#At most I just want to make him into a snow globe

[letsbangts]

baby, please come home || jjk

⤷ summary: when he's the only thing you want for Christmas

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.2k+

⟶ genre: fluff, angst (just a sprinkle), married couple au, established relationship au, christmas themed

⟶ content: husband!jk, dad!jk, pregnant!oc, oc is a slightly emotional expecting mother (eight months along), and koo being a deticated expecting father

⟶ warnings: none just some fluff with a dash of angst to make it sentimental because it's the holidays

↬ a/n: this isn't what I thought I would write for this request and I wasn't going to do it so soon but I got inspired & I thought it would make cute drabble so to everyone who reads hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :) angel xoxo

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ christmas (baby please come home) mariah carey 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

The snow is coming down all around you as if encased in a snow globe. You watch it fall around you as it makes its way to add to the thick layer already accumulated on the ground beneath your feet. You walk through the Christmas market, looking at the stalls and decorations. Your eyes glance at the bodies around you: families, friends, lovers — surrounded by many people, except for the one you want beside you the most.

The church bells ring, blending with the happy sounds of the town's excitement buzzing in your ears. You finally make your way to the heart of the town square; the carolers begin singing "Deck The Halls" just as you arrive. The usual holiday cheer you would feel is absent, along with the person who brings that joy.

Your mind takes you back to this day last year and all the fun it held, all the memories made together. Sipping hot chocolate with his arm wrapped around you, the hand-holding with both your hands stuffed in his coat pocket, and your cold lips pressed against each other to warm them with sweet kisses.

As you gaze up at the enormous Christmas tree adorned with pretty lights like those shining all around the town, the loss of the new memories you should be making together this year creates a lump in your throat. He should be here with you, with both of you.

You pull out your phone and tap his contact; the phone rings for a few seconds before Jungkook's face appears on the screen. A bright smile on his face that rivals all the lights around you. His face is so close to the camera that you can't see anything behind him, but the snowflakes in his hair, paired with his red cheeks and nose from the cold— just like yours—show that he is also outside.

You can't help but smile back at him, although it doesn't quite reach your eyes. As much as seeing him brings you happiness, you can't help but feel a touch of melancholy that his presence can only be through the phone.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey, baby. I wanted to show you the tree this year; it keeps getting bigger, I swear."  

You hold the phone out and lower it, trying to fit the whole tree behind you in the screen.

"Whoa, that thing is massive! I'd hate to be the person who had to wrap the lights on it; there must be at least ten thousand on it."

You giggle at Jungkook's remark as you raise the phone to speak to him.

"It's so pretty here, Kook. I wish you could see it in person," you say with a sad smile.

"I doubt it's anywhere near as pretty as you, but I wish I were there too, darling. I tried everything I could to find a flight back in time, but as you can imagine, I wasn't the only one trying to make it back home for the holidays."

"I know, but it's unfair for them to send you away for work so close to Christmas. Then, to extend it even more, it's as if they were plotting to keep you away," you pout.

"It is unfair, and trust me, I pleaded my case to the airline agents to please let me get home to my adorable pregnant wife for Christmas, but it didn't seem to work on them. They're all Grinches, I swear," he tries to lighten the mood and continues, "Speaking of which, how are my two favourite girls doing? Let me see!"

You hold the phone out again to angle the camera to show your eight-month-pregnant belly. You sigh as you rub a hand over it.

"We're good, just missing you. She hasn't been kicking as much; I swear she knows that Daddy isn't here."

"I miss you both too, but I'll be back before you know it, and we can celebrate then."

"But it's Christmas Day; I need you here. It is our first one as a family, and we're not whole without you. I wish there were a way for you to come home, baby," your voice cracks as you look away from the screen, trying to hold back tears.

Jungkook catches a glimpse of your tear-filled eyes gleaming under the lights and sighs. The cold weather allows you to see his breath as it floats in the air.

"Hey, you know I would do anything to be there with both of you."

You catch him glancing up over his phone before he continues.

"Now, don't cry. You look too beautiful standing by the tree, surrounded by all the decorations like a Christmas angel, to feel sad. The old man selling cookies will be offended; he'll think you don't like their smell if he sees you," he smiles to cheer you up.

You wipe your tears and sniffle as you softly laugh. You look around, trying to find said man, until you eventually spot his stall emitting the delicious aroma, selling gingerbread and sugar cookies.

You furrow your brows once everything processes in your head. You look back at Jungkook on the screen.

"Wait, h-how did you know that?"

"I'm quite aware of how beautiful my wife is," he chuckles.

"No, I mean, how did you know there is a cookie stall in front of me, and an old man is running it? You can't even see it. Did the camera flip, and I didn't notice?"

A hand taps your shoulder, and you jolt at the sudden touch before turning around. Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth as you come face to face with Jungkook. Your husband's smiling face is no longer on the screen but right before you, and your hand holding the phone falls to your side. He opens his arms wide for a hug as you stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"But you just—when—how did you get here?" you stutter in shock.

Jungkook laughs, and when he sees you make no move to come into his embrace, he steps forward and pulls you into his arms. You snap out of your daze and immediately wrap your arms around him.

He kisses your forehead. "I told you I would do anything to be here with both of you," he whispers in your hair.

"But there were no flights," you mumble into his chest.

"Yeah, but there were still some bus tickets available. It might have been a much longer journey, but I had to be sure I was here." He pulls back and holds your stomach with both hands as he leans down and kisses it before looking up at you. "There was no way I would miss spending Christmas with my family."

He returns to a stand, and you run your fingers through his hair before your hands settle at the nape of his neck. You gaze into each other's eyes and lean in for a long-awaited kiss.

You break apart just enough to whisper over his lips, "I love you so much. Merry Christmas, Kook."

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, Y/N," he whispers back, lips brushing over yours.

You lean back in for a passionate kiss but are interrupted by a kick to your belly. You both break apart with a gasp.

"Did she just?" Jungkook asks with a smile.

"It seems we're both happy that you came home," you laugh.

Jungkook joins your laughter as he takes your stomach back into his grasp and leans back down, giving it another peck before he whispers, "And I love you, too. Merry Christmas, my little angel." 

↬ a/n: there you go just a little drabble for you all to snack on before mutt pt2 ;)

[wcters]

𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: what christmas looks like with you and lando

warnings: established relationships, sexual innuendos, wanted to give you something for christmas and as an apology for not getting all of the 1k celebration requests out !!! going though a bit of writers block :((( | christmas is almost here !!!! merry christmas and happy holidays if you don’t celebrate christmas🎄 , wanted to get a little something out before the holidays, hope everyone has a good time with friends and family !!!!

- first of all, you take christmas very seriously

- you’re not one of those people who set the tree up super early, you wait till remembrance day or american thanksgiving, but you still plan it out

- you have a planned tree aesthetic for now, when you guys are older and have kids then you’ll let them decorate, but for now it’s you and lando

- if lando isn’t there with you while you set it up, you will get the christmas tree up by yourself ‼️

- #independentwoman

- sooooo many decorations

- like you move some of lando’s mini helmets (sorry) to fit them

- you’ve got snow globes, garlands, mini christmas trees

- all of it 🎄⛸️🎁

- you’ve definitely made one of his mini helmets into a snow globe

- christmas flannel bedsheets and bedset

- binge watching christmas movies 🎥

- complete with charcuterie boards, wine, cookies you made

- LOVE christmas baking ‼️

- if it exists, you make it

- shortbread (my grandad made the best), snickerdoodles, gingerbread, peppermint, sugar cookies, etc

- that mostly consists of you baking and lando helping when you tell him too . . . and eating the batter while you slap his hand away

- you also cook a lot as well

- especially soups, you miss soup season 🥣

- music always coming from the kitchen

- lando just likes to watch you sometimes, other times he’ll start to dance with you

- when his hands start to wander (cause you know they will), you push him away and he gets sad

- MATCHING PYJAMAS

- if you have a pet or something, matching with them as well

- you love gift giving so you love going shopping for things 🛒

- we all know you help lando get gifts for people 🎁

- you spoil mila and athena 🥺

- we all saw the car lando got her BEFORE she was born, you go all out

- go out for any young kids in your family as well

- going out to christmas markets with him, max, and pietra ❄️

- sometimes it’s just you and pietra as the boys are big losers

- soooo many pictures being taken

- some for online, but most are for you to keep ❤️

- skating with each other ⛸️

- though it’s mostly lando holding your hands and helping you balance while you yell ‘lando!’ when you get scared or nervous

- trips to the alps with friends

- over the years you’ve learned to ski and you think you’ve gotten pretty good 😌

- so many nights of you and lando sitting together by the fire, blanket in top of you, max taking pictures because he finds the face lando makes when he’s sleeping hilarious

- you love taking baths, but especially during christmas time 🛁

- you and lando love having baths together after longs days and talk about what you’ve missed

- every soap is christmas themed, dish towels, pillows, you’re serious about this time of year

- each year you switch which persons house you’ll be spending christmas eve at

- you spend time with the others family as well but it switches for christmas eve

- if you decide to spend christmas eve at your house, you have traditions

- KARAOKE 🎤

- making christmas dinner together

- fighting over who makes what

- “i’ll take care of the turkey and stuffing while you take the carrot cake”

- “but i want to do the stuffing!”

- “you always burn it”

- “that is such lies”

- dancing in the kitchen 🕺

- at the end of the night you’re PLASTERED

- best sleep ever, though you are very excited for christmas day

- even more excited if you are spending it with family though ‼️

- you and lando are woken up to mila jumping in your bed and savannah coming in to grab her while apologizing profusely

- you just laugh it off and tell her not to worry while getting up because lando never likes to wake up that early on christmas

- you help make breakfast with sav and cisca while oliver helps when needed though he’s mostly playing with mila and athena with adam 🥺

- one of your favourite images is lando on christmas morning: his hair messy in the best way, the morning glow . . . when he goes to stretch and his stomach and the lining of his underwear show 😉

- you have breakfast first (obviously with some complaints from the kids) but you adults need coffee to get through the morning

- lando eats a lot because he doesn’t have to be on his diet

- after that it’s time for presents !!!!!! 🎁

- for some gifts you coordinate with sav and oliver so they go together

- lando sits on the couch and if you’re not on the ground with the girls you’re with him, back against his chest as you watch with so much love in your eyes

- you do the adults gifts on the side because you all want the attention on the girls

- lando LIVES and lives to spoil you

- he does all year, don’t get me wrong, but at christmas? it’s another level

- he waits till you guys are back at your house or alone when he gives you all the super expensive ones because you KNOW this man spends a ridiculous amount of money on you 💵💵

- you love to see everyone’s faces when they see their presents

- especially cisca and adam’s when they receive their vacation tickets

- spend the day catching up and doing family things

- the girls obviously have a gossip session about what’s been going on 💅

- naps when you both get home

- you are SPENT since you aren’t used to that much energy

- spend the next day together and giving each other the presents you got for each other

- lots of hugs, kisses, smiles, and cheeky jokes

- it’s mostly a lazy day after the last couple of days of getting ready

- just being close and spending time with each other ���️ gives you guys a slow moment in your fast paced lives

- obviously visit max and pietra while you are in the UK

- gift exchanging as you do every year, though it’s mostly you going overboard with gifts for them and their dog 🐕

- again, gossip sesh with pietra filled with drama and wine

- just a great time of year where you get to catch up with friends and family and be together in each other presence ❤️

[doctorcurdlejr]

This is from a longer post I wrote about I saw the tv glow but just posting this bit on its own bc of the conversation around the movie I guess:

The point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in.

[zepskies]

Love Actually - Part 1

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.  

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.” 

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload! 

Part 1: "Humbug"

He was late. 

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late. 

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sank further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm. 

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.  

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.” 

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.  

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—” 

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass. 

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk. 

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform. 

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment. 

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum. 

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head. 

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day. 

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow. 

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits. 

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session. 

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head. 

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn. 

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit. 

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.  

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms. 

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.  

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.” 

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown). 

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow. 

“Excuse me?” he said. 

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.” 

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom. 

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately. 

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie. 

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York. 

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment. 

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that? 

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you. 

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower. 

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and  was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why… 

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table. 

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier. 

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt. 

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate. 

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen. 

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face. 

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand. 

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you. 

“What now?” he groused. 

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest. 

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek. 

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important. 

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV. 

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said. 

You frowned and followed his gaze. 

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment. 

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said. 

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.   

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity. 

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck. 

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm. 

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back. 

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability. 

Then he turned to face the TV screen. 

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?” 

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded. 

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men. 

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.  

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face. 

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face. 

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist. 

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up. 

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband. 

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world. 

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone… 

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa. 

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you. 

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose. 

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either. 

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders. 

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father. 

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th. 

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep. 

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

**Note: There will be two more parts to this due to popular request!

Keep Reading: PART 2

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[mistydeyes]

141 boys and your oddly specific hobby

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summary: Most people have hobbies like drawing or bird watching, however, yours are more unique. Regardless of your odd interests, the 141 still loves you, their quirky significant other!

pairing: 141 x gn!Reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: By popular vote, this won so please enjoy :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Price - matchbook collecting

When you first met Price, it was when you both dipped your hands into the matchbook jar. The jar sat at the host stand of a dive bar and you both happened to go for it at the same time. Although, you two had different motives. Him, because he forgot his lighter, and you, because you wanted to add something else to your collection. He wouldn’t pass up on a pretty face who he presumed also smoked, so he invited you for a light. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were just a collector so you joined him outside.

What started as a quick smoke ended up being two hours of witty conversation. As your pleasantries turned into various topics and ramblings, you were glad you finished the cigar quickly, trying to emulate the mature man’s actions. He vaguely talked about his occupation, a high-ranking military man, and you talked about your non-comparable, boring civilian life. However as the late night hours slowly approached, you wrote your number on his matchbook and thanked him for the cigar and friendly chat.

On your next date, you revealed your odd hobby to Price. “I’ve been collecting them as a child. It’s like collecting snow globes from different destinations but much easier to display and transport,” you said as you both leisurely sipped your drinks. “And to think I thought you were out for a smoke, good thing I left my lighter that day, Love” he replied and gave you a subtle wink. You eventually showed him pictures of your growing collection, recounting where each one was from and showing him some of your favorites.

Soon everywhere he went, Price noticed the unique matchbooks. It started with pocketing a matchbox while he was in Amsterdam and grew slowly. Soon he would start a collection of his own, bringing them home to you with a story of where they each came from. After what seemed like 30 matchbooks in Price's collection, the 141 took notice. “Captain, you some pyromaniac or something,” Soap joked. “Just for my partner, weird collection of there’s” Price responded and no one questioned him further. Although, he still keeps the matchbook that has your number on it in his collection.

