#12 days of tropemas

[hexsdexs]

My all time favorite trope is the "Character A has been sleep deprived forever, the first nightmare-free sleep they get is next to character B for the first time". Bonus if they fight and character A sleeps alone for a night and the nightmares return.

[digthewriter]

MAGIC REVEAL | for 12-days-of-tropemas for @merlin-fic-server

[a-written-dream]

Chapter 4: Trope 4 Mutual Pining

Chapters: 4/12

ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.5, ch.6, ch.7, ch.8, ch.9, ch.10, ch.11, ch.12

Words: 2,169

Fandom: Merlin (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin)

Additional Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, 12 Days of Tropemas, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Christmas market, Idiots in Love, Minor Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), First Kiss, Love Confessions

Summary:

A collection of Christmas ficlets and drabbles, for MFBC server's 12 Days of Tropemas prompts! Trope 1: Coffee Shop AU Trope 2: Hurt/Comfort Trope 3: Office AU Trope 4: Mutual Pining

Chapter Summary:

In which Arthur makes assumptions, Merlin has two minor heart attacks, and Gwen and Morgana are happily engaged and unhappily watching the other two pine over each other. There's one Christmas market and two hotel beds (which quickly becomes rather unnecessary).

Arthur checks his watch and frowns. It’s been over ten minutes since Gwen and Merlin left to get drinks, and it really shouldn’t take this long. Sure, the Christmas market is large, but there’s a drink stall every fourth stall, so it’s not like it should be difficult to find one.

“Do you think this is Gwen’s colour?” Morgana asks, holding up a lilac scarf.

“Everything’s Gwen’s colour,” Arthur tells her.

Morgana rolls her eyes. “I know that. But do you think she’d like it?”

“I think she’s your fiancée and you know her better than I do. And that she’ll love anything you get her,” Arthur says. “And not just because she loves you, but because you know better than anyone what she likes.”

Morgana nods satisfied, and turns to the stall keeper with a smile.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find them,” Arthur says as Morgana pulls her card out of her wallet.

Morgana rolls her eyes at him. “Stop being such a worry-wart, Arthur. They haven’t been swallowed by the crowd.”

Arthur gives her an unimpressed look. “I was going to see if they needed any help,” he says.

Morgana waves him off. “Fine, go ahead then. Gives me time to buy you a gift,” she says with a grin.

“Don’t get me something tacky,” Arthur says.

Morgana gives him a mock-appalled look. “I would never.”

The row of gaudy Christmas decorations on the shelf in Arthur’s flat and the much too colourful baubles hanging in his tree say otherwise.

Arthur weaves his way through the large crowd of people, which despite Morgana’s previous statement probably could swallow someone whole. It’s just as busy every single year, and still every year in December they insist on taking the five hour long train ride up to Edinburgh for a weekend of walking around the Christmas market and the busy streets. It’s become a tradition, at this point, for the four of them, and Arthur loves it, despite the crowds and the tacky gifts.

He spots Gwen and Merlin standing by a drinks stall up ahead, their backs towards him, and makes his way towards them, which is a slow process that involves stopping every few steps because someone decides to stop in the middle of the crowd. He’s only a few metres away when a large group of people cut in in front of him and he has to stop again.

“I just..” he hears Merlin say. “Ugh, why is he so perfect?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow.

“Because you’re in love with him?” Gwen asks, and Arthur stops mid-step. Someone complains behind him. Merlin’s in love with someone?

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Guinevere.”

“I’m just saying it as it is,” Gwen says and shrugs. “You should tell him, you know.”

Merlin sighs. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Just because he’s-“

Arthur decides that’s enough eavesdropping – accidental or otherwise – and slinks past a couple that stands in front of him.

“Hey,” he says, announcing his presence. He smiles at them despite the ache in his chest.

“Arthur!” Merlin says, voice high and squeaky. “Hi!”

“You sure are taking your sweet time,” Arthur says. “I just wanted to check if you needed any help carrying anything.”

“Sorry. We didn’t mean to take so long, but we figured we’d grab some churros. The queue was longer than we thought,” Gwen says, holding out a newspaper cone with churros.

Arthur grabs one. “It’s alright. You just forced me to spend time in solitude with my sister. Nothing a little bit of therapy can’t fix,” he says, taking a bite.

Gwen rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “I’m sure you’ll live.”

“Thanks,” Merlin tells the person manning the stall, grabbing two of the hot chocolates from the counter and handing them to Arthur, before he picks up the other two and gives one to Gwen. “Alright, all good to go,” he says. His smile is a little strained.

Somehow finding out that Merlin’s in love with someone else isn’t quite as bad as finding out that he doesn’t want Arthur to know.

Despite his earlier comment, Arthur spends the walk back to the hotel after dinner beside Morgana while Merlin and Gwen walk a few steps ahead of them. He can’t bring himself to walk next to Merlin and pretend everything’s alright quite yet.

It’s not that Arthur didn’t know this might happen, one day. Merlin’s dated others before, sometimes for long periods. But he’s never.. said he loved any of them, and the admission, even though Arthur wasn’t meant to hear it, hurts more than Arthur thinks it should. He’s never thought he had a chance with Merlin like that, anyway; back when Arthur’s feelings were only starting to make themselves known, Gwaine asked if Merlin and he were dating. Merlin laughed awkwardly, and, well, that kind of told Arthur everything he needed to know. But he supposes hope doesn’t die quite so easily, and he feels the brunt of it now.

“You look like a love-sick puppy. That someone kicked,” Morgana states, slowing her pace just the slightest. “Please just tell him already.”

Arthur sighs, watching as the distance between them and Merlin and Gwen grows. “I can’t.”

“You don’t want to ruin your friendship, he doesn’t like you back, blah blah, yes I know. We’ve been over this,” Morgana says.

Arthur shakes his head. “No, not that,” he mutters. “He’s in love with someone else.”

Morgana stops and stares at him for a solid moment, and then frowns. “He told you that?”

“I wasn’t meant to hear,” Arthur says. “But yeah, that’s what he said.”

“‘That’s what he said’, as in he explicitly said he’s in love with someone who isn’t Arthur Pendragon, royal pain in the ass, or ‘that’s what he said’ as in ‘I heard half of the conversation and jumped to my own stupid conclusions’?” Morgana asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

Arthur really doesn’t like how well she knows him.

“I only heard a bit-“

“Then you can’t know he was talking about someone else,” Morgana states, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him an unimpressed glare.

“Well, there’s nothing saying that he wasn’t, either,” Arthur retorts. “You know he doesn’t-“

“You’re an idiot,” Morgana says. “I’m going to walk away to talk to my future wife now. I miss having conversations with a reasonable adult.”

Arthur glares after her as she leaves him behind without another word and catches up to the others, slipping her hand into Gwen’s. Gwen turns to smile at her, warm and as smitten as she was when they first started dating all those years ago. They’re ridiculously sweet, and if Arthur’s going to be honest, he’d be overjoyed if he found a romance even half as perfect as theirs.

His eyes involuntarily move over to Merlin, who’s smiling softly at the couple, and his heart aches again.

In reality, he knows he already has found it, but love is only so sweet when it isn’t mutual. Merlin turns his head to glance over his shoulder at Arthur, smiling carefully and motioning for him to join them.

Arthur sighs and weaves past the slower walkers, and lets Merlin hook his arm in his when he slides up next to them.

He smiles when Merlin squeezes his arm, and thinks that this is good too, even if it’s not all he wants.

“See you guys tomorrow,” Morgana says when Arthur and Merlin stop outside their shared hotel room.

“Bright and early,” Arthur mutters, sliding the keycard into the reader.

“Sleep well!” Gwen says as Arthur pushes the door open.

“Goodnight,” Merlin tells them, before they slip into the room. The door slides closed behind them and Arthur’s changes into sleepwear, brushes his teeth, and gets into bed while Merlin calls his mother.

He doesn’t mean to bring it up, he really doesn’t, but knowing Merlin’s in love with someone without knowing who is almost a little too unbearable, and when Merlin slips into bed half an hour later, changed and ready for bed, he clears his throat and asks.

“So, who’s your mystery man?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the pattern in the ceiling.

Merlin lets out what can only be described as a squeak. “You heard that?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Arthur says. He does feel a little bad about that, too. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Merlin is quiet for a while, and Arthur knows he’s chewing his lip anxiously.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “I just-“ He turns his head to look at Merlin, a slight frown pulling at his brow. “Why didn’t you? Tell me.” He tries to sound curious instead of hurt, but he’s been pining for bloody years and it tears at ones defences. He only has so much strength to pretend.

Merlin opens his mouth, and then closes it, clenching his jaw. There seems to be a moment of internal conflict before he sighs and pushes himself into a sitting position. He runs a hand over his face, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Arthur frowns, sitting up slowly.

“God this really wasn’t how I imagined telling you,” Merlin says, something like resignation in his voice.

If it’s going to make Merlin sound like that, then Arthur isn’t sure he wants to hear it. “Merlin-“

“It’s you,” Merlin says, turning and looking at him, eyes earnest and corners of his lips pulled down. “The mystery man. It’s you. I’ve been in love with you since.. I actually don’t even remember, anymore.” He sighs again, turning his gaze to his hands fiddling with the sheets in his lap. “It feels like forever.”

Arthur’s brain has short circuited and all he seems to be able to do is gape at Merlin.

After a prolonged moment of silence, during which Merlin’s shoulders have hitched steadily upwards until they almost touch his ears, Merlin turns to look at Arthur, worried frown on his face.

“Arthur?”

“Me?” Arthur asks, and despite the uncertainty in his features, Merlin rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you prat, you. God knows why,” he grumbles, and that’s enough to snap Arthur out of his shock.

He laughs, bright and happy and a little bit in disbelief. “Fuck,” he says. “I really should’ve listened to Morgana.”

Merlin scowls at him. “There’s no need to laugh at me,” he mutters, just the slighest bit of hurt slipping into his voice.

Arthur throws his sheets to the side and stands up, walking the two steps it takes to reach Merlin’s bed, and gently places his hands on Merlin’s cheeks. He grins at him.

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the situation. At myself, really.”

Merlin furrows his brow in confusion. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now, Arthur.”

“I guess you mess with my head.”

Merlin’s eyes widen, mouth opening just the slightest. “You mean..”

Arthur presses a kiss to Merlin’s lips. It’s only half-decent because Arthur can’t stop smiling, but he figures it doesn’t matter too much. He’s planning on kissing Merlin a thousand times more.

“Yes,” he says when he pulls away. “I’m in love with you too. And Morgana has told me so many times I’ve lost count that I should tell you, but I’ve been such a coward and now she’s going to hold this over my head for the rest of my life.”

Merlin grins, wrapping his fingers loosely around Arthur’s wrists. “So is Gwen. She’s been telling me the same thing for years.” He groans. “They’re going to have a field day with this, aren’t they?”

Arthur motions for Merlin to scoot over and sits down next to him, pulling him down under the sheets.

“What if we just never tell them?” he suggests, slipping an arm around Merlin’s waist as Merlin curls his hand into the front of Arthur’s t-shirt.

Merlin grins at him, bright and wonderful, and Arthur is so in love he thinks he might lose himself in it.

“They’ll never find out.”

