#but THE HOLIDAY. okay! he has taste!!
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kitnita · 2 months ago
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oskar bäck pre-game   —   STL vs DAL   —   12.14.24
[what is your favorite christmas movie?]   uh, probably the holiday.   [i like the holiday!]   yeah.   [okay, nice.]  yeah, yeah. good movie.   [you have a sensitive side.]   yeah, exactly, that’s it.
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dear-ao3 · 2 months ago
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so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.
well.
this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.
so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.
the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.
and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.
so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.
then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac
this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.
also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.
so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.
so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.
upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.
then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.
this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”
oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?
in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.
which remember. is supposed to have cognac.
so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.
now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.
the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.
i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.
so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.
then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.
as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.
only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.
which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake
see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.
and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2
first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”
and so i did.
with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.
though it didn’t.
and i didn’t add the cognac.
maybe no one will be able to tell???
my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.
but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating
decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.
the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.
and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.
i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.
so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.
so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.
in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.
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which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It
our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.
i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.
“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”
i could not agree more.
i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.
on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.
Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.
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waayoutofline · 3 months ago
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Avoiding every mistletoe (Until I know It’s true love)
Marvel Masterlist
PROMPTS: Shy Natasha Romanoff and Lab Assitant!Reader
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Tags: Fluff, awkward and clumsy Nat, Tony's lab asistant reader, christmas fun! ( posting this during actual christmas), meddeling avengers, a sprinkle of hurt/comfort.
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Summary —> Ever since Natasha met you, Tony's new brilliant assistant, she has been down bad. But her sudden lack of confidence around you banishes every hope for her to make a move. Christmas is around the corner, and the team knows about your superstitious nature. There seems to be a clear answer: Mistletoes.
WC: 5473
Warnings: Descriptions of making out, but not explicit sexual content.
***
November was in full swing at the Avengers Tower, which meant sophisticated red, green, and gold decorations adorned every surface, Christmas songs played on an endless loop through the speakers, and the unmistakable aroma of gingerbread wafted (somehow) through the air.
As was classic Tony Stark fashion, a lineup of extravagant holiday parties had already been scheduled and meticulously planned for execution. Natasha Romanoff though was already dreading it.
Hoping to avoid any unnecessary interaction, she quietly sneaked into the communal kitchen, intent on grabbing a couple of waffles Wanda had made earlier. But as soon as she stepped in, she felt the weight of several pairs of eyes on her back.
“Ah, Miss Romanoff, there you are!” Tony’s voice rang out, cheerful and full of purpose. He was already decked out in one of his newest suits—sharp, festive, and annoyingly ostentatious.
Sighing, Natasha turned around, realizing it was too late to make a run for it. She was greeted by the sight of her team sprawled across the couches and armchairs in the lounge, each of them absorbed in their own activity, but now casually watching Tony’s sudden commotion with mild interest.
“Morning,” Natasha grunted, reluctantly moving to join them, plate in hand.
“Just the person I was looking for!” Tony said, flashing a shit-eating grin as he patted the empty space beside him on the couch.
Instead of humoring him, Natasha settled herself on the fluffy rug in front of the coffee table, placing her plate down without a word.
“You are officially invited to the pre-Christmas party hosted by moi,” Tony declared dramatically.
“Tony, you literally held us hostage at one last week. I still have a hangover,” she deadpanned, recalling flashes of the chaos where even she had gone overboard with the alcohol, thanks to Sam Wilson’s stupid drinking games.
“Oh, come on! This one’s different. It’s intimate—just for us heroes and co,” Tony countered, undeterred. Then, leaning back smugly, he added, “I even got the space lady to come. How awesome is that?”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Oh don’t be boring. Where’s the wild Natasha Romanoff we all love?” Tony teased, grinning as if to provoke her.
“Easy. She doesn’t exist,” Natasha replied flatly, cutting into her first waffle. She let out a satisfied hum at the sweet taste.
“These are amazing, Wanda,” she said, looking over at the young witch.
Wanda, sitting comfortably on a loveseat, smiled warmly at the compliment. “Thanks, Nat.”
“Is it a new recipe?” Natasha asked, curious.
“Yes, actually. I added a bit of cinnamon and—”
“Okay, okay!” Tony interrupted, baffled by the lack of attention he was receiving, looking bewildered between them two. “Let’s get back to the main thing here. Are you coming?”
At Natasha’s reluctant silence, Steve stepped in with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Natasha. I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior.”
“Ugh, boring—” Tony groaned, dragging the word out in sing-song. But under Steve’s hardened stare, he sighed in defeat. “Fine. It’ll be a cozy hangout. No traces of fun or whatever,” he relented, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Taking another bite of her waffles, she carfulkly took a sip of her coffe, trying to hide her smirk as she sees Tony waiting in anticipation fo her response. “Fine.”
Tony threw a punch onto the air, clapping in victory. “Carol is coming you said?”
He nodded proudly. “Yeah I managed to rope her and her little sidekick in. There is also the kid, Clint and his family…”
”Dont forget Strange.” Bruce, who just entered the living room reminded. Tony grumbled a bit at that. 
“Yeah, Houdini too. Scary lady and Patch eye…god were those hard to convince— Oh and my lab assistant too.” Nathasa choked at that.
”Assistant? She practically takes over your lab.” Bruce chuckled. 
Tony rolled his eyes, but there was no hint of malice. If anything, a spark of pride made his eyes a bit brighter. “Yeah well, I taught her well. Did you knowl that last week she-“
 Nathan’s brain disconnected at a scary speed after those words. Images of you hit her hard, and she could already start to feel her heart race a bit. 
Y/N Y/L/N was Tony Stark’s most recent lab and tech assistant, and to say he was impressed would be an understatement. After reviewing your résumé, Tony had practically declared you a godsend. You were one of the rare people who could keep up with his eccentricities, effortlessly managing the stream of tasks he threw your way. It didn’t take long for you to earn a permanent spot at the Avengers Tower.
Natasha remembered the first time she saw you as if it were yesterday. She had been on her way to ask Tony for a replacement for her gauntlets after a particularly rough mission. When she stepped into the lab, though, she was surprised to find someone else hunched over the workbench.
Frowning, Natasha set her hand on the fingerprint scanner, the door sliding open with a soft whoosh. At the sound, the stranger turned around, and Natasha froze in place.
For her, the world seemed to stop spinning, settling into an almost unnatural silence. You were… ethereal. 
In her life, Natasha had faced aliens, wizards, and even sentient robots. So how far-fetched was it to assume she was now standing face to face with an angel?
Even though you didn’t know her, a gentle smile settled on your lips, your gorgeous eyes peering at her with almost childlike curiosity. Natasha stood there, frozen in place, unable to move. It wasn’t until something shifted in the silence that she remembered to breathe again.
Startled, she realized she hadn’t moved from the doorway. The door had automatically closed where she stood, trapping her. Embarrassed, she quickly stepped forward, pushing herself to snap out of it.
And, of course, she had to stumble. The gauntlets she was holding slipped from her grip and fell to the floor with an unforgivable thud. Cringing, she immediately knelt down to retrieve them. What she didn't expect was for you to do the same, even if your movement were more calm. 
She flustered when she dared to look up, finding your own awaiting gaze. “Well, if they weren't broken before, they sure are now.” You joked with a smile, tone teasing but not judging. 
Blinking, Natasha started sputtering, not really knowing what to say. Or how. “Yes.” 
“Yes” is what her stupid brain decided to go for. Even thinking about it even now, her face scrunch with self embarrassment. What was even happening? Taking a breath, she redirected her eyes to the ground. Right, the gauntlets. They are broken. Need them fixed.
Finally standing up, she forced her body not to fidget. As if sensing this, you offered a hand to her. “Y/N Y/L/N, Mr.Starks new hire here in the lab.” 
Tentatively, she accepted the shake. Her mind hanging on how your hand seemed to fit into hers. “Natasha Romanoff. Um, avenger.” 
God what’s wrong with her? You giggle at that, and the sound is enough to get her out of her head. Of course that the sound is also beautiful. Was there anything about you that wasn’t? Why is she even think that?
 “I know. Pleasure to meet you, Ms.Romanoff. So…may I help you with those?” You ask, your hand still being held by hers. Noticing this, Natasha removed her grip as if you were burning. 
“Please.” She ended up saying, utterly embarrassed by her behaviour. Still, you gave no sense of judgment, only nodding and taking her over the workbench. 
She stayed with you all that evening. And most of the next ones after that. 
***
Her infatuation with you only seemed to grow since that first meeting, and the others quickly picked up on it. They saw it in the way Natasha—the most grounded person they knew—started sputtering and flustering whenever she talked to you. The unshakable confidence she was known for seemed to melt under the warmth of your sunshine smile and the twinkle of mischief in your eyes.
And as much as they insisted for her to make an actual move, Natasha refused. 
“Uh-oh, I know that look.” Wanda sang, like a high school girl teasing her friend in high school when they listened the name of their crush. Rolling her eyes, Natasha scoffed.
”There is no look.”
”Oh, but there is.” Clint, who was watching Sam and a struggling Bucky play Mortal Combat added, not even looking away from the screen. “Your pupils practically shape into hearts— likes a lovesick puppy. It’s almost painful to watch.
”Shut it Barton.” 
You were too good for her, Natasha decided on her own. You were like the sun, kind and warm, gentle in a way that it was entirely selfless. Natasha's life was one of dangers and precautions, she didn’t want to expose you to any of the threats that surrounded her lifestyle. 
Even if she ached to be close to you, call you her own. 
“Now it’s the time to make a move. Who knows? Maybe you will find each other under the mistletoe.” He adds with a wink.
Tony hummed. “Hm, that’s actually a good idea.” 
Her head whipped toward him. “Don’t even think about it, Stark. Besides, that’s a stupid tradition. How do you even know that Y/N would willingly kiss someone just because a stupid parasitic plant is above her?”
They all laughed at that.
“Our Y/N? Please. She practically had a mental breakdown when I broke a mirror in the lab the other day,” Tony quipped, grinning.
Wanda nodded in agreement, casually flipping through the pages of her book. “Yeah, once she made me search the entire tower for something made of wood to touch, just so I wouldn’t jinx the next mission after I mentioned a hypothetical worst-case scenario. Still don’t get that one.”
Natasha’s face went pale at that, remembering a conversation she’d once had with you. You had mentioned that, while you didn’t fully believe in superstitions yourself, your family did, and it had resulted in some strange and unshakable habits for you. “Better safe than sorry,” you had said with a shrug.
A cold sweat made her tremble slightly, worsening by all of a sudden interested and sneaky grins on her friends faces. 
Whatever, she still can not go.
***
She still had to go.
When you confirmed your attendance, you clapped excitedly, rambling about how fun it would be to spend your first Christmas together. You even brought it up when she bought you lunch—a frequent occurrence, since you often got so engrossed in your work that you forgot to eat. Natasha would be lying if she said your words didn’t tug relentlessly at her heart.
And so, there she was, surrounded by the thrumming chaos of an all-together gathering, overwhelming decorations, and overly festive arrangements at every turn. Anxiety prickled at her as she glanced toward the newly decorated attic. They couldn’t possibly have infested the entire place with mistletoe, right?
Wrong.
They were everywhere.
On every doorway, on the stairs, in the high columns and ceilings, even on top of the Christmas tree, scattered around—everywhere she looked, there it was. Mistletoe.
Trying to shake it off, Natasha focused her attention on the ground, her sharp gaze scanning for the culprit behind this festive ambush.
“Tony!” she half-yelled, her steps quick and deliberate as she marched toward the eccentric billionaire, who was in the middle of a conversation with Pepper.
His head whipped toward her, a flicker of fear flashing across his face before his usual smug smirk returned.
“Care to explain?” she demanded.
“Explain what, exactly? My fantastical abilities to host, or…?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.
She glared furiously. “Aw, c’mon, don’t look so grumpy, Grinch! This is a time of tradition, joy—”
“And manipulation?” she interrupted through gritted teeth. “This is way too much.”
Despite her glare and the unmistakable edge in her voice, Tony remained unfazed. If anything, his amusement only grew. He glanced over her shoulder, his expression brightening as he perked up.
“Well, complaints are non-refundable. Sorry, it’s the new policy. If you’ll excuse me, Pepper needs me to sign some super high-confidence document, right, dear?”
Pepper frowned. “What are you talking ab—”
Before she could finish, Tony gently grabbed her hand and began steering her away, the two trailing off into the crowd.
Natasha was about to follow and press him further, but a voice behind her made her freeze.
“Nat, hey!”
She turned around, and suddenly, everything seemed to slow down for her. There you were, wearing a comfy red sweater, black jeans, and a pair of Mary Janes. Your hair, usually tied back for work, was flowing freely, framing your face. It was a simple, casual look, but Natasha felt her face heat up at the sight of you.
As you got closer, alarm bells blared in her mind. Her eyes darted upward, and her stomach dropped. One of those dreaded mistletoe clusters hung right above where you were heading.
Panicking, she practically sprinted toward you, desperate to avoid both of you standing under it. But she miscalculated her speed, and before she knew it, she was barrelling straight into you.
You let out a startled huff as her momentum almost knocked you over, but her quick reflexes kicked in, and she steadied you before you could stumble.
“Geez, Romanoff,” you joked, brushing yourself off as you smiled up at her. “We just saw each other this morning. Did you miss me that much?”
Your teasing tone and warm voice snapped her out of her panic, but the damage was done. Natasha’s heart was hammering in her chest, her senses overloaded as she became acutely aware of how close you were. The soft warmth of your body pressed lightly against hers, the delicate scent of cocoa beans, coconut, and something distinctly you filling the air around her.
Her cheeks burned as her mind scrambled for something—anything—to say as she looked down at you, mortified. Luckily for her, your attention diverged when someone from the staff (who even brings staff in closed up parties?) bough a chocolate fountain in a rolling chair. “No. Way.— I thought he was kidding!” 
And just like that you went off excitedly, a silhouette of dust being the only trace of you left. Sighing, Natasha brought her hand to her racing heart, trying to figure out a way to survive this evening. 
Her eyes opened again in determination, she was going to take off these damned things, starting with the one right on top of her. 
***
This task, however, grew increasingly difficult as the evening wore on. Between being roped into endless conversations, you constantly looking out for her (and her desperately trying to avoid you), and the absurd number of mistletoes everywhere, Natasha felt like she was fighting a losing battle. It was as if they were multiplying before her very eyes.
Her frustration peaked during a particularly embarrassing moment—one where, of course, you were the witness.
After listening to Peter and Kamala endlessly gossip about high school drama, Natasha had collapsed onto the sofa, her patience hanging by a thread. As her gaze wandered across the room, her eyes landed on the ceiling—and there it was. Another  mistletoe. This one was perched slightly higher than the others, hanging right above the beanbag chair where you often sat. Of course.
Those strategic bastards.
Taking advantage of everyone being distracted in the kitchen, she sprang into action. With no ladder in sight, she grabbed a nearby chair and carefully climbed onto it. Still too short to reach, she braced herself against the shelves, stretching precariously as she balanced. Every slight wobble of the chair made her heart lurch, but she pressed on, determined to remove the offending decoration before anyone noticed.
But of course, that was the moment you walked in, calling for her.
“Nat? Aren’t you hungry? I saved you some of those little pies you like so much—”
Your voice startled her, and she immediately looks down at you. Her grip slipped briefly, the chair wobbling dangerously beneath her.
“Y/N! Shit—” she hissed, her heart leaping into her throat. Scrambling to steady herself, she clung to the edge of the shelf and managed to avoid completely losing her balance. She froze, her cheeks heating as she realized you were staring at her, bewildered.
“What… are you doing?” you asked, the corners of your lips quirking up in confusion and slight amusement.
Blushing furiously, Natasha’s mind scrambled for a reasonable explanation. “Um… I was just… looking for Clint? You know how much he loves to hide up here.” she said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound nonchalant.
Before you could respond, someone brushed past you, momentarily breaking the tension.
It was Clint, holding a bottle of rosé wine, with the kids trailing behind him. “No alcohol until you’re 21,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.
“But I am 22!” Kate argued.
Clint snorted. “Sure you are.”
As they disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your attention back to Natasha. Arching an eyebrow, you crossed your arms, your curiosity clearly not satisfied.
“Oh, great! There he is!” Natasha blurted, clinging to her flimsy excuse. She waved awkwardly in Clint’s general direction, desperate to change the subject. “Let me just—”
But as she began stepping down, her foot slipped on the edge of the chair. She let out a startled gasp as she lost her footing entirely.
”Oh my- Natasha!”
***
She even tried to gain support in enemy territory.
“Steve!” she called out. The man looked over at her and clearly tried to sneak off, but it was too late. “Just how many are there?” she asked, her desperation evident. So far, she’d removed eight mistletoes and had endured three risky situations where she’d practically had to run away from you.
“Of what?” Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink, feigning ignorance.
Natasha huffed, crossing her arms. “Please, let’s skip the act. I know you also took part in this.”
Steve remained silent, his expression unreadable but gullible. Natasha sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Steve, you’re the most reasonable one out of all of them. Just tell me where the rest of the mistletoes are!”
She could see the guilt on his face—he was clearly uncomfortable. Steve Rogers wasn’t a man who lied easily. As he opened his mouth, clearly about to crack, Sam and Wanda swooped in.
“What are we talking about?” Sam asked with a goofy smile, casually draping his arm around Steve’s shoulders as if shielding him from her interrogation.
Natasha’s left eye twitched. “You know exactly what, Wilson.”
“Hmm, do I?” Sam teased, his grin widening.
Natasha ignored him, focusing on her second-best shot, since it was clear Steve wouldn’t be of much use now.
“Wanda,” she said, turning to the witch, “how many mistletoes are there?”
Wanda shrugged, playing innocent.
“If you tell me…,” Natasha added, her voice turning sly, “I’ll lend you those boots of mine you like so much.”
Wanda hesitated at that, her composure faltering slightly. “… The ones with the metal buckles?”
“The ones with the metal buckles.”
Wanda’s eyes glinted with temptation as she weighed her options. But after a brief internal debate, she furrowed her brow and firmly shook her head and crossed her arms. “No. We’re doing this for your own good, Natasha.”
Natasha laughed forcefully, her expression taut with frustration. “For my own good? I’m losing my sanity over here, Wands.” Her tone was sharp, but her forced smile remained plastered on her face.
Just then, a voice cut through the air, making Natasha freeze.
“Have you guys seen Natasha? I swear I just keep losing track of her today,” you said, your voice light-hearted as you spoke to Bruce and Tony.
The group perked up at your words, and Natasha’s head snapped toward the sound of your voice. There you were, standing across the room, looking as radiant as ever as you chatted with the two men.
As Tony and Bruce were about to point in her direction, Natasha didn’t waste another second—she quickly ducked behind the rolling chocolate fountain cart, slipping out of sight just in the nick of time.
***
It all came down to the climax of the party. Most of the children were asleep by now, and only the closest circle remained. Natasha was exhausted but relieved. She had finally managed to get rid of all the mistletoes, even if, in doing so, she had humiliated herself in ways she hadn’t thought possible.
Now, she could finally relax and hang out with you. Or at least, that’s what she thought. A wolf whistle and cheers erupted from her friends, who had formed a circle outside on the terrace. Curious, she approached, only to regret it immediately as she was squashed between Steve and Bucky.
Her face went pale as she saw the final mistletoe, hanging right above you and a smug Carol Danvers. In her frantic pursuit of avoiding standing under a mistletoe with you, someone else had managed to get there before her. This outcome was far worse, and dread filled her as she watched the scene unfold.
She couldn’t stand it. The way Carol got closer with bravado and you, with a smile (it was more polite and friendly than anything, but at that moment she didn’t see it like that), made her heart drop.
The world once again slowed down, but this time it was for her and you. And she just couldn’t stand it. Shattering the slow-motion moment, her mouth and body moved faster than her mind.
