yeah!! this was the first fic i wrote, some good ol' college!harry to get you all cozy hehe

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: You decided to spend two more days at the dorm before heading home to have some peace and work on your assignments. However you didn't expect them to turn the heating off once everyone left. No worries, the hot guy living next door is ready to keep you warm.

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This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

You thought staying two extra days in the dorm before going home for the holidays would be a great idea. Have some quiet and peace for yourself, finish some assignments so you don’t stress about them during Christmas. Theoretically, it was a fantastic idea.

In reality? The worst one you’ve ever had.

You didn’t think they would turn down the heating the moment the dorm empties out. Well, it’s a logical thing to do, but it never occurred to you and you only realized it when the temperature started dropping significantly after the last wave of students left in the morning. You went out to run errands and you could feel the change when you arrived back. The hallways were chillier and your room started to feel like a cave. At first you just sucked it up, put on a hoodie, wrapped yourself in a blanket and got down to business. Your uncle always said you can decide whether you’re cold or not, so you kept thinking about hot things to keep your mind off of how freezing it was starting to get.

Hot tea.

Hot chocolate.

A tub of hot water.

Freshly baked, hot cookies.

The hot guy next door.

Wait, what? How did you end up thinking about Harry?

As you sit on your bed with your textbooks surrounding you, an all too familiar voice makes your ears perk up. You’d recognize it anywhere and it never fails to make your heart pitter-patter, but now you’re surprised to hear it since you thought you were the last one left in the building.

Well, you were wrong.

You hear Harry Styles striding down the hallway, singing Jingle Bells without a care. You get out of bed before you could think and throw your door open, catching him by surprise judging from the little jump he does as he turns around.

“Y/N? You’re still here?”

“I was just about to ask the same question from you,” you chuckle, stepping out into the hallway, but your smile soon turns into shock when you see him sporting shorts and just a shirt. “How have you not turned into ice wearing that?”

Chuckling he looks down at himself.

“I have a heater of my own. I could turn my room into a sauna,” he jokes and you can’t help a stupid laugh that slips out of your mouth.

You always lose your cool around him, he’s been your ultimate college crush since you moved in at the beginning of the semester and you usually end up making a fool of yourself in front of him. Whether it’s talking gibberish or dripping eggs when he walks into the kitchen, he has seen you at your worst in these two months you’ve been living next to each other.

“You’re not going home for winter break?” he asks, striking up a conversation and you pray you don’t embarrass yourself this time.

“Oh, I am, but only late tomorrow. Wanted some alone time before going home to the family, study and stuff, you know…”

“Clever,” he nods with a smile.

“What about you?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow too, I was supposed to go home today, but my flight got cancelled.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “You’re sitting in your cold room all by yourself?”

“Well, not everyone has their own fireplace,” you snort out a laugh, but it sounded funnier in your head for sure.

“Come over to mine,” he offers and you have to fight yourself not to let your mouth hang open.

You’ve hung out before, ran into each other at parties and while your crush is deeply rooted at this point, you two aren’t exactly the closest friends, you haven’t been in his room before, haven’t even hugged him so entering into his private space is the most intimate you’d ever get with him.

“Um, I don’t want to bother—“

“Y/N, you’re not bothering, I’m just playing video games.”

“B-But still…”

“You’d rather freeze to death in your room than to be around me? I have to say I’m a little hurt.” With a hand over his heart he gives you a disappointed look, though you can tell he’s just teasing you.

“You really don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you over if I did. Come on, bring all your stuff.”

And so you end up moving over to Harry’s room that feels like paradise. The temperature is perfect, you can get rid of your hoodie as you settle on top of his bed while he sits by his desk with his PC, some kind of action game paused on the screen.

His room is oddly tidy for a college boy. The bed was made even before you appeared, there are no dirty clothes on the floor, only in the hamper in the corner, his bookshelf is crowded, but it seems to have a system in it that probably only he knows.

“Is it warm enough?” he asks, settling at his computer.

“Yeah, thanks,” you nod, feeling a bit out of place, but the warmth feels nice.

“Cool,” he nods before turning back to his game and unpausing it.

For the first hour you just coexist in peace. It takes you some time to focus on studying with Harry being so close and also being in Harry’s room, but the feeling wears down and you can finally work efficiently while he keeps himself busy with his game. But then he stops playing and becomes more interested in whatever you are doing.

“You haven’t finished this sheet yet?” he asks, holding up the statistics task sheet you’ve been putting off for over a month now.

“No,” you sigh in defeat. “I’m not really good at statistics.”

“Want me to help? I’m in Dr. Thomson’s Thursday class, but we went over the same thing too.”

“It’s my homework, I don’t want to bore you with it.”

“It’s fine, I actually liked these tasks.”

So then the evening turns into tutoring, Harry sits on the bed beside you, explaining you how to solve the tasks and even shows a better method you understand way more than what you were taught. After that, he just sticks to studying with you, though it slowly turns into anything and everything but studying. He clearly loses interest in helping you, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone and your focus breaks too. Of course you’d rather hang out with Harry than write a paper on Switzerland’s economy!

You’re having a blast. Both of you. It’s the first time hanging out one-on-one, but it’s going better than you imagined. You haven’t made a fool out of yourself, even cracked some jokes that made him laugh, though he is surely the funnier one. He is telling you all kinds of crazy stories from before college and also asks you about your high school years.

“Mm, this was great, though I did not get as much done as I planned to,” you chuckle, taking a look at your stack of textbooks.

“But we had a good time and that’s all that matters,” he grins at you, hugging his pillow.

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair,” you move to pack your things and return to your room, but then he speaks up.

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to my room.”

“You didn’t think I would let you sleep in the cold, did you?”

“What, you want me to sleep here?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Sure. There’s plenty of space for us. You’re sleeping here tonight,” he simply states.

About twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the edge of his bed in your pajamas, waiting for him to return from his shower.

You’re really about to sleep in the same bed as Harry Styles. Hopefully you won’t kick him in the groin or say something stupid in your dreams or drool on him or—“

“You look worried,” he comments as he walks in, dropping his used clothes into his hamper. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Totally awesome and perfect!”

God, you are so awkward!

“Okay,” he smiles to himself. “Take whatever side you want. It’s not a king sized bed, but it’s fine for two people for one night.”

You gulp at the thought of Harry spending the night here with another girl, jealousy bubbles in your chest.

“At least Niall and I survived the time he got locked out of his room,” he adds with a chuckle and you exhale in relief.

You end up taking the inner side of the bed and you lie on your side as he makes himself comfortable on the outer side. It’s really not too spacious, but at least it’s warm and smells like Harry.

“Thanks for… letting me crash here,” you whisper into the silence. Harry turns to you with a tiny, but charming smile.

“I’m glad it’s you I have to share my warmth with,” he cheekily says and heat rushes into your cheeks right away. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

 

You knew you’d end up tangled together. It was inevitable in such a small space. But still, your heart starts racing when you wake up and find yourself cuddling Harry, who has his arms around you as well. He’s warm and soft, definitely meant to be cuddled in your humble opinion.

He stirs in his sleep and your heart jumps when his eyes flutter open. He doesn’t move away, in fact, he pulls you closer as he exhales lazily.

“Good morning,” he mumbles groggily.

“Mornin’,” you breathe out, feeling like a giddy little girl.

 “I hope you weren’t cold,” he chuckles softly and you feel his chest vibrating underneath your cheek.

“No. I felt nice and warm.”

“Alright,” he smiles. “When is your flight?”

“Five thirty. What about yours?”

“Six. Want to share an Uber to the airport?”

“Sure,” you nod.

You spend most of your time left together. You grab a late breakfast, then hang out in his room and not just because his room is the only place in the building that hasn’t turned into a freezer. It feels natural to be around each other.

Then you share a ride to the airport, grab coffee and then wait together until it’s time for you to go to your gate.

“Well, have a great time at home,” he smiles at you.

“You too. Thanks for… everything,” you chuckle softly. “I’ll see you after the break and...”

Don’t forget about me, you want to say, but you bite it back.

There’s something hanging between the two of you, something unsaid and you fear you’ll have to leave without changing that.

“Okay, I’ll… go,” you mumble, grabbing your suitcase, but before you could walk away, Harry pulls you back.

“When we come back, do you want to… Do you want to go out? With me?”

You can’t stop your mouth from hanging open this time, his question came as a total shock.

“Honestly, I’ve been crushing on you for a while, but every time we spoke you seemed so frightened and ran away, so I took it as a sign,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “But I think last night was nice, I liked hanging out with you and there’s a chance you feel the same way, so I thought I would… shoot my shot.”

You open your mouth, but then close it as his words sink in. He thought you didn’t like him. Because you ran away from him. But that was because you were into him. What a mess.

“Yes,” is all that comes out of your mouth at last.

“Yes as in…?”

“Yes, I want to go out with you,” you elaborate chuckling. “And I only ran away because I really liked you and I was too nervous.”

You watch his face light up before he nods.

“Great! I mean, not that you were too nervous,” he grins. “So then… Date. When we come back.”

“Yeah,” you nod, mirroring his widening smile. “I have to… I have to go now.”

“Alright. See you… next year then,” he chuckles and leaning closer he kisses the corner of your mouth before you part ways.

After that, you’re basically glued to your phone, nonstop talking to Harry throughout winter break and you’ve never wanted to return to school so badly before. You text, call and send pictures to each other continuously and you can’t even remember the times when it wasn’t like this.

When you return to campus in January, your excitement is kicking high, though on the day of your arrival, Harry’s responses come way less often than they used to, but you’re not trying to see too much into it.

As you’re unpacking your suitcase there’s a knock on your door and when you open it, your heart skips not just one, but probably several beats when you see him standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Don’t you feel cold in here? I think you should come over to my room.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[sjhhemmings]

Welcome Home

jeff clarke x fem!reader

a/n: hiii let me know if u guys enjoyed this. i got this idea when i was rewatching szn 2 of chicago fire and it got to the plot line where his wife left him after he came home from deployment. heart literally shattered :(( i’ve had this idea for a couple days now and i was inspired, sue me. ily guys, make sure you like, reblog, and do all that jazz to support your writers. hugs and kisses to you all, happy christmas season to those who celebrate 🎉❤️💚

warnings: swearing, fluff, kissing, anything i missed.

Working a 12 hour shift the night before your husband comes home from a year and a half long deployment wasn’t your first choice.

Originally he was supposed to be home after 8 months, but then his contract was extended to 10 months. Then extended again to 12, then finally extended to another 6. Each phone call broke your heart worse than the last. There was nothing you wanted more than to see your husband again. Especially on the hard days when the only thing that got you through was the thought that your husband will be home soon.

3 weeks ago on the dot you got a phone call. Your heart shattered. You were certain that he was going to call and tell you his contract got extended another 2-6 months and that you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

*3 weeks ago*

With tears already building in your eyes and your heart in your throat you answer the phone with a shakey hello.

“Hi Baby! I uh, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Clarke’s voice was initially excited then dropped then second he heard the heartbreak in your voice.

“Oh, nothing. I just miss you is all.” Finally letting out a sob after the last sentence, you truly couldn’t stop the tears.

“Hey, hey, I miss you too. Everything will be okay. I just got some good news actually.”

“Oh yeah?” You say sniffling with a little more hope into the phone.

“Yeah, I just talked to my sergeant and he said I get to come home at the end of this month.”

The second you heard those words leave his mouth, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. Time stood still. God had finally answered your prayers.

“Baby?” He asked after about 30 seconds of silence from your end.

“Yeah, yes, I’m here. I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sob. The amount of ecstasy you’re feeling right now is truly overwhelming.

“I know, I feel the same way.” He says with his voice cracking also.

“So, do you have an exact date? That you’ll be home?” You ask more composed after collecting yourself for a few seconds.

“Sarge is thinking about 3 weeks, but no later than 5.” He says a little more excited now.

“Jeff, I, I don’t even know what to say right now. I love you so much.”

“I know baby, I love you too. I actually have to go, Sarge is calling me right now, I’ll see you when I get home,”

“Yes, go, you’re fine. I’ll see you when you get home.” You say with a little giggle hanging up the phone because it’s almost too good to be true.

*Present Day*

Now you’re here, rushing around your house to get ready. You got home at 3 AM last night after an emergency trauma surgery at med. Of course it ran long, and of course you were supposed to be up and ready by 7 to see your husband finally come home.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You mumble to yourself as your looking for your other earring, and left shoe simultaneously in your cluttered house.

Fuck that was another thing you should’ve done. He hasn’t been home in almost two years and now he’s coming back to a dirty house.

Once you’ve finally found your other shoe, and your earring, you face yourself in your bathroom mirror and take a breath. Touching up your hair and buffing out a few things with your makeup, you’re ready.

You grab your purse and begin to walk to your door when the bell rings. Opening it hastily because you literally need to leave right now, you drop your purse at the sight.

“Y/N,” is all he says before you quite literally pounce on him. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs around his waist. He holds your body up securely and with ease with one arm while the other combs through your hair.

You’ve imagined this moment for months now. What you would say, what you would do, how you would even greet him again? But all of that planning went out the window the second he stood in front of you again.

After maybe two minutes of you now sobbing all of your freshly done makeup off onto his shoulder, you pull your head back and cup his face in your hands. He lets you down to hold your face the same way. You couldn’t believe it. Right now, you’re staring deeply into the love of your life’s eyes. You two months ago would’ve never guessed this is where’d you be now. It’s almost too good to be true.

