#and it's so funny to me once I reach a mistletoe and then it's like

[matchadobo]

KIDD; christmas headcanons

warning/s: mention of sex but no narrative of the actual thing, all fluff!

* kidd knows abt christmas, he just doesn't care 😩

* not until he met you and you wanted THE ULTIMATE christmas celebration with the crew

* he would act annoyed and as if he didn't want to participate in your activities

* but trust me when i say he'll fall in love with you more with the way you're acting like a wife with all the decors and food and gifts

* you'd go and ask him to accompany you when buying stuff, asking him what decors he'd like, he'd say "whatever you want,"

* "you're giving gifts to everyone?

"yeah, something wrong?"

"there's like... fucking thirty of us."

"and???"

* he'd carry the boxes upon boxes of christmas decor, complaining why you bought so much for the ship but will still do it for you

* when you decorate the entirety of victoria and you start getting tired, he'll give you snacks and water and he'll begrudginly help, shouting at the crew to come help you with your bullshit

* garlands across the ship railings, wreaths on each door, bells and lights adorned the edges of the walls. the victoria looked like an ABSOLUTE amusement park kids asked if it was allowed to explore on😭

* he'd be irritated by the festivity and the brightness of his ship, but once he sees you all smiley as you ask him if he loves it, he'll soon grow to love it

* when you tell him about the concept of mistletoes, that man will take advantage of it every chance he gets. you'll just be surprised he'd pin you at random parts of the ship and will kiss you even if you're in the middle of something, even a conversation! it was your msitake in agreeing to entrust him with the mistletoe placements

* since the weather is cold, the crew would add more layers to their once thin outfits. kidd would look so cute with knitted sweaters and a scarf around his neck. just imagine his rosy nose and cheeks when the cold really hits! he'd be asking for more hugs and will really coop up in the blankets ☁️

* he'd also firmly adjusting your beanies, coats, and scarves so you're keeping yourself warm

* he'd catch you playing by the snow

"the fuck are you doing?"

"a snowman?"

"i'd make a better looking one than you i'd bet."

and it'll end up as a snowman-making contest. he wouldn't go easy on you, he'd make his EXTRA EXTRA bigger than you with a punk aesthetic 🥺

* and aaaah christmas movies! you two'd always watch movies in midnight by the deck, sometimes the crew'd join but they'd rather not witness how you two get so touchy with each other. sometimes,,,, movies would either drift you off to sleep or off to sex 😓

* ICE SKATING!! he'd take you to frozen lakes and teach you how to skate! or maybe the other way around! imagine holding his hand as you glide across the snow ❄️

* you'd REALLY persuade him to help you when bakinh, you'd wanna bake with him 😍

"no can do,"

"come ooooon, love. please? for me?"

"...why the hell do i have to do it?"

"because i want to bake with you."

* he'd wear a cute ass apron that belonged to you and it was too big for you but tight for him. but it's manageable, he'd take it if it means you'll giggle when you see him. he'd say he just want to get it over with

* but imagined how he'd knead the dough tho 👀 those arms i mean hooooo. he'd catch you staring by telling you that the pastries in the oven are burning even tho you just slid them in there a few minutes ago

* he'd be soooo focused on decorating tho it's the cutest thing 😍 just imagine he'll be asking for a chair so he can work at "maximum efficiency" as he says. he'll be stoked in putting funny/evil faces and designs on the cupcakes and cookies

* you two'd reach until super late at christmas eve baking stuff before it struck midnight

* you'd be surprised he's got you a gift! it'd be a whole bunch of things; he'll brush it off as he doesn't know what to get you so he got everything🥺. there'd be knicknacks and jewelry he made, perfume and cosmetics, and clothes he'd love on you (lingerie, tight dresses, and anything that highlights your figure 🤭). but what you love the most is the tiny, knitted tulip plush that was about the size of your palm he personlly handcrafted for you 😫, it was a bit loose but other than that it looks flawless! he'd later tell you he's been practicing since the start of december 🥺😭

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVES!! let's all celebrate with our faves 🎄🌷 here's my gift to you!

[sapphire-writes]

Under the Mistletoe ~ Down In Flames

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Aemond x Reader

summary: The infamous Christmas party that occurred before the events of Down In Flames.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: drinking, smoking, angst, descriptions & mentions of vomiting, cheating

note: this was so SO fun to revisit and write for my babies!! it honestly made me tear up how easy it was to slide back into the story, I hope you all enjoy it! 🩷

Now 

“I thought you hated me,” you tell him.

“I never hated you,” he tells you, honestly. 

You narrow your eyes, thinking back on the past two years. You and Aemond had your fair share of heated moments. It seemed like from the very beginning you were destined to piss each other off. 

“You definitely hated me,” you argue, but he shakes his head chuckling softly.

“Oh yeah?” 

“What about the time I puked in the living room?” you tell him, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Or the time I stole your car to drive to Riverrun,” you tell him.

Aemond frowns, dropping his spoon momentarily, eyebrows creasing together. 

“That was you?” he answers, thinking back, “Not even then.” 

You smirk at him then. 

“What about last year’s Christmas party?” you ask, a mischievous smirk on your face.

Aemond glares at you then, and you know you’ve got him. 

“I knew it,” you tell him but he only shakes his head at the memory. 

Then

You slam the door to Aegon’s car, hurrying up the steps toward the Targaryen mansion, heels clicking against the stone walkway. The mansion is alive with guests, you can hear the music from outside as you shiver in the frigid winter air. 

“Will you-shit-” Aegon mumbles, struggling to get out of the passenger side, hitting his head as he does, “Fucking stop!”

A wave of anger passes through you, but you do as Aegon says, coming to a stop and turning on your heel. 

“You’re supposed to be sober,” you hiss at him.

“It’s Christmas!”

You turn away from him, but he grabs your arm pouting.

“C’mon it's a party, baby please,” Aegon whines, voice breaking. 

“It’s barely sundown, and we just fucking got here,” your lip curls with anger and disgust, “Your mom is going to be pissed Aeg.”

“She won’t even notice,” he argues, sliding a hand through his hair, before digging in his suit jacket for a cigarette. 

“Fucking hell,” you groan as he struggles to light it, “You were supposed to drive.”

“Gimme the keys,” Aegon says, lips firmly around the now-lit cigarette.

You reach up, plucking it from his lips and smashing it underneath your shoe.

“That’s not fucking funny.”

“I’m a great driver.”

A reminder to you, to hide the keys later. 

“You’re an asshole,” you tell him and he frowns.

“You love it,” he argues, reaching for another cigarette.

“Do not,” you warn him and he gives an exasperated sigh.

“You my mom now?”

“Your actual mom is waiting. And your dad. They miss you.”

It’s true. Aegon rarely answers phone calls or texts from Alicent, so she’s taken to communicating through you. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Aegon grumbles, “I’m just tired, okay? Band practiced late last night.”

You hold his gaze. It’s always been so easy for him to lie to you. You think for a moment if you should call him on his shit, knowing damn well there was no rehearsal the previous night. Jace and Luke had grabbed drinks with Baela and you. 

“Sure,” you answer, choosing not to pick a fight.

Aegon reaches for you, wiggling his fingers expectantly. You lace your fingers through his and walk into his parents’ house.

The Targaryens are known for their lavish parties, and their winter holiday party is no exception. They’ve invited everyone they know, the extravagant mansion is filled with people dressed in suits and silk dresses for the occasion. The grand staircase in the foyer is wrapped with garland; a deep forest green with twinkling lights snaking up the banisters.

Several Christmas trees are present, each with a different color scheme. You remember Alicent telling you once she has them decorated for each of Viserys’ children. One entirely gold, another decorated with glittering red ornaments, and another sparkling green and bronze. 

“Hey,” Helaena greets you, making her way through the crowd.

Her silver hair is curled, half pulled away from her face in a braided bun that rests near the crown of her head. She’s wearing a pale blue dress that hugs her figure, a pair of snowflake earrings dangling from her ears. She wraps her arm around you in a hug, eyes flickering to Aegon. 

The floral scent of her perfume engulfs you and you breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself. Aegon always has your heart rate at a dangerous speed. 

“You okay?” Hel asks as she pulls away, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Mhmm, just peachy,” you tell her, as Alicent approaches. 

She loops her arms around Aegon and he rolls his eyes.

“Hey Mom,” he says softly, but you know he’s enjoying the attention. 

Alicent pulls away, stroking some silver hair from his face.

“How are you?” she asks, smiling softly.

Her eyes dart over to you and she kisses your cheek, before returning her attention to her eldest son.

“I’m okay,” Aegon grumbles, “Promise.”

“I thought you’d come with Aemond,” Alicent says.

You look around the room. Aemond’s pretty hard to miss, standing over six feet tall with his platinum hair and sapphire eye that catches any light in the room. You haven't seen him yet. You do however catch the eye of Daemon, who is seated currently, Rhaenyra standing to his side conversing with someone. His lips curl into a smile and he nods, as you look away. 

You spot Baela and Jace hanging around the corner of the room and waltz over to them. Baela is the first to notice you, whistling appreciatively at your outfit. The deep midnight blue dress hugs every curve perfectly, with several sparkles glittering throughout the fabric making the dress appear as though it was crafted from the night sky. 

“You look damn good, girl,” Baela says as she hugs you. 

“Thanks, Bae,” you tell her, “You look stunning.”

Baela gives a small twirl. Most of her silver curls are piled atop her head, with a few strands loose to frame her face. The dress she wears is blood red, her cleavage spilling from the top. Jace’s cheeks are red, his eyes following Baela’s every move. 

“Where’s Rhaena?” you ask.

“Where do you think?” Baela snorts.

You look around the room and sure enough spot Rhaena, twirling a silver loc between her fingers, leaning against the wall conversing with Aemond. He’s looking the other way, directly at you, hair pulled away from his face in a low bun. You catch his eye momentarily before you look away. 

“She’s relentless,” Baela chastises, “But he seems in a good mood tonight. Didn’t bring that woman with him.”

“What was her name again?” you ask and Baela shrugs.

You remember who she’s talking about. An older woman Aemond had begun hooking up with.

“I think he stopped seeing her,” Jace comments, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Where’s Aegon?” Baela asks, though her tone suggests she wanted to avoid the topic. 

You sigh as Luke joins you, holding out a glass of wine for you to take. 

“You look like you need this,” he tells you as you graciously accept.

You take a sip and Baela raises an eyebrow. You roll your eyes looking around the room. It’s easy to find Aegon, he’s sitting on the couch, telling some story to a dark-haired girl who’s perched on the armrest next to him. His hand is twitching, as though it wants to wander up the length of her thigh. 

“He’s socializing,” you tell them, through your teeth.

“He’s disrespecting you,” Baela argues, nostrils flaring, “I’m going over there-”

“Don’t,” you warn, grabbing her arm, “I don’t want to make a scene. Not tonight.”

“This is such bullshit Y/N,” she argues.

“Just not tonight,” you beg, “Please.”

Her eyes bore into yours. Avoid, avoid, avoid. It’s what you do best. If you avoid it long enough, perhaps he’ll change. Maybe he’ll wake up and realize you’re all he needs. You don’t say this aloud. But Baela can see it in your eyes.

“Tomorrow he’s fair game,” she tells you, “I’m going to kick his ass.”

“I’d pay money to see that,” Luke says, nodding.

Baela pushes him in the shoulder and he feigns being in pain. 

“Anyone want to do shots?” he asks when he’s recovered. 

You glance at Aegon, still entranced with someone else.

“Let’s do it,” you tell Luke, who cheers in response. 

You follow him across the room, grabbing Rhaena’s hand to force her into joining. She makes a noise of protest but Aemond takes the opportunity to walk across the room, joining his grandfather in a conversation. 

“Y/N!” Rhaena whines as you hand her a shot glass.

“You’re drooling,” you tell her, “Stop it.”

“I am not,” she hisses, but she takes the shot.

“Let him come to you,” you advise, downing your own shot, “I feel like Aemond likes a chase.”

“I feel like Aemond doesn’t like anything or anyone,” Rhaena argues.

“Then why do you like him?” you wonder, eyes flickering to where he stands across the room.

Rhaena flushes, and shrugs.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, “He seems sweet, he just needs to open a little bit. And I’m a great listener.”

“I know you are,” you say, giving her nose a boop, “Just make sure you’re being careful, okay?”

“He didn’t bring Alys,” she says excitedly, “I think he’s available again.”

Alys. That was her name. You look at Aemond again, meeting his eye as he takes a sip from his drink. Otto Hightower follows his gaze, landing on you. You turn from them both. Otto Hightower sends a shiver up your spine. 

“I’m going back over there,” Rhaena says, “How do I look?”

You smile affectionately at her. The rose pink dress she wears, the glitter on her cheeks. She’s so beautiful. Aemond doesn’t deserve her. You’re not sure why he hasn’t returned her affections.

“You look amazing,” you tell her, and then she’s off. 

You stay with Luke for a while, alternating between shots and wine. Aegon has vanished to some other part of the room, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. If he doesn’t, why should you?

You move about the room, pushing past people trying to find a spot to rest your feet. Your heels are very cute but not very uncomfortable. You walk over near the door frame that leads into the kitchen, leaning against it. You close your eyes to steady yourself, and take a deep breath; the room has started to spin.

“You’re under the mistletoe,” a voice says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

Daemon Targaryen.

A giggle slips through your lips. What the fuck. You must have had more alcohol than you thought if you were giggling at the antics of Daemon Targaryen. He’s painfully handsome, you have to admit, but you’ve barely spoken more than a few words to him. 

“I guess I am,” you tell him, glancing up at the green plant that hangs above your head.

“Where’s Aegon?” Daemon asks, leaning forward, a strand of silver hair falling into his face.

You bite your lip, tapping a nail against your glass. He’s handsome. Older. Your cheeks flush and your gaze runs along his chest, down the front of his tie, down to his belt buckle. You force your eyes to move back to his face and are greeted by a small smirk.

“I don’t know,” you tell him, letting your lashes flutter suggestively. 

“Shame for him,” Daemon murmurs.

He’s inching closer, a large hand pawing at your waist, drawing you nearer. It would be so easy to let him have you. It’d been so long since someone wanted you, really wanted you. Aegon wouldn’t have to know. The party guests could care less who Daemon kissed.

Almost all of them.

Aemond had been watching you for the majority of the evening. Downing glass after glass, not bothering to pace yourself. You were miserable, he could tell, as you often were. Still, he kept to the sidelines, watching from afar. But now he couldn’t take any more. 

Aemond strode through the crowd, making his way toward you and Daemon. A snarl appeared on his face as Daemon placed his free hand on the side of your face. Your lips were plump and ready to be kissed, eyes fluttering shut before Aemond pulled you from Daemon’s grasp.