It takes Gwen and Morgana a whole two seconds to figure it out the next morning. Arthur doesn’t mind so much, not if it means he can slip his hand into Merlin’s and press a kiss to his cheek whenever he wants to. Even Morgana’s undoubtedly endless smug smiles and ‘I told you so’s can’t ruin Arthur’s good mood, because he has his perfect romance and love really is sweeter when it’s mutual.

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Tropemas Day 02: What I want for Christmas

“Oops,” Rhys said in a daze as he stared up at the cloudy sky. He’d slipped off the ladder and landed in the snow on his back.

“Oops?” a deep voice echoed. Jack glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Falling for you, obviously,” he laughed. When Jack didn’t, Rhys rolled his eyes.  “Alright, I was decorating your house.”

“What?” Jack blinked and looked around. Rhys watched the fury start to build. “You-”

-----

Rhys notices Jack isn't decorating this year and ends up helping more than he realized.

You can read this on my AO3!!!  And if you wanna leave me a ko-fi, feel free!

Rhys smirked as he set up the lights just after Thanksgiving. His neighbor, Jack, hadn’t even started yet. Last year, they’d been up the day before Thanksgiving. Last year, they had spent every waking moment trying to out decorate each other. They had gotten into several arguments with each other over it.

This year, though…  It had been quiet next door. Quiet and desolate. He’d hardly seen Jack through the month and now it was only Rhys decorating. Well, that was that, then.

Rhys worked his way through and around his house, making it gorgeous. He glanced at Jack’s property throughout the day, though. It really was strange for Jack not to be working outside.

Still, four days later, Rhys found that Jack’s home seemed just as empty as ever. He hummed. It didn’t look the same deserted as it was. He bit his lip and decided to try something. He moved one of his decorations across the border and into his yard. He waited a day. When nothing happened, he decided to take some initiative.

-----

Angel sighed and then coughed. She lay on the couch like she had been when her siren transformation had started. Her dad had shut the house down and doted on her night and day and it was nice, but… 

He hadn’t decorated this year for Christmas and she was missing it. She stared at the window with the blinds drawn closed. She sighed again and then froze. Someone was outside. That couldn’t be right, her dad was in his office doing a few hours of work.

Quietly, she sat up and went to it. Her body ached, tired and worn, but she continued to peak through the wooden slabs. She covered her mouth as she gasped. Their neighbor, the one dad always argued with, was decorating their yard! She smiled. She’d always loved Rhys and she loved him even more now. She went back to the couch and smiled to herself.

“You seem happier,” her dad said at dinner.

She shrugged. “I feel a little more rested.”

He smiled. “Good. Would you like to watch a movie tonight?”

“Okay!”

Angel cuddled into her father as they picked a movie. She liked these times through the change when her father slowed down and they could just be together. She lay on him, her eyes slipping closed.

She woke up on the couch to a yell and a crash. She jolted upright and then almost fell back onto the couch, .

Her dad came running in. “What the hell? Angel are you alright?”

“It wasn’t me! It was from outside! I hope that wasn’t Rhys!”

“Why would it be Rhys?” He went out the front door.

-----

“Oops,” Rhys said in a daze as he stared up at the cloudy sky. He’d slipped off the ladder and landed in the snow on his back.

“Oops?” a deep voice echoed. Jack glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Falling for you, obviously,” he laughed. When Jack didn’t, Rhys rolled his eyes.  “Alright, I was decorating your house.”

“What?” Jack blinked and looked around. Rhys watched the fury start to build. “You-”

Rhys sat up and looked around. He supposed that maybe he’d gone a little overboard, but he’d wanted it to match his house.

The window was opened. “Rhys! Are you okay? It looks so good!” Angel called.

He waved to her. “I’m okay, thanks for asking!”

Jack eyed his daughter and then sighed. “Fine, but only because Angel likes it.”

Angel gasped. “He can do the inside too!”

“No, he can’t, sweetheart.”

“Yes! He! Can! You want some cocoa Rhys? That was a bad fall.”

There was silence between them. Rhys was just about to excuse himself when Jack sighed. He reached down and helped Rhys to his feet.

He firmly walked Rhys into the house and then locked the door behind them. Rhys felt a twinge of panic begin, but then his body stiffened and he understood.

“Oh.” He walked ahead of Jack and into the living room where the young siren sat on the couch. She had small, white, feathered wings growing from her back.

She smiled and waved at him. She looked absolutely strung out.

Rhys smiled and let his own wings unfurl, turning visible while he did so. They were a vibrant blue with a bat-like look to them. A very subtle surge of electricity spread through them. He went over to her and knelt down.

“Yours are going to be beautiful. Wanna look and touch mine?”

She nodded.

Rhys sat on the couch and turned so she could have unrestricted access to them. His eyes met Jack’s. They were hard to read, but he could tell he’d surprised Jack at least.

“How long did yours take?” Angel asked.

“A year, but I have to admit it’s cause I kept trying to get rid of them. It wasn’t safe for my parents to know, but they kept growing back so I ran away to my uncle’s house. He kept me safe while I fully transformed. I don’t recommend doing what I did. Once I was safe, they only took a little over a month.”

“Then I’ll have them by Christmas!”

Rhys smiled. “You could be the Christmas angel.”

She wrinkled her nose.

That made him laugh.

Jack left and came back minutes later with hot cocoa.

“Thank you.”

“Thanks dad!”

“So, can you sense each other?”

Rhys answered. “Only when we have fully grown wings, that’s why Angel knew about me, but I didn’t know about her until I was in her house where the concentrated energy was.”

Jack nodded.

“No one else around here is one, Jack. Angel’s safe.”

“Good.”

There was a pause before Rhys looked at Angel. “So, you want this place decorated?”

“Yeah! We haven’t had time since I started the change.”

“Well, if your dad’s okay with it, I’ll get this place so decorated, everywhere you look will be Christmas.”

-----

Jack hadn’t been sure of Rhys, especially not after last year when they’d gotten into a heated competition over their yards. Now, with Angel, he was beginning to see a good side in Rhys. It was a gentle, sweet one that had Angel lighting up like the front of their house.

However, he glared at Rhys, holding a real Christmas tree in their doorway. “We have one already.”

Rhys frowned. “I don’t remember seeing a tree?”

“It’s still in the box.”

“Why would-” Rhys gasped, looking utterly disgusted. “You use a fake tree? Do you even have a Christmas spirit?” He began to push into Jack’s house. “What was last year, then? Were you actually decorating for Christmas or just being competitive? Cause if you were just competitive, I totally won last year.”

“Like hell you did! A fake tree is just as good-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Rhys snapped. He walked into the living room, dragging the tree behind him. “Angel, your father is insane! He’s trying to tell me a fake tree is just as good as a real one!”

Angel giggled where she lay on the couch.

“It is!” Jack growled.

Rhys stopped and shoved the tree at Jack. “Do you smell that, Jack? That’s the smell of Christmas! You don’t get that with a fake tree!”

Jack stumbled away, the sting of pine needles in his nose. “Ow! What is wrong with you?”

Rhys ignored that as he stopped and sighed, dropping the tree to the floor. “I bet this means you don’t have a tree stand. I’ll have to go home and get one.” He stepped over the tree. He was almost tall enough, but he had to jump the rest of the way and ended up tumbling into Jack.

He caught Rhys easily, though they stumbled into the wall. He found to his great surprise that he liked the feel of Rhys against him. He did not let go of Rhys, instead waiting for him to move away.

“Ya fallin’ for me, cupcake?”

“Tch, fall for a guy who thinks a fake tree is the best tree?” And yet, Rhys did not pull away. They stared at each other for a long moment before finally, he pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mhmm,” Jack hummed. It took Jack a moment to notice Angel. He felt it before he saw that wide grin across her face. He frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He rolled his eyes and stared at the tree. “I guess I should get the decorations out.”

He helped Rhys set the tree up and left him and Angel to decorate it. He made them lunch, smiling as he heard Angel telling Rhys where to put each ornament. This carried through the day when Rhys decorated the house. By the time dinner was made, they had finished. Rhys sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table with Jack.

Jack appraised the house. “Alright, it doesn’t look bad.”

“Of course it doesn’t, Angel was the brains behind it. This is delicious!”

“Thanks.”

He helped Jack clean up, his voice quiet when they were away from Angel. “I had an idea while I was decorating.”

“That’s dangerous.”

He laughed when Rhys hit him. “I was thinking you could dress up for Santa and visit Angel.”

Jack leaned against the counter. “And what are you going to be?”

Rhys frowned. “I didn’t think I’d be anything?”

“Nu uh, sugar, if I have to look stupid, so do you.”

Rhys scoffed. “It’s not stupid.”

-----

It was a week before Jack would dress up as Santa and Rhys found himself missing the two. He hadn’t realized how much they had brought him so much warmth this year that his home felt completely empty. He sighed and turned on a Christmas movie.

When the day came, he dressed in his elf costume and met Jack at the back door of his house. He opened it wearing the full Santa garb.

“This is-” he lowered his voice. “This is fucking stupid, Rhys.”

Rhys smiled, taking in the stuffed belly and the fake beard. He hummed. “I dunno, I’m kinda diggin’ it.”

Jack frowned, but his beard moved as he smiled. “You would think Santa’s hot.” He opened the door for Rhys to go in. “Here we go.” He led the way, his voice loud and jolly. “HO HO HO! I HEAR THERE’S A GIRL WHO’S BEEN VERY GOOD THIS YEAR!”

Angel gasped and covered her mouth as she giggled. “Santa!” She smiled when she saw Rhys. “Rhys!”

“I’m working for Santa right now, Angel,” Rhys winked.

“Yeah, and Santa wants to know what you want for Christmas.” Jack knelt down next to where Angel had sat up, her wings more than halfway grown now. “Tell, me, Angel, what’s in your heart of hearts? What would you like for Christmas?”

She smiled wide and leaned in. “What I really want for Christmas is for my dad to marry Rhys!”

There was silence in the room as Angel looked proud of herself.

Rhys covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Uh, s’cuse me!” He tried not to run, but the door slammed too hard for his liking. He slunk around the corner of Jack’s house, leaned against it and laughed. He rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

The door opened and Jack stood next to him. His beard was pulled down. “I thought you’d gone home.”

Rhys shook his head. “Just- just-” he was laughing too hard. “I didn’t… Expect that!”

Jack smiled and his shoulders started to shake in laughter. “Neither did I!”

Their laughter grew infectious, each spinning the other into harder laughter. When, after several minutes, they’d calmed down, Rhys wiped the tears from his eyes.

“We must be better together than I thought if Angel wants us to be a couple. I know I prefer it to fighting.”

Jack smirked. “I gotta admit I do too. You’re really good with her, I haven’t seen her smile like that since this all started.”

“Well, I adore her,” Rhys said easily.

Jack was silent for a moment. “Could you adore me too?”

Rhys’ heart pattered wildly in his chest as his brows widened in shock. “You wanna get married?”

He could definitely see the pink get darker on Jack’s face. “I wasn’t exactly thinking married, but…”

Not even if he tried could he hide the smile on his face. “I adore both of you. And honestly, it’s gotten lonely without you guys.”

Jack’s eyes twinkled and he stepped into Rhys’ space. “You’re lonely without me, sugar?”

Shrugging, Rhys tugged on the beard. “What about you?”

“I loved holding you. And I want to kiss you.”

“Well, no kisses until there’s a proposal, Mister.”

“Watch Angel, I’ll be back.”

