#I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS UNDER A MISTLETOE OKAY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eiightysixbaby · 1 year ago

Text

under the mistletoe

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)

2.6k

summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss

cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff

“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”

You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…

“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.

This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.

You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.

“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.

“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.

“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”

You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.

Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.

But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…

The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.

Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.

Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.

“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.

“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.

Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.

“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.

“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.

The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.

That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.

“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.

Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.

“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.

The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.

You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.

“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.

He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.

“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.

He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.

“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.

Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.

“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.

The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.

You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.

Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.

Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.

“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.

“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.

“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.

She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.

“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.

“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.

“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”

“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.

“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.

The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.

“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.

“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.

“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.

“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.

He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.

Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.

“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.

“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.

Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.

“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”

“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.

“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.

His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.

Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.

Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.

When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.

“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.

“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.

Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.

He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.

“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.

“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.

Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.

“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.

You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

dotster001 · 2 years ago

Text

How they get you under the Mistletoe

Summary: Twst NRC students x gn! reader. How they get you under the Mistletoe.

A/N: Merry Christmas if you celebrate that! If not, happy holidays! I was gonna do the staff too for this, but it got so long 😂 if people enjoy this, I can do the staff and RSA/Noble bell.

The Long awaited Part Two

Ace Trappola

You have no idea until it's too late.

You had to admit, despite the strict rulebook she made, the queen of hearts knew how to throw a holiday party. You were finishing off a glass of the best sparkling cider you'd ever had when you felt an arm around your waist.

You turned to see Ace, just in time for him to lightly punch your shoulder as he told some random student, "And this one? You shoulda seen them, they really whipped our asses into shape."

"You're exaggerating," Deuce pouted from next to him.

"Am not," Ace said. He pushed you slightly forward and gestured to you.

"You wouldn't know it by looking at them, but our beloved Y/N can be a hard ass."

He took a step forward, and whispered, "Huh. Would you look at that prefect. It appears we are under the mistletoe."

You wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, but it was too late. His lips were already on yours.

The world around you faded, and for a moment it was just you and him. Then you were brought back to reality by …

"Ew, Ace," Deuce groaned, and walked away, as did the other Heartslaybul student.

You were about to follow after them to apologize for Ace's tomfoolery, when he grabbed your wrist and whispered, "Hey, we're still under the mistletoe. Can't wreck tradition, now can we?"

Deuce Spade

You were setting up decorations together

First years were in charge of setting up the decor for the Heartslaybul holiday party. Ace and Deuce had of course come begging on their hands and knees for you and Grim to come help.

You'd decided it would save time if you split the work, so Ace and Grim were working on the upstairs hall decor, while you and Deuce were working on the common room.

You were on a shaky ladder trying to hang up some garland and mistletoe, when Deuce panicked and held your ladder still.

"I feel better knowing that I'm holding the ladder still for you," he said, looking up at you nervously.

You nodded, and finished hanging the things, before climbing down (sort of) into his waiting arms. You were about to say you were okay, when you noticed his reddened cheeks, and his eyes flicking between the mistletoe and your lips.

Knowing Deuce as long as you had, you knew you'd have to initiate the thing he clearly wanted. You pressed a quick peck to his lips.

His eyes widened, then darkened as he smiled mischievously. He grabbed your face and kissed you fervently until Grim came through hoping to escape, and screamed.

Riddle Rosehearts

You have to follow the rules.

Riddle had been acting funny the entirety of the party. He'd been quiet, and his face was a bright red, but you figured he was probably tired from exams, and/or stressed about returning home for the break.

It was nearing the end of the party, when he suddenly approached you with a stern frown on his face.

"I know you aren't a member of Heartslaybul, but remember, when you are in my kingdom, you have to follow my rules."

"Why yes, your majesty, of course," you gave a mock curtsy. "And now I'm sure you're gonna tell me what rule I broke?"

He scowled before he turned away.

"Rule 533, the queen and their beloved must share a kiss under the mistletoe, if the holiday is being celebrated under a full moon."

"I'm your beloved?" You couldn't decide whether to tease him, or flush yourself. But this whole thing was very vulnerable of him, and your heart was melting.

"Yes" he whispered. "Now are you going to follow me to mistletoe, or do I have to punish you?"

You gave a fake sigh, "Lead the way, your majesty."

He led you under the mistletoe, and gave you a chaste kiss.

"That's it?" You scoffed.

"What do you mean that's…"

You cut him off with a deep kiss, that he reciprocated incredibly quickly.

When you pulled away, it hit you.

"Wait, isn't it a crescent moon tonight?"

His eyes widened at being caught, and he said the first thing that came to his otherwise empty brain.

"Off with your head!"

Trey Clover

A quiet (orchestrated) moment alone

You were helping Trey with the baking for the party. Knowing Heartslaybul, the party itself was going to be raucous, so having some time to just chill with Trey was nice.

Once everything was in the oven, you began trying to clean up some of the clutter.

"There's no need to do that right now," he said with a soft smile. He took a seat and patted the chair next to him.

"Come sit for a moment, just relax," he hummed before crossing his arms behind his head, closing his eyes, and leaning back.

You took the seat next to him, and did your best to find a comfortable position before sighing.

"I'm not an old man like you. I can't just sleep anywhere."

He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

"Old man?"

"Yeah, let's face it Trey. You're an old man in a college kid's body."

He smiled mischievously. "That so?"

He pulled out some mistletoe he'd been holding on to and held it above your head, using his other hand to seductively caress your jaw.

"Well, ya gonna give this old man a kiss?"

"That came out weird," You said with a laugh.

"I know, I heard it after I said it," he winced. "Still…"

He leaned in even closer.

"Part of that question still stands," he whispered.

Before you could tease him with a "which part", he was kissing you like he was starving, and you were his last meal.

Cater Diamond

Doing an innocent trend

Being the token non magic student at NRC, Cater knew you were a gold mine for content. You'd become a frequent guest on Cater's magicam, and a popular one at that.

So when Cater had told you before the party that he would need you for a trend later, you didn't think too much about it.

Now he was dragging you off somewhere, giggling over his shoulder as you spilled your drink, or tripped on a stray student. You figured you'd pay him back later.

He stopped abruptly, and told you to stay put as he set up his camera. You had ten seconds once he started the camera to get set, so he always filled you in while he set up any filters or sound bites he wanted.

"Kay, so you're under mistletoe right? So the trend is to kiss your bestie's cheeks under the mistletoe, then hug. All you gotta do is stand there and look fabulous, until the hug part."

It sounded like a pretty boring trend to you. But, whatever, that's why Cater was in charge. He finished set up, pressed the button, and the ten seconds timer started. He ran back over to you, gave you a reassuring, "ready?", And then kissed your cheek on the far side to the camera as the video started.

He kissed your other cheek, and you began to move closer for the hug, when his arms were around you, and he was kissing you.

He took a step back, and took in your appearance, which was flustered and shocked. Your jaw was dropped so far you were certain it was on the floor. And your heart, oh God your heart, you were worried it was beating way too fast.

The set time of the video ended, and Cater practically skipped over to his phone, where he checked the video, added some effects, put in some tags, and posted it.

All you could do was watch him the entire time, words completely gone from your brain.

After the video posted, he put his phone back in his pocket and gave you a smug grin.

"I tagged you in it," he said, eyes looking softer than usual as he pointed to the pocket you kept your phone in.

You pulled it out, and looked at the video you were tagged in.

"Kissing my crush under the mistletoe to see how they'll react."

Leona Kingscholar

It was an accident, but he's not complaining.

Ruggie had asked you to bring Leona the food plate he'd asked for, since he was trying to put as much food in Tupperware as he could before the Savannaclaw party finished. You were a good pal, so you agreed, knowing full well that the second the plate was secure, and you were in arms reach, you would become a nap buddy.

But you weren't complaining. Even though Savannaclaw was hot, it still felt nice to cuddle with a heater during the holidays. For the vibes, of course.

Just as predicted, he opened a single eye, had you set down the plate, and suddenly, you were a little spoon.

"Thanks herbivore," he hummed half heartedly as he nuzzled into your neck.

You were finally starting to drift off, when you were flipped on your back, and he was hovering above you. His eyes were lit up with mischief as he looked down at you like the prey you were beginning to realize you were.

"I guess my nap spot just happens to be under the mistletoe. You'll indulge me, right herbivore?"

Then his lips were on your neck, your jaw, your cheek, but never your lips, until you whined at him to stop teasing you.

He laughed lowly, and whispered, "As you wish." And finally gave you what you wanted.

Ruggie Bucchi

If you don't know how he does it, hi, you must be new. Welcome to the fandom 😂

"Laugh with me," he whispered, and before you could cuss him out for being a prick, he was already giggling and walking you both over to the mistletoe that you'd seen a Savannaclaw student and his Octavinelle boyfriend making out under an hour ago.

When you both stopped under it, he gasped in mock surprise.

"My my my, what have we here? It appears we've been caught under the mistletoe!" He said, as his grin turned sneakier and sneakier now that he was certain he'd won.

His tail was wagging at a mile a minute as you "reluctantly" puckered your lips out to him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and you thought it was over.

But Ruggie is an opportunist.

Hours of making out later, you finally pried yourself from Ruggie's embrace, but only on the promise that you would bring back some hot chocolate to share.

Jack Howl

You'll have to initiate.

The entirety of the party, you'd seen Jack's eyes flicker to the mistletoe, over to you, and then down to the floor in embarrassment.

He'd made sure neither of you wandered over in that direction, and if you asked him if something was wrong, his cheeks would darken.

Naturally, because this was Savannaclaw, you, Ruggie and Jack were the only ones there for party cleanup.

You subtly made eye contact with Ruggie and nodded towards the mistletoe, then towards Jack.

Ruggie grinned and made a gesture for money with his hands. You rolled your eyes and nodded, and he smiled.

"We're out of garbage bags, I'll be right back guys," Ruggie said before leaving the room.

Jack started to follow after him, and you grabbed his arm.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"We have trash bags right here," he nodded at the obvious box of trash bags, and you cursed Ruggie in your head.

"He's just giving us privacy, come over here," you did your best to pull him over to the mistletoe, but he was made out of stone.

"Why?"

"Gah! Just trust me!"

He frowned, but allowed you to pull him over. Once you were under the mistletoe, his tail started wagging like a fan, but his eyes couldn't meet yours.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, until he sighed, and relaxed.

It was over far too soon, but you knew Jack would probably explode if you overdid it. And you'd rather not have that happen.

What surprised you, though, was how you were suddenly engulfed in his arms, as he buried his face in your hair, and held you close.

Azul Ashengrotto

His wingmen are simultaneously the worst and the best.

The Monstro Lounge was having a winter themed night. Azul may or may not have been planning with the tweels how he was going to effortlessly get you under the mistletoe.

You arrived, as planned, with Grim, and had taken a seat at a table near the VIP room.

"Prefect! I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I was hoping you could look at the menu I'm thinking about for the next semester."

"Of course," you stood up and followed him to the chosen spot, but now that you were here, he was nervous to initiate. So he continued pointing out dishes on the menu until…

"Have you kissed them yet?" Floyd shouted from across the lounge.

"Yes, you see we've been keeping other students away from the mistletoe, but they are starting to get upset. I'd hurry up if I were you," Jade said at a much subtler volume.

Azul turned a bright shade of red as you looked at him.

"I…well…prefect?"

You gave him a nod, and he took a deep breath, and kissed you.

"God finally!"