“Wait! You’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe, not near it! I mean—look at that angle, it’s tilted and all wrong. Besides, is it me or are the leaves…wait, let me just scoot over here—” she muttered, pushing her way through the onlookers to get to the mistletoe. Everyone went quiet in surprise as she reached it and caressed the leaves. You just stared at her, but she seemed to pay no mind. “Ah, as I thought! These leaves are all dried. How about we replace it? Here, I know where we can find a suitable one. Will you come with me, Y/N?”
Without thinking, she took your hand and practically dragged you away, turning back toward the group. “We’ll be right back.”
Everyone remained quiet as they watched the two of you disappear.
***
“Here, let me just…” Natasha started, trying to find her card in her pockets. “Where did I—ah, here.”
With quick motions, she attempted to swipe the card to unlock her room. You stood behind her, watching her increasingly desperate attempts to open the door.
“Nat…” you started softly.
Chuckling awkwardly, she waited for the green light, but it still wasn’t processing for some reason. “These are so annoying. I keep insisting to Tony that he should just put in a code, but he doesn’t listen—”
“Nat.”
“Typical of him, I know. Let’s try again.” Waiting for the red light to turn off, she swiped again, and this time the light turned green. “There, finally.”
You tried calling her again, but she interrupted. “Sorry for the wait. There are some left in my room, let’s just pick one and…” She said, turning the handle and opening the door, knowing that all the stolen mistletoes were in the corner.
“Natasha!” You finally yelled, making her turn around with wild eyes. Uh oh, you almost  called her Natasha.
Your face held no negative feelings, only the patience you were known for. “Nat.” Slowly, you grabbed her trembling hand and got a bit closer. Your worry made her squirm.
“What’s going on?” you started softly, as if trying not to scare her. The consideration and gentleness in your voice made her almost burst into tears. “You’ve been behaving… strange this entire party. Running around all over the place… avoiding me.” You whispered the last words, clearly pained, and her heart shattered.
The last thing she wanted was to make you feel bad. “Did I do something wrong?”
Your question was so raw, your expression vulnerable, and Natasha wanted nothing more than to wrap you in her arms, kiss you gently, and reassure you that you didn’t—couldn’t—do anything to upset her. But she couldn’t, and the knowledge of it broke a little bit more.
“No, no, of course not. It’s just—” She started, her words getting stuck in her throat, unsure of how to put them together. “The others decided to put the place swarming with mistletoes.”
You looked at her in confusion. “Okay…why?”
Refusing eye contact, Natasha took a deep breath, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought you could hear it. Without dropping your hand, she stepped a little closer, her legs slightly trembling. She figured the best thing to do was to just say it and get it over with. She had already been making a fool of herself the entire day. But saying it was harder than she thought it would be. The fear of rejection was suffocating her.
“Because…” Finally daring to look at you, her neck reddening all up to the point of her ears, being suddenly conscious of the warmth radiating. “Because they know how serious you are about superstitions. And that if we got caught under one, then I… then I would finally dare to kiss you.”
The admission came as a whisper, shame and embarrassment hitting her like never before. It was as if she was going to combust from the inside. A pause hung between the two of you, each second of it feeling like a stab straight to her chest.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine losing you. You had become so close this year, and to think that just a couple of silly words could ruin everything was killing her. Her eyes closed tightly, waiting for the worst—a rejection, disgust, or just pity. Any of these would shatter her.
But it never came. Instead, she felt warmth—a gentle caress on her cheek, you softly urging her to open her eyes and look at you. Your face was far from the rejecting one that Natasha’s brain had conjured. Instead, it was a reassuring one, with a bright smile like the one you first gave her the day you met, your eyes soft and bright under the lights.
She blinked, as if the soft touch had pulled her back from her darkest places. Her heart seemed to stop, no longer beating out of fear but for hope. Because as she studied you, she saw nothing but kindness and happiness.
“You… you’re not upset?” she asked, as if it were too good to be true.
Your smile widened, laughing softly under your breath at her surprise. “Nat, how could I ever be upset? I—” This time it was you who searched for the right words, your cheeks flushed with a lovely rosy color that Natasha couldn’t help but find fascinating. “How could I, when I’ve been waiting for you to do this for quite some time?”
Your admission hung in the air, like a symphony. Natasha could feel the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. “You have?”
“Of course I have.” You confessed, as if the question were ridiculous to even ask. “You’ve been everything my heart has been yearning for, Natasha.”
Natasha sure wasn’t a poet, but right now she was seeing the world as one. The way in which your words embraced her, your slightly dilated eyes looking at her as if she was the only one on your mind.
Was this what the others saw? The look she has been too oblivious to see?
She wanted to hit her head in frustration, all the time wasted because of her doubts. But she was free of them now, having you as her savior.
Getting closer, she dared to pull you closer by your waist, marveling at how it felt in tandem with her movements, as if you two had done this a thousand times before, in different lives, before this one.
“So… you’re telling me I made that champagne pyramid fall all over Fury for nothing?” she asked, as if it were a secret.
You laughed loudly at that, remembering the moment when Natasha stumbled all over the table later on in the evening. Everything seemed to make sense now.
“You know…” you started, the laughter dying down as you softly tucked a piece of Natasha’s hair behind her ear, your touch lingering on her jaw. “For someone so intelligent and charismatic, you sure are clumsy at times.”
Natasha huffed, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smile. “Only because you…” she started, but caught herself, her eyes slightly widening.
You arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Only because of that? Do I make you nervous, Romanoff?” You grinned, adoring the way she seemed lost for words.
Sputtering, she tried to defend herself, but someone beat her to it.
“Very much so!” Tony yelled.
Your eyes snapped toward him, only to see the team huddled up behind the corner.
You snickered, Natasha flustered. “What are you…? Go away!” She hesitated.
Tony smirked. “Not so fast, Romanoff! You have to kiss.”
Confused, she followed his hand motion, only to see a mistletoe floating with surrounding red magic.
“Damn it, Wanda…” she muttered, but you just laughed at your friend’s antics, hiding your face in her shoulder.
Natasha’s attention shifted back to you, her smile filled with adoration. Finally, you peered up at her.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she started shyly, not wanting to pressure you into doing anything. But you only got closer to her.
“I don’t know, I think you do owe me a kiss,” you replied with a grin. “You know, to balance the universe.”
“Yeah…” she muttered, eyes lowering. “To balance the universe.” She reaffirmed, leaning down. But before her lips touched yours, she gripped you and dragged you both into her room, slamming the door shut. She ignored the muffled complaints heard from the hallway as she pinned you against it, wanting to have you all to herself.
Connecting her eyes with yours, she searched for any trace of doubt, but found nothing but darkened irises. Hesitation left her once and for all as she leaned in, her lips meeting yours. She sighed, and everything else seemed to fade into the distance.
The kiss was slow at first, gentle and tentative, giving you both time to discover each other. But the passion, held back for so long by insecurities and “what ifs,” broke free like a dam, intensifying everything tenfold. Her hand gripped your waist slightly harder, while one of your hands trailed up to her hair, tugging it just enough to make her shudder. Urgently, she pulled you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear.
Her breath quickened as she felt your body pressed against hers. The kiss deepened, turning frantic with all the pent-up desire. Suddenly, you tugged at her bottom lip, almost provocatively, as you looked up at her through your eyelashes. Natasha groaned, her heart racing. It was like seeing a whole new side of you, and she just couldn’t get enough.
Licking into your mouth, she hummed as your knees seemed to buckle, holding your hips to make sure you didn't fall.  No, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when she finally had you in her arms.
You could feel the tension in her body as you traced her shoulders and back, her muscles tensing with every movement. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of you, kissing you—consuming you with everything she had.
It left you breathless. If anything, air became the only obstacle, the only force capable of separating you. Both gasping for breath, you didn’t dare to say anything for a moment, just taking in the overwhelming sensation of being so close, so lost in each other. 
“You know, technically…” you started slowly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Technically, you interrupted my kiss with Carol before.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, her grip on you tightened, a small growl escaping her at the thought of anyone else getting the chance to do what you had just done. But you quickly calmed her, softly cupping the side of her face. “So, you owe me another kiss.”
She looked at you with darkened eyes, a mix of desire and challenge in her gaze. “I guess you’re right… We wouldn’t want to have bad luck.”
“Of course not,” you repeated, your lips brushing against hers as you gently guided her closer. “You know how superstitious I am.”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered, a teasing smile crossing her face as she closed the distance.
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roturo · 1 year ago
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⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!
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Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚。⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!
tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.
A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?
o(〃^▽^〃)o
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DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED
How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?
And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport. 
Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.
He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.
“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”
Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.
“Are you okay, Gojo?...”
“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”
A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well. 
“Gojo.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you hard right now?”
Silence. 
“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”
Sex- what?! 
Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.
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Knock. Knock. 
No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?
He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.
“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”
So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.
It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.
“G-Gojo…?”
Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you. 
“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”
His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.
A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.
“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”
Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.
“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”
His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.
You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.
Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.
Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.
His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.
And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.
“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”
The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.
“Will you please let me fuck you?”
A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.
His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it. 
“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”
Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.
Oh.
He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure. 
You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.
“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”
You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so  fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.
Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?
You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.
“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”
He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?
How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?
Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?
“Ah- shit baby.”
You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.
You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.
And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.
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chibinasuu · 3 months ago
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Luffy x Reader ― hot drinks; kisses
part of the cozy holidays event
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🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, pure fluff, established relationship, GN!reader, no use of y/n
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It was well past midnight when Luffy woke you up.
He not-so-gently shook you, but had the tact to whisper your name so as not to wake up your sleeping crewmates.
“Wha- Luffy?” You groggily asked, still half-asleep. You immediately jumped up, though, once you remembered that Luffy was supposed to be on night watch today, “Did something happen? Are we under attack?”
“No, everything’s fine.” He grinned, “I want some hot chocolate.”
You groaned and let yourself fall back into bed, “Go wake Sanji.”
“Aw, come on, I like your hot chocolate better!” He paused for a moment, then added quickly, “Don’t tell Sanji that!”
You couldn’t help but smile despite your annoyance at being woken up in the middle of the night. You felt yourself inevitably giving in – there was just something about Luffy that made it impossible for you to say no to him. 
“Alright,” You finally said, kicking off your blanket before quietly tiptoeing out of the room, “Let’s make you some hot chocolate.”
Luffy fist-pumped silently as he followed you to the kitchen.
Once you’ve gathered all of the ingredients, Luffy hopped onto the kitchen counter and watched quietly as you poured some milk into a pot, heating it slowly over medium-low heat. You chopped up a chocolate bar in the meanwhile, occasionally having to slap Luffy’s rubbery hand away as he tried to snatch some to snack on. After tossing the chocolate into the pot, you whisked it slowly, waiting for it to melt and incorporate into the milk. 
Luffy jumped down from the counter and wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering into your ear, “Is it ready yet?”
“No,” You chuckled, “The chocolate needs to melt completely.”
After a few minutes of you just stirring the liquid, you could feel Luffy getting more and more impatient. His hands had started wandering, running up and down your sides. He nibbled on your ear, and pressed kisses to your shoulder.
“Is it ready yet?” He asked again. 
“Not yet, just a bit more.” You turned your head to give him a kiss on the cheek, “Help me get the mugs ready?”
Luffy kept one arm around you as he stretched the other, reaching into one of the overhead cabinets and bringing out two mugs. 
You prepared Luffy’s portion first, pouring some of the thick chocolate goodness into a mug, before adding some whipped cream and a ton of marshmallows, just the way he liked it. You then filled your own mug, leaving some of the hot chocolate behind in the pot because you knew Luffy would ask for a second serving later.
You watched Luffy as he happily licked off the whipped cream, eyes sparkling once that first sip of the rich chocolate flowed into his mouth. You smiled fondly at his childlike wonder as you brought your mug to your lips, eager to have a taste of the drink too. 
“Ouch!” You jerked the mug away, feeling your tongue and lips burning. You had been so distracted watching Luffy enjoy his drink that you had forgotten to blow on the hot liquid that you had literally just poured from the boiling pot. 
Luffy immediately put down his mug, “You okay?”
“I think I burnt my tongue.” You said, sticking your tongue out in pain. 
Luffy surged toward you to take a closer look. Without warning, he leaned in and captured your tongue in between his lips, sucking on it gently.
Surprised and flustered, you quickly pulled back, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, “Luffy! Wh-what are you doing?”
Luffy merely grinned, “I’m kissing it better, of course!”
His sincerity made you laugh, giving you the courage to shyly lean in again, “Well, my lips are still burning. Do you mind kissing them better too?”
Your Captain wasted no time cupping your face in his hands and pressing his plush lips to yours. Gently at first, soft pecks to soothe your burning lips. He sucked on your bottom lip slowly, before moving on to your upper lip. Your hands went to his hair, grasping the soft strands and pulling him closer as you angled your mouth to deepen the kiss. 
He tasted like chocolate, and marshmallows, and whipped cream. 
“Feeling better now?” He mumbled against your lips in between kisses.
“Hmm, not yet,” You cheekily replied, “More, please.”
Luffy enthusiastically granted your request, capturing your lips again with renewed fervor. You lost yourself in him. No matter how many times you’ve kissed Luffy, it always felt like the first time – heart pounding, skin flushing, butterflies in your stomach. You simply couldn’t get enough. You breathed in deeply through your nose, savoring the smell of his shampoo, the lingering scent of chocolate in the air, and… smoke?
You pulled away, causing Luffy to whine and chase your lips, but you halted him with a hand on his chest. 
You turned toward the stove, and your heart dropped when what you saw confirmed your suspicion. You quickly turned off the fire, which you had apparently forgotten to do amidst the heat of things – your second blunder of the night. The leftover hot chocolate you set aside for Luffy was now a blackened, burned mess at the bottom of the pot. 
“Ugh,” You groaned, slapping Luffy in the chest, “This is your fault for being so damn distracting!”
Luffy apparently found your distress amusing, because he only laughed as he pulled you into a tight embrace, “My bad!”
He gave your cheek a big smooch, “Now, let’s get out of here before Sanji finds out about this.”
Needless to say, Luffy got an earful from the cook the next morning about the ruined pot. He took all the blame in stride and grinned widely as he apologized, never once mentioning your involvement in the incident to the enraged cook.
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a/n: i'm back with another cozy holiday fic! still recovering from my nasty cold, but i’m feeling a lot better now!! thanks everyone who sent me well wishes (and sanjis with soups) 🥹🫶🏻
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
↳ main masterlist
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months ago
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Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader
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An As You Wish story
Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.
Note: Happy Thanksgiving!
Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry
Words: 3.7k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.
“This looks like a nice house,” he says as he pushes the door all the way open. “Might be able to steal something nice.”
A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.
“We’re not thieves!” Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.
“Miaaaaaa!” Eliza’s heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination. 
Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.
“What about me? Am I chop liver?” 
Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncle’s arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.
“Noooo!” Eliza whines, her little legs kicking. 
“Oh, fine,” Steve sighs as he lets her down.
Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.
“Grandpa!”
“There’s my girl!”
Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.
“Where’s Daddy?” Wayne asks.
“Dunno,” Eliza answers with a shrug.
“He’s outside,” Luke says as he strolls into the room.
Nancy can’t help but notice how her youngest’s face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Mia’s adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesn’t notice the hearts in the young redhead’s eyes.
“Should we lock him out?” Steve asks about your husband.
Wayne sighs. “Eh, he’s scrappy, he’ll find a way back in,” he says as he sets Eliza back down. 
The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girl’s sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return. 
“Yeah,” Steve says as he watches the girls. “I think the little munchkin would let him in.” He nods towards Eliza.
“She can’t reach the door,” Danny points out to his dad.
“Eliza finds a way to do anything,” Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience he’s had in that regard.
Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction. 
“Shit!” Your voice echoes out into the living room.
Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.
“Play nice,” she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. “Everything okay in here?”
Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.
“Gave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.”
“I’m sure they will,” Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. “Anything I can do to help?”
Steve’s voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.
“You’re on, Munson!”
Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.
“Keep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?” you ask.
“I’m afraid not.” Nancy winces. It’s an impossible task, you both know that.
As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the room–never one for just walking–with a grin on his face. 
“We’re going to play football!” he announces.
You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.
“Who exactly is ‘we?” you ask.
“Me, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, Daddy…and uh, maybe Natalie.”
The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.
“Your father is going to play football?”
“He’s gonna try,” Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving son’s disbelieving and amused tone. You’re not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.
“Is that what he and Steve were bickering about?” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.
“Yeah,” he affirms. “Mia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.”
“Luke, come on!” Theo calls out.
“My daughter is a little mother hen,” Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously. 
Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of them—all of them except Ryan and Natalie.
“Come on, it will be fun,” Ryan says from the next room just as you’re wondering about him.
The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, “Fine.”
Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.
“I’m impressed,” she says. “No one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.”
“Hormones?” you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.
“Oh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.”
“Oof, I do not miss being a teenager,” you say.
“What, you stopped, like, last year?” 
You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.
“Come on, now let me help you,” she chides.
“Fine,” you relent. “Want to chop those carrots?”
“No problem.”
Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but they’re not quite as heavy as Eliza’s usually are, so you’re not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.
“Auntieeee?” she asks you as she comes to a stop.
“Miaaaaaa?”
“Eliza is hungry,” she tells you. “Can I get her a snack?”
“Sure thing, cutie.” You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. “Just make sure she doesn’t eat too many, okay?”
“Okay!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.
Just as you’re about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.
“Well, hello there,” you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. “You wanna join Eliza and Mia?” When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.
The moment your arms are free, you’re being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her mother’s arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.
“I can’t believe how big she is!” you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months. 
Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since she’s still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.
“Eliza?” you call. “Do you want to come say hi?”
It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio that’s in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Max—who is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.
“Hi, Eliza!” When your daughter doesn’t answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. “Remember me? Uncle Dustin?”
She just keeps staring.
Lucas laughs at the little girl’s nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. “Mwah!” he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.
Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.
“Hey! I’m the cool uncle!” he protests. And it’s true; if the other kids were in the house right now, they’d all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.
“Guess not anymore,” Lucas says with a shrug.
“It’s gotta be because I live further away,” Dustin argues. “She sees me less.”
“Sure,” Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.
Max rolls her eyes at the two men’s bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husband’s arms and turns to face Dustin’s wife.
“These stilly boys,” Max says to Eliza. “Say hi to your Aunt Anne?”
Your daughter gives a small wave, but it’s clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.
“Where’s Ed?” Dustin asks.
“In the backyard,” you say. “Playing football.”
“Football?” Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.
“I know,” you say.
“I have to see this,” Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 
He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, it’s not the same as having other ladies around.
Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Mia’s idea, no doubt.
There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.
“What did you do, little girl?” you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.
Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.
“Molly hungry!” she tells you.
“Oh, okay,” you say with a nod. “So, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?”
“Mhmm!” She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.
“Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”
Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.
“What’re you troublemakers doing?” she asks as she comes up beside you. 
A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.
“Go ahead, take care of that. I’ll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.”
“Thank you.” You give Max’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.
Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven. 
Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.
“I think I’m going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,” she says.
“Nurse is never off duty, huh?” Nancy asks with a smile.
When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow. 
“She wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?” you ask. “She clearly doesn’t know that is most of what our husbands do.”
Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.
“We should keep her here as an on-call nurse.”
“She’d be busier here than in the ER,” you joke. 
You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.
“Is something burning?” she asks.
“What?”
You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove. 
“Smell it?” she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.
You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.
“No,” you admit.
“That’s because there’s nothing burning,” Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. “But it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?”
Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.
“You’re sneaky,” you tell her.
“I have to be with four kids,” she replies. 
It’s not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. It’s only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.
“Everything smells good,” he mumbles against your mouth.
“Did you win?” you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.
His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles.
Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his father’s, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.
“Can I help?” Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.
“Of course, sweetheart.” You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. “Do you want to get started on the stuffing?”
“Sure.”
Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.
“Cooking is for girls,” the eight-year-old declares.
“Danny!” Nancy immediately snaps. 
“Hey,” Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. “I was a cook in the army. That don’t sound girly, does it?”
Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.
“No,” he says softly.
“What do you say?” Nancy asks.
“I’m sorry.”
Ryan ruffles the boy’s hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs he’s carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.
“Hey, all available squirts!” Eddie calls from the next room.
“I’m not available,” Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.
Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasn’t lived there for years.
“Uh, I’m supposed to set the table. Where’s the stuffs?” he asks.
“By yourself?” you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.
“Nope.” 
Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask what’s so funny, Mia follows in behind him. It’s clear she volunteered to be your son’s assistant.
“I’m here to help!” she announces. 
Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think they’re able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.
“Quite the operation you’ve got going here,” you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. “Putting the kids to work.”
“They’re my elves,” he says with a shrug. 
You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.
Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesn’t ask why; he knows they’ll tell him.
“I don’t want to sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.
Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kids’ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and she’s clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.
“Me neither,” she says while mentally calculating. 
Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity. 
“Okay, you guys can sit with us,” he tells them. “As long as you contribute to the conversation.”
“Really?” Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. “By the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?”
Lucas doesn’t miss a beat.
“Huh,” he muses. “You know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.”
“Ugh fine, we’ll sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan groans.
The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.
“Don’t even know if I got all the terms right,” Lucas admits.
Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the table—well, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kids’ table. She’s practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesn’t take her attention from her dinner. 
Annie settles Molly into her own highchair—Eliza’s old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.
The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddie’s seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kids’ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Eliza’s plate and playfully tug on one of Luke’s curls.
Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them. 
“You’re gonna lose a finger, boy,” Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife. 
Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesn’t set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isn’t sure there’s enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone “should be” and shrug, telling them they’re out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed. 
You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldn’t hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasn’t quelled the yearning. 
Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.
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jjungkookislife · 1 year ago
Text
Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)
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pairing: jungkook x f. reader
genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog
summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.
You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.
wc: 14.3k
warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie
a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!
read part one here
date: January 12, 2024
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The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving. 
Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.
A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent. 
The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece. 
“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly. 
Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him. 
“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh. 
“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him. 
“Mom!”
Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you. 
“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles. 
“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”
“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face. 
You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”
Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door. 
“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”
Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs. 
“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.” 
“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue. 
Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try. 
By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert. 
“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”
Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”
Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”
“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home. 
“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader. 
You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them. 
You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand. 
“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”
“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”
“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”
“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.
“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys. 
Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs. 
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”
“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”
“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”
Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”
Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room. 
The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room. 
By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him. 
“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you. 
“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk. 
“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook. 
“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”
“School.”
“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours. 
His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.
“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes. 
Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”
You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children. 
“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within. 
Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands. 
“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents. 
“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room. 
“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”
The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs. 
Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”
“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.
“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”
“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”
“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”
Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat. 
“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”
You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher. 
“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook. 
“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend. 
“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.
“Here they come.”
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The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on. 
The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie. 
Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs. 
Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing. 
“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly. 
“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered. 
“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states. 
Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.
“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed. 
Aera does so reluctantly.
Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him. 
Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap. 
“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.
“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest. 
Jungkook nods in agreement. 
“Do you need anything before I go?”
You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.
“A goodnight kiss?”
Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans. 
“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips. 
“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room. 
You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed. 
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The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”
“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep. 
Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm. 
“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”
Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”
“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table. 
You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug. 
By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand. 
Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work. 
Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out. 
“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door. 
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You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again. 
“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen. 
He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”
You giggle, shaking your head. 
“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face. 
Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now. 
You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt. 
“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt. 
Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more. 
His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back. 
“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close. 
“Shit!” A voice startles you.
You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you. 
“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile. 
“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook. 
“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it. 
Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”
“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”
“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth. 
“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him. 
“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off. 
Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips. 
“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you. 
Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow. 
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Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”
“Babe,” Seojun protests. 
“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”
 Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense. 
“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”
Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”
“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”
“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin. 
Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature. 
-
A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller. 
Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.
“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”
“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick. 
Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”
You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo. 
“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event. 
Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic. 
“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”
“Four months?” Seojun asks.
“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple. 
You clear your throat. “Almost six.”
“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller. 
Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”
“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”
The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks. 
How far would you take this?
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Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends. 
You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.
Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi. 
“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram. 
“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”
“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses. 
“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”
“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder. 
Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm. 
“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth. 
“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”
“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”
“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it. 
“I have copies,” Jimin smirks. 
“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.” 
Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”
“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.
“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod. 
Joon and Tae look at the two of you.
Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side. 
“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully. 
“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins. 
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It was not a piece of cake. 
And if it was, it was a shit cake.
Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus. 
“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases. 
Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic. 
“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose. 
“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door. 
“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted. 
“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat. 
“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”
Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”
Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”
“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”
Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies. 
“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile. 
“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman. 
“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you. 
“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?” 
Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink. 
“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. 
“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down. 
“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely. 
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. 
“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head. 
“Mom!”
“Grandmother!”
“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”
“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact. 
“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”
“But-!”
“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go. 
“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”
Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”
“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek. 
“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”  
“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants. 
“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”
“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat. 
“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua. 
“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs. 
Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”
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Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.
Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight. 
Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him. 
Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair. 
You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.
“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”
“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand. 
“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner. 
“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response. 
“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table. 
“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak. 
“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”
“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”
“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her. 
“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table. 
Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”
“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts. 
Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch. 
“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket. 
“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her. 
“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat. 
Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick. 
“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself. 
Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents. 
“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother. 
“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”
Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone. 
“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace. 
For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.
Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night. 
“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”
You look at Jungkook with wide eyes. 
“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”
“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”
“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”
“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs. 
On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly. 
Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it. 
You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”
“What do we do?” 
“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch. 
“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”
“But it’s your room. Your bed.”
“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”
You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.  
Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room. 
He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.  
The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence. 
“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.
You throw a stuffed animal at him. 
“Jungkook!”
“What? You were thinking about it!”
“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes. 
“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks. 
“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.
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Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking. 
You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use. 
“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor. 
“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless. 
Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day. 
With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice. 
Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!
“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed. 
Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!” 
“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him. 
Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes. 
“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt. 
“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling. 
What a great way to start his morning.
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Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?
“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms. 
The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook. 
Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt. 
His dog-aunt.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home. 
Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road. 
“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on. 
“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk. 
“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss. 
“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”
“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller. 
Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing. 
“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.
“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk. 
“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact. 
“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away. 
“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests. 
“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.
Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright. 
“I told you that in confidence!”
“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.  
Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.
You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.
“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”
Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him. 
Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question. 
“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.
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Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping. 
Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be. 
Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about. 
Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor. 
You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music. 
“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.
“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his. 
“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders. 
Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon. 
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.
“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”
Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck. 
He nods. “If you’re sure.”
“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall. 
You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head. 
Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it. 
His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again. 
“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart. 
“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips. 
“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.  
“I can’t wait, Koo.”
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Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch. 
You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling. 
By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background. 
He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out. 
A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit. 
You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost 
immediately as he sets the towel down.  
“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring. 
“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced. 
“Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique. 
You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze. 
“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you. 
“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.
You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift. 
“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours. 
“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly. 
“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them. 
“Fuck,” you whimper. 
Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.  
“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later. 
Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.
“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours. 
You nod.
“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”
“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”
Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time. 
Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs. 
“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are. 
“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward. 
“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need. 
Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”
Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts. 
“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod. 
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts. 
“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already. 
When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.
“Yes, please.” 
Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor. 
You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you. 
The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you. 
“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 
“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud. 
“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.  
Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock. 
“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you. 
Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 
Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home. 
Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook. 
Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest. 
“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze. 
Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection. 
“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.
Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him. 
“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar. 
“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides. 
“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist. 
Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on. 
“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head. 
You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers. 
He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep. 
Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.  
“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens. 
You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”
Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom. 
Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn. 
Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend. 
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Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí. 
Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself. 
Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots. 
Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook. 
“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head. 
“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.  
“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin. 
“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”
Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”
“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name. 
Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back. 
“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung. 
Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later. 
“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing. 
“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”
The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 
Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either. 
At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball. 
Oh, no.
He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.  
Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”
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Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.
Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna. 
Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall. 
“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours. 
You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.  
“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you. 
You face him, your fingers laced with his. 
“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently. 
“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face. 
Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.
“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now. 
Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”
Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him. 
His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”
“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips. 
Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak. 
As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted. 
However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it. 
If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him. 
“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips. 
His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you. 
Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it. 
Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it. 
With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards. 
Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…
Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip. 
Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal. 
Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours. 
Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning. 
You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips. 
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss. 
Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours. 
“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb. 
“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”
You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open. 
You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss. 
“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it. 
You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed. 
Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose. 
He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him. 
“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him. 
“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips. 
He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath. 
“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.
Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment. 
It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again. 
“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit. 
“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”
Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back. 
“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. 
“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily. 
You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house. 
The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined. 
Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you. 
Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you. 
“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you. 
You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand. 
Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined. 
The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum. 
Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips. 
“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face. 
“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him. 
Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.  
“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. 
Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”
You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.
Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back. 
Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long. 
“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt. 
Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with. 
Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily. 
His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of. 
You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi. 
“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick. 
“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet. 
Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again. 
“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears. 
The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you. 
“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling. 
“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him. 
“Baby!”
“Jungkook!”
“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.
“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent. 
Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed. 
But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him. 
Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”
You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom. 
Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers. 
“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”
You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you. 
You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. 
“Sleep well, darling.”
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Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.
It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons. 
“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival. 
Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes. 
One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you. 
You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor. 
“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”
Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”
Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.
“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa. 
“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”
You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces. 
“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo. 
Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest. 
“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly. 
“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table. 
“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”
You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key. 
You can’t do this. 
Not anymore.
The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong. 
You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself. 
“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you. 
Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning. 
“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”
Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you. 
Minji shakes her head.
“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”
Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.
“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”
Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae. 
“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”
“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son. 
“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”
“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”
“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”
“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.
Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”
You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again. 
“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.
You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.
“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”
“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock. 
“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh. 
“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it. 
“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles. 
“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí. 
The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you. 
“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie. 
“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”
“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions. 
“Yes,” you say with a wry smile. 
“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head. 
“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows. 
“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours. 
Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant. 
“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek. 
“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow. 
“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”
“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head. 
“Whoops!” Jimin laughs. 
“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky. 
“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball. 
Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook. 
Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest. 
Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him. 
You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction. 
Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover. 
You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you. 
The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer. 
Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes. 
“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers. 
“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.
“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.
“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.
“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”
“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”
Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”
Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his. 
There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync. 
Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights. 
There’s nothing more he could ever want.
When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?” 
Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.” 
“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer. 
“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.
 “Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.” 
You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side. 
Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.
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<&lt; part one
© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
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httpknjoon · 23 days ago
Text
quite an impression | myg
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plot | that time where the afterparty left quite an impression on the not-so-friendly relationship between the popstar and her bassist.
w.c | 5.1k
pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader
genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist
main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?
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After the show, everyone, including the band and the show's crew members, was told that you and your management prepared an afterparty for everyone in one of the known yet private hotspots around New York City.
Everyone agreed to come, including Yoongi due to the band's persuasion. Plus, he doesn't really have anything to do back in his hotel room. The holiday EP's done. The concert tour just finished its first leg, which means their one-month holiday break basically started the moment you closed the show a while ago.
"What happened to your Valentino suit?" Fred was the first to ask when Yoongi joined the rest of the band on their ride to the afterparty venue.
Yoongi shakes his head lazily, "Don't want to ruin it at the party."
Before getting back into his usual clothes, Yoongi had to convince Paul to let him change. But your stylist was eager to make him wear it to the party tonight. He told him that there would be paparazzi there to take pictures of them arriving.
"I don't really care what I'm wearing if I ever get photographed tonight," Yoongi replied to Paul. It's not like I'm the main star, he thought.
He was so sure that the paparazzi were not interested in taking photos of them, but the moment their ride stopped in front of the private bar, Yoongi could hear the little commotion outside. There were paparazzi waiting by the sidelines with their big cameras and as soon as a car stopped, they got up to prepare to whoever is in the vehicle.
"This is crazy." Akio gasped as they all looked outside their tinted windows.
"Okay, put on your sunglasses if y'all don't want to be blind before we even get to the party." Noah, who has been a part of your team for years now, told them.
Yoongi was thankful he followed what your lead guitarist advised because the moment they got out of the car. There are flashing lights everywhere. He can hear some people calling his name, which is something he still needs to get used to. He doesn't remember getting much attention when he was at other artists' shows. Hearing various voices call his name everywhere makes him feel weird— not in a good way. They didn't stop for photos, heading straight to the private club's entrance while being guided by one of your security staff.
"I love playing for big artists," Akio whispered when they entered the venue, already eyeing the cocktails not too far from where they stood. "They know how to party."
It was obvious, the moment they got in, that the afterparty was well-prepared and expensive. Although the lights were dimmed and colorful fairy lights mainly provided lights for the place, there were customized holiday decors everywhere to celebrate your EP, which plays in the background. There are ice sculptures of your brand's logo and even a few mistletoes on entryways with your signature kiss mark placed on them.
"Yeah, YN's label is never scared to splurge money on her," Noah said, pulling out his phone to take a picture of the place.
Who will be scared anyway? You are one of the biggest pop stars in the world currently. Your songs earn hundreds of thousands of streams every day and almost everything you do gets praised by your fans and critics. Everyone, even you yourself, knows you are the top cash cow of your company at the moment, considering your recent tour and EP release. You are an investment worth investing in.
Yoongi stayed quiet while his eyes scanned the whole place. He never really cared about parties, but he could not deny that your label made an effort to make tonight's celebration impressive.
Everyone was invited, from your concert staff down to the late-night show crew members. While the band was walking through the crowd, Yoongi took a glimpse of Art, chatting with the producers of the late-night show you just hosted. Your dancers also came, already enjoying the dancefloor with other guests. There are more faces Yoongi had recognized, but there are some he still hasn't seen yet. Paul... Cal... You.
"Yoongi, over here!"
Suddenly, somebody called his name, snapping him out of his trance. Yoongi turned and immediately spotted another familiar face waving his hand across the room. It was a friendly gesture from Ben, one of the tour's sound engineers, Yoongi raised his hand, offering a small wave before walking deeper in Ben's direction. Along the way, one of the waiters offered him a drink and Yoongi got one, quickly taking a sip to hopefully give some energy to him to socialize. Nods and smiles were exchanged once Yoongi joined the small group, which included a few of your staff and a couple of writers from the late-night show. Ben was in the middle of telling the others of something.
"Yeah, the tour just ended its first leg this week. I think we'll be back touring internationally in the last week of January though. Right, Yoongi?"
Feeling a lot of eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, Yoongi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away, "Yeah, I think so."
Ben went on to talk about the work he does in your shows. Yoongi, as usual, just listened and observed the lively crowd.
"I saw you on the show earlier, you are a great guest." someone in the group spoke, making Yoongi look back to them.
A woman in a ribbed-knit, V-neck, white sweater smiled at him, offering her hand, "I'm Bea, one of the writers of The Late, Late Show."
"Yoongi, YN's bassist." he shakes her hand.
"And favorite band member?" Bea teased, referencing the question in the show earlier. They both laughed.
Yoongi smiled, shaking his head before sipping from his glass, "Not sure about that."
"Oh, trust me. Based on our team's research, you seem to be YN's favorite." the curly-haired brunette smirked.
"What research?" he asked, now curious about what she said.
"Well, you know, our team does research on our guests before writing for them. Then, we noticed how many times you two interacted on stage during shows, even your outfits aligned during her Halloween shows," she answered casually. "She always seemed to gravitate towards you."
Her tone seemed to be implying something, making Yoongi shake his head again.
"She just likes to play around on stage." he denied whatever Bea must be thinking.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." she sneered, hiding an obvious smile while drinking from her cocktail.
Yoongi looked at her, trying to decode her thoughts, and when she felt her stare on him, she simply smiled, "I mean, I kinda get her."
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As the music gets louder and the crowd gets bigger, Yoongi finds himself chatting with Bea ever since they met half an hour ago. They occupied one of the booths in the club alone while they talked about their jobs in the entertainment industry, something they are similar to.
Bea is funny, witty, and smart, Yoongi thought. He likes that she doesn't force him to speak in their conversation. He didn't really mind her telling him about her experiences as someone who moved here to New York eight months ago. It's better than being forced to jive on the dancefloor, something he's not really fond of.
"Yeah, I was actually scared to come here tonight." Bea shared, chuckling.
"And why is that?" Yoongi asked, slightly leaning closer to hear her over the loud music.
"I heard that staff members from other shows have to pay for their own drinks at after-parties like these, and I just can't do that right now. I have rent to pay!" she exclaimed, making both her and Yoongi laugh. She then rested her chin on her palm on the table, "How about you? Do you enjoy these parties?"
"Not really..." he was quick to answer, not bothering to conceal his dislike for social events. "Everything's too much at parties. The drinks, the people— even the music, it's too loud."
That's another thing he and his ex used to be contrasted about. Sara will always be at parties back in LA because of her job. It's a place for widening her networking in her perspective. Sometimes it is necessary for her to attend, sometimes she just wants to. Yoongi, on the other hand, is not a fan of networking. As long as someone is interested in collaborating with him, he's gonna be fine. But he cannot deny that Sara helped him get more people to work with him whenever she pulled him along with her at parties. She literally introduced him to Art years ago.
Bea chuckled, "Isn't it ironic that you're literally a bass guitarist and you hate loud music?"
"There's a difference between music and what's basically a noise." he joked.
Just when Yoongi took another sip of his drink, there was a sudden change of energy in the room. The music lowered slightly, and the whispers and turning of heads at the main entrance got more noticeable.
"Looks like the woman of the hour has arrived." Bea mused next to him.
Everyone can hear the main door opening, along with the sound of cameras clicking and people calling your name. Then, it was followed by familiar voices laughing and chattering. Yoongi didn't bother to turn around to the doorway until Bea murmured.
"Oh, they arrived together."
He finally glanced at the doorway, catching sight of you at the center. You were glowing with your gold closed-fitting, thin-strapped mini-dress. He wondered if you got cold outside while wearing that glamorous dress, but then he saw Cal next to you, holding a fur that he assumed was yours.
Then, he also noticed who was standing on your left. Harry was holding your waist as you greeted the first people who approached you. You two were a pleasant eyesight, a perfect eyesight for everyone. It was obvious how you two were comfortable with each other. Harry leaned closer to you to whisper something, and you would easily laugh like he was the funniest person in the world. Yoongi looked away, back at minding his business.
"They used to date, didn't they?" Bea whispered next to him.
Yoongi shrugged, "I don't really know."
"You should. You were Harry's bassist during his first album, right? I heard he wrote songs about her in there." she went on.
He raised an eyebrow, "You really did your research, huh?"
"Told ya." she clicked her tongue before looking back to you and Harry. "They still look cute together, don't they?"
"Yeah," Yoongi mindlessly replied even though he was not looking anymore.
He took another scan of the whole room. He stops when he sees you looking at him while everyone in the circle you're in is having conversations. Your eyes traveled from him to the woman next to him. Your eyebrows raised and you looked back at him again. Just when lines form between his brows, Yoongi sees you joining your group's conversation once again. It was a brief and quiet interaction— confusing for Yoongi— that seemed to be only known by you two.
"That was... interesting." Bea, the best observer, smirked into her drink.
The night went on with you and Yoongi being on separate sides of the room. Yoongi introduced Bea to the band, joining them in their booth. He ignored Fred's teasing stare ever since his new writer-friend sat with them. Noah also has his boyfriend with him, adding more fun to their conversations. At some point, Yoongi excused himself from the booth, getting up next to Bea.
"Oh, where are you going?" she asked with her hand on his arm.
"I'll get another drink, want some?" He answered, nodding at her empty glass.
She smiled, "Yeah, sure."
"Don't try to escape the party!" Noah teased him as Yoongi walked away, rolling his eyes at his friend.