“You’re real right? I’m not dreaming?” You whisper with your faces barely inches apart.

“I’m real, you’re not dreaming.” He says both of you giggling at the butterflies swarming between you.

You weren’t going to lie, all of this time apart had you worried the two of you had changed. That when he came back nothing between you would be the same. That he wouldn’t be the same person who left. But after 5 minutes of him being back, you know that even if anything did change, he’s still the love of your life.

A little nervous to make a move you stay frozen with your faces just inches apart. You don’t know why, he’s your husband. You shouldn’t be nervous like you’re 12 years old on the middle school playground afraid to hug your crush.

Your eyes glanced maybe one to many times between his eyes and his lips and you watched his do the same, you slowly move your face in, slightly afraid of rejection, you grin just a bit as you notice he’s moving his face closer too.

The second your lips touched it was a slow and delicate kiss.

You moaned into his lips as you could feel more tears streaming down your face. This was the thing you craved most while he was gone. Just being able to kiss your husband after work. If it were up to you, neither of you would work again and you would just stay at home together forever. The passion and fire setting through your body grew.

Jeff ended up pulling away leaving you wanting more. You look up into his eyes through your hooded lashes trying your best to make sure this was real and not a dream.

“Let’s go inside.” He finally mutters through heavy breathing making your eyes light up. You walk backwards pulling him in as he’s grabbing his duffle bag with one hand and the other around your waist.

Shutting the door with his foot, he rips his shirt off making you truly question how sane you look right now. All you want to do right now is devour this man, but you hold yourself back as you admire his abs. Okay, maybe having a marine for a husband isn’t that bad.

“Are you just gonna stand and stare, or are you going to do something about it?” He asks seductively.

You chuckle at his challenge and walk toward him rubbing your hands down his chest.

“I could stare at this all day, baby.” You say now turning around also stripping your shirt off.

“You know what? No more games.” He finally says turning you around and carrying you over his shoulder into your shared bedroom.

Once you’ve finished having the best, most magical, passionate sex of your life, you’re laying tangled with your husband under the sheets never leaving if that were a choice.

“Abstinence was not for the weak.” You mutter as you listen to his heartbeat with your head on his chest.

“I know baby, you’ve been a good girl for me though, right?” He adds with a hint of worry on the last word.

“Always,” You whisper looking up at him and capturing his lips. “Welcome home”.

[oksurethisismyname]

Hiiiii as a queer person living in the Bible Belt of the USA, I’m envisioning a “Christian trauma AU / general theology AU” because you know my main focus is always Sanji. This assumed that we’re in the USA, modern era, and I guess maybe a college or post grad AU for how they meet each other? This is a lonnnnnnnng text post so scroll at your own risk. To keep it from being toooo long I’m also sticking to east blue crew.

Hear me out:

There are a million different sects of Christianity so we’ve got a ton of angles to use.

Garp is catholic (but think FRENCH laïcité instead of American Amy Coney Barret Supreme Court justice weird catholic cult), Dragon straight up rebels against the strict structure and goes about his atheist ways. Neither of them really raise Luffy anyway so 💁🏻

Luffy ends up being agnostic. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in a higher power but he knows he needs to take action and that he can’t rely on a higher power to fix the problems of the world. Very Albert Camus, revolting against the absurd and holding himself to a higher responsibility in life

Zoro comes from a Shinto or Buddhist background. He’s not judging anyone’s religious beliefs unless they’re harming others.

Nami has religious trauma from the Baptist church that set up in her town and made it impossible to be herself. Belle Mere is so clearly queer and she’s harassed and dies at the hands of some zealous bigots who were emboldened by the words of the local Baptist church pastor (Arlong)

Ussop comes from a chill Protestant background (maybe Presbyterian?) But he’s more of a CEO (Christmas Easter Only) in terms of actually attending any sort of church. Honestly, with his dad out of the picture and his mom dying, he just had bigger things on his mind like living every day.

Finally, Sanji. Oh boy, Sanji has major “Quiverfull movement Christian” trauma from Judge. For those who don’t know, quiverfull is a Christian extremist movement where the idea is to have as many kids as possible and adhere to very strict purity rules and gender roles. Contraception isn’t allowed. Women wear long skirts and non fitted shirts to hide their womanly form (ew), and most of the time these parents homeschool there kids to avoid the “temptation” or “impurity” of modern society.

Judge had these 5 kids who he’s raised in this faith but Sanji never liked how Judge treated his mom. Why was Sora supposed to be “seen and not heard?” Why was it ok for his brothers to use scripture to bully and hurt and spread hate? Why would a loving god create women just to subjugate them? Judge wouldn’t like this, and once Sora passes away (probably because Judge wouldn’t let her seek medical care post birth of the quadruplets, so her health deteriorated for years), Judge locks him up and makes him do all sorts of horrible “prayer” and “repentance” practices, which are really just abuse.

Sanji would maybe escape when they go into town to get something mundane like a printer or a new wifi router (which only judge is allowed to use the internet). He’d probably bolt first chance he gets and when he meets Zeff, Zeff can recognize the signals of abuse. He takes Sanji in and even though Sanji never believed women were less than men, he still has years of trauma and gender roles beaten into him that he has to unpack.

His choice to cook? That’s a huge rebellion. Wearing tight fitting suits that look sinful? That’s a middle finger to his dad. He always treats women like goddesses because he feels so much guilt for the sins of his father. When he finally joins the Strawhats, he’s so overwhelmed with how free and nonjudgmental they are (of important stuff, obviously they’ll still poke fun at small stuff) that he feels comfortable dropping little comments here and there, opening up.

Ussop will be comforting Nami about something and sanji will tell him is so refreshing to see a man be so nurturing. He goes to Ussop often, asking how he’s so confident sharing his emotions.

Nami will be ordering them around and he’ll do everything she says with a smile, just happy to see her free to do what she wants (which is be a bossy bitch)

Zoro will talk about Kuina one night and Sanji will sob, overwhelmed with joy that she got to have all that strength and a friend like zoro even when faced with hurtful gender expectations.

Luffy above all is the most jarring for him. He grew up hearing about sin and sinners and temptation and evil but when he sees Luffy doing his thing, taking down bad people, fighting for the underdog, he knows that if there is a God (he she it they? Who cares), Luffy is doing their work.

——————

Bonus Gay Cherry on top is that Sanji meets Iva and gets into drag, starts performing, does some events, and through that gender liberation is able to find some peace in who he is, tucking away all the hate he was born into. And he ends up with zoro the end bye

[spacequokka]

Kookies | Day 20

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Roommate AU, Fluff Rating: PG Summary: Your roomie needs help in the kitchen. Word Count: 0.7k Warnings: Language.

Gray, cloudy skies loomed over the city, heavy with the promise of snow. Festive lights twinkled on every corner, but the threat of a winter storm brought a sense of unease to the bustling streets. Amidst the revelry and holiday cheer, you'd been focused on finishing up an article for a client. Just as you'd submitted it for review, a knock on the door drew your attention from your computer. "Yeah?"

Your notoriously mischievous roommate, Jungkook, poked his head in. "Hey. Um, how busy are you on a scale of one to 'please help me?'"

You turned in your chair toward him. "What have you done now?"

He pursed his lips like he wanted to defend himself but thought better of it, settling for "It's not what I've done, but what I need to do."

Now he had your attention. "O-kay. What do you 'need' to do?"

With a straight face, he said, "Bake twelve dozens of frosted sugar cookies."

You waited for him to crack a smile, laugh and say "sike", but he didn't. When it was clear he was waiting on your response, you nearly choked. "I beg your damn pardon?"

He pushed the door open. "Okay, so Jimin said I can't cook to save my life. I wasn't gonna let him talk shit so," he took a deep breath, "I bet that I could and he put me in charge of bringing cookies to his Christmas party tomorrow."

You blinked a few times. "The only thing I've ever seen you cook without burning it is ramen."

"That's something I like to eat!" He threw his hands up. He'd clearly heard that retort already. "But that's not the point. I can bake the cookies, but I need help decorating and packaging them good enough to make the trip." He gave you his best puppy eyes. "Please help me. I know I can't mess it up if you're by my side."

"Why do I feel like the Shego to your Dr. Drakken?"

"You know what--I'll take that. Just say you'll help me, please? I'll do anything you want for a day."

"Just a day? That's over a hundred cookies--"

"Okay, a week! A whole seven days of whatever you want."

"Hm." You pretended to think about it. He dropped to his knees and put his hands together, poking his bottom lip out. "Meh, okay. I'm in."

"Oh, thank fuck." He stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you out the chair. "I got the premixed stuff because the YouTube short I found called for too much shit." His words ran together worse than in your room as he led the way to the kitchen. Everything you needed was laid out on the kitchen table. "The first batch is cooling here and the second batch is in the oven. You can start bagging the icing and I'll start on batch three."

"Holy shit." You picked up a piping bag. "You're actually on top of this." You grabbed a spoon and scooped vanilla into the bag. "Do I get music to work to, boss?"

He preened at the compliment and nodded with a grin. "Of course!" He dug his phone out of his pocket. A few swipes later, "Jingle Bell Rock" started to play. "Good?"

"Yessir." You nodded as you swung your hips to the song and added red food coloring to the icing. "Any particular request for the decorations?"

"Nope. Go wild or be as basic as you want. I just want them done so I can shove them in his stupid face."

"Aye aye." You saluted him. You both fell into a production line with him baking and you decorating the cookies.

Jungkook watched in amazement as you effortlessly piped intricate designs onto each cookie. "You're really good at this," he commented as he attempted to decorate a snowflake with blue frosting.

"It just takes practice," you replied with a smile. Once all the cookies were cooled and frosted, you packaged them in festive boxes for tomorrow's event. As you finished up, Jungkook thanked you profusely for your help.

"It was actually kind of fun," you admitted with a grin. "Much better than dealing with bananas."

"Yeah? Maybe next time we can bake something more challenging together," Jungkook suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You laughed and shook your head. "We'll see."

But deep down, you knew that spending time together like this was becoming one of your favorite things about living with Jungkook. And as the snow began to fall outside, creating a winter wonderland scene, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a chaotic yet fun roommate.

[iboatedhere]

Thanks @liminalmemories21 for the tag.

I have a bunch of holiday themed fics from my Check Please era.

--

Cookies And Conversations - Jack and Bitty spend Christmas in Georgia.

Down On The Waterfront- The waterfront is packed. Jack has never seen this many people along the bank of the river. He didn’t even know there was this many people in Providence.

You Can Count On Me-“Hey, Bits. You’re probably still asleep. It’s quarter after five here so that means it’s what….seven-fifteen in Rhode Island? The time differences have been screwing me up all week but I’m pretty sure that’s right. You’ve definitely hit the snooze buttons a few times at least. Anyways, I’m just calling because I’m still at the airport. There’s a snowstorm coming into Denver and they’ve delayed a ton of flights. It sucks but I promise I’m going to make it in time, okay? You don’t need to worry about it. A promise is a promise and I’ll be there even if I have to Trains, Planes, and Automobiles my way home…….shit. They just delayed us again. But I’ll be there. I love you. Both of you. I’ll call you when we start to board. See you soon.”

Let Your Heart Be Light -“Jack. Sweetheart. If these cookies don’t work out,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “I’m going to have to bring store bought cookies to holiday parties.” “I won’t let that happen.” He pats Bitty’s butt and tells him to get going.

Christmas In The Air-Snowflakes swirl around them as Jack follows Bitty through the maze of trees.

Mistletoe Kisses -Shitty hangs the mistletoe in the entryway to the kitchen and it feels like a personal attack.

Snowmen and Snowball Fights- Shitty flings his bag towards the porch and dives into the snow. “C’mon Jack. The kids grow up so fast.” He points at Bitty and Bitty gasps in offence. “We have to enjoy the time we have with them.”

Do You See What I See?- Jack might have one eye on Tater but the other is on Eric Bittle, Head of Public Relations, who is standing very close to him and smells very good. Like vanilla and sugar and the spice of the mulled cider that he’s ladling into his cup.

Beneath The Winter Moon- Bitty has checked his phone every two minutes for the past hour and the only thing that ever changes on it is the time. There’s never a new text or a missed call that he didn’t hear over the sound joyful sounds of kids and adults laughing and singing as they skate around the ice. The minutes tick by, there’s no stopping them. There’s no stopping the feeling in the pit of his stomach either. He got stood up. There’s no way around it.

Love And All The Other Intangibles- Eric Bittle's fraught and opaque relationship with Christmas.

Warm Your Bones By The Light Of My Fire -Jack heads out to check on the team in the middle of a blizzard. Bitty stress bakes.

Every Time A Bell Rings- Jack gets injured during a game and when he wakes up in the hospital he's pretty sure he's looking at an angel.

[rip-us-xoxo]

Infatuated- Draco Malfoy x Reader (REPOST)

Posted DECEMBER 26, 2020

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

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Request-Hi!! May I request a Draco and Hufflepuff reader with prompts 3, 7, 9 from the Christmas list? Maybe they’re in the great hall and she’s all dressed up for Christmas and Draco is just infatuated with her❤️❤️

A/n- I looove Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader imagines! Thanks for requesting, hope you like it! By the way, this is very stereotypical, but that’s because I fit the Hufflepuff stereotype to a tee so I am just using my own personal experience.