Rhys blinked as Jack went into the house and then left in his vehicle. He had been joking. He hoped Jack hadn’t left for the reason he was thinking he had. He went into the house, his mind racing.

“I’m sorry!” Angel said. “I- Dad asked me and-”

Rhys put his hand up to stop her. “No, sweetie, don’t even worry about it. You did no harm, I promise. Let’s watch a movie.” He sat down on the couch with her, snuggling in when she lay against him.

“How are your wings today?”

“Sore. I’m tired of them being so sore.”

“Have you stretched them today?”

“Not yet…”

Rhys sat up. “Okay, we’ll stretch them while we watch the movie.” He gently took a wing and slowly extended it. She winced, but didn’t try to stop him. When he had it extended all the way, he looked at her. “How does that feel?”

“Better, they still hurt, but it’s better.”

“Good.” He moved it around as best he could without causing her too much discomfort. He switched to the next one and repeated the process. When he was done he had her move them around herself. “You need to do this everyday. Trust me, it makes all the difference in the world.”

“Okay… Could you help me with that?”

“Of course.”

Jack showed up an hour later with lunch and cupcakes. He paused the movie.

“Awe! It was almost done!” Angel huffed.

Jack set the box on the table in front of Rhys. “Open it.”

Rhys met his eyes. He was still dressed as an elf and Jack was still dressed as Santa, stuffed tummy and everything. His hands started to shake as he opened it. 

The cupcakes were all Christmas themed, snowmen, Santas, Christmas trees and presents. The center had a present decorated in fondant. Placed on it was a gorgeous, if not slightly gaudy ring.

Angel gasped. “What!?”

Rhys stared at it. Jack was serious. He was really proposing to Rhys. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Rhys. He looked at Jack. “Well?” His lips twitched upward as he waited.

Jack grinned. He picked the ring up and knelt in front of Rhys. “Will you marry me, cupcake?”

“You guys aren’t doing this just cause I asked, right!? This isn’t just pretend?”

“No, Angel, I’m very serious,” Jack said.

“I am too,” Rhys said. “Yeah, yeah I’ll marry you, Jack.” He smiled wide as Angel screamed with joy. Jack slid the ring on and tugged him off the couch and into a kiss.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Blame It on the Mistletoe

On the first day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A jealousy fic with mutual pining and friends to lovers too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Mistletoe" by Justin Bieber

Trope: Jealousy

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, semi-public sex, possessive/jealous themes

Words: 5.2k

Author's Note: Let's start with a big one and end with a big one - here's a toast to the start of another 12 Days of Tropemas! 🥂 You can find the Tropemas 2022 masterlist underneath the 'Series' section at the bottom of my pinned Masterlist!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

There were three facts about the night that contributed to bringing you to where you were currently. And where you were just happened to be lip-locked with Danny Wagner in the middle of a corporate party.

Fact #1: You came here as Josh’s plus one.

Fact #2: You were tired of waiting for Josh to give you an indication (literally anything would have sufficed) that he saw you as more than a friend.

Fact #3: Despite it being a major health risk around the talent that had already proven being sick wasn’t going to help anybody, there were plenty of mistletoe sprigs planted in the most inconvenient of places.

Like here, at the end of the bar where you picked up your poison of choice. You were already a couple of Amaretto sours deep, and Josh had gone off to schmooze with an older gentleman that you vaguely recognized as one of the senior sound tech guys, which left you a little lonely, a little bitter, and wanting another drink. So, in the spirit of the open bar, you got one.

And then, long story short, Danny had bumped into you, winked, made a crude joke before pointing up at the decoration in bad taste, and then kissed you.

And you kissed him back, because why the hell wouldn’t you?

It was over all too soon, and he pulled back chuckling, a drunken flush settled high on his cheeks. “Now don’t go falling in love with me,” he warned jokingly, already starting to drift away, back to where he had been listening to an old gramophone with Jake. “I’ve been told I have magic lips!”

Already in a better mood than before, you laughed and shook your head. “Sure you do,” you called back to him, taking a rather long sip from your newly poured drink.

It wasn’t a minute later that Josh wandered up to you, standing closer than he normally did. “Having fun?” he asked lightly, only maintaining eye contact for a second before he looked down to where he was swirling his liquor against the sides of his glass.

You dipped your head with a raise of your brows. “Always,” you said dryly. “Although the bar has been a considerable player in that evaluation.”

Josh mumbled something that you were a little slow to catch; you were settling into a nice buzz, and it was loosening the lock on the box that kept your feelings of insecurity and resentment that developed as a result of you somehow tricking yourself into thinking that Josh would ever see you as more than what you were now.

Just friends.

“You what?” you asked, bringing your ear closer. Josh took a deep breath through his nose, and then looked away.

“Nothing.”

You were glad that perhaps your allusion to not having a good time when he wouldn’t pay you any attention caused him to stick close for a while. You weren’t familiar with the people here, and having Josh to talk to and laugh with, once he loosened up a little bit (which, considering you hadn’t even yelled at him, you weren’t sure why he seemed so uptight in the first place) was a blessing.

But even fun events like these were still work functions, and Josh was pulled into another dull conversation with one of the few journalists that had been invited eventually, leaving your eyes to wander and attention to stray towards something – anything – that would be more fun than listening to Josh tell the same story you’d heard six times over the course of the night.

And, like a beacon of light, you just so happened to catch sight of Sam through the doorway where a live band was playing soft, jazzy Christmas tunes. 

Sam was always a fun time. 

You drifted away from Josh and followed the call of music. “You look a little lonely,” you teased once you got close enough, and Sam tore his eyes away from the band to smile at you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, moving over so that you could both watch from the center. “Yeah, Mom and Dad just left with Ronnie, but I just really like this song. I wanted to hear it before getting back to work.”

You scoffed at his loose terminology, but listened closely and finally picked out the melancholy melody of I’ll Be Home For Christmas. “It’s a good song,” you agreed. 

Watching the musicians play, you caught the eye of a trombone player, and she smirked from behind her instrument before nodding her head upwards. At first, you thought that it was a part of the showmanship, but then she did it again, even more pronounced, and you looked up.

Mistletoe.

You were already one down on the list, what was the harm in making it two?

“Hey, Sammy, look,” you said, drawing his attention to the same spot. “Give me a little sugar, Sugar.”

He chuckled and hesitated just a bit, brow furrowing, but just as the song ended and you were about to pull away and laugh the rejection off, softly gave you a platonic peck, drawing a small cheer from the band, who cried out that you were couple #4 of the night that had been caught under the lover’s décor.

Sam tilted his head when you looked back at him from laughing along with the band. “Where’s Josh?”

“Here! Sorry, got caught up in a little business. Y/N is just…on a streak tonight, aren’t you?” Josh chuckled tightly, catching you by the hand as he approached from behind. “I can’t let you out of my sight for even one minute, can I?”

You deadpanned. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you,” you said petulantly as Josh dragged you away, back towards the party again. “You said this would be a party, but it’s not. This is a black tie event, Josh,” you lamented, trying not to complain but unable to hold it back. “There’s a big difference.”

Josh didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I know that I didn’t give you a whole lot of details and that it was last minute, but Y/N—” He finally turned on his heel and came face to face with you, eyes softening at your stumble to stop before you collided. “I really do appreciate you coming here with me.”

Were you a little less focused on his features up close, you might have noticed the small amount of emphasis on the last two words that Josh slipped in. But you didn’t. His apology did make you smile a bit, though. “I know,” you sighed, flipping your hair out of your face. “What would you do without me?”

“Waste away in sorrow and boredom,” he assured you, patting you on the arm as you looped it through his. “And, uh, just so you know, you don’t have to kiss everyone you end up under the mistletoe with,” he said quietly, so as not to draw attention amongst the murmurs of conversation.

You shrugged against him. “I know. But it was fun. And I was the one who initiated that one,” you laughed. “It would have been in bad taste to reject him after I told him to.”

Josh didn’t laugh with you. Instead, he steered you around the room for a leisurely stroll - a tour of the paintings that hung for the event.

But, once again, your companionship wasn’t fated to last, and you’d only made half a loop around the perimeter, pointing out funny details in the art fastened to the wall all the while, when a woman locked her eyes on you both and started making a beeline towards you.

“Incoming,” you sighed, ready to let go of Josh’s arm. 

But he didn’t let it go; he tightened his hold, instead. “That’s just one of the studio execs. She’s probably just going to go over a couple of details for next week.”

Josh was wrong, though, and the studio exec grimaced at you apologetically before admitting that Josh had missed a piece of paperwork and needed to come cross his t’s and dot his i’s.

“It’s fine,” you said, waving her silent apology off. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw Jake and Lori mingling over there – I’ll just go join them.” Without much of a second thought about it, the exec stepped away and you again attempted to pull away from Josh, but he caught your arm. 

“Wait.”

You glanced back at him, tilting your head in concern when you saw his jumpy, restless mannerisms. “Are you okay?”

He licked his lips and then let them pop open in a way that had you absolutely entranced. “Can you just…stay here? This won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just gonna go say hi to Jake and Mrs. Wagner, Josh. I’m not rushing out to my pumpkin now that it’s midnight or anything,” you teased.

“Please, Y/N?” Two minutes, and then I’ll be all yours, I promise. Just stay here for me,” he implored, looking serious as all was.

He wasn’t able to wait for an answer, not with the exec looking back and calling his name when she realized he wasn’t following. His gaze lingered, but he left with her, and you were stuck wondering what his sudden weird behavior was all about.

In the end, you did wait for two minutes. Five, actually, and you knew because you timed it. But it was weird being a loner lingering around some precious art with no one to laugh at it with, so eventually you disregarded Josh’s strange demeanor and sidled up next to Jake and Lori, who were just finishing up laughing about one thing or another.

“Hey guys, mind if I join your ranks?” you asked softly, knowing that the answer would be yes.

Lori’s eyes lit up, and she donned a slightly mischievous smile on her normally sweet-as-pie face that was more fitting of her son than it was on her. “Only,” she said dramatically, a sure sign that Big Dan was out there somewhere completely sober so that his drunk wife would have a safe ride home, “if you give Jakey a little kiss.”

The coincidence of it all. Out of everyone in the band, you’d gotten propositioned (indirectly) by each member except the one you wanted to. “Oh, is that right?” you teased, crooking a brow up at Jake, who rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “Is this a new band initiation thing?”

“No. Lori has been trying to get me to kiss every single person in this room because of the damn mistletoe,” he teased, smiling softly at Lori’s resounding giggle. It was nice to see her having fun.

You looked up, and sure enough, there was a small sprig hanging from a strand on the chandelier. “Well, I’ve managed to get caught under one with both of your little brothers,” you sighed, playing into Lori’s game. “Want to cross off another box on my BINGO sheet?”

“Do it, do it, do it,” Lori chanted gleefully, and Jake sighed overdramatically.

He held out his hand to you, amusement shining in his eyes. He reminded you so much of Josh in these moments, and it sent a rush of affection through you. “Well, if it has to be someone, I suppose you’re probably my best option.”

“Oh gee,” you snarked facetiously, “you really know how to flatter a girl.”

But you went anyway, meeting him in a kiss that was half-smile as Lori did a small happy dance, clapping softly and grinning so wide her eyes scrunched up and disappeared. “Christmas joy!” she cheered, and you broke away giggling.

It really was more reminiscent of the joy you felt when you were around the boys, and you were a little bummed that Josh hadn’t really been around most of the evening, but you had enough good company otherwise that you were beginning not to care.