He was about to walk to the bar, but decided to stop midway, heading to the restroom first. After doing his business and enjoying the quick solitude, Yoongi rinsed his hand and walked out to the dimly lit entryway. He was not paying much attention to his surroundings, just aiming to get to the brighter entryway to the party, causing him to bump into someone.
"Oh."
It was a light collision, but you were wearing your strappy God-knows-how-high heels, causing you to lose balance a little. He was quick to catch you and help you steady yourself.
"Sorry, didn't see you there," he mumbled.
"Clearly," you looked up with a snarky reply and the same smile you always give him. "Enjoying the night?"
Was it a little unexpected question from you? Yes. But maybe you've been asking everyone that since you are the host of the party. Yoongi wouldn't want to overthink it.
"Yeah, it was fun." he replied like he didn't spend his time talking to people he only knows except for Bea.
You hummed, "Bea seems nice though."
He paused, staring at you for a second, "You know her?"
Shrugging, you replied, "Met her during preparations for the show earlier. She seemed pretty smart and witty."
Were you watching them? Yoongi starts to wonder since he sees you vibing with Harry and your other guests whenever he catches glances at you in the crowd. He cannot tell by your tone if you are just being friendly, casual, or just teasing. But the way you were looking at him got his throat running dry, making him gulp hard.
Before he could figure out what to say next, a voice piped up from one of the small circles near the entryway.
"Oh my gosh, look up!"
Your eyes widened. Yoongi frowned. Right above you, it's one of the few mistletoes in the place. The small circle cheered, getting more attention to their direction.
One of your dancers urged, "You have to kiss now!"
"Ugh, seriously? Do we really have to do this?" you tried to play it off, acting dramatically.
But Yoongi can feel the tension growing in the small space between you, making everything more awkward. All while your concert staff enjoy how you are both caught off guard, knowing your childish and petty relationship behind the scenes.
"It's a tradition!" someone sing-songed.
Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, "But it's just a plant."
"It is!" you laughing awkwardly.
It felt like high school— or even middle school. Like they were stuck in a game of truth or dare. The cheers for them got louder and clearer. Yoongi only looks at you, trying to read your thoughts. But you were exchanging jokes with the small audience.
“Wow, you guys are really committed to this tradition, huh?” you let out a breathy laugh.
In all honesty, Yoongi would not mind kissing you. Will it be awkward? Yeah, probably. But you both know that the easiest way to end this scenario is to just get over it. A quick kiss, then move on! It's not like everyone will make a big deal out of it.
But why? Why is it so hard?
You took in a slow inhale as you looked at your bassist standing in front of you. How can he still have the same blank expression on his face while you were shitting bricks, trying not to make the atmosphere awkward? You swallowed. Hard. You wondered where's the liquid courage when you need it. Kissing is never a problem with you. Hell, you were the one who suggested putting mistletoes everywhere tonight, unprepared that you are your own victim.
Yoongi's lips parted when you took a step closer to him. So close that he can smell the same sweet vanilla scent he sensed when you gave him a quick hug earlier after the show. He cannot help but study your features as you stand this close to him.
"Let's just do it?" your glossy lips whispered.
"Okay." He replied, almost breathless.
When he unexpectedly yet gently held your waist, you unconsciously held your breath like his soft touch burns your skin. You can still feel the tightness in your chest when his lips brushed against yours, like a feather. It would have been meaningless if one pulled away as soon as your lips touched. But for a half second, no one moved. You felt like leaning it when you felt his slight squeeze on your waist. But before anything could happen, it was over.
Brief and light.
Everyone cheered as you went along in this stupid holiday tradition. Yet the noise was all drawn out in the background as you and Yoongi slowly pulled away from each other.
In that quick second, you swore you felt his warm breath as he pulled away. You blinked, but still, stared back at him. Your heart was beating too fast, you didn't like it.
Yoongi didn't like that when he pulled away, he could not think of anything to say. It was like his brain into a factory reset, resetting everything he knew. He remembered you singing this close to him during one of your shows, thinking you looked like an angel. He still thinks the same thing.
After getting your souls back on the ground, Yoongi let go of your waist and you took a step back. Everyone is still having their reaction. Someone even whistled, making you turn back to the crowd. You forced a laugh.
"Satisfied?" you played it off with the crowd.
Yoongi's jaw clenched as he turned around leaving the entryway, ignoring the warmth that was still lingering on his lips. The image of your face close to his cannot get out of his head. He walked straight to the bar to get another drink.
You, on the other hand, ran back to the restroom. Looking back on yourself in the mirror, your fingers slowly touched your lips as you felt like they had been tingling ever since Yoongi pulled away. Realization sets in as your bite your lower lip.
Fuck, you wanted more.
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For the rest of the night, you and Yoongi got some unspoken agreement to not stand within a six-foot distance between them. Yoongi found more comfort, sitting next to Bea, who raised a brow, when he came back to their booth after the kiss. He simply shook his head with that. She took it that he didn't want to talk about it.
"So are you guys playing tonight?" she asked him.
"I don't know, really," Yoongi replied, resting his arm behind her seat.
"I mean, it would be really cool to see you play at this party." she drew circles on the rim of her cocktail's glass before playfully tilting her head to him. "You know, just throwing the idea out there... Only if there are instruments laying around at this par— Oh, wait. There it is!"
Yoongi laughed at her feigned yet coy innocence as she tried to convince them to play. He scanned the room, looking for the instruments Bea was referring to. Instead, he catches you looking at him before quickly turning your back. Something in his stomach flipped before he finally found what he was looking for.
"You alright, angel?"
As soon as you turned your back to your bassist, Harry, who had his hand on the small of your back, asked. You looked up, putting on a smile before nodding. Ever since he said about your nose flaring when you lie, you try to be careful about not saying the truth around him. He smiled, pinching your nose.
"Looks like that kiss did something to you." he leaned into your ear as he teased you.
You moved away, glaring at him, "It's just a mistletoe kiss. Nothing too special about it, H."
"Okay, okay, if you insist." he chuckled.
You rolled your eyes, "I feel like you're trying to push an agenda here and I am just gonna ignore that."
Feeling your face warming up, you walked away to distract yourself with something else. It's nothing! You repeated in your head as if to remind yourself. Yoongi seemed to thought the same thing since you saw him getting comfortable with the same girl he's been talking to ever since you arrived.
There is a tightness in your chest. You had to stop one of the waiters who was going around with shots of espresso martini. You took one and immediately let it slid down your throat before returning the glass to the same guy.
Out of the blue, you hear a familiar beat of the drum playing along your song that was playing in the background. The small crowd in the dancefloor started cheering. Turning around, you see your live band on the small stage back in their element. The lights were dim, but you can see your bassist pushing his hair back, which somehow made your throat dry.
"I think we need a vocalist." Noah spoke on the mic.
Your eyes widened, you know he sees you with your shimmering gold dress. And the spotlight that landed on you didn't help for you to hide in the corner of the room. Shaking your hands to your sides, you exhaled before walking up to the stage. The last thing you want now is to stand next to your bassist, especially when you're confused and having a meltdown in your head. But your forever motto plays in your head, fake it 'til you make it.
The band continue playing along with the song that was already playing in the background. You took a sip from a bottle of water Cal handed you before catching up on the song. Shaking it off, you put on your usual popstar persona. The one who's confident, spontaneous, and maybe a little annoying to your bassist.
An idea pops in your head, making you signal to the band to repeat the song from the start. They followed, same with the DJ who turned down the music. Noah began counting and Yoongi almost crashed out in his head when he felt you standing close to him.
Unexpectedly, you lifted his chin, making him look at you. You silently hoped he is under the same spell as you are, not knowing that your touch burns his skin. Looking straight to his eyes, you sung,
"Oh, I leave quite an impression..."
The moment you saw a hint of something familiar in his gaze, you tried to bit off a victory smirk, letting go of him and turning to the crowd. A spur of energy grew quickly in you, knowing that you're not the only one struggling here.
The crowd sings along throughout the whole song. Yoongi was quite relieved that you didn't try to pull something on him again. He knew you got him earlier in the song, hence why you are suddenly more confident now, dancing on stage. Your hips swayed along with the beats and he finds himself almost getting out of tune, distracted. He played it off, adding a cool riff in your song, which made you turn to him.
"Show off." you scoffed in the mic, making the crowd laugh.
"Every time you close your eyes, And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine..."
That gave you another reason to annoy him. Yoongi felt you resting on his sides like he was a wall. You slowly slid down as you sang the bridge before getting up to let the crown scream the line,
"Yeah, I know I've been known to share!"
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Yoongi tried to stay as far as possible from you after that performance. Harry sang too after you called him on stage, which didn't really distract Yoongi as they played the song your ex wrote about you. Only Angel. What a fitting title? He thought.
After that, they played a couple more songs before getting back to their booth. He was so ready to get back to the hotel, but he didn't to leave Bea alone, who he enjoyed talking with tonight. She just finished her fourth glass of the night when she noticed the time on her watch.
"Oh, it's almost midnight." She murmured as the corners of her lips dropped.
"And? Are you Cinderella?" Yoongi quipped.
Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, "Well, yeah. Fairy Godmother will take away this thick ribbed-knit sweater once I don't show up in Central Park on time."
They laughed. She continued, "I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning. Need to be home before Christmas."
Bea began saying goodbye to everyone. Yoongi said he'll go back to the hotel too, and got a knowing look from his bandmates. He rolled his eyes, lifting his middle finger at them, which made them laugh. The party is dying down anyway. Yoongi saw you saying goodbye to Harry before he left after he performed on stage. Then, he didn't catch sight of you again.
"How about you? Going back to LA for the holidays?" Bea asked as they walked out of the private lounge.
Yoongi clicked his tongue, "I don't know. I have no plans yet."
They stopped on the pavement. The paparazzi are long gone, it's just them and the distant noise of the city.
"Maybe you can come to Seattle with me? Want to meet my parents?" she joked. "But seriously, I enjoyed talking with you, Yoongi."
He smiled, feeling a warmth on his chest, "Me too, Bea."
As if on cue, a yellow cab stopped in front of them. Bea looked at him before getting on her tiptoes to give his cheek a soft peck.
"Contact me. Let's see each other again once we're in the same place again. Okay?" she smiled, hopeful.
He nods at her with a small smile before she gets in the cab, waving at her before the car drives away. For a few seconds, Yoongi stood there alone. He looked down, remembering the last time he went on a date. As an image of Sara came up in his mind, he shook it off while walking away.
Yoongi did not mind walking from the party to the hotel. It was a twenty-minute stroll. He needed it with so many thoughts in his head to organize. His dating game, the mistletoe, Bea, your gold mini-dress that exposed your back, his plans for Christmas, your face when you pulled away, his house back in LA... the kiss.
What the fuck.
He paused just right before the hotel everyone in your staff is staying at. You kept on reeling back in his head, he did not even notice it. Suddenly, he's recalling your scent and the softness of your lips on his. It lingers. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Then, he remembered your own fingers running through his jet-black hair when he was asked to show up during your Bed Chem performance. Your gaze under the red lights. His Adam's apple bobbed as he thought about it.
As he walked into the hotel elevator, Yoongi thought of hopping into a quick shower before sleeping tonight. Maybe it will clear up some of his thoughts. Just when the door began closing, he heard a scream from a distance.
"Please hold it!"
Yoongi, although distracted, followed. He held out his hand between the doors, slowly opening it up again. That's when you showed up, chest heaving, still wearing the same dress Yoongi was thinking about. He squeezed his eyes closed as he turned his head down. The amount of curses he let out in his head.
"Thank you." you tried to say it softly, but you were breathless from running. You push the button to your floor and you notice that he still hasn't clicked his. "What floor?"
"Hmm?"
You turn around and catch him staring at you in a way you've never seen before. You felt your stomach twist. Your eyes moved down to his lips. He was biting too hard, turning the skin red. You watched as he inhaled, lifting his shoulders like he was trying to stay still.
"Same as yours. Twenty-nine," he mumbled.
His voice was too deep, your voice ran dry. You nodded, standing back next to him. Silence hummed for the first few seconds as the door closed. You didn't know that this tension joined you two in this elevator, making the atmosphere heavy and honestly, a little warm. You felt it again. Your lips. They're tingling again.
You can feel that he feels the same way. Your heart starts to beat too fast when you look at him again, still biting down his lip. Hard. Maybe talking would help.
"So, what happened—"
You were not even done with your question about Bea when Yoongi moved forward, crashing his lips on yours. It felt urgent. And hot. Like he was thinking about it for a while now. It was like you broke him.
Your gasp barely made it out of your lips when he swallowed it. He got his one hand on your cheek, while the other was squeezing your waist. His fingers held you down as you squirmed too much.
You don't really have much thought except him. His scent. His lips. His hair. Oh my god, his hair. You ran your fingers on it, tugging on it as you felt the temperature rising in your body. He groaned before pressing you on the elevator wall. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, while your hands explored each others' bodies. Desperation and hunger reeks from the way you two taste each other's tongues.
Wanting to hear him again, you bit on his lower lip. He groaned lowly, feeling the vibration in your chest. You smiled into the kiss. Suddenly, you felt both of his hands on your waist. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the kiss getting gentler.
Your chests were heaving as he pulled away, resting his forehead above yours. You unconsciously licked your lips after seeing how his got redder and glossier due to your own. You noticed his Adam's apple moved up and down, making you meet his eyes.
Ding!
Your heads snapped to the side when the elevator door opened. Yoongi's hands clenched when you slowly stepped back, exiting the elevator wordlessly. He followed behind you while still tasting the strawberry taste of your lipgloss.
Your rooms were right before each other's. Turning your back, you didn't say anything as you opened the door. He didn't either and faced his door, but didn't reached for the key card. The moment he heard your door closed, he turned around.
Fuck it.
Determined, he knocked on your wooden door. And almost in an instant, it opened with you pulling him inside.
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note | thank u for @momma1 for commenting this song months ago! 🩷 please consider as the conclusion for the first leg of this tour. the next drabbles will be set after their "tour break". lmk what u think of this one?
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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 6 months ago
Text
Sweet Summer | Pt. 1
Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader
Summary: The Xavier Institude is being renovated for the summer. With nowhere else to go, your best friends Billy and Tommy offer you to stay with them and their mom. But what happens when feelings start to spark between the two of you?
Word Count: 5.5k
Warnings: Trauma, Eventual Smut (in 2nd part), Age Gap (20yo reader, 37yo Wanda)
Tags: mutant!Reader (shadow manipulation), different timeline, everyone is alive (except Pietro, sorry Pietro), no Sokovia Accords, no Thanos, Wanda was young when she joined the Avengers, retired Natasha, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, but they switch a bit, Vision is a bit of an asshole, divorced!Wanda, mainly cutesy, bit of angst tho
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"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked both of your friends as you stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Summer was here, and with it, Professor X decided to do some renovations to the Institute.
For most of the mutants, it changed nothing since they would go home for the summer, but for you, it meant two months in the streets - well not really since Xavier offered all students who couldn't go home to stay at a hotel with the resident teachers, an uncomfortable solution in your opinion that left you with a bad taste in your mouth, like you needed the charity (which you did) before going off to University. Lucky for you, your two best friends had offered you to stay with them. It took a bit of convincing, a lot of reassuring that it wouldn't bother their mother, but in the end Billy and Tommy managed to have you agree to come with them for the holidays.
"We're absolutely certain, stop worrying that much," Tommy said, speeding around to finish preparing his suitcase at the last minute. He disappeared from the room and Billy softly smiled at you.
"He's right. And mom already agreed. She always wants to meet our friends, so I'm sure she'd be disappointed if you changed your mind."
You wanted to ask him if he was telling you all that just to make you feel better, but you fought it off. It was a nasty habit you had to always feel like you were a burden and a bother. The twins always found a way to reassure you, so you knew better than to question them some more. You gave Billy a nod, and watched as Tommy disappeared from the room and came back a second later with more things to stuff in his suitcase. He threw everything in and closed it after fighting it for a few minutes.
"I'm ready!" He declared proudly in a hero pose. You rolled your eyes and looked at the time on your phone.
"Only ten minutes late, a new record," you teased him. The speedster was somehow always late with everything, which in turn made you and Billy late. It would drive the teachers crazy, since the three of you were a package deal. You had been since you were young mutants just joining the Institute, despite being older than them by two years - you were still in the same level classes as them. This proximity never translated during holidays when they were away, beyond staying in contact with your phones. It took you being forced out to finally agree to go to their place.
"We should go now," the more responsible Billy declared as he started to drag his suitcase after him with his powers. "Mom has been waiting for us."
Anxiousness filled you for a second, but you took a deep breath and you followed the twins. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs, saying goodbye to the other people who were getting ready to leave. There were a few fist bumps and brief hugs as your classmates and teachers warmly returned the goodbyes. It was the last time you were going to see some of them as you were leaving for university at the end of the summer holidays. This left you feeling sad and nostalgic, but also happy that you were progressing in life despite everything that happened to you. Those feelings washed over you as you walked through the doors of the Institute into the sun. A bunch of parents were waiting there to take their kids home. You never got to join them until now, but you watched from afar plenty of time, never daring to step closer and meet your friends' parents.
Today, Ms. Maximoff was alone. A few years ago she divorced her husband and father of her children. It had been hard on Billy and Tommy, but eventually, and with some help from therapy, they got over it. They still saw him regularly, and you were going to meet him when they were going to spend a month at his place, taking you with them. Because there was no way you would spend a month alone with their mother.
The twins spotted her first and waved at her from afar. You turned your head to have a good look at her and almost stopped on the spot when you did. She was gorgeous. Her wavy light brown hair, piercing green eyes, small nose, and lips were working all together to give her this unique charming look. But most of all, her smile was radiant. As you kept looking at her, you missed a step in the stairs and almost fell. Luckily, Tommy got you and straightened you up. You could feel all eyes on you for a brief instant, making you blush profusely but briefly as you kept walking, looking where you were going this time. Only when the twins stopped did you stop too and looked up. And there she was, right in front of you, in a white with sunflowers sundress and an open red hoodie. You couldn't help but gawk again while Billy gave her a hug. Tommy noticed and smiled proudly.
"Never seen an Avenger up close before?" He asked, so sure that it was the reason why, and you weren't about to contradict him.
"No, never." Especially not one so utterly beautiful. You shook your head and got a hold of yourself while Ms. Maximoff was hugging Tommy and finally stepped closer to her to extend your hand. "I'm glad to finally meet you Ms. Maximoff."
You barely had time to get those words out before she took your hand and pulled you in a strong hug. You were immediately overwhelmed by her scent and her warmth. You were paralyzed.
"Thank you for looking over Tommy and Billy. And please, call me Wanda."
"Oh, huh, sure, I can do that," you answered before she let you go, her hands still on your shoulders.
For a moment, your eyes met and you swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks burn up before she let go for good. It was like there was a current going through the air and into your body, something you both shared. Your heart skipped a beat. You took a deep breath.
"Let's get going, put your packs in the trunk of the car."
And just like that, it was as if nothing had happened. To be fair, you probably just imagined the connection going on between you and Wanda, so you tried to ignore the way you felt and simply put your bag in the trunk of the car. It gave you enough time to recover before you slid in the back of the car with Billy, after the twins fought for the place at the front.
There was a lively conversation between the twins and their mom, and music, and as you watched the scenery go by the window you found yourself smiling. That was until you arrived in front of a colonial revival style house in the suburbs. It was painted white, with two stories, and a large balcony on the right. A tree in the front yard hid most of the left side of the house, and the lawn was well kept. You followed everyone inside and a smile graced your lips when you saw how homey the place was. It would have completely relaxed you if not for that gnarly feeling of intruding on the family. It was like vines growing alongside your heart, preparing to crush it at any sign that this was true. That thought was interrupted when Wanda addressed you.
"Y/n? Come, I'll show you to your room." She spoke softly and grabbed you by the wrist to direct you towards the stairs. Her hand was soft and warm, and the simple contact elicited a tingling sensation up your arm. "This is Tommy's room, and here is Billy's. This is the bathroom. Here is my room, and here is yours."