Soap - soap making

“You’re never gonna believe me, but I make soap as a side business.” Soap thought it was a joke at first, something to make him laugh when you first met. But when he entered your flat, he was shocked at how honest you were. Your walls were filled with shelves lined with every scent known to man along with hundreds of designed soaps. It smelled like a Lush store when he walked in and he marveled at your creations.

You watched him bask in the glory of the soap for a moment as you laughed heartily. "I told you so," you said as he went about sniffing each one and examining them. You organized them by scent and interrupted him as he approached the floral section. "Having fun there, Johnny?" you asked and he looked up at you as he held one of your rose-scented creations in his hand. "Can't believe this," he said and you smiled as he continued. Eventually, after he had smelt every single bar, you took him into a room where you were working on some new items for your fall collection.

"You have more!" he gasped and went to examine the bars of soap in their molds. "My Autumn collection," you said proudly, "here come smell this one." You led him to a table that housed an orange-hued soap slab with leaves delicately placed throughout the hardened bar. He held the slab in one hand and placed it up to his nose. His eyes lit up as a mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin filled his nostrils. "Smells like a pie," he joked and you showed him various others.

For his return from deployment, you had a surprise. You had spent weeks perfecting this formula and finally were satisfied. As you walked to his flat, you gently tugged on the striped ribbon that tied the parcel together. When he opened the door, he noticed the box in your hands and ushered you in. He excitedly tugged the ribbon off the box and opened it. He gasped when he saw two bars in the colors of the Scottish flag lying on a pile of recycled confetti. "What's this?" he asked and you motioned for him to turn the bars over and smell them. As his calloused hands turned the soft bar over, he noticed the packaging said "The Scotsman." He smiled widely as he placed them both up to his nose, taking in the smells of rain and pine. You swear you could see him tear up when he said, "Reminds me of my own home."

After this, he insisted you mass produce these bars of soap for his friends. You sheepishly did so and when you presented it to the other 141, Gaz loudly remarked, "He's finally done it, Soap is now a bar of soap." 

Gaz - raising butterflies

He had heard about people having pets—even raising chickens but never butterflies. Your house was a sanctuary, filled with small enclosures of cocoons along with various flowers for your butterflies to suck nectar from. When he entered your house, it was like that scene where Alice first sees all the flowers in Wonderland. He felt like a child, seeing all the gorgeous wings floating around the room. He saw a delicately monarch land on a peony and approached it quietly.

"Here hold out your finger like this," you said and showed him how to stand gently and hold out his pointer finger. As he followed your actions, the butterfly gently landed on him. He looked in awe at the insect and you stealthily took a picture of him. The rest of the afternoon, you described to him what flowers butterflies like best and the lengthy process of tending to them before they reached metamorphosis.

Whenever Gaz was on deployment, he would always visit to relax in the butterfly sanctuary. He loved watching as you tended to the flowers and gently fed the butterflies sugar water. Even when he was on a mission, he would be sure to ask about some of his favorite butterflies, even going so far as to name them. "How's my girl, Cressia, doing?" he asked over FaceTime as you walked to find the Great spangled fritillary amongst the zinnias. "Here she is!" you exclaimed and pointed the camera at Cressia, a gorgeous butterfly with golden yellow wings. You could hear someone snicker in the background but Kyle didn't care as he continued to take screenshot after screenshot.

For your first anniversary, Kyle was unfortunately deployed and couldn't celebrate with you. This didn't stop him from showering you with gifts. As you sat in the conservatory, you could hear the doorbell ring. You emerged to find the postman holding two boxes for you, one smaller than the other. You took them inside as you delicately opened up the larger package. Inside, was a note describing the care for 23 painted butterflies along with rows of small cocoons. You smiled as you read the instructions and went to place the new members into their homes. After you got them settled, you opened the small box to reveal a necklace with a small butterfly charm carved from a pearl. A note inside read, "Happy anniversary, now you can carry a butterfly with you anywhere you go."

Ghost - bookbinding

When you first invited Simon over he was quick to notice your many bookshelves all lined with books of the same aesthetic. He knew some of these were Penguin clothbound Classics but was certain they hadn't bound The Hunger Games in their unique cover. As he held The Harry Potter novels and My Year of Rest and Relaxation in his hands, he silently contemplated if he had missed a few years and these were published classics. You came into the library with two glasses and laughed at his bewildered gaze. "You discovered my little hobby, Simon," you joked and offered him a glass. As he sipped on The Paper Plane cocktail, you recounted how you would spend your free time rebinding books that didn't match your aesthetic. "It took me a while but having a matching library like this one is worth it," you said and waved your arm to the rows of books, all with a unifying factor.

As you entered into a long-term relationship, it was clear Simon loved your hobby and indulged in it. Every time he visited, he insisted on bringing you the few books he owned to create Penguin Classic-like covers. From military manuals to a vintage copy of The Art of War, you quickly rebound them and presented him with his new book. He even told you that some of his colleagues had complimented your handiwork. You always blushed in response, citing your eye for design as the cause of all the madness.

Eventually, Simon gifted you with the paperback Penguin Classics. You opened the door to see him carrying a pile of books in his arms. You quickly ushered him to the library where he set them all down on your vintage leather couch. "For the person, that has everything," he said and you went to examine all of the books. He had seemingly bought out the whole collection as you marveled at each of the covers. "Each one of them has an art piece on it," he said and you began to notice the trend. You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek as you held Wuthering Heights in your hand. He quickly snatched it out of your hands before you could even start to rip off the cover. "Keep these, I know you have a theme going on but it doesn't hurt to have some variety," he said and gave you back the book as you stared up at him.

Now whenever someone comes to visit you, they always notice the black-bound books on display. Although they do stick out, you love recounting the story of how your significant other bought you some of the most prized objects in your collection.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 4

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1874

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“Are you excited?” Jake asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. 

You take a sip and let the liquid run down your throat, then pull the cup away from your face to examine it. Your eyes dart from the caramel-colored drink to your roommate and back. He keeps getting it right, and you don’t know how. It’s as if you wrote the exact measurements of the contents of your usual coffee order on a sticky note and slapped it on the fridge so he had no choice but to memorize it. 

“Thank you,” you say. “And, yea…I guess so. It’ll be nice to have a reason to get out every day, but I have a feeling I'll be bored sitting around.” Which you’re perfectly fine with. A job is a job in your mind, and stumbling upon the gift shop across from the beach was convenient for both hirer and hiree. But Jake doesn’t need to know just how unfeeling you are toward your new job. You wouldn’t put it past him to try to unnecessarily cheer you up.

He’s done it a lot. At any hint of distress, you find him beside you. And as someone who finds themself lost in thoughts that allow anxiety or stress or pain to seep onto their face, it means Jake Seresin is often close. Which also means you are constantly at war with what your mind is willing to accept. 

There’s the suspicious part consuming most of your mind, telling you that people—men like Jake, especially—don’t go out of their way. Not for someone like you. But another itty bitty piece of your mind wants to believe Jake truly is this nice and caring. You wouldn’t hate to have that kindness in your life be a permanent fixture. 

Since you moved in you can’t deny that you rise each morning a little less worried about what the day will hit you with. And you know it’s Jake who has fueled that—indirectly, even. He has yet to comment on you or your body or your clothes or what you eat. Neither positively nor negatively. Though you do catch him staring from time to time, whatever he is thinking doesn’t leave his mouth, which is far more restraint than others have shown in the past. 

Jake shoves his hands into his sweatpants pockets and shrugs. “We usually take an hour for lunch. I could always stop by.”

“And do what?” You can’t hold back your snort, nor can you conceal the upturned tick of your lips. Your first smile of the day, light as it is, and Jake’s eyes fix on your mouth until you say, “Are you overdue for a new keychain or cheap beach snow globe?”

“I might be. Those snow globes are great,” he says with a grin, endearingly crooked. “You know, you shake ‘em around; snow goes all over the place.”

“Yes, I’m aware of how they work.”

“Well then you understand why I might want a new one,” he sasses, all but sticking his tongue out like a child.

You hum to hold back your laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’ve started to find him funny in the last few weeks. Something tells you his ego doesn’t need it. Then, with your hand extended you pass him the mug and make your way toward the door to grab your purse off the nearby hook. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for the coffee.”

You are almost out the door, out of his sight and so close to gaining the distance you’ve decided you need from him, when he calls out to you.  “Hey, do you want me to pick you up at the end of your shift?”

The smile you’d finally let free from his earlier joke falls, and you swallow hard, suddenly wishing you’d had the money to keep the rental car you used to get yourself from one state to the next. Though you’ll have hours away from him for the day, and the days to come, Jake coming to get you when you’re likely drained from boredom will instantly ruin the mental fortitude you’re trying to regain. 

You’d never speak it into existence, but your new job benefits you in more ways than one. After coming up short on last month's rent, you’ll finally be able to put a dent in the money you owe him—because you are paying him even though he doesn’t ask for it—but you were also banking on the separation giving you the chance to get your thoughts and pulse under control. 

Anticipation has wormed its way into your daily routine lately. You wake. Wash face. Brush teeth. Dress. Think of Jake. Scold yourself for thinking of Jake. Itch to see him, for reasons you’d rather not focus on. Get pissed for the rapid beating of your heart. 

You don’t need it. Not the unexpected thoughts, not the chaos of your pulse, not the disappointment in yourself for failing to learn from previous experiences. Thinking of him too often will fuck things up and leave you worrying about much more than just Jake or his friends or the odd stranger paralyzing you from a sudden comment or snide remark on how you look. Before you know it, you’ll be digging into the front pocket of your suitcase for the final two notecards and tossing a coin. 

“It’s only a mile-long walk,” you say, praying the unsteadiness of your voice isn’t detectable through the wall segmenting hallway from kitchen.

“So?”

You sigh. Definitely not the answer you wanted. You don’t know how to respond. There’s no excuse on the tip of your tongue, so you settle on, “Have a good day, Jake. Go save the country or something.”

—

You were spot on with that boredom prediction. Hours have passed and you’ve been forced to fill the time with menial tasks that might just be shrinking a few brain cells. Examining every item in the shop, counting every item in the shop, recounting the little squishy sea critter toys after a group of preteen girls lingered too long in that aisle. As someone so used to being on the move, each minute is slowly eating away you. 

With limited options, there are opportunities to let your mind wander and, eventually, you drift into your memories. When the urge to stop them arises, you’re shocked that you kick it back. And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re grabbing a pocket-sized navy-colored notebook and a pen with a plastic seashell for a cap. 

A self-help book you’d skimmed a year prior suggested writing things down to process trauma and grief. The author-slash-therapist didn’t ask for well-detailed memories and feelings, but instead, a quick scribbling of the first things that come to mind. Despite how simple the task seemed, you hadn’t considered it. It seemed silly to relive the pain, to rip open wounds. Even poorly stitched wounds, you won’t deny, that left ragged and raised scars. You’d just been content with no longer bleeding. 

But recently, you’ve neglected a pulling; a string threaded and knotted into your heart with a force trying to tug it free from the confines of your chest. Though you know that would only serve one unenticing purpose, to demand you examine the organ and assess the damage time has worn into it, you don’t reconsider flipping open the cover of the notebook. 

With a free mind, you write down names, places, and towns. You write down words that were thrown at you. You write down the first time someone attacked your most vulnerable parts. And the things said and done that drove you out of one location and onto the next. You write until pages of white are filled with what could only be compared to an insane person's pastime. You write until another customer comes in just as the sun begins to fade. 

You feel her presence before you look up from the notebook in your lap, and when you finally do, you internally flinch at the sight. 

The pin-straight yellow strands of her hair reach a few inches below her shoulders, her lips are coated in bright red, and her eyes are enhanced with heavy dark shadow tones. She is tits shoved together, pushing cleavage out the low V of her camisole, and tight ass filling out tighter, dangerously short, shorts, and tiny waist a man could wrap his hands around and touch fingertips. She’s everything you avoid, and she pays you no mind as she makes her way to the mugs at the back corner of the store before heading for the t-shirts.

It’s obvious she entered with a mission when you find her not one minute later standing in front of you and setting the items on the counter. As you scan and wrap the mug and place it in the bag with the shirt, you don’t miss the similar words written across both cheap gifts. My Boyfriend is a Naval Aviator flows in cursive script over the chest of the shirt. My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator curves with the rounded shape of the mug.

You wonder if that boyfriend is one of Jake’s friends. Rooster does have a girlfriend and you have no way of knowing if this woman is his type. You kind of hope she isn’t. 

“It’s sixteen dollars even,” you mutter. 

She reaches into her cami and pulls out a twenty, slamming it down on the glass countertop that doubles as a display case for the slightly more expensive, yet still cheap, merchandise. The leftover four dollars are then shoved back between her push-up bra and breast. The bag is ripped from your hand and she promptly exits. 

That’s one way to end a first day, you think. At least it was one more thing to do with your time. Annoying kids, a notebook you’re not going to dare touch for a few days, and a woman with underlying anger issues who reminds you too much of your past. You deflate as you realize tomorrow is not likely to end up nearly as eventful.

Closing the shop is, thankfully, a quick process, because you’d like to make it back to the apartment before the moon and stars become your main light source. Walking home in the dark doesn’t suit you but you weren’t about to accept Jake’s offer knowing it likely wouldn’t stop there. First he’ll be picking you up, then it’ll develop into him dropping you off, then you’ll be hanging out with him and his friends every weekend. And then what? What good will any of that do you?

As it turns out, though, you don’t have a choice. 

Once the building door is shut and locked, you turn to find a black truck pulling up beside you. Your heart misses its next beat as fear grips you, but then you recognize the vehicle. The passenger window rolls down to reveal sandy blond hair, then green eyes, then sharp nose, then wide grin.

“You didn’t actually say no,” Jake says. 

Fuck. 

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you step closer, wrap your fingers around the car door handle, and pull. 

---

A/N: ended up having to do something tonight, so this part came a little early. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Part two of this. There may be one more part.

Slight content warning for vague but there child abuse

———————————-

Eddie doesn’t chase after Steve. To say what he does after he sits there blinking as the love of his life, his mate in all but bite, races out of their home would imply some sort of romantic grace. Nothing in what he does is graceful. The Beta bounces off walls, trips over shoes and fights for an agonizingly long time with the door knob. It’s the most nerve wracking thing Eddie has ever done, including but not limited to giving the lich king himself the middle finger before bashing his skull in with the Upside Down version of his warlock. He doesn’t even stop to apologize to Mrs Kendrick, the sweetest neighbor Eddie has ever had, when he nearly flattens her in his mad dash.