But not caring was apprently not in the cards for you, since every time you began to settle into a group, Josh would come around and alienate you again. And that's exactly what happened when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“I thought I asked you to wait over there,” Josh whispered into your ear so that the others couldn’t hear him. His fingers were digging slightly into your skin, and it made your stomach flip-flop.

You shrugged. “Got bored.”

He didn’t answer you; instead, he sidled up and wrapped an arm around your waist, something he always did but, in a way that felt different this time. Almost…possessive if you didn’t know any better. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had quite the night, so I’m gonna get the car,” he said with a smile towards his brother and Lori. “Wasn’t expecting so much work this evening. You good to round the other two up?” That was directed purely at Jake.

He’d been the DD for the evening, and since they all had their stuff at Josh’s house, had decided to have an old-fashioned sleepover, putting more finishing touches on the album they were planning on going to the studio for the next week.

He got the confirmation he was looking for and you barely had time to say goodbye before Josh physically pulled you away from them, now grasping your hand as if you’d try to run. “You know, between the freezing cold and the warm party,” you said in confusion, trying to tug your coat on, “I’d much rather be in there. Do you need me to get the car with you?”

It came off slightly pissy, you were aware. But Josh's behavior was confusing and you were sobering up so nothing was as lighthearted anymore. You were out in the parking lot already, though, where you noticed that it had started snowing at some point during the party, and there was a light dusting covering all the cars now. Josh made it to his car without saying anything, but as soon as you hit him lightly to get him to stop ignoring you, he turned around as the car beeped unlocked. 

Josh had never been angry with you. You’d gotten in teasing little spats and had run annoyed with each other, but never bona fide angry. And that’s what Josh looked at the moment.

“I had to get out of there,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Sorry, let me rephrase: I had to get you out of there.”

His bitterness wasn’t lost on you, and standing out in the cold with Josh angry at you wasn't how you’d envisioned the night ending. “Why? What was I doing? And why are you angry all of the sudden?”

He looked at you, disbelief written out comically plain on his face. “All of the sudden?” he said patronizingly, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, I’ve been…god, you don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?” His vagueness was wearing on you, and you began to shiver. 

“Ever since you decided you wanted to kiss all my fucking brothers right in front of me when I invited you,” he emphasized, growing agitated which, at the proximity you were standing together, made your heart rate pick up a little. “You don’t think that I might be a little bit angry?”

You blinked at him owlishly, eyes wide as you finally realized what he was saying. “You’re…jealous?”

He closed his eyes and ruffled a hand through his hair, muttering, “Hopeless,” before grabbing your waist abruptly and pressing you to his snowy car door. “So incredibly jealous. But I don’t want to have to be jealous anymore, Y/N, and I-- just...stop me if you don't want this, okay?”

It was all he got out before he slammed his lips to yours. He didn’t give you time to think, only react as he pushed forward on all accounts and began to overwhelm your senses.

It was out of character for Josh, this reckless carelessness. In all your daydreams, the first time he kissed you was like him: sweet, gentle, soft, and joyful. Not this erratic culmination of a frustrating night, sloppy and cold and rigid.

But you weren’t pushing him away. The 'erratic culmination of a frustrating night' applied to the both of you and, well, this was certainly a sign that he saw you as more than a friend. And either way - soft and sweet or rough and passionate - you weren’t complaining about the kiss, not when it came to Josh. You were sure it showed in how enthusiastically you kissed him back, pressing your hand to the back of his neck and clutching his coat with your other one, or hopes so, at least. 

To finally get what you wanted after waiting for so long – it was quickly becoming a drug that you didn’t want to stop, but Josh eventually pulled away after a minute.

“Get in the car,” he murmured softly, the demand clear but with room for you to say no.

There was absolutely no hesitation in your actions, though, as you threw the door open and climbed in, immediately crowded against the seat by Josh, who’d slammed the door as soon as his feet cleared it. The way he grasped your thighs and manhandled them apart so that he could slot himself between them had your legs trembling, and you were certain that he felt it.

The action also, however, made your dress ruch up around your hips, exposing your panties and making you intimately aware of the dull pulse that had started when Josh pushed you against the car grow into a full flutter of tightening muscles between your legs.

“Look at you now,” he whispered, hands smoothing up your thighs until his thumbs pressed into the crease where your underwear stopped. “All spread out for…who, Y/N?”

The question caught you off-guard and made you reel back, immediately pushing back at his attempt to get you to submit. “Who the fuck else would I be spread out for?” you snarked breathily, watching in interest as his eyes, cast in shadows from the outside street lamps trying to break through the layer of snow covering you. “The ghost of Christmas past?”

If someone asked you to relay the events that happened next, you’d be unable to recall just how Josh got your panties off without knocking either of you to the floor or losing the moment. But he was just as intense now, staring intently at the burgeoning wetness that he dipped his thumb into before staring you down and bringing the digit to his lips.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I was understanding tonight,” he said quietly, the low noise in the car just adding to the atmosphere. “When you kissed Danny, it was no big deal. A funny little coincidence, I thought.”

“I didn’t go around meaning to kiss your brothers,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like Josh was around to know that, anyways. He just happened to show up at the wrong times.

He didn’t agree, apparently, and his hand shot up to your throat with a gentle pressure that was only there to warn you. From there, those same fingers slid up to grip your chin. “I wasn’t finished,” he said shortly, molten eyes burning into yours. You were frozen - pitifully turned on at his display of desire and the discrepancy from his usual demeanor (not that you didn’t want to jump his bones either way). “I was a little pissed when you decided to suggest it to Sam; the poor boy was just trying to enjoy the music,” he tsked, and your face burned even though you knew he wasn’t really insinuating anything humiliating.

But it was enough to loosen your lips again. “Sam kissed me back,” you pointed out, expression melting into wanton desire as he leaned down to interrupt you with another kiss.

“I said not another word,” he said into your ear afterwards, right before he straightened up. His hand tore at his belt buckle and snapped it through the loops in a way that had you much wetter than you already had been. “See, even Sam wasn’t such a big deal, because it was mistletoe. But then?” he scoffed, pulling back to rip his fitted dress pants off. Following it up with a blunt drag of his fingers across your clit so that you arched your back and squirmed underneath him, his voice faltered in arousal. “Then you went and kissed my twin brother right in front of me when I asked you so nicely to stay where you fucking were for once. And that–” he chuckled, looking for consent that you gave immediately, if a little breathily, “–that was just the cherry on top.” 

His middle finger slid into you suddenly, slender and tough and skilled. You whined at the sudden intrusion, gripping the bottom of the seat as Josh used his limited space to pump his hand into you. It was quite evident how much your little game had excited you– the wet noises that sounded out when Josh added another one gave you away and seemed louder in the enclosed space of the car.

“Is this what you wanted?” Josh asked, his entire body tense as his forearms flexed with the ‘come hither’ motion he’d begun in fervor. “Kissing my brothers– do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but all that escaped was a half cut-off moan, shaking with the rhythm that Josh was making. Each thrust pushed you higher and higher, and you were surprised that the heat wasn’t melting the snow right off his windows.

Josh’s thumb met your clit, and the sensations were enough to make you whine. Against his cloth seats, your dress rode further and further up, until you used one hand to push it down again. It was getting in the way, obscuring your view of where Josh was taking his pleasure in yours, his eyes hooded and watching you – always watching you – while his other hand had brought his cock out to play. Or…for him to play with.

“What, you wanna be shy now?” he drawled, taking his fingers out and fisting his cock, warming it up with your slick before nudging himself between your lips and against your entrance. “Take your tits out, sweet girl. I wanna see them. I am the one you wanna show them to, right?”

“Yes, Josh,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and slip him inside. It perhaps wasn’t the first time you’d imagined – it was better. It was raw (whoops) and validating in a way you didn’t know you needed after so long of just being the friend. “I want you,” you assured, peeling the stretchier material up until your breasts spilled out, having been tightly bound to you for the entire evening by the dress. It was on the few times you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and it was paying off, just to see Josh’s face drop slack as he drank them in, going so far to turn on an overhead light.

But that caused you to look nervously at the windows. What if someone saw?

As if he could read your mind, Josh ran his hands up your body to cup you and tease your nipples, already pebbled from the cold. “Don’t worry, Y/N, nobody can see through the snow and the tint. I promise.”

The peek of the Josh you knew made your heart clench, and with a pull of his shirt, he attached his lips to yours and guided himself into your body with a groan that echoed in your mouth.

“Oh, god, Josh,” you gasped, face screwing up as he stretched you out. Your toes curled and you clenched your thighs around his hips, fingers digging into his back while you brought him closer to you. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to feel you inside me,” you whispered, and Josh let out a soft moan at that.

“Well, you didn’t have to kiss my brothers to get me to fuck you,” he responded with a distracted grin, once he pulled up enough to brace himself. 

You were about to roll your eyes and object when he finally rolled his hips forward, nudging his cock even deeper into you before pulling out and sheathing himself once again, beginning to fuck you in a rhythm that was short and powerful to match the minimal space he had. 

The way he filled you up was nothing short of euphoric. He lit up the nerves everywhere he touched, and after fantasizing about it all those times, your body seemed to suck Josh in with the intent never to let him go. 

“You’re so wet, Y/N, damn,” Josh panted, eyes hooded and glancing down to where the wet noises of each thrust were coming from. “Kissing Jake didn’t get you all soaked and ready for my cock, right?”

You knew your hair would look like a rat’s nest from how much you were squirming and thrashing your head back and forth against the seats. “No. I didn’t kiss them like I wanted to kiss you.”

Josh’s response was interrupted by his phone ringing, and speak of the devil, Jake’s contact popped up on his screen, and you suddenly remembered where you were and what you’d been doing before Josh decided to give it to you in his back seat. Josh didn’t care, though, and the phone rang out as he upped his efforts and snapped his hips into you as deeply as he could, snaking his fingers down to play with your clit.

Your back arched at the stimulation, and any comment you had was preceded with a whine. “Josh, we’re supposed to pick up your brothers.”

Josh hauled you up, and you repositioned with him, letting him plant his feet on the ground as you straddled him with your breasts in his face. If anything, the change made him care even less about what he was supposed to be doing.

“I don’t care,” he chuckled breathlessly, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he grunted and shoved his hips up into you. 

You were fast approaching your high, quicker than usual, and Josh was doing everything he could to get you there, it seemed: angling his hips, mouthing over your tits, and still slipping those damn fingers around your clit and where he was still moving inside of you. “They might come looking for us,” you said, your hips twitching and bearing down to help get him to where you wanted. 

“Let them,” Josh grunted again. “You made me watch you kiss them, they can watch me fuck you. Fair trade.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t working your hips like a bitch in heat, desperately climbing a ladder upward, but not fast enough. You knew Josh was joking, but he seemed hell-bent on keeping up the narrative just for shits and giggles, and you wondered if it was part of his punishment when his fingers stopped dancing around your bundle of nerves. 

You saw him wipe his hand on the seat, and that distracted you enough that when he leaned forward, you were pitched with him, which forced you to wrap yourself around him even more as he desperately grasped the seat in front of him and used it to anchor himself as his rhythm faltered and all he could do was recklessly push his hips into you, deep and hard and without much finesse anymore.

Your noises grew in frequency and volume; you were right there, all it would take would be a couple more thrusts at this exact angle and— and—-

“I’m cumming!” you sobbed into Josh’s neck, jolting with each powerful thrust into you.