——————————————————————————

Warnings- None :)

——————————————————————————

Christmas, your favorite holiday. For more than one reason, there were cookies, present giving, and cute sweaters you can wear. But the best thing was that you got to do all of that with your boyfriend. 

It was Christmas break and your parents went on a trip to go visit your grandparents. You stayed behind because, one, you really didn’t like traveling, and two, Draco was staying behind at Hogwarts for Christmas too so you wanted to stay with him. 

You were one of the only Hufflepuff’s to stay behind for Christmas, most of them went back home to spend it with their family. But your lack of friends wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas spirit! 

You spent about two hours getting dressed for Christmas, your outfit consisted of festive leggings, an ugly Christmas sweater that lit up, festive socks, and finally, reindeer ears. 

You were visibly shaking with excitement while you were walking to the Great Hall, freshly baked cookies, courtesy of you, in your hands. You also had your bag slung around your shoulder, trying to take out a Christmas present you had for Draco out of it. 

Once you entered the Great Hall, you were struggling with everything in your hands. Draco, who was slumped over at the Slytherin table awaiting your arrival, noticed your struggles and hurried over to help you because the last time you dropped your plate of cookies you didn’t stop crying for hours which broke Draco’s heart. 

“Darling,” Draco panicked and held his arms out, waiting for something, or someone, to fall. You looked up suddenly, arms all tangled up, and smiled. 

“Merry Christmas, I brought cookies!” you beamed and held out the plate to him, the creases on your face from your smile making Draco swoon. “They smell delicious,” Draco cooed and took them from you before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

A few boys snickered at you both as they walked into the Great Hall. Draco sent a glare their way before looking back at you and smiling, you looked so cute to him at the moment. Your outfit, the fact that you baked cookies, and the gleeful look you had on; he was just besotted with you. 

“You are too adorable with those reindeer ears,” Draco commented and played with one of the bells hanging off of the antler that made it much more festive. A blush painted your cheeks as you looked down toward the floor and started rocking back and forth on your heels, “Thank you.”. 

You looked back up at him and looked over to the Hufflepuff table. “Well, I better go sit down,” you told him and started walking. Draco grabbed you by your bicep and pulled you back, “Nonsense. You’re sitting with me,” he scoffed and grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the Slytherin table. 

Once you two sat down, Draco immediately pulled you into his side and grabbed you a plate, putting food on it. He placed all of your favorites on the plate and handed it to you, “Here you are love.”. “Thank you!” you exclaimed and immediately dug in. Draco grinned down at you which made a few Slytherins snigger.

“Oh shut up, Zabini,” Draco growled and Blaise just shrugged his shoulders before chuckling again and talking with the others. He looked back over at you and placed his head in his hand, resting his elbow on the table just admiring you. 

He found everything about you adorable no matter what. It was like you two were made for each other. Draco protected you with everything he had and you helped him to be a better version of himself. You looked over at Draco to see him staring at you causing more blush to spread across your cheeks. 

“I’m just that adorable, aren’t I?” you joked, but Draco was dead serious. “Yes, yes you are,” he said and scrunched his nose shaking his head all cutesy, making you giggle. His heart thumped at the noise and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder before leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“You know what? I don’t want this feast because you look much more delicious right now,” he whispered, making your whole body go scarlet. “Draco, stop,” you giggled and hid your face in his chest. 

“Only telling the truth, darling,” he said, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Oh my Godric,” you laughed and hit his chest before pulling away and going back to eating. 

“What? I am just infatuated with you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So get used to it darling, or else you’ll be in for a wild ride for the rest of your life,” he told you before eating as well. You only giggled but your heart was going a million miles a minute. 

Did he just proclaim that you two were going to be together forever?

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

xoxo

[hwaightme]

The Chemistry of Christmas

❄️ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader (+implied woosan) ❄️ genre: fluff, christmas, opposites attract, mutual pining ❄️ summary: How could two people with such different views hope for the same thing? You, a logical and ambitious professional hiding a torrent of emotion within just to pave your future. Kim Hongjoong, your kindhearted and gentle friend and co-worker, who wants nothing more than to live in the moment. In this battle against time counting down to Christmas, will you be able to find your forever and make your wish come true? ❄️ wordcount: 10.6k ❄️ warnings/tags: language, explicit mention of alcohol, some get drunk, suggestive (very much so at times so minors please be mindful), ateez is a research group, christmas getaway, reader is ambitious and got that powerful energy, shy hongjoong, opposites attract, tension, back and forth, woo tormenting hwa like no tomorrow, hj and reader are nanoscientists, a bit of a work au, lmk if anything else ❄️ a/n: hello everyone! I'd like to wish you all a very merry Christmas and thank you from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give. I am wishing for this celebration to bring you joy and adoration! I hope you enjoy this piece, and stay tuned for more to come! Reblogs, likes and follows always welcome <3

Magic in the air.

As though by a mysterious force, the city transformed in unison to a festive wonderland, much to the delight of its dwellers and visitors alike.

From the gorgeous trees to the intricate storefront decorations, to the aroma of sugar and spice travelling in the air from the cosy markets, the season was truly the one that kept on giving.

If that was not enough this year took things up a notch, with impressive snowfall for the majority of December. The quaint suburban neighbourhoods had come to look like miniatures from beloved fairy tale stories, while the high streets and city centre had taken on an astonishing glow. The temperatures kept on dropping, while the hearts of those around kept on getting warmer.

For you, Christmastime was most probably the best time of the year. You adored wishing merriness to the assistants at your favourite shops. Walking past the myriad of houses with wreaths, spotting Christmas trees glowing within and seeing people simply living in the miracle put a pep in your step. The exclusive beverages that were released just this time of year instantly were on your list to try, and never failed to cheer you up, ready for the day ahead.

And that was the secret behind how you came into work, beaming, in the depths of the ‘gloomy winter’, cheeks and nose flushed from the biting cold. The institute, where you were proud to be a fulltime researcher in the nanoscience department, could not escape from the cheer either and as you traversed the many corridors of your second home, the offices and laboratories bore hints of the season, be it in a stray bauble or bell on a door handle, or a bow pinned to a wall.

As you turned the corner, you did your research group’s usual routine of saluting the skeleton you permanently borrowed from the medicine department, now dressed up as Santa Claus. You were careful to not spill the tray of hot drinks you had picked up on the way as you completed the gesture. Noticing a couple more holiday cards set down on the floor under it, you hummed in approval. This was what academia was all about, folks. Slow and steady, you swiped your card on the scanner right above your office’s handle and followed with a practiced push down and shouldering of the door. This space was shared between you, and eight other fantastic researchers – all of you recent graduates, brought together by

The office was fairly large albeit bland, with space for nine desks – all in threes, with one to the far left against the wall, and two rows facing each other in the centre of the room. Each sported an ancient monitor and computer that were left unchanged because they still worked and were the only system that could be trusted with running the expensive and time-consuming simulations.  A dramatic irony for any budding scientists-to-be who were all about innovation and equated research to being on a spaceship straight out of a science fiction movie. To the right was the ‘recreation station’ – a line of furniture collected from yard sales and second-hand shops, namely a duo of flimsy terrace chairs under the far window, a couch that had to undergo extensive treatment to get the stench of cigarettes out of it, and one of the better investments: a movable cupboard that housed kitchen paraphernalia and a microwave.

This was where you set down the tray, out of fear that if you were to tempt fate any longer, you were going to bring less than welcome floor decorations to the shared space. Besides, you did not want to be scolded by the resident cleanroom aesthetics activist, who was already giving you concerned glances from across the room. It was still surprisingly empty, given the time. You glanced at the clock on the wall, barely making out a 8:30AM on the dot behind the snowman face that someone taped on. You sure knew how to time your commutes down to a t. Right, time to get started.

“Good morning how is everyone doing?” you called out to the four men who had already arrived and were sleepily checking through their emails.

The chorus of greetings and friendly waves as they got out of what was a near trance was enough to remind you why you were grateful to be working here. Even on days when all of you were busy, or when life was continuously throwing stress tests, all you had to do was call out, and they would be there.

The youngest of the crew, Jongho, was quick to get up and saunter over to you. He looked expectantly at the drinks, while you took off your hat and ruffled your hair.

“Good morn’, Y/N, I see you are starting off early with the celebrations huh?”

“Never too early to pre-game, man, never too early. Here is your americano, by the way.” You turned to pick out the coffee, still piping, and passed it over to your colleague.

“Life saver, thanks.”

You watched in awe as he took a sip with a completely straight face, your own mouth feeling the ghosts of a burn. Fighting the shudder that was about to run down your body, you decided to unpack the carrier tray fully, and leave the rest of the drinks at their respective target desks. While doing so, two of your other close colleagues, Seonghwa and Yunho, approached you, pretending as though they were not about to snatch their beverages and run into hiding. You raised an eyebrow as Yunho did a little crab-like sidestep around you, having spotted his requested latte and wanting to reach for it.

“Go ahead, be my guest.”

“Thanks, and guess what, the Christmas crackers that had been delayed have arrived this morning!” he fist pumped the air as you thanked him for agreeing to sacrifice his apartment for any extra deliveries.

Once more, you turned to Seonghwa, who gave you an appreciative grin once you informed him that he was to receive a hot chocolate. Afterwards, you were quick to position the drinks on the respective four desks closest to you, saving your order and that of the man who was now standing before you, for last.

“Good morning, Y/N, thank you so much for this. Exactly what I needed.” He expressed, his musical voice washing over you.

“Good morning, Hongjoong.” You could not help but drop your voice into a half-whisper, unable to retain the previously more friendly and confident composure upon seeing his glinting eyes. Gazing at you as though, in that moment, you were the only one to exist in this space.

He pointed at the coat that you were yet to take off, inquiring “need help with that?”. You happily obliged.

He had to be the closest thing there was to an embodiment of benevolence. Ever since you had met him in your second year of university, him being your senior and assistant in one of your classes, you noticed just how natural it was for him to connect with others, make them feel seen, understood, and appreciated. He was the type of man to sacrifice time even for the smallest of troubles, and you had seen him staying late again, and again, to help your peers with their work, their projects, and on the odd occasion, life troubles.

You had been amazed his having never treated the evident exploitation in an outwardly aggressive manner, instead independently choosing to sit and answer question after question, treating them all equally and repeating himself without a single inkling of doubt that he was merely doing his job. Initially you decided that this was not for you to inquire into, Hongjoong being fully capable of figuring things out for himself as a hardworking and high-achieving student. But that decision had not lasted even an hour, as in the class you had discovered obvious signs of fatigue. When you had heard your peer question him about his personal life and he fell into an awkward silence, you took it as a green light to steal him away, practically dragging him out of the door and wildly tapping in numbers on the coffee machine. Coincidentally, it was also winter then.

Since that exact moment, you and Hongjoong had become partners in crime. You would never admit it out loud, but he had been at the forefront of your mind when choosing what you were going to do with your life after university, even though you had told yourself time and time again that there was no chance, and that you should reduce your feelings to the nanoparticles that you studied.

As much as Hongjoong was there for you, his altruism and innate ability to bring people together, to lead, had unintentionally put some distance between you. Not that he could notice. He was oblivious to how you yearned for even a minute more of his time. He was likely unaware of how he was making you feel as he helped you take off your coat, hanging it on the rack with indescribable gentleness. How you melted like a snowman in the sunlight at his small gestures, how he took great care to let you walk to your workspace first and followed you with the early morning brews. If you had to describe what he was to you, to put it simply, he was your Christmas.

In a way, he was the opposite of you. You were that loud, heart on your sleeve type, bouncing off the walls if the energy in the room was right and sinking into the darkest brooding if you were to sense it. For the most part, you had figured out how to convert this energy into high octane work fuel, and no matter if you were going up or down on the roller coaster that was life, you found a way to use it. Be it by burning the midnight oil and letting cortisol guide you writing your thesis (which you had scolded Hongjoong for before, but he had graduated by the time the honour was bestowed upon you, so he did not have to know), or by repeating that everything was going to turn out okay like a mantra. You laboured away at bending the natural twists and turns of the ride, which was so unlike Hongjoong, that you could not help but be drawn to him and his inimitable openness.

You were one to feel hard and deeply, no matter how hard you tried to supress it. And this was both a curse and a blessing. To your advantage, you could enjoy the small moments, like you and four of the eight wonderful people who you had the honour of calling your friends after some time working together, sitting in the quietude of a cosy office that acted as your base of operations. Much to your disadvantage, you were very acute to Hongjoong’s presence immediately to your right, as he pushed his seated form closer to you. The rolling chairs hit one another with a soft thud as he leaned further forward to position his elbow securely on the desk and rest his head on the palm of his hand.

“Are you looking forward to the party tonight?” for a split second his voice sounded almost desperate, as though he was searching for something, or seeking confirmation. Any worry that you might have caught on his features quickly dispelled, however, as you mirrored his position and responded, studying him.

“Of course, I am. Getting to celebrate my favourite season with my favourite people, what more could I ask for?” you were not going to mention that you were looking forward to seeing Hongjoong sporting an ugly Christmas sweater, as commanded by the mutually agreed dress code, though you had no doubt that he would be able to pull anything off. On Halloween he managed to make a Despicable Me minion-inspired costume look a bit too good.