"Subtly, Floyd!"

Jade Leech

You don't know until it's too late, part 2.

"There's something I'd like to show you in my room. My new terrarium has produced interesting results."

You were following Jade to his room, when you realized he was no longer walking with you. You turned around and saw him furrowing his brow at his phone, and typing something.

You walked back over to him to ask what was wrong, and you were suddenly pulled flush against him as he gave you a smug grin.

"Looks like you've trapped me under the mistletoe," he said as though he wasn't the one who had pulled you in.

"Ah well," he sighed, with a surrendering smile, running a gloved finger along your jaw, then tilting your chin up. "if that is what you truly desire, I suppose I shall have to oblige."

Floyd Leech

You have three options.

There are three ways this can go, and it all depends on his mood.

Route 1:

Floyd had joined you in your booth and continued slouching, until he finally just laid himself in your lap.

"Floyd, there is mistletoe over there," Jade said as he dropped off the food you'd ordered.

Floyd groaned, "Shrimpy and I can just kiss over here. What's the big deal about a leaf?"

Route 2:

Floyd immediately grabbed your hand when you set foot in the Monstro Lounge. He giggled excitedly like a kid on Christmas morning.

"C'mon Shrimpy! We gotta kiss under the mistletoe!"

Whether you're flustered or not doesn't matter. Prepare for excited sloppy kisses.

Route 3:

Floyd said nothing as you entered the lounge and he just….scooped you up. Long boy was way too strong to fight off, so you just kind of let him. But that was the only way to get along with Floyd really. You just had to be along for the ride.

Once he reached where he was going, he adjusted your position so that you were pressed to him, and his hands were under your knees, and you wrapped your arms around him for more support.

"Hmmm…. I've caught myself a Shrimpy," he said lowly, but his eyes were glittering with excitement.

"Well, it's too late for you," he leaned in and nibbled your lip. "Because according to Azul and land people's traditions, that leaf above us means you have to kiss me."

Kalim al Asim

Just asks you like a normal person.

The Scarabia holiday party was hopping, obviously. You'd expected nothing less. He'd planned for everything including...

"Y/N! Let's go kiss under the mistletoe!" He said excitedly as he grabbed your hand.

He froze for a minute then looked at you sheepishly.

"Only if you want to, of course, but I'd really like to kiss you, please?"

How could you say no to those puppy eyes?

"Of cour-"

The words weren't out of your mouth when he was pulling you to the mistletoe, and excitedly kissing you all over your face, really anywhere he could reach, like his affection for you was exploding in kiss form.

Jamil Viper

A quiet moment, in private.

You knew Jamil was probably in charge of a lot for the party. He seemed particularly stressed, too, because after this he had to oversee cleanup, and then helping all the students get ready to go home for break.

So you stayed out of his way during the party, and offered to take over cleanup manager, while he helped final inspections and packing.

He finished a little before you, then helped you finish, and invited you for tea in his room. When you both had your tea, he exhaustedly flopped backwards on the bed with a groan.

"That was a lot," he sighed.

"Yeah, but you have a little break now," you said, massaging his shoulders.

He sat up with a start.

"I was supposed to kiss you!"

"Huh?"

Instead of answering, he just started fervently making out with you. Eventually, your lips were free as he held you close and kissed your neck and the rest of your face.

"What do you mean you were supposed to kiss me?"

"Under the mistletoe," he managed to get out. "It's the whole reason Kalim put the stupid thing there."

Vil Schoenheit

He just asks (pt 2) He's not an animal, potato.

The holiday party was a formal affair in the Pomefiore dorm. Vil was seated in his throne, with Rook standing by his side, as his potatoes mingled. His eyes were on a single potato. You.

At length, Rook gave a laugh.

"Roi du poison, just go kiss them. You know you want to."

Vil sighed, and gave a glare to Rook, but it was too late. He was already calling you over to the throne.

You arrived and gave a mock bow.

"Your highness," you said with a grin. "You called?"

"Yes," since you were going to act like a smart ass, he'd play with you a little. "I'd like you to join me under the mistletoe, if you'd be so kind."

Your jaw dropped, and you looked like a blubbering fish. He smiled to himself, and stood up from the throne, gracefully taking your arm and walking to the mistletoe.

He tilted your head up with a single finger and smugly asked, "Well?"

You gave a vigorous nod. He laughed and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Then he just walked away.

Always leave your audience wanting more.

Rook Hunt

Everything seems normal-WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?

He must have been hiding nearby. Waiting for you. A part of you was chiding yourself for not knowing.

You had intended to walk past the mistletoe into the kitchen, where you would get some more snacks. No one had been around. You were certain.

Rook dropped from the sky just as you stepped under the mistletoe.

"What the fuck!" You shouted, but he was simply giggling, and wrapping his arms around you, trapping your arms to your sides.

"You let your guard down, Mon Trickster."

"Yeah, that's on me," you sighed.

"Is the prey surrendering?" He laughed out in amusement.

You gave an experimental wiggle, then sighed .

"Yeah, looks like it."

He leaned in and spoke against your lips, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"Then I'll take my prize now."

Epel Felmier

Thinks it's stupid…until it's not.

"Kissin' under the mistletoe is a stupid tradition," Epel said for the fifth time in an hour. But this was the first time you'd heard it. You'd been elsewhere all day. But he'd said it to literally everybody else.

"Yeah, it kind of is," you laughed back, and his frown deepened.

"W-well, it's not that stupid," Epel said.

"Sure it is, I mean who even came up with it?"

"It's not stupid! I'll prove it to ya!"

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you off under the mistletoe, and kissed you hard.

"See? Not stupid," he said smugly. Until he realized what he'd just done. Then his face turned a bright red.

"Fuck," he muttered. " 'S a stupid tradition."

Idia Shroud

Lmao not happening.

He'll die before he goes to the holiday party. And he'll die before he participates in such a stupid normie tradition.

Sorry Idia simps, but you know I'm right.

Malleus Draconia

Over prepares.

Whoever was in charge of decorating….had definitely overdone it.

The ceiling was covered in mistletoe. You couldn't go more than a couple steps without finding yourself under another sprig.

"Child of man, are you enjoying your festivities?" Malleus suddenly boomed from behind you.

"For sure!" You turned to face him with a smile. "Thanks for inviting me!"

Malleus smiles for a moment, then releases the fakest gasp you've ever heard.

"Child of man! It appears we are under the mistletoe!"

You look at the multitudes of mistletoe on the ceiling, and laugh, "I think it'd be weirder if we weren't under the mistletoe."

He furrows his brow and pouts. "Lilia told me about the human holiday tradition where you must kiss if you are under the mistletoe."

Oh.

OH!

You felt your cheeks warm as you put two and two together.

"O-okay, if you want a kiss then-"

His lips are on yours immediately, his hands in your hair and on your back, like if he stops moving them you'll be able to escape his grip.

He pulls away and licks his lips seductively.

"There, we have not broken tradition."

You both walk a couple of steps, then…

"*Fake gasp* Child of man! We are under the mistletoe yet again!"

Lilia Vanrouge

Hijinks and mischiefs.

You have no idea how you ended up under the mistletoe with Lilia. But now he was floating around you in circles, tapping his chin thoughtfully with a satisfied smirk.

"Now what do I do with you, little human? It appears you have fallen in a trap set by the very crafty Lilia Vanrouge."

You felt his breath on the back of your neck, as he hovered close behind you, but not close enough to actually touch.

"I suppose I could let you go."

He whispered.

Then his breath was on your right ear.

"Or I could trap you here forever so that you have to kiss me whenever I want."

He floated in front of you and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Why it hadn't occurred to you to just leave him there, you had no idea. But with all the hovering and breathing on your skin, you thought you would lose your mind if he didn't kiss you soon.

He hummed to himself, then tilted his head and leaned in close. As his lips were about to brush against yours, he abruptly shifted up and pressed a quick peck to the tip of your nose.

Then he grinned and flew away.

Cheeky bastard.

Silver

A goodnight kiss.

Silver had fallen asleep halfway through the party. He'd woken up at the end, when you were about to leave. He knew it had been snowing, so he'd offered to walk you back to Ramshackle.

As you reached the door, Silver found himself taken with how beautiful you looked surrounded by the snow. Your eyes glinting from the cold, your hair shining with the glitter of snowflakes. Truly radiant.

"Wait," he said softly as you turned the handle.

You turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. He walked closer, and took your hands in his, rubbing his chilly nose against yours affectionately.

"I don't know if I'll get to see you again before break is over," he whispered. You leaned the rest of the way in and softly kissed him, before slowly pulling away and stepping inside.

"Goodnight Silver," you whispered, and he swore he'd never been more awake than that moment.

Sebek Zigvolt

It's stupid until it isn't (pt 2)

"Y/N keeps walking very close to that mistletoe. Dangerously close," Lilia whispered to Sebek.

"So?" Sebek asked, as though he hadn't been watching you do this for the last half hour while you talked to some random second year in his dorm.

"It looks almost like Donovan is doing it on purpose," Lilia said with a smirk, nodding at the second year in question. At a second glance, Sebek saw Lilia was right. It looked like he was trying to back you into it.

Sebek scowled. "It doesn't matter. It's a silly human tradition of little substance."

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard you laugh loudly at something Donovan had said.

Without a word he marched over to you.

"Human!"

"Oh, hey Sebek!" You turned with a smile. "What's-"

He wrapped a single arm around your waist, and pulled you close as he kissed you under the mistletoe.

He kept the arm around your waist as he turned to Donovan, who had a rather ugly scowl on his face.

"EXCUSE ME DONOVAN, MY HUMAN AND I ARE GOING TO HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION IN THE HALLWAY CLOSET!" Sebek said, louder than even he intended. But your flustered expression, and Donovan's rage, as he walked you to the hallway, made it all worth it.

....

Tag list- @lleoll @shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0

7K notes · View notes

ohhiimweird · 11 months ago

Text

LMK Characters Under the Mistletoe with their Crush

Hello, I'm back again. Winter break is underway for me so expect me to post a lot more yippee!

Characters: Sun Wukong, Macaque, MK, Mei, Redson

Reader Pronouns: they/them (gender neutral)

Content warnings: None!

Sun Wukong

"what's a mistletoe?"

you have to explain what it is to him

he's not embarrassed at first until you mention the kissing

then he's a little frazzled

he still wants to kiss you really bad

but you beat him to it and kiss him on the cheek

bro takes the opportunity to kiss you fully on the lips he has no shame

Macaque

he's only a little bit more aware of what a mistletoe is than Wukong

he's been dead for awhile cut him some slack

he acts cool about the kissing part but is panicking on the inside

"ohoho, what's this?"

you kiss him on the cheek

he says that you missed then he kisses you on the lips

it's a quick one though. he's not one for pda after all

anyways he's like "okay, stay calm. you just kissed them." you're like "LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO"

he blushes a little bit

"wow, uh, fancy seeing you here?"

he's averting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly

he's brave enough to kiss you on the cheek but not much else

so when you give him a peck on the lips...