“Enough,” he growled.

“Just a bit of holiday fun,” Daemon assured him, leaning against the wall.

Aemond doesn’t release his grip on your arm, long fingers digging into you painfully as he pulls you down a hallway. Your legs struggle to keep up with his wide strides, heels catching on the carpet. 

“What’s the big fucking deal? It’s a game, Aemond, a silly tradition,” you tell him, yanking your arm away. 

He’s just like Aegon. Rough, demanding, bullying. Pulling you this way and that. Aemond turns to you, lip curled in distaste.

“Cheating is a game?”

“Aegon seems to think so,” you snap, rubbing your arm. 

“So you’ve finally stooped to his level then? How mature of you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Real classy of you, who’s next you think? Daeron?”

“Certainly not you,” you seethe.

Aemond’s nostrils flare, violet eye full of rage. You stare him down for a moment, chest heaving with every breath.

“I’m not interested,” Aemond says through his teeth.

“I figured,” you tell him, shoving past him.

“Y/N-”

“What?” you say, turning to face him once more, “What else, Aemond? If you have something to me, say it.”

You take a step closer. You fucking hate him. The judgemental look in his eye is written all over his face. The pure loathing that rolls off of him, creates tension in the space between you. 

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Aemond says, shaking his head and looking away, “Besides sober the fuck up. Aegon’s enough to deal with. I don’t need to be dragging your ass home too.”

“I hate you,” you snap, feeling childish. 

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, lower lip trembles. You can feel your eyes beginning to well with angry tears. You don’t even know where Aegon is at this point. Aemond meets your eyes then.

“Great.”

“I do.”

“Fucking fantastic, Y/N.”

“Screw you!”

“Screw you!” Aemond says, raising his voice, “This the reaction you’re looking for? Huh?”

You take a step back and something flickers across Aemond’s face. Regret. 

“Find Aegon if you’re trying to pick a fight,” he tells you, moving to leave.

“I’m….” you swallow, “I’m going to be sick.”

“What?” Aemond asks.

“I’m-” the rest of the sentence doesn’t happen as you slam your hand over your mouth, pushed by Aemond, trying to find the nearest bathroom.

“Y/N!”

Your name fades into the background as the blood rushes to your head and you have the last hour of drinks into Alicent’s favorite fern. 

“Oh shit,” Aemond says, turning away as you continue to retch.

“Get Baela!” you moan, but it comes out as garbled speech.

“What?”

“Baela!”

“Yes, okay, yeah, I’ll get her,” Aemond says, shuffling awkwardly before leaving to find Baela. 

When he returns you’re laying on your side, in the fetal position, dress scrunched around your waist. Aemond flushes slightly at the exposed flesh of your thighs before Baela kneels pulling your dress down.

“Shit,” Baela groans, “Fucking Aegon and his stupid fucking prick-faced, shit-head-”

“Bae,” you whine.

“C’mon,” Baela says, helping you to your feet, “We have to get her home.”

Aemond nods.

“I can drive,” he tells Baela.

“Where’s Aeg?” you moan, “Where is he?”

Baela and Aemond lock eyes. Neither can answer. Luckily, they’re spared the answer when your stomach lurches once more and you heave, vomiting on Aemond’s shoes. 

“Fucking-” Aemond yells, face twisting in disgust. 

Baela’s eyes widen, a harsh laugh slipping through her parted lips. Aemond glares at her. 

“It’s not funny,” Baela says, trying to hide her smile.

She shakes her head, curls bouncing around her face. Aemond kicks his feet, stomach-turning before he grabs your face with his hands. 

“No more,” he tells you, staring into your watery eyes, “We have to go through the party.”

“I can’t help it,” you groan, trying to twist your face out of his hands.

Aemond holds your face tightly in his grasp; his calloused hands are warm against your cheeks.

“Yes, you can. Just until we’re outside,” he commands you, “C’mon you love a challenge.”

It’s your turn to glare at him, but you nod biting your tongue. Aemond pats your cheeks almost affectionately.

“Good girl, okay let's go,” Aemond says, walking toward the main room.

“Do not puke,” Baela tells you as she loops her arms around you, guiding you forward.

By some miracle, you manage to say goodbye to Alicent and make it through to the rest of the guests. But when you’re on the front steps you heave once more into the rose bushes that litter the front of the house. 

Your stomach is nearly empty at this point, it's just painful dry heaves that send you curling into yourself. Your head pounds and you gasp, trying to catch your breath. 

As Baela lays you down in the back of Aemond’s car, Aegon stumbles out of the house. Baela glares at him, sharing a knowing look with Aemond as Aegon fixes his belt buckle. 

“What happened?” Aegon says, frowning at the sight. 

“She’s wasted you dickhead,” Baela snaps, brushing some hair from your face. 

Aegon climbs into the back of the car, placing your head on his lap. Baela rolls her eyes as he strokes some hair from your face, and whispers in your ear. Aemond slams the car door shut. 

“You coming with?” he asks Baela, heading to the driver’s side.

Baela doesn’t answer, she simply opens the passenger side door and slips inside. 

The drive home is quick, not that you remember much of it. The last thing you remember is Baela tucking you into bed, securing the covers around your chin. 

“What about me?” Aegon grumbles, lips forming a pout, “You gonna tuck me in too Bae?”

“You sleep in the living room,” Baela says, throwing Aegon a pillow, “Sober up asshole.”

“Fuck off,” Aegon grumbles, but Aemond places a hand on his shoulder.

“Couch,” he tells Aegon, glare murderously. 

“Whatever,” Aegon says, beginning to strip his clothing, leaving a trail behind him as he heads to the living room. 

Baela glances at Aemond, who still stands in the doorway, gaze locked on your sleeping figure. 

“I should call Jace,” Baela says, stroking the hair from your face, “Let him know I’m crashing here.”

Aemond hums in response, glancing at your sleeping figure as Baela pulls out her phone. 

“I’ll make sure Aegon leaves her alone,” Aemond tells her, “Tell Jace to pick you up.”

Baela looks him up and down.

“You sure?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he assures her and she shrugs, walking out of the room.

Aemond closes the door behind him as he leaves after Baela, not without giving you one last long look. 

When you wake, your head is pounding. You groan, mouth feeling like it's full of sawdust before you rise from bed and exit the bedroom. 

You walk into the kitchen, meaning to pour yourself a glass of water. A snore startles you and you flinch, turning toward the living room. Aegon is sleeping, mouth open, arm dangling off the side. You walk over to him, poking his cheek.

“Fuck off Aemond-” he grumbles, turning.

“Nice,” you tell him as he peers up at you.

“Can I come to bed now?” he asks.

“Not sure why you weren’t there,” you tell him, “It’s your room.”

Aegon rises, the blankets falling to the floor revealing his naked form. 

“Your knight in shining armor didn’t allow it,” he grumbles, walking past you toward his room.

“Who?”

But Aegon doesn’t answer, he just walks into his room. You hear the squeak of his bed as he lies down. You retreat back into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pour yourself a glass. As you finish you turn, only to be surprised by Aemond standing in front of you. You flinch, dropping your cup, water splashing over the floor and on your bare feet. 

“Shit!” you yelp, hopping away from the spill.

Thankfully the cup is plastic and it bounces away from you. You hurriedly grab paper towels laying them on the floor. Aemond stands, not offering any help as you clean up the spill, placing the cup on the counter. You give him a questioning look. 

He’s dressed as though he’d just woken up as well, with his hair pulled from his face in a braid and a pair of gray sweats hanging low on his hips. His signature silver chain is around his neck disappearing below the neckline of his black tank top that hugs his upper body. 

“You vomited,” Aemond tells you.

You frown, a moment of silence falling between you.

“Oh,” you tell him. 

“On my shoes,” he finishes. 

Aemond stares at you, and you stare back, cheeks reddening with slight embarrassment. Though, at least it was just Aemond. He already hates you, you’ve nothing left to really lose.

“Sorry,” you tell him. 

Aemond blinks like he wants to cuss you out before he adjusts his jaw and gives a breathless laugh instead.  

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” he asks. 

You don’t answer at first. You’ve been asked that question a million times before. By Baela. By Rhaena. By Helaena. Hell, even Alicent has pulled you aside to chat about it. No one ever understands. 

“I love him.”

Aemond nods, laughing bitterly. It feels foolish to tell him that. 

“That’s it then,” he says, more to himself than to you.

Your brow furrows, confused at his reaction as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He closes his eye, releasing a deep sigh. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, exasperated.

You swallow, assuming he’s sick of the drama he’s surrounded by. He should be. It’s fucking exhausting, you and Aegon. Aegon and you. Twin flames consuming one another. Destroying one another. 

“Do whatever you want,” he tells you, “Just don’t make me watch.”

“No one’s making you,” you snap.

“No,” he agrees, “I guess you’re right.”

Aemond walks over to you then. 

“But don’t expect me to coddle you. I’m not Baela, I’m sure as hell not Rhaena,” he says, eye flickering about your face.

Your breath catches at his closeness.

“Fine,” you tell him.

He’s close enough you can feel his breath on his face. You don’t know what you’re thinking, but you can’t help it, your eyes flicker momentarily to his lips. Aemond notices, and you hear his breathing stop. 

“Sleep it off,” he murmurs, breaking the tension.

He leans back giving you a once over, before exiting the kitchen. Aemond calls to you once more as he walks away, keeping his voice low. 

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

You’re left in the kitchen, hands clutching your glass of water. You glance out the window, watching as snow falls gently, covering the ground in a layer of powder before silently retreating back to Aegon’s room.

Aemond listens to your footsteps, his back pressed against the closed door of his room, heart beating erratically in his chest. He hears the click of Aegon’s door closing, the soft timbre of your voice flowing through the wall that separates the two rooms.

He can’t make out what you’re saying, just the disappointed tone, the soft whine that creeps into the end of your sentence. 

Aemond leans his head against the door, before grabbing a pair of noise-canceling headphones, blasting music to drown out the angry sounds that echo from Aegon’s room.

A habit he has grown tragically accustomed to.

note: thank you so so so SO much again!! I absolutely loved writing this, perhaps I'll have to write some more hehe 😘

DIF taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax, @hiatuswhore, @issshhh, @echos-muses, @wrendermeuseless, @youcantbesirius, @partypoison00 @chainsawsangel @bellameshipper @wondergal2001, @arcielee @rwdkarla @sweetsweetpsyche @valeric-writes @sahvlren @ohdemimonde @geminidas @darkenchantress @sophielangdonx, @khaothick, @flavorofsalt, @spinachtz, @alitaar, @crazylokonugget @eddiemadmunson, @schniiipsel, @borikenlove, @afro-hispwriter, @whitefang1919, @sarcastically-defensive17, @paprikaquinn, @minttea07, @iiamthehybrid, @ghostheartbeat, @namelesslosers, @iiamthehybrid, @mendes-bae,

[scarletttries]

Ride My Sleigh Tonight (Kendall Roy Request)

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: A little Christmas gift of smut for all my Kendall homies <3 Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, please send more Kendall thoughts anytime, I love to read them ☺️💕

Ride My Sleigh Tonight (part of my Christmas List)

The hours seemed to pass like sticky treacle as you and Kendall did lap after lap of the latest corporate event on the Waystar Christmas calendar. Between standing under less than coincidental Mistletoe for photo opps, Kendall getting a heartfelt, but drawn-out, thank you for his donation to whichever organisation was hosting tonight, and then finally collapsing in a town car home for the night ready to repeat the day scene-by-scene tomorrow, you and Kendall had hardly had a moment alone together since December began.

Tonight as Kendall squeezed your hand, leading you down the grand marble steps of whichever exquisite gallery played venue together, you heard him mutter softly, "I miss you." Despite barely having left each other's sides for more than a moment all week, you knew exactly what he meant. The two of you had been forced to spend so much time putting on appearances you felt more like a prop than a person at Kendall's side, the goofy, funny, kind man you love hidden behind corporate talk and well-rehearsed lines. Climbing into the back of a tastefully decorated limousine, tinted black windows finally hiding you from the sea of prying eyes, you let yourself steal a moment of sincerity, leaning across the expansive backseat and resting a hand on the side of Kendall's face, thumb brushing softly over his cheek,

"I miss you too 'dall, but I'm always right here." Your lips met his before his smile could fully form, somehow always knowing exactly what the once hollow man needed to hear to feel complete again. Wrapping an arm around your waist he kept you close beside him as he leaned into your kiss, ensuring the two of you took up a little space in the stretched out vehicle as possible.

"I love you." He breathed, before turning his attention to the front of the car. "We're ready, and screen up please." In your focus on Kendall you'd completely missed the open partition between you and the driver, a little embarrassed that your private moment hadn't quite been as private as you hoped, relieved when the driver nodded in response to Ken and the black screen between the compartments began to rise. Kendall let out a soft laugh at the blush creeping up your cheeks, always caught off guard at the reminders that you weren't quite used to this lifestyle yet. Subconsciously you tugged at the edge your cocktail dress, trying to retain some dignity at the knowledge someone else was in the car with you. Watching you squirm in your seat by his side, Kendall couldn't help but think how adorable you looked, wondering just how flustered he could make you in the time it took to reach home, for once praying New York traffic wouldn't be on your side.

Starting subtle he placed a hand on your thigh, running his thumb just under the hem of your dress, testing the waters and watching your posture straighten at his touch. You kept your gaze forwards, trying to nonchalantly take in your surroundings, not wanting to give away the sparks flying with even his gentle strokes. Watching your face intently his hand drifted a little higher, slowly disappearing under the silky fabric as your eyes grew wider, trying to see reason despite how much you'd missed the feel of his devious fingers.

"Ken, he'll hear." You whispered under your breath, nodding towards the front of the car as if that would deter the devilish glint in Kendall's eyes.

"You'll just have to be quiet then, beautiful." He almost smirked as he said it, the chorus of noises he usually drew from you enough to tell him that wasn't going to be easy. As you considered your position, he withdrew his hand, your thighs suddenly feeling cold without him between them. "Come here." He patted his lap, grin so warm and inviting you almost forgot any reservations as you shifted from your seat. As you settled across his thighs, Kendall watched the loose fabric of your skirt rise up, catching a glimpse of the thin sliver of fabric underneath keeping him from exactly where he intended to be. Every part of you felt sensitive as your centre met the slight bulge growing through Kendall's designer trousers, a bump in the road knocking your position slightly and sending vibrations through your core. Kendall watched engrossed as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperate to keep your whimpers to yourself as you swayed your hips slightly against him, not in control as your thighs rubbed together. He could see the flush forming in your cheeks in anticipation as he brought his hand back between your thighs, inching closer to where you ached for his touch.