She opened the door to the guest bedroom. It was simple, impersonal, with a king sized bed, a dresser, and a full length mirror. Close to the bed there was a door leading to the big balcony, and you guessed by the way things were in the house that Wanda had that same access. She entered the room and went to the door to the balcony to open it.
"I aired the room a few times in preparation of you coming but it still feels a bit stuffy," she pointed out as she looked outside. You shook your head and put down your bag on the bed, offering your host a smile.
"It's no worries, that room is great!"
"I'm glad you think so." She turned around and looked at you, examining your features for an instant. You tried not to squirm under her gaze, before her next words shocked you to your core. "Are you going out with Tommy?"
Your eyes went big like saucers, you opened your mouth once or twice before finally your shock settled and a laugh came out of you. It quickly grew bigger and bigger until you had tears in your eyes. Wanda frowned in confusion until you calmed down enough to answer her.
"No, we're not… I'm not interested in him like that. Actually I'm not interested in men like that," you confessed. You knew Billy was gay and came out years ago to his parents, so Wanda shouldn't have any trouble with this. There was still some brief silence before she smiled at you.
"Good." Her smile got more mysterious and you tilted your head, unsure of what it meant. You took it as a good sign, that she simply was glad that she didn't have to worry about Tommy dating you. "Okay, I'm going to let you organize your stuff. I have some work this afternoon, so have fun with the boys."
"Thank you. And thank you again for letting me stay."
"They talk so much about you, it's my pleasure to finally get to meet you."
You nodded, and Wanda left the room. You followed her movements with your eyes, looking her up and down before catching yourself.
"She's your best friends' mom, come on," you muttered to yourself before starting to take care of your bag.
*
It had been a week since you arrived at the Maximoff's household, and you had been having fun so far. You enjoyed the pool the most, having fun with Tommy and Billy while Wanda was away most of the time on Avenger business. There had been a few touches between the both of you, a hand on your shoulder while she was passing you, lingering close to you when bringing food on the table. You were sure that you were reading too much into it, but at the same time your heart would skip a beat every time it happened, your skin lighting on fire just by her simple presence. You tried your best to ignore it, of course, and so far it was working. With any chance it was going to pass soon enough and you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the process.
"Hey, Y/n. I just received a message from a childhood friend, he's having a party, you wanna go?"
"Thanks for asking Tommy," Billy said with a roll of his eyes, sitting in an inflatable donut in the pool.
"I already know you'll go, dummy. So, Y/n?"
You laughed at the twins' antiques and approached the edge of the pool. A party would be nice, and it would take you out of the house. Maybe even make you think of something else than Wanda and her mesmerizing green eyes. There were no reasons for you not to go.
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"Great! It's in a week so we should go buy some clothes for it!" Tommy exclaimed before he answered the text from his friend.
"I already have clothes," You groaned before pulling yourself out of the water. It's not that you didn't like getting new clothes, if you were honest, it was that you didn't have the money for it. Something that you had no intention to reveal to your friends.
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
You rolled your eyes, but you knew there was no way out of this. You put your hands up in surrender.
"Alright, alright, we can go all together, you big baby," you smirked as Tommy frowned and put down his phone. He sped at you and pushed you in the water in retaliation, before he jumped in turn to start attacking you. You fought back, ending up climbing on his back like a spider, when Wanda approached the pool with a raised eyebrow. She was wearing a smart casual business outfit. You didn't notice her immediately, not before Billy got to explain what was happening.
"Why don't I come with you? I have an outing soon," Wanda offered as she looked at you and Tommy with an amused grin, now that you noticed her, stopping your playfight. Her eyes were boring into you, waiting for you to answer the question more than anyone else.
"Sure. Yeah, that would be nice." You scratched the back of your neck, a smile on your face as you looked back at her.
The moment was interrupted when Billy's inflatable bumped into you. You all discussed the details and decided to go tomorrow morning, when there would be less people than usual. It meant waking up early, but it wouldn't be a problem for you; you usually slept very little.
*
When morning came, you prepared yourself and went downstairs to surprise everyone with breakfast. You started with eggs and bacon, then pancakes. You were preparing coffee when footsteps came from the stairs.
"It smells delicious," Wanda said before you could even see her. When she finally turned the corner to the kitchen, you smiled at her. She was wearing her hair up in a loose bun, a large gray sweater, and some black sweatpants. Even just in her relaxed state she was gorgeous, and you almost burned a pancake looking at her.
"Thank you. Why don't you sit down and I'll bring you your breakfast." She nodded and went to sit down at the table in the sunroom under the balcony, crossing her arms on it. You prepared a plate and brought it to her.
"What's the occasion?" She asked when you were putting down the plate.
"No occasion, I just want to pull my weight around here." You cleaned the traces of fingers on the plate with a dishcloth while turning the plate properly. "I hope you enjoy it."
"I feel like I'm at one of Tony's fancy brunch."
"Never been to one of those, but it sure sounds like the food would be good."
"It was." For a fraction of a second, her smile turned sad. "It was one of the first things I experienced after coming to the States. I couldn't enjoy the food properly, but having everyone with me… it was special. Especially after…" she cut herself, her eyes lost somewhere away. She came back quickly and turned to you.
"Thank you so much." She put her hand on yours briefly as she thanked you, and your heart skipped a beat. You grinned proudly.
"Of course."
With that you went back to the kitchen, feeling rejuvenated by the simple contact and closer to Wanda after the short conversation, despite being worried about what she decided to hide. You knew you could probably just do some research on her history and come to your own conclusions based on context, but it felt intrusive, so you decided against it. Once you were back behind the stove, Billy then Tommy appeared one after the other, in different states of awakening. With them finally present, you also sat down to enjoy breakfast, then everyone left to go get ready for the day. 
You were quick to arrive at the clothing store and grab whatever caught your fancy. You knew you weren't going to buy anything but it didn't mean you couldn't enjoy trying on nice clothes. There was a leather jacket that caught your attention and you put it on your arm to try it later as you kept going around the store. You looked at some things with Wanda while the boys were in the other section of the store.
"What do you think of this dress?" Wanda asked you as she held a nice black and white garment with a bit of a vintage style in front of herself. You tried to imagine her in it, and if you were honest to yourself you thought she'd probably even look good in a potato bag.
"I think it'd look great!" The woman smiled at you and added it to the small pile of clothes she had collected so far. Now you knew where Tommy's sense of style came from at least.
With that in mind, you joined back with the boys to try on what you had found in the store. Like you, Billy only had a few items, so you went first to try the clothes, putting on a mini show. You really liked the leather jacket, the twins and Wanda complimenting you on it, and you thought for a second that maybe you should buy it. But upon seeing the price again you grimaced and decided to put it with the rest of the clothes you couldn't buy anyway.
After you, Wanda and Tommy started their own mini show of trying their clothes. It was the occasion for you to admire the woman some more without feeling like a creep. You were right in your earlier assessment; Wanda could wear anything and look gorgeous. As both Tommy and Wanda went back into the fitting room, Billy decided to wander back into the store, leaving you alone on the bench where you waited for the rest of the show.
"Billy? Can you come help me with the zipper of my dress?" Wanda called, and you looked around. With your friend gone, you hesitantly approached the fitting room curtain.
"He went back into the store," you simply said to her. A few floating seconds passed.
"Can you help me then?"
You hesitated. On one hand, being in such a small space with her not technically fully dressed seemed like a bad idea for the blooming crush you had on her, and on the other hand, it's not like she was naked or like it was anything more than innocent. In the end, you got a hold of yourself.
"Yes. Yes I can." You entered the fitting room quickly so as to not expose her. There she was, her back turned on you, her back in full view while she was holding the dress up to cover the rest of her body. Your mouth felt dry when you came closer to her.
"I can't catch the zipper, so if you could just…" she trailed off but you understood clearly what she needed.
"Okay, let me just…"
You chased a few strands of hair away from her back to go with the rest, the soft texture burning on your fingers. You noticed a few goosebumps on her skin at this point, and you wanted nothing more than to trace along them on her back. It was easy to imagine the silky skin under your fingertips, the warmth of it against your lips, and the taste between your teeth. There was a dull ache inside of you, like a deep resonance that called to you. But you controlled yourself. With as much delicacy as you could manage, you took the zipper between your fingers and brought it up carefully until it hit the top of the dress.
"There you go," you almost whispered before looking up. Your eyes met in the mirror and you could swear you saw the same hunger as yours deep inside her green irises.
"Thank you," she told you, and you saw her neck bobbed slightly as she swallowed hard. Electricity ran through you and your hand raised, ready to meet hers so you could turn her around and get more than you did the past week.
"Where is everyone?" You heard Tommy ask. You stopped in your tracks, back to reality. After blinking a few times, you took a step back and came out of the fitting room trying to look casual.
"Sorry, I was helping Wanda with something."
She actually came out in turn and showed the dress to Tommy. She looked like nothing had happened - and technically nothing had - but you could still feel the blood filling your ears like the single most important decision of your life had been taken away from you. You contained a sigh and went back to sit while the rest of the time spent in the store flew by.
*
A few days went by, during which you tried to control your growing feelings. You quickly realized it was a futile endeavor the one day Wanda joined you to swim in the morning. Seeing her in her swimming suit, you couldn't help but appreciate the display of skin and how utterly beautiful she looked - leftover traces of pregnancy and all. She caught you looking at her a few times, and without ever missing a beat she smiled at you. It was a simple moment that cemented your attraction to her and whatever else you weren't ready to admit you were feeling. But despite that simple interaction, the peace that came with her small reciprocation didn't last.
You were playing on the PS5 with Billy, while Tommy was outside working on his tan. This day had been slow, until now when Wanda started getting ready for her outing.
"I'm almost ready to leave," Wanda said as she adjusted her long hair over her shoulder, then her carmine dress. She put on her heels and looked herself over in the mirror. "I left you with enough money for whatever you want to order, don't break the house, I'll be back late so be in bed before I come back."
"You hear that Tommy?" Billy relayed.
"No, sorry, the sun is blocking my ears!"
You paused the game and stood up with Billy to see her out when you noticed the luxurious car waiting in front of the house. A man stood up next to it, dressed in a relaxed suit. You frowned slightly as you looked back at Wanda, and it hit you. This 'outing' was definitely a date. Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach.
"Have fun, mom," Billy said as he gave his mother a hug. Meanwhile you stayed standing in the hallway, frozen as every little sign you thought you saw her give to you came to your mind. Had you been imagining it? Your focus came back on Wanda when you felt her gaze on you, very briefly. You took a deep breath to ground yourself.
"I'll see you all tomorrow," she said before she disappeared through the door. Without another word, Billy taped you in the shoulder on his way to the console. It was enough to get you to automatically join him, your mind lost in speculations.
You spent the rest of the evening coming in and out of your thoughts, unable to share them with anyone, even when the conversation veered towards Wanda's date as you were eating your pizza.
"So, what did the guy look like?" Tommy asked his brother, who shrugged.
"He was a bit far so I didn't get to see well enough but he looked okay."
"What about you, Y/n, saw anything?"
You went back to the moment you saw the man in your head, only the feeling of hating the man for no reason. "There was nothing special besides his cool car."
Tommy groaned at your answer, looking at his pizza with distaste.
"You guys suck at gossiping, I swear."
You laughed lightly, and Billy pushed the last slice of pizza towards you as he spoke very wisely.
"Mom doesn't want us to meet the guy, we shouldn't force it. It's only their second date, there is really no reason to push."
You took the pizza slice, listening intently as you ate.
"I just wish she'd date someone fun or something," Tommy pouted.
"You can't think only of yourself." Billy had a point there, and his brother knew it, but it also hit you. You had to consider them in the equation of whatever you were feeling, whether Wanda liked you back or not. You couldn't just keep thirsting over their mom like that. With that new revelation in mind, you all watched a movie and went to bed. 
The shadows around you were your only company, until you heard someone open the door downstairs. By the sounds she made, it had to be Wanda who was trying to be discreet as she was coming up the stairs. You followed her tracks around the house with your hearing, until she was finally in her bedroom. You closed your eyes, thinking she was going to go to bed but instead she opened the door to the balcony and took one of the chairs to sit on it. You frowned slightly, trying to visualize what she was doing but there was no point, you couldn't hear a thing anymore. You stayed in bed some more time until the curiosity was killing you, then you stood up and joined Wanda on the balcony. She was leaning against the railing, back in comfortable clothes, and looking at the sky hanging so far away from her. There was a glass and a bottle of wine sitting next to her. It was clear that she was lost in thoughts and didn't notice you.
"How was your date?" You asked rather bluntly, surprising her. She turned around quickly, wisps of red at her fingertips that vanished when she saw it was only you.
"Why aren't you asleep?" She returned on the defensive, her accent coming through for once. You approached and leaned against the railing like she did earlier.
"I just couldn't find sleep. Your turn now."
Wanda let out a sigh and resumed her position, not looking at you as she answered.
"I don't think I'm going to see him again." That answer made you feel conflicted. Your heart was making jumps and bounds at that, but her voice was so dejected that you couldn't help but feel bad for her. She grabbed her glass of wine and drank a sip. "Honestly I don't even know why I accepted a second date to begin with."
"That bad?" You tried in support to allow her to empty her mind.
"He just loved talking about himself, would try to order in my stead, and he had questionable opinions. To the point where I wondered why he would go on a date with me, a lowly woman with powers." You frowned at that last bit. Clearly the man was an idiot with an inflated ego.
"If he was that bad, why did you give him a second chance?" There was no blame in your voice, just pure curiosity. She took some time before she answered you, drinking a few more sips of wine.
"Part of it is loneliness, I suppose. Another part is…" she trailed off, her head briefly turning to look at you. "It doesn't really matter."
You hummed, half catching on to what she wasn't telling you. That you were part of the equation, even if she hadn't known you for long. But you had had your epiphany that night, so knowing that didn't matter anymore, you couldn't betray the twins.
"Loneliness sure sucks," you simply agreed. You took the glass of wine from her hand to take a sip while looking at her. Even in the dark you could see a small blush on her cheeks. "Makes us do dumb stuff."
"Aren't you a little bit young for that?" She arched an eyebrow at you and you smirked in return.
"I mean… yes," you admitted. "But not by much. Plus, it's not the first time I drink."
You winked at her and took one more sip before you put down the glass. She took it in turn and drank some more, then refilled it. There was peaceful, comfortable silence between the both of you as you shared the glass.
"Can I ask you something?" Wanda finally asked you, turning more towards you with a concerned but curious look. You shrugged slightly.
"Go ahead."
"How come… where…" she fiddled with her fingers and changed the leg she was most leaning against. "Where are your parents?"
You looked at her, no surprise on your face that she would ask that. It made sense after all that she would worry about it considering that you were invading her place for most of the summer. You linked your hands in front of you and looked away.
"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. They're monsters." Memories started to surface as your eyes darkened. Visions of a dark basement and blood, of horrible words and terrible faith. When her hand landed on your shoulder, it took you out of those moments and anchored you to the now.
"I'm sorry," she whispered before her arms linked around you in a tentative hug. Her warmth and smell enveloped you like a reassuring blanket and you found yourself melting against her. Your vision became blurry; a few tears trailed down your cheeks. It took you some time, but eventually you calmed down enough to start enjoying the contact with Wanda.
You took a deep breath as you nudged your face closer to her neck and enjoyed the smell of cinnamon, sandalwood, and wine coming off of her. One of her hands made small circles on your back and you relaxed some more, until you emerged from the embrace and your gazes locked. The iridescent greens of her eyes were dancing under the moonlight like otherworldly flames ready to engulf you in its fire. It would have been so easy in this instant to lean closer and capture her lips, caress her rosy cheeks, and make her yours. And she did lean closer, her eyes fluttering shut, as you yourself started to initiate a kiss. But as you felt her breath on your lips, and could almost taste her supple mouth, a small voice in your head stopped you.
"I… I can't," you said, and she straightened up, looking red in shame.
"Oh. It's… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" she hid her face behind her hand and turned around, her back to you. Your lips formed a line and you took a step back.
"No, it's not you. I just… now… it's not a good time."
"No, you're right. We can't."
"I'm sorry," you said last before you fled to your bedroom, leaving Wanda alone on the balcony.
*
The dark basement had been your home for the last two years. At first, it wasn't that bad. You were in chains, but you got three meals a day and your parents would come and see you, trying to understand what happened, and encourage you to lose your powers somehow. And you tried, but you could always feel them in you, lurking in each shadow that you could see.
Then came the torture. New ways to deprive you of your 'gift from Satan'. First the exorcisms, then the cold of winter, then the electroshocks, then, then, then. One day, they simply didn't show up. No food and no water were brought to you. But no torture either. At first it happened maybe one time a week, they would forget you. It quickly became a habit. Two days a week, three days a week, five days a week. They would make sure you stayed alive, but it was like they had forgotten you. You were getting weaker and weaker, until one day you heard it.
Your doom.
A baby crying upstairs.
And at that moment you could feel in your guts what was their next step, what they needed to do to make sure that baby would be blessed by a life in the light of God. You almost accepted it. You felt so weak, ready to depart that torturous world that had been so unfair to you. So when the steps came down, you did nothing. When you saw the hammer, you did nothing. You laid there like a lamb waiting for slaughter.
He sat down next to you on your makeshift bed and caressed your hair with a tenderness you hadn't known the past two years. He told you it was going to be okay, that your suffering was over. You wanted it to be. Until you saw his smile amidst the tears, the happiness of finally getting rid of you overtaking him. It made you sick. He brought his hammer up. And then there was blood. Not yours, but his, as you held up a dagger made out of shadows. You stabbed him a second time. A third time. Almost went for a fourth but you couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was blurred by your tears and his screams.
She must have heard him, because she came downstairs. You threatened her for the key, and once the chains were down, you ran. You were no lamb. You were alive.
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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago
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Holidays w/ boyfriend Zayne
Random posts on the TL w/ boyfriend Zayne during the holiday season. Dr. Noah makes a quick appearance :)
_thedrzayne
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♥️ liked by misshuntermc, gray.sun, yvannamama and 55k others
_thedrzayne: The weather outside is frightful, but the treats are so delightful
tagged: misshuntermc
comments
yvannamama: @/misshuntermc did you come up with this caption? 🤔
↳ misshuntermc: He actually came up with this by himself ↳ _thedrzayne: Yes I did 😌
_thedrnoah: Please Zayne limit your sweets intake this year
↳ _thedrzayne: My girlfriend told me I can indulge this month ↳ misshuntermc: can you please not get me beat up? 😅
gray.sun: Let me get one
↳ misshuntermc: You should know he devoured these right after the photo ↳ _thedrzayne: They were gone before I uploaded this ↳ yvannamama: Okay big hungry did you taste them?
misshuntermc
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♥️ liked by thedrzayne, yvannamama, talkthat_tara and 78k others
misshuntermc: Step 1: take your man to target with you Step 2: buy him a parfait to keep him happy
tagged: _thedrzayne
comments
_thedrzayne: You know all my weaknesses
↳ misshuntermc: im sure everyone knows how weak you are for sweets
gray.sun: please tell me you’re gonna decorate his office 👀
↳ misshuntermc: You already know 😜 ↳ yvannamama: I want to help !