He’s not sure if he’s relieved or terrified when he sees that Steve hasn’t left. That this frantic, terrible energy caught in his throat and gut won’t be released on the road. He slips into the passenger seat, whines low and mournful at the smell of sadness, of that broken snow globe smell that is thick as a hot box fog.

“Stevie, baby, sweetheart?”

Steve’s hands are still shaking. Brown eyes clenched closed. Eddie’s done this. Brought Steve to this point. He’s lucky Robin or Erica isn’t here. That Max and Eleven are clear across town. That Lucas and Will and Dustin are gods knows where enjoying the summer.

He reaches out, stops when Steve flinches away from him. Brings back his hand to his lap.

“I’m scared shitless, Stevie. Absolutely fucking terrified.”

Leather seats crinkle.

“That’s why I said what I did. And it’s not because of you. Well some of it is,” he’s trying not to ramble. Twisting his rings and talking. Wayne says that ooen communication is the key to any relationship. Eddie’s never been too good at that outside of sex.

“I had a shitty dad, and I know you had one too. I know you’re so goddamn confident that you can have those six nuggets and not become him. I know you know that loving your kid is unconditional. You do it for eight of them now.”

And it was eight. Because despite Holly managing to avoid the sheer terror that was Vecna round two she still fell into Steve’s orbit. Still wound up wrapping the gentle Alpha that is Steve around her finger. He loves his munchkins so goddamn much and they aren’t even his. It drives the traditionalist stereotypers up a wall and Eddie loves it. He loves how effortless Steve loves.

“But I’m not. He’s always in my head, Steve. When our pups do something, when Henderson says something. He’ll speak up. I think for a moment of the punishments that would have earned me. And I can see myself doing them. See myself turning on you when you try to stop me just like my mom.”

His mother was a mousy, sickly Beta woman that didn’t know what she was getting into marrying his angry Beta father.

“I don’t want to be him.”

Steve tentatively reaches out. Grabs one of Eddie’s hands.

“I’m not you know.”

“What?”

“Confident I won’t be like him. Like my dad. I’m terrified every time I look in the mirror that I’ll be like him. That I’ll be worse.”

He’s brought Eddie’s hand up to his face. He’s nuzzling it in a way that would make Frank Munson absolutely furious.

“I’m scared of so many things, Eds. But you turning out anything like your father isn’t one of them.”

Somehow, Eddie manages to coax Steve out of the car. To agree to calling in sick. It’s not fixed. Not yet. But they’re working on it and that’s what matters.

———————————-

Hoping this works

Tagging:

@xxbottlecapx

Now has a part three

[amethystarachnid]

hi! i hope im not too late but can i request lost holiday spirit for loki x female reader?

maybe it could go something like loki and (avenger) reader both live at the tower and aren’t that close but reader hears about lokis lost holiday spirit and tries to get him to celebrate christmas in really cute ways and they end up together at the end? maybe due to some mistletoe and loki ends up celebrating christmas with the rest of the avengers. thank you!!

MR. GRINCH

⤷ LOKI LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.8k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ After this event is done I was thinking of writing a part two with Loki meeting the rest of her family if y'all want to read it!!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The Avengers Tower sparkles like a snow globe come to life. Twinkling lights are draped over every railing and banister, a giant Christmas tree dominates the common room, and stockings hang above the roaring fireplace, despite its purely decorative function. You flit around like a sugar-fueled elf, adjusting ornaments, humming along to Mariah Carey, and basking in the glow of your favorite time of year.

Your enthusiasm is infectious to most. Tony grumbles about the electricity bill but still orders another dozen boxes of lights. Steve pretends to roll his eyes but secretly joins you for late-night cocoa sessions by the tree. Even Natasha doesn’t protest when you drape a little tinsel around her chair.

Loki, however, is a different story.

The resident God of Mischief is an enigma at the best of times. His presence at the Tower is still a relatively new and tentative arrangement, a diplomatic olive branch between Asgard and Earth. You’re not sure if he’s here to redeem himself, learn from Thor, or just avoid Odin’s wrath. Either way, he’s the ultimate Grinch in your holiday wonderland.

You first notice it when he steps into the kitchen one frosty morning. You’re perched on a stool, munching on gingerbread cookies and debating whether the kitchen needs a wreath (it does). Loki glides in, all dark robes and haughty demeanor, and pauses mid-stride when he spots the garlands you hung around the cabinets.

“What is this excessive display?” he asks, his voice dripping with disdain.

You blink. “Christmas decorations.”

He narrows his eyes as if you’ve just declared your allegiance to an enemy kingdom. “Why?”

“Why?” You repeat, incredulous. “Because it’s Christmas! It’s festive and joyful and magical. Why wouldn’t you want decorations?”

“Because,” he says slowly, as if explaining to a child, “it is frivolous and nonsensical. A mortal invention to distract from the bleakness of winter.”

You gasp, clutching a cookie to your chest as though he’s just insulted your firstborn. “You don’t like Christmas?”

“I don’t dislike it,” he replies coolly. “I am indifferent.”

Indifferent. To Christmas. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not just an opinion—it’s an affront to everything you hold dear.

“Loki,” you say, your tone turning serious. “You can’t live here, surrounded by all this cheer, and not feel even a tiny bit of joy. I won’t allow it.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I was unaware my emotional state required your approval.”

“It does now,” you announce. “Because I’ve just decided that you’re my new project.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smirk. “A project?”

“Yes. I’m going to make you fall in love with Christmas.”

“And how, pray tell, do you intend to accomplish such a feat?” His voice drips with sarcasm, but you detect a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You grin, undeterred. “Oh, you’ll see.”

Day One

The next morning, Loki walks into the living room to find you perched by the stereo, scrolling through your phone. He doesn’t need to ask what you’re doing—Bing Crosby croons “White Christmas” as your grin widens.

“Ah, perfect timing,” you chirp. “I’ve made a Christmas playlist for the Tower, and I’m sure you’re going to love it.”

“Highly unlikely.”

Ignoring him, you press play, and the room fills with the unmistakable harmonies of Wham!’s Last Christmas. Loki sighs loudly, but you’re already dancing around him, singing off-key and attempting to get him to join in.

“You might as well embrace it,” you say. “There’s no escaping Christmas music in December. Resistance is futile.”

“I am not ‘resisting.’” He makes air quotes that somehow look aristocratic. “I simply fail to see the appeal.”

“Come on,” you coax. “Even you must have some fondness for a holiday that inspires such happy tunes.”

Loki regards you as if you’ve sprouted antlers. “My ‘fondness,’ if it exists, is reserved for silence.”

You pout dramatically. “Not even a little head bop?”

He ignores you, sweeping past toward the library. But later, when you catch him humming faintly under his breath—whether to mock you or not—you count it as a small victory.

Day Two

Your next strategy involves decorating the massive tree in the common room. Everyone else is busy, so you commandeer Loki, much to his chagrin.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters, holding a string of lights like it’s a venomous snake.

“You’re tall,” you counter. “And I need help with the top branches.”

With great reluctance, he levitates to reach the higher sections. His magic comes in handy, and despite his complaints, you catch him inspecting the ornaments with genuine curiosity.

“What is the purpose of these trinkets?” he asks, turning a glittery bauble over in his hands.

“They’re not trinkets—they’re memories,” you explain. “See this one?” You point to a slightly crooked star. “Steve made it during his first Christmas in the Tower.”

Loki snorts softly. “It’s hideous.”

“Hey! It has character.”

You work side by side for an hour, and though he pretends to hate every moment, you catch him smirking when you struggle to untangle a particularly stubborn string of lights. By the time the tree is finished, it’s a masterpiece of shimmering ornaments and warm golden lights.

“You did good, Mischief,” you say, nudging his arm. “Admit it—you had fun.”

“I did no such thing,” he replies, but his tone lacks its usual venom.

Day Three

You escalate your efforts with a Christmas movie marathon, complete with a platter of cookies and the richest hot cocoa you can muster. Loki takes one sip and eyes you suspiciously.

“What is this concoction?”

“Hot chocolate,” you say, waving a candy cane for emphasis. “A Christmas essential.”

He takes another cautious sip. Then another. When the cup is empty, you wordlessly slide him a second.

You spend the evening watching Home Alone and Elf. Loki scoffs at the absurdity but doesn’t leave the room. You can’t tell if it’s the cocoa or the ridiculous antics of Will Ferrell that keep him seated, but you’ll take it.

By the time December 5th rolls around, you’re cautiously optimistic. Sure, Loki still rolls his eyes at your caroling and glares at mistletoe like it’s cursed, but there’s a softness in his demeanor. A flicker of something you can’t quite place.

And if he lingers a little longer by the tree at night, bathed in its golden glow, you don’t mention it. Not yet, anyway.

Day Four

You’ve discovered Loki’s Achilles’ heel, and it’s not his ego or his penchant for dramatics. It’s hot cocoa. Rich, creamy, decadent hot cocoa. Since the movie night, he’s been making increasingly frequent appearances in the kitchen whenever you’re whipping up a batch.

Today, you’re prepared.

You’ve set up a veritable hot cocoa bar: steaming milk, bowls of chocolate shavings, marshmallows, whipped cream, and even a jar of crushed peppermint. When Loki strolls in, feigning nonchalance, his gaze lands on the spread and narrows suspiciously.

“What is this?” he asks, though his tone betrays faint curiosity.

“It’s called variety,” you reply, grinning. “I figured if you’re going to keep stealing my cocoa, you might as well have options.”

“Stealing is an exaggeration,” he counters, but he steps closer, eyeing the setup. “What is the purpose of… these?” He gestures at the candy canes like they might attack him.

“Toppings! You can customize your drink.”

You demonstrate by ladling hot cocoa into a mug, adding a mountain of whipped cream, and delicately balancing a candy cane on the rim. Loki watches, his expression unreadable, before taking the ladle himself. He prepares a cup with precise movements, eschewing the whipped cream and opting instead for a sprinkling of chocolate shavings.

He takes a cautious sip. His expression remains stoic, but the way his eyes briefly close in satisfaction doesn’t escape your notice.

“Good, right?” you prod.

He nods minutely, still cradling the mug. You bite back a triumphant grin and lean against the counter, watching him sip the drink like it’s an elixir of the gods. Which, to be fair, it might as well be.

“You know,” you say casually, “you’re starting to get the hang of this Christmas thing.”

He snorts. “Do not mistake my tolerance for enthusiasm.”

But there’s no bite in his words, and you’re certain you’ve won another tiny battle.

Day Five

You decide to escalate your plan with a baking session. After all, what’s Christmas without cookies? Loki is less than thrilled when you inform him of this.

“You expect me to assist you with… baking?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yes,” you reply cheerfully, tossing him an apron. “Think of it as alchemy. But delicious.”

He glares at the apron like it’s made of nettles. “This is beneath me.”

“Oh, come on,” you cajole. “You’ve got magic. Surely you can handle a little dough.”

He grumbles but ties the apron on with a dramatic flourish. The sight of Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, wearing a plaid apron that reads “Santa’s Favorite Helper” is almost enough to make you collapse in laughter, but you wisely keep it to yourself.

The baking session is… an adventure. Loki’s “assistance” involves levitating ingredients and conjuring unnecessary bursts of green light for dramatic effect. At one point, he grows bored and attempts to enchant the cookie dough, resulting in a sentient lump that tries to crawl off the counter.

“Loki!” you shriek, swatting at the rogue dough with a spatula. “This is not what I meant by teamwork!”

He smirks, watching your struggle with barely concealed amusement. “You did say I should use my talents.”

By some miracle, you manage to wrangle the dough back into submission. When the cookies finally emerge from the oven, golden and fragrant, you plop one onto a plate and shove it toward Loki.

“Taste it,” you demand.

He takes a cautious bite, his expression neutral. Then he takes another, slower bite.

“Well?” you press, bouncing on your heels.

“Adequate,” he says, but the way he reaches for a second cookie says otherwise.

Day Seven

It snows overnight, blanketing the city in a layer of white. The morning brings a rare moment of quiet in the Tower. You’re staring out the window, a steaming mug of cocoa in hand, when Loki appears beside you.

“Do you often waste time staring at frozen precipitation?” he asks, though his tone lacks its usual bite.

“It’s beautiful,” you say simply. “Have you ever played in the snow?”

He looks at you like you’ve suggested he jump into the Hudson River. “Play?”

“Yeah. You know, snow angels, snowball fights, building a snowman?”

“You forget that I hail from Jotunheim,” he says dryly. “I am quite familiar with snow.”

“Great,” you say, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the door. “Then you’re already a pro.”

Despite his protests, you manage to drag him outside. The courtyard is pristine, untouched by footsteps, and you can’t resist flopping down to make a snow angel. Loki stands over you, his arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed.

“You’re missing out,” you tell him, brushing snow off your gloves.

“Am I?”

You decide to take matters into your own hands—literally. Scooping up a handful of snow, you pack it into a ball and lob it at him. It hits him square in the chest.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then he looks down at the snow on his robes, then back at you, his expression unreadable.

“You dare?” he says softly.

“I dare,” you reply, grinning.

What follows is an all-out snowball war. Loki cheats, of course, conjuring multiple snowballs at once and launching them with precision. You counter with a combination of speed and sheer determination, laughing so hard your sides ache.

By the time you call a truce, you’re both soaked and breathless. Loki’s hair is damp, and there’s snow clinging to his robes, but his eyes are bright, his lips curved into a genuine smile.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him look truly happy.

Day Ten

You’re sitting by the fire, sipping yet another mug of cocoa, when Loki joins you unprompted. He’s carrying his own mug, which you’re fairly certain he made himself—a small but significant victory.

“You’ve been unusually persistent,” he says, settling into the chair beside you.

“It’s called holiday spirit,” you reply with a grin. “And I’m rubbing off on you. Admit it.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gazes at the twinkling lights on the tree, his expression thoughtful.

“I will admit,” he says slowly, “that there is… a certain charm to this season. Though your methods are insufferable.”

You laugh, raising your mug in a mock toast. “I’ll take it.”

For the first time since you started this endeavor, you feel like you’ve genuinely reached him. And as you sit there, sharing the quiet warmth of the fire, you realize that maybe—just maybe—Loki is starting to believe in the magic of Christmas after all.

Day Eleven

The fireplace mantel remains unfinished—a glaring imperfection in your otherwise flawless Christmas wonderland. You’ve been putting it off, unsure of how to best arrange the garlands, candles, and lights. This morning, however, you find Loki standing in front of it, arms crossed, a contemplative look on his face.