MK.exe starts glitching

he's simping hard right now lol

Mei

she's a bit more confident when approaching this

it takes her a bit to notice the mistletoe tho

she feels you kissing her cheek and she's like 'ayo?'

then she sees the mistletoe and blushes a little bit

I mean, her crushed just kissed her y'know?

she calms down and she kisses you on the lips

now it's your turn to blush

Redson

he isn't aware of many human customs since he's a demon

"I would never partake in such a idiotic tradition"

bro changes his mind when you kiss him on the cheek

he almost sets the mistletoe on fire tho RIP

he triest his best to hide the fact that he's incredibly flustered

it doesn't work lol

it's worse when you kiss him on the lips

but hey, you're dating to yippeee

#lmk #lmk x reader #lego monkiekid #lego monkiekid x reader #lmk mk #lmk mk x reader #mk x reader #lmk mei #lmk mei x reader #redson #redson x reader #macaque #macaque x reader #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader

1K notes · View notes

nothomegal · 11 months ago

Note

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE (or at least where I live bc timezones) and I would like to gove Pyramid Head smoochies under mistletoe pls 😌

Aww I was having this idea too! And since it's Christmas allow me to bless you with a drawing!...

...And a lilttle one-shot!

"Mistletoe"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warning: suggestive implications by the end, but mostly fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Christmas was always a funny holiday for (Y/N). Either because they never truly felt connected to it or because they haven't felt the 'magic of Christmas' since childhood. Don't get me wrong, they would still put some decorations when they could, but ever since they came to Silent Hill such tradition was lost.

Not like they mind it too much though, they already have the absolute best gift and company they could ever ask for! Just tell me, who in their right mind would be upset about having a nearly 8ft tall demi-god creature as your forever partner? You have to be chronically insane to turn down such blessing!

And speaking of the creature, (Y/N)'s daydream was interrupted when a large hand curled around their arm and stopped them. They shoot a curious glance to their lover, who was already looking at whatever got his attention.

Right above them, placed on the old metallic door frame with, what they suppose is duct tape, were hangign a bunch of oddly shaped pieces of paper. Some pieces where green, others painted green, and all of them where kept together with a piece of damaged red cloth that was tied as a bow.

(Y/N) stares at that weird construction with furrowed brows, really trying to grasp what the hell they're looking at. Pyra was still as well, but his head tilted towards his human as he curiously observes their reaction. Seems like they too have no clue what is this-.

However, (Y/N) manages to make out the shape of it and instantly burst out laughing.

—"No way! No way someone actually made one!"— you say between laughs.

The beast simply observes them, letting out a low wondering rumble. Is that another pointless joke humans have? (Y/N) is laughing hard so it must be something very funny or very stupid.

After the laughter had ceased, (Y/N) takes a look at their monster and suddenly remember what he wanted in the first place. Oh, right. They were supposed to explain what is that.

—"Okay, okay."— you say between giggles as you point at the object. —"That thing over there is supposed to be a mistletoe. Remember when I told you about Christmas and how people decorate that one fuzzy tree? Well, this thing is also kinda a Christmas tradition. People hang it somewhere high and when two step or pass underneath it, they have to kiss."—

While (Y/N) explains, Pyra listens to them carefully. But the second they mention the kiss part, the air between them shifts and becomes... Odd. And Pyra himself still, way too still.

(Y/N) of course feels the change, and is quick to start clarifying.

—"But of course, it's optional. It's not like you're forced to kiss anyone. If anything, I never did! So I suppose this will remain as a silly tradition some-"—

Their speech is replaced by a tiny gasp when the monster suddenly grabs their jaw, gently lifting and moving their gaze where he needed. Their eyes narrow slightly when they noticed a tongue peek out from his helmet and slowly, almost shily, wiggle towards their face.

—"Aww. What a polite guy."— you chuckle as a little blush creeps on your cheeks. —"Well of course I'll give you a kiss."—

Ever since they introduced this new method of showing affection, it wasn't rare to witness Pyra ask for a 'kiss' once or twice. It's kinda funny to see how shy he gets, always taking it slow and giving them enough time to stop or pull away. Do they do that? Nuh-uh! Do they think it feels gross? Weird, yes. But (Y/N) is deranged so it's fine.

The pink muscle soon presses against their lips, and they respond by giving it a kiss while holding it in place gently, totally unbothered by its wet and slippery texture. They could feel Pyra practically melt into the gesture, he does it every time. It's small, but is the closest they can get to an actual kiss, and the intimacy and specialness of it seems to get the beast to his very core.

After some second, when (Y/N) attempts to lean back, a pair of big arms gets a hold around them, cementing them in place completely and pulling them closer to the monster. The said beast lets out a low menacing growl as his tongue licks their cheek and part of the jaw. The message was clear...

M̵̞͔̥̏̌̊o̷͕͒̓͑ͅŗ̷̭̝̓̾e̵̠̤͓̅̒̋.

He wanted more.

Despite the apparentaly hostile growls, (Y/N) showed no intimidation and simply chuckled as they roll their eyes.

—"Someone is feeling frisky, huh?"—

Another, and a bit louder, growl resonated from inside the beast's helmet. His grip around them tightening and the tongue sliding along their lips, almost begging for them to kiss it again.

—"Calm down tiger. We both know if we continue you'll get too carried on."— you coo, sliding one of your hands along one side of his helmet.

He groans with certain displeasure, but his grip soon losens as he slightly tilts his head into their touch, yet he doesn't let go neither.

—"If you're really feeling like doing it then let's go somewhere else. You don't want anyone to see me naked, don't you?"—

This time their answer is no longuer a growl or a sound, but the same pair of big hands lighting their form up and swinging over a broad shoulder.

Before starting to walk however, the monster reaches up and snatches the little paper mistletoe. (Y/N) of course notices that and can't hold back the little laugh.

—"Well well, see you really liked this particular tradition."—

They get no response as the monster resumes his walking. But the small squeeze on one of their thighs was enough proof to know that they got it right and it won't be the last time the see the little item.

After this little interaction, and probably after what's about to come, (Y/N) doubts to ever be able to feel that magic of Christmas again.

However, they realize that they still experienced something new. The magic of the mistletoe.

Is that an actual thing? Who knows.

But it worked on Pyra so it must be a thing, right?

It worked well after all.

...Too well.

#nothomegal ask reply #nothomegal art #nothomegal fic #nothomegal oneshot #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x y/n #gn y/n #gn reader #happy holidays y'all ❤️#slasher fluff

682 notes · View notes

dance-on-the-moonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Mistletoe // LN4

summary: Lando keeps trying to get you to walk under the mistletoe so he could kiss you. You get fed up at his failed attempts so you take the matters in your own hands.

warnings:

Lando really liked you. He keeps on leaving subtle hints through everything you do, yet you never notice. You mostly just brush it off by him being him even though you never noticed the same behaviour around his other girl friends.

With Christmas nearing, you kept on dragging him through all your chores (and he went happily with you).

The first time he got the idea to get you under the mistletoe was when you took him with you to the mall for decoration shopping.

You were talking about which stores you need to go to and what you need to buy there, when he spotted a couple to your left walk under the mistletoe. He watched them smile shyly and give each other a quick kiss, before sauntering off giggling like school kids.

"... that's where I need to get the ribbons for kitchen counters.", he hummed, so you know he's listening to you before tugging on your hand to walk in the direction of the mistletoe. But you tugged him back, rooted in place. "Where are you going? The store is that way!", you point in the opposite direction. "Did you even listen to me?", you ask him, feigning annoyance. "Yeah sorry, I just got distracted." You smile at him as he walks in the right direction. "So ribbons for kitchen counters? Do we really need that?"

The second time was when you went to find a Christmas tree. The mistletoe was tied right at the entrance of the park, there wasn't a chance you wouldn't walk under it. He felt giddy and nervous just by thinking about it.

He let go of your hand to rub them on his pants, so they wouldn't be sweaty (even though he had gloves on). But that was his first mistake as you clapped your hands running to a tree you spotted. "Come on!! I saw the perfect tree!", you yell excitedly running off around the entrance. Never even making it under the mistletoe. Lando huffs and watches the white puff of smoke leave his mouth. He just prayed that the exit has a mistletoe, too (It didn't).

Lando was getting frustrated by the minute. Everytime you managed to avoid walking under the mistletoe. As if you knew he wanted that and it scared him a bit. He talked with his friends none giving any good advice.

So when you got home after shopping all day, again, he couldn't wait for you two to get to your apartment. He just hoped the mistletoe he put above it, didn't fall.

"This is so fucking heavy.", you complain as you carry two bags in each hand. He looks at you, eyebrows raised. You chuckle and smile sheepishly at him when you look at him, and the three boxes in his hands.

That's what he didn't count on, all the stuff you'd have to carry. You were unlocking the door as his eyes travelled up, to see the mistletoe still hanging, right above you. But he couldn't do anything from the boxes in his hands. He sighed and shuffled inside when you open the door.

It was the day before Christmas Eve as Lando sat on the kitchen island and patiently watched you do the last decorations. He was helping at first but you sent him to sit down, since he kept on putting things on wrong places.

He was absent-mindedly twirling a straw in his drink when he heard you call out his name. He immediately jumped down and walked up to you.

"How can I be of service?", he joked, as he looked at the ladder you brought with you. "I need your help to put a - uhh... a decoration up there." you point up at the archway. He nods his head, observing you pink cheeks.

"Okay, I just need you to hold the ladder for me." You say taking a deep breath. "I thought you wanted me to put it up?" he scrunches his nose adorably and you chuckle. "I said I need help. Now, come on, hold it. Don't let me fall.", you joke. And miss the way he whispers "Never."

He doesn't pay attention on what the Christmas decoration is, only on holding the ladder for you, and looking at your ass.

When you're done, you climb down and clap your hands smiling up at him. "So, what do you think?", you ask him looking up at the same time he does too. A mistletoe hung above you, just like the one at the mall, the one at the park and the one in front of your door.

You watch as he blushes, and looks down at his shoes. "It's a... good idea.", he says, wiping his hands on his jeans, then scratching his neck as he briefly looks at your smiling face then back to the kitchen.

You can feel the nervousness and the butterflies in your stomach as he tenses his jaw.

"So..?", you bite your lip nervously and he glances back at you, his eyes dropping you your lips. "Are you going to kiss me, Lando?", you whisper and he swears he almost fainted.

"Only if you let me.", he whispers back and you smile, nodding your head slightly as he places his one hand on your waist, the other one caresses your cheek. He swipes his thumb over your lower lip, before moving it to the back of your neck as he tugs your hair a bit so you look up at him properly.

"Are you sure?", he asks and as soon as you whisper "Yes." he leans down and kisses you softly.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #f1 #formula 1 #mclaren #formula1 fanfic #lando norris smau #chirtmas lando norris

755 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 11 months ago

Note

Navy. We got to cuddle with our florist. Are we also going to cuddle with our tattoo artist? 🥺

Of course, nonnie.

Traditions and Innovation

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to kiss you under the mistletoe, but it doesn't happen in the traditional sense.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Kissing, humor, tension, teasing, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

Previous Part of AU: Rules and Chaos

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I'm only capable of ficlets lately, but enjoy some Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“My poor, shivering Sugar. Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up in no time,” Bucky said as he curled a hand around your hip, feeling him smile when he brushed a kiss against your temple. “It’s a tough job, but I’ll do it.”

An icy breeze crept into your bones through your coat when you rushed over to the tattoo parlor minutes ago, earning a sympathetic gaze from Jake when you walked through the door. It was one of the coldest days you could remember and you couldn’t get rid of the chill until Bucky offered to cuddle with you on the couch in the break room. You weren’t about to turn down his generous offer.

Especially since the guys made the room bright and cozy for the holidays with twinkling lights.