_thedrzayne: Not my office
↳ misshuntermc: definitely your offfice ↳ gray.sun: Boss has spoken sorry Zayne
liiisa_: Take me with you next time 🥺
↳ talkathat_tara: im sayin ! why is she acting like we don’t love a good target run? 🤨 ↳ simonesays: damn you two are needy as hell (I’m actually hugging my pillow with tears in my eyes does she hate us?) ↳ misshuntermc: Drama Queens fr 🙄
misshuntermc
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♥️ liked by _thedrzayne, _thedrnoah, gray.sun and 92k others
misshuntermc: Chocolate Croissant 🤝Toasted Marshmallows
tagged: _thedrzayne
comments
_thedrzayne: I will happily go into a sugar coma with you
↳ misshuntermc: Im going to stuff you with real food later 😁😁 ↳ _thedrzayne: I knew there was a catch 😒 ↳ misshuntermc: should’ve read the terms and conditions 😚
gray.sun: I know the dentist HATES to see Zayne coming
↳ _thedrzayne: No these chocolate croissants hate to see me coming ↳ yvannamama: @/misshuntermc take his phone please ↳ misshuntermc: He just said it out loud and I think my spine just curled in on itself HELP 😖
misshuntermc
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♥️ liked by yvannamama, simonesays, talkthat_tara and 97k others
misshuntermc: Black diamond for him ; Bunny slopes for me
tagged: _thedrzayne
comments
_thedrzayne: I’ll stay by your side and hold your hands on the bunny slopes
↳ misshuntermc: thank you for taking pity on me ↳ _thedrzayne: you have to start somewhere
liiisa_: No LV goggles this trip?
↳ misshuntermc: No I left them at home so I had to use the Oakleys luckily I had four pairs in the car
talkthat_tara: I hAd tO uSe tHe oAkLeYs talking like those are $20 goggles or something
↳ simonesays: how much are they? ↳ liiisa_: at least $225 ↳ simonesays: these can’t be the same checks….. ↳_thedrzayne: She used my card
276 notes · View notes
slytherinsmuse · 2 months ago
Text
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Domestic Chaos | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader
Warnings: I guess mention of sexual activity and condoms
Summary: Fluff, Comedy | Draco navigates through muggle life with the love of his life.
Word count: 8966
author's note: I am so sorry that this request took so long. But work has been hell before the holidays. Now that I have some time off I managed to finish it. I hope you like it! @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy
The first week of living together with Draco Malfoy had been… an adjustment, to say the least.
You smiled to yourself as you wandered down the stairs of your new house, recalling the mix of chaos and charm that came in the start of sharing a home with Draco. Moving in together had been a big step, one you hadn’t expected to take so soon. But after months of navigating your relationship between your cozy Muggle world and his pristine magical one following your graduation from Hogwarts, it only made sense to create a space that was truly suited for the both of you.
Granted, the transition had been smoother for you than it had been for him.
Draco, for all his poise and pure-blood grace, had little to no experience with Muggle life. Your enchanted house—a quirky blend of his velvet armchairs and your mismatched cozy furniture—reflected that perfectly. It was a home where magical portraits coexisted with photo frames from your favorite vacations, where your television and laptop shared a shelf with his collection of ancient spell books.
It was perfect. Except for the moments where Draco had done his best to interact with Muggle appliances.
The faint sound of muffled clattering pulled you towards your kitchen, curiosity outweighing your desire to get yourself a hot mug of coffee. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you padded down the hall toward the kitchen. As you stepped through the doorway, you froze, your grogginess instantly replaced by disbelief at the sight before you.
The dishwasher, a seemingly harmless Muggle machine, stood wide open. Inside, dishes were arranged in what could only be described as abstract art. Draco stood in front of it with his wand drawn, muttering incantations under his breath. A suspiciously green, bubbling potion had been poured into the detergent slot, and—Merlin help him—a set of silver goblets that were very much not dishwasher-safe glinted proudly from the bottom rack.
“Draco.” you said carefully, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what are you doing?”
He didn’t flinch, though his wand froze mid-air. “Using this infernal contraption you insisted on bringing into our home.” he replied, his tone clipped.
You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. Our home. The words still gave you butterflies.
“This ‘infernal contraption’ is a dishwasher,” you corrected, stepping closer. “It cleans dishes. Without magic. That’s sort of the point.”
Draco huffed, a faint pink tinting his pale cheeks. “Well, it’s doing a poor job of it so far.”
“Probably because you’re trying to curse it into submission.” You peered into the dishwasher, your eyes widening. “Wait. Is that—oh my God, Draco, is that the antique goblet from your mother’s dining set?!”
He glanced at the goblet, then back at you, feigning innocence. “What? It needed cleaning.”
You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s over 200 years old! You can’t just throw it in a dishwasher!”
“Well, I certainly can’t hand wash it,” he said indignantly, crossing his arms. “Do you know how much trouble the preservation charms require? It’s exhausting.”
“Then maybe don’t drink wine out of a priceless artifact?”
“Then maybe don’t serve wine in cheap glass cups,” he shot back, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “It ruins the wine taste…”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, fine. Touché. But seriously, what is this… potion?” You gestured to the green, bubbling mess in the detergent slot.
“It’s a universal cleaning tonic,” he said proudly. “Far superior to whatever chemical nonsense Muggles use.”
“It’s not even liquid! It’s oozing! You can’t put that in a dishwasher!”
Draco frowned, glancing back at the machine as if it had betrayed him. “So what’s the proper way, then?”
You sighed, grabbing the small box of dishwasher tablets from the counter. “Watch and learn, Pure-blood.”
With a sigh you carefully removed the bubbling mess he had poured into the detergent slot. Draco watched with a mix of curiosity and mild indignation as you wiped it clean with a paper towel.
“This,” you said, holding up one of the tablets from the box, “is what you’re supposed to use.”
Draco tilted his head, eyeing the tablet skeptically. “That tiny thing? How could that possibly clean anything?”
“It’s designed for this, Draco. It dissolves in the water and works its magic—well, not literally, but you get the idea.”
You slid the tablet into the designated compartment and snapped the dishwasher closed, pressing the buttons to set the correct cycle. “And this,” you added, pointing to the buttons, “is how you actually start it. No wand required.”
Draco’s expression was unreadable as the machine hummed to life, its rhythmic sounds filling the kitchen. After a moment, he muttered, “It still seems unnecessarily complicated.”
“Complicated? You were about to duel the dishwasher,” you teased, crossing your arms.
Draco smirked, his signature smugness returning. “And I would’ve won.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you leaned against the counter. “You’re hopeless.”
Before you could say more, you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and his breath tickled your neck.
“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice softer now, “but I’m learning, aren’t I?”
You snorted, tilting your head slightly as you felt his lips brush against the curve of your neck in a featherlight kiss. “Barely,” you teased, though your tone lacked the bite to make it convincing.
Draco chuckled, the vibration of it humming against your back. His kisses trailed lazily along the side of your neck, his hands tightening ever so slightly around your waist. Just as you began to melt into his warmth, a sharp, electronic beep shattered the moment.
Draco froze, his lips pausing mid-kiss. “What in Merlin’s name was that?” he asked, his voice tense and laced with suspicion.
You laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “That’s just the washing machine.” you explained, finding his baffled expression entirely too adorable. “It beeps when it’s done with a cycle.”
Draco frowned, glancing over at the machine as if it were an intruder. “Why does it need to announce its accomplishments? It’s not as though I announce every time I complete a task.”
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure about that? Because I distinctly remember you declaring victory the last time you hung up a picture frame.”
Draco scowled, though the faint pink creeping back into his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “That frame was enchanted to repel nails. It was a triumph,” he muttered defensively.
You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Draco,” you said, still grinning, “the Muggle world is going to kill you at this rate.”
He grumbled, tightening his hold around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. “Life is unnecessarily complicated without magic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with indignation. “Why would anyone willingly choose this… process over a simple charm?”
You smirked, tilting your head. “Maybe because some of us didn’t grow up with the luxury of a wand to fix all our problems?”
Draco pulled back slightly to look at you, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “You’re saying you willingly endured this madness? What kind of resilience do Muggles possess that I’ve clearly been deprived of?”
“Patience!”
Draco scoffed, stepping back just enough to look at you. “Patience is for people with time to waste,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.
You rolled your eyes, slipping out of his arms and heading toward the counter. “Come on, your Highness,” you said over your shoulder, pulling open the breadbox. “Let’s see if you’re capable of making toast without burning it.”
Draco followed you with a mock-offended expression. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of operating a toaster,” he declared, though his hesitation as he glanced at the machine suggested otherwise.
“Uh-huh,” you replied, smirking as you slid a couple of slices into the slots. “Here, I’ll start it for you. You can handle buttering them when they’re done. Think you’re up for the challenge?”
Draco leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re underestimating me again, love. I’ll butter the toast so flawlessly you’ll weep.”
You snorted, turning to grab plates from the cabinet. “Sure, let’s call that your triumph of the day.”
As the toaster clicked and the smell of warm bread filled the kitchen, Draco busied himself setting the table—his version of setting the table, which involved summoning everything with a flick of his wand and arranging it with the precision of a dinner party.
“You do realize breakfast doesn’t require formal presentation, right?” you teased, sitting down as he placed a perfectly folded napkin by your plate.
Draco smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Just because it’s breakfast doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be elegant.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he reached for the now-popped toast, applying butter with such deliberate care you half-expected him to use a ruler for even distribution. Shaking your head with a soft smile, you rose from your seat and quietly grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it with fresh coffee from the pot on the counter.
The warm aroma filled the kitchen as you set the pot down and returned to your chair, savoring the first sip in comfortable silence. Across the table, Draco finished buttering the toast and waved his wand casually, sending the coffee pot floating over to his side. It tilted gracefully, pouring a perfectly measured amount of coffee into his mug before settling back in its spot on the counter.
You raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of your cup. “So, pouring coffee is too much effort, but you’ll put on a show buttering toast?”
Draco looked up, his expression far too smug. “Presentation matters, darling. Coffee is utility. Buttering toast is an art.”
You snorted, biting back a laugh as you leaned back in your chair. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and giving you a sly smile, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”
“Debatable,” you shot back, though the way your lips twitched betrayed the truth.
As the two of you ate, the quiet hum of the dishwasher filled the air, mixing with the faint clinking of dishes and the comforting warmth of the morning. You couldn’t help but think that, chaotic as it was, life with Draco had its charm.
Halfway through breakfast, Draco cleared his throat, setting his mug down with a deliberate clink. “By the way,” he said nonchalantly, brushing a nonexistent crumb from his sleeve, “my parents have asked to visit for dinner this evening.”
You froze mid-sip, glancing up at him.“Tonight?” 
This wasn’t the first time Draco had invited his parents over since you’d moved in together, but it never got easier. The Malfoys had made their opinions about his choices abundantly clear. The arguments had been frequent and heated when Draco first announced his decision to move into the Muggle world. Dating mudblood, as Lucius had so delicately put it during one particularly venomous conversation, had been a sore point from the start. The disdain in their voices, though carefully masked in your presence, was never far from the surface. Still, Narcissa had tried to keep things civil, at least outwardly. Her maternal instincts, perhaps, outweighed her prejudices. Lucius, on the other hand, had never fully hidden his disapproval. The sideways glances, the veiled barbs—it all painted a clear picture. They saw your relationship as a deviation, something temporary that would inevitably pass. And yet, they remained fairly cordial in front of you, no doubt for Draco’s sake. Tonight’s visit felt like yet another test, one you were determined to pass—though it always left you walking on eggshells.
Draco nodded, as if this were the most natural announcement in the world. “Yes, tonight. Around seven, I believe.”
You blinked, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “Right,” you murmured, your mind already racing. “I’ll need to go shopping today before the shops close, then.”
Draco frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Shopping? Whatever for?”
“For dinner, Draco,” you replied, standing to gather your plate. “We don’t exactly have a stocked pantry suitable for hosting your parents.”
As you moved toward the sink, he waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just send a house-elf to take care of it.”
You froze, staring at him over your shoulder. “Draco,” you said slowly, turning back toward the table, “We don’t have house-elves.”
He blinked, as though the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “We don’t?”
“No,” you said firmly, placing your hands on your hips. “They don’t exactly come with Muggle homes, you know.”
Draco leaned back in his chair, a look of mild bemusement crossing his face. “Strange. Well, no matter—I’ll ask Father to send a couple over for the day.”
You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You’ll what?”
He shrugged, as if this were a completely reasonable solution. “I’ll write him after breakfast. It’s hardly a problem.”
Your mouth opened, then closed again as you tried to formulate a response. Finally, you shook your head, rubbing your temples. “Draco, we are not borrowing house-elves from your dad.”
“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.
“Because,” you said, sighing as you sat back down, “this is our home. I’m not dragging house-elves into it every time we have guests over. I’ll just go shopping, make a nice meal, and that’s that.”
Draco looked at you as though you’d just suggested cooking dinner over an open flame. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” you replied, sipping your coffee again. “This is how Muggles do things. Welcome to the real world.”
For a moment, Draco looked as though he might argue, but then he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he said, his tone begrudging. “But I’m coming with you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “To the grocery store?”
“Yes, to the grocery store,” he said, his expression a mix of determination and distaste. “If I’m going to endure this… experiment, I might as well see how it works.”
Smiling, you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “Alright then. I’ll go get ready.”
When you returned a short while later, Draco’s gaze immediately fell on the several empty shopping bags you were holding. His brows knitted together in confusion, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply followed your every movement with the intensity of someone trying to solve an unspeakable mystery.
You set the bags by the door and reached for the keys to the house, slipping them into your pocket before pulling on your shoes. Draco’s confusion deepened. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to leave,” you said, nonchalantly tying your laces.
Draco raised a perfectly arched brow. “And how exactly are we planning to get there? Apparition or Floo Powder?”
You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Neither.”
“Neither?” he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief.
“We’re walking,” you said matter-of-factly, straightening up and grabbing the empty bags.
Draco blinked, his expression torn between incredulity and exasperation. “Walking? Why on earth would we walk when we could be there in seconds?”
“Because,” you explained patiently, “the shop is close by, and it would be weird to just appear in the middle of it. Muggles don’t take kindly to people popping out of thin air near the frozen food aisle.”
Draco stared at you as if you’d just suggested climbing a mountain for fun. “This is madness,” he declared.
You laughed, patting his arm as you opened the door. “Consider it part of the full Muggle experience.”
Still grumbling under his breath about the absurdity of it all, Draco stepped outside with you, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he scanned the street. “Walking,” he muttered again, shaking his head. “What will they think of next?”
You only smirked, knowing the real fun was yet to come. Draco laced his fingers with yours as you stepped out into the crisp winter air, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots. He pulled you closer as you walked, his warm breath visible in the cold. The streets were lined with houses adorned with twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, and the occasional snowman standing proudly in a yard.
“I could’ve taken the car,” you said casually, glancing up at him, “but I don’t think you’re ready to experience traffic yet.”
Draco gave you a pointed look, though his lips twitched with faint amusement. “If it’s anything like the stories you’ve told me, I’d rather not risk my sanity—or my temper.”
You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s probably for the best. One honking horn, and you’d be out of there faster than you could say ‘Pure-blood.’”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the bustling scenery around him. The sidewalks were busy with people bundled in coats and scarves, some carrying shopping bags, others chatting cheerfully. There was a warmth to it all—a vibrancy that was so different from the cold, quiet grandeur of the Malfoy Manor.
“For all the stupidity the Muggle world has to offer,” Draco murmured, his voice thoughtful, “I’ll admit… I do enjoy how lively it is.”
You glanced up at him, surprised by the rare vulnerability in his tone. “Lively?”
He nodded, his icy eyes catching the glint of the snow-covered streets. “The manor was… beautiful, I suppose. Grand. But it was so isolated. Mostly empty land, save for the occasional visitor or house-elf passing by. There was nothing like this—” he gestured to the people around you, the soft hum of life that filled the air. “—no life, no… warmth.”
Your heart softened at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Well, you’ve got that now,” you said, smiling up at him. “Even if it comes with grocery shopping and dishwashers.”
Draco smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “It’s a compromise I’m willing to make,” he said, his voice teasing but sincere.
As the two of you continued walking, the snowflakes began to fall again, dusting the streets and your hair in a light layer of white. Draco tightened his hold on your hand, the moment between you quiet and peaceful as the world around you bustled with life.
As you approached the grocery store, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it between your fingers before sliding it into the lock on a row of shopping carts. With a satisfying click, the cart popped free, and you grabbed it, turning to Draco with a smile.
He stared at the cart, then at you, his brow furrowing. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”
You laughed softly, gesturing to the coin slot on the cart. “It’s how you unlock them. You put in a coin, and when you’re done, you get it back.”
Draco’s confusion deepened as he examined the contraption with a critical eye. “Why would you need to pay for a cart? Isn’t that the store’s responsibility? Do you lose the money if you don’t return it?”
“Yes, you only lose the money if you don’t return it.” you explained, suppressing a giggle at his baffled expression. “It’s just a system to make sure people don’t leave the carts all over the parking lot… or steal them”
He tilted his head, considering this. “So, Muggles have to bribe themselves to do the responsible thing?”
“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug, trying not to laugh at the sheer disdain in his voice.
Draco narrowed his eyes at the cart as if it had personally offended him. “What a pitifully inefficient system,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Why not just enchant the carts to return themselves?”
You snorted, wheeling the cart toward the entrance. “Because not everyone has magic, Draco. This works just fine.”
He fell into step beside you, still looking slightly affronted. “I should write to the Ministry. There has to be some sort of international wizarding intervention for this level of absurdity.”
You smirked, patting his arm as you entered the store. “You do that. In the meantime, try not to hex anything while we shop.”
Draco grumbled something under his breath but followed you inside, his sharp gaze taking in the bright fluorescent lights, the neatly stacked shelves, and the bustling crowd. “This is going to be an experience,” he muttered.
“You have no idea,” you replied with a grin, steering the cart toward the produce section.
You wheeled the cart through the store, stopping in the produce aisle to grab fresh herbs and vegetables for the roast dinner. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Draco wander a few steps away, picking up various food items and squinting at the labels like he was deciphering ancient runes. It was adorable, really, but you couldn’t help but focus on your shopping. As you mentally ran through your list, you zigzagged through aisles, tossing essentials into the cart—seasoning, potatoes, stock, bread. Before you knew it, you were in the snacks aisle, debating between crisps and popcorn.
That’s when you realized it. Draco was gone. You glanced around, craning your neck to see if you could spot his silver-blond hair anywhere in the sea of shoppers. Nothing. You sighed, silently praying he hadn’t decided to duel the automatic doors or try to interrogate the self-checkout machine. Just as you picked up a bag of crisps, you heard his unmistakable voice behind you.
“Look at this!” he said, sounding thoroughly impressed.
You turned around, and there he was—holding a bright yellow plastic broom.
“They have brooms here!” he said, turning it over in his hands as if he’d stumbled upon the latest innovation in flying technology. “Never seen one like this… must be a new model.”
You froze, staring at him, your lips twitching as you struggled to keep it together. “A new model?” you repeated, barely managing to suppress a laugh.
Draco nodded, completely serious. “It’s so lightweight. And this handle… not wood, but some kind of sturdy Muggle material. I’ve no idea where the charms are hidden, though.” He ran his fingers along the bristles, frowning slightly. “Odd design, but maybe it improves aerodynamics?”
You pressed a hand to your mouth, fighting to keep your laughter under control. “Draco… that’s not… it’s not a flying broom.”
He blinked, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. “What do you mean? It’s a broom. What else could it be used for?”
“It’s for cleaning,” you managed, your voice trembling with suppressed laughter. “Muggles use it to sweep floors.”
Draco stared at the broom, then at you, then back at the broom. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” you said, finally letting out a small giggle. “That’s about as far from a flying broom as you can get.”
Draco’s face twisted into a mixture of horror and disappointment as he looked at the broom again. “They’ve completely ruined it,” he declared, setting it back on the shelf with a level of disdain usually reserved for cursed objects. “What’s the point of a broom that doesn’t fly?”
You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, earning a few amused glances from other shoppers. “Oh, Draco,” you said between giggles, grabbing his arm. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of what we need before you find something else to ‘improve.’”
You couldn’t stop grinning as you watched Draco hover near the cleaning aisle, his gaze fixed on a row of mops. He tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he gingerly poked at the mop’s sponge end.
“What’s this for?” he asked, holding it up like it was a weapon he needed to disarm.
You chuckled, wheeling the cart closer. “That’s a mop. Muggles use it to clean floors—specifically, to scrub them when they’re wet or dirty.”