“Are you admiring my handiwork?” you tease, stepping up beside him.

“I’m considering how to fix it,” he replies. “It’s… lopsided.”

You tilt your head, squinting at the decorations. “It’s supposed to look whimsical.”

“It looks haphazard,” he counters, glancing down at you with a faint smirk.

“Fine, Mr. Perfect. Show me how you’d do it.”

What starts as a playful challenge turns into a surprisingly intimate collaboration. Loki’s hands brush against yours as he passes you a strand of lights, his touch sending an unexpected warmth up your arm. He leans close to adjust a garland, his voice low as he critiques your “questionable” taste in ribbon colors.

By the time the mantel is complete, the room feels cozier—not just from the flickering candlelight but from the unspoken connection simmering between you.

“Admit it,” you say softly. “This was fun.”

Loki’s gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary. “Moderately enjoyable,” he murmurs, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

Day Thirteen

You’re perched on a ladder in the common room, attempting to hang a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling beam. The ladder wobbles precariously, and just as you’re about to lose your balance, strong hands grip your waist, steadying you.

“Careful,” Loki chides, his voice unusually gentle.

You glance down at him, your heart racing—not just from the near fall. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t let go immediately, his hands lingering as he helps you down from the ladder. When your feet touch the ground, you realize just how close you are. The mistletoe dangles above you, unnoticed, as you find yourself caught in his intense gaze.

“Traditionally,” Loki says, his voice dropping to a velvet whisper, “there’s a custom associated with this particular plant.”

You swallow hard, your cheeks heating. “Oh, yeah? I hadn’t noticed.”

His lips curve into a sly smile, but he steps back, breaking the moment. “Perhaps next time,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s teasing or serious.

Your pulse remains uneven long after he’s gone.

Day Fifteen

You can’t sleep. The glow of the Christmas tree calls to you, and you find yourself padding into the common room, wrapped in a blanket. To your surprise, Loki is already there, seated on the couch with a book in hand.

“Can’t sleep either?” you ask, settling into the armchair across from him.

He closes the book, regarding you with a softness you’ve come to recognize in these quiet moments. “I find the stillness… agreeable.”

The conversation flows easily, shifting from light banter to deeper topics. He talks about Asgardian winters, and you share memories of childhood Christmases. There’s an openness to him tonight, a vulnerability that makes your chest ache.

At one point, you notice him watching you intently, his gaze tracing your features as if committing them to memory. “What is it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve met,” he says, the honesty in his tone catching you off guard. “Your insistence on joy, your… stubborn optimism. It’s infuriating. And yet…”

“And yet?” you prompt, your heart pounding.

He leans forward slightly, the space between you charged with unspoken possibilities. “And yet, I find myself drawn to it. To you.”

The admission leaves you breathless. You don’t know what to say, so you settle for a soft smile, hoping it conveys everything you’re feeling.

Day Seventeen

A freak snowstorm traps everyone inside the Tower. While most of the team grumbles about canceled plans, you can’t help but see it as an opportunity. You organize a board game marathon, but when Loki declines to participate, you seek him out in his room.

“Too good for Monopoly?” you tease, leaning against the doorframe.

“I prefer my games to involve a certain level of sophistication,” he replies, though there’s no malice in his tone.

“Come on,” you coax. “It’ll be fun.” But when you understand the won't give in you try another tactic, just sto spend time with him. "Teach me chess instead,” you say, pulling a dusty board from a shelf.

The two of you spend hours by the fire, the snowstorm raging outside, as he teaches you the intricacies of the game. His patience surprises you, as does the way he occasionally lets you win, though he denies it every time.

At some point, you realize you’re no longer focused on the game. Instead, you’re studying the way his hair falls over his shoulders, the way his lips curve when he’s explaining a strategy.

“You’re not paying attention,” he accuses, though his tone is amused.

“Sorry,” you murmur, feeling your cheeks heat.

He leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Perhaps I’m more distracting than the game.”

You don’t deny it.

Day Twenty

The Tower is quiet after dinner, most of the team having retreated to their rooms. You and Loki are the last ones in the common room, the tree lights casting soft shadows across his features.

“You’ve done well,” he says, nodding toward the decorations. “This place feels… alive.”

“Thanks to you,” you reply, nudging his shoulder. “You helped more than you’d like to admit.”

“I admit nothing,” he says, though there’s a glimmer of warmth in his eyes.

You fall into a comfortable silence, the air between you heavy with unspoken tension. When he reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, your breath catches. His fingers linger, his gaze dropping to your lips.

For a moment, time seems to stop. You’re certain he’s going to kiss you, and you lean in ever so slightly, your heart pounding. But then—

“Y/N!” Tony’s voice booms from the hallway, shattering the moment.

You both pull back, flustered, as Tony strides into the room, oblivious to what he’s interrupted.

“I swear he has the worst timing,” you mutter after Tony leaves.

Loki smirks, but there’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “Indeed.”

Day Twenty-Four

The Tower hums with a warm energy on Christmas Eve. The team is gathered around the massive tree in the common room, the scent of pine mingling with the aroma of spiced cider and freshly baked cookies. You sit cross-legged on the floor beside Loki, the two of you half-listening as Thor attempts to recount a boisterous Asgardian holiday tradition.

Despite the chaos around you—Steve trying to untangle fairy lights, Clint stealing cookies from the tray, and Tony programming a robotic Santa to distribute presents—you feel grounded. Loki’s presence beside you has a magnetic pull, and you find yourself sneaking glances at him every few moments.

He looks relaxed, a rarity for the God of Mischief. His usual sharp edges seem softer tonight, the flickering glow of the fireplace highlighting his high cheekbones and the glint in his emerald eyes.

“Enjoying yourself?” you ask quietly, leaning slightly toward him.

His lips curve into a faint smirk. “More than I expected.”

The gift exchange begins, the room filling with laughter and playful banter as everyone tears into their wrapping paper. You watch with amusement as Natasha tries not to laugh at the gaudy scarf Clint has given her, and Bruce chuckles at the chemistry-themed mug he receives.

Loki remains apart from the main commotion, though his eyes sparkle with quiet amusement. As the night winds down, the others begin to retreat to their rooms, leaving the two of you alone by the tree.

“You didn’t join the exchange,” you say, turning to him.

“I prefer to give gifts with intention,” he replies, reaching into his pocket.

He produces a small, elegantly wrapped box and hands it to you. “For you.”

Your heart stutters as you carefully undo the ribbon and lift the lid. Inside lies a delicate silver charm bracelet, each charm meticulously chosen: a snowflake, a steaming mug of cocoa, a tiny chess piece, and a star. You recognize each one as a symbol of a moment you’ve shared this month.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, your fingers trembling slightly as you lift it from the box.

“I thought you might appreciate a memento of your… relentless holiday enthusiasm,” Loki says, though his tone is soft, almost vulnerable.

“I love it,” you say, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Thank you.”

You hesitate for a moment, then reach for the small gift bag you’d hidden earlier. “I, uh, got you something too.”

He raises an eyebrow but accepts the bag, pulling out the contents with a curious expression. Inside is a beautifully bound leather journal, embossed with intricate patterns that remind you of Asgardian designs.

“For your thoughts,” you explain, suddenly shy. “Or plans, or whatever it is you write about. I thought you might like it.”

His fingers brush over the cover reverently. “It’s… thoughtful,” he says, his voice unusually gentle.

Before you can reply, a movement above catches your eye. You tilt your head back and groan. “Oh no.”

Loki follows your gaze, his expression shifting into one of amusement as he spots the sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you.

“Ah,” he murmurs, his smirk returning. “The infamous custom.”

You open your mouth to say something witty, but the words evaporate as Loki steps closer, his gaze fixed on yours. The air between you feels charged, and your heart hammers in your chest.

“Wouldn’t want to break tradition,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes.

Before you can second-guess yourself, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, unhurried, and yet it sends a spark through your entire body. His hand finds your cheek, his touch warm against your skin, and you melt into him, forgetting everything else in the world.

When you finally pull back, you’re both breathless. Loki’s hand lingers on your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone.

“Mistletoe,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Convenient,” he replies, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile.

The two of you stand there for a moment, the world around you quiet and still. You glance down at the bracelet on your wrist, then back up at Loki, and you can’t help but think that this is the best Christmas Eve you’ve ever had.

[spacexseven]

Imagine waiting months for that one long holiday, finally youre able to go back home to your family...only to be kidnapped by doa on the day of your departure...how unfortunate

yandere content, kidnapping

manga spoilers about doa + kamui's identity. featuring all 5 doa members. there's a 'route' for each character. unedited, and much longer than i expected.

the least they could have done was be a little gentler going about it.

but of course, you had to suffer through being wrapped up into a coat and tossed into a portal like you were simply a bag of flesh and bone. the humiliation of needing someone to help you in your disorientated state once you tumbled out somewhere else and the nonchalant attitude of your kidnappers only made you more angrier.

any escape attempts didn't get you far; though the windows weren't barred, one look outside the huge ones behind sigma's desk told you all you needed to know—you were suspended mid-air, and it didn't help that there were armed guards constantly surveilling the building, and cameras in every corner. (and, you wouldn't admit it, but your kidnappers really frightened you. they were all ability users, and more importantly, all completely insane).

after multiple failed attempts at sneaking out through the door or hiding between customer's bags, threatening a guard to escort you out and even trying to hijack one of the cars, you decide to change up your methods. maybe instead of running away now, you could try and exploit your kidnappers and leave when they're finally trusting of you...?

CHOICE #1: SIGMA

you don't like any of your kidnappers, but the only one you could stand was sigma, who was probably the most 'normal' out of them. though you mostly came to that conclusion because he had yet to threaten you for trying to run, his lack of an offensive ability, too, was a huge factor in it.

and sigma was...kinder, in a way, easier to dissect and play into the arms of. you didn't have to say anything to keep him from using his ability on you, in fact, he confessed to you that he feared his ability would make you trust him less, and so he held back from touching you altogether. despite it being a non-offensive type ability, if he used it on you, he'd have immediately found out about your plans, so it was for the best.

it's not as hard to pretend to like sigma, because you found him sort of endearing. it's not difficult to let out a few chuckles when he comes running over to you with a book about jokes that nikolai was reading, trying to make you laugh with them. it comes almost naturally when you sit beside him into the late hours of the night, watching him do his managerial duties and study his customers, and you almost forget you're supposed to be using him. it's easier than you'd expect to confide in him your fears of fyodor and the jerk who threw you into his coat, admitting to him that you can't bring it in yourself to be around without being filled with a sense of fear. he reciprocates it all greatly, wrapping an arm around you (and by now, you realize, he doesn't even consider using his ability on you anymore. if there's anything he wants to know, mundane things like what you like to eat and how you like your coffee, he just observes you and finds out himself, or asks you) when you're drowning in your own sorrows, teaching you card tricks in his spare time and bringing you presents that he thought you'd like; little snow globes and records that remind him of you, things of that sort.

you have to remind yourself that your kindness is an act and not genuine. after all, this man was part of the group that brought you here to satisfy their own sick desires. sometimes though, you find yourself hoping that sigma wasn't as bad, that he would understand your feelings.

clearly, he doesn't.

"i can't believe you," his voice comes out as a choked whisper, his eyes fixated on your cornered figure, "you were going to leave?!"

sigma's back was to the door, effectively blocking your escape route. he was trembling all over, clearly overwhelmed and crestfallen by everything that had just taken place. you had tried to sneak away while on a shopping trip with sigma, only the second time that you were allowed to go out, but he had caught on pretty quickly, and now you were trapped.

"let me go," you plead, hoping to appeal to his sympathetic side, "please, sigma."

he shakes his head, still glued to the door, "no. i can't. you can't leave me."

"out of everyone else, i hoped you would understand. i thought you knew how i felt, trapped with dostoevsky."

sigma's eyes widen, confusion clear on his face before he exhales sharply and straightens himself out, seemingly deciding on something, "i'm sorry, [name], but i won't let you go. this is the only way i can have you."

"you're so cruel," he whispers, watching your devastated expression, "why did you make me believe you loved me?"

CHOICE #2: KAMUI

the hooded figure of kamui never failed to invoke a sudden sense of eeriness he made an appearance.

he didn't come by very often, but whenever he did, fukuchi always took a moment to come check up on you. at least when he's not donning his mask and cloak, he looks a lot less...frightening. you're not sure if he has anything to do with your kidnapping, because his interest in you rarely went past a curious glance and the occasional, hearty laugh when he comes across you shrieking at nikolai's attempts to drag you away from the open door.

you're not sure to make of him, with his fake public persona and his involvement with the doa, but he isn't as much of a threat to you as the rest, at least not directly. at the very least, when he comes over, nikolai is so much on edge that he doesn't try to torment you as much as he usually does.

fukuchi regards you as something to serve as entertainment; dostoevsky's newest toy, as you hear him say in passing. he watches you like you're something novel, like he hasn't figured you out yet. since he wasn't as involved as the others inside the casino, you thought he would be your best option to try and exploit.

your attempt at getting to know him starts by offering small greetings.

"captain," you say, waving at him as he walks into your room, where sigma is asleep on your shoulder.

he observes the two of you with an oddly soft look in his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual hardened gaze that stays even with a large smile on his face. then, he nods at you before walking away, gently closing the door behind him.

you try to open up around him more, even if it's not through conversing directly with him. even though you know he's watching you from the corner when nikolai is trying to coax you out of your new hiding spot with little treats, you don't shy away as you usually would. you loudly proclaim to nikolai that you'd only come out when fyodor stops being so mean, which is received with a exuberant laugh from the older man. huh, was that all it would take?

and it works, oddly enough—fukuchi starts asking about you, whenever he sees you after that, in between hushed conversations with fyodor, ("and how are you, [name]? is dostoevsky still being mean to you?" you force yourself to ignore fyodor's pointed glare and instead offer a meek smile). he makes more conversation, and you quickly realize he likes your honest comments, even if it was all just criticizing his subordinates. you think he must find you amusing, like a spiteful pet that doesn't give up an opportunity to attack, especially when he places a large hand on your head to stroke your hair, unexpectedly tender despite his ruthless exterior.

"why do you keep trying to run?" he asks you one day, after nikolai had dropped your bound figure back into the room.

you huff, "what do you mean, why? why would anyone want to stay here? any longer and i might go insane."

"oh? that isn't good," he smiles, but it's not the warm ones he gives you. this was...unnerving, "dostoevsky will have no use for you then."

your eyes light up, immediately considering a new plan to have fyodor throw you out himself, but you're interrupted by fukuchi's low chuckle, a dark gleam in his eyes, "worry not! even if he doesn't want you anymore, i'll gladly keep you. if i had known that dostoevsky had picked up such a curious little thing, i would have taken you before he had...well, what do you say?"