“Probably for your secret Santa to have actually taken their job seriously this year around, unlike-”

“Hey, Mingi was… considerate.” You interjected but failed to make a strong point as you recalled the hilarious combination of a nachos packet and a box of tissues, wrapped in paper that insinuated it was suddenly your birthday.

Whilst Hongjoong had been mortified, and Mingi was stock still, ears burning, the rest of the group had a blast breaking down into a laughing fit that had returned many times over the evening. This selection had obviously been made just after an event three days before the exchange, when you had knocked into Hongjoong full force, making him spill distilled water over much of your top.  

“If you say so, but I bet this year is going to be much more exciting,” he winked. Luckily, he did not spot you stiffen at the action, as he was momentarily distracted by a notification, alerting him of a meeting he had to attend soon.

“Do you know who my secret Santa is, by any chance?” you tried, fluttering your eyelashes in a playful manner. He hummed, and lightly shook his head in disapproval, though his lips were curling into an adorable smile.

“Ah, I cannot neither confirm nor deny that, besides why would I ruin the anticipation? Patience is a virtue, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Says the guy who literally tried to speed run the preparation of a colloidal solution.” Seonghwa chided, looking over from his seat at the two of you, causing Hongjoong to make a sharp turn in his chair and argue that ‘it was an experiment and that he wanted to see what would happen just once’.

This was the never-ending debate of your office, so intrinsic to its function that you all ended up agreeing to set aside parts of the official group budget and of any new funding for something you had deemed ‘chaos expenses’ or, as once kindly called by Yeosang when someone had tampered with the electron microscope, ‘dipshit insurance’. You laughed at the exchange between the oldest members of your group, an unbeknownst to you, sent a shimmering light into your brunette deskmate’s chest.

He would do anything to hear your melodic laugh, or to watch your features soften as you let go of any stress that had plagued you. Thus, he had taken great pains to work behind the scenes for you, be it intercepting some unnecessary paperwork or figuring out laboratory access times for the entire team so that you could have your favourite slots. Sure, these were acts that benefitted everyone, but only your ‘thank you Joongie’ remained with him. The first thing he had taken note about you was just how valuable time was for you. How you spent it, where you spent it, with whom. So, he did the best he could to try to give you time that, as of late, had become his worst enemy.

In a way, you were the opposite of him. Whilst Hongjoong was one to strive for attempting every single thing in the book that was to do with whatever his passion was at a given point in time, you were one to be highly selective and strategic in your decision-making. As soon as he had spotted you in that one class for which he tutored, you gave off the impression of someone who already had everything figured out, or at least carried themselves very well, head held high and prepared to fight for what you wanted.

On the days when he doubted himself, Hongjoong would refer to himself as a jack of all trades, but master of none. The jack who never quite got why you had asked for his help in tutoring you anyways, but oh how grateful he was. You had appeared beside him, a saving grace, when he was about to collapse after over twenty-four hours of no sleep, vision blurry, struggling to process a single phrase. He could put up a powerful front, sure, and when he had presented his research at conferences, or was a representative of the university, and then the institute at various exhibitions and open days he was commended for his eloquence and ability to draw a crowd in. But that was what it was – a front. As soon as he was back to his and Seonghwa’s shared apartment, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and enjoy a steaming cup of coffee and let his mind wander. Reassess his work, seek unique paths to innovation, imagine what discoveries lied out there, waiting for him. To him, ironically, science was an art.

In his eyes, you were what should be under the word ‘scientist’ or ‘researcher’ in the dictionary. Every bit a logistician, you were the goal setter, the ambitious future leader. Leaving the experimental work to your collaborators, you were one to seek rationality and clear-cut formulas, to describe phenomena once and for all. You were driven to find truth in mystery, and positioned yourself as someone who was patient, strong-willed and would not veer off a path you had your mind set on. He had observed that you were equally as selective with who you were to allow to be part of your closer social circle, and very clearly knew your likes and dislikes.

This was why Hongjoong was confident that his blooming feelings were one sided. It was a dreamer versus grounded realist situation, but the dreamer could not help but fall. And fall deep. If he had to describe you in the spirit of the season, you would be a winter night. Freshly fallen snow, illuminated by fairy lights strung on pines next to whimsical brick houses, from which peered the domesticated fashionistas, adorned by baubles and garlands. You were the silent night, calm and bright.

 When he had drawn your name out of the Santa hat that San was approaching everyone with a mere three weeks ago, dread filled him to the brim. It was the first time, since he had come to terms with his not so platonic feelings towards you, that he was being given the chance to give you something. And he was not going to let this slide as a silly tradition that was meant to be there for laughs and eventually, for the gift. No, he wanted something bigger, something that would be valuable to you, or at least make you reminisce.

After a bombardment of your respective inboxes by yet another email chain from one of the seniors, both of you settled down to get to work, pausing only to greet the late comers who had collectively groaned in discontent, comically lamenting the now lukewarm drinks. As you typed you took glances at Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye as he reviewed some notes he stored in a tattered manila folder, delicate ring-adorned hands flicking through the pages. It was easy to fall for the undivided attention he was capable of giving. It was especially easy for you, being someone who could not stop rushing, with a permanent tunnel vision. This was why you loved Christmas, and at this time of year, wanted to believe in miracles.

Hongjoong could sense your intermittent observation with his half-turned body and prayed you would not notice the light nervous tremor he was battling to hide. Albeit it was barely there, like snowflakes ending their dance on warm gloved hands, it was enough to envelop him and make him lose sense, anchoring only to your strong and sanguine being. As he began to gather his belongings and gave you and his friends a light wave to signify his departure to meet with his supervisor, his mind travelled to tonight.

During the year when the entire group had begun working together, and moved into the office, the door of which he had just propped open, by a shared initiative and the lack of desire to drift home to their families earlier than necessary, they had organised a new tradition for themselves. A break from the regular holiday routine in the form of a friendly get-together, with specially curated Christmas playlists, movies, mulled wine (perhaps a little bit too much mulled wine), and every other practice or interpretation that they could think of. So far, there had only been two such events, but not a single one of the large friend group could imagine celebrating in any other fashion.

This year, the festivities were bound to be different for Hongjoong. This year he was finally not foolish enough to deny that all of his wishes were dedicated to you, and that he wanted to be more than background music, more than someone on the side lines to you. Though you sat side by side, saw each other more often than the comfort of your own homes, this type of closeness was not enough for him. Hongjoong could imagine a barrier between you and him, a construction of whosever doing. He was sure you did not need him.

Much as you were sure he had never attributed anything aside from common courtesy and platonic affection to you.

Both you and Hongjoong, unbeknownst to one another, were wishing for the same thing this Christmas.

There was a major change of setting for the party from last year, when the nine of you had been crammed into the apartment that San and Wooyoung shared. By a stroke of pure luck, an uncle of Seonghwa’s had decided to travel abroad for the entire duration of the holidays, and upon hearing that his nephew was to be celebrating with what was presented to him as ‘highly professional company’, offered to give free reign of a cottage outside of the capital to the group. Under Seonghwa’s strict supervision, of course, but that went without mention.

After the clock had striked the mandatory early end to your workday, the group had scrambled to make it in time for the train, arriving at the station with only minutes to spare, and wading through swarms of travellers about to make similar journeys. The near miss had sent you reeling, but you bit back the string of curses and melted into bliss once you had taken in the shared optimistic mood of the crowd. Somehow, even the slow walkers with monstrous suitcases that were ready to burst did not phase you as you sank into your seat by the window.

You glossed over the platform and antique buildings that lined the tracks as the train departed. Previously polluted and unsightly, with soot caking the ventilators and any stone within immediate line of fire from the screeching train brakes, it was now laying under a blanket of glistening white, dormant until the winter chose to retire.

Hongjoong was equally mesmerised, peering over your form while unzipping his hefty bag to take out a camera. It was a vintage number, one he had stumbled across during a trip to an artisan market, and after tinkering with it for what had turned out to be a total of two months, selected it for this trip.

He was adamant, even being questioned repeatedly why he had an affinity for a camera that required film whilst he was working on nano electronics, that this camera was the best way to tell the story of the next couple of days the group was staying at the cottage. And he knew that you would be the first to understand.

As you pressed yourself into your seat to let Hongjoong snap a picture, took his concentration on the scenery behind the viewfinder as amble time to regard and commit the artist behind the camera to memory. How a stubborn lock of rich onyx locks hovered right over his soft brow, having made its escape out of the woolen hat he wore. How his glasses with a delicate golden frame suited his sculpted face perfectly, even tilted down to give way to the apparatus in his steady hands. He was one for keeping memories, snapshots to highlight the priceless instances that others plead for in times of need.

"Stay like that for a second." His dulcet tone took you out of your daze, and you shook your head in embarrassment, realising that he probably caught you ogling him.

"What?"

"Just do it for me, please?" He repeated himself, camera at the ready.

"Oh, come on, don't waste film."

"Who says waste? You'd be the best part." He whispered, unable to return your scrutiny and studying the leather detailing on the body of the camera.

"Cringe, but I'll let it slide." You finally uttered, laughing airily, and striking a pose.

Right when you were in motion, not a thought in mind except about the anticipation of the celebration ahead, Hongjoong snapped a segment of that joy, more satisfied than he let on.

Playful, you shifted in your seat and moved to place your hands over his. You were likely pushing it, but with the seasonal buzz fuelling you, your usual stoicism and preference to influence others with words only, could be stored. Despite the fact that you were of the opinion that you were not right for Hongjoong, and that you did not possess the delicate, nurturing aura he deserved, you were enticed by competition and challenge. Seeing him be friendly to others, going from meeting to meeting to appease even those who had much to learn from him, made you want to fight for his attention. You wanted him to be captivated by you, and you alone.

You took pleasure in his widening eyes and lips parting, as though in longing. It almost made you believe that he too, wanted something more than just the normal chatter about the superficial that you shared, and his avoidance of being in the same room for extended periods of time when it was just the two of you. As his orbs dashed from left to right, up and down, you scanned every part of his oh so irresistible face, and only shared with him a smirk to describe your intentions. In a blink you pried the prized possession out of his slackened grasp and in one swipe got the attached strap over his head. Simultaneously, all hints of the near sadistic taunting evaporated, and you were back to being an upbeat, jolly passenger on her way to indulge in festivities.

"Now you. Pose, Joongie!"

Your transition from an overwhelmingly intense stare down to now giggling and instructing him, singsong and almost childish, drove Hongjoong wild. It was as though under your outwardly collected and amiable demeanour there was a turbulent river, dangerously alluring and intoxicating. Much to his dismay, the moments you let this side of yourself shine through were few and far between, as rare as a blue moon.

It had not been the first time he had encountered this version of you, however. The first, one he did not need photographs of to burn into his retinas, was when he had completely forgotten about his promise to attend the institute-wide New Year's party last year, instead remaining in one of the laboratories, immersed in modelling the design of a nano robot that had been giving him much trouble.

When it was already approaching an hour before the monumental strike of midnight, you had appeared off to his side like a shadow, a lab coat loosely draped over your shoulders and, underneath it, revealing a breathtaking cerulean blue dress that highlighted all of your best features. He gulped. You were beautiful. So beautiful that it left him terrified.

Placing your manicured hands on his stiffened shoulders, you had purred in his ear, demanding he were to join you that instant at the party, adding that it was lonely without him, especially in a sea of tipsy researchers. He had not dared to even try saying anything in response, having become impossibly malleable putty under the challenging, unreadable once-over you gave him that he swore burned his skin.

And when during the party itself you had rapidly disappeared from his company, busying yourself with entertaining far too many of his colleagues for his liking, he came to the revelation that the one who he had considered to be his younger colleague, an ambitious professional who he had enjoyed working with and had a bond with all the way from his evolution through university, had control over his very being.

After that night, all he could envision when you approached him in the laboratories was that New Year’s. Hongjoong was afraid of just how much he yearned for your touch and for your command, directed at him, unintentionally sultry. So, he had made it a point to try use his friends as buffers between him and you, even though it was going against all that he wanted and needed and led to the others figuring out pretty quickly that he was not indifferent.

The first had been Seonghwa, who, admittedly, did well in maintaining his composure when Hongjoong grew undeniably shy around you, but then made the great mistake of mentioning the tension in the lab offhandedly to the resident chaos bringers. And once San and Wooyoung knew, everybody knew. Except you, because what would be the fun in that, right? A couple of times he had been threatened with being locked in a closet with you until he confessed, mainly by Jongho who sat on the other side of him in the office and was fed up with the dynamic that his recently single self did not want to deal with. Every time Hongjoong fought back with promises to confess later, and later, until now, nearing exactly a year since, he felt almost out of time. There was an urgency in his actions in the weeks approaching tonight, and your teasing wasn’t helping at all.

He swallowed his desire to close the space between you, and mimicked how you had posed for him, causing another chuckle. Soon enough, he too, was immortalised in that roll of film, your two photographs as mirror images of one another.

The rest of the journey outside the capital had passed as smoothly as it could, since you did not have to suffer the fate of being sat in front of or behind any of your rowdier friends, namely the discord duo and two of the tallest members of your group, who only needed a small catalyst to turn into hilarious menaces. They had occupied a four-seater with a table on the other side of the carriage and, after Yunho revealed a set of Cards Against Humanity that he had hidden in his mini suitcase, were now cackling uncontrollably at round after round. Eventually, Yeosang, who had previously been fully immersed in daydreaming with his noise-cancelling headphones on, decided to join them, and left the group dumbfounded at his beating San’s five-point lead.