Draco’s lips parted in disbelief, and he blinked at you as if you’d just told him people used quills to sew fabric. “You’re telling me… they manually drag this thing around on the floor instead of just casting a Scouring Charm?”
“Pretty much,” you replied with a shrug, struggling to keep a straight face.
He shook his head slowly, muttering under his breath, “Primitive. Absolutely primitive.”
After returning the mop to its place like it had personally offended him, he stuck closer to your side for the rest of the trip, steering the shopping cart with surprising enthusiasm. At first, he pushed it tentatively, testing its movement, but before long, he was zipping down the aisles like a child with a new toy.
“Draco,” you called after him, trying not to laugh as he gave the cart a small push and watched it glide forward. “It’s not a racing broom.”
“Of course not,” he said, smirking but not stopping. “It’s much slower.”
Despite his antics, he peppered you with questions as you continued shopping, picking up random items and holding them out for inspection.
“And this?” he asked, holding up a box of instant pudding mix.
“It’s dessert. You mix it with milk, and it thickens into pudding.”
He frowned. “No wand required?”
“No wand required,” you confirmed, tossing the box into the cart.
He sighed dramatically, moving on to the next item. “And this?”
“A tin opener. It opens cans.”
Draco’s expression fell further. “What’s wrong with an Opening Charm?”
“Not everyone has one, Draco,” you said patiently, biting back a laugh as his disappointment deepened.
Item after item, his curiosity turned into sheer disillusionment. “Muggles really have to work this hard for everything, don’t they?” he muttered, picking up a manual whisk and giving it a dubious glance.
You smirked, taking it from him and placing it in the cart. “It’s not all bad. You’re surviving, aren’t you?”
“Barely,” he replied, pushing the cart forward with a little more flair than necessary.
By the time you made it to the checkout line, Draco had perfected his ‘long-suffering Pure-blood enduring the trials of the Muggle world’ expression, but you couldn’t help but notice the occasional glint of fascination in his eyes as he took in the bustling store around him. You were focused on unloading the cart, placing items neatly onto the till conveyor belt while Draco hovered a safe distance away from the machine. His cautious glances at the moving belt made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t alive. Out of nowhere, he called your name, and you turned just in time for him to shove a small box into your face.
“What is this then?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.
You froze, your eyes widening as you recognized the box of condoms he was holding with an almost clinical detachment. Your face turned scarlet in an instant.
“Draco!” you hissed, snatching the box from his hand and glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.
“What?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “What are they for? Some kind of… candy perhaps?”
You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words without alerting the nearby cashier or the couple in line behind you. Pulling Draco closer by the sleeve of his coat, you whispered urgently, “They’re… for, um, protection. During, uh, intimate moments.”
Draco’s brows furrowed, his confusion only deepening. “Protection? From what? Are Muggles frequently attacked during—oh.”
The realization dawned on his face, his pale cheeks tinging pink as he took a slight step back. He cleared his throat, glancing at the box still in your hand. “I see. That’s… efficient, I suppose.”
You groaned, pressing a hand to your burning face. “Can we please not discuss this here?”
Draco, however, seemed more intrigued than embarrassed now. “Do they… work reliably? Or—how do you even put it on?”
“Draco!” you hissed again, cutting him off as you stuffed the box back onto the shelf behind you.
He smirked at your reaction, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You’re blushing, darling. It’s adorable.”
“Because you just asked about condoms in the middle of a grocery store,” you muttered, turning back to continue unloading the cart, your face still burning.
Draco chuckled softly, clearly finding your embarrassment far too amusing. He stayed quiet for a moment, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him lingering by the shelf where he’d found the box. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined the options: strawberry, ribbed, ultra-thin. Before you could say anything, he plucked one off the shelf and, with exaggerated caution, tossed it onto the conveyor belt from a distance, as if it might attack him.
You blinked at him, your confusion only growing as you stared at the box sitting innocently amidst the rest of your groceries. “Draco… what are you doing?”
He avoided your gaze, suddenly very interested in straightening his coat. “What? I want to try them,” he mumbled, his voice almost innocent.
You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you leaned closer to whisper, “Draco, you do realize these aren’t, like, some kind of Muggle novelty item, right?”
He finally glanced at you, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. “I’m perfectly aware,” he said, straightening his posture. “I just… want to see what all the fuss is about.”
You covered your face with your hand, torn between exasperation and laughter. “You are unbelievable.”
The cashier began scanning the items, and Draco, determined to prove himself useful, did his best to place them into the bags you had handed him. His movements were deliberate and almost comically precise, as if packing groceries was a skill to be mastered.
You watched with quiet amusement as he gingerly placed eggs into a bag, his face a mask of concentration. He only paused when the cashier announced the total and you pulled out a card to pay.
Draco’s eyes widened, his gaze darting between you and the small machine where you inserted the card. “That’s how you pay?” he murmured, half to himself.
“Yup,” you replied, suppressing a grin as the machine beeped, signaling the transaction was complete.
But what truly left him speechless was the receipt. The small slip of paper emerged from a hidden compartment with a faint whirring sound, and Draco stepped back slightly, his brow furrowing in suspicion.
“What now?” you asked, noticing his confusion.
He pointed at the receipt, his voice low and serious. “Is it enchanted?”
You chuckled, taking the receipt and tucking it into your pocket. “No, Draco, it’s just a record of what we bought. No magic involved.”
He said nothing, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.
Once outside, with the shopping bags evenly distributed between you, Draco slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked through the snowy streets. His grip was firm and grounding, but his face was set in a deep, pensive frown. You glanced up at him, his furrowed brows and slightly parted lips betraying the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Deciding not to interrupt, you pressed yourself closer to his side, letting your head rest lightly against the side of his chest. The walk home was quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your boots. Draco remained silent, processing the bizarre journey into Muggle life. You didn’t push him, knowing he’d speak when he was ready—or maybe not at all. By the time you reached your house, his frown had softened, though his eyes still had a far-off look. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Next time,” he said as he set the bags down, his tone a mix of humor and resignation, “I’ll handle the receipt.”
You busied yourself in the kitchen, determined to make a flawless roast dinner for Draco’s parents. You knew they weren’t particularly fond of you or the fact that Draco was immersing himself in the Muggle world. Still, you were set on showing them that you belonged in Draco’s life, no matter how many raised eyebrows they threw your way. Draco leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you work. His silver hair caught the warm light of the kitchen, and though his expression remained neutral, you could tell he was intrigued. You chopped, seasoned, and kneaded everything by hand, and it was clear he wasn’t used to such a process.
“You really do all of this without magic?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“Yup,” you replied, sprinkling some herbs over the potatoes. “From scratch. It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”
Draco hummed in response, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. The quiet shuffling of aluminum caught your attention, and you glanced over your shoulder.
What you saw nearly made you drop the salt shaker.
Draco stood there holding an unpackaged, rolled-up condom in his hands, a deep frown etched on his face. He was holding it between his fingers like it was a particularly slimy slug, his lips curling in disgust.
You bit back a laugh, trying to focus on the potatoes as you replied casually, “You have to unroll it.”
“Aha,” Draco mumbled, clearly no less confused, as he turned and disappeared into the other room.
You shook your head, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. For a moment, the kitchen was quiet again, save for the sound of the roast sizzling in the oven. Then came muffled grumbles from the other room.
It didn’t take long for Draco to reappear, still holding the condom. His face was a mix of defeat and lingering disgust as he held it up. “I have no idea how this thing works,” he admitted, his voice low. “And why does it feel so… disgustingly slimy?”
You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, clutching the counter for support as tears sprang to your eyes. “Oh my God, Draco,” you managed between fits of laughter.
He scowled, tossing the condom onto the counter as if washing his hands of the whole ordeal. “It’s not funny!”
“It is!” you replied, wiping at your eyes. “You look like you’ve been wrestling with it!”
Draco sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t understand how Muggles deal with this nonsense. Magical contraceptives are far less… revolting.” He glanced down at the discarded condom with a look of pure disdain. “It couldn’t even go on.”
You bit your lip, barely holding back your laughter as you stepped closer to him. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently, guiding his attention back to you. His silver eyes softened slightly, his frown easing as you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips lingering against his just long enough to distract him from his frustration.
When you pulled back, your voice was low, your tone teasing. “You need to be… excited for it to work, Draco.”
Draco blinked, his cheeks immediately flushing a soft pink. He straightened, his usual composure cracking for a brief moment as he processed your words. “Excited?” he echoed, his voice slightly higher than usual.
You grinned, brushing past him to check on the roast in the oven. “That’s right,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just sent his mind spinning.
Draco stood frozen for a moment, glancing back at the discarded condom as if it had betrayed him yet again. Then, he turned to you, his voice laced with indignation. “You could have told me that earlier instead of letting me wrestle with it like some kind of fool!”
You laughed, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Draco huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter once more, his pink cheeks still betraying him. “Muggles,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.
“Alright, Malfoy” you teased, brushing your hands off on a towel. “Go set the table before your parents get here, and I promise no more surprises. For now.”
Draco gave you a mock glare before turning to do as you asked, his mutterings about Muggle nonsense fading as he left the kitchen. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you returned to your cooking. Living with Draco was chaotic, but moments like this reminded you just how much you loved having him in your world—even if he’d never quite understand all of it.
The table was set perfectly, as if Draco had spent as much time arranging it as you had cooking. You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your clothes as the knock on the door echoed through the flat. Draco opened it with his usual composed grace, greeting his parents with a stiff nod.
Narcissa stepped inside first, her expression polite but guarded as she glanced around the house. “Draco,” she said softly, pulling him into a quick hug. Her gaze flicked to you, and she offered a small, tight smile. “Y/N.”
“Mrs. Malfoy,” you greeted, doing your best to keep your voice steady.
Lucius followed behind her, his sharp features betraying nothing but disdain as he surveyed his surroundings. He inclined his head slightly toward you, though his lips never moved to form a greeting. It was clear that he was only here under duress, likely at Narcissa’s insistence.
“Do come in,” Draco said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the dining room.
As everyone settled at the table, the tension was palpable. Narcissa sat with perfect posture, her delicate hands folded neatly in her lap, while Lucius sat rigid, his cane resting against the table. His icy gaze swept the room, his disdain evident in every furrow of his brow.
Draco, however, seemed unbothered. He stood proudly, bringing out the food you had spent all afternoon preparing. He set the dishes on the table with a flourish, clearing his throat. “Dinner is served,” he announced, his voice filled with pride. “And before you ask—yes, it was cooked entirely without magic or the help of house-elves.”
Narcissa’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of genuine surprise in her eyes. “Really?” she asked, glancing at the dishes. “That’s quite impressive.”
Lucius, on the other hand, let out a scoff, his lips curling into a faint sneer. “Why anyone would willingly endure such a process is beyond me,” he muttered, earning a sharp glance from his wife.
You bit your tongue, focusing on serving the food as Draco sat down beside you, clearly unfazed by his father’s comment. The meal began in awkward silence, the only sounds coming from the clinking of cutlery and the occasional scrape of a chair.
Finally, Narcissa broke the quiet, turning to her son with a warm, curious smile. “So, Draco, what did you do today?”
Draco sat up straighter, his face lighting up as he launched into an enthusiastic recount of the grocery store trip. “We went to this… Muggle establishment,” he began, his voice carrying a mix of awe and incredulity. “You wouldn’t believe it, Mother. Rows upon rows of food and supplies, all sorted into sections. It was fascinating.”
Narcissa listened intently, her eyes softening as he spoke. “That does sound rather intriguing,” she said, her tone genuine.
Draco continued, describing the shopping cart, the conveyor belt, and the curious beeping machine at the till. “And did you know they have these tiny coins you put into the carts to unlock them?” he added, gesturing animatedly.
Lucius let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Draco’s enthusiasm was physically painful. “I fail to see the appeal,” he muttered under his breath, casting a glance toward the window as though contemplating apparating away.
You stifled a laugh, watching the stark contrast between Draco’s animated storytelling, Narcissa’s interest, and Lucius’s clear misery.
“I even packed the bags,” Draco added proudly. “It’s a ridiculous system, but I managed.”
Narcissa smiled warmly, her pride evident. “I’m glad to see you adapting so well, Draco. It’s important to understand how others live, even if it’s different from what we’re used to.”
Lucius muttered something unintelligible, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane.
Draco turned to you, his eyes bright with satisfaction. “See, love? Mother appreciates it.”
You smiled back, your heart warming at his excitement. “She does,” you said softly, glancing at Narcissa, who nodded in agreement.
Lucius, however, simply sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Let us hope this… experiment of yours doesn’t last too long,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.
Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his composure, reaching for your hand under the table. His fingers squeezed yours briefly, a silent reassurance that he didn’t care what his father thought. The rest of the meal continued with a mix of awkward small talk and Draco’s detailed observations of the Muggle world. Though Lucius remained unimpressed, Narcissa’s quiet encouragement made the effort feel worthwhile. As the conversation wound down and the plates were nearly cleared, Draco suddenly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. His sharp blue eyes glimmered with something unreadable, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I have something to show you,” he muttered, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief.
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What is it?” you asked cautiously, your brow furrowing as you tried to guess what he could possibly be up to now.
Draco stood up, strolling out of the dining room with the air of someone retrieving an important artifact. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged puzzled glances, while you felt a flicker of dread creeping up your spine. He returned a moment later, holding a familiar box in his hand.
Your heart sank as your face turned beet red. No. No, no, no, no.
He placed the box of condoms on the table, directly in front of you, and tilted his head with a curious smirk. “You never explained properly,” he said smoothly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed his nonchalant demeanor. “I think it’s time I fully understood how they work.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
Lucius froze mid-sip of his wine, his expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. Narcissa’s lips parted slightly as her eyes darted between the box and her son. Meanwhile, you felt your soul leaving your body as your entire face burned hotter than the roast in the oven earlier.
“Draco,” you hissed, your voice a mix of mortification and desperation. “Not now.”
“Why not?” he asked innocently, his smirk widening as he clearly enjoyed your discomfort. “You said it was important to understand Muggle things if I am living here.”
Narcissa cleared her throat delicately, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Draco, darling, perhaps this is a… conversation better suited for another time,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with amusement.
Lucius, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to sink into the ground. “For Salazar’s sake, Draco!” he snapped, his pale face turning an uncharacteristic shade of red. “Have you lost all sense of decorum?”
Draco shrugged, unbothered. “I was merely curious, Father. Isn’t that what this move is about—understanding?”
You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m going to die,” you muttered under your breath.
Draco leaned closer to you, his smirk softening into something almost endearing. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said quietly. “It’s just a box. Besides, you’re the one who said they’re important.”
“Not during dinner with your parents!” you shot back in a harsh whisper.
Narcissa stood gracefully, reaching for her wine glass and glancing at Lucius, who was visibly seething. “Perhaps we should take a moment to admire the décor in the living room,” she suggested, her tone light but firm. “Give them a moment to… collect themselves.”
Lucius rose quickly, eager to escape the situation, and followed her out without another word.
As soon as they were out of earshot, you turned to Draco, glaring at him through your lingering embarrassment. “What is wrong with you?”
He grinned, his pale cheeks still faintly pink. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Draco,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. But despite your mortification, a reluctant laugh bubbled up, escaping your lips.
Draco chuckled softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Hey,” he said, his voice laced with mischief. “It looks like my parents knew exactly what the box contained.”
You groaned louder, shaking your head as you peeked at him from between your fingers. “Why are you like this?”
“Because it’s more fun than I had ever experienced in my life,” he replied, smirking. “And because your reactions are priceless.”
You swatted his arm lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing again. “You’re going to pay for this later.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Draco said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly smug expression.
You shook your head, standing to start clearing the table. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth twitched despite your best efforts to remain stern.
Draco stood as well, grabbing a plate and following you to the kitchen. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother look that impressed. You’re winning her over, you know.”
You glanced at him, your irritation melting a little as you caught the sincerity in his eyes. “Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But your dad looks like he’s ready to disown you.”
Draco shrugged, setting the plate down on the counter. “He’ll survive. I’d say this visit is going better than expected.”
You arched an eyebrow, gesturing toward the box still sitting on the table. “Even with that little stunt?”
He smirked, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Especially because of that,” he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you turned back to the dishes. Life with Draco was unpredictable, embarrassing, and absolutely worth it.
After a while, with the kitchen cleaned and dessert plates neatly arranged, you rejoined Draco’s parents in the living room. You placed the cake and a small pot of tea on the coffee table, smiling as Narcissa complimented the presentation. “It looks lovely, dear,” she said warmly, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the first bite. “And delicious.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief at her approval.
Meanwhile, Draco stood by the TV, flicking it on with the remote. The screen lit up, filling the room with sound and color. He had been obsessed with it ever since the two of you moved in, constantly exploring its features and marveling at the variety of channels.
“And this,” he began, gesturing to the screen, “is called a television. It’s a Muggle device that streams moving pictures and sound. There are different stations—some show plays or sports, others music or news.”
Lucius, who had been seated stiffly on the sofa, cast the TV a disinterested glance at first. But as Draco flipped through the channels, his gaze lingered, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.
Draco settled on a music channel, where a pop song played over vibrant, fast-moving visuals. Lucius leaned forward slightly, his cane forgotten at his side as his eyes remained glued to the screen.
Narcissa, meanwhile, sipped her tea and turned to you with a soft smile. “The cake is truly wonderful, Y/N. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at Lucius, whose face was now bathed in the colorful glow of the TV. Draco was explaining the concept of music videos, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride.
“And these stations,” Draco said, pointing to the remote, “play music continuously. The visuals match the songs—like this one, see?”
Lucius didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were analyzing every detail. Eventually, he gave a slow nod. “Remarkable,” he muttered under his breath, clearly fascinated despite his obvious disdain for anything muggle.
Narcissa glanced at him with a knowing smile but said nothing, letting her husband enjoy his unexpected discovery.
After a while, Narcissa stood gracefully, placing her empty teacup on the table and smoothing the fabric of her elegant robe. “It’s getting late,” she said gently, her tone warm but firm. “We should be heading home.”
Lucius didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on the television, where a lively music video was playing. His normally composed expression was slightly softened, his eyes darting between the screen and the remote in Draco’s hand.
“Lucius,” Narcissa prompted, her voice holding a hint of exasperation. “It’s time to go.”
He finally tore his gaze away from the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yes, yes, in a moment,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as if he needed just a little more time to understand the contraption.
Draco smirked, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “I think he likes it,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with amusement.
Narcissa gave you a knowing glance, her lips twitching into a faint smile before turning back to her husband. “Lucius,” she said again, a bit more firmly this time, “we’re leaving. Now.”
Lucius sighed dramatically, rising from the sofa but casting the TV one last, reluctant glance. “I suppose,” he said, his voice tinged with regret, “we can continue exploring this… device another time.”
You exchanged goodbyes at the door, Narcissa giving you a soft pat on the arm and a smile that felt almost maternal. Lucius remained as formal as ever, though there was an unusual glint in his eye as he glanced at the living room one last time.
As the two of them stepped outside, you lingered by the door with Draco. The crisp night air carried the faint sound of their voices as they walked toward the apparition point.
“You know,” Lucius muttered to Narcissa, his voice carrying just enough for you to catch, “we should consider getting one of those televisions for the manor.”
Narcissa’s laugh was soft but unmistakable. “I’ll make the arrangements,” she replied, her tone indulgent.
Draco closed the door, leaning against it with a triumphant smirk. “See?” he said, turning to you. “It wasn’t so bad.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you just converted your father into a TV enthusiast.”
“Not bad for one evening,” Draco said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Though I’d say the real victory was your cake. Well done, love.”
You smiled, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss. “Thanks, but I think your TV demonstration might’ve been the real winner tonight.”
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course. I am rather persuasive.”
Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned off the living room lights—a concept Draco still found mildly perplexing. He mumbled something about how inconvenient switches were compared to a simple wand flick as you guided him upstairs to your bedroom.
By the time you finished washing up and changed into your pajamas, Draco was already tucked under the covers. The glow from his nightlight—a softly enchanted orb you’d insisted on for his comfort—bathed the room in a warm, golden hue.