CHOICE #3: BRAM

to be honest, you felt for bram.

in a way, he was living just as miserably as you, locked up in a coffin and taken out only when he's needed, and without most of his body. it must be awfully disorientating to be shaken about by the stake through him, and he's always looked so...unhappy.

you're not sure how much help he could be in your plan to escape, except maybe provide emotional support, but who's to say he wasn't a resentful old vampire who wanted you to stay and suffer with him?

you soon learn, through awkward, stilted conversation and silent periods that bram is...not really as angry or scornful as you thought. he is bitter, and extremely uninterested in most things, but as long as you listen to his stories and provide your wholehearted support, he's surprisingly kind to you.

he doesn't even bother trying to offer any hope of escape, though. he tells you that you, like him, should just go to sleep and wait for the others to decide what they'll do with you. he reminds you that there's no escape from a heavily guarded, heavily surveilled casino suspended in the sky, and there's no escape from dostoevsky's cunning words or kamui's wicked plans. you're stuck here, just like him, left to lament the past.

when you suggest him using his ability on you, hoping that by being turned into a vampire under bram's control, he could find a way for you to escape, he looks horrified by the very thought. ("it's too much work for me now," he remarks, looking visibly irked, "to be turning humans. besides, what kind of foolish plan is that? and right after i informed you that i myself am not aware of the casino's layout.")

at least you have a friend here, even if he's constantly discouraging your escape attempts and convincing you to accept your fate. life would be terribly bleak if you were entirely alone.

CHOICE #4: NIKOLAI

out of the five, you hate nikolai the most.

your increased anger towards him stemmed from him being the one to actually kidnap you, as well as his daily attempts to get you to 'open up', which included him dragging you out of your room and annoying you incessantly until your patience snaps, relishing in your furious expressions. the most infuriating part of it all is that nikolai was never put off by your silent rage or your clear disdain, instead finding it all great fun. he thinks your frustrated words and attempts at hiding away should serve as his entertainment. nikolai laughs when you try to run, and he's always the one that whisks you back into the casino, no matter how far you've gotten. he never stops your escapes, though, almost as though he knows you'll end up back here, like he knows he'll catch up with you in the end.

but he's also unpredictable; for as much as he claims to love his job, he also tells you he hates it, and for every word of praise he has for fyodor and sigma, there are just as many potential murder plots. he's near impossible to read, but you think that maybe, he won't kill you unless you start boring him.

so if your escape served as entertainment for him, wouldn't he be more receptive about helping you?

you start off by seeking some civil conversation with him, but it's not working very well. nikolai tends to send any casual conversation spiraling into...odd directions, half of which you can't understand at all. and you almost start to feel like he doesn't want you to get to know him...still, you've got nothing else to lose now, so you keep it up. you entertain his ideas and go along with his pranks (even if it earns you an exhausted glance from sigma and thinly veiled anger from bram), you read the books he reads and watch the things he does at a mostly useless attempt to figure out his angle, and you even put in more effort in your escape plots, just so he doesn't get bored of you. but it's all in vain, however, because nikolai isn't someone you can just figure out. he's someone you're not sure you can even come close to understanding, let alone manipulating.

in the end, you decide the best approach is being forward with him.

"are you really asking me to make a deal for your life?" nikolai throws his head back in laughter, "this is why i like you! i was worried you were starting to lose your spark."

"i suppose we could come to an agreement" you should have known, really, that nothing good was going to come out of this when you caught sight of the malicious grin on his face and the wicked glint in his uncovered eye, "how about a game?"

"a game?" you don't bother hiding the skepticism in your tone.

"it's very simple! i'll give you an hour to leave the casino. all you have to do is step out of the building entrance, and i'll let you free. in fact, i'll even make sure that none of the others come after you after your victory!"

"but if you fail," his grin widens, "then you'll be leaving your fate in my hands."

the vague threat, combined with his unsettling expression fills you with a overwhelming fear. as if noticing this, he laughs. but now that you've put the idea in his head, you're not sure if he'll ever let it go.

"don't worry! either way, i'm sure we'll be having lots of fun!"

CHOICE #5: FYODOR

something was terribly off with the way fyodor looked at you.

despite the gentle smile on his face and the lovely way he said your name, all soft and gentle, there was an oddly distant look in his eyes. he observed you closely and made conversation—revolving around surprisingly mundane questions like have you read this book and what do you think of this movie, and are you familiar with this dish and this composer? and his tone is curious, a charming turn of his lips accompanying his careful probing, making for quite the lovely picture. but there was something meticulously crafted about it, almost like his words were practised and his reactions stilted. there was nothing genuine about the fond smiles or the barely-there touches. you wondered if perhaps, he was waiting for you to do something.

but you have to admit, you'll take the dread creeping over your shoulder over the blatant terror you're faced with when you talk to kamui, or nikolai. apart from his unsettling exterior, fyodor makes for decent company. he's quiet, but not the awkward silence that envelopes you when sigma runs out of things to say, and his questions never feel too invasive. he has a certain charm about him, you think, that makes him somewhat likeable, despite you knowing that he actively plays a part in whatever evil the doa performed.

these days, you spend more time with him. you find that the books he gives you are interesting, although not your usual taste, and that you look forward to seeing what he would lend you next. and the more you're around him, the more curious you get. why was he so...detached from you? why did he feel so disinterested despite being the one to initiate conversation? you try to listen for any indication of interest, and you think you find a trace when sigma tells him about preparations being complete, or when nikolai brings in some papers. later, you hear the same change in tone when you ask him why you've been brought here.

"why?" he smiles at you, and it's as beautiful as it is frightening, "i thought you may be of use to me."

"am i? all i do is sit around and...wait for something to happen."

"patience, [name]. i'm sure you'll figure it out on your own, you're quite smart, aren't you?" though his smile is still on his face, the hint of condescension in his tone doesn't escape you. you don't expect anything else from him, anyway.

one day, after you manage to evade nikolai long enough to sneak off to the lobby of the casino, fyodor stops by your crouched figure in a corner, still upset after nikolai's threats.

the ever present smile is still there, "caught again?"

you sigh, and look away.

then, he leans in closer, until his cold lips brush against the tip of your ear, "you might want to try the staff exit next time, or explore for other exits. there are many ways to come in and out the casino." you shiver, but his words spark a new flame of resolve in you. you've never seen fyodor come in through the main entrance, and he leaves quite often. if you insisted on seeing him out next time, you might have a better chance at escaping...

he doesn't look the slightest bit surprised when you walk with him as he's leaving a few days after, only glancing at you as he slipped on his coat. sigma frowns at you from the corner of the room, but noticing fyodor beside you, he goes back to his papers immediately. it must be nice having such an effect on people.

he's silent throughout most the walk, but right before he leaves through a door you've never noticed before, fyodor spares a few words to you.

"stay back a while and explore the building. not too long—someone will worry—but you should be able to find something helpful."

how strange it is that you found an ally in fyodor, out of everyone else. a part of you is convinced he must be playing a cruel trick on you, but you're willing to take any chances that you can find. when you're back for breakfast, you're grinning to yourself as you recount the two exists you've found, one hidden below a winding staircase, and the other at the opposite side of where the five gather with you. both representing hope that you can make it out.

both ways were failures. nikolai's grip around your wrists is painful as he guides you back to your room, goading you by belittling your attempts. fyodor is already waiting there, skimming through your current read, lingering on the pages where you've scribbled down your thoughts (the idea courtesy of fyodor). he puts down the book to look at you as you're embarrassingly being ushered back to your cell. at least nikolai leaves after sharing a few words with the other man—the humiliation of him having to hear how you'd been mislead would have been too much to bear.

your weak glare does nothing to perturb him, "you knew it wouldn't work, right?"

"nikolai is very determined when it concerns keeping you," he says, "perhaps you underestimated him."

"i thought you were going to help me leave," you groan, "i'm so stupid."

"now, my dear," fyodor's amused smile sends shivers down your spine, "why would i ever do that? were you not aware that it was me who asked for nikolai to bring you here?"

"but you told me about the other exists—"

"only to keep you busy," he interrupts, "so you wouldn't do something rash in a desperate attempt to leave."

"i thought you didn't want me...like how they do." because fyodor has never shown interest in you, not like nikolai's constant need to be around you, or sigma's shy way of sitting next to you when he's off work, but perhaps it meant something different, because it was him.

"no," he says, "i don't need to want you like they do, because you are already mine," he leans in closer, a hand on your cheek, "you are mine before you are any of theirs, and you'll do well not to forget that."

[rubyroulette]

GUYS I CAN'T DRAW BUT I NEED SOMEONE WHO'S GOOD AT ART TO HELP ME

I HAD A SILLY IDEA

Okay so I made this doodle to explain my silly little idea. Idk if something like it has already been done but I think it'd be really cool!

So basically a watcher would be holding a snow globe that has monopoly mountain in it, just kind of examining it. I didn't draw it here, but it would be the scene where Grian is about to jump. The cactus ring and scar laying down would most likely be visible, but Grian would be the main subject.

Since he's a watcher himself, instead of looking down about to jump he would be looking up at the big watcher kind of angrily. You know, for throwing all his friends into the games and making him kill Scar.

I don't have a cool watcher design so I just drew a poorly-made hooded guy with a bunch of eyes. (Yes I know their hand is in the wrong place I wanted Grian to be visible).

SOMEONE PLEASE DRAW IT CUZ I FEEL LIKE IT'D BE COOL

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, quinn hughes

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you you can feel it on the way home, way home, you you can see it with the lights out, lights out you are in love, true love you are in love

one step, not much but it said enough you kiss on sidewalks you fight and you talk one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love

you two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

♡ ─ word count | 3.5k

♡ ─ summary | 3 times that quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the 1 time he finally did.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when are my works ever lol), mention of comparison between jack/quinn, exhaustion, slight angst??? but mostly tooth-rotting fluff, quinn overthinking, idk maybe there are more but nothing major LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | tbd!! check link in navigation if you are interested

♡ ─ ev's notes | this took WAY too long to write and lowkey not very proud of it, but i wanted to get it out before i start writing my fics for my 100 follower celly. i love quinny so much, he deserves the world and i hope this fic does him justice LMAO. ALSO THIS SONG MAKES ME FEEL SO FREAKING SICK, ITS SO GOOD. also now im noticing a theme on my page, only writing fics inspired by taylor songs, i need to switch it tf up. anyways, enjoy this slightly longer quinn fic & lmk your thoughts in the comments/reblogs. have a great day!

Quinn had never been the type to fawn over anyone ─ especially a girl.

In his 23 years of living, he can't remember a time where he was getting all excited and giddy over the mere thought of anyone. All he could ever remember was just focusing on family, hockey, friends.

Sure, there were flings ─ there were always flings but it would never end in anything more than that. It was just a fling. Sure, sometimes he would want something more but most of the times, the girls thought they were just getting themselves into a one-night stand. Two nights (never in a row) if they were lucky. But that was it.

Even if Quinn wanted a relationship (he doesn't, he would swear), he didn't have time for it. Family, hockey, friends ─ that was it. That's all he wanted.

Of course, that was all thrown out the window when he had met you.

Well, not initially. Quinn wasn't the 'love at first type' kinda guy and neither were you. Your first meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a casual meeting at a friend's gathering, a few exchanged pleasantries, and nothing more.

Yet, something about you stuck with him. It was your sweet smile, maybe, or the way your eyes just looked kind and they would light up when you were asked about your job, or your family. Quinn couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but at some point, he found himself thinking about you when he should have been focused on his next game or practice.

His friends noticed the change in him. His younger brothers had noticed the small change and would tease him. "Hey, Q, what's up with you? You've been awfully distracted lately," Quinn could just imagine the stupid grin etched on Jack's face as he spoke those words.

Quinn, normally quick with a witty retort, found himself at a loss for words. He knew he was in new territory; he had never, ever in his life been overthinking about a girl. For the first time, hockey or family or friends weren't the only thing on his mind.

As days turned into weeks, Quinn's feelings grew stronger. He'd catch himself daydreaming about you during team meetings or staring at his phone, waiting for your texts back. He would go look at your instagram multiple times a day, waiting for a new post to go up just so he could see that pretty smile of yours but somehow, he was never satisfied with just that. For once in his whole life, he had wanted to actually get to know a girl based on one meeting and a couple of texts. It was maddening, this feeling of being drawn towards someone in a way he had never experienced before.

He also couldn't ask any of his buddies for advice because all he'd get was teasing so he had to keep it to himself, which somehow made this entire situation so much worse.

Then finally, there was that one night. You were both at another gathering, the same friends, the same laughter, but this time something shifted. You shared a small inside joke, a quick glance, and Quinn felt his heart race in a way that no slapshot or overtime goal had ever made it race before. He felt a surge of contradictory emotions during that one-second moment, a mix of anxiety and excitement that overwhelmed him. It was a sensation so intense that he wanted to vomit, yet strangely, it was different from the kind of feelings he had experienced before ─ it was not because of hockey, it was a girl. No, you weren't just a girl to him anymore, he realized. You were much more than that to him now.

As he drove home that night, he couldn't deny it anymore. He was falling for you, and it terrified him. Love was a complicated thing, one he had always sworn to avoid, but now he was caught in it's tight grasp all because of you.

The following days were a whirlwind of emotions. Quinn, who had always been the composed defenseman on the ice, found himself stumbling over words and second-guessing every move he made when it came to you. He couldn't concentrate during practice, and his teammates couldn't understand what had gotten into him and if he was being honest, neither did he.

But one thing was clear - Quinn Hughes was in love, and he didn't know how to handle it. He realized that his carefully constructed world of family, hockey, and friends had been upended by the presence of one person ─ you.

And so, this journey begins - three times Quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the one time he finally did.

──

ONE

──

After what seemed like the longest practice of his entire life, Quinn trudged back to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. The weight of expectations from his teammates and fans pressed on his shoulders. Today wasn't his day; his passes were off, shots missed the mark, and he stumbled more than once during drills. Even coach had given him some constructive criticism, which usually wouldn't have bothered him, but today it felt like salt in the wound.

As he entered his home, he was ready to collapse onto the couch and shut out the world. As he collapsed on his soft couch, he groaned out in pain, the soreness in his muscles somehow hurt more than usual. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, until he heard the familiar buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his shorts. He cursed under his breath and pulled it out but all the anger seemed to slowly dissipate as he saw your name and contact picture spayed out on the screen.