"You've been a very good girl this year." He teased as his fingers traced over the thin fabric covering your entrance, entertained by the slight flinch the contact caused. "You deserve all the fucking presents." His voice grew deeper as his fingers moved your underwear to the side, free hand wrapped around your waist to ensure you had to stay put while he played with you. Slowly he dipped his index finger into your entrance, the welcome intrusion pulling a soft gasp from you, unsure how you'd lasted this long without feeling him inside you. After a few gentle curls against your walls he withdrew his finger, bringing the fresh coat of slick to your clit and tapping against it in a steady rhythm, giving you only a moment of desperate friction at a time.

"Already so wet, I think you like me touching you when someone might hear you." His breath was hot against your neck as he spoke, each word punctuated by the tip of his finger meeting your clit, now throbbing for his attention. "Maybe we should stop? After all, I don't want anyone else knowing how fucking hot you sound when you come."

"Kendall please," You whispered, pleading tone exactly what Kendall needed to hear.

"Please what, gorgeous? Use those pretty words."

"Please touch me." Kendall loved to hear you beg for his touch, the power he held over your pleasure intoxicating to him like nothing else.

"Good girl." He praised as he plunged two fingers inside you, thumb taking over from his finger, but rather than short teasing taps, it rubbed firm slick circles over your aching clit, the sudden change in pace making it near impossible to keep still in his lap.

"God I love watching you get worked up. You get so sensitive, so desperate to cum." He breathed into your ear, keeping his voice low enough to make you feel like you still had to be quiet, struggling with every passing second to keep your moans inside. You could only nod your head to his comment, afraid if you opened your mouth for even a breath his name would fall from your lips at a volume half the city would hear.

He could feel the way your hips were rocking against his hand, chasing his every touch, the pressure inside you climbing towards your desperate release.

"Do you think I should make you cum?" He whispered into your ear, fingers reaching inside you in time with the strokes of your clit, your thighs trembling around his hand as bucked your hips into his touch. You nodded your head sharply, so close to release you could feel it throbbing inside you, every muscle starting to tense.

"Use your words. Or I'll stop." He bargained, exhilarated watching you carefully open your mouth, eyes locked on his in pleading desperation,

"Please." You breathed out, the pressure inside you threatening to betray your attempts to be quiet. Kendall could feel you twitching around his fingers, his own aching excitement straining against his belt, mind racing with all the ways he wanted to ruin you tonight, to make you scream his name like you didn't care who might hear it.

"Let me cum, Kendall." You could feel the devotion in his movements as he brought you over the edge, your pussy clenching down on his fingers as you soaked them, thighs shaking with the waves of bliss washing over you. You knew his name had come out louder than a whisper, the high pitched moan echoing unmistakably through the vehicle, but as you felt your muscles start to relax against his warm chest, you couldn't bring yourself to feel anything but happy.

"We'll be home soon, and then we'll see just how loud you can say my name." Kendall's voice was warm and soft as he wrapped his arms around, unwilling to relinquish your from his lap or his life.

[daydream-cement]

The Cedars Have Eyes Ch. 7

Characters: Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Synopsis: The Council of Cedars offers Fern more clarity.

Authors Note: Ugh, I'm such a dummy. I thought the Wednesday series was set in New Jersey, but it's actually Vermont. The animated movies are New Jersey and the vintage series and musical is New York. Can they quit movin' it around? Apologies for the continuity errors that now exist within past chapters. Great news though, New Jersey share the plant communities that I have based this writing on.

Is this chapter better or worse? Am I being too descriptive?

Your dream that night was different, in fact.

You were walking in the forest near Nevermore. It was quite peaceful. It was sunset and a beautiful golden hue filled the forest. This was why you loved the woods so much. You knew right away you were in a white cedar swamp.

I hope this is what my heaven is like, you think to yourself.

You look down at your shoes and smile. You are wearing your rubber boots. Even dream you knew to wear the boots in a white cedar forest. You keep walking, stepping carefully, the ground shifting beneath your feet. It was like walking on a waterbed. You were in a peatland. Here one wrong step could send your foot through the moss, filling your boot with water.

Your eyes are glued to the forest floor, watching the understory plants as you pass them. Ferns. Many different species of ferns. It made you feel at home. Your mother always told you, 'Ferns are one of the oldest and wisest of plant species, developing long before trees and flowers."

You keep walking, noticing a break in the trees ahead. Odd. Once you reach it, you see a wide circle of cedar trees with no plants growing in or around them. How strange.

They couldn't be naturally occurring. Someone had to have planted them like that. You feel uncomfortable entering the ring of trees, so you walk along the outside of the circle. In all your observations, you notice that one tree is planted a few feet backwards, creating an odd curvature in an otherwise perfect circle.

12. There are 12 cedars here. The Council of 12 Cedars.

------

You had the pleasure of waking up with Larissa's head on your chest. She hadn't moved far all night, keeping herself glued to your side. You keep still. You weren't going to wake her or leave after last nights revelations. The rise and fall of her chest against you was a sensation that caused you to close your eyes, wanting to remember it forever.

When Larissa awoke, she crawled up higher, placing her face in your neck wordlessly. You pulled your arms around her, gripping her tighter like she wanted. Larissa, being a morning person, was typically all dry wit, sarcasm, and smirks in the morning. Today she was solemn.

You try to lift the mood with some reminiscing, "Do you remember the time, it was right before we even really got together, that we were down at the docks and you were messing around and pushed me and I fell into the lake?"

Larissa couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh against your skin and she finished the memory, "And when I apologized, profusely by the way, and tried to help you out of the lake, you pulled me in after you."

"You deserved it... Do you remember the car ride home from the conference?"

"Rowan wouldn't stop looking back and forth at us with that goofy grin. It was so embarrassing." Larissa was smiling against your neck at the memory, "Do you remember over holiday break when we were kissing in your office and Rowan came in?"

"She just stood there with that same smile, her arms folded, and said, 'Go ahead, don't let me stop you. I'll just watch'." You roll your eyes thinking about how funny and ridiculous your best friend could be.

"That evening... We stood in the greenhouse and you had grown mistletoe there for us." Larissa's voice was soft as she reflected on the sweet gesture.

"I always like a reason to kiss you." You bring a hand to her cheek and press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Do you remember when you grew me that flower at the lake?" Larissa asked, her voice cracking, she was getting choked up.

"Mhmm, and you kissed me..." You didn't know how to make her feel better. This reminiscing hadn't made her feel better, but probably made her feel worse in that you wouldn't have much more time to make more memories, "You have always been so easy to love."

You shouldn't have said it. The, very true, words just slipped out. Larissa began crying and there was nothing you could do but just hold her as she mourned for you.

-------

Larissa had to go into work. There was an incredible strength to her as you watched her happily interact with the students returning from their spring break. They way she chatted with students and their parents, no one would have ever guessed what was going on behind closed doors.

In all the chaos of students moving in, you slipped away to the woods, your good rubber boots on your feet. You were going to find the Council of 12 Cedars.

You remember having a conversation with Eugene about a remnant white cedar swamp a couple miles from Nevermore, but it was only accessible by foot. Larissa would notice your absence, but you had no reason to suspect you would be in any danger.

The walk in the woods actually allowed you to forget about the dread you felt for your own death and the guilt you felt for Larissa's sadness. You watched the plant community fade from deciduous forest to the delightful white cedar swamp. There was a worn deer trail that you followed through the thick of the forest. Raspberry brambles grabbed at your clothes.

You kept your head on a swivel, looking for any tree or rock that seemed familiar. Even with your keen eye for plant identification, sometimes individual plants ran together. You felt like you were walking through the forest for ages, ducking below half-fallen branches and stepping over rotting logs.

You stop yourself, an arm gripping a nearby cedar when you see a small herd of white-tail deer stop their grazing to look up at you. A smaller of the bunch stomps his foot at you, letting you know that he has seen you. You smile and stomp your foot in return. After this is all over, I should return here, you think to yourself. Your stomach drops as you remember the reality of your situation, you won't have the opportunity to return.

You head in the opposite direction of the herd, not interested in spooking them any further. And that's when you spot the clearing.

You remember the tree arrangement vividly. You know the tree to approach. It's the one separated from the bunch.

Much like how you speak with the oak tree by the old meeting house, you place both hands on the rough, splintery bark of the white cedar. With your past practice, the connection is made easily, but this conversation was much different.

Oh, look! It's her! It's the one! Took her long enough. She's here!

Many voices rang out at once, making it challenging to focus, one strong feminine voice rang up above the rest.

Quiet down, would you? She can't listen to us all at once.

You were grateful for her leadership, the intensity of all the voices was beginning to make your skull pound, I'm here to see the Council of 12 Cedars. Am I in the right place?

You are, child. We have been waiting for you.

Why me? What am I supposed to do?

The next full moon, you will descend to the crypt. Spring will bring new life to the forest. He will be waiting for you. Do not fear his wrath, he isn't as powerful as he would make you believe.

Am I really going to die?

In ten days time, you will give your life to save us all.

------

The trip home was a blur. You were processing everything. You never saw yourself as a brave hero that would be battling a colonialist bigot. Truly, you were content in your life teaching, growing plants, and making your girlfriend happy. Larissa. What would you tell her? You had such a short amount of time left.

Larissa was standing at the top of the grand staircase when you walked back into the front doors of Nevermore. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to scream and yell and scold you for leaving school grounds without even telling her. But she tamped it all down, kept it secured tight within her chest.

"I was so worried. Where have you been?" Her arms gathered you in her arms when you reached the top of the stairs. You were thinking she would be angrier.

"I found the Council of 12 Cedars."

Link to Chapter 8

[lost-soul-in-time]

🌿

@merrick-of-violet

Oliver was beginning to feel better.

The first few days of finally being himself again without the influence of an entity haunting his every move were... something else. Strange. He'd become so accustomed to the feeling of something latched onto his soul that once it had left, he couldn't help but feel hollow in his own body. Merrick had been nothing but patient during his transition into true normalcy, even when the guilt of taking up so much of her time would cloud his judgement.

Decorating for the holidays took his mind off of everything. It was the first time in years he'd been able to see the house light up with the potential of radiant happiness everyone gushed about this time of year. It was colorful and lively, soft music quietly playing in the background as they went on with their days.

Although Oliver knew his memory had progressively declined over the years, he thought he would've at least remembered he'd hung up mistletoe as well.

He wouldn't even had noticed it if Merrick hadn't pointed it out. One couldn't blame him though, could he? Slow dancing in the middle of the living room with the woman he adored more than anything else would always block out his surroundings to focus entirely on her.

The dress she wore reached just above her knees and fit her in a way where one would think it was tailor-made exactly for her. When he'd gently spin her, her smile lit up brighter than any light they could ever find, and his gaze was the equivalent of biting into a honeycomb. Periwinkle blue had never looked so beautiful until it had reached her eyes, vibrant and so full of an adoration Oliver couldn't comprehend. She looked at him the same way he looked at her; like they were the other's entire world.

God, he loved her.

They'd slowed to a stop when he'd glanced up at the mistletoe, and before he could say a word, delicately soft hands are holding his face and guiding him to look back down at Merrick. The air in his lungs is punched right out of him, and they both smile as their foreheads rest together, a gentle chuckle leaving him as his hands moved to mirror her own gesture.

"What's so funny?" Merrick asked as her smile turns into an amused grin at the short laugh.

"It's surreal. All of this. I still suspect I'm in a dream at times." Oliver answers honestly, only slightly sheepish at the revelation. "Perhaps it's because you don't feel real. I'm always so certain you're too loving or patient with me to possibly be. You're... always so graceful and you're beautiful, unlike anyone I've ever met."

Merrick's eyes threaten to glaze over, and he leans down to finally press their lips together. He was never as patient as her when it came to waiting.

Her arms loop around his neck to pull him down further with a hum, and his hands smooth down to hold her waist in return. He couldn't say she was perfection, because she's so much more than that. She's human, capable of cruelty just like anyone else, and yet that's far from what she is. Every day she chooses to be kind, understanding, caring, and that's exactly what made her so enchanting, so... beautiful.

A persistent thought, confident and sure of himself, loops privately in his mind.

I'm going to marry you.

[theautisticbarbie]

A Bird of Praise

Act I

Chapter VI: Reflections of the Past

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Word Count: 683

Chapter warnings: None! Just a wholesome way to close out Act I! But let me know if I’m wrong!

Chapter summary: After the nightmarish week of Will’s disappearance, the Christmas season rolls in, bringing new changes and new tidings to come.

Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas were executing Operation: Grinch quite successfully. The objective was to sneak a peek at their presents see if any of them got the book with the newest edition of DnD.

Unfortunately, they were caught red handed once they reached the tree.

“What are you four doing?”

The four turned around to see Tara giving them a VERY stern look with crossed arms. “You’re so naughty!”

The four walked away, defeated.

“Yeah, scoot!” Tara chuckled. “Sneaking a peek at your presents! Not on my watch and definitely not at my Christmas party!”

Dory, Gabby’s younger sister, the same age as the four, clasped her hands behind her back apologetically. “Sorry, Dusty.”

“Nice going! She sold us out even with her crush on you!” Mike remarked.

“Tara, grandpa’s menorah went out again,” Daniel interjected.

“Okay, I‘ll go light it again! You keep an eye on these little stinkers!”

Tara went into the dining room and relit the menorah when Jonathan walked in.

“It’s funny,” Tara started. “I don’t know the first think about being Jewish… but this menorah is one of the few things left of my grandpa. So every year, during Hanukkah, I light it. I never got to meet him. He died when my mom was like 2.”

“I’m sure he would be proud to know that you kept what I presume is valuable to him safe.”

“I presume so, as well. The candle holders are real gold,” Tara chuckled, lighting the last candle. “So my catholic grandmother says, at least.”

“Look, Tara, I wanted to talk in private.”

Tara lead Jonathan to the kitchen, where their conversation could indeed be private.

“That day… I really thought I was gonna lose you…”

Tara sighed looking down. “I… I told my brother that I made peace with whatever was gonna happen that day… but the truth was that I didn’t want to die… and I didn’t want to get taken away either… I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

Tara looked up at Jonathan. “If you hadn’t noticed I was still breathing and insisted on taking me to the hospital to save me… I would probably be dead.”

Tara rubbed the back of her head. “Thanks for not telling the kids… I didn’t want them to worry, what with Will and all.”

Tara looked out to see Daniel play-fighting with the four. “I’m just relieved that he’s okay.”

Tara turned back to Jonathan. “How’s he been doing?”

“Fine. A lot better now.”

“I’m glad.”

There was an awkward pause before Jonathan finally got up the nerve to speak again.