Feeling you cum around him, Josh groaned and pitched up once more, and then warmth exploded inside you. He hugged you to him as he leaned back against the seats to catch his breath, and you whimpered as he shifted in you. 

“Was that better than kissing my brothers?” he asked jokingly, stroking your hair with one hand while the other drew lines up your bare back. 

Now that you were cooling down, you felt the consequence of not turning the heat on, and the sweat on your body quickly made you shiver, so Josh grabbed his coat and covered you while you nodded. “Josh,” you deadpanned, “If you have to ask that question, you need to gain a little more confidence in your abilities.”

He snorted as his phone went off again. “Ah, shit. They really are going to come looking for us soon if we don’t…” He trailed off, obviously not wanting to leave the warmth of your body, or give off the impression that he wasn’t going to participate in any aftercare at all, but you hadn’t exactly picked the perfect time and place for that, so you understood.

“It’s fine. Just…bring me back to yours and make me hot chocolate, and we’ll call it even.”

Josh looked scandalized, and he vigorously shook his head in dissent. “Uh-uh. You’re getting more than hot chocolate– who have you been fucking that your standards are so low?” You smiled, but as soon as you opened your mouth, Josh’s face scrunched up and he kissed you to interrupt. “Actually, don’t answer that. That’s gonna change when we get back to my house,” he promised, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “I’ll show you as many times as you want,” he grinned, finally dislodging himself as he waited for you to get off his lap. 

You colored as you found and pulled up your panties as quickly as you could, not wanting to drip in Josh’s car. “I…might just take you up on that,” you said quietly, watching for Josh’s reaction.

His features softened and he smiled, which was a little off-putting since he was tucking his dick away simultaneously, then wiped his hand again on his nice, cloth seats. He must have seen your expression, because he cocked his head. “What?” he queried, moving to get out of the backseat.

“You just…wiped my cum on your seats,” you laughed. “Your brothers are going to have to sit back here, and they might–”

Josh tugged you out of the seat and pressed you up against the side of the car for the second time that night. “What? Feel you? Smell you? I bet their mouths would water,” he murmured lasciviously. “But I don’t care.”

You blushed but chuckled lightly. “You know, for someone who made such a big deal about me kissing his brothers, you’re sure making a 180 here with all the 'not caring'.”

“You wanna know why I don’t care, then?” he asked, lips by your ear as he fished for his keys. 

“Enlighten me.”

“Because those are my seats, and I made you cum in my car. If that’s where I have available to clean your sweet slick off my fingers every fucking time I touch you from now on, so be it—“ and that was a promise if you’d ever heard one, one that had you squirming and refocusing on the desire you held for Josh, tucked away and safe in your body, “—and my brothers will know that there’ll be no more of this mistletoe shit.”

You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, ducking under Josh’s arm to escape the newly-grown tension and into the front passenger seat. You wouldn’t be held liable for anything that transpired when he was talking like that and making vows that sounded a lot like a commitment— at the very least, like this would happen again, maybe even several times.