Then he remembered. Tonight was supposed to be date night for the both of you. He cursed again before answering the phone, sitting upright on the couch.

"Hey," he answered breathlessly, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Hey, Quinn I'm outside─you okay?" You say through the phone but before he could answer, you continued. "Shit, sorry Quinn is this a bad time? I know you just had practice and probably tired, I should've texted but you know, I was so excited─"

"No, no, no. Come up, I'm fine I'm not tired." He was lying and you both knew it, but you sighed through the speaker. "Please, come up. I want you here."

"Okay... promise?"

"Promise, Y/N." He said your name so softly, it made your heart flutter and you couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. I'll be up in two secs," You said. "Bye."

The phone call ended and Quinn exhaled. He was tired, sure ─ but he was excited to see you. Even the sound of your voice made him relax so it wasn't even that much of hassle having a date night. If anything, he was sure, you'd make him feel better.

He quickly changed his clothes and he heard the doorbell ring. Quinn opened the door with a tired smile ─ it slowly spread as he saw your pretty smile. He felt his heart speed up as you slowly examined him, and that smile slowly dropped.

"Quinn..." You whispered, a small frown on your face. His disheveled appearance made you slightly sad.

You both made eye contact for a few seconds before you sighed and walked in, your arms wide open. You embraced him warmly, putting your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him softly.

As your arms enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace, Quinn felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Your presence had a way of soothing his mind. The subtle scent of your floral shampoo, the softness of your warm touch, it all wrapped around him pleasantly.

He closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the tenderness of the moment. Your fingers traced gentle circles on his back, and it was as if you were silently reassuring him that it was okay to have bad days because you'd be there to catch him.

You pulled away, your eyes met again, and he saw genuine concern in your gaze. That alone was enough to make his heart skip multiple beats. Quinn couldn't quite put it into words, being around you was like like returning to the warm embrace of home.

He wanted to utter those three special words as he met your gaze, your kind eyes but the words slowly died on his tongue as you continued talking, taking his hand in yours.

"Let's go eat some ice cream and watch Top Gun." You smiled, knowingly.

He laughed softly and nodded, squeezing your hand. "Sounds like a plan."

──

TWO

──

The moon cast a soft glow through the white curtains as you and Quinn sat together in his dimly lit living room in comfortable silence. The day had been long, filled with its usual chaos and pressures, but now, the world was still. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional car passing by.

With a sigh, Quinn leaned back into the couch, his exhaustion evident in expression. You watched him closely, sensing the weight of the day on his shoulders. Your relationship had grown stronger over the span of a couple months and you had become his confidante, the one he turned to when he needed to escape from the demands of the team and fans.

Practice had been harder than usual and somehow, on top of all of that, the media had initiated a new trend of drawing comparisons between him and Jack, which made his mood worse.

You knew that; watching Quinn get slowly demotivated by the comments made by those nobodies, it hurt your heart. Breaking the silence, you softly asked, "Quinn, how are you really holding up?"

He looked at you, his gaze wavering at your soft eyes. There was something about the way you looked at him, a warmth and understanding that he had rarely found in anyone else. It was as if you could see right through him, past the tough exterior he often wore.

For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He almost gave you the media-trained answer but then, he realized that with you. "Not sure, if I'm being honest."

"That's fine, Quinn." You answered softly, "you don't have to know. But what I do what you to know is that you're not Jack. You're not Luke, or Trevor, or anyone else. You're you and that's enough."

That simple answer made him halt all his thoughts. He felt his shoulders slowly drop, letting out a loud exhale. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

With empathy in your eyes, you couldn't help but feel the toll it was taking on him. The Quinn you saw now, weary and vulnerable, was a side he rarely showed to anyone.

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke about the comments that everyone had been making on the media. "It's just... they don't understand, Y/N. They don't see the hours of practice, the sacrifices, the love I have for this game. All they see is Jack's brother, or one of the Hughes brothers."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, comfortingly. "Quinn, I see you. I see the hard work, the dedication, and the love you have for hockey. And I believe in you. You might be just Jack's brother or just another Hughes to them, but that doesn't matter to me. I see Quinn and you know what, that's enough. And if it isn't enough for them, then fuck them."

His eyes met yours, and there was a vulnerability in that eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, Quinn realized that he was sharing not just his struggles, but his true self with you. It was a level of trust and intimacy he hadn't experienced with any girl before.

The silence that followed was a comforting one, filled with unspoken understanding. It was as if you were his anchor in the storm, a source of encouragement and warmth. Quinn couldn't help but think that he was lucky to have you by his side, someone who saw him for who he truly was, beyond just hockey player or another Hughes brother, beyond the expectations.

As he held your kind gaze, Quinn couldn't help but think that he wanted to say something more, something that would convey the true depth of his feelings. But for now, he settled for a heartfelt confession: "You're my best friend."

──

THREE

──

The frenetic buzz of the post-game celebrations following a thrilling overtime victory against the Toronto Maple Leafs, Quinn found himself into another arena, one of bright lights and microphones. His heart still raced from the intensity of the game, but now, he had to face the media. The sweat dripped from his forehead, his heart was still beating from the intensity of the adrenaline in his system.

The victory had been hard-fought, Quinn playing a pivotal role in securing it. The puck on his stick, he executed great moves, the slide of the ice beneath his skates, the thud of the puck hitting the net, the eruption of cheers all merging into a thrilling crescendo of sensations made his head buzz with excitement.

The reporters, with cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, surrounded him like a hungry vultures. They fired questions, one after another, probing for insights into the game-changing play that had secured the win for the Vancouver Canucks.

"Quinn, that last-minute save in overtime was incredible! Can you walk us through what was going on in your mind?"

"Quinn, there's been a lot of buzz with your brother, Jack Hughes. How does it feel to outshine him tonight?"

"You've been compared to some of the greats tonight. How do you handle the pressure of those comparisons?"

"Quinn, your family's here tonight, right? How does their support affect your game?"

"Quinn, fans are calling this one of the best games of your career. Do you think this win is the turning point for the Canucks this season?"

The questions all blurred in his head, the bright lights straining his eyes. Quinn, used to these post-game interviews, felt a distinct unease tonight even after such a big win. The questions were sharp and the scrutiny was intense. In the midst of this media frenzy, he sought solace in the one thing that always brought him strength: you.

He remembers seeing you in the stands before the game and his mind kept replaying those few seconds where you shared a big grin as you both made eye contact.

Amidst the crowd of reporters, he spotted you, your presence radiating pride and warmth. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the arena. You gave him a big thumbs up with a big grin, knowing how anxiety inducing those post-game interviews could be. Quinn longed to speak the words that danced at the tip of his tongue but he knew he had to navigate this sea of questions first.

──

This week had to be the longest of Quinn's life. The 3 hour, 5 am pre-season practices had been so tiring, he felt the life get sucked out of him after every exhausting practice. There was one thing he had been looking forward to and that was your date night. Even though he knew that he would have do this week over again practically the next week, he was okay with it knowing that he would be able to spend some time with you over the weekends.

As Friday night finally arrived, Quinn couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. The thought of spending time with you, of being himself without the pressures of anyone else, filled him with a sense of comfort.

He had suggested a new restaurant downtown, a place neither of you had been before. As you both entered the restaurant, the soft piano ambience and the chatter created the perfect atmosphere. Quinn couldn't help but steal a few glances at you, admiring your beauty and the easy way you fit into his world.

You had worn your hair back in a low bun, showing off your sweet collarbone, a pretty necklace that Quinn had bought for you on a trip hanging off it. It was a silver color and the jewel a beautiful deep blue color that brought out your angelic eyes. Quinn couldn't help but stare and you felt your face burn with heat as you caught his loving gaze.

"What, is there something on my face?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no. You just look beautiful, like always. I like that necklace, wonder who bought it for you."

You giggled in response, feeling slightly giddy. You couldn't even lie, Quinn had you in a trance. You were head over heels. "Yeah, I wonder who."

The rest of the night was spent like this ─ sweet and teasing, it all felt right. Everything just felt right, it was if the last week hadn't happened. Every problem just slowly faded every time either of you spent time together, no matter how big or small it was.

After dinner, you decided to take a walk out in town. The summer air was unusually cool, the lights of the city perfectly setting the atmosphere for the night.

Quinn held your hand, your softer and smaller hand fitting his like a glove. You both walked through the town, talking and laughing like you two were the only people in the world.

As you both passed a bar, your ears filled with the familiar tune of your favorite song. You immediately stopped and looked at Quinn knowingly. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's playing!"

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Wanna go in?"

You ignored his question and started lip syncing the lyrics to him, playfully. He started laughing even louder, letting his head fall back. You had started laughing, too ─ then, you took his hand in yours and started dancing.

If it this was anyone else, Quinn would've been slightly embarrassed but as he saw your eyes sparkling and your wide small, he truly couldn't feel anything but love. He had a smile on his face as he grabbed you and pulled you closer, dancing happily with you.

As the song ended, another started playing. 'You are in love' by Taylor Swift had started playing and Quinn almost let out a laugh at the coincidence. You looked back at him, a deep blush gracing on your face. He took your hand again and pulled you closer, and you put you put arms around his broad shoulders.

You both looked into each other's eyes and he took account of how beautiful you looked in this moment ─ you always looked beautiful, no matter when or where or to who, it was just a fact. But you looked more than just physically beautiful, everything about you was perfect, your flaws, your smile, just everything.

And that was when Quinn really knew, in his bones that you were the one for him.

"What?" You whispered, as you saw Quinn's expression changed slowly. He loved that too ─ how empathetic you were, how in sync you both were. You always knew what he was feeling.

You asked, but you knew what the answer was.

"I think ─ no..." His words died on his tongue as your expression changed too. "I know it. I love you."

It didn't feel like a big confession. It didn't feel how everyone described it to be, it just felt like a normal statement. You both had thought it before, multiple times ─ so saying it out loud wasn't a big confession to either of you.

He loved that, he was so used to everything being so big and grand, he wanted it simple. He loved that and he loved you.

You could see it in his eyes, too. His eyes were softened as he gazed at you, like he always looked at you. But this time, you acknowledged it more. He loved you. Quinn loved you. As you gazed into his brown eyes, your heart swelled with a deep sense of connection. You had known, just like he did, that this feeling existed between you. It wasn't born out of big gestures or dramatic confessions; instead, it had quietly grown, nourished by the everyday moments you shared.

As the song ended softly, you let out a breath you didn't know you were even holding. "Yeah. I know I love you, too."

His smile got impossibly bigger and then, he leaned in and gave you the biggest of kisses ─ the dramatic ones, too. He had your face in his hand, the other one holding on your waist and you pulled him closer with your hands.

You felt his mouth smirk as you both sloppily made out. You laughed into the kiss but neither of you pulled away. Neither of you liked PDA but this time, it felt right.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[born-to-lose-writing]

How Christmas Is Supposed to Be

Pairing: old!Slash x reader

Requested by @being-worthy

Summary: When Slash finds out Christmas used to be your favorite holiday until it became just another day, he goes all out to make your first Christmas together special.

Tags: fluff, Christmas

Words: 923

A/N: Two years after it was requested, I finally wrote it 🙏🏻 I was planning to write more Christmas fics this time, but I'm so happy I finished this at least

Tag list: @warriorteam1924 @slashscowboyboots @losers-yurio @lost-in-the-80s @jennyggggrrr @tuffduff @jonesyownsmyheart @smells-like-perfect-senses @whered0wego @rumoured-whispers @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @gloomy-blonde @cherry-jams (let me know if you want to be taken off the list)

For once before the holidays, you had a weekend with a chance to relax, so you and Slash decided to look through some old photo albums. If you weren't going to celebrate Christmas as much as Slash used to when his children were younger, you were still going to experience some nostalgia.

You were familiar with many of Slash's photos starting from his late teenage years, partially because you had seen them back when all he was to you was one of the best guitarists around and not your boyfriend, partially because he had shown them to you before.

Still, there were quite a few that were new to you, such as the ones in his childhood albums. Obviously, there were pictures together with some celebrities his mother had been friends or worked with, and while you were a little jealous he had gotten to meet so many icons as a kid, what caught your attention even more were his baby photos.

“Aww,” you cooed, pouting and pointing at an especially adorable photo of him at the tender age of 10 months. “You were so cute! What happened?”

He knew you were only teasing him and laughed. “58 years passing, that's what happened. You don't find me cute anymore?” he feigned hurt.

“I’d say you're sexy now,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the jaw. “But still cute.”

You pinched his cheek before returning to the photo album on your lap, turning the page to some more baby pictures of him. It was truly heartwarming.

In the meantime, Slash picked up one of your photo albums. He laid the one on top to the side when he read the words 'Christmas Part 1’ on the next album and ‘Christmas Part 2’ written on the cover underneath.

“You really loved Christmas, huh?” Slash smirked, opening the first one to see a picture of you as a toddler sitting under an icy blue and silver decorated tree. You were having a present in front of you, looking up at the camera as if you had been interrupted while tearing open the wrapping.

“Yeah,” you admitted, a melancholic smile on your face as you looked at the pictures together. “It was the thing I looked forward to the most as a kid, but over time it became just another day, you know? When I started studying and working, things got more stressful and I couldn't get into the Christmas spirit anymore.”

Slash wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I’ll help you get in the holiday mood again, that's a promise.”

As usual, he kept his promise and when you came home from a long day of work on Monday, the wreath on the front door was the first hint at what you could expect inside.

You opened the door and spotted fairy lights along the door frames, green and red garlands leading up the railings of the staircase, candle arches in the windows, a life-sized nutcracker next to the backyard door, a snow globe on the coffee table in the entrance hall, mistletoe above every door and many more decorations you had almost forgotten about but reminded you of what your family used to put up years ago.

As you set foot in the living room, the scent of pine filled the air before you could even see the tree itself, bringing back memories from when you had gotten home from school and immediately felt cheered up by the scent of Christmas, no matter how your day had been. It was large and almost reached the ceiling, though just short enough to put a tree topper on, but it was not yet decorated.

Suddenly, Slash appeared from behind the tree, grinning when he saw you. “Oh, hello! Do you want to help me? I just bought some decorations, I hope you like them.”

You walked over to him and saw the boxes of ornaments, candles and tinsel on the floor. You genuinely liked them, but even if they hadn't been your style, you would have loved them for his effort alone.

“I went a bit overboard as you probably noticed already,” he chuckled. “And there’s still more waiting to be put up in the next couple of days. I got colored fairy lights for outside the house too.”

Smiling, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Slash said and kissed you. “I thought I'd leave some for you because having other people decorate everything is boring.”