“Yeah, I really had to twist your arm to snuggle with me,” you teased, your heart thudding as you tilted your head back and let his lips skim along the column of your neck. It was almost criminal how soft his kisses were. “And I have no doubt in your abilities, Hottie.”

The man was built like a furnace, his firm body seeping warmth into yours as he held you in his embrace. Heat continued to pulse through your veins as he chuckled low and deep. “If you ever doubt my abilities in anything, I won’t hesitate to tie you to my bed and prove you wrong,” he promised, his voice even lower as it slipped into something more intimate.

You shivered for an entirely different reason now, threading your fingers through his hair and gripping them before his mouth could reach your chest. It earned you a throaty groan in response, one that nearly had you crawling in his lap. Somehow you managed to stop yourself.

“We can’t get too carried away,” you said, as much as you wanted to. You had to get back to your shop and he had a client coming in for a touch-up shortly. “Don’t give me that look,” you half begged, trying to ignore how your insides clenched when he lifted his head and gave you a glimpse of his darkened eyes.

How could you ever feel cold under that heated stare?

“But I want some sugar, Sugar,” he purred, one hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. Warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in. “Just a little taste.”

Oh, how I want him to properly taste me. Make me see stars. Make me cry his name.

It was almost chaste in the beginning, his lips gently brushing against yours before he pulled back and leaned back in. Your lips parted first, silently begging for him to deepen the kiss. He still had his hand on your chin as he took his time, as if he truly wanted to taste what your mouth had to offer.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured when he pulled back, his gaze dropping to your lips as you caught your breath. That look alone made your toes curl. “I should put mistletoe everywhere just to find more excuses to kiss you.”

“That would be a first for me,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“What would be a first?”

“Being kissed under mistletoe. I’ve never done that,” you admitted with heated cheeks though there was no need to feel embarrassed.

Bucky pulled back a bit further as his eyebrows shot up, taking some of the warmth with him. “No one has kissed you under mistletoe? How is that possible?”

“I guess I haven’t had the opportunity,” you answered carefully.

A lump formed in your throat when he continued to stare and you weren’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because he treated you as if the sun, moon, and stars hung in the sky because of you. Not everyone saw you as anything special the way he did.

No one ever loved or cared enough about you before to try.

He slowly shook his head as if he refused to believe you. “Well, I’m fixing that right now,” he said more to himself than you before he gently put his hands over your ears. “Jensen!”

You smiled at his muffled shout before he put his arms back around you. His voice carried when he wanted it to. “Yeah?” Jake yelled back before he rushed to the break room and stuck his head in through the doorway. “What’s up?”

“Do we have any mistletoe around here?” Bucky asked.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” You whispered.

“Finding mistletoe before you go back to the shop. And, no, I’m not letting you leave until we find some,” he whispered back, waiting for Jake to give him an answer.

“I don’t think we do. Steve mentioned buying some,” he said, fiddling with his glasses before his eyes widened. “Wait! I think Hal has something that should work.”

“Of fucking course, he does,” your boyfriend mumbled affectionately as Jake went to get him.

“You really don’t have to do anything, Bucky,” you told him, turning his face back toward you. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he wanted to. He was a romantic at heart and you secretly enjoyed that he wanted to find some. “I appreciate it, but we don’t need something hanging over our heads for us to kiss.”

“I know we don’t, but maybe I want to give you that opportunity to have that kind of kiss,” he said. Your mouth went dry at his heart stopping smile. “If you’ll indulge me.”

You felt the weight of his tender gaze as you smiled, your eyes burning slightly from unshed tears. Thinking back on dating jerks like Richard, you were thankful for the experience because it showed you how guys should treat you and that you wouldn’t settle for less than what you deserved. It began with loving yourself.

“There’s no one else I’d rather kiss,” you said, resting your hand on his chest before Hal strolled into the room.

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, bringing attention to his hair as he ran a hand through it. As if he didn't turn enough heads on a normal day, he decided to dye his hair red and half green for the holiday season. “I heard you were looking for some mistletoe.”

“Yeah, you have any?” Bucky asked impatiently.

Hal chuckled and lifted his shirt slightly, giving you both a quick flash of his abs. “As a matter of fact…”

“Oh, my god,” you giggled, covering your mouth as Hal gestured to his belt. The hand painted buckle had mistletoe painted on it with “KISS ME” written underneath. “That’s…”

You stole a glance at Bucky and you swore you saw his left eye twitch. He likely had a sweet plan in his mind and got this instead. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s mistletoe. Just like you asked for. I mean, it’s a form of mistletoe. I have a date tonight with Angel,” Hal explained, pointing at it again. You wanted to wish him good luck with his date, but you couldn’t stop giggling. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here, get on your knees, and start kissing. Or should I go over there?”

There was no mistaking your boyfriend’s eye twitch this time as your laughter died down. “I’m not kissing my girlfriend by your crotch. I’d sooner choke you with that belt.”

Hal seemed to consider it before he quickly shook his head. “Nah. I tried the choking thing once. Not really for me,” he said, smirking mischievously as he looked between the two of you. “But if she’s into that-”

Well...

You grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could launch himself at his employee and friend, who held his hands up in surrender. “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you take the belt off and hold it over our heads,” You suggested, hoping to appease your boyfriend as Hal unbuckled his belt with a shrug and removed it from the loops. “It still counts.”

“Not exactly traditional,” Bucky muttered under his breath before you brushed a finger along his chiseled jaw.

“We’ll call this innovative,” you said with a sweet and sincere smile. One you knew he couldn't resist.

“Innovative, huh?” Bucky asked, pulling you close as Hal waltzed over with an amused smile and dangled the belt above your heads.

“Yes,” you smiled as he framed your face. “So kiss me, please.”

Bucky held your cheeks with such care that it sent your heart soaring. This kiss was softer than before, yet full of promise and hunger, deep and thorough. He stole the breath from your lungs until you were left dizzy and wanting more.

It was the kind of kiss that warmed you up all over, like a flame no one could ever put out.

He pulled away first, slowly, but he seemed just as affected as you felt since he let out a shuddering breath and didn't let you go. “Fuck,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face.

You had to close your eyes again to center yourself, still smiling. “Yeah. Fuck,” you whispered back before Hal cleared his throat.

“I really do adore you two lovebirds,” he began, stepping back to put his belt back on as you opened your eyes. Bucky didn't bother to look his way, only gazing at you. “But before you round the next base, Andy’s still talking about replacing the couch from the last time.”

He'll change his tune if he ever fools around in here with Sunny.

“Thank you, Hal,” you said, bringing a hand to Bucky’s cheek before he could grumble. Your touch was enough to soften his demeanor. “And thank you for my mistletoe kiss. I'll never forget it.”

Just like your first date that didn't go as planned, it made it all the more special.

Bucky smiled before he helped you both get to your feet. You had to get back to work. “I'm glad you liked it, but I’m getting us some actual mistletoe later and putting it all over our apartments. Bedrooms included.”

“Is that innovative?”

“Yeah, it is,” he smiled, sneaking in one more tender kiss before you had to go.

As long as Bucky would be the one to kiss you, he could put up mistletoe wherever he wanted.

These two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

690 notes · View notes

lavendermunson · 11 months ago

Text

i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson

from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm

summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!

cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!

w.c 1.7k

“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”

You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today. All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.

“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”

“Eddie please, just stop it”

“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”

He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.

“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”

He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night.

“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one”

Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you.

“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet”

You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.

Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this.

You wish the floor could swallow you whole.

Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade.

You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice.

He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.

Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him.

You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.

He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.

For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.

But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.

��What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends”

“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”

You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.

You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.

The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.

The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.

“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask.

“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.

“I pass”

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated.

“I don’t think so”

His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?

“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think. “Let’s forget about it”

You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you.

When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.

“Wait”

You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.

Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.

If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe.

He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.

You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man.

Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?

He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.

“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment.

But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin.

“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.

Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.

His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?

It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.

“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!”

“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.

“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly.

“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.

“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down.

“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.

“Anything you want, princess”

He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.

You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.

“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.

You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me 🎄

544 notes · View notes

cranberrymoons · 11 months ago

Text

under the mistletoe

prompt: idiots to lovers (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: m word count: 957 words tags: getting together, making out, mild cw for a little bit of outdated language about bisexuality (referring to steve as "part gay")

welcome to Day 8 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“Like, you hear how fucking stupid that sounds, don’t you?”

Steve shuts the cash drawer with his hip. “It’s not stupid, it’s just –” He folds his arms over his chest. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Robin narrows her eyes. “What, because I’m just so inexperienced?”

“No, because we’re –” He lets out a frustrated breath. “We’re guys. We’re both guys, there’s nothing going on there.”

Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs, and she opens her mouth, and he holds up his hands.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly. “Just – we’re friends. That’s it.”

“Making out with him while you’re drunk at a party is the opposite of nothing going on.” She shakes him, gripping his arm tight enough that it actually hurts a little. “Oh my god.”

“I told you, it’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “You weren’t even there. It was like, a joke kiss. It was nothing.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Did you or did you not stick your tongue down his throat?”

He feels his face heat immediately. “Yeah, but there was like – mistletoe and shit, you’ve got to –”

“God, and look at you.” She lets him go in favor of sweeping the rest of the returns into the bin to be dealt with in the morning. “You actually like him.”

“I don’t,” Steve says. Then, “I mean – he’s Eddie! He’s our friend, of course I like him.”

She rolls her eyes, shoving the rest of her things into her bag and hiking it up on her shoulder.

“Whatever, dude,” she says. “I swear to god, if you don’t make out with him for real by Christmas, I’m going to do it for you.”

He makes a face. “Please don’t.”

---

It’s a week later when they talk about it again.

He’s the one who actually brings it up this time, because everyone’s over at his house for a movie night, and Steve catches Robin in the kitchen, wraps his hand around her wrist and drags her closer to duck their heads together while everyone else carries snacks into the living room.

“Okay, did you see that?”

She widens her eyes. “By that , do you mean the fact that he just touched your actual ass?” she asks. “Yeah, Steve. I saw it.”

He motions for her to keep it down, darting a look at the doorway to make sure no one’s listening.

“He didn’t touch my ass, it was more like –” He motions behind himself, touching the spot where Eddie’s hand had rested, just for a minute. “Like my back. Right here. Right?”

She shakes her head, giving him a look like she can’t believe he’s not getting it. Which, fair enough. He’d probably be doing the same if things were flipped, but they’re not , and –

“It was here,” she says, reaching around to touch him, hand sliding down until he jerks away.

“Don’t touch my ass.”

She gives him a look. “See?”

He stares at her for a beat, taking a measured breath as he turns it over in his head.

“What do I do about it?”

She makes a face. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“So are you, apparently,” she says. “At least partially, if you want Eddie Munson to touch your ass again.”

He motions again for her to be quiet, casting another desperate look in the direction of the living room.

“Come on,” he hisses. “Just – what do I do?”

She sighs. “Kiss him again,” she says. “And not a joke this time.” She picks up her bowl of popcorn and narrows her eyes at him. “And then pay me a thousand dollars for being right.”

---

And he does. Well – not the thousand dollars, but –

A few nights later, it’s just the two of them, him on the couch in Eddie’s new apartment with Eddie’s lips trailing a searing line up his throat as he arches off the cushions and presses himself closer, hands shaking as he pushes them back through Eddie’s hair.