“Tara… I… about what you asked me… if I love you—“

“It’s okay, Jonathan. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”

Tara took a breath to exit the kitchen when Jonathan grabbed her hand. The two looked up and noticed they were under the mistletoe. Tara’s face turned red as she looked away when Jonathan grabbed her chin and planted one right on her lips.

Tara was instantly flustered. She struggled to collect her words as she looked up. “Wait… do you really love me?”

“I think so.”

“But then, does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but can we take this slow?” Jonathan asked. “I want to be absolutely sure that I do this right.”

“Of course.”

The two went back into the living room not consciously realising that they were now holding hands just in time to see Sam get down on one knee, presenting a ring to Gabby.

“Gabby, we had some crazy times, especially as of late, but I couldn’t imagine it with literally anyone else. Will you do me the honour and the privilege of being my wife?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Gabby said, putting the ring on her finger as they kissed, earning jeers from the younger crowd.

Tara leaned into Jonathan as he put an arm around her, knowing that little moments like these were the precious gems of life. And no matter what horrors the future bore, Tara would cling to these little precious gems for dear life.

So that was act I! It ended cheesy, I know! But act II onwards is where the story really gets meaty (and saucy if you’re into that sort of thing) so stay tuned!

[icharchivist]

Okay I’m stopping here for tonight (this liveblog session lasted about 5 to 6 hours and I think I lost about 5 or 6 followers in the meantime lmao)

I’m sorry tho but I’m really trying to catch on o(-( officially since the York New arc is over it should go quicker and I should post less, because I was seriously posting almost every pages of the YN arc (because the troupe and ofc Kurapika and Leorio that was important) - not to mention I save every panel of Kurapika so now that Kurapika isn’t there anymore I have less things to do. Already my few reading of the Greed Island arc had been quicker.

And I’m trying to be a little more efficient to reach the Dark Continant Arc since it’s still a mystery to me and I want to read it after having re-read the full manga, so I need to finish reading it. (and with the number of people I dragged in hxh and who are ahead of me at this point... I gotta be quick)

So I’ll try reading more the next following days. Sorry guys ^^” 

Anyway see yaa o/

[classylo]

home for the holidays | bucky barnes

summary: part 4 | too far | reader and Bucky continue their fake love-affair to impress the family… but perhaps it’s starting to go too far?

warnings: 18+ ONLY | ANGST BABY ANGST, mentions of kissing/18+ thoughts, family-gatherings, reader slow to realize some...things, bucky is sweet perhaps too sweet, cuss words, lil fluff

You walk back into the kitchen and try to force whatever the fuck just happened out of your memory.

He smelt so good.

His grip was so tight yet comforting.

And fuck... was he a good kisser.

You stand there unaware of the faces you are making as you try to reason with yourself that you just finally kissed your roommate when your mom walks up behind you.

“Everything okay, honey?” She questions.

You bring yourself back into reality and give her an affirming nod.

She smiles at you and reaches her hand out to you, you grab onto it and she pulls you towards her.

“I like him. I like him a lot.” She whispers.

You feel a warmth overcome you and you try to force a smile.

"Me too." You admit. The words slipping out of your mouth before you could really processes them.

You don't know what you were expecting to happen by forcing Bucky to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend but you did not think it was going to involve your family actually liking him.

Involve...you actually liking him?

“Why did you keep him such a secret?” She raises an eyebrow and jokingly pushes at you.

You let out a half-laugh-half-cough because you’ve always struggled when lying to your mom…well to her face that is.

You contemplate telling her the whole truth about you and Bucky when you feel a hand wrap around your waist.

“Boo,” Bucky says as he kisses your temple.

One kiss on the lips and you two are practically having sex in front of your mom in the kitchen.

Lovely.

His touch feels so nice that you can’t help but lean back into him… much to his surprise. His grip around your waist tightens and you two stand there as if you’re posing for prom pictures.

Your mom has the biggest smile on her face and you can tell she is just so happy for you.

You glance up at him and smile as this feels like the most natural thing in the world. He smiles down at you and you swear for a second he's gonna lean down and kiss you once more, but before he even gets the chance to you're interrupted by your mom.

“Alright you two love-birds, go set the table it's time to eat.” Your mom rolls her eyes and walks off.

Bucky and you set the table and then sit down beside each other.

“So, did you enjoy your lego time?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I do love legos… but I wouldn’t have minded staying under that mistletoe a little longer.” He smirks and your heart skips several beats.

You begin to speak, to continue this little tease-session, but everyone starts making their way into the dining room. The table is filled with all the usual dishes and I glance over to see Bucky’s mouth practically watering.

You let out a laugh and he looks at you and rolls his eyes. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh as a way to say you were just joking and his infamous smirk appears on his face.

His hand plops down on top of yours and he squeezes it gently.

Your family begins to eat and the conversation moves from football to work to Bucky's family back home in New York.

He is such a conversationalist and you never even realized it. He’s so charming and funny that he has everyone’s attention as he tells stories from his youth.

Either he is really good at acting or you are the stupidest person in the world to push all your feelings for him away.

It’s probably the latter.

It’s definitely the latter.

Your hand moved from Bucky’s thigh when you started eating but he found ways to touch you throughout the dinner.

Whether it was grazing his leg against yours, or reaching his hand out to squeeze your thigh.

He was oddly affectionate and you didn’t mind it.

You all reached your stomach's max capacity fairly quickly. Bucky stood up and began grabbing plates and you pulled at his arm.

“Hey it's okay, I’ll get it.” You stand up and begin grabbing the plates around the table.

“How about we do it together, hm, doll?” He smirks at you.

You watch the way his eyes dart down to your lips and the way his nose scrunches as he awaits your response.

Jesus. Has he always been this fucking attractive?

You simply nod your head and make your way into the kitchen and set up shop.

“Alright, I will wash and you can dry.” You say as you grab the soap from under the sink.

He laughs at you and pushes you out of the way with his hips.

“I’ve seen the way you clean our dishes at home, no way.” He continues laughing and grabs the soap from your hands.

“Hey! What the hell is that supposed to mean!” You attempt to grab the soap from him and he pulls it away.

“You’re a messy girl, sweets.” He scoffs at you and picks up the hose to the sink.

You grab the hand towel and roll your eyes.

“Oh, fuck off, James.” You mutter, the use of his first name was supposed to be a dig at him. But you both liked the way it sounded falling from your lips.

He looks at you and bites down on his lip.

He raises an eyebrow his eyes are a cold blue.

You are too mesmerized by his beautiful fucking face that you don’t realize he is pointing the sink hose at you.

You catch it too late and are immediately soaked by water.

“Bucky!” You yelp and he lets out a guttural laugh.

You slap at him and he continues drenching you with cold ass water. He eventually stops the water but continues his laughing.

“You fucking dick!” You yell at him. He stops his laughing and gives you a sweet attempt at a pouty face.

“Aw is my baby girl mad…” he says and takes a step towards you.

You try to keep up your pissed-off act but he takes another step into you and grabs the towel from your hand.

He begins wiping the water from your face and you let out a small sigh. He smirks down at you and bites on his lip once again…Jesus Christ this man.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He whispers and almost instinctively wraps his hands around your waist.

Before you know it your hands are in his hair and you are pulling him down into a kiss.

This time it’s a bit more sloppy than the mistletoe since you don’t have an audience.You run your fingers through his hair and he lets out a small moan into your mouth.

If being in his embrace wasn’t enough to make you wet then that sure as fuck was.

You melt further into his embrace and his tongue meets yours. His hands leave your waist to gently squeeze your ass and now it's your turn to moan.

You two eventually pull away for air, remembering you're standing in the kitchen of your parent's house.

He looks at you in awe, almost as if he was as shocked as you. Almost as if this kiss meant as much to him as it did to you.

“I…uh…” You begin to say and he reaches his hand up and grabs ahold of your face.

“Doll — we gotta talk.” He says with the utmost seriousness, his lawyer voice you usually joke.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I shouldn’t have done that.” You cut him off as you try to step back from him.

He pulls you by your waist back into him.

“But I wanted you to.” He whispers.

“Buck —“

“No, Y/N. I — this isn’t pretend for me, okay? I’m sorry I’ve let it go on for this long but I can’t keep acting like I’m not enjoying this. Like I don’t want this to be real. I want us to be real."

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

What have you done? You let this go too far.

“Buck, I think you’re just caught up in what’s happening. It’s been a lot thrown at you and I should have never put you in this position.” You say as you pull from his grasp.

“Doll, I’m serious. I’ve liked you for a long time and I just didn’t know if you felt the —“

“I don’t. I don’t feel the same. We’re roommates. We’re friends. I put you on the spot and I’m sorry, Bucky, I know you’re just confused.” You attempt to reason with him.

He narrows his gaze at you. He thought… he could’ve sworn you felt the same way. He’s felt it the past few days. He’s seen the ways you stare at him. He thought you felt what he felt.

You watch as his face contorts from confusion to … disgust? You quickly can tell this is going to a place you won't like, so you pull away and slowly step back.

“I— I need to go change.” You out and run to your room.

You slam the door and lean against it.

What. Have. You. Done.

a/n: ...the angst !!!! I'm sorry !!!! </3

part 3 // part 5 (end)

taglist: @mutifandomkid | @everythingiloveandcherish | @shadytalementality | @scxletrecsmarvel | @beefybuckrrito | @ria132love | @wickedravyn | @elizamalfoyy | @stonedxsoldier | @inhumanwithpowers | @samthemarvelfan | @hysteriadarling | @missvelvetsstuff | @alexie-caesarion | @wolfbloodgirl | @capmanranger | @general-latino | @folklorelake | @ambiguousretrograde | @lostyx | @happyt0exist | @astridmargrethe | @buckysmetalarmholder | @pandareesstuff | @enchantedbarnes | @buckysswinter | @vicmc624 | @emetophilily | @expominds | @emmabarnes | @johnricharddeacy | @seafrost-fangirl | @skyfallslayer | @definitelynotcyera | @theheadliner | @hoe-4-sebstan | @incorgnito7 | @imjustace | @incorgnito7 | @joannarabbit | @stucky-my-ship | @theokatz | @chary-tings | @itsaliceheree | @arethosepotatoes | @michaelfuckinglangdon | @deadofspring | @writing-red | @virtual-meow | 

[networkluvs]

word count: around 1k

warnings: none! :D

a/n: thank you to @januarystars once again for helping me edit and review this portion! my misty, I love you very much n I'm so grateful for all you do! <3

---

dear y/n,

here is a disposable camera so you can capture every fun memory you have! I suggest saving some space for the christmas party, I have a feeling lots of memories will be made :)

with love, you secret santa

---

“Hey party people!” Misty yelled out as they entered Joshua’s large apartment. You giggled slightly as you took off your shoes at the front entrance along with Wonwoo, carrying a box full of ornaments in your hand.

A distressed Seokmin came rushing in to greet you, a clipboard in his hand while scolding, “You’re late, get to work! Poor Jihoon had to set up the tree all by himself!”

“My bad, Seokmin!” you apologized, finding it a tad funny how serious Seokmin was taking this party. As you took in the surroundings around you, the scents of pine cones and warm vanilla infiltrated your lungs, and a Christmas playlist (Joshua’s playlist most likely) blasted in the living room as everyone was doing their assigned tasks. Misty nudged you before squealing, “Look who’s under the mistletoe~”

You didn’t even have to peep to know who it was. Jihoon was silently sorting the tree ornaments underneath the mistletoe placed in the kitchen’s cased opening. It felt almost intentional that the tree was placed near the mistletoe, but you brushed it aside as you walked up to the man sitting on the floor. You felt your face heat up when saying, “H-Hi.”

Jihoon could only look up at you and give you his heart-melting grin, “Hi Y/N, wanna sit?”

He patted the floor space next to him. As you quietly placed the box on the floor and sat down, Jihoon continued to give you instructions, “I just finished putting the lights around the tree, so, right now I’m sorting basic ornaments from the more…” he scratched his head looking at a poorly homemade, clay tiger ornament, making you giggle, “Decorative ornaments let’s say. I see you have a box with you? Are those more ornaments?”

››

“Yeah, they are,” you said, taking out a few ornaments. It was only when you took out the white rabbit ornaments that Jihoon commented, “Those are cute ornaments. Who gave them to you?”

Of course Jihoon called them cute; he picked them out after all. You giggled slightly before replying, “Oh, you know, a special someone gave them to me.”

“Really?” he giggled as well, making your heart flutter.

Seokmin raised a brow when he came by from making his rounds around the apartment and scolded you even more, “You two! Stop flirting and get to work!”

You could hear laughter erupt from the kitchen, causing your face to burn up even more. As you looked up at Jihoon, you could see the redness flush on his cheeks and ears. “How cute,” you thought to yourself.

—

You and Jihoon continued to decorate the tree, placing the basic ornaments first. There was a system to decorate the tree and you enjoyed that. You stood on top of the stepping stools, placing the ornaments wherever felt right, and Jihoon would hand you an ornament while praising your work. When it was time for the decorative ornaments, Jihoon grabbed the poorly made tiger ornament and whispered in your ear, “Place this near the back so Soonyoung won’t notice.”

You giggled slightly, doing exactly what was told, soon after picking up the rabbit ornaments from Jihoon’s hand and positioning them sporadically on the tree. He smiled at the display, grabbing some more ornaments and placing them on the tree himself. “It looks beautiful, Y/N. They’re going to like it.”

“You think?” You smiled while putting the last ornament on the tree.

Jihoon smiled back, grabbing the star and handing it over to you, “I know so.”

As you stood on the highest part of the stepping stool, you realized immediately you couldn’t reach the top. Jihoon took notice of this, shortly after asking, “Need help, love?”

“Y-Yeah.” You mumbled under your hitched breath while walking off the stepping stool.

You handed the star to Jihoon as he escalated on the stool. As he placed the star perfectly on the top of the tree with ease, you could see his face light up with satisfaction, “Perfect.”

When he greeted you back onto the kitchen floor, he made sure to plug the Christmas tree for the final touch, which automatically flashed with multiple colors. You swore when the Christmas tree lit up, you could hear bells chime in the distance. Jihoon giggled before pulling you closer, “It looks so good! We did great!”

You smiled in contentment while looking at the tree and then at him. For a moment, you and Jihoon glanced at each other, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a knife. He scoped the surroundings, making sure no one was looking before leaning in to softly place a kiss on your forehead, “You did so well, baby.”

“W-What was that for?” you managed to ask.

Jihoon’s heart-melting grin had made a comeback when he replied, “Look at what we’re under.”

The two of you looked up, spotting the damned leafy plant hanging underneath the cased opening. You scoffed before jokingly blurting out, “Aren’t mistletoe kisses meant to be on the lips?”