You nodded and took a bauble out of the bubble wrap, hanging it on a branch. Then, Slash joined in but took enough time to let you choose the placements of most ornaments, which you appreciated. He had already succeeded in getting you into the Christmas mood when you had come home to a fully decorated house, but it only now started to feel like the holidays you had loved so much when you had been younger. It felt simply magical, the only thing missing was baking gingerbread—and being lifted up to put the last piece on top.

Slash seemed to read your mind as once you were finished with the ornaments and the tinsel, he handed you the big gold angel and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you high enough to place it on top of the tree. When he put you back down, he spun you around once, making you giggle. “Let’s put on some Christmas music, shall we?”

[boskadoff]

uh so Fiddleford is canonically likes men? And I guess Ford confirmed aro/ace hhksdkskdk

ok guys i- you-

I dont- post anything but the demons came back and they came back hard AhhHh

Why you making me write this why nobody else reporting this strong cannon

BoB confirmed two sexualities: Ford is aromantic and asexual, and Fiddleford likes men.

Lets start with Ford, cause its shorter:

BoB basically reiterated and highlighted that Ford is attracted to nothing.

Its actually very clearly pinpointed that Ford is aromantic/asexual. Why clearly? Like Alex chose, out of ALL the things to reveal about ford in Bills mind invasion section, is that he is "plansexual". He basically is indirectly says Ford feels no attraction. He is aromantic/asexual. Coupled with journal 3 entries "romance baffles me", and its confirmed.

Now Fiddleford, this is very interesting because it affects the story:

One, it clearifies why Fiddleford agreed to help with the portal. Bro just was GAY.

To extrapolate, he was from an area that expects traditional marriage Tennessee. He went through with it, probably wasn't super comfortable though seeing by how eagerly Fiddleford accepted Fords offer. So, integrating this new cannon, bro just always was gay for Ford and couldn't resist the opportunity to spend time with him.

Now lets gather all harder Book of Bill evidence

Bro knitted him gloves with many DRAFTS. (Shows how important it was to him to get it right)

Bro made him a snow globe of his lab.

Notice how it was HAND MADE.

He gave Emma-May nothing? He had time, he could have not made Ford two things, made one with for Ford and one thing for Emma-May. But he didn't?

The snowmen? And a whole picture of it??

Bill refers to Fiddleford as a third wheel.

They were roomates, obviously on very goods terms

"Try to forget"

"TheY emBraCed"

It was a very strong concentration on, and even mentioned in the same story, the gifts that Fiddleford gave. Notice how Alex SPECIFICALLY said Emma-Mays argument woth him was because Fiddleford gave her nothing. Which basically contrasts insanely with TWO HANDMADE gifts for Ford.

Lets couple with Journal 3 soft evidence where

His computer password was "Stanford"

The singular bed in the bunker.

Fiddleford knew when Stanford was possessed, shows how attentive he is.

He wrote up Fords research for him to publish.

Bro left his family for a while to spend time with Ford in isolation.

Disney decided to edit the phrase when Stanford says "happy to no longer be traveling this path alone" to " …happy to be traveling it with a friend". Basically showing the book was aware how gay these two sound.

Im note sure if Ford ever recipricated these feelings, he probably thought of Fiddleford as a very good friend, at most subconsciously some kind of QPR.

But BOY did Fiddleford fall for him.

In terms of why this might have been added to BoB:

I believe Alex saw how strongly Journal 3 implied Fiddauthor, (I watched too many interviews, and there were questions about those two, so it WAS on his mind) and just decided to finally clarify their bond. He eluded direct statements, but obviously made a call.

He may have also found the need to clearify why Fiddleford was so eager to jump in and help Ford for so many months, it is kind of murky evidence to say he just wanted to help out and leave his family for months for the heck of it while his son was still young. (Also in Twitter a long time ago, also kind of accepted that one jelous girlfriend meme of Bill Ford and Fiddleford where overlaid)

Moreover, the Alex didn't have to mention Fiddleford in the Book of Bill, all loose ends of his story were tied in Journal 3. Book of Bill was only supposed to be about Bills story, and clearification about his relation with Stanford. But he added Fiddleford anyway. And not only did he, but he chose to incorporate it in the Christmas scene: a very specific, often intimate time. This did not need to be included for any lore reason on than their relationship. It literally serves ZERO major purpose other than to elaborate on the relationship. Sure there were some minor mentions of fords childhood winter traditions for the funnies, a reference to dipper and mabel time traveling (footprints), and the santa goat story, but it revealed very little about any of it to defend the existence of that whole scene. It mostly supported already known lore with a silly santa goat story that circled around to Fiddleford being the hero anyway. Basically Christmas story = confirmed Fiddleford likes Ford more than his wife, which leads to gay romantic/QPR implications to his character.

Now, its clear that Fiddleford likes Ford, and by extention in some capacity likes men. So is he gay or bi? Not much evidence obviously, but I speculate he was gay, because if he had the ability to also like women as much as he liked men, why jump to the first woman so early in life and marry her? It feels like an impulse decision, he could have waited for others he liked more, to actually make gifts for them for christmas. He married her as if he was trying to hide something. Although no strong evidence to establish this.

And lastly, arguments may ensue because it was not "clearly stated given on a platter", but Alex communicates very indirectly about most lore, often leaving things for interpretation. Repeating the same information twice among two works, AND incorporated an INCREDIBLY specific scene about Christmas is pretty reinforced evidence of his intent.

I feel like Alex is kind of being devious and is toying with the audience because he knows there is a group kind of losing our minds over this particular relationship, hence the hazy statements and stories.

But I feel like summarizing what he wrote and the way he wrote it, there is no other reason why that content exists other than to confirm their sexualies and romantic preferences, and how it supports the plot of the story.

TLDR; update Fandom.con, Fiddleford likes men. Ford is aro/ace.

Like uh do you all agree or am I crazy or uh skmebody save me or 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

[monsteractiasluna]

So I'm a massive fan of demon aus and stuff so i ummm made my own demon au 👉👈

I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to write a fic or not for this,, I plan on maybe writing a few chapters, see if I vibe with it, and then post it or leave it in the abyss depending on how I feel when I'm done.

You are a freelance demon hunter with an odd relationship in regards to the demons you hunt. You allow those who kill criminals or the scum of the Earth to go free but hunt and kill those who harm the innocent. You never thought that your work would follow you home, and you certainly never thought that your work would wake you up every morning with pancakes and waffles. Who taught these demons to work a stove?

Some fun facts about the characters and stuff below the read more :)

-Y/n was raised by a demon, hence why they have such an odd relationship with demons. Y/n views them more as people who can make mistakes and less like evil creatures from hell. Y/n allows demons that kill horrible people to live because their Mother was one of those demons, often targeting abusive spouses and partners.

-Sun and Moon used to be one entity but had split decades ago due to a disagreement. They hadn't seen each other since the split until they both broke into Y'n's house.

-Y/n has lost several limbs during their hunts; but since they're on good terms with multiple demons they are always patched back up and made "whole" again. Y/n's mother is constantly on the verge of tearing their face off from stress.

-Since Sun is a plasma demon his body runs extremely hot. He has to maintain constant control of his body temperature or he risks burning everything around him. He also has to control the brightness of his body as if he gets too excited he WILL blind people. Sun smells like ozone before a lightening strike.

-Moon is a demon made entirely of frigid cold water, so just like Sun he has to work to control his body temperature. His natural temperature is extremely cold but if he gets too upset the water that makes up his body could solidify turning to ice. He can freeze the water in the air around him easily. He smells like the ocean during winter.

-Y/n is one of the only demon hunters capable of locking demons into objects. If they cannot kill a demon they will imprison them into an object and keep them in a locked room inside their house. They often put Sun and Moon inside a plasma ball and a snow globe when the two start fighting. Gay demon jail.

-Y/n is capable of using their mother's demonic magic, which is how they are so proficient during hunts. Mother's magic is plant based and helps Y/n control roots, vines, and other flora in their surroundings. The bracelet they wear signifies the bond the two have and Y/n can communicate with their mother through that bond. The bracelet can only be removed if the bond is severed, either through one party dying, both parties agreeing to sever said bond, or a strong enough desire to break free of the bond in some cases.

-Bonds between a demon and a human can come in a few flavors, romantic bonds are symbolized through the demon's solidified magic turning into a ring, familial or friendly bonds are symbolized with a bracelet, and forced bonds are symbolized via a collar around the victims throat.

-Vanessa is Y/n's protegee, after Y/n helped save Vanessa from a forced bond from a demon Vanessa decided she wanted to become a demon hunter to get revenge on the demon who enslaved her. Vanessa doesn't fully believe that demons aren't just evil creatures from hell, but does trust Y/n's judgement.

-The other animatronics are also demons! Y/n is friends with most of them :) Roxanne is a demon that specifically hunts human traffickers, Chica is a demon who hunts people that dump waste into the environment illegally (and then proceeds to consume the dump to ensure the environment isn't too badly effected), Freddy and Bonnie hunt down child abusers and often work as a team to do it, and Monty hunts poachers and exotic animal traffickers.

-Moon falls for Y/n first and falls fast. The minute y/n kicked his ass the first time he was down bad. He makes himself a nuisance to Y/n because he isn't entirely sure how to process these feelings and decides to makes it everybody else's problem. Sun originally just wanted to be friends but as time went on he realized he was falling for Y/n too. While Moon fell in love with you for your ferocity during hunts, Sun falls for your kindness and understanding towards those affected by other demons. Sun absolutely adores your passion and need for justice and it literally makes him swoon.

[cameronspecial]

Hiii I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could maybe write something where Drew and the reader moms have been friends since college only causing for the reader, Drew and his siblings to be close due to growing up side by side in Drew’s hometown.

Drew and the reader have been together for a while and they have a little girl together (around 3 or 4 years old) They return to their hometown to celebrate Christmas with their families all together opening gifts, eating Christmas lunch and things like that just loads of fluff between Drew and his daughter the reader and the family.

I would really appreciate if you could do this thank you!!!

Magic Snow Globe

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: Surprise! This wasn't on the schedule so it is my Christmas gift to you guys. This is separate from my dad!Drew series.

Masterlist

Drew watches as Grace examines her father’s childhood bedroom. This isn’t the first time she has been in it, but it feels like the first time because her consciousness is now able to form memories. Her eyes catch the snow globe sitting on the desk and she runs to it. She glances at her father for approval and he nods for her to pick it up. Once the trinket is in her hands, Drew picks the small girl up and places her on his lap as he sits on the bed. “Do you want to know where Daddy got this from?” he asks the three-year-old. Her head vigorously moves up and down. He takes the orb into his hands, turning it over to wind the key at the bottom. The melody of “Silent Night” plays as he begins his story. “Your mommy gave it to me. When we were in middle school…” 

———

Drew loved Christmas time. It meant that he got to spend the Winter break with the Y/L/Ns. This year, they were exploring a little Christmas village that Y/N’s mom found. The hour and a half drive was long, yet worth it once they saw the picture-esque shops covered in snow. Y/N and Drew were old enough to be allowed to go off by themselves and it was exciting for the pair. Drew’s eyes drank in everything and he adored everything about this town. The Christmas music. The small town architecture. The smell of gingerbread cookies in the air. It all brought the holiday to life for him. “God, I wish I could stay in this place forever,” he thought to himself out loud. She caught his words and wanted to make that dream come true. She excused herself for a minute, remembering something she saw inside of a store. She came running back with her hand behind her back and a wide grin on her face. 

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out,” she ordered. He was confused but obeyed her words. His eyebrows met at a point when he heard the familiar tune of “Silent Night”. A weight fell into his hands and his eyelids pulled apart. In his hands was a snow globe. Inside the glass, there was a red-bricked house with a green wreath on the black door. The roof was covered in glittery white snow and more sparkles floated through the water as he moved the orb around in his hands. “Why are you giving me this?” he questioned. She shrugged with a smile, “We can’t exactly stay here forever, so I thought that being able to bring a little piece of it with you would be just as good.” Drew didn’t feel like he needed his jacket anymore because her gesture warmed him up to be burning hot. He knew this was the moment he realized he had fallen in love with the girl who would do anything to make his dreams come true.

———

“And Mommy really did do everything she could to make my dreams come true. She’s the reason why I have an amazing wife, a successful career as an actor, and the most spectacular baby girl in the world,” he recounts. He lifts his daughter into the air and attacks her with kisses. She giggles at the feeling of his lips on her cheeks. He sits back down with her in his lap. He notices she is clinging to the snow globe like her life depends on it. “Auntie Brooke just got in. Come say hello, you two,” Y/N instructs her family. Grace nods and hops off of her father’s lap. She carefully places the symbol of her parents' love on the desk and runs downstairs to greet her aunt.

———

Christmas day, Y/N’s head rests on her husband's chest as everyone watches Grace and her cousins unwrap gifts. The adults love to drink in the Christmas magic coming to life for the kids. Y/N’s nephew places Grace’s next gift onto her lap and her parents watch as she tears apart the paper. Her face lights up at the snow globe she finds. She wobbles a little as her feet plant on the ground and she stands up. She makes her way to Y/N and Drew. Her mother pulls her into the adults’ hold. “Thank you for the snow globe, Daddy,” she says, kissing his cheek. Drew smoothes back her hair, “You’re welcome, Gracie. This is a promise that Daddy is going to do everything he can to help you achieve your dreams.” Grace snuggles into her father’s chest at the promise before going back to opening presents. Drew notices his wife’s gaze and kisses her on the lips. “I guess I’m going to need to get you another snow globe. We wouldn’t want our other baby to feel like their dreams aren’t going to come true,” she whispers to her husband. Drew’s eyebrows furrow for a second and then he fully comprehends her words.

A giant grin crosses his face as he rests a warm hand on her stomach. “I can’t wait for our little family to grow. I can’t believe that I keep having my dreams come true because of you. Having an amazing family with you will always be my biggest dream.” Drew should thank that snow globe because it must have some dream-giving magic. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[kooahae]

After Last Night: The First Date

So...I got encouraged about starting the ALN drabble series since I kind of hinted at it, and received feedback to do so...you voted and the first date wins!

Summary: It’s official! Jungkook wants to have the perfect first date. 

Pairing: best friends to lovers, Jungkook X female reader 

Warnings: None really, maybe a few curse words, light choking during a kiss, This is really fluffy and cute. Jungkook is a simp and we love that for OC! Pet names, kissing, just super cute!