He gasps, angling Eddie’s head so he can lick into his mouth, and he loses himself in the kiss for a moment, in the way Eddie’s hands drag over his skin, in the warm glow of the TV playing in the background. But it’s something twinkly and holiday-y, and it jogs Steve’s memory enough that he sucks in a breath, pulling away to speak, holding Eddie back gently when he chases after his mouth.

“Just –” He gets drawn into another kiss, eyes fluttering shut. “One thing.”

Eddie hums, grazing light fingers up his side. “What could possibly be more important than this?”

“Nothing, just…” Eddie rolls his hips down, and it makes Steve’s breath stutter in his chest, gasping as he feels the hard line of Eddie settle against him. “Just –” Another kiss. And another. And – “Just don’t tell Robin until next week. After Christmas.”

This actually does cause Eddie to pull away, and he lets out a confused laugh.

His lips are swollen and slick, and his hair is mussed up from Steve’s fingers, and Steve can’t help but drag him back down, groaning into the kiss as he gets lost again. After a moment, Eddie pulls away to ask, staying close enough that their lips brush together when he speaks.

“Do I even want to know why?”

“No,” Steve says. He drags his teeth over Eddie’s bottom lip. “Just – she was right about something. Can’t let her win, though. She wants a thousand bucks. I’m not sure.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head before dipping further down to bite at Steve’s jaw.

“You two are so weird.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic #robin buckley #stobin

673 notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 11 months ago

Text

I Think I Only Want You, Under My Mistletoe:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

3.6k words

summary: Meeting The Harrington's, an office Christmas party, seeing Steve's big, hard d- Desk. Get your mind out of the gutter. // The prompts: [mistletoe] - a playful or romantic kiss under a mistletoe // [BEND OVER] - one muse bends the other over a table/couch/etc.

warnings: THIS HAS BIG SPOILERS FOR MY SERIES WE’LL CALL IT LOVE ( #a we’ll call it love blurb // we’ll call it love masterlist) - this blurb takes place only a few short weeks after the end of chapter 5: Getting Older, and before the Epilogue. | slight description of reader worrying about her appearance/comparison and anxiety about what people think of it | slight angst with Harrington parent disapproval and judgement | alcohol consumption | SMUT: semi-public (steve's office) teasing, calling Steve Mr. Harrington and sir, illusions to unprotected PIV intercourse

day 1 of 12 days of superbly subpar writing // requested by @palmtreesx3 - thank you for requesting and continuing to encourage WCIL nonsense. Hope you love it babe! 💛

Steve: You found a dress right? You: Nah, I was thinking I’d just show up in my period sweats and that sweatshirt with the stain on it. Steve: Honey, seriously, I need confirmation. You: 🙄 You: yes steve. I got a dress. Relax.

You tossed more popcorn in your mouth, trying to squash the nerves he wasn’t making any better by harassing you for the last week about the dress.

Like it wasn’t enough to have a boyfriend after swearing off love. The boyfriend you now had after confessing all dramatic and movie-like that you were falling for the guy despite thinking he was engaged. The engagement he called off because of you, much to his parents' fury. The parents you were going to meet at this party. The party at the office he had just put his notice in to quit, again because of you.

What was there to be nervous about?

The phone next to you lit up and Robin glanced at it, and you caught the name ‘Dingus’ as she cleared her throat and locked it. Her voice strained to sound nonchalant.

“Can I see what you’re wearing to the party tomorrow?”

An annoyed huff and strangled cry left your mouth. “That’s it! I’m not going! I’m not!”

You stomped to the kitchen and poured more of the white wine they brought as Nancy failed to cover her smile, coughing over her laugh.

Robin sat up on her knees, green clay mask beginning to harden on her face, so only her bright blue eyes could convey her feelings. “Just let us see it so we can tell him he has nothing to worry about and he can relax.”

Your head shook, laughing despite being unamused. “Does he think I don’t know how to dress myself? Does he think I’m gonna actually show up in something disgusting? Does he think-”

“You haven’t met the Harrington's.” Robin interrupts, her voice far more serious than you cared for.

Stomping off to the bathroom, you scrubbed the mask off your face, splashing cold water against your cheeks and tried to ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach. She’s right. You hadn’t met the Harrington's. You’d heard all about them, and you weren’t sure you’d like to meet them under normal circumstances, let alone these complicated, messy ones.

“Are you-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” You interrupted Robin’s call down the hallway, closing the door to your room and stared at the wine colored fabric with your arms crossed.

Slipping it on with resentment and nausea fluttering throughout your body, you ran your hands over the velvet material, tilting your head to the side in the mirror as you exhaled. Turning on your heel before you could find all the ways you hated the dress you once were confident about, you stepped out of the room. Nancy and Robin’s mouths dropped in tandem when you stepped into the light of the living room.

“What?” You squeaked, hands crossing and curling around your waist. “It’s bad? Is the slit okay? I thought…”

Robin started typing on her phone furiously and Nancy held up her hand as you trailed off, “You are so good. Furthest thing from bad. Don’t worry.”

Your shoulders released their tension, but the crease over your brows deepened as Robin smirked down at her phone. “What are you telling him?”

She hummed, “Don’t worry about it. Relax.”

Relax.

Easy for her to say.

You: steven. You did NOT send a limo. Steve: 🤷🏻‍♂️ You: you think you’re so cute, huh? Steve: I think *you* think I’m cute.

He clicked at his desktop more, glasses falling down the slope of his nose as he tried to finish work. He felt awful that not only were you nervous, but he was already here, you had to arrive alone, and he still hadn’t seen your dress. His phone vibrated and he looked down to see a picture of you, in the back of the limo, holding up an entire bottle of champagne just for you, and much to his dismay, a coat covering your dress.

You: you know what won’t be cute? When I down this entire bottle of champagne and puke from nerves all over your parents six thousand dollar shoes harrington Steve: they’ll buy new ones You: 🙄

He continued to work on his computer, people calling into his office and asking if he was coming downstairs to which he nodded and said soon to, until the lights started to turn off and it was just him. Hand running through his hair as he flipped back to his conversation with Robin last night.

Robin: DUDE Robin: You’re gonna go into cardiac arrest when you see her Steve: you’re not helping Robin: your mom will love her, you know she will Robin: Well, eventually. I did. Sort of. Steve: Again, NOT helping Robin: honestly your dad is gonna try to sleep with her Steve: you’re sick, you know that? Robin: The way she looks in this dress is sick steve Robin: ILLEGAL Robin: wow. You have wonderful taste in women Steve: YOU HAVE TO STOP

Despite already having been to Steve’s office, the sight of it tonight still has your jaw going slack. When the limo stops and the door opens for you, the vast and towering skyscraper shimmering with snow swirling around it seems more intimidating than ever. As you push into the warm lobby, the two story Christmas tree steals your breath further. Decorated in golds, silvers, and crimson, two staircases curling on either side of it.

You make your way up slowly, admiring the decor, hand gliding over the banister and reeling from the noise coming out of the transformed large ballroom. The space was used for a variety of events for the company, anywhere from big convention type conferences, parties, presentations and more. Steve had told you they’d put in a bar, a dance floor and stage, claiming this year’s Christmas party to be the biggest yet.

Lucky you.

The room overflows out into the hallway with loud chatter, a jazz band playing familiar holiday songs. Boisterous laughter exploding each time the doors open and close, no doubt louder and more easily flowing from the contents inside the glasses you can hear clinking together and the pops of corks.

You know you’re supposed to text Steve that you’re here, he said he’d come out and walk in with you, that he had been pulled in by his soon to be former boss. The thought of just going in by yourself is somehow easier though. Perhaps no one will even spare you a glance, not when you don’t have him next to you.

The room is even louder once you’re inside. The air smells like leather and cigars, champagne and scotch, stiff and overpowering floral perfume. It drips in luxury - mahogany tables, three Christmas trees, silver and gold candlesticks over burgundy table runners.

Your feet carry you inside cautiously, and you spot the bar on the other side of the room and head towards it, ignoring the heat of strangers' stares. Feeling like every woman around you is eyeing you from head to toe, their judgment pushing up their chins and noses, rolling their eyes. Their dresses far more expensive and their makeup and hair done professionally. This was worse than the first time you went to Steve’s apartment.

This was a big, big, massive mistake.

When you make it to the bar, you order champagne that you can see already being prepped, hoping it’s comped or on the lower end, mentally preparing yourself for Steve insisting he’ll pay for it despite the zeros. The sharp bubbles slip over your tongue as you try to sip it slowly, eyes roaming over the crowd in search of Steve.

“You look lost,” a deep voice comes from beside you.

Turning, you find a man in a three piece navy suit that costs more than your rent. His hand holds a glass with three fingers of amber liquid over ice, a silver watch on his wrist that glints. His other is deep in his pocket, his posture nonchalant and lazy yet oozing with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and how to get it. His jawline is familiar, clean and sharp, leading to soft brown eyes that roam over your face. He has two freckles next to his ear, and dark brown hair that’s just starting to gray.

Your swallow is louder than the saxophone solo coming from the far end of the room as he removes his hand from his pocket, extends it to you, and says, “John.”

Fuck.

“Mr. Harrington, it’s so nice to meet you,” your voice is calm, hand shaking his firmly while the inside of you screams, alarms inside your brain going off, shouting abort, abort, abort!

His lips twitch in a far too familiar way and he cocks his head, “Now, how do you know me and I don’t know you?”

You’re certain that everyone in this room knows who John Harrington is, and he knows it too. You squash the nerves inside of you, taking a deep breath.

“Well, uh, Mr. Harrington-”

“Please, call me John.” He smiles, encouraging, and you nod, plastering on a bigger smile.

“Right, Jo-John. I’m-”

“Honey, you don’t recognize her?” A softer, sweeter voice comes up behind him and her warm smile makes a little bit of your nerves disappear. That is until she says your name, and then:

“This is Steve’s friend.”

Friend. Friend. Friend.

“Oh!” He snaps. “I forgot he decided to bring someone after all.”

Your lungs deflate, your stomach churns, you hear the way your heart cracks, chest aching from the pressure.

Steve’s mom sticks out her hand, “Vivian.”

Introducing yourself far less confident, voice barely a murmur, cracking as you push out, “It’s really nice to meet both of you.”

“So,” John has a cigar in his mouth now, patting at his pockets for a lighter, frowning when Vivian takes it from between his lips, but he continues, “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you take a larger gulp of champagne before finishing, “I’m an assistant right now. But I hope to-”

“I’m sorry, what?” John interrupts you, his brows furrowed. Mrs. Harrington’s hand squeezes his bicep sharply, a smile plastered on her face. But he keeps going, “An assistant? How old are you? Your parents can’t be thrilled with-”

“Dad.” His voice is ice, a protective hand on the small of your back, appearing out of nowhere.

You’ve heard Steve’s end of phone conversations with his dad, you’ve seen the way the people in this room acted just passing by him in the last few minutes, so you are shocked beyond belief when John Harrington closes his mouth at Steve’s singular warning.

Vivian’s smile relaxes, her voice warm and syrupy, “Hi honey.” She hugs him and he only returns the gesture with one arm, the other keeping a firm grip on your waist as she pulls away and smiles, “We were just getting to know your friend-”

“Girlfriend,” he corrects quickly, strong, and nods at the bartender. You watch as the man behind the wood bar grabs a bottle from the very top shelf, pours two fingers, neat unlike his father, and Steve grabs the drink he didn’t have to order. Despite the last few moments, the tone and action has your thighs pushing together and you clear your throat as Steve’s thumb swipes over your spine.