“Watch out, Josh,” you sang playfully, catching his gaze at your ass before you disappeared around the back of the car. You reconvened inside, this time fully dressed and going to pick up his brothers for real this time. “Your jealousy is showing.”

~~~

Taglist:

@fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy @gretavanfleas @gretavanfleetposts @doodle417 @razorbladekiszka @sammysvanfeet @s-u-t @lallisonl @hayley1623 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @toxbexannouncedx @sammyslappers @alexxavicry @thecoldwind @maedesculpaeusoubi @jordierama @sarakay-gvf @givemeyourtots2 @tripthelightfandomtastic @stardustchorus

[matthewtkachuk]

here’s day 1 ❤️

day 1 - christmas (baby please come home) - vince dunn x reader

They say that the very definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. Vince doesn’t have a choice, forced to relive Christmas Eve where you leave him for good, despite his attempts to change the outcome. Can he escape the time loop and win you back, or is he doomed to repeat the worst day of his life for eternity?

pairing: vince dunn x reader

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, angst

word count: 8.5k

authors: @babytkachuks & @bricksatlandyswindow​

a/n: day one of tropemas is here and she’s angsty, let us know what you think! 

He met you before Christmas and lost you at Christmas, too. A holiday that once meant so much to the both of you and had once held such precious memories. Now it was tainted by the image of your retreating form and a single lone suitcase full of what was left of your things.

He’d been pulling away, and though he hadn’t kissed that girl, he’d thought about it, had her in his arms long enough for someone to send you a photo of it, and that was enough for you to finally leave. You’d put up with a lot of his shit, had taken it all in stride - his career, his need to go out and get drunk every chance he could get, the way he would ignore you for a fucking video game, the radio silence after a rough loss when all you wanted was to take his pain away. But the second he’d stopped thinking about you first, you knew you couldn’t do it anymore.

At first, you had wondered if it was cruel to leave someone on Christmas Eve, but the thought of sitting through what was arguably your favorite holiday and pretending everything was okay to only break up with him days later didn’t sit right with you. And so, December 24th at 10:45 am, you told him you couldn’t do it anymore.

You were lit up by the Christmas tree against the large windows of the living room when you kissed his cheek and told him you loved him, but you couldn’t stay with someone who didn’t really want you around. The very Christmas tree that you had spent hours on, stringing the lights and garland, hanging the ornaments just so. He had sat on that damn computer, laughing and shouting and streaming while you begged with your eyes for him to give you the slightest attention. It hadn’t worked - you’d finished decorating alone, had drunk hot chocolate by the fire with a movie playing alone, had crawled into bed alone with the sounds of his shouting echoing through the apartment.

Three weeks later and you were gone, leaving him and the Christmas tree, the 2020 ornament taunting him with its empty frame. It was a reminder of one of the numerous ways he had let you down. All you’d asked of him, in your voice that had grown so quiet in his presence, was to please cut out this photo and place it in the ornament. You’d ripped the image in half and left it on the kitchen counter before you’d left.

Keep reading

[butgilinsky]

ahem. attention pls and ty

@shelbsatans is a joint acc where my bbies @babytkachuks and @bricksatlandyswindow post FIRE ass fics. they’re in the middle of 12 days of tropemas and already has a few other fics that will break your heart and sometimes put it back together.

anyways their joint acc is on the rise and it would mean everything if y’all hit their follow button🤧 if you’re not following their personal accs get on that too

okay that’s all for this psa thank y’all💓

[ao3feed-gwainepercival]

Found

by MerthurAllure (Kirbymatsu)

A short perwaine soulmates AU

Words: 392, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of 🎄 12 days of tropemas 🎄

Fandoms: Merlin (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Gwaine (Merlin), Percival (Merlin)

Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Mutual Pining, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Rated T For Shirtless Kissing, No Dialogue, Short & Sweet, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, 12 Days of Tropemas

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/35780551

[digthewriter]

“Canon AU” for 12-days-of-tropemas | for @merlin-fic-server. What happens if Morgana and Gwen become the queens of Camelot? 

[a-written-dream]

Chapter 3: Trope 3 Office AU

Chapters: 3/12

ch.1, ch.2, ch.4, ch.5, ch.6, ch.7, ch.8, ch.9, ch.10, ch.11, ch.12

Words: 4,337

Fandom: Merlin (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Background & Cameo Characters

Additional Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, 12 Days of Tropemas, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Office, Christmas Party, Enemies to Lovers, Gifts, Mistletoe

Summary:

A collection of Christmas ficlets and drabbles, for MFBC server's 12 Days of Tropemas prompts! Trope 1: Coffee Shop AU Trope 2: Hurt/Comfort Trope 3: Office AU

Chapter summary:

The only downside to working for Camelot Ltd., really, Merlin thinks, is Arthur. Merlin is great at holding grudges, and it's not like Arthur has tried very hard to apologise for being an ass, anyway. Only, Christmas approaches and Arthur does try, and Merlin's resolve crumbles rather quickly.

It’s a gloomy and dreary morning in December. It’s cold enough to feel the chill in your bones, but not quite cold enough for the drizzle to turn into snow. Merlin hasn’t had the best of mornings, and the weather sure isn’t helping to make it any better; he stayed up way too late (binge-watching the new series of The Witcher, so he can’t really blame anyone but himself for that one), was woken up way too early by Aithusa who for some reason wanted pets and snuggles at five am, and The Round Table, his favourite coffee shop, is closed due to staff shortages. Which means he’s in a bit of a sour mood, and about thirty minutes early to work, even when he had to do a detour to the next best place for his morning caffeine.

He lets himself into the dark building and stops to watch the lights strung around the Christmas tree in the corner glint for a moment before the lights flicker on above him. He tries to make a habit of being at work at least a few minutes earlier than he strictly needs to be, but there’s always someone here before him. It’s odd, being the first to arrive.

He turns the alarm off and and walks towards the reception desk, tossing his bag into his seat and shrugging out of his warm coat. He keeps his scarf on more for the comfort than the cold.

Sitting down in his chair, he considers whether or not he should get an early start at the myriad of emails the company has undoubtedly gotten since he left yesterday, or if he should brood and nurse his coffee until he actually starts. Don’t get him wrong, he likes working at Camelot Ltd. The hours are good, the pay is great, the work is interesting and stimulating even two months in, and the people are lovely – well, most of them. But he’s slept like four hours and scrolling aimlessly through his phone for the next half hour while he finishes his coffee and maybe makes some more sounds so much better than working.

He’s just finished his second scroll through of Instagram when he hears the door open. He sits up a little straighter and prepares to greet whoever’s decided to come in a little early, until he sees who it is. His smile and mood simultaneously drop.

Arthur Pendragon, son of the CEO and an arrogant ass, gives him a surprised look.

Merlin scowls at him.

He doesn’t forget that Arthur works here – how could he? – but sometimes he likes to pretend. It’s not very difficult, considering he rarely sees Arthur because Arthur is a workaholic who comes in before Merlin and leaves after him, and who doesn’t seem to think leaving the office for lunch is worth his time. Merlin has seen him a handful of times since he started in mid-October, unlike the other employees who he sees almost daily. He can’t say he’s complaining; Arthur is nothing more than a pompous, obnoxious prat. Even though he’s apparently perfectly good at faking that he isn’t, judging by the few interactions Merlin’s seen him have with colleagues and clients. Merlin doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Good morning,” he says. He doesn’t care that he sounds a little cranky.

“Erm, morning,” Arthur says, and Merlin scowls a little harder. It’s really not fair of the universe to have made his voice that breathtaking. Or made him that attractive. Good looks and an ugly personality should not be allowed to exist in the same person.

And no, Merlin is not exaggerating, on either account. Arthur is unfairly attractive, and Merlin’s first and subsequent meetings with him have more than confirmed the fact that Arthur is an ass. Sure, Merlin might’ve forgiven Arthur for insulting and snapping at him on Merlin’s first day, if he’d gotten an apology. But it’s been two months and Arthur hasn’t even tried, and Merlin dislikes him more for every day that passes.

Merlin likes to see the best in people, but he’s also petty as hell and knows how to hold a grudge. His mother has told him numerous times that it’s an ugly trait, but if Arthur isn’t going to apologise then why should Merlin forgive him?

Arthur clears his throat and Merlin realises he’s been glaring at him for a little longer than is probably socially acceptable.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair and then gives Merlin a short nod. “Have a good day at work,” he says, crossing the lobby.

Merlin opens his mouth to shoot him a snide remark, but stops when he realises Arthur didn’t actually say anything rude. That he actually said something nice.

Merlin blinks at him as he stops in front of the elevator and presses the button. “Uh, you too.”

The doors to the elevator open and Arthur steps in, and the doors close after him. But Merlin doesn’t miss the way Arthur glances at him.

How could he? He’s still staring at the space Arthur occupied a minute later.

Huh, he thinks. Odd.

 Sometime after ten, a delivery comes in, which isn’t unusual in itself, but they don’t often get gift baskets. Especially not ones that look so carefully prepared.

It’s probably for Arthur. He seems like the kind of person who manages to make people feel like they should thank him for no discernible reason.

“Who’s it for?” Merlin asks, looking up from his computer to smile at the delivery man. He’s already going through the floor plans, going through the list of who’s on what floor so he can direct the man to the right area of the large building.

“A Merlin Wyllt,” the man says.

Merlin opens his mouth while his brain works to figures out where to send the man. And then realises he’s Merlin Wyllt.

“What?”

“Merlin Wyllt,” the man repeats.

“Uh, yeah, that’s.. That’s me,” Merlin says.

The man’s face lights up in a grin. “Excellent, makes my job easier,” he says, placing the basket on the desk. “Have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” Merlin says absentmindedly, standing up so he can get a better look at the content of the basket. It’s a little generic, as most gift baskets are, but there’s a collection of speciality teas from Merlin’s favourite brand, a gift card to The Round Table, and a packet of the shortbread biscuits he likes to munch on in the afternoons. It’s really surprisingly thoughtful.

He frowns, looking for a card, wondering who in the world would send him a gift basket.

“Aha!” he exclaims, fishing out a small white card from the food stuffs. He flips it over, and frowns.

In neat, round handwriting it says, I’m sorry, and nothing else.

Merlin tucks the card back into the basket and moves it to the top of the filing cabinets behind the desk so it’s not in the way. He sits back down in his chair and stares at it for a moment, and then his eyes move towards the elevator doors. No, he thinks, shaking his head. He’s not nice enough to do something like this. Besides, why would he know Merlin’s favourite tea brand? Or his favourite coffee shop? Or his favourite biscuits?

Nope, it must be someone else. Even though Merlin can’t think of a single person who might have something to be sorry for.

He decides to ignore it for now, and goes back to working. This is turning out to be a rather weird day.

 “Oh, who’s that from?” Gwen asks, leaning her elbows on Merlin’s desk and nodding towards the basket that Merlin’s very much not been able to ignore. Being tired and having self-control do not go hand-in-hand.

Merlin glances at the basket. “I don’t know. It just came with a note that said ‘I’m sorry’,” he says with a shrug, locking his computer and standing up from his chair.

Gwen raises an eyebrow at him.

Merlin rolls his eyes as he grabs his coat and his wallet. “No, it’s not him.”

Gwen sighs. “You know, Merlin, you really should give him a second chance,” she says. “He’s really not as bad as you think he is.”

“Why? So he can insult me again?” Merlin asks.

“Well, you did insult him too, didn’t you?” Gwen retorts.

Merlin waves her off and pulls on his coat. “Besides the point.“

“I really think you two would get on really well,” Gwen says, not for the first time.

Merlin gives her a scandalous but mostly joking look. “Wow, Guinevere, I really thought you were a better judge of character.”

Gwen gives him a half-hearted glare. “Alright, you grump,” she says, hooking her arms through his. “Come on, I’m starving.”

***

The following day, Merlin spends a lot of his time in-between other duties decorating the top floor longue and cafeteria for the office Christmas party. It’s apparently an annual thing, and according to Gwen and some others Merlin has spoken to, it’s a lot less stilted and awkward than office parties tend to be. Actually even a lot of fun. Uther leaves early in the evening with a half-joking warning about what happens if he returns on Monday to a trashed office, and apparently neither Arthur or Morgana will snitch to their father about any mishaps that might happen after he leaves. Merlin’s a little excited, if he’s going to be honest, even if it means he’ll have to spend an entire evening in the vicinity of Arthur.

It’s getting close to lunch, but Merlin figures he’ll just work through it. He didn’t bring anything, and probably won’t have time to go out and get anything either; there’s still a few bits and bobs that needs to be put up, and then he’s likely got a myriad of emails to catch up on from this morning. He’ll just make sure to eat a large dinner.

“Merlin.”

Merlin turns around from where he’s hanging tinsel over a cupboard, and furrows his brow when he spots Arthur in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“We’re ordering lunch from the Indian place down the road,” Arthur says, showing his hands into his pockets. “Do you want something? Assuming you’ve not eaten already.”

Merlin blinks at him.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says eloquently. “Anything vegetarian is fine. Preferably spicy.”

Arthur nods, but then doesn’t leave straight away. He rocks back on his feet in a way that is distinctively un-Arthur-ly. He clears his throat.

“It looks good,” he says, nodding to the decorations.

Merlin blinks at him again. He feels like he does a lot of that, recently: staring dumbfounded at Arthur.

“Thanks,” he says.

Arthur gives him a tight and awkward smile and then takes a step back. “We’ll be up with the food when it’s ready,” he says.

Merlin nods, and then watches in confusion as Arthur leaves. He has a feeling this might be turning from one odd day to an odd week.

 Arthur and a few from his floor, including Gwen, Lancelot, and Leon, come up twenty or so minutes later with paper bags. Merlin can smell the food from where he’s sitting in one of the sofas. He closes his laptop and grins at Gwen when she plops down next to him.

“Here’s yours. I hope it’s alright,” Arthur says, handing Merlin a Tupperware container.

“Thanks,” he says, being extra careful to make sure their fingers don’t brush when he takes it.