Before you could register what you had said, Jihoon’s warm hands cupped your face while giving you a quick peck on the lips. Your heart began to pound, and your eyes widened for a moment before Jihoon began to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Y/N… I don’t know what came over me…”

Without thinking, you delicately cupped Jihoon’s cheeks and leaned in for a kiss. You blocked out all the cheering from the kitchen, only focusing on Jihoon and the way his lips felt against yours. As you deepened the kiss, you began noticing how his warm breath tickled the area beneath your nose. His hands found their way towards your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. In this moment, everything was perfect, and you wanted to savor every part of it.

---

adore you | mistletoe

synopsis: in which your lonely friend group tries to get into the christmas spirit by holding a secret santa party. to your surprise however, your special secret santa jihoon likes to give you gifts everyday until christmas.

taglist: @wuriwoori @solarbxby @sansbyeol @xfirebenderx @cloudyhaos @iho6hi @http-mewchuu @cheolsblackgf @baesgyus @erens-piss-cleaner @lynniac @leech4ns @imaginegot7bangtan @sakura-uji @timelessruins @currently-existing @lebritneeey @fav9yu @sunniesoobin @atomoonchild @anjiuniverse @coookiemonster @vanillxangxl @coupsiekkuma @kamikokii @odetoyeonjun @pengu-hours @makiswrld

couldn't tag: @bbarneybarnes @wooziwooziwoozioioioi @yeeeeezly @mulletdinos @svtster

previous | masterlist | next

---

bonus!

[screechesincoherently]

The Cop Out- Sam Kiszka

Part 4 - Girls Have Cooties

Masterlist

Synopsis: Sam’s mind wanders and he gets nostalgic

Warnings: Swearing, Vegan Cookies

Word Count: 1,741

In Collaboration With: @capturethechaos

“Sam, where the hell do you keep the vanilla extract?” Y/n asked, looking through each of the cupboards.

“In the cupboard babe.”

“Yeah no shit Samuel, which fucking cupboard though.” She asked, turning to face him, a hand on her hip.

He walked over, stepping as close as he could, pressing her against the counter and reaching behind her. He pulled the vanilla extract from the cupboard, the exact cupboard she had just looked in.

“Right here babe.”

“What the fuck? I literally just looked in that goddamn cupboard for two whole minutes.”

“You’ve still got to get used to my organization, you only moved in a couple weeks ago.”

“Why is it that I have to get used to your organization? Why can’t it be my version of organized?”

“How about, once we’re done making cookies, we make it our version of organized?” He said, leaning in with a wide smile spread across his face.

“I suppose. But you’re pretty stubborn so I’m not sure how well this will go on my part.”

“Well we’ll just have to see now won’t we?” Sam said, leaning in to kiss her.

“We have cookies to make Samuel, not right now.” She said, dipping under his arm and taking the vanilla from him to add to the cookies.

He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his head into the crook of her neck.

“Keep trying to distract me and these might not end up vegan. I take my baking very seriously.”

“So do I.”

“I like to bake, you get baked, we are not the same.”

“Listen Y/n, I’m just not like other girls.”

She let out a small chuckle, moving to reach for the flour.

“I’m so funny.” He said, keeping his grip tight on her waist to stop her from moving.

“I promise that if you don’t start helping me with these cookies, I will not be making them vegan. That is a threat babe.”

“And how are you planning on getting to the eggs babe?” He said, squeezing against her.

“Keep testing me and you’ll find out.”

“Wow Y/n, I’m so scared.” He chuckled.

She smiled to herself and mumbled a “Fuck you” to her boyfriend.

“Any time baby.” He whispered, spinning her around to face him.

“And that was your mistake.” She said, placing her hands on his side and beginning to tickle him. As he recoiled, she took the opportunity to get into the fridge and grab the small carton of eggs he let her have.

“Babe no.” Sam whined

“Then help me bake these fucking cookies!” Y/n said laughing.

“Fine.” He groaned, taking the eggs from her hand and placing them back into the fridge.

The two got working, eventually swapping tasks from the cookie dough to the frosting.

Once the dough was in the oven and the frosting was done, Sam walked into the living room pulling out a Christmas album and placing it on the record player.

Y/n paced around the kitchen, tidying up.

“Babe, slow down, we can do this later.” He said, grabbing the bowls from her hands and placing them back on the counter.

“But knowing you, they’ll be sitting on the counter for the next week.”

“Just come dance with me.” He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into his chest.

She reluctantly gave in, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He smiled at her, tightening the grip on her waist as he moved them out of the kitchen. She moved along with him, curious to see where he was leading them. Sam came to an abrupt stop, making Y/n bump into him.

“Babe.” He said.

“Yeah Sammy?” She said, looking up at him and meeting his intense gaze.

“Look up.”

She did, and hanging above them was a sprig of mistletoe. Her gaze fell back onto her boyfriend, a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

“Cheesy enough for you?” He asked.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He raised his brows at her, “Gladly.”

He leaned down, their lips only millimeters from each other.

“What the fuck was that about.” Sam said groggily, sitting up in his bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness of his bedroom.

He knew that trying to sleep after that would be a struggle, so he opted for lying back down and blindly trying to grab his phone off of his bedside table. He knew exactly where it was, and he could feel it, but he was just kind of absentmindedly tapping on his phone screen while he stared at the ceiling.

“Hey. You’ve reached Y/n, I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave me a message or text me I’ll try to get back to you as soon as possible!”

He heard the quiet message playing over his phone, and shot up from his position as he heard the message tone, hitting his phone off of the bedside table as a reflex.

“Shit!”

He keeled over the edge of the bed, looking under the bed from his phone.

“Fuck.”

“Shit ow!” He said, realizing that he was leaning on a particularly sensitive region of his body that he had not previously realized he was having an issue with.

“Ah fuck, not that too.”

As he picked up the phone, he mumbled into the speaker, “Sorry, I sleep dialed you. I’ll talk to you later.”

When he hung up he placed the phone back down and sat at the edge of his bed.

“What the hell. That wasn’t cool.”

Just as Sam was going to crawl back under the sheets, his phone lit up with a text from Y/n.

Giggles: Hey, everything okay?

Sam: Yea, sorry everything’s good. Why are you up?

Giggles: You called me at 2 in the morning. What if something happened?

The thought of her worrying about him sent butterflies flitting around in his stomach.

Sam: Nothing happened, promise. Go back to sleep, you need it.

Giggles: I woke up out of a dead sleep and couldn’t fall back asleep. Maybe someone was dreaming about me.

Sam: Hmm… sounds gross, it was probably Landon having a nasty wet dream about you

Giggles: Ew wtf Sam, why the fuck would you put that image in my head.

Sam: You know he would too ;)

Giggles: Shut the fuck up and go to sleep loser

Sam: You first Giffles

Giggles: Giffles? Wtf is a giffle?

Sam: Don’t worry about it, just go to sleep

Giggles: Omg, were you trying to type Giggles

Sam: No. Go to sleep

Giggles: I don’t think I can now… I’m too busy laffing at you

Sam: I quit. Good night

Giggles: Goodnight dumb dumb

Sam, not quite ready to fall asleep yet, slid out of bed. He grabbed his phone and walked downstairs, trying his hardest to be quiet as he walked into the living room. He looked through the shelves of old family movies, knowing the one he was looking for was in there somewhere.

Sammy and his new best friend

He pulled it from the shelf, opening the case for the first time in years before turning on the tv and placing it in the DVD player and sitting on the couch. The video had been playing for barely two minutes before Sam heard footsteps walking towards him.

“It’s a bit late to be watching home movies don’t you think sweetheart?” She said, walking over to the couch and sitting next to him.

“Sorry mom, did I wake you up? I can turn it down.” He said, reaching for the remote.

Karen stopped him before he could grab it, “No it’s alright hun. I just couldn’t sleep and I heard noise coming from the tv. I honestly expected to find Jake down here watching cooking shows.”

“Oh. Yeah, no-- I just couldn’t sleep and was feeling a bit nostalgic so I thought I’d come downstairs and watch some home movies.” Sam explained, lifting his legs to sit cross-legged on the couch.

“Mom! I made a new friend at school today!” Sam said, barely ten years old.

“What’s his name hun?” Karen asked.

“HER name is Y/n, and she is my new best friend.” He said, clearly emphasizing the first word as he spoke to his mother.

“Oh, so is she your new girlfriend?” Kelly said to his son.

“Ew dad no, girls have cooties, that’s gross.”

“Kelly, knock it off. So Sammy, what’s she like?”

“She’s so cool, mom! She came to class today with her Pokémon cards!”

“Is that the only reason you like her Sam? Because she has Pokémon cards.” Kelly asked, chuckling at Sam.

“NO! She's awesome, mom! Today Jake was teasing me after school and she walked up and punched him!” He said, his excitement bubbling out of him as he spoke.

“She’s a bitch.” Jake grumbled, walking past his brother on the porch.

“Watch your language Jacob!” Karen said.

“You really did love her from the moment you met.” Karen said, looking to Sam, whose eyes were now glued to his phone, a picture of him and Y/n lighting up his phone screen.

“Still do mom.”

“I know you do, and I know she feels the same way. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a while.”

Sam thought about how happy he was, but it was eventually hindered by the remembrance of the relationship not being real.

Karen stood and walked around the couch, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Ask her to be your girlfriend Sam, for real.”

“She is my girlfr- wait, how did you know?” Sam asked, whipping around to face her.

“I’m your mother Sam, I know things--” She said, walking towards the stairs.

“--I also may have heard more of your phone call than I originally let on.”

Sam sat, baffled by the realization for a few minutes before the tv screen went dark. He stood from the couch, getting the disc from the DVD player and putting it back on the shelf. He made it a few steps towards the stairs before he spun on his heels, taking a couple long strides towards the shelf and plucking the case away from the others.

He walked up to his bedroom, case in hand, mind racing. The moment he closed his bedroom door he dropped face first onto his bed.

“What am I going to do?”

Taglist:

@gretavanwinkle @gvfrry @theweightofstardust @jessssssi @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @chalametpwk @cowboysamkiszka @katie-gvf @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @thehippieelement @welightthefire @h-e-l-l-o-s @lucidliving1205 @kaylal15

[holden-caulfield]

Traditions

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii may i request a draco x reader where they’re bestfriends atm but they both have feeling for each other and none of them is willing to tell anything. it’s winter, then they end up under a mistletoe. But the key is that the mistletoe only spawns above those who both love each other."

SUMMARY: y/n and draco find themselves under some mistletoe.

WARNINGS: none!!

WORD COUNT: 797

A/N: i'm not sure about this one, i've been feeling really unmotivated and uninspired... idk

"You're really not gonna tell her?" spoke Blaise incredulously.

"Of course not, i'm not gonna make a fool of myself." said Draco haughtily, but it was evident there was a touch of fear in his voice.

"You already are a fool, might as well ask her out." added Theo Nott from his bed.

Draco shot him a deadly glare before deciding he was ready to descend the stairs towards the common room.

"You should just tell him, y/n!" said Pansy, her tone slightly annoyed at your stubbornness.

"You know i'm not, you can stop telling me." you declared, sitting on your bed waiting for your friends to get ready.

It was the final day of school before the winter break; that meant saying goodbye to all your friends as if it was the last time you'd see each other forever, only to see them again in january.

You finally reached the common room, at the same time the boys did. A fortuity.

You caught Draco's gaze before everyone else's, always so calm and collected. He smiled at you, a rare occurrence because the boy's face never showed particular signs of happiness.

You smiled back, the joy of having finished the tests until next year showing through the bright grin directed to the boy.

You opted to talk to him, not to confess your feelings, you wouldn't have. It was nothing but a crush, one that didn't need to be revealed.

He saw you approaching and the thought of disclosing his love crossed his mind, but he wouldn't have. No, he wouldn't.

"Off to Paris, Malfoy?" you started jokingly, knowing about the Malfoys' usual 'common and boring' trips, as Draco frequently described them.

"Italy, most probably, it's much better." you giggled and you would have continued your casual conversation hadn't it been for your friends calling you.

"Y/n, Draco..."

"Yes, we're coming."

"No..." you stopped yourself to stare at your friends but they simply pointed out a spot just above your head.

You and Draco looked up to find mistletoe, mouths slightly agape at the unexpected coincidence.

You let out a laugh that sounded more like a heavy breath as you kept on staring at the plant above you, utterly scared of what might happen if you crossed his stormy eyes instead.

He seemed to have the same idea, keeping his gaze on the mistletoe, jaw clenched.

"Maybe you should... y'know..." started Pansy with her usual shrilly tone that only appeared when something exciting was happening.

Draco finally looked at you, but you didn't dare lower your regard.

"We shouldn't-"

"It'd be just a kiss, bad things happen to those who break traditions..." uttered Theo much like a prophet, interrupting Draco and his weak attempt at restraining himself.

"It'd be... just a kiss, right?" you finally spoke, barely audible, but Draco's ears understood your dulcet voice perfectly.

"Only if you want." he stated clearly, but you both wanted it. You had wanted it since the day you had met. But the courage to actually make the first step always seemed too weak in comparison to the will to maintain your friendship, the fear the sentiment might not have been reciprocated.

You tentatively closed the distance and he followed gladly. Lips finally touching after so much longing.

It was an instant you wished last forever, but under the curious gazes of your nosey friends you deemed it best to stop.

His cheeks were now scarlet and your own certainly felt hot after the searing moment you had just exchanged. You blamed the sudden heat on the observers, but you both knew the real reason.

"Well?" asked Daphne, leaning towards the two of you almost as if she was watching the most important scene of her favourite tv show.

"Well what? It was nothing, just- a friendly kiss, wasn't it?" you replied, staring at Draco once more.

"It would have been, but that is magical mistletoe." stated Blaise, pointing to the plant hanging above you. You lifted your gaze and noticed it had considerably grown since the last time you saw it, red berries adorning its every branch.

"And?" asked Draco, an eyebrow raising up in question and slight annoyance. Typical, but you couldn't help but love it.

"It only spawns above those who love each other."

At that point, your body was like on fire and you felt your limbs suddenly go rigid. You wanted to do something but it was impossible.

"Very funny. Hilarious, really." continued Draco, trying to play it off, but his eyes displayed something else, uncertainty.

"Try moving, it'll spawn there too." spoke Blaise, incredibly amused.

"I swear i would have told you." you suddenly said, catching everyone's attention. "At some point."

"No, you wouldn't." shrieked Pansy.