Jongho was right behind you, typing without a minute’s pause on his laptop, and Seonghwa, who had occupied aisle seat behind Hongjoong, was in his own world, disconnected from the turmoil two metres away from him, probably zoning out to ASMR. The entire ride was dedicated to you and your seatmate, and after running out of things that you and him in your positively excited, but nervous states had deemed appropriate to discuss, agreed to share earphones and listen to some festive jams to set the mood. Soon enough, you were both quiet, with Mariah Carey’s hit taking on a slightly different meaning than last season.

“Wooyoung, please be careful and don’t fall down from the table. As much as I do enjoy cleaning I don’t want to clean a crime scene-” Seonghwa’s voice rang out across the house as preparations for the party were in full swing.

“I DO WHAT I WANT, MOM! And I am doing important work here, look at this beauty!” the younger retorted after putting finishing touches on the festive arrangement he decided to do on the living room chandelier, and hopping down from the piece of furniture, spiderman style.

You had to admit, it did not look terrible, though perhaps just a tad garish. At least he tried. You shrugged to yourself and turned back to place the final bauble on the Christmas tree that Jongho had been tasked to find and lug to the cottage as soon as you all had arrived.

The cottage was located on the outskirts of a small town, though even saying outskirts made the settlement appear much larger than it was in reality. It consisted of houses dotted around the wintery landscape and some clusters built up closer to the station and the high street - a single line dedicated to all forms of shopping and recreation now converted into a quaint Christmas market. The residents had not disappointed when it can to decoration either, with their porches and roofs made to look as though the walls were supposed to be made of gingerbread. When the group was making the trek to Seonghwa’s uncle’s vacant abode, you had also spotted a church a little further out, its gothic spires appearing to pierce the rapidly darkening sky and stained glass glowing from what had to be a myriad of candles within. This location looked to be a perfect holiday hallmark movie set.

As soon as you all dropped off your belongings in various rooms, with you being given the honour of having your own one, everyone got to work. The plan of operations, consisting of phases and checkpoints, was under administration of the two eldest, and yourself in the role of what Mingi had called ‘vibe control’, seeing as you were deemed the most festive of the lot considering how overjoyed you were to discover the utter beauty of the place where you were to stay the next few days. Phase one, which was performing a last minute venture to buy up drinks and food and, the crucial element - the tree, had been successful, and transitioned into Seonghwa and a snacking Yeosang cooking up a storm, Jongho and Yunho totally not trying to trip each other up into the deep snow while hanging decorations on the cottage’s façade, and the rest of you running around from room to room, leaving traces of glitter in random nooks and crannies as you tried to not totally ruin the otherwise tasteful interior design with festive visual noise.

For the most part, it ended up looking well put together, and you were proud of the Christmas tree that had been mostly your focus. Aside from the moment when Hongjoong approached you, beaming, a cardboard box in his hands.

“Is this a bomb?”

“Yes, totally, as if Christmas hasn’t already exploded in this house.” He countered, stretching his arms further out to hand the box to you.

“Good point. Then what-” you stopped mid-sentence as you revealed a set of what looked to be homemade tree décor. Test tubes and miniature conical flasks corked up and containing liquids and suspensions of various vivid hues. The creator of the set had to have been skilled, as the corks had very neatly attached metal eyelets, to which the much-needed strings were tied. You hooked one out of the box with your finger and admired how the shade of the contents changed with the flashing lights you had wrapped around the tree.

“Where did you find this?”

“I made it.”

“WHAT?” you shrieked, instantly covering your mouth as you did not want anyone to join in on your conversation just yet. Thankfully, at the same time the front door was flung open and the duo who had been outside ambled in, arguing about something to do with phosphorescence versus fluorescence.

Hongjoong, cheerful, was more than pleased with your reaction. During one of the events hosted in early December by the department head, you had been impressed by an arrangement of clamps that were positioned in a tree-like formation, each one holding a colourful test tube. He had wanted to replicate that moment, that sensation, for you, and so spent a week sprawled on the floor of his bedroom, gluing things together and practically recreating Heisenberg’s lab in his kitchen to make the substances. He had striked exclusively under the cover of night, which had scared Seonghwa out of his wits when he was awoken by the rumble of the kitchen extractor fan and strolled in to discover Hongjoong fully decked out in a face mask, goggles, silicon gloves, and pyjamas with teddy bears on them.

“You are going to take a photo of this beauty after we are done right?” You were ready to give him countless pecks on his cheeks with how adorable he looked blushing.

“Sure.”

“Let’s make this a chemis-tree then. Help?” You passed the test tube you were holding to him and set the box down carefully on the ground between you. In comfortable silence, you two moved around the tree, occasionally handing items across, in a tranquil symbiosis.

Hongjoong savoured the moments you accidentally brushed your hands with his, and inadvertently took in the light scent of your perfume as you snaked around him to re-hang a bauble in the shape of an angel. He wouldn’t be able to guess what brand it was even if he tried, but what he was sure of was just how well it suited you. With white floral top notes giving way to something much deeper and darker, it was your daring magnetism in a bottle. A stark contrast to the sweater you were wearing – a red, grey, and white combination with a design depicting reindeers dashing through the snow, with some hearts and trees dotted around along with ornate bands at the cuffs, base, and collar. You truly embodied a variety of contrasts, an enigma that drew him in.

You hovered for a moment, deep in thought as you spun the angel with your fingers, letting a sigh escape you as you hung it on a not yet overloaded part of the tree.

“What’s up?” Hongjoong was curious, seeing that the little toy had evoked a new emotion in you.

“Just remembered how when I was a kid, I loved to make snow angels. Like, really loved it. Did not care how deep the snow was, just let me lie in it and I was happy.” You recounted fondly while Hongjoong turned his shoulders to completely face you. Standing closer than friends should be.

“Let’s do it, then.” He was feeling courageous, wanting to repay you for your flirtations on the train ride to the cottage. You laughed, lightly tapping his shoulder.

“I think I am too old to do that sober now, need a bit more Dutch courage to go hop in a snowdrift.”

“I’ll make sure to give you a big mug of mulled wine then, angel.” He informed; his expression rather coy. You liked this kind of Hongjoong. Not wanting to drop the tension, you took the tiniest step forward, and murmured, low and slow:

“You go down with me, darling.”

Before Hongjoong could respond to your concealed provocation, a yell from an incredibly vexed Seonghwa near deafened you.

“WHO THE FUCK TURNED ELF ON THE SHELF INTO A STRIPPER? I SWEAR WOO IF IT WAS YOU, I WILL REARRANGE YOU LIKE A LEGO SET-”

“YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!”

Now that sounded about right for a domestic, festive scene. You and Hongjoong immediately began to search for the exhibit, finding it at the top of the stairs, where an innocent elf was made to be wrapped around one of the railings in a suggestive pose, and when a flash of bright red hair zoomed past you with an ashen blonde ball of anger following right behind, you guffawed, not stopping until your ribs began to hurt.

Poor Seonghwa had yet to find the other elves that were set out in unconventional poses and hidden in random places around the house. You personally had spotted one inside the bathroom cabinet and decided to let it be. Out of sight out of mind. An act commended by San who was tiptoeing out of one of the bedrooms, three more elves dangling from his clenched fist. He had simply given you a nod and placed his free index finger to his lips, which you did too in response, tapping a couple of times to show solidarity.

After the wave of life-or-death tag, and the gathering of the entire group in the living room, with Mingi having finally come down after napping through the majority of the prep, you breezed through setting the table, arranging Secret Santa gifts under the tree by transferring them from a grocery store bag that had been hanging on the office door for a week to avoid anyone having any clues, and then, finally, getting to sit down, take a deep breath, and simply enjoy.

Every bit of this was incredible. The food, the company, heck, even the stripper elf that Seonghwa ended up not having the heart to take down because ‘he did not want to be a Scrooge’. It was obvious that with every passing hour, the buzz was getting to you all, as the chatter was getting louder and louder, the jokes more and more ridiculous, and the questions more and more personal.

You were amidst an animated conversation with Yeosang about wanting to try snowboarding sometime and planning an imaginary trip to some mountain range far away when you were suddenly called for by Wooyoung, who was sitting at the far end of the table from you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he slurred a little, having been ‘taste-testing’ the spiced brew since before dinner, “are you dating anyone?” Yeosang grimaced, mouthing a ‘good luck’ to you, knowing that once Wooyoung entered his relationship talk state, he was near unstoppable unless some extreme topic change was made.

“Bro your boyfriend is sitting right next to you, and no thank you I don’t want a threesome.” You quipped, inducing a ripple of chuckles across the group. But Wooyoung would not let up, even though San was repeatedly nudging him under the table.

“Nooo… you know what I mean. Just generally. Like, do you have a designated mistletoe partner?” you did not like where this was going. Not one bit. Hongjoong, who was sitting on the other side of the table, right in front of you, visibly tensed, alarm bells ringing in his head.

“Uh, not at the moment.” You could not exactly lie, nor did you want to, seeing as the person you would not mind taking that role was right there, and for some reason looked oddly fearful.

“Great!” He exclaimed, and in a matter of seconds was standing on his chair, bending over the entire table, holding a mistletoe branch… over the table and not so discreetly changing its angle from you to Hongjoong, and back again.

You locked gazes. Panic rose in your throat. You did not enjoy this feeling; control being taken away from you, your friend toppling you over and shining a spotlight on you. And now a metaphorical knife was being wedged into your heart from having to witness what you perceived to be as total unwillingness in Hongjoong’s every fibre. Did you want this? Yes. Like this? Hell no.

Seconds passed like hours of torture, and each sound seemed to have amplified thousand-fold in volume. Lost, you were unable to decide your next course of action. Logic, your go-to for any situation, had failed. Emotions were a wreck. Oh, how you wanted this to stop. Anything you had hoped for until this moment shattered before you, scattering agonising pieces in all directions.

Was this his chance? It must be. Had he been sitting next to you, the space would have been no more in an instant. But the separation, once again that damn barrier, now also in physical form was preventing him from following through with what he wanted to express. This did not mean that he did not think Wooyoung had pulled a dick move, especially towards you, but Hongjoong had imagined what it would be like kissing you under the mistletoe. Wishful thinking, it seemed. All he could read across the table was discontent, and the recoil unlike that of a cat’s. He was running out of the time that he had wanted to give you.

Before either of you could do anything, Wooyoung gave out a yelp and almost toppled onto the remnants of dinner, saved only by a very quick to react San, who wrapped his arms around the slipping legs and weighed them down. Everyone was quick to turn their heads to the culprit – Jongho who was sitting unperturbed, arms crossed over his chest. Yeosang had been the saving grace, whispering for the youngest to figure something out in ‘Jongho style’. So, taking one of the apples from the fruit bowl, he took aim and hurled it with all his might where the sun did not shine.

“My bad bro, I hit the wrong head.”

Wooyoung was doubled over, and the mistletoe was lying all but forgotten among the randomly arranged side dishes. Seonghwa was failing to stifle a satisfied laugh, while Mingi was quite literally gasping for air, hiding his face in the tablecloth as Yunho was rubbing his back, a grin on his face. You let out a breath you did not know you were holding, and you absent-mindedly picked at your sweater.

“Right!” Hongjoong clapped to get everybody’s attention, wishing for nothing more than to move on from this ordeal. “How about before we get too drunk, we do the gift exchange, yeah? And DJ-Mingi, blast the tunes a little louder, it’s Christmas after all.” He pointed at the taller male, who was currently wiping tears from his eyes, still breathing heavy from the fit of giggles.

“Aye aye, captain!” he saluted and in a couple of strides was at the Bluetooth speakers, which now began blasting Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.

As everyone got up and headed to the huge u-shaped sofa, something stopped you. Mystified, you noticed that the mistletoe branch was gone.

The incident was brushed over soon enough, and the group was now losing their minds over each other’s gifts. This year, there was a very interesting mix of both humour gifts and genuinely meaningful statements, but that was to be expected from a Secret Santa where one of the rules was to ‘go ham’.

Yeosang wiped his forehead in mock relief as he was safe from torment: he received a giftcard to his favourite fried chicken delivery place and a t-shape tool for his skateboard – an ode to his most popular complaint being that the wheels did not feel right, or he swore he had to replace something. Yunho wasn’t quite so lucky, on the other hand, having received a tub of Vaseline with a printed note taped onto it that read ‘for the times that your supervisor fucks you over’ – it was a known fact that his supervisor, an elderly and angry man in his sixties, was notoriously hard to impress, and at this point probably made Yunho lose too many nerve cells.

You were Seonghwa’s Santa this year and tried your best not to show your delight at him basically bouncing on the sofa as he unwrapped the set of holiday-themed lint rollers that you had bought. Then, it was your turn and your friends followed your movements as you searched under the Christmas tree to pick out the gift with your name. Sitting back down on the couch, you spun it in your hands. The container was two centimetres thick and square in shape, leaving you perplexed as to what was behind the wrapping. You initially thought it could be an album by an artist you had been raving about recently but had to delete that from your mind considering it would be way over budget. You peeled away the washi tape that was holding the paper together to be met by a wooden box.