And boy is the food delicious, and the company is great too. Surprisingly, that includes Arthur. He’s attentive to others when they speak, smiles and nods and asks questions, and the corner of his eyes scrunch up when he laughs. And sure, he throws out some insults and jibes, but they seem to come from a good place, and no one appears to take offense.

Merlin has a fleeting thought that maybe Arthur isn’t actually so bad, but then he shakes himself out of it. It’s because they’re in a group, surely. If it had just been him and Merlin, he probably would have been his old wanker self. Yeah, that’s definitely it. Merlin’s bitterness is absolutely justified.

***

Gwen wasn’t wrong, when she said the Christmas party wasn’t awkward. Once Uther leaves, everyone rolls up the sleeves of their Christmas sweaters and lets go off all things work. It’s like they’re a large group of friends, rather than colleagues, which Merlin supposes makes sense, considering how long some of the people here have known each other. And the best part is, no one makes Merlin feel left out. He bounces from group to group like he’s been here for years, and he honestly doesn’t think he’s ever felt so welcome and comfortable at a job before.

He doesn’t avoid Arthur, necessarily, but they both seem to be skirting around each other, because Merlin doesn’t so much as bump into him for the first couple of hours. Which is kind of a shame, because the more mulled wine Merlin drinks the more keen he is on talking to him. To insult his pretty face, of course.

“Lance, you have to try the mulled apple cider, you’ll love it,” Gwen says, grinning at Lance and squeezing his arm.

“Oh, I’ll get you a cup! I need a refill anyway,” Merlin says.

Lance smiles gently at him. “Thanks.”

Merlin waves him off and extracts himself from their group, crossing the longue towards the kitchen, singing along quietly to the Christmas song playing on the speakers.

He startles when Arthur appears suddenly in the doorway just as Merlin reaches it.

“Oh shit, sorry. Didn’t see you,” Arthur says, smiling apologetically.

“Mm, yeah I’m sure it’s difficult to see through that massive ego of yours,” Merlin says, and okay, that doesn’t really make any sense, but he’s a little tipsy and his mouth is working faster than his mouth.

Arthur blinks at him twice, and then he’s laughing, loud and unrestrained.

Merlin kind of hates how much he likes it.

“Are you shit-talking me?” Arthur asks, eyes bright with mirth.

“So what if I am?” Merlin asks, leaning forward just the slightest.

Arthur grins crookedly. “I’d saying you’re doing a pretty lousy job at it.”

Merlin frowns. “Oh yeah? Well-“

He’s interrupted by a wolf whistle. He’s pretty sure it’s Gwaine.

Merlin turns around, confused, and sees everyone staring at the two of them. He opens his mouth to ask when Gwen giggles and points above them. Merlin follows her gaze and his eyes fall on a spring of mistletoe hung in the doorway. A mistletoe Merlin knows for certain he did not put there.

“You know the rules, boys!” Morgana yells from across the room.

Merlin turns back to Arthur, who has a concerned frown on his face. He searches Merlin’s face for a moment, and then he turns to the others. “Come on, guys. Let’s n-“

Merlin doesn’t wait to find out what he’s going to say, and instead he grabs the front of Arthur’s ugly Christmas sweater and pulls him down to press their lips together. Because he’s been thinking about kissing Arthur since he saw his stupid face, and what other opportunity is he going to get without admitting as much? Arthur doesn’t need his head growing any bigger.

It’s a hate kiss, obviously.

Arthur startles in surprise, but when Merlin doesn’t pull away he relaxes against him, his hand finding Merlin’s waist, and boy is actually kissing Arthur so much better than thinking about it.

He pulls away when he hears whoops and cheers and realises he should probably stop now unless he wants to end up snogging Arthur in front of the entire office.

Arthur blinks his eyes open, hand still on Merlin’s waist, and stares at him in confusion.

Merlin shrugs, releasing Arthur’s sweater and patting his chest. “It’s tradition.“

Arthur swallows, withdrawing his hand – and oh how Merlin hates that he misses the heat the moment it’s gone – and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle.

“Well, certainly seemed to satisfy the lot of them,” he says, making a rude gesture when Gwaine wolf whistles again.

Merlin wants to say that it wasn’t near enough to satisfy him, but instead he grins. “I’ve had better,” he says.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. “Is that a challange?”

Merlin hums. “Maybe.”

“If you’re going to flirt, can you please do it without blocking the only way to the booze?” Gwaine says, slinging an arm over Merlin’s shoulders and grinning at them brashly.

Arthur clears his throat, cheeks dusted an endearing pink, and steps to the side. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asks, sending a half-hearted glare at Gwaine.

Gwaine pulls Merlin with him into the kitchen and slaps Arthur’s shoulder. “Not even close.”

***

“Why did he have to be such a good kisser?” Merlin complains as he walks down the street back towards the office with Gwen after lunch on Wednesday. It’s honestly the only thing he’s been able to think about the past five days. That and the fact that Arthur might not be entirely as bad as Merlin thought, and that he has a rather lovely smile, and that he’s actually really quite nice and funny.

Gwen grins at him, tucking her chin into her scarf. “Are you ready to admit your grudge and dislike for him are unwarranted yet?”

“No,” Merlin whines.

“Oh, come on. I know you can be a big boy, Merlin,” Gwen says, nudging him in the side. “It’s okay to misread people, and you and Arthur did have a rather disastrous first meeting.”

Merlin snorts. “You don’t say. But admitting I was wrong means admitting defeat!”

“Defeat against what, exactly?”

“Against him and his stupid charm!” Merlin exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air.

Gwen unlocks the door to the office and pushes it open, giving him a look that’s somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I? Or has this been Arthur’s plan all along? To get me to drop my guard so I’m not prepared next time?” Okay, maybe Merlin is being a little ridiculous.

“Oh yes. Arthur, the evil mastermind,” Gwen says rolling her eyes as she walks into the lobby.

“You never know, Gwen,” Merlin says, walking in after her.

“I’ve known Arthur since we were children, Merlin. I’m pretty sure I know Arthur well enough to know he isn’t actually evil. A bit of an asshole, sometimes, sure, but never-“

She’s interrupted by Merlin’s loud gasp.

There’s a red dragon plushie placed on Merlin’s desk, with a folded card that says To Merlin.

“Gwen,” he whispers excitedly, grabbing the plushie and grinning widely.

There’s already a grin on Gwen’s face too.

“It’s Y Ddraig Goch,” he says.

“I can see that,” Gwen says, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Who’s it from?”

Merlin grabs the folded card and opens it. Inside, it says, Sorry for having such a big ego and for being a bad kisser.

Merlin’s cheeks grow warm at the same time as something giddy settles in his chest. The only time he’s talked about how much he loves the legends in Arthur’s vicinity was in the cafeteria just a few weeks into his employment. How in the world does Arthur remember that?

“Ready to admit defeat yet?” Gwen ask.

Merlin slumps into his chair, smoothing his fingers over the red plushie. “Do I have a choice?”

“I’m afraid I don’t think you do. I’ll see you tonight!” she says, throwing him a final grin before she makes her way towards the elevators.

“Yeah, see you later,” Merlin says, not taking his eyes off the dragon. He sighs. Maybe it really is time to admit he was wrong. Funny how it doesn’t feel like defeat at all.

 He leaves a thank you note on Arthur’s desk. It’s not enough, but for now it will have to do.

***

Morgana and Arthur leave the office just before lunch on Thursday for their final audit with Camelot’s sister company, Avalon, before the holidays.

Merlin hears the ding of the elevator and watches them as they cross the floor towards the door. Arthur rolls his eyes affectionally at something Morgana says, easy grin on his lips.

Merlin isn’t sure how an apology gift basket managed to radically change how he sees Arthur, but here they are.

Arthur’s gaze flickers over to him, and when their eyes meet, his smile turns soft and warm.

Merlin’s heart skips a beat, and he figures he can’t keep denying that in the course of a week, he’s gone from strongly disliking Arthur to liking him rather quite a lot. In both a platonic and not-so-platonic way.

He smiles back gently, and hopes that Arthur sees it for the peace offer and thank you that it is.

***

It’s Friday afternoon, and Merlin is spending his time playing bad games online to pass the time. It’s the final work day before people take time off for Christmas next week, which means that the afternoon has been incredibly slow. But the office doesn’t close until five, and so he’s trying to pass the time – it’s working so-and-so, but at least it’s better than staring into space.

The elevator dings as it arrives, and Merlin envies whoever has been allowed to leave early. He knows some people left after lunch, but he assumed most of those who stayed would work the full day to finish things off before the weekend.

He looks up with a ‘Merry Christmas’ already on his lips, but stops short when he spots who it is. He has to glance at the clock on the wall. Four o’clock. He raises an eyebrow at Arthur.

Arthur smiles back at him.

“You’re leaving early today,” Merlin says.

Arthur’s smile turns just the slightest bit nervous. “Uh, yeah. I have something I need to fix,” he says.

“Oh. Well, Merry Christmas, then,” Merlin says, giving him a smile that’s just the slighest bit tense. Is it weird that he suddenly really doesn’t want to go a week without seeing Arthur?

Arthur just smiles at him, and then he crosses the lobby and disappears through the door.

Merlin watches him leave with a frown. Rude. When the door closes behind Arthur, he sighs and settles in for another hour of mind-numbing games before he’s finally allowed to leave for a well-deserved break.

 The hour drags on, and he’s eternally grateful when he’s finally able to turn off his computer at five.

He’s packing his bag when Gwen walks up to his desk. “Happy Christmas holidays,” she says, smiling widely. “We’re still on for Sunday, right?”

Merlin grins. “Yeah, course.”

“Good! Looking forward to it,” Gwen says, waving at him. “I’ll see you then!”

“See you then,” Merlin says, smiling at her as she opens the door.

But instead of walking out, she stops in the doorway, staring in front of her for a moment.

“Gwen?” Merlin asks.

Gwen lets out a laugh, and then turns to grin at Merlin. “Merry Christmas, Merlin.”

Merlin frowns at her in confusion as she disappears through the door. He shakes his head and closes his bag, pulling on his coat and wrapping his scarf around his neck.

He pushes the door open to the cold December night, burrowing into his scarf against the frigid air, and steps out. Only to stop abruptly two steps from the door.

Arthur grins at him gently. “Hi.”

Merlin blinks at him, and is Arthur ever going to stop throwing him for a loop? Just a week ago he really thought he understood Arthur, but now he thinks he’s barely even started to.

“Uh, hi,” he says. He tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Are you.. waiting for someone?”

“I am, actually. A tall bloke with massive ears, whom I owe a proper apology,” Arthur says. A snowflake lands in his hair.

Merlin huffs out a laugh. “Good way to preface it,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Arthur’s grin turns a little more confident. “Yeah, well. We both know I’m not the best at social interactions.”

Merlin hides his grin in his scarf. “You don’t say,” he says. “How long have you been standing here?” he asks, taking a few steps closer so he doesn’t stand just outside the door. And maybe simply because he wants to stand a little closer.

“Not too long,” Arthur says. “I just wanted to catch you at a time when we both weren’t working.”

Merlin furrows his brow just the slightest. “Okay?”

Arthur clears his throat, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. He keeps the other behind his back. “I, uh, wanted to apologise. For snapping at you and calling you an idiot the first time we met. And then for not apologising for it earlier,” he says. “I was having bad day, but that’s no excuse to be an asshole.”

A smile pulls at Merlin’s cheeks. “Oh, so not for the ego and the bad kiss?” he asks.

Arthur laughs, and it’s bright and happy in the cold night. He pulls out a bouquet of white tulips and lilies and red roses. His cheeks are rosy red and the light from office illuminates his features just so. Snow is falling properly now, and Christmas lights twinkle along the street.

Merlin couldn’t have made it more perfect if he tried.

“I was actually hoping I could make it up to you.”

“Yeah?” Merlin asks, grinning so widely his cheeks hurt.

Arthur grins right back at him. “I know a place that makes great spicy ramen and has absolutely amazing beer.”

“Well, how could I refuse?” Merlin asks, gingerly taking the bouquet from Arthur’s hand. “Lead the way.”

Arthur slips his hand into Merlin’s and stuffs their hands in his pocket, and Merlin thinks he quite likes all the way that Arthur surprises him.

No, this doesn’t feel like defeat like at all.

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Tropemas Day 09: Unexpected and Appreciated

She was bumped and fell into someone. “I’m sorry!” she said over the music.

“Angel! There you are! Look! We’re under the mistletoe!”

Angel glanced up, but before she could say anything, Gaige was pressing their lips together.

-----

Trope: Stumbling upon mistletoe that leads to a kiss. Angel accidentally bumps into Gaige under mistletoe and it opens up a new side to their relationship.

You can read this on my AO3!!!  And if you wanna leave me a ko-fi, feel free!

Angel was having a hard time with all the people at this party. She’d been told no more than fifty people would be here. There were over two hundred. She supposed that’s what happened in college, but she wanted to leave now.

She moved around the fraternity house, looking for Gaige, but she could not find her friend anywhere.

She was bumped and fell into someone. “I’m sorry!” she said over the music.

“Angel! There you are! Look! We’re under the mistletoe!”

Angel glanced up, but before she could say anything, Gaige was pressing their lips together. Angel was shocked. She’d never considered the possibility of Gaige being attracted to women or attracted to her.

She pressed into Angel, her lips slightly chapped. She held Angel close, hands on either side of her head, anchoring her. Her tongue slipped past Angel’s mouth, pressing against her tongue. Angel moaned and leaned into Gaige, taken so completely by this surprise.

She pressed Angel backwards against a wall, caging her from anyone’s view. Their bodies pressed together as Gaige braced herself on the wall. Her other hand held the base of Angel’s head while she was passionately kissed.

Angel’s hands gripped Gaige’s hips, tugging her clothes towards her. She pressed close to Gaige, savoring every kiss she was given.

When Gaige finally released her, Angel grabbed her head and pulled it close to whisper. “Come back to my dorm with me, that was fucking sexy.”

Gaige giggled. “Hell yeah!”

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Teenage Wasteland

On the sixth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A steamy Christmas Resort meet cute with praise kink!Sammy!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Snowflakes of Love" by Toni Braxton

Trope: Christmas Resort

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, praise kink

Words: 2.8k

Author's Note: Sorry it's late tonight... I had such a fierce craving for melted cheese that I grappled with myself about ordering some cheese sticks forever before I gave into the craving, and that took some time off my hands. Whoops! Here you go, though, and I hope everyone who's planning on watching the concert tonight has fun!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

If there was ever a time that you were glad your mother seemed to have partied herself into someone else’s bed, it was now. Because somehow, someway, you'd managed to party the sexiest man you’d ever seen into yours. And if there had been someone in your shared room, you wouldn’t have his lips at your throat, his hands sliding up your dress to your breasts, or his rock hard cock against your hip as you tugged him into the room.