He smirked, "Then good thing this happened."

taglist - @turn-to-page-394-please @gwlvr @dracosaccount @henqtic @dracomalfoys-wh0re @eunoniaa @oeuryale @wh0re4blaise @harmqnia @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @maybesandohnos @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @bungunz @malfoysbiitch @dreamy-clousds @malfoyxxdraco23 @saayanaaa @xlauren-malfoyx @riddleswh0r3crux @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @elevatorsdoor @dracoscene @beforeoursunsets @bby-gxrnet @desiredmalfoy @marrymetheonott @o-rion-sta-r @justreadingficsdontmindme @mollysolo @cheriedraco @prettygirlkay @dlmmdl @chaoticgirl04 @badass-yn @peachybaes

[if your name is crossed out, check your privacy settings! if you don't want to be tagged anymore, tell me!]

[emilyshotchniss]

Tis’ the Damn Season

my first mini-fic in nearly a year is finally here! it’s hotchniss at christmas and i really hope you like it :)

for the lovely and incomparable @sequinsmile-x , whose fics have brought me so much joy and comfort throughout this shitty shitty year and because she deserves all the good things<3

special mention to @whitecrossgirl for inspiring this one! think of it as a continuation of Mistletoe Kiss!

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none, just the fluffiest shit ever<3

read on ao3 or below the cut!

When Emily stepped foot into the bullpen, she was quite literally lost for words. Seemingly overnight, their everyday office had been transformed into Santas Grotto, decorations covering every inch of the office.

“Garcia,” She called, as Penelope sheepishly stepped out of the kitchen and into Emilys line of sight.

“Didnt Hotch talk to you about all this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Emily, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Penelope said matter of factly.

“I thought he told you to only decorate your office,” she questioned.

“Emily, I really have no clue what you’re taking about, I did only decorate my lair.” Garcia said as if it was the most simple thing ever.

“So then who did this?” Emily asked, suppressing a laugh, gesturing to the office.

“I don’t know- Ooh! Maybe it was the ELVES!” Garcia squealed.

“Funny,” She scoffed. “I didn’t know elves had blonde hair and wore rainbow platform heels to work” Emily deadpanned, before settling at her desk.

She glanced up to Hotch’s office, and realised his door was wide open, listening in to their entire exchange. She met his eyes with a faint blush and a smile, as he grinned back at her, gently rolling his eyes at Garcias antics. She got on with her paperwork, ignoring the rapid fluttering in her stomach.

The day went on, a festive atmosphere flowing through the bullpen as Christmas music filled the air, making the the most of a case-free day. Emily finished the last file in her current pile, and stood from her desk to hand it to Hotch.

“Anyone need files taken up?” She asked her teammates.

“We’re all good sugar,” Morgan replied, earning a smile from the brunette. She made her way up the stairs, and entered Hotch’s office. The moment she disappeared from view, the team leapt into action.

“Go JJ go!” Garcia whispered (loudly, but still, the effort was appreciated).

Derek quickly placed tape on the piece of mistletoe and handed it off to JJ. She was tasked with placing it above Hotch’s office doorway, in a desperate attempt to get their friends to finally face whatever they’d clearly been dancing around for months, if not years.

She tiptoed up the stairs then walked casually to his door, reaching up and sticking the mistletoe up quickly on her way by, upping her pace to a rapid speed walk to get back to the others surrounding Dereks desk once she’d completed her mission.

“Nice work pennsylvania petite,” Derek said playfully, gently nudging her in the ribs.

So… what now?” Reid asked the group.

“We wait, mio figlio.” Rossi replied, seemingly appearing from thin air, startling the group.

They watched Hotch’s office for what felt like hours, until finally they saw Emily approach the door, Hotch following close behind her.

“Thanks Prentiss, if you could just sign off on that last one that would be great.” He told her, clearing his throat.

“No problem Hotch,” She replied, stepping closer to the doorway.

“Oh jesus christ,” Rossi muttered shaking his head.

“This better work Derek, because I cannot continue to watch them act like fools around each other much longer. I’m too old for it.”

“Have faith my friend… have faith,” Derek said before whistling to the pair of agents on the catwalk.

“Hey lovebirds, look up,” He smirked, not even attempting to hide his amusement.

His comment startled the pair of agents, and as soon as they realised what was happening, they were both flushing red. Hotch awkwardly cleared his throat again whilst Emily stared at the floor.

“It’s okay, we don’t- we don’t have to,” She mumbled, attempting to hide the blush across her cheeks.

“No, no, it’s fine. Really,” He replied with a smile, sensing she was uncomfortable and attempting to alleviate some of the tension suddenly enveloping them.

Before she even realised what was happening, his hand was on her arm and his lips were brushing against her cheek, ghosting over the corner of her mouth. She began to relax into his touch, but the moment was over before she knew it, and reality set back in. He stepped back from her, giving her space, but when he looked at her he could’ve sworn she looked almost… disappointed.

He pushed that thought away as quickly as it came to him and squeezed her arm before handing her the file back.

“Thanks, Hotch, thanks, yeah I’ll, I’ll sign that right now…” She trailed off, giving him a tight-lipped smile before returning to her desk.

“Back to work everyone.” Hotch said, the stoic mask back in place as he re-entered his office, closing the door behind him.

“What are you guys looking at?” Emily said, a failed attempt at being stern.

“Nothing, n-nothing,” They all mumbled before heading back to their respective desks.

When she thought she was out of the spotlight, she took her hand and gently traced where his lips met her skin with her fingers.

She didn’t realise was they were all still watching her over their computers, beaming with glee.

The day drew to a close, everybody filtering out at a reasonable hour for once. Emily hit the button on the elevator, and stepped inside, when a hand slid through the doors, and a deep voice boomed into the silence, and she froze.

“Hold the elevator! Oh, hey, Prentiss,”

“Hey, Hotch,” She breathed.

“Did you uh, did you talk to Garcia, about santas grotto?” She smirked at him.

“Despite her desperate attempts to convince me that it was in fact Santas elves that broke into the behavioural analysis unit, yes, I spoke to her and eventually she agreed to tone it down a little.” He laughed.

“God, he really needs to smile more…” She thought to herself.

“It was fun today though, the decorations, and music, plus not having a case,” She smiled.

“Yeah, yeah it was,” He smiled back.

They fell into an awkward silence, the tension between them thickening. Finally, god, finally the elevator arrived at the parking lot.

“Right, uh, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Hotch.” She said, making her way out of the elevator.

“Oh, uh, let me walk you to your car.” He replied, not quite ready to say goodbye to her.

“Oh it’s okay, my car’s just down there Hotch, thank you though,” She smiled. “Goodnight.”

And then she was off, her car fading out of view and exiting the garage, whilst he remained frozen in place. Pulling himself together, he followed suit and headed home not far behind her.

He’d been home for nearly two hours when he heard a knock at the door. He moved through his apartment and answered his door, puzzled when he found Emily standing in his doorway.

“Emily? it’s nine thirty, what are you doing here?”

She had changed out of her usual work attire into a pair of yoga pants and a yale sweatshirt, that even after all this time still looked a few sizes too big on her slender frame. It took him back to those early days in her mothers mansion, when she was known only as the ambassadors “wild child”. It took his breath away for a split second.

“Can-Can I come in?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

“Sure, yeah, of course.” He replied, her demeanour worrying him ever so slightly, stepping aside to let her through.

“Is everything alright?” He asked her tentatively.

“Honestly? No, no it’s not alright,” She said, exhaling deeply. She spoke again after he was silent for a beat, clearly confused.

“Hotch, what are we doing?” She asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” He asked her, despite already knowing the answer.

“This. Us. This thing we’ve been avoiding.”

More silence. “God, Aaron, say something to her. Say anything, jesus, why weren’t any words coming out?” He thought to himself.

“Look, Hotch, I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I have to be honest with you. I can’t keep living like this.” She replied shakily.

“Like what?” He replied, her comment genuinely confusing him for a second.

“Like I’m not in love with you.” She choked out, her eyes glassing over as she smacked a hand over her mouth, regretting ever opening it in the first place.

That got his attention. He looked up at her, finding her close to tears, eyes shining in the glow of the fairy lights from his tree and immediately felt the overwhelming urge to touch her. To comfort her in the way he’d been longing to for years.

Did she think he didn’t feel the same?

Had he made her feel like that?

He was by her side in two strides, taking her hands in his.

“You love me?” He asked.

“Forget it Hotch, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry for barging in.” She replied, avoiding his eyes and attempting to free herself from his grasp. He placed his hands on either side of her chin, turning her head gently back towards his gaze.

“Emily.” He pressed, needing to know how she truly felt. “You love me.” He stated simply, his expression softening.

“I know I shouldn’t, and I’m sorry - you’re my boss, I’m your subordinate, it goes against like every HR rule in the book, but I do. And I know that’s not fair to drop on you like this, you’ve been through enough and god, you don’t need some emotionally stunted screw up to-“

She wasn’t talking anymore, she realised, as she felt his lips on hers, and suddenly something clicked. She relaxed into his embrace, deepening the kiss until they were short of breath.

He pulled away chest heaving, tucking a stray piece of raven hair behind her ear.

“Emily… I love you too.” He said, as he felt his own eyes grow glassy now. Blinking quickly, he continued.

“I think deep down I always have. Ever since I first saw you, roaming the halls of your mothers mansion, wreaking havoc wherever you went.” He said with a reminiscent smile, watching as one began to grow across her own face too. “I’m so sorry if I ever made you believe otherwise.”

A sob escaped her then, the emotion she’d been fighting so hard to keep hidden spilling over the surface.

“God, for two profilers we really are unbelievably stupid.” She laughed, a tear escaping her eye. He caught it as it fell, wiping it from her cheek with a feather light touch, as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

As he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb and looked at her, he realised that she might just be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. In the glow of the christmas lights, he could see the shine of her hair, and the soft brown of her eyes up close, and he internally cursed himself for wasting so much time.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to make a move.” He smiled. Her hands came up and settled behind his neck.

“I’m sorry for making you think i didn’t feel the same. And I’m sorry you feel like you’re an emotionally stunted screw up because let me assure you… you’re anything but.” He said firmly, as she tensed in his hold.

“Aaron,” She began, but he cut her off.

“No. You’re the best agent on this team, the best friend to this team, the glue that holds this team together. We fell apart when you were gone - I didn’t know how we were going to recover. But from the moment you came back to us, everything finally felt like it would be okay again. So don’t you dare call yourself an ‘emotionally stunted screw-up’.” He tilted her chin back towards his face, watching her blink back the tears that threatened to fall.

“God, I’ve wanted to tell you that for months…” He laughed nervously.

“You need to smile more.” She told him, running a thumb over his dimple. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for months.”

“So… we’re gonna do this then? Us?” She asked hesitantly.

“I think we’d be stupid to waste anymore time.” He replied, smiling as she blew out a breath she’d clearly been holding.

“Thank god.” She laughed, as he pulled her into a tight hug.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked into her shoulder.

“We could watch a movie or something, and I uh- I can give you a t-shirt to sleep in, or not, if you don’t want to stay that’s completely fine-“ He was cut off.

“Aaron,” She started. “I’d love to.” She replied, fingers threading through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“But it is getting late, so maybe we could take a rain-check on the movie?”

“Of course we can,” He smiled. “I’ll go grab you a t-shirt.”

“Oh, uh, do you have a spare blanket, you know, for the couch?” She asked him.

“You are not taking the couch.” He told her firmly, and she blushed at their unspoken understanding.

He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, grabbing an old Beatles t-shirt from his drawer for her. He ducked into the bathroom quickly, allowing her to change and to take a moment to steady himself. He re-entered his bedroom to find Emily tucked under his duvet, looking impossibly tiny in his big bed. Making his way to his side of the mattress, he joined her, and she instantly moulded to his side, resting her head on his chest, tucking it under his chin.

“Thank you.” She said, barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For telling me how much I’m needed. No one’s ever told me those things before.” She croaked our, fighting tears again.

He pulled her even closer to him and held her tight, one hand wrapped around her middle, the other stroking her hair.

“I should’ve told you sooner. I meant every word.” He replied.

“I can’t believe I’m a better agent than Morgan,” She joked, smiling into his chest.

“Do not tell him I said that,” He laughed, pressing a kiss to her head.

He felt her yawn against him, and shifted down under the covers making them more comfortable. Readjusting her head, he resumed his motions on her hair.

“We should sleep, you’re tired.” He told her.

“Mmm… okay.” She mumbled, fighting the slumber that was overtaking her. “Goodnight Aaron.”

His heart swelled so much he was scared it was going to burst from his chest. Clearing his throat, he replied.

“Goodnight Em. This is the best Christmas present I could have asked for.” He felt her grin against his chest, and eventually they fell asleep, entwined in each other’s embrace.

After all, there was nowhere else they’d rather be.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Heloise's 3.5k Followers Sleepover [Closed!] and Writing Challenge [Closed!]

Hello my lovelies <3

On Wednesday we reached another milestone once again! I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that so many of you have been enjoying my writing. All the support I’ve gotten from my followers has been beyond my expectations and I’m just so very grateful. I never imagined getting 50 let alone 3500 followers. Mind blowing really! I wanted to do something fun for such a huge milestone and as it’s a writing blog, I thought, let’s write. I want the writers to enjoy writing and the readers to enjoy reading. However, on the other hand, I didn’t want to leave out my non-writer followers so a sleepover should be in place as well.

Therefore, welcome to⁠—

Heloise’s 3.5k followers Sleepover and Writing Challenge

Part 1. Sleepover [Closed!] (Please click on the link above!)

Part 2. Writing Challenge [Closed!] (See below the Keep Reading option!)

Let's have fun and send your Ask! ^^

Heloise's Map | Masterlists

Heloise’s 3.5k Followers Writing Challenge Masterlist

Part 2. Writing Challenge!

Disclaimer! I do not own any of the prompts listed below, they all belong to @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose and each prompt list I have used for creating this event are listed at the bottom of the post. [Numbers] next to prompts refer to the prompt lists you can find them at.

Rules!

➵ You don’t have to follow me to participate, although it would be much appreciated. ➵ Chose as many prompts as you’d like. No limits. ➵ Write for any universe and any pairings, I basically read everything. ➵ No incest, racial, religious, or sexual hate openly, not related to the story line, but to hurt others. If you have any of the above in your fic, I will not reblog it. ➵ Fluff, angst, smut, anything goes, just please use appropriate Warnings!  ➵ Use the Keep reading option above 500 words. Tutorial from phone is Here! ➵ No deadline for submission, but deadline for entry closes on 27 September 2021. Clarification: You can submit your fics even next year if you wish. End date is only for entering the event. I will not be able to accept entries after 27 September 2021. ➵ If you would like to participate, just send me an Ask with the prompt(s) and character and Reblog this post. ➵ Please use the tag #heloises3.5kcelebration and tag my name @heloisedaphnebrightmore when you post your fic. If it's not reblogged in 48 hours, please send me an Ask or DM. My tags seem to be funny at times. ➵ And most importantly, Have fun! :)

I decided to use both Scenario prompts and Dialogue prompts to take on a different approach compared to my last writing challenge.