Vivian smiles, quietly correcting, “Right, girlfriend. She was just telling us what she does, right sweetheart?” Vivian pinches John’s arm again and he straightens, forcing a closed-lip smile. “So, an assistant, that’s…exciting?”

“I think we’re gonna go dance actually, we’ll talk to you later.” Steve’s voice leaves no room for argument.

He starts to pull you away and you call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you.”

Steve pulls you through the crowd, his shoulders tense and the scotch tipped to his lips in one sip. He sets the empty glass on a passing tray, grabbing your champagne flute from your fingers as well. He stops in the shadow of one of the trees, his hands finding both of yours as he turns.

“Honey, I think we have a real problem.”

Your heart and stomach drop even more, voice frail and small as you ask, “We do?”

He nods, face solemn, though his lips seem to be fighting a smile as sighs, “I’m afraid I can’t let you out of my sight all night in a dress like this.”

Relaxation floods over your veins, soothing your nerves as it feels like you finally exhale a breath you’ve been holding since last night. Still a little frazzled from the interaction, but a smile twitches your lips up slightly, forcing a light tone.

“It’s okay? Up to the Harrington standards despite the girl inside it failing miserably?”

Steve hums, leaning in close, spice and stinging scotch on his breath as his nose traces yours. “I think the dress and the girl surpass all Harrington standards. They rearrange the meaning of the word babe.”

Your eyes roll, but your shoulders hunch again, hands smoothing over the lapels of his tux. “That’s a nice sentiment Mr. Harrington, but I think your parents would disagree on the matter.”

Steve’s eyes flash at the use of Mr. Harrington and your eyebrows raise, curious if it’s the authority of the name or the potential of you being a missus, but he’s too quick for you to investigate, bold and something in his eyes hungry. “Fuck my parents and their obnoxious standards. Every other person in this room wants to be you or be inside of you.”

“Steve.” Your head ducks at the forward compliment, “God, how much of that scotch have you had already?”

“First glass.” His lips part, tongue licking over his top lip as he smirks, “I think you liked it though.”

“The comment or the way you ordered the drink?”

Steve, breathes into your lips as you tilt easily for him, mouth parting as he says, “Both.”

His hands press to your spine, a barely there kiss, when his name is called. He sighs, spinning to shake someone’s hand. The rest of the evening is spent with men clapping on his back and saying they’ll miss him. He holds your hand as he introduces you to co-workers he seems to genuinely like, flagging down servers and getting you glasses of champagne before they’re empty. Shushing you and kissing your temple when you ask how much it is. Maybe it’s the bubbles in your system, the pink flush to Steve’s cheeks when he stares at you, your name on his lips when he introduces you as his girlfriend, but the interaction with John and Vivian is long forgotten.

All you can think about now, is how tonight has shown you a side of Steve you hadn’t seen before, and he looks good. He holds his drink that keeps being refilled without being ordered, slipping bills in waiters hands almost imperceptibly, their quiet ‘thank you Mr. Harrington.’ even more so if you weren’t listening. His suit is tailored to his body nicely, pieces of his hair falling over his forehead when he laughs in a charming and confident way. Steve is also handsy, and has been since he pulled you away from his parents. Squeezing your hip, running up your spine in the keyhole along it, pads of his fingers following the straps that hang off your shoulders back and forth, back and forth. Each touch of his skin to yours sparking like frayed wires.

You excuse yourself quietly in the middle of a conversation about trading and something or other you can’t be bothered to listen to and Steve grabs your wrist, cocking his head in a silent question. You call out a little too loudly, maybe a little too flirty, “I’ll be right back, Mr. Harrington.”

The men around him smirk into their glasses and Steve watches you walk away, the color long gone from his eyes as his pupils take over. You feel the presence of his stare on your back as you make your way to the bar, only turning around when you have another glass in your hand.

Steve’s still across the room, and you watch the path his eyes take over your body, heat rising to the surface of your skin in their trail like he’s physically touching you. He tracks you as you make your way to the exit, starting on your ankle, up your calf, then thigh. You’re almost able to feel his fingers sliding over the velvet, tracing the slit that exposes the skin. The cinch of merlot fabric on your hips and the way his hands would pause there and squeeze. You take another sip as they travel over the curve of your sweetheart neckline that shows off maybe a little too much. Tracing the path his lips could take over the straps, up your collarbones and neck, and they finally meet your eyes.

His jaw is tight, tongue wetting his lips and gulping. His eyes narrow as you smile and you glance up at the familiar green holiday leaves hanging above the door, dropping your head and forming a fake pout.

It takes Steve less than thirty seconds to cross the room, the now empty glass on a tray as he passes yet again, freeing his hands to grab onto your waist as he leans in. You let your bottom lip slip between the two of his, teasing and innocent.

Steve groans as you bump the door open with your hip, letting your fingers linger on his chest, sighing, eyes wide, “Oh, I bet the view of the city is so beautiful on the 65th floor. You have a big, fancy office don’t you? Do you think I could see it, sir?”

He’s a man possessed. His mouth and hands haven’t stopped moving since the elevator closed. Clumsy lips and your name leaving him breathlessly as he pushed you into the railing as the floors climbed higher and higher.

“Look too good, illegal, she was right,” he mouthed at your neck, slipping lower into your cleavage enough to make you laugh.

“Wh-who was right?”

He growled something that sounded like Robin’s name which made you laugh harder, stopping only when his mouth found yours.

Steve shushed your giggles, leading you down the dark floor to the office at the corner, pulling the door closed and clicking the lock.

A brown leather couch, gold lamps, a bookshelf and a cart full of bottles of fancy liquors and sparkling glasses. A giant, wood desk with a tall leather chair. A name plate that glinted and said Steve Harrington with a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

You’d seen it before, but not on a night like tonight. Not with all the lights off, snow falling lazily across the skyline. Not with champagne in your system, not with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who had confidence and charm, who commanded respect and attention. Who stood up to his parents for you, for what he wanted.

Steve stood behind you, hands on your hips again as he led you towards the desk. Sucking a bruise under your ear, tongue soothing the way his teeth scraped down your neck. He was wrecked, gone, could cum in his slacks right then and there with the view of you in his office in this dress. Would he miss being in charge at a place like this? Sure. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he was a boss.

His voice was strong, cinnamon and scotch on his breath as he commanded, “Bend over, baby.”

You laughed, arching over his desk slowly. Looking over your shoulder as you spread your legs and pouted, “Kind of bossy, Steve, not gonna even say please?”

Steve watched under heavy lids as you kept your gaze on his fingers moving over his buckle, the way your chest moved up and down quicker as he freed himself. He knelt behind you, pushing up the fabric of your dress. Kissing up your calves, your thighs, nipping at the curve of your ass and smirking when you yelped.

He stood, hands landing on the desk on either side of yours, mouth a ghost over your ear, heaving chest pressed along your spine, and his hard erection pressing into your ass.

“You think you’re cute, huh?”

A shiver ran through you at his tone, the way his breath hit your cheek and fingers overtook yours on the desk.

You gasped out, parroting your conversation earlier, “I think you think I’m cute, Harrington.”

Steve’s nose skimmed the curve of your ear, tutting, “No more mister already? Where’d your manners go baby?”

He slid his tip against your clit, circles to it until your head fell forward in a gasp, slick coating his cock with barely anything to prompt it.

Steve finally moved lower, his lips on your neck and his tip nudging at your entrance but pausing as he laughed, smirk pressed to your skin. “You are cute, though, honey. Prettiest,” he kissed your shoulder, “Sexiest,” a kiss below your ear, “Cutest thing here tonight.”

He kept his tip pressed to your entrance, waiting until your hips squirmed, till your fingers twitched below his. Breath warm on your jaw as he kept his voice even, confident, pulling himself back up to your clit and starting all over again as he spoke.

“Know what’s even cuter though?”

You whimpered, head empty, nerves buzzing, and stomach burning as his lips brushed against your jaw with each word, head circling your clit and tapping again.

“You’re about to be begging for me.”

#twelve days of superbly subpar writing #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #we'll call it love #a we'll call it love blurb #Spotify

493 notes · View notes

fakemichaelsheen · 1 year ago

Text

-the bookshop-

aziraphale: *hanging mistletoe*

gabriel: what's that?

aziraphale, dismissive: oh, it's nothing. just a human tradition I'm rather fond of

gabriel, steps closer: cool. what happens?

aziraphale, happy: ah, well, during the holiday season, humans would hang this *gestures to the mistletoe* above people's heads and whomever was caught underneath would be required to share a kiss

gabriel, nodding: okay *pauses* why?

aziraphale, sighs: because it's fun

gabriel: I dunno. seems like it would cause a lot of problems, if you ask me

crowley: *enters*

aziraphale & gabriel: *standing underneath the mistletoe*

crowley: ...

aziraphale, frustrated: oh, crowley! you're too early. you've ruined the surprise!

crowley, looks between them, horrified: whAT?

aziraphale, confused: I'd thought you'd like it

crowley, stuttering: are you mad? this *gesturing frantically between them* is my worst nightmare! I don't want to see that!

aziraphale, rolls his eyes: no, not him *shoos gabriel away; grabs crowley and pulls him under the mistletoe* that's better

crowley, melts: oh...yeah

gabriel, smiling: I like this tradition

#*many many MANY years ago* crowley: so there's this plant...#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable chatfics

815 notes · View notes

badger-tales · 10 days ago

Text

Just Friends// G.W x Reader

a/n: somehow someway I've become a George Weasley fanfiction account

request:

hiii!!! :)))

could you do a george weasley x reader?? where its their 6th year (they’ve been best friends since their first year along with fred and lee) and they go to the yule ball together as friends and use “to avoid going through the trouble of asking other people” as an excuse(but they like each other) while fred and lee are just like “whatever” and teasing george when the readers gone. they go to the yule ball and go through the night normally but its full of fluffy interactions! and in the end they find themselves out in the courtyard having a snowball fight alone, and george throws a snowball to the readers face so the reader pretends to be hurt to get him back. so she hits him with another snowball when hes all like “are you okay??” and she runs and he chases her and eventually grabs hold of her and theyre sort of just like staring at each other , UNTILLLL!!! they see that theyre under a mistletoe and george is like “well its bad luck if we dont right??? but if you dont want to its fine” and hes all jumbling and messing up his words then the reader just kisses him??? if not that totally fine!! thank youuu🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 also i love ur fics!!!

word count: 5.3k

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone walls of the Gryffindor common room. The rich, woody scent of burning logs filled the space, mingling with the faint hint of spiced cider from a nearby group of second-years playing Exploding Snap. Laughter and chatter wove through the air, wrapping around the room like a comforting, invisible blanket. The holiday spirit pulsed through the castle, buoyed by the anticipation of the Yule Ball just days away.

George Weasley lounged on a plush armchair near the fire, one leg dangling over the armrest in a way that seemed both careless and deliberate. His unruly red hair caught the firelight, each strand illuminated in a halo of copper and gold. The light accentuated the constellation of freckles scattered across his cheeks, and a grin played at his lips—a grin that spoke of mischief, warmth, and something more undefined.

On the thick, woven rug beside him, y/n sat cross-legged, her fingers absently turning the pages of a well-worn copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. The edges of the pages were soft from use, the spine creased with the familiarity of late-night study sessions. Yet, her eyes kept straying to George, drawn to the easy way he inhabited the space, the small quirks of his expression, the way his laughter seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the common room.