Turning it the right way around, you lifted the lid, and gasped. Inside was a necklace – a thin thread-like gold chain, and on it an intricate pendant – a tiny clock, its hands frozen on eight thirty. You were overwhelmed, but from your lips rolled out one word of gratitude after another. You ignored a now tipsy Mingi booing and calling out that it was probably over budget. Maybe you would have agreed seeing as that was technically a rule but shit, you were over the moon. You flipped the pendant around and spotted a message engraved into the back, so small that it was barely there – only for you to cherish and hold close to your heart.

Forever is composed of nows.

Emily Dickinson, you note. A poem you had quoted, time and time again. But not to just any audience. You look up, cautious. The gift unwrapping had moved on, with Jongho currently being the centre of attention, so you use the chance to seek out the one who you were sure was your Secret Santa. And sure enough, his attention was already on you. As you had wished so many times. Kim Hongjoong. Your Christmas.

He was praying that you would like the present. To the point of mumbling to himself and flittering his fingers over the throw on top of which he was seated. The idea had come to him when he had to stay late in the office, waiting for a response from his supervisor, who he had no idea had already left for the night. As minutes turned into an hour, and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock, with the outdoor noise having been absorbed by yet another snowfall, the pieces came together.

This quote encapsulated you both. On the one hand, you enjoyed it because the notion of ‘now’ being the way to shape the intangible future motivated you to remain organised, diligent, and focused on a specific path. On the other hand, he respected it for the interpretation that this forever had so many parts that it was crucial to not waste them on fixation and if they were to be captured, it was through the lenses of his beloved cameras. This collection of five words stuck a balance between Hongjoong and yourself, and explained that maybe, you were not quite so different after all.

The rest of the guys were tidying up the wrapping paper and some headed to the kitchen to carry the pot of mulled wine and the saucer, along with a champagne bottle Yeosang had produced out of the blue. You and Hongjoong let this particular ‘now’ continue for a little longer, knowing smiles on your faces, and the previous awkwardness over dinner erased. As you held onto the open box containing the invaluable message, you sauntered over to him.

“Thank you.”

He bit his lip as he lifted his head.

“May I?”

“Yes please.”

You turned and exposed your neck to him, moving your luscious hair to the side. Again, those black patchouli base notes that filled his head with only you. Hongjoong could finally pinpoint the rest of the bouquet, having recalled his housemate explaining the terminology after he had splurged on a luxury cologne and was trying to explain himself. He reached to take the necklace from the box, and not so accidentally caressed the sensitive skin as he clasped the lock. You explained that you wanted to see how it looked, so the two of you made a beeline for the full-length mirror at the entrance into the cottage.

You were inspecting the necklace in the mirror, still in shock at how it spoke volumes, nearing an inexplicable divinity. His body moving on its own accord, Hongjoong, who was standing behind you, gently placed his hands on your hips, and breath hot against your ear, complimented:

“I knew it would look brilliant on you.”

Your attention drifted back to Hongjoong, locking gazes with him through the mirror. He was all smiles, but for a split second you spotted something much more passionate. Intrigued, you wanted to test how far you could go before the man would snap. You were never one to back down from a game like this.

“Thank you, though I don’t think these clothes do it justice.”

“Hm?” you felt his grip tighten just a little, as his eyes shifted to your necklace once more.

“You know, maybe without them it would look even better, don’t you think?”

And there it was. The darkness only you could lure out from deep within him. A distant howl turned into a thunder, rolling across his body in waves. A man ready to do anything to drown in the turbulent river that had tantalised him for so long. A man lost in the silent night, at the beck and call of your voice that haunted him wherever he went. Hongjoong let out a shaky breath, his chest almost flush against your back as he held his head over your shoulder, level and mirroring yours.

“Do you know what you do to me?”

You smirked. He was still so heedful of you, navigating your ever-changing maze ever so slowly. But now, unlike before, you had a guarantee that the Hongjoong you had deemed to be attentive to everyone was, in fact, at your feet. You could finally read how he behaved around you. The adorable shyness, the inability to be alone with you for too long… it all made sense. Cute, precious Hongjoong. It was probably not the best conclusion to come to, but you felt powerful. Until the young man suddenly gripped your waist and spun you around, pulling you towards him until his face was so close you could count his beautiful lashes, study the intricate patterns of his irises, clouded over with emotion he had never revealed before, enticing you. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded and lips wet with his saliva.

“I’ll repeat myself, angel. Do you know what you do to me?” the pet name that had stuck with him since when you had decorated the Christmas tree slipped out, making you exhale sharply. You were enjoying this. Boy was getting braver.

You shifted the dynamic once more as you raised the hand that was not loosely holding the box and cupped Hongjoong’s chin, feeling him gulp at your boldness. You pulled away from him slightly, but only to observe as you traced his bottom lip with your thumb. It was so easy to make him melt once, after all these years, you appeared to have figured out the chemistry of Hongjoong. He shuddered under your touch, one hand drifting down back to your hip, attempting to press you against him, which you deny with a teasing poke of the box square in his chest.

“I can make an educated guess, darling.” Two could play the game as you enunciated the words so that each one fuelled his desire. Your index finger trailed under his chin, terminating the sensation with an instantaneous flick.

He groaned, desperate to end this push and pull once and for all, when you completely freed yourself while his mind was still enchanted. You had heard the others, still in the living room, getting louder, with someone loudly asking where you went. As if nothing at all had happened, you gave Hongjoong a lopsided grin and pointed at the doorway, informing him that everyone was waiting. Like hell they were, probably took notice of the absence at random and would have forgotten it then and there. As you ambled away, he bent over, stretching to try easing the unbearable tension under which he had been, thanks to you. Once more, he looked in the mirror, running a hand through his hair a couple of times, and yet the only thing he could see was your reflection.

Much of the rest of the night was dedicated to letting completely loose. Just like that night last year, you were purposefully oblivious to him tracking your every move. Paid no mind to just how attractive you looked, dancing to the pulsating beat of a song by The Weeknd that someone decided to put on. Evidently, champagne had started pouring. The night was turning into a blur for Hongjoong, as he struggled to process his actions. He had to plan something. And that something had to happen sooner rather than later.

He chose to slink away from the room right when now a very drunk San, Wooyoung and Seonghwa were recreating the infamous dance from Mean Girls to Jingle Bell Rock, laughter roaring in his ears and with his departure he finally managed to get you to turn and face him. He beckoned you to come to him with a wave of a hand, and turned to exit into the entrance.

When you followed and joined him, you found he was in the process of zipping up his winter jacket, having already tugged on all the woollen accessories.

“Where are you going? Stuff is wild in there.” You approached him to try and take his hat off, but he sidestepped towards the front door and silently motioned for you to dress up as well. Confused, but too interested to see the outcome of this bewildering proposal, you agreed.

When you signalled that you were ready by giving Hongjoong a double thumbs up, he grabbed the keys from a nearby counter and opened the door letting a chilly breeze hit you. You swore your mind was going through a thousand calculations a picosecond as you were trying to figure out the intentions of the man in front of you. This Christmas was definitely not like any other. As he walked further and further away from the cottage, until the lights emanating from the décor and from within did not hit the snow and you were hidden away from sight by a couple of evergreens, you repeated the quote that was now above your chest to yourself, letting go and trusting the man who was leading you into the landscape.

He stopped, waited until you caught up to him and were standing right next to him. And then, fell right on his back. You squealed in terror, assuming the worst. You peered at him, but were met with a very happy Hongjoong, who spread his limbs into a star shape, and began to wave them around. When you did not move, he stopped and shouted out, disappointment laced through his words.

“Y/N, didn’t you say you were a pro at making snow angels? Show me what you got.”

And just like that, you were also in the snow, giggling like the child you had been when you had done this last. Flailing around, kicking bits up in the air only for it to fall on you or him. You relished in the sensation, since it reminded you of something you had intentionally been repressing for the majority of your life – the ability to enjoy yourself freely, experience things that were not planned ahead and treating your existence as an ongoing work of art.

You were knocked out of your reveries with a snowball landing smack on your nose. You had not realised that Hongjoong had already gotten up and was aiming for another shot. It was on. You skillfully rolled away as he threw the winter weapon, picking up your own ammo as you did so. Once you were on your back again, the snowball was ready, and you got a clean headshot, having aimed for the sowed-on tag on his hat. As he was brushing snowflakes out of his eyes, you rose to your feet, hopping away and throwing two more roughly shaped ones. The game did not continue for long, though, because as you took some return hits you pounced on him, with the plan of attaining payback for the first snowball.

Both of you toppled on the ground and you laughed triumphantly, your body flat against his, nose to nose. While you were trying to push yourself up and get a grip on the ground to either side of Hongjoong, he pulled something out of the breast pocket of his winter jacket, raised it above the two of you, and pointed at it.

“Would you look at that? Guess we have to do something about it. Got any ideas?”

This man was unbelievable. That was one point on the endless list of why you were smitten.

“So that is where the mistletoe went!” you exclaimed, slowly leaning in.

“And this time I am not letting you go.” His promise sounding gruff, he pulled you in by the collar and finally, your lips collided.

The snow that had fallen from your clothing onto him rapidly melted as you sank deeper into the mutual craving. Starting slow, you got to know one another, keen to map out each sigh. You had fantasised about this for so long that it felt like you were in a feverish daydream. But nothing could compare to the real softness of his lush lips, the irresistible nips at yours and how he snaked under your coat and sweater, the coldness sending you into a frenzy.

As you repositioned yourself to gain more closeness, and as such grinded against him, you heard him hiss. He responded to your motion by pulling you closer and, his lips never leaving yours, tilting your head slightly to beg for entrance. You hummed in approval, mouth opening slightly to allow for his tongue to explore your further. Not letting him enjoy all the fun, you joined in the fight for dominance and savoured his addictive taste.

As you pulled away to catch your breath, Hongjoong looked completely at your mercy. Eyes still shut, panting, flushed and filled with want. He was beyond saving, left only as a vessel to be guided by you. There, illuminated by the moon and stars, you were ethereal. Your every angle and shapely curve was one he wanted to adore and worship. Your form, hovering above him, was nothing short of flawless. At the same time, within, you concealed a lethal sin, but one for which he would fall countless times, and willingly sacrifice himself for good. Your melodic laugh rang out over him.

“We are going to freeze out here-” You stated, unable to finish the thought as Hongjoong pulled you in again, growling against your lip and pushing himself against you. You sighed in pleasure as he dragged your scarf down to reveal your neck and planted rough kisses trailing from your jawline, stopping to claim you midway down. As you leaned over and peppered the side of his face with attention and nibbled his ear, sending a shiver through him, you stopped to purr:

“Though it seems you know a way to warm up.”

“You are a devil in disguise, Y/N.”

“Yours truly.”

“Mine?”

“And so are you.”

“Oh, come here.”

This was the kind of Christmas you were willing to enjoy every time of year. Together with the one who completed you in every way imaginable. From your ambition to his artistry, your tendency for timeliness to his tendency for timelessness.

Whilst you were opposites in some ways, you struck an unparalleled balance that made you stronger together. An enciphered, irreplicable chemistry that spelled ‘forever’.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Kingdom Hearts 4 Challenge Day 6: A World to Revisit

Atlantica

(So, I swear all of my posts really aren't meant to be about Kairi. Like, I was going to make this cool manip where it looked like Sora was saving Melody from drowning, but my Sony Vegas refused to open for some reason? So I just decided to post these similar images of Melody and Kairi instead. That being said... while I don't need Kairi to be the one to go to a The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea world if we ever got one--I'd be more than okay with it being Sora--that would be cool. I'd love to see mermaid Kairi, since Kairi is named for the sea. And Kairi's name can even mean "melody." And she has a lot in common with Ariel. I even suspect she was somewhat based on Ariel, but anyway.)

The reason I would want Atlantica is honestly just because I would want a pretty underwater world again with the Unreal Engine graphics. And that can be a world that we've never been to before, like, Atlantis: The Lost Empire. But if we don't get a new one, then I would want an old one like Atlantica here. Plus... even though I don't think this movie is the greatest. At all. I feel like it's okay... and depending on how they handle it, the KH writers could potentially make it better, with what they add to it. Also, I feel like if we go to Atlantica one more time--with better swimming controls, and in an attempt that isn't a musical--we could finally redeem the world. And that would be great to see.

And now, for whatever reason, I'm going to list some other worlds I'd be more than okay with returning (even though I think we were only supposed to list one. Shh.)

Wonderland: But only if the world is expanded and it's a "sequel," via it being based on Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland.

Deep Jungle: I know this will surely never happen, since I know Disney has lost the rights to Tarzan. But on the off-chance they ever got the rights back somehow, I definitely wouldn't mind seeing this world back again, perhaps adapting some of the stories from the TV show, like the stuff with Princess La.

Agrabah: I definitely want to go here one more time and to have the "Aladdin and the King of Thieves" story depicted. (I probably would even prefer this even over Atlantica, actually, even though I want that pretty underwater level). This was one of the better Disney sequels, after all. And Sora most definitely deserves to be there for Aladdin and Jasmine's wedding.

Neverland: I wouldn't be opposed to the second Peter Pan movie being adapted.

The Land of Dragons: I'd be all for us having Mulan II, actually.