Scenario prompts

Enemies to lovers / Tension prompts

1. “I’ll kiss you right now to prove that I don’t feel anything for you.” “Okay.” The two characters kiss, and whoops they felt something, followed by lingering, as they’re catching their breath, trying to make sense of what just happened, and the feelings rushing through them, and then there’s this urge to dive back in for another kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

2. Your enemy has never let anyone touch their scar, until you come along. [7]

@natashxromanovf (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

3. Character A and B kiss each other to prove there's nothing going on between them, but they get so caught up in each other, they prove the exact opposite. [2]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

4. For one night, Character A and B give into temptation and sleep with each other, hoping it will solve the tension building between them. It does the opposite. [2]

5. Character A and B avoid each other after sharing an intimate moment, be it a kiss, a hug, holding hands, or just looking at each other's lips longer than appropriate. [1]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

6. You're upset one night, and you don't know where to go, so you end up at your enemy's house, and as they open the door, you stay silent for a second, before saying “I don't know where else to go.” Your enemy doesn't say anything, instead they pull you into their arms, giving you a shoulder to cry on. [1]

@goddessofdawns (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

7. The best friends to lovers “Let’s just kiss to see what it’s like.” They kiss, followed by the characters pulling away, eyes still closed, forehead against forehead, lingering… and then they go in for the second kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

8. You threaten your enemy, and when they close the distance between you, you realize how attracted you truly are to them. [1]

9. Pinning your enemy against the wall. Or straddling your enemy’s hips whilst they pin your arms above your head. [1]

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

10. You end up on your enemy's lap, and you yank the belt from their pants “Let's just get this over with.” [1]

11. You're about to leave the room, but your enemy slams the door shut, and with one hand on either side of your head, barricade you against the wall... (cue the reckless make-out session). [2]

@band--psycho (x) James Potter x Reader

12. You’re sharing a bed with your enemy and being told “Stay on your side or I'll set this whole bed on fire”. Only to wake up the next day with your enemy's arms wrapped around you. [2]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

13. Your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something that cheeky bastard takes notice of. [1]

14. You've been wounded, your face is all bruised up. Your enemy puts a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes to theirs, asking “Who did this to you?”. When you don't answer, they ask you again “Who did this to you?”. [1]

@band--psycho (x) Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

@grimdevil (x) Regulus Black x Reader

15. You've just been hurt, you're bleeding out, and your enemy is freaking out, dropping the “I love you. I can't lose you” card, begging you not to close your eyes. [2]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

16. Two characters look at each other, a tense silence between them and then bang, lips crash into each other as they can’t resist anymore and then one of them pins the other against the wall. [6]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

17. You had a really good time on the date tonight, and your date is asking for a good night kiss. It was only meant to be on the cheek, but then you pull back, our eyes meet, and there's a gravitational pull pulling you closer again. [6]

18. You’ve never been kissed before so your friend volunteers, but you decline because you’ve been best friends and it would be weird. But a couple hours later you lay awake in bed and can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss them and suddenly you regret what you said. [6]

@queen-of-brokenhearts (x) Hermione Granger x Female!Reader

Intimate / Domestic prompts

19. You are wearing your lover’s clothes when they say, “Can I get my shirt/hoodie back?” and you say “No.” or “Come and get it.”. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

20. You're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. You begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise. [3]

@band--psycho (x) Fred Weasley x Reader

21. You’re supposed to be mad at your lover but they’re holding your face and smiling, and you just can't resist it when they're pouting like that. [6]

22. You and your lover sitting next to each other at a table, and they rest their hand on your thigh, gently rubbing their thumb back and forth. [3]

23. Looking at your crush or lover only to find them already looking at you and when you make eye contact, they smile at you. [3]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

24. You think mistletoe kisses are lame, but your love interest brings you under one, regardless of the season and suddenly you're all for it. [6]

25. You and your lover are in bed, when you say, “It’s time to get up.” and your lover pulls you back down, wraps their hands around your body, snuggles up close, preventing you from getting out of bed. [4]

26. Your lover is resting their head on your lap, falling asleep whilst you are playing with their hair. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

@band--psycho (x) Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

27. Having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down. [3]

28. You're sick, and you can't kiss your lover, and it's an absolute torture. [6]

@msmarvelouswinchester (x) Jensen Ackles or Dean Winchester x Reader

29. Being asked “Are you sure?” (There's nothing sexier than consent) [3]

30. When it’s a slow burn, and the characters just look at each other like “Fuck it, I’m done with this.” and they finally kiss. [4]

@acourtofbooksandfantasy (x) Azriel (ACOTAR) x Reader

Dialogue prompts

Flirty / Sarcastic prompts

1. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like the sound of your voice, because you don’t seem to ever shut up.” [9]

2. “Is that a challenge?” [9]

3. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.” [15]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

4. “When have I ever put you in danger? Actually, don't answer that.” [11]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

5. “I dare you.” [9]

6. “If you don’t shut up, I might as well kiss you to put that mouth to good use.” [9]

7. Character A: “Do yourself a favour, get laid.” Character B: “Why, are you offering?” [9]

@grimdevil (x) Draco Malfoy x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

8. Character A: “What if bite you?” Character B: “I’m into that.” [10]

9. Character A is returning a priced procession to Character B and says, “I want something in return.” Character B “What?”  Character A “You.” [2]

10. Character A: “What changed your mind? “ Character B: “You.” [7]

11. Character A: “What do you want?” Character B: “You.” [9]

12. Character A: “Just admit it.” Character B: “Admit what?” Character A: “I’m the best you’ve ever had.” [13]

13. Character A: “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?” Character B: “And yet for some reason your mouth just keeps on going.” [8]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

14. Character A: “I shouldn't have kissed you” “ Character B: You're right. But I should've.” [7]

15. Character A: “Do you flirt with everyone?” Character B: “Unfortunately, you’re the only one who caught my attention.” Character A: “Unfortunately?” [8]

@sexysirius (x) Sirius Black x Reader

16. Character B: “I like to keep my options open.” [8]

17. “I hate you. Oh, I hate you so much right now.” [11]

18. “Jesus Christ, you're annoying.” [11]

First kiss / Confession prompts

19. Character A: “Come over here.” Character B: “Why?” Character A: “You said you’ve never been kissed before. I’m planning on changing that.” [10]

20. Character A: “Just… don’t make this weird, all right?” Character B: “Meaning what?” Character A: “Meaning, don’t treat me like I haven’t been kissed before.” Character B: “But you… haven’t been kissed before.” Character A: “Look, I just want this over and done with, okay. I don’t want to be treated like a delicate flower. Kiss me like you mean it.” [10]

@band--psycho (x) Damon Salvatore x Reader

21. Character A: “I love you.” Character B: “I know.” Character A: “You knew?” Character B: “You haven’t exactly been discreet.” [15]

@band--psycho (x) Natasha Romanoff x Reader

22. “Listen, I know you’re busy, but… it’s important.” [15]

23. “I love you, and I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I just need you to know that I do.” [15]

24. Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” Character B: “What?” Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” [14]

25. “Is that truly, all it is? Just, two friends, hanging out?” [14]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

26. “I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to brush off the subject or turn it into a joke… I need you to be honest with me.” [14]

@grimdevil (x) Young!Sirius Black

27. “Are you… are you in love with me?” [14]

28. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” [14]

29. “All this time I thought you didn’t want me.” [14]

30. “If there’s something you want to tell me, now’s the time.” [14]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

31. “There’s nothing going on between me and Character C. because the person I want to be with is standing right in front of me.” [14]

32. Character A: “I want this to work. I really do.” Character B: “Then we’re on the same page.” [16]

33. “I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t even think it was possible to miss someone this much.” [16]

34. “I know we're not together, but I might die today so I'm going to kiss you just in case there is no later.” [6]

Reassurance / Sweet prompts

35. “You could stay here, tonight. For as long as you'd like.” [7]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

36. “Could you ever love someone like me?” [7]

37. Character A: “I've never been in love before.” Character B: “Then let me show you.” [7]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

38. “I can’t get up. You’re gonna have to carry me.” [11]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

39. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” [12]

@deanwanddamons (x) Jensen Ackles x Reader

40. “I feel safe with you. I always have.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

41. “I need you to know that you can always come to me.” [12]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

42. Character A: “You’ll wait for me?” Character B: “For as long as I need to.” [12]

43. “I’ll always be there for you. Don’t you ever doubt that.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) George Weasley x Reader

44. “Don’t hide from me. you’re even more beautiful in the morning.” [13]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

45. “I’m going to kiss you until you’re sick of it.” [13]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

46. “Just hold me. I’m not ready to wake up.” [13]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

If you have any questions, don’t be afraid of sending me a message. My inbox is always open for everyone :)

Prompt lists used from @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

[cafeacademia]

Snowdrops

George Weasley x Reader (SMUT)

Summary: Being snowed in isn’t all bad when it’s your best friend that you’re stuck indoors with, that is until you unintentionally let your feelings slip, which leads to something more than you expected with George.

Warnings: Lots of fluff, kissing, gentle sex, sweet and charming George (yes that’s a warning)

Word count: Approx 2600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi my loves! I honestly kind of struggled with this one, I really loved writing this, but bridging the gap between the fluff to the smut was very difficult to navigate for some reason. Anyway, I listened to a romantic classical playlist and somehow it fixed it? Enjoy some Georgie smut 💕

Also apologies for some of the mistakes, I think I missed a few while editing!

Snow came down in a heavy drift and what had been a visible pathway and fence at the end of the garden was now barely visible with only the slightest hint of a fence and trees in the distance through the thick white flurry of snow.

The blizzard had already set in for the night hours ago and it didn’t look as if it was going to stop any time soon. You were glad too for the healthy pile of firewood you had collected and for the copious amounts of blankets Molly Weasley had made and given to you throughout the years.

You sighed, idly circling the spoon around in your mug of hot chocolate. You were perched on the front windowsill, peering out through the wobbly, single paned glass windows and you shivered as a particularly icy draft swept through your home.

George had only come over for what was meant to be a quick visit, he wasn’t supposed to stay too long, only for lunch and maybe for mid afternoon tea and then he was meant to go back home. But the snow had come down, seemingly out of nowhere and the winds picked up, whistling through every little crack and sending heavy shivers through you both. But you were thankful at least, that it was George Weasley that you were snowed in with for the night and not alone or with someone you did not do well around for long periods of time.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched as George slept on the sofa, curled up in front of the fire with a thick blanket draped over him, though in his sleep, he had pushed part of it off. Taking the last sip of your hot drink and placing your mug down before you stood and made your way over towards him, reaching out to gently pull the blanket back over him.

You supposed George had been right when he said it would be just like those nights together at the Burrow or when you’d sneak off to spend the night with the twins at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t the same as those times. The truth was, the two of you had never spent a night alone together like this before and as much as you adored his attention, George had the wonderful ability to make you feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering through you just by smiling at you and you were sure that he didn’t even know. He could just say your name in that sweet tone he reserves just for you and your heart melts. And Merlin help you if he calls you sweetheart or princess as he sometimes does.

Was he even aware of what he did to you? You weren’t sure.

It was rare to be able to see George up this close, to see him so peaceful. And of course, you’d had moments with him, some of the best that you’d never forget, but you wondered if you’d ever pluck up the courage to tell him exactly how you felt.

You had been friends with the twins almost from the moment you had met them both in your first year at Hogwarts. A lot had changed since then, you supposed, but one thing that hadn’t was your crush on the quieter twin.

You had met both Fred and George on the Hogwarts Express before your first year had even officially started at school and you had quite literally bumped straight into Fred or George, though to this day you weren’t entirely sure who you had bumped into, because you had been far too flustered and shy to pay full attention and every time you asked the twins, they switched their answer.

You just knew that George had been the one to calmly help you back up and ask if you were alright and if you wanted to sit with them.

How was someone supposed to tell their best friend they were in love with them? Other people around you made it seem so easy, but you had seen enough muggle tv shows and films to know that it doesn’t always work out the way you hope it does and you had a worry that sat firmly in the back of your mind, reminding you nearly every time you wanted to admit it, that it could ruin everything.

If only you could go back and tell your past self that the little school girl crush you began to develop on George that day would turn into something much more meaningful as the years went by.

And by your third year at Hogwarts, you were as thick as thieves with the twins. They were your closest friends and it was very uncommon to see you at a distance from them both. You had always stuck together, especially you and George.

Fred had always said it was because George liked that you were easy to spend time with, it helped being shy you supposed.

But you wondered, you always had, if there wasn’t another reason there too.

You sighed as you reached up, gently brushing his hair out of his face as he lay against the spare pillow you had given him. You’d expect, after all of those years that it might be easier now to admit your feelings. But it wasn’t and you wondered if it ever would be.

There had been so many moments when you had almost told him, that ultimately led to you redirecting the conversation and continuing to hide the feelings you had kept well guarded for years.

Arranging a comfortable bed of cushions to lay on in front of the warmth of the fire, you pulled a blanket around you. But before you settled down to get some sleep, you reached over and gently tucked some of his hair behind his ear so that it was out of his face.

It happened one Christmas at the Burrow, when you and George spent a good few hours up in a little room at the very top of the house, dancing and messing around and joking with each other. You had almost kissed too, had it not been from Percy coming to tell you that dinner was ready.

It happened before the Yule Ball when you had intended to ask him, but George let slip before you could say anything that he was going with Alicia Spinnet.

And it happened once more in the room of requirement when mistletoe had blossomed above you both.

But it never ended up happening because at that exact moment, Fred and Neville had practically burst into the room together.

“I love you, George.” You said it, barely above a whisper. “I wish I could tell you that.” You sighed, pulling away from him before you curled up on your bed of cushions and attempted to get to sleep.

A moment of silence passed as you listened to the gentle pop of the wood in the low fire.

“I love you too.” George finally broke the silence.

“What?” It was whisper as you turned over to face him, the Weasley twin looking down at you from the sofa with a rather smug smile on his lips, eyes dreamy and half lidded. “I love you too.” He repeated. “That is what you said, wasn’t it? That you love me?” George asked, though you both knew that he full well knew the answer to that question.

With your lips parted, a look of embarrassment and shock crossed your features, worrying George as he carefully slid off the sofa, landing not-so-gracefully on the cushions below him.

“How long?” He asked softly as he got comfortable, reaching up to gently caress your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Because I can tell you exactly when I fell for you, sweetheart.” He told you.

“You feel the same?” You asked, voice cracking a little mid sentence as it slowly sank in. You had just unintentionally told your best friend that you were in love with him and now you were stunned, almost to silence by his confession.