A slow smile tugged at her lips when he stretched and let out a dramatic, over-the-top yawn, his hand sweeping above his head before coming to rest on his chest as if he were an actor on stage. She bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a closed-lipped smile.

“You know,” George’s voice broke through her pretense, teasing and laced with mock seriousness, “if you keep pretending to read that, I’m going to start thinking it’s more interesting than my company.” He tilted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, the soft firelight casting a shadow that deepened the blue in his gaze.

She rolled her eyes, snapping the book shut with a decisive thud. The sound resonated between them, punctuated by the warmth of the fire and the laughter that rippled in the distance.

“Maybe it is,” she countered, smirk firmly in place, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. George’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, closing the small distance between them.

“Ouch, you wound me!” he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest in a performance that was almost believable. “Tell me then, oh wise one, who are you planning to dazzle at the Yule Ball?”

A snort of laughter escaped her as she reached out, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

“Dazzle? Please. I’m just trying to make it through the night without tripping over my own feet. Anyway, I’m going with you, remember?” Her voice softened, a slight flutter in her chest as she added, “Strictly as friends, so we don’t have to deal with the hassle of finding dates.”

George’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, the flicker of something unspoken passing over his features. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment, as if weighing the distance between what they were and what they might be. Then, just as quickly, the sparkle returned, and he gave a lopsided smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Right, strictly as friends. Merlin forbid we actually try to impress anyone, eh?”

The conversation hovered on the edge of something deeper, but before she could respond, a familiar duo bounded over, their presence an explosion of energy and sound. Fred, carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, wore his signature wide grin, eyes darting between George and Y/n with a knowing glint that promised trouble.

“Strictly as friends, you say?” Fred mimicked, raising an eyebrow with an exaggerated arch that nearly disappeared into his hairline. He handed one of the mugs to Lee, who appeared behind him, chuckling.

“Convenient, isn’t it?” Lee dropped into the chair beside George, sprawling as though he had just sat down to witness the punchline of a good joke. “I’m honestly shocked neither of you’s been swooped up yet. Hogwarts’ most eligible pranksters.”

George rolled his eyes, the tension from before dissolving as he shot a pointed look at Fred. “Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, Fred, maybe someone will take pity on you and agree to go.”

Fred gasped, clutching his chest with an exaggerated display of mock indignation. “Hey! I’m a catch!” He tossed a wink at Y/n, who finally let out a laugh, the warmth of it mixing with the fire’s crackle. Lee grinned, eyes darting between them as if trying to memorize the scene.

The laughter faded, settling into a gentle hum of contentment. George’s eyes found Y/n’s again, lingering a beat longer than he intended. The soft glow of the fire reflected in both their gazes, warming the space between them. This time, neither of them looked away, a silent acknowledgment shared that neither Fred’s teasing nor Lee’s jokes could break.

The common room buzzed around them, filled with holiday anticipation, but in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of them, sitting side by side by the fire, waiting for what was to come.

The warmth of the fire had faded, replaced by the cool embrace of night as the castle succumbed to silence. The dormitory was unusually quiet, a rare lull that made every creak and rustle more pronounced. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting long, pale ribbons across the stone floor and the edges of the four-poster beds. The soft, rhythmic snores of George’s roommates filled the space, punctuating the stillness, but George remained wide awake. His eyes were fixed on the dark canopy above, the fabric appearing almost black, an empty mirror of the jumble in his mind.

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound lost in the heavy silence, and shifted restlessly. The old wooden frame of the bed groaned softly as he swung his legs over the side, letting his feet touch the cold stone floor. The chill shot through him, biting and grounding at once. George leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled like an unwanted weight.

Images of her danced behind his closed eyelids—flashes of laughter shared between classes, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke animatedly about Quidditch tactics, the exasperated smile that always appeared after his worst jokes. Each memory was a small blaze, adding warmth and confusion in equal measure to the storm in his chest.

His fingers curled into fists at the edge of the mattress as he tried to make sense of it. For so many years, it had been easy between them. Their friendship was the one constant amidst the chaos of pranks, homework, and the unpredictable pulse of Hogwarts life. But now… now, that ease felt different, weighted with things unsaid.

A soft rustle from across the room pulled George from his thoughts. Fred stirred, rolling over with a sleepy mutter before propping himself up on one elbow. In the dim moonlight, his eyes, though half-lidded, were sharp with the keen awareness that came naturally to him.

“Pulling an all-nighter, are we?” Fred’s voice, low and slightly rough with sleep, cut through the quiet and made George jolt.

“Merlin, Fred,” George muttered, trying to shake off the surprise and the embarrassment that followed. “Go back to sleep.”

Fred sat up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he squinted at his brother.

“Can’t. Not when I’ve got you brooding like a lost Puffskein in the middle of the night.” He paused, letting a knowing smirk creep onto his face. “Let me guess. Our lovely just friend, who also happens to be your date for the Ball?”

“Shut it, Fred,” George snapped, but there was no real heat in his voice, only the defensive edge of someone caught in the middle of his own tangled thoughts. He felt the flush rise to his neck, unwelcome and unavoidable. He turned his head away, the pale shaft of moonlight casting a shadow across his face.

Fred’s smirk softened, the playful edge replaced with a kind of quiet understanding that only came out when it mattered most.

“Oh, come on, George. It’s obvious. To everyone. Even Lee’s noticed,” he said, his voice low enough to keep from waking the others but laced with the weight of truth.

“Noticed what?” George’s question came out too quickly, betraying his own unease. The room seemed to shrink, the quiet pressing in, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Fred’s eyes held an unusual seriousness as he leaned forward, arms crossed.

“That you look at her like she’s a Snitch you’ll never catch,” he said, each word cutting through George’s resistance. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know you.”

The admission sat heavily on George’s chest, an iron weight pressing against his ribs. He let out a long breath, eyes drifting to the narrow window. The grounds outside glistened in the moonlight, serene and untouched, in stark contrast to the unrest inside him. “I don’t want to ruin things, Fred. What if… what if I’m just seeing something that’s not there? She’s my best mate. What if saying something makes it all… weird?”

Fred’s smirk softened into a smile, genuine and stripped of his usual bravado. “Mate, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the two of you are already weird. Weirdly close, weirdly perfect for each other. And if you don’t do anything, you’ll regret it.”

The words settled like a spell, sparking something that George hadn’t let himself name. He remembered the way she had looked at him earlier that day, when they’d joked about the Ball. The slight hesitation before she spoke, the way her smile lingered as though holding back something more. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe the risk was worth it.

But still, the doubts whispered, coiling at the back of his mind. George clenched his jaw, shoving them aside for now. He couldn’t solve it here, not in the middle of the night, not with the quiet pressing around him like a shroud. But he’d see how the Yule Ball played out. Maybe, just maybe, the moment would come when the words that stuck in his throat found their way out.

With a sigh, George lay back down, the mattress shifting under his weight. The darkness above him seemed a little less oppressive now, edged with the silver glow of moonlight and the faint hum of hope. Sleep crept in slowly, and for the first time in a while, the thought of trying felt less like a gamble and more like something he owed to himself.

And with that flicker of determination, his eyes finally closed, surrendering to the quiet.

—

The Great Hall had been transformed into a breathtaking scene that seemed to step out of a dream, a winter wonderland alive with magic. Enchanted icicles hung like delicate chandeliers from the vaulted ceiling, catching the flicker of torches and glowing softly with an otherworldly light. Snowflakes, conjured with such precision that they looked as fragile as real ones, drifted slowly down, swirling and twirling in the warm air before dissolving just above the heads of the assembled students. The tall, frost-tipped trees that framed the room sparkled with twinkling lights, their branches glistening as if they had been dipped in liquid stardust. A silvery luminescence bathed the entire hall, painting everything in shades of moonlight and frost.

The soft strains of the orchestra tuning their instruments filled the air, each note threading seamlessly through the murmured conversations and bursts of laughter that bounced off the stone walls. The festive energy buzzed with anticipation, as though even the walls of Hogwarts held their breath for the night to unfold.

Standing at the entrance, George Weasley shifted restlessly, tugging at the cuffs of his dress robes. The rich maroon fabric complemented the warmth of his hair, which he’d attempted to tame, only for it to retain its usual unruly charm. His gaze swept across the room, eyes catching on familiar faces and the glitter of gowns, until he saw her.

Descending the staircase, she was a vision that made time slow for a heartbeat. Her robes, chosen with impeccable taste, draped gracefully and shimmered with each step, catching the subtle light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. The color framed her eyes perfectly, deepening their sparkle, and George felt his breath catch as a surge of something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking gripped him. He shook it off just as she reached the bottom, his signature grin returning to mask the momentary lapse.

“Wow,” he said, his voice coming out lighter than he intended. A hint of awe clung to the word, making it more sincere. “I mean, you clean up pretty well for someone who trips over their own feet.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed, the sound warm and familiar. She reached out and pushed him playfully on the shoulder, the touch light but sending a jolt through him that he hoped didn’t show. “And you don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley. Surprising, really.”

He opened his mouth, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, when Fred and Lee appeared in a flurry of movement, carrying with them an air of exaggerated theatrics. Fred’s grin was wide, eyes alight with mischief as he clapped George hard on the shoulder, nearly making him stumble. “And here they are, the legendary duo of ‘just friends,’ about to set the dance floor ablaze with their platonic presence,” he announced, loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby students.

Lee leaned in, smirk firmly in place as he added, “Bet five Galleons they don’t make it through the night without a confession,” just loud enough for them to hear. Y/n’s eyes widened, caught between embarrassment and amusement, while George shot them a glare that failed to mask the redness creeping up his neck.

“Keep your bets to yourselves,” George retorted, though the good-natured grin that followed took the sting out of the words. He turned back to Y/n, offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “Come on, let’s show these other blokes how it’s done.”

She looped her arm through his, fingers brushing in a way that made the air between them feel electric. The dance floor was a swirl of color and light, robes sweeping over the stone with the rhythm of the music. George led her into the first song with a mixture of confidence and playful clumsiness, moving to the beat with a grin that hinted at barely contained laughter. He spun her out with dramatic flair, her robes flaring around her, before pulling her back into an exaggerated dip that earned them both a chorus of laughter.

“You do know this isn’t one of those comedic skits, right?” she teased, eyes glinting with amusement as she straightened, breathless and glowing from the dance.

“Are you sure?” George shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced toward the staff table. “Because I swear I just saw Snape attempting to smile, and if that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed, the sound bright and infectious, and for a moment, the rest of the hall seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, surrounded by a world that had taken on a soft blur, wrapped in laughter and stolen glances. And though the night was just beginning, George felt that this was the moment he would replay in his mind for days to come.

As the evening stretched on, the energy in the Great Hall shifted. The jubilant buzz of earlier dances mellowed, and the orchestra transitioned to softer, slower melodies. The enchanted icicles above shimmered in time with the gentle strains of the music, their soft glow casting an ethereal light across the room. Around them, couples drew closer, heads bent in whispered conversations, eyes reflecting the delicate twinkle of overhead lights. It felt as though the entire hall had exhaled, settling into a quiet, shared moment of intimacy.

George’s hand, warm and confident, rested lightly at Y/n’s waist, guiding her in the slow, steady movements of the dance. The contact was familiar yet startling in its effect, sending a warmth coursing up her spine that was as surprising as it was comforting. Their fingers intertwined, a natural fit that felt as if they had been meant to find each other in this way all along. The world outside their small circle seemed to blur; the music, the other dancers, the gentle snowflakes still falling from the enchanted ceiling—all of it softened into a background hum.