And that would have been the biggest damn tragedy you’d ever experienced.

“Thank god she’s not here,” you sighed, leading him to the bed in a way you hoped didn’t reveal just how desperate you were to feel him on your skin. “We’d have had to fuck in a storage closet if she was.”

He chuckled, precisely undoing what few buttons were connecting his shirt, and then gently put his hand over yours as you struggled with your dress zipper. “I’d have done it anywhere, anytime. All you had to do was say the words,” he purred, taking over for you. 

 Sam. He’d said his name was Sam.

…

Being pushed into a stranger’s arms was something that had its merits, at times. Like in movies, where a strong, sexy firefighter catches you as you’re pushed into the street. Or when it was a billionaire playboy just destined to fall for you.

But when it was very reminiscent of a scene from “High School Musical,” and all eyes were on you as the DJ felt the need to point out that no one had asked you to dance as the clock counted down to Christmas – no. This was not one of those times.

The only thing keeping you from bolting the second attentions were turned away was the fact that the man you’d been pushed into was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever been close enough to touch. 

That fact was the one that had you chuckling, uncharacteristically hesitant, as your partner moved into position, fumbling a little bit with hand placement at first but quickly getting into the swing of things. “Um…sorry that you were pressured into this, it was a real dick move of the DJ,” you scoffed, voice a little small and insecure.

But the man just stared at you, confusion twisting his mouth into a slight smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice happy and welcoming and warm. “The DJ’s my main man Danny – I asked him to do this.”

You felt your face heat under the festive red and green spotlights swinging around the room. “Wha-- wait, really?” 

Doubt poured out of every pore in your body, it seemed, and the handsome stranger took his hand from yours to cross his heart. “I’m being totally serious. I couldn’t let a pretty thing like you walk away without a partner,” he flirted, coming in close enough that you could smell his cologne.

'Expensive' was what it smelled like.

“Well,” you responded, relaxing a bit in the lowering tensions. Something about this man was strangely comfortable. “Here I am, stranger.”  There was no harm in flirting back a little, right? It was one of the last days you had at the resort - you could live what precious days you had left of your teenage years out in true 'teen dream' fashion.

“Hopefully not for long," the man said, leading you around the dance floor in a simple step-and-rock. "My name is Sam, and I think this Christmas, Santa might have actually put me on the nice list for once.”

…

“You work wonders with that little mouth of yours,” Sam groaned, hand laced through your hair as you bobbed up and down on his dick. Every time you hit a good spot with a wet swipe of your tongue, he jerked; not up into your mouth, though – almost away from your mouth. “Don’t make me cum too soon, pretty thing, I have to wrap the gift before I give it.”

You had to pull off to giggle, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. “Your dick’s a gift now, huh? I think,” you said, demurely crawling up his thin body, “that maybe I should be the judge of that.”

Sam’s hands wandered up and down your curves as you kissed him, hot and heavy and deep. It felt like you were finally getting that moment that all the coming of age films put in the minds of impressionable pre-teens: a party, a handsome stranger, a sloppy makeout session, and the promise of more all as you kept glancing towards the door to make sure your Mom didn’t come back.

“Condom’s in my wallet,” Sam panted, breaking away from your red, swollen lips after searching every inch your mouth had to offer with his tongue. After getting up so that he could retrieve it and put it on, he crawled over you, his long, beautiful hair curtaining you both from the impersonal décor of the resort room. “But I bet I can prove it to you,” he said, in what was supposed to be arrogance, you thought, but the slight shake and nervous voice crack gave you the idea that despite his beauty, he either didn’t do this much or was a little bit on the inexperienced side.

When his fingers met your core, though, and delved into you before hooking and stroking like he’d crafted each nerve himself– there was nothing inexperienced about this skill of his at all.

…

“It’s just me, my older sister and my uncle here,” Sam said, lowering himself into the hot tub in just his boxers. Neither of you had wanted to take the trip to get your swimsuits, so you decided to risk being caught and just stripped to your underwear, not even trying to hide the fact that you were both looking as the other took off their clothes. “My twin older brothers were supposed to come, too, but then they– well, it’s not important what they did, but my parents grounded them.”

“Wait,” you said, brow furrowing. “How old are you? How old are they?” You didn’t want to accidentally prey on someone under 18 just because they looked older than you.

Sam gave a little quirk of a smile. “I’m 19, they’re 22. But they weren’t about to tell my mom and dad to fuck off.”

That was a relief to hear. About his age - although you supposed it was also a good thing that his brothers still listened to their parents, too. “It’s my mom and I,” you replied, going back to the original conversation. “Her girlfriends all pitched in and got her and I this trip as a Christmas gift. And my mom needed a vacation.” You thought back to the year behind you and some of the trials and tribulations you’d both gone through, but specifically her, and wondered if they were really something that should be shared with a complete stranger. Especially one who was obviously down for some extended nighttime activities, from how he’d been flirting.

“Something on your mind?”

You blinked back to the present and chuckled, shaking the thoughts off. “It’s nothing. So you said you’re in a band, huh? Any good?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and you wondered if they’d been successful at all or not – he still loved doing it, so it seemed. “I dunno, ask our Grammy.”

…

As Sam’s hips pistoned in and out of you, you let out a quiet mewl every time he pushed in to the hilt. His breaths were even more labored, and he was panting like a dog into your neck while he pawed at your tits and grabbed at your hips for more purchase, like he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to use his hands for first.

You stood by your earlier theory, that maybe he didn’t have quite as much experience as that cocky facade was there to make you think he did, but the sex was good, he had more than enough length and girth to keep you stretched out and filled up, and you could see your orgasm on the horizon.

So, even though he didn’t seem to need it, you dug into your little box of kinks you had and began to let out praises and encouragement, excited to see what kind of reaction they’d get you. With your lips at his ear, you said, “God, Sam, you fill me up so well. They say if they’re hot, they can’t fuck, but they’ve clearly never met you.”

Sam’s grip tightened on you and he whined, his hips picking up speed. But he was a rockstar; it really wasn’t a surprise that he craved attention and validation from others. He readjusted his position and flipped your around to your hands and knees, slipping and sliding around a bit when he tried to re-enter you from behind. “I wouldn’t be half as good of a fuck if this pussy wasn’t made to take my cock.” He found purchased and didn't hold back like he had the first time.

You groaned and hung your head low, letting your body shake with each thrust into you and desperately hoping that these walls were thick enough for the sake of your neighbors. “Tonight it was,” you agreed, brushing off the fact that you’d likely never see him again after. “Oh shit, Sam, right there– yes, fuck, you’ve got it! Keep hitting me right there and I’ll cum for you,” you promised readily, knowing that you would if he kept catching your g-spot like that. “All over that perfect cock, pretty boy.”

Your plea was low and your promise sincere, but Sam wanted more. “Yeah? How good am I making you feel?” He was shamelessly fishing for more compliments, and you were more than glad to give them.

“Well, I’m about to cum, if that answers it,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Not very many men can make me cum from just their cock alone.”

With a boost of confidence, Sam set his sights on that goal and used your shoulder as a handle to pull you back with, hitting deeper than he had before. It was enough to put you teetering on the edge, and if he could just hold off for a few more well-placed thrusts, you’d fall. “You call me pretty, you make me feel like a sex-god – I don’t know where you’re from, but I’m following you there,” he murmured, his bony, callused fingers digging in harder as his rhythm faltered for a second, then picked up again. 

“You’re so pretty, Sam,” you said honestly. 

He seemed to really like all your affirmations, and this time, they were all true – which wasn’t something you could say for all the men you’d been with. There had been times you praised and flattered them just so that you could get yourself off afterwards, since all men were suckers for compliments. 

Sam, though, hit all your checkmarks and then some. He hummed out something that sounded vaguely like, “More,” but the toll of exertion garbled it.

Either way, you were only more than happy to say ‘more.’ “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe you’re in my bed tonight. The faces you make, even how you–" you were interrupted by a flash of pleasure as he did something with his hips that was no beginner's move, "--how you look fucking sweating– god, I could look at you forever.” Sam’s hips jerked directly into your g-spot then, and it was all you needed to arch your back and gasp, quickly reaching down to circle your clit and extend the orgasm that overtook you. Sam let out a strangled moan from behind you and, with a few more uneven thrusts, buried himself deep inside of you and pulsed, filling up the condom he’d donned. 

As both of you caught your breaths, you shakily lowered yourself down to your forearms and Sam followed, trying to chase the warmth of your cunt that he didn’t seem quite ready to leave, yet. You felt his weight settle on top of you, and the pressure across your body felt…really nice. Like an extra-weighted blanket that kissed your neck and had a hummingbird heartbeat that you could feel where it was pressed to your shoulder blade.

“I’m gonna have to leave soon, aren’t I?” he said softly, dread clear in his tone.

You chuckled from underneath him. “Maybe. But not right now. Right now, you stay right where you are.”

He listened readily, even if he did eventually pull away to take the condom off and hide it in a piece of toilet paper. When he returned, he sat next to you instead of climbing back on top, and you missed his warmth, but you were also tuckered out, and once Sam started trailing his hand up and down your spine, you didn’t know you’d fallen asleep until you woke up, alone in the room.

The door slipped shut – you figured that was what woke up, and the dark shape that turned out to be your mom whispered, “Sorry!” as you sat up, a different name than hers on your lips.

Oh well. It was bound to happen, so you didn’t let the fact that Sam had left without a goodbye keep you from returning to sleep. After you dragged yourself up and to the bathroom, because a UTI was enough to keep you from sleeping again, wrapped in the blanket you’d brought and hoping that your mom didn’t know you were naked underneath it as you passed each other in the room.

…

Considering that you were the one that was supposed to be jumpy after a night out, you found your mom’s behavior strange the next morning at breakfast. Restless, searching, and barely touching her plate, you raised your brows as she acted like a kid on Christmas. Which was apt, considering that it was Christmas. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking towards the door where she’s fixed her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I just…met someone last night?”

A smile spread out across your lips. Because it definitely hadn’t been obvious this morning when she came in smelling like a man, and that thought wiped the smile right off your lips. Because if you could smell her date’s cologne…then shit.

“That’s cool,” you replied mildly. The last thing you wanted to do was give off the impression that you expected anything from her, whether that be a committed relationship or for her to be celibate until she died. She deserved happiness in whichever form it found her, and you weren’t going to let her worry for you ruin anything. 

She smiled, then, real big and genuine. “There he is! Act cool, act cool!” 

“You’re the one freaking out!” you giggled, ducking away with your toast as she batted at you. Turning your head to look over your shoulder in order to see her mystery man, you cocked it with what little neck movement you had left. You didn’t know him, that was for sure. Never seen him before in your life. But something about him was…familiar. 

He greeted you mom with a big smile as well and a smooth kiss to her cheek when she stood up to give him a quick, bashful hug, sneaking in glances at you as she did. “Y/N…this is Joe.”

Not to be taken lightly, you stood up – still shorter than the stranger, but trying to impose your presence by being the first to put your hand out. “Hi, Joe.”

The man looked at you with a glint in his eye that you could have sworn you’d seen somewhere else. The TV? An ad? Who knew, but it was making your eye twitch that you didn’t have an answer. 

“Hello, Y/N – I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” He only grinned at your posturing on him. “My niece and nephew were getting ready in their room when I left, so they should be coming in a few minutes. They’re about your age, I think.” You nodded, still not breaking eye contact with this ‘Joe’ guy. “So that…you know, you won’t have to be stuck in our boring, adult-conversation world.”

Satisfied that you’d at least made him stutter, you smiled sweetly at him. “Right. Taxes and all, huh?” and sat down right as he let out a booming laugh that ended with, “There’s the sleeping beauties! Y/N, my Darling Date,” he said, motioning to your mom, who blushed at the name, “this is my niece, Ronnie, and my nephew, Sam.”

Your head nearly snapped backwards, and your mom moved in to shake their hands – sure enough, it was the beautiful boy who’d snuck out of your room just a few hours before and a girl that shared some of the exact same features that you also picked out on their uncle, and he was grinning like the sun had taken refuge in a puppy dog that had been turned into a human by a fairy or some shit.

While your mom cooed over his sister, you stood up so that you were face to face with Sam. He didn’t take his eyes of yours as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. I’m Sam, and I think Santa finally put me on the nice list this year.”

~~~

Tag list:

@fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy @gretavanfleas @gretavanfleetposts @doodle417 @razorbladekiszka @sammysvanfeet @s-u-t @lallisonl @hayley1623 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @toxbexannouncedx @sammyslappers @alexxavicry @thecoldwind @maedesculpaeusoubi @jordierama @sarakay-gvf

Taglist request form here

[matthewtkachuk]

so excited to share the 12 days of tropemas starting december 12th!

Here it is! We’ve cooked up 12 fics based off of Christmas tropes and songs. We’re super excited to share them with you all. Below the cut are the fics we have planned out and when they will be posted. We will be tagging them as 12 days of tropemas for anyone who doesn’t want to see them! Feel free to message us if you have any questions ❤️ 

authors: @babytkachuks​ and @bricksatlandyswindow​

Keep reading

[digthewriter]

SOULMATES for 12-days-of-tropemas on @merlin-fic-server

[digthewriter]

12-days-of-tropemas strikes again! CUDDLE FOR WARMTH for @merlin-fic-server.

[digthewriter]

“Modern AU” | 12-days-of-tropemas 2021 for @merlin-fic-server

Others so far: 

Soulmates AU

Magic Reveal

Cuddle for Warmth