George gave you a sweet smile, one that held sincerity, the kind that told you every angle of truth in his words without him having to say a single one.

“Darling, of course. I always loved you, but I think I started to realise I was really in love with you on that first Christmas that you spent at the Burrow.” George explained, his eyes looking off into the fire as he went deep into thought, a soft smile forming on his lips. “Christmas seems to always make me fall more and more for you though, funny that.” He smirked.

“Yes, funny that.” You mumbled, trailing off as you began to think about that first Christmas. The Christmas when you had almost shared your first kiss with George at the top of the Burrow. And you realised that nearly every year, when the snow came and the festivities seemed to be the only thing that everyone was thinking about, you did always seem to fall a little harder for George.

Even if Christmas had already passed, there was nearly always a moment in the wintery bliss, one that would make your heart melt and ache for him and yet it never seemed to blossom into anything.

“But,” George said, smiling as he turned towards you and propped himself up on his elbow so that he was looking down at you. “I can still kiss you even if there is no mistletoe.” He gave you a lopsided grin, effortless charm and you found yourself a giggly mess as he leaned in, gently brushing his thumb against your cheek, lips softly grazing yours and he paused as your light touch trailed up his arm, resting your fingers on his shoulder before he closed the gap.

But perhaps, like the beautiful Snowdrops that blossomed through the mounds of snow that covered the front lawn of the Burrow at this time of year, perhaps you were both ready to let it bloom into something more.

“It was the same Christmas that I fell for you too,” You finally spoke. “When we spent those hours messing about and dancing and talking until the sun went down. And the Christmas after that when we practiced dancing for the ball together.” You told him, George grinning brightly as he leaned back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

“And that time under the mistletoe.” George added. “It’s a shame we never got to, you know-.” You trailed off, shyness taking over for a moment.

“I would’ve if Fred hadn’t come in.” George sighed, hoping that at the very least it would tell you that he was disappointed too.

George kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours, moving slowly with you as he cradled you in his hands. It was more than you had ever imagined and the love that had lingered for so long deep in your heart became a bright flame, one that made your heart flutter, the warmth of your love for George finally blooming, filling you with a beautiful sense of wonder.

You moved against him, your lips parting only to meet his again within a second. It was breathtaking as he leaned over you, pouring every emotion, every unsaid feeling into the kiss. George kissed you breathless, until you were fully entranced by him, almost dazed by the pure, overwhelming love you felt for him.

Pulling away, just enough to see you, eyes deep with want, lips parted and glistening from your kiss. He wanted nothing more than you kiss you again, he wanted to kiss you all night and do anything you let him.

You were tentative with your touch as you undressed each other, but as George pulled you further into the loving haze the two of you had created, you became a little more brave. While shy to be bare in front of him, part of you craved it, you wanted to see how he looked at you, the way his eyes hooded slightly in lust as he looked you over.

“Please Georgie, I need you.” You whispered it before you even knew what you’d said, and while you were shy about the words that had passed your lips, they were true. You did need him, you desperately wanted him to make you his and the smirk that rested on his lips was enough to tell you that he wanted the same.

“I’ve got you, princess.” George spoke deeply, his warm breath brushing against you softly as he leaned down, pressing gently kisses to your neck.

“George,” His name passed your lips in a soft moan as he took you and while the snow came down and the wind blew against the side of the house, the fire crackling beside you both, all you could sense was him. George’s weight above you was comforting, yet intense as he thrust into you so deep, so gentle but with such a desperate need that you couldn’t help the breathy whine that escaped you. “That’s it sweetheart.” He groaned softly against you.

“I love you.” It came out as a soft sigh and he spoke the words as if they were too delicate to be said any other way. “I love you too.” Your voice airy and light, trailing off as he rocked into you, his hips flush against you for a moment as he reached deep.

You were gorgeous in the light of the fire, your features practically glowed in the gentle warmth of the hearth and George couldn’t help but explore your body, fingers trailing over your chest, thumbs gently teasing your nipples and you arched your back into him, lips parted with pure pleasure.

George could get used to this, he could get used to the way you looked when he brought you closer and closer to your release, the way you whined his name out and how perfectly you reacted to his touch with your lips parted and eyes deep with passion, they way you leaned into him, moved against him so perfectly like you were supposed to be together.

George brought you both closer, a loving, warm haze capturing you both as you looked into his eyes, sharing with him the emotions that played so beautifully in your expressions. Your fingers deep in his ginger hair, tugging gently as he leaned in, pressing kisses down your jaw, tipping your head back as his lips gently trailed down your neck, leaving messy, open mouthed kisses as you gasped, reaching your climax, the heavy wave of your release rolling through you and taking George with you as the fluttering of your walls around him brought him to his own bliss too.

“I love you, sweetheart.” George whispered to you as he looked down at you, taking in your blissed out features, the way you looked beneath him, beautiful and perfect in every way to George Weasley.

“Always remember that, darling.” He spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peace between you as he carefully lowered himself down onto the cushions beside you.

Turning to lean against him you rest your head on his shoulder as George pulled a blanket from the sofa and tucked it around you both.

“I love you too, Georgie.” You mumbled sleepily against him.

He hugged you to his side, embracing you in his loving warmth as the blizzard continued and the wind blew hard against the house.

But it was a perfect winter’s night and your love had finally been able to bloom, just like Snowdrops.

Taglist (OPEN):

@kitkatd7 ​​@paintballkid711 ​​ @thesewaywardskies ​​ @coldlilheart​​ @victorialynn7​​ @pandaxnienke​​ @megantje123​​ @loving-life-my-way​​ @chaotic-fae-queen​​ @theweasleyslut​​​

[maatryoshkaa]

merry christmas, kiss my a** | lee minho [teaser]

✒︎ in which both you and minho get dumped by your partners on christmas eve, run into each other on christmas day, and begin to find yourselves grudgingly confronting all the reasons that made you enemies in the first place.

ryu says: i can explain the title—i wrote out the plot while listening to “merry christmas, kiss my ass” by all time low 🤡

genre: enemies to lovers, college!au, holiday!au, fluff, drama, romcom, all that good stuff--and a pinch of angst if you move your bang to read it again. 

tags/warnings: fratboy!minho is your typical playboy asshole, perfect student!reader is all business and no-nonsense, mild profanity, mentions of drugs/marijuana/alcohol and addiction, unsafe frat parties (never let go of your drinks, guys), slightly (?) suggestive, but more chaotic than anything, some unhealthy relationships, reader and minho have bad blood, a long history paved with misunderstandings, and lots of unpacking to do.

length of excerpt: 1.6k

With the remnants of a ruthless migraine still wrenching your skull, you pried your eyes open. A weak groan left your dry lips, muffled by a mouthful of fabric. As you came to—brain feeling like jelly sloshing around in your head—you realised you were lying nearly face-down on a queen-sized bed, white comforters tangled around your very sore body. Bright sunlight was filtering in from a window somewhere, and you vaguely registered a green velvet couch sitting in the corner. Frowning, you tried to roll onto your side—and came face-to-face with the yellow eyes of a ginger cat.

You didn’t own a cat. Or a green couch, for that matter. Blinking in confused unison with the feline, you looked around the room—just as the bathroom door swung open, and a very naked Minho stepped out from the wisps of steam.

You screamed, scrambling back on the bed, and grabbed for the first solid object your hands could find—a rusted candelabra on the nightstand. Brandishing it at Minho in horror, you stammered, “Did I—did you—did we—”

Minho looked just as bewildered as you, one hand shooting up as if in surrender. With a yowl, the ginger cat leapt onto the green couch, but neither of you spared it a glance. Minho’s other hand, you realised, was gripping the towel wrapped around his waist as if his life depended on it. Okay, so he wasn’t naked—thank heavens—but that did nothing to stop the sour panic steadily rising in your throat. His gesture sent a vague memory rippling through your muddled mind. That’s right. Last night—the Christmas party at Changbin’s fraternity. You had bumped into Minho, just your rotten luck—the boy you’d despised since high school, and under the mistletoe, to boot. Your mind flashed back to how you’d furiously chugged the drink a frat boy had handed you to fill in the awkwardness, and had desperately tried to eject yourself from the conversation.

Then police sirens had sounded throughout the frat house, students scrambling like cockroaches and hurriedly hiding their marijuana—and that was the last thing you remembered before you had blacked out entirely.

You turned back towards Minho, one hand clamped over your eyes and the other around the candelabra. Two more cats had slinked out from under the bed—a tabby, and another ginger—and were joining the first one in watching the commotion. You put two and two together, voice growing shrill. “Did you—drug my drink, Lee Minho?”

He sputtered, and you could almost imagine his eyes bugging out. “Did I—” he raked a hand through his wet hair, composing himself. “I thought you took something—you were out cold the second you finished your drink.”

Fragments of the night before were slowly returning to you, and with increasing dread you recalled the solo cup you had taken without looking twice, the frat boy who had winked at you with a greasy smile.

“I think you got roofied, princess,” came Minho’s voice, surprisingly gentle.

“Don’t call me princess,” you snapped back automatically, but grudgingly lowered the candelabra. Cautious, you peered through your fingers, and immediately regretted it when you were met with Minho’s shit-eating smirk agaain.

“Not gonna lie, it took me by surprise. Since when did you become a party girl, showing up to Changbin’s parties?” He reached back into the bathroom, ruffling his damp hair with a smaller towel. “Here I was, thinking you’ve changed.”

“Yeah, well, you clearly haven’t,” you shot back coldly, counting off your fingers with a biting laugh. “Treating people like your personal toys or stepping stones. Messing around with multiple girls a night. Drinking like there’s no tomorrow.” 

If your words stung Minho, he certainly didn’t show it—only raising his eyebrows in that way that had infuriated you for as long as you’d known. The typical Lee Minho look of nonchalant contempt, spiked with a shot of amusement to give the impression that he didn’t give a single damn. You hadn’t run into him since—well, since that incident back in high school, and the memories his mere expressions could still rouse made your skin crawl.

Minho watched you curiously—sheets still wrapped around you like makeshift battle armour, your hand wielding the candelabra he’d thrifted from a garage sale, Rapunzel-style—and he had to fight the genuine smile tugging at his sneer. His chest felt...funny, fluttery, even, and not in the gut-wrenching, hangover way he had grown so used to. He almost wished it was, because this new feeling made it seem as though the ground had suddenly been ripped out from under his feet, and that terrified him.

The party. Some snitch had called the cops on them, and that had promptly shut the party down. The flood of panicked students evacuating had shoved Minho flush against the wall, and you flush against his chest. When he hadn’t felt you shoving him away immediately, Minho had almost felt his heart swell with a strange, terrifying shred of hope—until, upon closer look, he had noticed that your entire body had gone limp, glass empty and eyes fluttering shut. 

Panicking, Minho had carried you out of the house, clawing out of the sea of elbows and overheated limbs until he had reached the main road. Mind racing, he had fished his phone from his pocket and called the only mutual acquaintance the two of you had—your boyfriend.

But when Minho had explained what had happened—hey, uh, your girlfriend’s out cold at Changbin’s party, so you might want to come pick her up—Taehyun had scoffed, a harsh bark of laughter that had made Minho’s ears hurt. 

“Yeah? The hell’s it to me? That bitch’s your problem now.”

Before Minho could choke out a surprised reply, Taehyun had hung up. 

Trouble in paradise? He had thought to himself amusedly, before remembering his own situation. Then, the fact that he had no idea where you lived, and he couldn’t very well leave you, unconscious, out on the street. In the end, he had brought you to his last resort—his apartment. 

Carefully stepping over the trail of shattered ornaments his ex-girlfriend had left behind during their fight, Minho had lowered you onto the couch—then, with a second thought and a deep sigh, he’d lifted you onto the bed, tucking the white comforter over your slack body. Sipping a hangover concoction, he’d stood over your sleeping figure contemplatively, a mix of bemusement and worry churning in his gut, before deciding he was probably being mildly creepy and collapsing for the night on the velvet couch. 

“Look,” Minho began, shaking his head as though clearing his thoughts and turning his attention back on you, “I know what you’re probably thinking, but I—we—didn’t—do anything. You were out cold last night.”

Hands shaking, you peeled back the covers—and the smallest sigh of relief left your tightened chest when you saw that you were still wearing the same jeans and top as last night—albeit creased, stained, and reeking of marijuana and booze, but completely intact. The next moment, though, a wave of anxiety washed over you and you clutched the sheets closer, fingers trembling. Someone had still slipped something into your drink at that party. And if the party hadn’t come to a screeching halt—no, you realised, with an inward groan of frustration, if your sworn enemy hadn’t been there, there was no telling how much worse things could have gone. 

The thought made you shudder, panicked tears pricking at your sore eyes. Damn it ll. Here you were, sitting in Lee Minho’s bed, of all people—about to cry in front of him while he watched. Your humiliation—a belated Christmas present for him, no doubt. 

But when you glanced at his face, you were startled at the expression on his face. It was unfamiliar—not exactly condescending, or vicious, or even mildly smug. His lips—rosy from the hot shower—were pressed together slightly, eyebrows almost knitting together in a frown. 

Maybe he was holding back laughter?

Minho’s eyes had caught the way your lips had begun to tremble as you curled in on yourself, and had instinctively moved forward before freezing. What could he do? Give you a hug? He was sure he would end up with a candlestick in his eye if he tried. Comfort you? The words seemed to dissolve to sand on his tongue. He cursed himself silently. Words and actions came so easily with all the other girls—endless sweet talk and flirting, until he had them wrapped around his finger. With you—even after all these years—he was left frozen, mind blank, and only that damned feeling in his chest.

“She’s not yours,” came Changbin’s voice from the previous night, ringing in his ears.

“I know,” he had replied. But why did acknowledging it feel like ripping a Band-Aid off of a nearly-healed wound? Like he had reopened the scar, along with all its pain once again? 

Maybe it was because after all these years, Minho still clung onto the hope that you would hear him out, just once.

Gesturing helplessly, he found himself offering the only sort of comfort he seemed to know how to. “Do you want—uh...some wine? The fridge’s empty, and maybe it’ll calm your nerves a bit.” He tilted his head when you didn’t reply, trying to get a glimpse of your face. “Do we need wine?”

Forgetting momentarily that he was nearly naked, you lifted a withering, exasperated gaze at him, getting an eyeful of his bare chest before yelping and burying your face in the covers again. “No. You know what—I need wine—you need to put some damn pants on.”

You could hear his devilish grin return to his voice then, even through the covers. “But life is so freeing without them.”

“Pants. On. Now.”

to be continued

[voiceless-terror]

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it. 

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing. 

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks. 

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.” 

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!” 

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983