The Beast's Castle: I've always wanted "Beauty and the Beast and the Enchanted Christmas." I want to fight Forte. LOL. While I doubt it will happen, for obvious reasons, I feel like they could find a way to do it: like Belle writes Sora and the gang a part of her and the Beast's story that they don't know about (the Enchanted Christmas story) and sends it to them as a gift (maybe even for Christmas?), and once Sora opens it, he somehow gets pulled into said story.

Pirates of the Caribbean: I wouldn't mind a "Dead Men Tell No Tales" world.

The Lion King II: Simba's Pride would be awesome.

I would also kill for Cinderella III: A Twist in Time.

While part of me is loath to mention this one... I feel like no one was completely satisfied with the La Cité des Cloches world in Dream Drop Distance (because of lack of NPCs and that kind of thing). And there is a "The Hunchback of Notre Dame II" that Disney made. Absolutely no one likes this movie, and for good reason. But I don't know... I would be willing to tolerate it, just to see this world in the quality it deserves. And maybe Square Enix could somehow make it better... actually, surely not. But like I said: I could tolerate this just to run around Notre Dame in pretty Unreal Engine graphics.

I know that originally with DDD, the plan was Sora to go to all of the original Fantasia locations and for Riku to go to the ones in Fantasia 2000. But then they realized there were enough locations in the first movie for them both to go to, and they didn't need to crank out the sequel after all (or something like that). So I certainly wouldn't mind getting Fantasia 2000 now, in KHIV.

Tangled I'd love to go here again, if we get to see some of the cool plots from the TV show, that I've watched on YouTube. LOL

Arendelle We all know we'll be going here. It isn't even a question. I just hope that this time, Disney gives Square Enix much more freedom (let Elsa and Anna be party members, please). Since Frozen II is kind of hit and miss. Square Enix could really make something cool with it--like they could have with Frozen in KHIII--if they're allowed some creativity.

Wreck-It Ralph Because no one, and I mean no one, wanted us to first experience this world in KHUX, tbh.

Radiant Garden I just really want to finish some of the plot threads there that are still hanging.

Destiny Islands I just really want to be able to go back here and play, dangit! And maybe finally get to explore the main island!

Shibuya Just let us meet Neku, Shiki, Beat, Joshua, and Rhyme in their Shibuya (even if it's an in the credits thing), if Quadratum isn't theirs and we're not going to meet them (or the Wicked Twisters) in the game, otherwise.

[malum-forev]

Game On: Chapter Two

Prologue Chapter One

“So, a little birdy told me you were talking to Buck last night at the bar.” Steve said as he wrapped his arm around Natasha’s shoulder, bringing her closer to him. The groan that followed was to be expected so, he continued bothering his situationship’s roommate. “The two were seen standing closely to each other, I think physical contact was even reported.” 

Natasha laughed at Steve’s reporter voice and even added a: “Steve, I have just received confirmation that a certain Mr. James B. Barnes held (Y/N)’s face.”

“Okay, okay.” (Y/N) finally spoke. “Although I liked your little skit, you two must stop annoying me. Especially since my lecture is about to be as much torture as this thing.” She waved her pointer finger at them and rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to tell us what happened yesterday? Or should we keep going?” The redhead asked her friend.

“Nothing happened,” She responded, letting a little sigh of relief as they turned a corner and she saw the building she was supposed to enter just a few feet away. “I went outside to get a breath of fresh air and I guess Barnes decided he wasn’t done bothering me.”

“If that’s true, then why would you let him grab you like that?” Steve replied quickly, not wanting to let her drop the subject. He, like all of his friends, really wanted (Y/N) and Bucky to put aside their differences but, it seemed that wasn’t going to happen soon. 

Natasha cleared her throat and raised one of her hands, pretending to hold up an apple. “To paraphrase Dr. Seuss ‘You wouldn’t touch him with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole.” 

(Y/N) let out a small laugh. “How very festive of you but, need I remind you we still have to get over Thanksgiving to be able to sing Christmas songs.” Was her only reply, luckily they were at the door of the building. 

Steve looked down at his watch. “Saved by the bell I guess, but I hope we’re going to be able to keep bothering you this afternoon?”

“Sadly, I am not going to make it to the bar tonight. I seriously have to finish my essay.” She smiled apologetically and hiked her school bag up her arm, trying to leave the conversation as soon as possible. 

“C’mon you said it was due today. You’ll have to turn it in by 12pm which means you have from that time till 6am to be with us.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows. 

(Y/N) was about to decline once more when Carol Danvers, one of her classmates, bumped into her and gave the most awful news in one single sentence. “Can you believe Professor Williams just extended the deadline until after the break!” She said happily as she walked past (Y/N) and entered the building. “See you inside!”

Once Carol sped past the group, Natasha and Steve gave (Y/N) a pleading look with puppy eyes and all and, she gave in. 

“Well, my schedule just cleared so, I guess I will see you guys at the bar after all.” She sighed, the couple just nodded and happily went on with their day. 

A few hours later, (Y/N), Natasha and Wanda were getting ready in their shared apartment.

“I just don’t understand why you make such a big deal out of going out.” Wanda said while curling her hair, not looking back at her roommate. “You used to love going out when we were freshmen.” 

(Y/N) only nodded and sipped on her drink, wanting to be as numb as possible for when they got to the bar. 

“I remember a certain someone even got the ‘Keg Queen’ title one night.” Natasha started laughing. 

“I guess I just got really into my classes this year.” She sighed. “You know law school is pretty demanding.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Wanda said rolling her eyes. “I just want you to promise you won’t fight with Bucky tonight.”

“I will not make promises I cannot keep.” She responded as she reapplied her lipstick.

“C’mon, please. Look, if you promise you won’t be annoying, I promise to give you the good bed at my parents’ house this weekend.” Natasha said trying to be convincing.

“Damn that proposal sounds extremely enticing.” (Y/N) said narrowing her eyes but finally let out a smile. “I will try to sit as far away from Barnes as possible. That is the only thing I can do to keep things calm tonight. As for my mouth, I cannot respond for her. She says things I cannot control.”

“You could use your mouth to make out with him. Everyone knows you two have the hots for each other.” Wanda said trying to hide her laugh behind her seltzer can. 

(Y/N) gasped and put her hand on her chest. “You take that back. You have never in your life offended me this way. I will sit as far away from you too tonight.”

Wanda’s laugh only grew and she came closer to (Y/N) to give her a one-sided hug as her roommate stood immobile. “Fine, I’ll take it back.” Wanda said and it was only then that (Y/N) relaxed and gave her a pat on the back.

“You know I’m not one for physical touch.” (Y/N) mumbled as she awkwardly stood waiting for Wanda to stop hugging her. 

“That’s not what it looked like yesterday outside of the bar.” Natasha said grabbing her keys and coat. 

“Will you please let that go.” (Y/N) said as she slipped out of Wanda’s arms. 

“What happened yesterday?” Wanda questioned with a smile. “Did I miss something important?” Added wiggling her eyebrows.

“A certain someone was seen outside the bar with a certain Bucky Barnes.” Nat said while closing the door behind the three of them. “It is said that hugging and face touching was involved.”

(Y/N) only groaned, which earned a: “I told you! I could cut the sexual tension with a butter knife.” From Wanda. 

At the bar, (Y/N) was having a suspicious amount of fun. The music was nice, the company was even better and it wasn’t at all packed. This combination, she discovered, really calmed her anxiety and an outburst was less likely to happen. She looked over at her two best friends and smiled, they really only wanted the best for her, which often included dragging her out of the apartment and/or library so she could get at least one hour of sunlight and fresh air a day. She headed over to the bar and sat down at one of the stools, thinking about how lucky she was to find them at the end of her freshmen year, especially after the horrible ‘friendships’ she made during her first semester. (Y/N) shook her head, as if that was going to erase the awful memories. She relaxed a bit after she ordered her third martini of the night.

“I’ll have what she’s having.” 

“Oh please don’t.” She mumbled under her breath and put her head in her hands. 

“Hey Doll, how’s this lovely evening treating you?” Bucky asked, scooting his stool dangerously close to her.

“Don’t you wish the earth would just swallow you up sometimes?” (Y/N) asked the bartender as he pushed the martini closer to her. 

“Personally, I think this night has been incredible. Don’t you?” Bucky asked ignoring the fact that she still hadn’t looked over at him. “Or, do you need for us to go outside again so you can see my eyes. Maybe that will make you think this night is incredible.”

She finally looked over at him, the look was accompanied by an unimpressed expression on her face. “Are you still thinking about that stupid thing I said yesterday?” She laughed a bit, which always made him loose a little bit of his confidence; sometimes it was hard to know when she was laughing with him or at him. Although the latter, was usually the case. “I only said that so you would stop touching me. I don’t know where those filthy paws have been.”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders a bit and took a swig from her martini, and before she could say anything he replied: “You wanted me to stop touching you? Or were you scared of what could happen if I didn’t?”

She scoffed and turned her back to him, quickly finishing what was left of her drink. He quickly appeared on the other side and continued. “Look, I just want us to get along again. Just like old times.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows and shot him a look of utter confusion. “Just like old times?” She asked in a mocking tone.

“Yeah, I mean we hung out a couple of times in freshman year. And if I remember correctly we were actually friends.” He said.

The look of confusion on her face quickly turned to one of anger, or was it disappointment? Bucky couldn’t quite figure it out. 

“Yeah, I guess we did hang out a couple of times.” She muttered, grabbing her clutch from the counter, and leaving the bar. She walked quickly towards her roommates who were sitting at a booth with the rest of her friends, and quickly said goodbye.

“Already? It’s not even half past midnight.” Wanda groaned.

“Look, I made you a promise.” (Y/N) turned to Natasha and turned her head to see that Bucky was only a couple of steps behind her. “But it seems if I want to keep my promise I will have to leave.”

“Buck, could you please stop bothering (Y/N). She wants to leave because of you.” Steve said to his best friend.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky said with a lasting smile. “Have my comments got you all hot and bothered?” He said taking his arm and placing it on top of her shoulders. 

She pushed him away and turned to her friends. “You see what I have to put up with?”

Sam, Natasha, Steve, and Wanda all nodded. “The court accepts your petition to leave.” Sam said directing his hand towards the door.

“But!” Natasha said before (Y/N) could turn around. “Bucky’s punishment will be to accompany you to our apartment.”

“His punishment?!” (Y/N) shrieked. “It sounds like you want to punish me.”

“I guess two birds with one stone. You were being quite annoying too.” Natasha replied, taking her beer towards her mouth as Steve placed his lips on her temple. 

“Does the court have anything to say about this ungodly punishment?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Nope.” Wanda said with a smile. “He needs to walk you back. The streetlights have not been working recently and I want you to get back home safe.”

“That’s not very feminist forward of you.” (Y/N) replied, placing her hand on her hip. “You mean I need a man to accompany me or else I won’t be seen as very ‘lady-like’? I am a strong, confident woman who doesn't need a man to-”.

“No,” Wanda interrupted. “I’m saying there are insane creeps around the campus who won’t want to come near you if Bucky is there.”

Bucky raised his hand. “Yes?” Sam said. “Um, do I get any say in this?” Bucky asked and the ‘court’ shook their heads. 

“Fine.” She huffed. “Let’s just get out of here.” 

(Y/N) quickly got her coat and exited the bar, wanting to put as much distance as she could between her and her appointed companion. 

“Hey!” Bucky shouted as he jogged towards her. “A little thank you would be nice. Or even just slowing down so I won’t risk falling onto the ground.” He said looking down at the snow that had started to cover the streets.

“Thank you for what?” She questioned. “I could’ve walked back to my apartment all by myself. I’m a big girl.”

“I mean I am saving you from potential predators by walking with you.” Bucky said while puffing his chest, trying to look menacing. 

She let out a laugh. “Yeah right. You, protecting me. I have a better chance of dropping out of college and joining the rodeo than that happening.”

She immediately regretted saying the words that exited her mouth. It was like the venom just had to slip out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky was stopped in his tracks by her comment. 

She stopped too and turned around. “Nothing. It meant nothing.”

“No, seriously. Look, I don’t know what that thing you said is about but I would never want you to think I don’t want the best for you. And to keep you safe.” His eyes softened as he said this. “I would never want or let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah right.” She muttered and turned back around, keeping up her quick pace. Rage was filling her body. She was one of the best law students there was but she had only one flaw. Whenever she was fighting for something that involved her own problems, tears would quickly follow. Fearing he might actually see her cry twice in one week, (Y/N) kept her back towards him and started walking even faster than before.

“You know, you should join the track team. That powerwalk of yours is pretty impressive.” Bucky huffed as he finally caught up to her, meeting at her apartment door. 

“Yeah, I’ll look into that.” She said quietly as she unlocked the door. She quickly stepped in and said goodbye to James.

He saw her eyes and put his hand on the door to stop her from closing it on his face. “You know you can tell me anything right?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, avoiding his gaze. 

“I don’t know what I did, or why you’re eternally mad at me. But I do consider you my friend. And I want to be yours again.” He said, taking his hand off the door. “So if that means I have to walk you home every single night for a year, that’s what I’ll do. Or at least until you tell me what I did wrong, let me fix it.” 

“James, you did nothing wrong.” She lied. “We just have very different personalities. And I would rather you stay far away from me.” 

Bucky was cut off by the slamming of the door and left dumbfounded. “Well, whatever it is I will change it. I am determined that we will become friends.” He said through the door and before turning back towards the bar, he added: “And I know you heard that even if you don’t say anything back!”