“So,” George said, his voice dipping to match the quiet notes around them. The usual spark of humor was still there, but something else tempered it, something that made his eyes hold hers a fraction longer. “Are we still surviving this without any major catastrophes?”

Y/n’s smile wavered, not from hesitation, but from the weight of the moment. The gentle teasing in his tone didn’t hide the question in his eyes, the one that had hovered unspoken between them for longer than either could admit. She squeezed his hand, fingers pressing into the spaces between his, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Surviving?” she echoed, her voice softening as a true smile curved her lips. “I’d say we’re doing better than that.”

The room around them seemed to still, the air heavy with something unnameable but tangible. George’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he was lost in the depth of her gaze, where laughter, comfort, and something deeper blended seamlessly. His mouth opened, words hovering on the cusp—words that he’d felt but never dared to voice.

But before he could speak, a familiar, boisterous voice pierced the fragile bubble of quiet. “Oi! Save the staring contest for later, lovebirds. Some of us are trying to dance over here!” Fred’s shout cut through the air, followed by a chorus of amused snickers and chuckles. Lee waved from the sidelines, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face.

The spell shattered in an instant, and a rush of heat flooded George’s cheeks, spreading down to his neck. Y/n’s face mirrored his, flushed and wide-eyed with the sudden attention. Laughter bubbled around them, but even as the moment dissolved, neither moved away. Their hands remained linked, the space between them unchanged despite the laughter rippling through the hall.

George looked at her, the glint of embarrassment giving way to something more resolute. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, softer this time, and the promise in his eyes was clear: Fred’s teasing hadn’t broken anything that couldn’t be rebuilt, that couldn’t grow stronger. The warmth in her returning smile told him she understood perfectly.

The orchestra shifted into another slow tune, the light above them flickering like stars, and the two of them remained standing there, sharing a look that spoke volumes in the quiet language they’d always shared. The dance resumed around them, but their moment, despite the interruption, was only just beginning.

The Great Hall had grown louder and more lively as the night went on, but George and Y/n found themselves drifting toward a quieter corner, taking breaks from the dancing to catch their breath. They sat at a table with Lee, who had been eyeing George with a look that spoke of knowing amusement. The night was rich with laughter, interrupted by soft music that played in the background and the hum of conversations.

George leaned back in his chair, the air around him still tinged with the warmth of dancing. “I’m going to get some drinks,” he said, pushing himself up. His fingers brushed against Y/n’s for just a moment—a touch so brief it felt like a secret shared between them. She looked up, her eyes following him as he made his way through the crowd.

Fred took advantage of the moment, leaning forward with his trademark mischievous grin, an eyebrow raised. “You know, he’s had that stupid look on his face every time you’ve walked into a room since first year, right?”

A sudden rush of warmth flooded Y/n’s chest, her heart pounding unexpectedly. She forced a roll of her eyes, schooling her features into a semblance of playful annoyance. “Nice try, Fred. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

Fred’s grin only widened, a sparkle of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. “Just trying to help move things along. You’ll thank me one day,” he said with a wink that made her laugh despite herself.

George returned moments later, holding two cups of punch. He settled into his seat, exhaling as he handed one to her, the corners of his lips tugging up when he noticed Fred and Lee high-fiving behind his back. He didn’t say anything, but a faint smile betrayed that he was more aware than he let on. The table fell into easy conversation, laughter spilling into the air, each teasing comment laced with warmth. What had started as a casual agreement to attend the Ball together began to feel like something more substantial—something both thrilling and a little terrifying.

Later, with the night deepening and the hall still aglow with the silvery charm of the decorations, George and Y/n slipped outside. The cold air greeted them, sharp and crisp, tinged with the clean scent of snow. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside drifted behind them, a distant memory compared to the stillness of the courtyard.

The moon hung low, bathing the scene in a silver wash that turned the snow into a canvas of glistening frost. Tiny ice crystals adorned the bare branches, catching the light and sparkling like stars. Their footsteps crunched softly over the snow, breaking the quiet as they walked further out.

“I needed a break from all the dancing,” Y/n said, her breath visible in the cold as she shivered lightly. A grin broke across her face as she looked up at George. “Not that I’m complaining. Your moves have improved since third year, I’ll give you that.”

George laughed, the sound rich and familiar, curling warmly in the cold air. “Oh, you mean the time I tripped over your foot and we both ended up in a heap at McGonagall’s feet?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know, that was all part of my strategy. Always keep your partner guessing.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls and filling the quiet space between them. Their breaths mingled in the cold, little puffs that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The shared silence felt different out here, stretched under the starlit sky, charged with an unspoken anticipation.

Suddenly, Y/n bent down, the snow cold but malleable in her hands. With a twist and a quick flick of her wrist, she sent a snowball flying. It hit George squarely in the chest, powder exploding against his maroon dress robes and leaving a wide-eyed look of surprise on his face.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up almost immediately as he processed what had happened. Y/n stepped back, giggling, her eyes bright with mischief as she prepared to dodge whatever came next.

“You were asking for it!” she teased, already crouching to gather more snow.

“I’ll show you asking for it,” George said, his eyes alight with playful menace as he hurled a snowball that whizzed past Y/n’s head, narrowly missing as she ducked and darted behind a stone pillar. The courtyard rang with their laughter, the sound sharp and joyous in the crisp night air, echoing against the ancient stone walls. Each well-aimed throw was met with shrieks of delight or exaggerated groans of mock defeat, and every duck and dodge sent powdery bursts of snow scattering into the moonlit air.

George’s eyes narrowed with a look of determination as he formed another snowball and launched it with precision. This time, it clipped her shoulder, sending a flurry of snow cascading down her back. She stumbled, half-laughing and half-gasping, arms flailing dramatically. George straightened, triumphant, hands resting on his hips as he called out, “Victory is mine!”

But Y/n wasn’t one to admit defeat so easily. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she collapsed to the ground, splaying herself out in an exaggerated pose of surrender. Her face was hidden by her hands, shoulders trembling as she suppressed a giggle.

A sharp pang of worry wiped the grin from George’s face, his heart stuttering as he took a cautious step forward. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening with concern. He dropped to one knee in the snow beside her, brows knitting together as he reached out.

Y/n’s shoulders shook again, and before he could register the telltale signs of suppressed laughter, she sprang up. With a triumphant laugh, she pressed a handful of snow directly into his face, the cold biting against his flushed skin and leaving him spluttering.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!” George shouted, shaking snow from his hair as a wicked grin replaced his earlier concern. Any hesitation was gone as he lunged forward, his arms reaching out. She shrieked, twisting away, but George was quicker. He caught her around the waist, lifting her off the ground in a burst of momentum. They stumbled together, the snow crunching beneath their feet, laughter mingling and dying into the quiet as they found balance.

The world seemed to still as George’s arms remained wrapped around her, holding her close. Their breath came in soft, visible puffs, mingling in the chilled air between them. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something deeper as he looked at her. The moon hung heavy above them, casting a silvery glow that outlined their faces, highlighting every stray snowflake clinging to their hair and lashes.

Their eyes flickered upward at the same time, drawn by a subtle sparkle in the night. There, hanging from a gnarled branch, was a sprig of enchanted mistletoe, its leaves glistening softly with magic. The sight sent a jolt of something unnameable through George’s chest, and a flush crept up his neck, turning his cheeks a deeper shade than the cold could account for.

“Well,” George said, his voice lower now, rougher, as if it carried the weight of unspoken words. “It’s bad luck if we don’t, right? But I mean, only if you want to—”

Before he could finish, she tilted her face up, eyes bright and steady, and closed the space between them. The first touch of their lips was tentative, light as the snow that drifted around them, but the warmth that surged through them banished any chill. George’s arms tightened, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss, the weight of years of unvoiced wishes finally, blissfully, falling away.

They pulled back, eyes wide and searching, both breathless and a little awed by the moment. George’s grin returned, crooked and full of a confidence that felt renewed.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She laughed, soft and sure, the sound a balm in the quiet night. Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered,

“Yes.” The word was simple, but it was everything. The snow around them felt warmer, the winter air humming with a magic that had nothing to do with spells or enchantments. It was the kind of magic spun from shared laughter, quiet glances, and the realization that sometimes, the bravest thing was to reach out and hold on.

The cold bit at their exposed skin, sharp and bracing, but it mattered less now than it had moments before. George kept one arm loosely draped around Y/n, the lingering echo of their kiss warming the air between them. The courtyard, blanketed in pristine snow and illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, felt vast and secretive—a space carved out just for them. The world beyond seemed a distant echo, muted by the quiet splendor of the winter night.

Y/n shifted back slightly, just enough to tip her head up and meet George’s eyes. The familiar spark was there, the playful glint that always spoke of mischief, but now it held something more profound, a depth that made her pulse quicken. The silence that enveloped them was not awkward but steeped in the kind of understanding they’d always shared, waiting patiently for its moment to be acknowledged.

“So,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “I guess this means we’re not *just friends* anymore, huh?”

George chuckled, the sound deep and warm, reverberating in the stillness. “I don’t think we’ve been *just friends* for a while now.” His hand lifted, brushing away a stray snowflake that clung to her hair, his fingers lingering long enough to make her breath hitch and her heart thud with renewed force.

Before the silence could deepen further, a shout cut through the cool air, loud and unmistakable. George turned, half-shielding Y/n as he squinted into the dim glow of the castle. From one of the high windows, Fred and Lee leaned out, their faces barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Fred’s voice boomed, full of triumphant humor.

“About time, you two! Do we need to send down a banner or something?”

Lee’s laughter rang out, sharp and infectious. “Make sure George doesn’t faint from all that bravery!”

Y/n’s laugh bubbled up, uncontainable and bright, while George groaned, the flush returning to his cheeks as he buried his face in one hand.

“I’m going to have to lock them in a broom cupboard one of these days,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Oh, come on,” she said, catching his hand and pulling it away, revealing the lopsided grin he couldn’t suppress. “They’ve been rooting for you.”

George let out a melodramatic sigh, but the fondness in his eyes was undeniable.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let them hear you say that, or they’ll never let us live it down.”

The courtyard settled into silence once more as the laughter from the castle faded, leaving behind only the soft sounds of their breaths and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. The warmth between them felt as real and solid as the walls of the castle itself. George’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a more serious note, carrying the weight of an admission.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. Kiss you, I mean.”

Her eyes met his, the teasing spark replaced by something sincere, a smile that spoke more than words.

“I know,” she whispered, the honesty in her voice brushing against him like the lightest of touches. “Me too.”

Above them, a gentle snowfall began again, tiny flakes drifting down as if the sky itself had chosen to mark the moment. George tightened his hold, tucking her closer as they began to walk back toward the castle. Their footsteps left twin trails in the snow, side by side, a quiet testament to what had just unfolded.

“Think we’ll survive the teasing tomorrow?” she asked, the twinkle in her eyes mirrored by the soft glow of the moon.

George’s grin widened, confidence bubbling back to the surface.

“Not a chance,” he said, laughter underlining his words. “But it’ll be worth it.”

The warmth of the castle loomed ahead, its glow spilling out onto the snow as they stepped inside, bringing with them the magic of the night. Behind them, the snow fell gently, erasing their tracks and leaving only the memory of a story that had finally, beautifully, begun.

#george weasly x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader

127 notes · View notes