Word count:3K -got carried away bc I love them :)

Read part 1 here if you haven't already <3

Read the next drabble here

It’s been about two weeks since he asked if he could be your boyfriend. He has been busy with work and everything, but he’s still made time for you. He just knows you deserve more than cuddles and sex -not that he hates either of these by any means. Jungkook has been on his A-game the whole time. He's made sure to plan the most perfect date. You haven’t pressured him about one, but he still feels he should treat you like a princess.

He had Jimin call up Yoongi- who is really hard to get ahold of. Partially because he’s revealed he plans on expanding on the restaurant he owns with Jungkook’s older brother. Luckily today, Yoongi had a bit of free time. He even tried Taehyung, but he was busy helping Namjoon set up a new space. Namjoon left the company due to Seojun’s promotion. Hobi was out of town working on some fashion pieces for his upcoming collection. Your brother was way too obvious, and If he had tried his older brother Jin- you really would have known. So yup, that leaves Yoongi. 

Jungkook’s currently in the flower shop getting a custom bouquet of both of your birth flowers. He was still stuck on what color paper to get them wrapped in.  He swears he didn’t know it would be this difficult. He just wants you to be impressed, he wants you to feel like you made a good choice trusting him with your heart. So today has to be perfect!

“Hi, do you need help?” An elderly woman approaches him at the perfect time. Paying attention to her clothes, Jungkook can tell she works here. 

“Uhh…Yeah what color paper should someone get, does stuff like that matter?” He asks her as he looks at all the different ones in front of him 

Jungkook has bought flowers before, but he never went to an actual florist for them to make his own bouquet combo. He would just buy someone the ones in a grocery store most of the time. 

The older woman chuckles “You’re asking about paper? She must be special, I’d get a neutral-colored paper so it doesn’t take away from the flowers. Plus, you’re gonna put them in a vase. Don’t think too much.”

He nods. She’s right, this is her field of knowledge anyway. 

He’s still not satisfied though. 

“Mmm, can I double the amount of flowers? This doesn’t seem like enough.”  he rubs his palms against his jeans, his bottom lip poking out at the bouquet in front of him. He’s down bad, and there simply aren’t enough flowers to give someone as pretty as you. 

“A big bouquet? she’s definitely special! Sure thing. I’m gonna take a guess and say you’re the tiger lily in the situation?” She questions him gathering more flowers. 

He runs his hands through his hair and looks down at his shoes. Damn, he really is obvious. It’s not his fault, he just loves you that much. “How did you know?” He questions. 

“You have smitten lover boy written all over you. You’re worried about paper. I’ve never seen someone so stuck on that. Most men just let me wrap them in whatever, or choose black.” She continues. “Would you like to add a message?”

He nods and takes the pen and card from her. Writing a simple and sweet message. He pays, thanks her for the help, and makes his way

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

His next stop is setting up the rooftop of your favorite childhood hideout.  He even asked Jimin and his mom for baby pictures of you both to put into a snow globe. He’s been coming here thirty minutes before work every day to make sure the floor was swept, the area was free of any trash or things that could make you fall. You guys haven’t been here in a while. 

He decides to check in with his older brother Jin, to see if he thinks what he’s planned is a good idea.

“Hello?”- thankfully he answered his call. 

“Hey hyung, are you busy? Do you have a moment?” Jungkook is desperate for a second opinion. 

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I’m really nervous. I know you’re probably tired of me calling you about my girlfriend, but can I tell you what I’ve planned? Can you tell me if I’m being a little paranoid about her not liking it ?” He says while glancing over his work, phone pressed to his ear, scuffing his feet as he walks to have a seat. 

“Sure Kook, go ahead. I’m listening. Also not tired of hearing about your girlfriend, yet. At least this is one I actually love, and approve of.” Jin really does love you, you’re like his little sister in a sense. Always at the house to spend time with his baby brother as a kid. He’s fond of you for sure. 

“A rooftop dinner, at our childhood hideout”

There’s nothing but silence. 

“Uhh…Hyung…why haven’t you said anything? Is It childish?” Jungkook is really nervous. What is taking Jin so long to answer?

“I’m here. You had more than one so I had to think. The one on the roof? That’s cute man! “ Jin’s impressed. That’s a good sign. 

“Yes, that one! I made a bunch of her favorite foods, set up a projector for movie night, and got a flower bouquet It’s a mix of our birth flowers, and bean bags for the movie, I also got her a gift but like is that too much?” He’s really questioning it all. Normally Jungkook wouldn’t be so unsure. You’re just his everything. You fill him with a great sense of joy. Getting this right is crucial. 

“She’s going to love it.” His brother states on the other end of the phone calming your boyfriend down. 

“You’ve known her your whole life, don’t be so scared Kook. You know her better than anyone else and luckily she feels the same way. Be yourself, that’s who she fell for.” Jin tells him. 

“You’re right hyung! Thank you for always listening to me. I know I’m a lot.” Jungkook makes sure he expresses his gratitude. He’s thankful for Jin. Truly means it. 

“Yes, you are a lot. Now make her the happiest girl on earth.”

“Will do!” Jungkook states before hanging up. He takes one last look around. Everything is finally in place. So he gets up and then heads home to change.  

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Once he gets home he takes his phone out to text you. He forgot to check in with you while he was on the rooftop. 

-Hey baby, how’s your day going? 

Naekkeo🤍🪽: I miss you and I’m hungry!

Yoongi won’t feed me! He’s being weird, can we order dinner?

Jungkook smiles as he reads your message. Yoongi must be getting asked a million questions about food right now. He can already see your frown forming about the lack of nutrients in your body. In your defense, Yoongi does own a restaurant with Jungkook’s older brother Jin. Being food-deprived by him is weird. He decides to play it cool when he responds, but he’s also honest. 

- I can’t wait to hear about your day in person. As far as dinner, of course. See you when you get here!

Jungkook hurries and changes into something comfortable. He knows sweatpants and a hoodie seem crazy for a rooftop dinner and movie. It’s one of his more expensive ones though and he also knows you’re gonna want to cuddle while watching a movie, and that rooftops get a little chilly. He should be himself like Jin said. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

 He finally hears the door open and smiles at the sound of you walking in. He knows you’re doing your usual entrance routine with Bam. Teaching Bam to give you high fives was the coolest thing when he was a puppy. It’s cute that you still make sure he’s included when you walk in. It’s really nice to have you back home too.  

You finally walk into the room and see your boyfriend smiling at you as he sits on the bed, you climb onto his lap and kiss him. 

“Missed you so so much!” you’ve been waiting all day to see him. The excitement in your voice is evident. 

“I missed you too baby.” He says and then he watches you sit your head back up, noticing your brows are now furrowed in. 

“Wait, why are you dressed and not in home clothing? What’s the reason for this shirt blocking my view?” You ask him, tilting your head. You try and lift his shirt but he swats your hand away, cracking up in the process. 

“You can see me shirtless later! You’re about to change into something too. My hoodie is over there. You can keep your jeans on, but I recommend wearing sneakers.”

You tilt your head some more and Jungkook kisses the middle of your forehead.

“Always worrying. I’m taking you to dinner. Go change.” He pats you lightly on the butt.

You smile and get up. Dinner out of the house sounds like fun. You wouldn’t care if it was fast food. You genuinely love spending time with him. Always have. 

You throw on his hoodie and your sneakers since he recommended it. He holds his hand out for you to take, and you both head to his car. Once you’re both inside Jungkook starts searching for something. 

“Ah almost forgot. Blindfold time.” He says flashing a smile, his nose scrunching a little. 

“If you’re trying to kill me for taking so long to be your girlfriend, Jimin will find you.” You joke and he laughs. 

“No one is dying here. If you’re gone, then I can’t be your boyfriend. That would suck.”  He assures you but then continues. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take you on a proper date, hmm?” 

That makes you smile, per usual. You really weren’t expecting a date today. You would have prepared more, but you trust him. He would tell you if you looked crazy leaving the house for sure. Plus, you’re kind of already done up from hanging out with Yoongi.

“Anything you do is great. You would be a mediocre boyfriend though.” You say while pointing at him agreeing. You’re so cute. 

“And I don’t want that. I want to be the world’s best boyfriend. Come here.” He responds

You let him slide the blindfold over you, stealing a kiss before he can adjust the tightness to make sure you can’t peak. 

“You barely hesitated to let me put that on you. You probably like that, don’t you?”He’s laughing. Something you’ll never get tired of hearing. You pick up on his little comment though. 

You reach to feel for his arm since you can’t see, and once you do find it, you slap him playfully. 

“You’re always being kinky!” You say and he laughs some more. 

“You literally tried to strip me of my clothes a few minutes ago on the bed.” Fair point.

“I just wanted a peak!” You can’t even see him but it’s making your heart flutter. Putting one hand on your thigh as he puts the car in gear.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Okay, I’m gonna open your door, and crouch down to get on my back, okay baby?”

“You keep calling me baby, only future husbands can do that .” You say as you follow his instructions crouching down. 

“That’s not a problem for me at all. Been waiting my whole life for a chance. We can get married.” He is serious, whether you believe him or not. He doesn’t mean now of course but eventually, he’d love it. 

If Jungkook knows how to do anything- he knows how to make your cheeks red and have you smile like an idiot. You wish you could see his face right now. He probably has a smile as big as yours on his own. 

Once you’re on his back he starts walking and you recognize the movement of him going up some steps. You smile to yourself. He really could have told you to walk but he’s carrying you up flights of stairs, on his back. How can he be so manly but so cute all the time?

“Okay, we are here. I’m gonna sit you down now.” He crouches down and lets you off. You’re safely in the middle. 

“I wanna see!” You say. The amount of enthusiasm you have makes Jungkook’s heart skip. Seriously, Why are you so cute? He’ll have to remember to thank your mom another time for making you. 

He hurries and walks to the table he set up to get the flower bouquet and then he walks to you. Undoing your blindfold and smiling. 

“It’s officially our first date, I wanted to surprise you.” He sing-songs looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. Stretching his arms out to hand you a bouquet. It’s beautiful, just like him. The message with them makes you feel warm inside. 

’Thank you for choosing me, 

I am so happy that it’s finally us!  

HAPPY FIRST DATE TO  MY GIRLFRIEND  (never gonna get tired of calling you that)

- Koo &lt;3 ’ 

As you look around, you feel your eyes get teary and then you smile and look at him. 

“Jungkook! This is so nice!!” You say and reach for his face, kissing him softly on the lips. 

“ I just want you to know I feel really lucky to be your boyfriend.” He holds you close to his chest

“Kook, you really did all this for me?” You say peeking up at him. Jungkook looks down at you. Your pretty eyes glancing back at his. You’re always going to be his type. 

He smiles and nods his head proudly. “Well yeah… because I love you.” He says matter of factly. 

You return his smile. “I love you. I feel really lucky to be your girlfriend.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you for always sticking by my side. You have no idea how horrible things feel when you aren’t there with me. You deserve all of this and more.” He says kissing your forehead. 

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You’re now situated on the bean bags while the projector plays movies. Sitting in his lap-Just like he knew you would be.

“Do you remember when we found this place? ” He asks you as he holds you, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it. 

“Yeah, I remember someone dragging me up a weird staircase at ten years old..” You giggle and poke his chest while looking up at him. 

“In my defense, we used to love a good adventure. It wasn’t anything too dangerous. We always stood in the middle. We always take the staircase that leads up here and not the ladder, it’s been a foolproof plan for a while.” He points out and brushes your hair out of your face. You guys have been reminiscing all night. The food was excellent, so now you’re paying minimal attention to the movie. He kisses your cheek and then he just stops. He’s staring at you…

“What?” 

“You’re just really fucking cute.” He says as he leans to kiss you passionately. Jungkook continues “And I’m glad you liked my idea, I spent all day trying to impress you. This just worked out way better than I expected.” He holds you tightly and then remembers something…

He didn’t even show you the snow globe he got to commemorate the occasion. He was too busy making sure you were eating.  He will never forget your face when he got you the first one, he also broke that one but…it was an accident.  He swears! He just finds it cute how happy you get every time he gives you one.

You part your mouth interrupting his thoughts. “I’ve been impressed by you my whole life, you have officially ruined me for any other guy. I was impressed back then, I’m impressed now.” You make sure he understands, as your fingers play with the zipper on his jacket. 

“Thank you, I’m glad that you love me just as much as I love you.” He says again smiling. He’s been doing that a lot lately. So have you. You’re with the right person and it couldn’t feel any better. 

 “You have a present on the table and I forgot to give it to you.” He’s looking at you. Dimples on display, eyebrows raised and another cute little grin is plastered across his face. 

Your head shoots up, so he stands up leading you to the table. Then hands you the box to unwrap the snow globe. A childhood picture of you and a young Jungkook in matching panda onesies from his 4th birthday. You’ve been asking for this photo for years and he always told you no because it was his favorite. 

“Koo! Oh my god! You really are gonna let me have this?”

He nods yeah one more time. He watches you shake the snow globe and skip around out of happiness. He’s happy just watching you enjoy it. Your joy shines through in this moment. He loves it. He loves you.

“If four-year-old me knew the girl who spilled banana milk on my panda pajamas would be the love of my life. He might’ve smiled more in this picture, instead of sticking his tongue out at you.” He says wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“Interesting, you put your tongue into my mouth nowadays.” You’re so unserious, What is he gonna do with you?

“Now who’s the kinky one? Come here.” He says as he wraps his hand around your neck tilting your head upward lightly choking you as he swallows your moans into the kiss pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“Proving me right?” You say raising one eyebrow and he nods his head yeah while grinning. Then pecks you one more time on your lips and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“One more gift.” He says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Jewelry box for tonight’s final touch - a necklace with his initials on it. He carefully places it around your neck. 

“There.” He says kissing the crook of your neck. 

You reach and touch the JK that now sits perfectly on your chest. Jungkook Is the man of your dreams. No question about it. 

“I love this! I’m never taking it off!” You say spinning in his arms to face him and shower him in kisses

“I got a necklace!” You start kissing his right cheek

“And it’s got my favorite person on it!” Now you’re kissing his other cheek. 

“I’m never gonna..” You say kissing him with all your being.

“Take it off.” He says finishing the phrase for you and smiling at you. You’re both giggling and just smiling at each other as he sways you back and forth in his arms. The fondness between the both of you is obvious. 

You both just stare into each other’s eyes for a while until you break the silence. 

“Wanna go home?” You ask him.  

He pecks your lips one more time spinning you in his arms. Your back is now to his chest. So, he slides his hand over your heart, sits his chin on your shoulder, and whispers into your ear.

“I’m already there.” 

Best. First. Date. Ever. 

Taglist: @diorh0seokie @taesungx @kimber-kook @jennafromhome @joyfulwobblerhoagieegg