On the other side of the door, (Y/N) pressed her back against the solid wood and let the tears flow. She sometimes wished she could turn back time and forget everything that happened those first semesters of freshman year, it certainly would make her life easier and would have less tears involved. 

Chapter Three

[moregraceful]

dallas stars-flavor wip wednesday for morale (too many meetings)(too much coffee)(ran out of protein waffles)(kaiser stressing me out with how proactive they're being). please be very nice to me!!

;;

Sundays mornings in their loud apartment building full of busybodies and drunkards means one of three things: church bells for the good, sex for the damned, and rescuing the Johnston boy from his siblings.

Rescuing is a big word for it. Wyatt just shows up on their doorstep with his big brown eyes and empty stomach every Sunday morning and Jamie folds like a cheap card table. He’s a sucker, so what. Kid has a bunch of siblings and only half a plate of food every weekend. There’s like ten of ‘em crammed into a two bedroom apartment. Jamie and Jordie have plenty of space for the kid, plenty of time, plenty of food.

Today Wyatt is elbows deep in flapjacks at the kitchen table when Jamie leaves his room. Jamie slept badly, though he doesn’t remember why, and he’s usually up earlier just to get some peace and quiet before the day starts.

Wyatt makes a face. “Jamie, you drop a bottle of aftershave in your room? Jesus. Smells like Christmas in here.”

Jordie turns away from the stove and wacks the kid on the back of the head with an oven mitt. Wyatt yelps. “Don’t fuckin’ swear, or your ma will beat the shit out of me,” Jordie admonishes him.

“Jesus isn’t a swear word—”

“It is on a Sunday, kid.”

“Aw, Jordie, come on, I’m no kid.”

Wyatt is, if Jamie recalls correctly, all of fifteen years old. Too young for conscription during the war, at any rate. Thank Christ.

Jordie ignores him. “Jamie, how many flapjacks you want?”

Jamie holds up four fingers and sits down. Wyatt, who is a pain in the ass with a gentle, sweet heart, pours Jamie a cup of coffee and passes it to him without being asked.

“Thanks,” says Jamie. His voice is so gravelly from sleep that it comes out too quiet. He clears it and tries again. “Thank you, Wyatt.”

“Sure thing, Jamie,” says Wyatt.

Jordie says, “Wyatt, tell Jamie what you just told me.”

Wyatt stuffs half a pancake in his mouth and then responds. “New family just moved in downstairs, from California! Like America! They’re from Asia.”

“What?” says Jamie.

Wyatt chews and swallows. He stuffs another piece of pancake in his mouth before responding again. “I mean, they moved from California, ‘cause they’re on the lam. Not supposed to get married, with the laws down there, you know, white man and an Asian woman and they had a whole bunch of kids and they got found out and moved straight over that border, blew right through Vancouver and landed here. Almost all their kids are fully grown, but you know how it is in California.”

Jamie does not, in any way, know what it’s like in California. He has never been to California, will never go to California, has no desire to travel to California. Maybe the sun in the winter would be nice but he’ll take his overcast and snowy days like today first. “Sure,” he says.

“Yeah, so all four of them—no, six, but the oldest son all got drafted and he’s over in Europe, still, and the youngest son is still in America, so there are only four of them downstairs, but maybe the other two sons come home soon—what was I saying? Oh, right, so four of ‘em live downstairs now.” Wyatt swallows. “And the middle son plays hockey.”

Jamie sips his coffee. It’s still hot, which means he must not be up too much later than Wyatt coming over. Jordie usually starts coffee before Wyatt comes over, otherwise the kid will drink it all himself.

“That so,” he says after he swallows.

“Jamie,” says Wyatt. He almost sings it. He puts down his fork and clasps his hands. “Jamie, come on. One game. Just one. Please?”

“Don’t use those eyes on me,” says Jamie, frowning at him.

Wyatt’s eyes, if possible, grow even bigger and more pleading.

Jamie frowns deeper.

Wyatt says, with his eyes the size of saucer plates, “come on, Jamie, you’re not gonna let an American play a game of hockey with me before you, are you?”

“I might,” says Jamie gruffly. “Knock it off, kid.”

Wyatt can be a brat but he’s a good kid too and knows how far to push and won’t go step beyond. He drops the act and goes back to his pancakes. “Also heard the Finns are moving on,” he says casually, like that’s not actually news for both Jordie and Jamie, given that Jordie turns around and says, “Johnny, what?” loudly enough that Wyatt looks startled.

Jamie sets his coffee mug. “Where to?” he demands.

Wyatt looks confused at how badly they’re taking it. “Dunno. Home, I guess. I saw Miro in the hallway this morning as he was taking out the trash. He told me him and Roope are playing their last game today. I mean, the factory’s restructuring, yeah, and Finland’s taking all their native sons back, right? They got no reason to stay in Canada so far from home. War’s over. They’re not refugees anymore.”

He sighs. “I wish I could stay the hell away from my home.”

“No, you don’t,” says Jordie. “Ah, shit, I guess we gotta find two more players. Forward and a defensemen. Damn, I love the wheels on those kids too.”

“Maybe you can convince Mr. Johns to play defense again,” says Wyatt, perking up. “He was really good that one time.”

“Johnsy won’t do shit on a Sunday,” says Jordie. “Bartending wears him out. Ah, I’ll let Pavs figure it out. His farm, his rink, his problem.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as Wyatt wolfs down his pancakes and Jordie frowns into a cup of coffee.

Jamie slices his pancakes methodically. Even rectangles, just like when he was a kid. Cut ‘em just right and the syrup and butter drips down from the top to bottom. He’s always had a sweet tooth, always taken more syrup than he should. Wasn’t a problem once he was in the infantry. He didn’t have a lot of problems in the infantry. Well, maybe a few problems—maybe—

Cigarette smoke in the night.

Jamie should—

Wyatt drops his fork on his platter with a loud clatter. Jamie flinches. Jordie growls at Wyatt. “Sorry, sorry,” Wyatt says. “I just really like your pancakes. I don’t get anything like this at home. It’s special to me, you know?”

Netherlands could make a good pastry, but nothing that country had could hold a candle to pancakes on a Sunday morning with Jordie and Wyatt. Not one thing in the world.

Jamie watches the syrup soak through four pancakes and pool at the bottom of the plate. He smiles.

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

The Caroline thing bugs me. I’ve watched seasons one and two multiple times and genuinely not a single thing in season one hints at all of Caroline being a villain except for her parroting what Chucky told her about killing her family. She just acts like a child that was either canonically autistic or heavily hinted at being autistic then suddenly the show just dropped that. Just like the show dropped how genuinely cruel Lexy was towards fucking everybody.

The finale of season two is the shittiest episode for me. It feels so random almost like a bonus episode with no real relation to anything else. Caroline suddenly out of fucking nowhere saying Tiffany is her bio mom and Chucky is her bio dad is so fucking stupid and out of nowhere. The Belle doll meant nothing and I still don’t get why they kept lying and pretending the Belle doll was anything else other than Mancini thinking he’s clever by once again claiming something is important only for it to never amount to shit.

Unless the intent is the entire time Chucky, the only Chucky left was in drag. Which I hate because again this whole ass finale was rushed.

Caroline being super into violence and murder and being a cold killer is out of nowhere and the kid playing her is nowhere near good enough at acting for me to take her remotely seriously. If you’re going to random plot twist this small child is a murderer then cast a kid with better range and acting skills.

This show has the Gotham issue of introducing more characters than it can handle all at once and not knowing how to appropriately handle everybody at once without losing the plot along the way. Except with Gotham I can understand; there are a billion Batman villains and you wanna show them all off.

Chucky though has no excuse. These are just characters Mancini randomly pulls out of his ass and proceeds to do fuck all with until an idea hits him and the show changes course two seconds later and he pretends this was the idea this whole time.

Also fuck I hate Nica and I hate Tiffany too honestly. Which sucks because in the movies I loved Tiffany and in the movies I loved Nica. With the first season I was intrigued by them both then that left turned and got fucked so incredibly fast by random making Tiffany fall in love with Nica.

Bu the way I am fine with female characters being horrendous but don’t fucking pat yourself on the back for having Tiffany break up with her “abuser” feminist bull shit then a second later have her cut the arms and legs off a woman she abducted and sexually assaults. Like her dumping Chucky wasn’t a fucking feminism moment or a breaking free of her abuser. You can’t do that while having her somehow be a worse person than her abuser.

I also kind of just hate a lot of the franchise retcons and honestly it the show had ended with season two minus the Christmas episode then I wouldn’t complain oddly enough. I would accept Chucky as a flawed but decent horror tv series, but now we have season three and a movie starting soon and Mancini desperate for a Chucky v M3gan crossover and a Chucky in space movie and claiming he needs more seasons and a billion more movies to properly tell his story and oh my fucking God I hate Don Mancini almost as much as I hate Paul “who wants to see men kiss?” Simms.

[believingispowerfulmagic]

A Fairytale for Christmas

Summary:  When Robin Locksley plans a masquerade for businesswoman and heiress Regina Mills, he just hopes to expand his client list. He gets much more when he takes his cousin’s place as a guest at the party and makes a connection with one of the guests. The next day, he learns that person was in fact the hostess, Regina Mills, and that her mother has announced that Regina will marry whoever that man was. His cousin Keith figures out it was Robin and teams up with Cora Mills to marry Regina, pulling in his cousin to their deception. But as Robin gets closer to Regina, will he tell her the truth or watch the love of his life walk down the aisle to his cousin?

Chapter 1: FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Chapter 10

FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Excerpt:

Regina pulled up to the Nott household, putting her car into park and studying it for a moment. She knew that Richard Nott was a successful business owner and it was clear that he had been able to afford the finer things in life. While his house wasn't as grand as Mist Haven, it was still a mansion. It had a light gray stone façade with white accents around the house. Several windows lined each floor and she spotted two chimneys placed on opposite sides of the house from each other. The lawn looked immaculate and she figured he paid a landscaper to maintain it. Regina wondered what the backyard looked like, figuring they had a pool – she imagined that was something young Keith and maybe young Robin would've wanted.

She got out of the car and took a deep breath before approaching the front door. Regina rang the doorbell and took a step back, waiting to see if anyone opened the door. There were at least two cars in the driveway but knew that didn't necessarily mean anything. Robin likely only owned one car but she knew that he also drove their company's van. Keith definitely owned more than one car, she believed. And she wouldn't be surprised if his father did the same.

Which all meant that it could be that no one home and the door would never open.

But she also knew it was a big house, so she pressed the bell again and decided to wait for a few more minutes before leaving.

After what felt like an eternity, Regina decided that no one was home and she would need to come back later. She started to turn away from the door when it opened. Taking a deep breath, she looked back and found Keith standing there in just a towel. His eyes lit up and he smirked. "Regina! What a surprise!"

"I apologize for dropping in unannounced," she said, feeling awkward. She knew seeing her fiancé in nothing but a towel should create some desire in her but she didn't feel much toward him. And so she kept her focus on his face. "But I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see your house."

"Of course," he replied, stepping aside. "Come on in."

She passed him, feeling the damp heat radiating off his body. As he closed the door, she turned to him and motioned to his state of undress. "I can wait for you to put on some clothes," she said.

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Do you want to help me dress?"

"I think I'd rather wait for the wedding night," she said, realizing she had no desire to see what lay under that towel. But she certainly would love to see what lay under Robin's sweaters and jeans.

That was something she would need to unpack later.

Luckily, Keith nodded as he winked at her. "I understand. I'll be right down," he said.

"I'll be right here," she replied, watching as he walked up the stairs. It was only a few moments later did she realize that he had assumed she was a virgin. She didn't really care to correct him. As long as he didn't try to make another pass at her, she didn't care what he believed about her.

Regina heard the jingle of a bell and turned toward the hall to her right. A gray cat walked down it, the sound coming from the bell on his collar. Her heart sped up as she recalled the cat toy in the stocking and she wondered if maybe it had pointed to Keith after all. Crouching, she held out her hand and waited to see if the cat would approach her.

The cat came closer to her and sniffed her hand. It then bumped its head against her hand and she scratched behind its ear. "Good kitty," she cooed.

"Ugh," Keith said, coming back down the stairs in a nice shirt and pair of pants. "Robin's stupid cat got out again."

"This is Robin's cat?" she asked, surprised that he did own a cat but pleased that the cat toy again pointed toward him being Shakespeare.

Keith nodded, looking disgusted. "He's supposed to keep this mangy thing in his apartment but Tuck keeps getting out. Dad doesn't seem to mind but if it were up to me, I would've chucked him out years ago."

He started to reach for the cat but Regina scooped him up first, cradling the cat. "Why would you throw out such a sweet animal?" she asked.

"Tuck isn't sweet," Keith said, glaring at the cat. "He's a monster. He always scratches me."

"Animals are very intuitive. He senses that you don't like him so he doesn't like you in return. I'm sure if you were nicer, he wouldn't scratch you," she said, feeling Tuck purr as she gently rocked him like a baby.

Keith just made a strange sound before saying: "We should probably put him back in Robin's apartment."

"Probably," she replied, finding herself eager to see Robin's living space. "Why don't you take me there? I can carry Tuck so he doesn't scratch you."

"Fine by me," he said. "It's this way."