You paused at the vanity, applying cream to your face while sneaking a glance at him through the mirror. He was sitting upright, his brow furrowed as he read the label on the back of the box of condoms. His lips moved faintly as if he were trying to work out some sort of  instructions.
Biting back a laugh, you shook your head and turned off the main lights, leaving only the dim glow of his nightlight. Crawling into bed beside him, you couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Still trying to figure that out?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow.
Draco looked over at you, holding up the box with a faint smirk. “The instructions are absurdly detailed for something so… basic.”
You chuckled, resting your head on the pillow. “I’m not sure what you expected. Magic?”
“Honestly, yes,” he replied, setting the box on the nightstand and settling under the covers. “Everything’s unnecessarily complicated without it.”
You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, if it gets too overwhelming, just remember—I’m here to guide you through it.”
Draco turned to you, his smirk softening into something warmer. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb lightly over your hand before pulling you closer.
As the nightlight cast its soft glow over the room, you snuggled into his side, grateful for the quiet comfort of the moment. Life with Malfoy was a whirlwind, but here, in the stillness of your shared space, everything felt just right. Draco was silent for a while, though you could feel him thinking, his body slightly tense beneath yours. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft and hesitant. “Could you show me how to use them? Tonight?”
You lifted your head to look at him, his silver eyes meeting yours, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to reassure him. When you pulled back, you smiled gently, your voice a quiet whisper.
“Of course.”
The room fell into a quiet calm, the only sounds the faint rustle of the sheets as you moved closer to him. Draco’s arms wrapped around you, his touch steady and warm. Life in the muggle world had turned out to be far more surprising than Draco had ever expected. It wasn’t as grand or as effortless as the magical life he’d always known, but there was something about it—something real, unpolished, and oddly comforting.
Though, as he discovered later that night, the condoms were nothing special after all.
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moonysweetheart · 2 months ago
Text
Something happens and I'm head over heels
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summary: James suddenly realised he likes Yn, but will his clumsiness allow him to confess? ☆⋆ MASTERLIST ☆⋆
pairing: james potter x fem!reader
word count: 1,073
warnings: none :)
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“Padfoot! Moony! Wormtail! Reunion! Emergency reunion!!!” James bellowed as he stormed into the Great Hall, grabbing Peter and Sirius by the backs of their collars and dragging them along.
A few students glanced their way, mildly curious, but most quickly lost interest. It wasn’t exactly unusual for James to burst in yelling, nor was it the first time he’d called an “emergency reunion” in front of everyone. The last time it happened, Remus had teased him mercilessly—with Marlene and Lily enthusiastically joining in—for summoning them to help him choose a decent pair of swim trunks because Yn was joining his family on holiday.
“And what’s so urgent now, James?” asked Remus, his voice calm but tinged with sarcasm.
“I can’t talk here, Moony,” James said in a hushed but intense tone. “Someone might hear, and then they’ll tell her before I do!”
“Could you please let go, James? You’re suffocating me,” Peter wheezed, coughing for dramatic effect. James muttered a quick “Sorry,” releasing both Peter and Sirius, though the latter shot him an exasperated glare.
“You need to get a grip, Prongs,” Sirius said, smoothing out his shirt. “You look like a madman half the time.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just get to the dormitory,” James insisted, his eyes wide and urgent. “I’ve discovered something. Something really, really important. And I need your help.”
The three boys exchanged glances, a silent but mutual question passing between them: What now?
“Okay, spill it, Prongs. What’s all this about?” Sirius asked, folding his arms.
The group exchanged glances. James was running his hands through his hair like a madman, sporting a desperate yet ridiculously happy grin. He glanced around the room conspiratorially before leaning in to whisper.
“I think—no, wait—I know,” he grinned wider. “I love Yn.”
His smile practically split his face.
“Didn’t you skip a few steps there?” Peter asked, amused. “Like, you like her, you start dating, and then you fall in love. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
“Apparently not,” Remus cut in, smirking. “James is trying to be the new Romeo. Who knows? Maybe the new Werther—completely desperate and lovesick.”
“Who’s Romeo?” the other three asked in unison.
“And what the hell is a Veader, Moony?” Sirius added, looking both puzzled and offended.
“Forget it,” Remus sighed. “I keep forgetting you lot barely read magical books, let alone Muggle ones. Anyway, carry on, James.”
“I already told you!” James exclaimed.
“What do you need us for?” Sirius asked, raising a brow.
“Yeah, mate,” Peter chimed in. “You’re the one who has to tell her how you feel. We can’t do that for you.”
“I know that,” James said, exasperated. “But I need you guys to handle the girls. Distract them so I can get some alone time with Yn. My mum says women like sentimental men. I want to plan something special…”
Thud, thud, thud.
A knock on the door made them all freeze.
“James, are you in there?”
The boys exchanged wide-eyed looks. Remus clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh at James’s utterly panicked expression.
“It’s Yn,” James whispered. The boys all nodded, smirking at his antics.
“Yeah, James, it’s me,” Yn called from the other side of the door. “Can you open up? I need to talk to you—you mixed up our Potions assignments today!”
James looked helplessly at his friends, who gestured for him to get on with it.
“Hi, Yn,” James said, his usual confidence wavering. The words I love you, please date me teetered on the edge of his tongue, but he bit down, tasting a faint hint of iron.
“Hi, James,” she replied with a warm smile, stepping into the room. “Hi, boys!”
“Hi, Yn!” they chorused, suddenly very interested in the ceiling, walls, and floor. Yn grinned at their obvious attempt to avoid eye contact.
James frantically gestured for them to leave, but his “subtlety” was anything but. Before they could escape entirely, Yn stopped them.
“Come on, guys, there’s no point. You can stay.” She shot James an amused look, then turned back to the group.
“Your friend here,” she began, her tone teasing, “mixed up our Potions assignments. We’re supposed to analyze and annotate our Amortentia samples by tomorrow.”
Everyone except Yn looked utterly baffled.
“You know what James did?” she continued. “After class, he grabbed my cauldron instead of his. I ended up with his potion.” She walked over to James’s desk, opened his cauldron, and lifted the lid.
“Now, James,” she said, her voice almost playful, “tell me—what do you smell?”
Remus caught on first, his grin spreading as realization hit him.
“I… I…” James stammered, his brain stalling.
“It’s your scent,” Yn said, her voice softening. “Mixed with new books, cinnamon rolls, and lavender.”
The words hit him like a Bludger. The air seemed to stop.
“And your Amortentia?” she continued, her smile growing. “It smells like the beach, mint, apple pie… and my scent.”
She leaned in slightly, her grin now unmistakably smug.
“I like you too, James. A lot.”
For a moment, he was frozen, his brain struggling to catch up. The boys stared, equally stunned. Then, a grin began to spread across James’s face.
“Speak, Prongs!” Sirius shouted.
“Oh my gosh, Yn, I fucking adore you!” James exclaimed, scooping her up and spinning her around. When he set her down, his hands cupped her cheeks.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Of course I will,” she said, laughing.
“I love you!” He kissed her cheek. “I love you, I love you!” He kissed her temple, her nose, peppering her face with kisses.
“Merlin, Yn, why did it take me so long to figure this out?”
“I think we were both afraid of ruining our friendship,” she said nuzzling on his neck and smiling warmly. “And maybe a bit stubborn.”
“Good thing I’ve got a smart girl to guide me. My girlfriend.”
“My boyfriend,” she replied, her grin matching his.
From downstairs, Peter’s voice rang out. “You guys want anything from the kitchen?”
“No!” James shouted back, then leaned in to whisper, “I’m spending the afternoon with my girl. Just us.”
“You’re so cheesy,” Yn giggled.
“You’ll get used to it,” he replied, his smile softening before he kissed her again.
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Hi! Here’s a quick story that popped into my head today. Hope you lot have enjoyed.
If you want to be on my taglist, please let me know!
Bye!!
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
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frannyzooey · 14 days ago
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Happy V Day I hope Joel and Honey are having lovely slow and/or nasty sex after they put the kids to bed ❤️
Okay, this is late, but....yes
Yes they are 😌
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Short Days, Long Nights Universe
You surprised him with something fancy.
Something you had to trade for, which already gave the scrap of fabric more meaning, but you would have gladly traded a million things in your little house just to have him look at you the way he does when you undo your robe.
The novelty of celebrating something like Valentine's Day isn't lost on either of you. A small, throw away holiday, meant for the consumer times of before. Bouquets of fancy flowers, boxes of chocolate with satin bows, expensive dinners, jewelry, gifts.
The fact that you're alive and well is enough to celebrate, but then you throw in the impossible idea of finding the love of your life? Of actually having a family? Of being able to raise them in a safe community, where you can shower your love on them every single day without the harsh threat of the outside world taking it all away?
That's what Valentine's Day is now. Something that has more meaning than it used to, because it means you're alive and you get the luxury of celebrating it.
Well - it's about that, and this.
The slow crawl onto the bed, towards his broad frame.
The straddle on his thick lap, the richness of his eyes in the lamplight.
The delicate way his rough fingers catch on the lace cups, and the slow drag of them downwards.
Not before he has a taste through the transparent fabric, though. Not before his mouth finds each peaked bud and his hands find the weight of your breasts and his groan rumbles across your sensitive skin when he latches onto each one in turn until the thin lace is soaked.
Not before he sits there in his lean against the headboard and just looks, with so much love and reverence and lust in his eyes that it pierces your tender heart and makes you want to cry.
You start by sinking down on his lap just to watch the way his mouth drops open, and end with his hand over your mouth as he fucks into you from above and though it's late and the kids will wake up early in the morning, you doze until it's time for round two, this time starting with his face buried between your legs and ending with you on all fours as he pounds into you from behind. His hands tug on the lace, he clenches it in his fists, savors the way the silk is warm with your body heat until he can't take it anymore and lifts it carefully off your body so he doesn't rip it with how hard he's going to fuck you.
The evening (or early morning) ends with him curled around you, and when the kids wake up, he decides to extend Valentine's Day for you by letting you sleep while he pads out of the bedroom as quietly as he can; the kids chattering their good mornings, his mind still stuck in the night before. ❤️
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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cw: mentions of food, smut - minors do not interact
Author's Note: This is a super silly nanami drabble, don't mind me! just coping the best way I know how - with smut LOL. MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune.
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Nanami always craves dessert whenever you do. 
You’re staying with his family this year for the holidays, sleeping in the guest bedroom downstairs. In the middle of the night, you wake up, craving that extra slice of pie your in-laws saved for you, hiding like buried treasure in the back of the fridge. Not wanting to wake your husband up, you slide out of bed as quietly as possible, tip-toeing out the door and into the kitchen, turning the lights on to the dimmest setting. It’s a peaceful kind of quiet, the distinct chirping of crickets barely audible from outside. Someone snores upstairs, only obvious if you listen carefully. You take the first bite and break out into a blissful smile, savoring it in your mouth with your eyes closed.
Your ears perk when you hear the shuffle of slippers getting closer. Nanami appears, looking at you with bleary eyes and a small smile on his face. There are crumbs on your lips as you return his grin, sheepish for being caught in the act. “Hi,” you muffle, mouth still full. 
He chuckles softly, stepping towards you. He’s wearing a very adorable set of flannel pajamas, ones that match yours. “Having fun?”
You nod, offering him your plate and fork. “Want a bite?”
He yawns, sliding his hands on your waist, pulling you forward to press a kiss on top of your head. “I’m craving a different kind of dessert. Something much sweeter.”
Oblivious, you take another bite, saying, “I think there’s some leftover cheesecake in there – ”
“That’s not what I meant,” he cuts you off, amused by your misunderstanding. He takes the plate from your hands, setting it on the counter, wiping the crumbs from your lips with his thumb, sticking it in his own mouth for a taste. 
“Oh,” you utter, finally clicking. “Oh.”
Within seconds, your craving for pie is completely overtaken by Nanami’s craving for you. You’re propped up on the countertop, stripped bare from the waist-down, legs spread open for him as he eats you out, licking and sucking on your clit eagerly. His hair is bunched between your fingers, your grip tight on his scalp the deeper he devours you. One hand is pressed firmly to your mouth to hush your pleasured moans, the other has two digits buried in your wet cunt. He puckers his lips around you, suckling on your now swollen clit, releasing you with a lewd pop. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. So juicy, so delicious.”
You let out an exasperated laugh, breathing out onto his palm, gently squeezing his face with your thighs. “You’re so bad.”
“Only because you made me this way,” he grunts, removing his fingers to fuck you with his tongue, licking up every drop that leaks out of you.
“Fuck me,” you whine, impatient and desperate.
He drags you off the table, turning you around so that your back is flat against his chest, his mouth hot on your ear. He shoves the waistband of his pants down, releasing his hard cock, stiff against his abdomen. “You really want it? More than that fucking pie?”
You bite your lip, trying to contain your laughter. He can’t seriously be jealous of a piece of pie, can he? Not wanting to tease him further, you moan, “I want you more than anything, Kento.” 
He hums, satisfied with your answer, before he tips your chin towards him, kissing you fiercely, guiding his cock inside you while his other hand plays with your clit. “That’s right. Better than any fucking dessert you can ever have.”
Okay, so maybe your husband really is jealous of a piece of pie. 
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pedgito · 2 months ago
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wishing everyone a belated happy holidays and early happy new year! december was a hectic month for me so i didn't read nearly as much as i wanted to, but these are the fics i enjoyed in the time that i had. i went through a bit of a series binge early this month, as you'll see below. here's to all the fluffy, angsty, smutty goodness everyone is bound to cook up in 2025!
this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:
smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️
total fics listed below: 18
✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑
↝ hook 'em series by @joeloverture — 🌶️
Trying to get back at your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you right into the arms of his coach. You plan on staying there for a little while.
↝ smooth operator series by @penascigarette — ☄️, 🌶️
You didn't know why Joel was so different from your other clients. His voice was the first thing to catch your attention, followed closely by words so hot they lit a fire within you. Everything he said drew you to him like a moth to a flame; but that's the problem with fire. Someone is bound to get burnt.
↝ limits by @perotovar — 🌶️
So like, imagine a world where bulls evolved to be bi-pedal and can mate with humans, but it’s not a common practice. Don’t think too hard about it, just imagine you’re a new farm hand/stable boy and caught the attention of one of those bulls, okay?
↝ the one you need series by @loliwrites — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️
When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life.
↝ stay forever by @mrsmando, part one: stay while — 🌶️, ☁️
You & Joel finally reach jackson, and the life you’ve dreamed of becomes reality — with a few twists and turns along the way.
↝ i'm empty without you, so come grow within me by @chronically-ghosted — 🌶️, ☄️
With winter approaching, Joel takes stock of what he wants and what he has in his life. He wants you, but he’s not quite sure he has you, not in a way that only a life in Jackson can afford. Joel’s an old-fashioned guy, so he’s looking for an old-fashioned love…if he can only remember how to do it right.
↝ mr. winter by @kedsandtubesocks — 🌶️, ☁️
You wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition.
↝ through the glass by @murder-wife — 🌶️
Your neighbor, Joel, seems to have a revolving door of dates. He also doesn't seem to have a taste for keeping his curtains closed. You can't help but watch when it feels like he wants you to see what he's doing to them.
↝ but he's the one i want by @wheresarizona — 🌶️
All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 
✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍
↝ shadows by @burntheedges — 🌶️
You were pretty sure the ship was haunted.
✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒
↝ guilty as sin by @ovaryacted — ☄️, 🌶️
Being the daughter of a Senator of Rome has it’s pros and cons, you lived comfortably while constantly being reminded of your insubordinate position in society. However, upon meeting General Acacius, your life changes as you begin to grow fond of him. The question is, will he reciprocate your feelings, or cast you out to suffer your impending doom of unwanted courtship?
↝ fit for a goddess by @ozarkthedog
You wear Marcus’s gold laurel crown while he worships you.
↝ propositio by @gracieheartspedro — ☄️, 🌶️
After assembling an army to win back Rome, you finally get to confront the traitor to your cause. General Marcus Acacius.
↝ foxglove downs series by @whocaresstillthelouvre — 🌶️
In the exclusive realm of elite show jumping, where wealth stretches as far as the polished estates, Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus are locked in a fierce competition that reaches far beyond the arena.
✎ — 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒
↝ nut vid with the sound on by @syd-djarin — 🌶️
You accidentally send Frankie a text that he wasn’t supposed to see.
✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀
↝ helping hand by @/mrsmando — ☁️, 🌶️
You and Javi take a bath together.
✎ — 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀
↝ reprieve by @hauntedhowlett-writes — ☄️, 🌶️
When angry, Emperor Geta seeks reprieve in his empress.
✎ —𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀
↝ death kink by @s-lverwing — ☄️
Devotion between you and Caracalla is measured in blood.
likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3
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lukas-broken-bow · 1 month ago
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Why is your name that?
Mine is this because when I first started tumblr I was hyperfixating on an OC called Oscar who got kidnapped by an evil doctor/ringmaster. (He was called Valentine which was ironic because Saint Valentine was a doctor who was a beloved figure and all of the people Dr. Valentine kidnapped to be in his show hated him. But also because he’s aroace and loves all his victims like pets but he’s namesakes with a holiday about non platonic love.) Valentine would do a thing where- You know how some taxidermists will make mythical creatures out of several different animal species’ parts? He would do that with living things. He would use surgeries and chemicals to combine living creatures together to make monsters for his show. There was also a carnival that he also owned that traveled with the circus/was part of it. And in that carnival was a “zoo” thing for artificial monsters who refused to perform. Like Oscar. So Valentine turned Oscar into a have snake. (Like the shape a mermaid is, but with a snake instead of a fish.) Valentine has chemicals that can make things grow more than they should to fit whatever creatures they’re supposed to be attached to. So he did that with the snake and mixed up it’s organs so that it’s brain could go in in its back somewhere and be connected up to Oscar’s brain so that they could communicate mentally. Now Valentine put the snake’s fangs, tongue, and vocal cords into Oscar’s mouth and throat (so now he can’t talk and he’s venomous.) But you understand. It’s still the snake’s brain controlling all the snake parts. And the snake would have conflict with Oscar at first. But then they would slowly meld into one consciousness because they can both feel each other’s physical sensations and emotions and they’re aware of all of each other’s thoughts, so like. Intuitively, I felt like they would stop being able to tell the difference eventually and just become different facets of the same person.
Anyway, Oscar really, really likes plants. He’s a gardener professionally and on his own because he grows a lot of his own food. (Made his own rain catching irrigation system.) So Valentine offered him a bunch of options for a new name. “Oscar” simply isn’t exotic or snakelike enough. And while Oscar wasn’t going to respond to anything other than his real name, Valentine was going to name tag him with whatever he chose, so it did actually matter. There was one single option for a new name that was anything related to a plant. He decided he would choose that one out of. I guess it was some sort of tie to what he used to do? The name was Basil. Oscar thinks of it as the snake’s name.
So Basil the snaking thing. Now I think I would rename myself “Parsley the Crow” since that’s more accurate to me, but everyone knows me as this and I have friends and branding to keep up with.
(Oscar eventually managed to grow a bunch of plants in his cage as an act of rebellion. Mostly ferns.)
okay, first of all, that lore is FIRE. second, branding is very important so good on you for maintaining your brand.
now, regarding myself, I am, as has been proven, a nerd. I am such a nerd, in fact, that my favourite band of all time is 2CELLOS, a cello duo comprised of Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser that has since broken up. I grew up OBSESSED with their music (I used to beg my mother to watch their music videos every day). they basically designed my pop culture taste. I got into AC/DC because 2CELLOS covered Thunderstruck. they covered the Pirates of the Caribbean theme, so I watched the films. I became interested in time travel (now a dear obsession) because one of their music videos involved them doing rocking cello solos in the Georgian era, and I began hc-ing that they travelled back in time to do it (this was when I was maybe nine). I loved them SO MUCH (still do, but now I also have other interests music-wise and pop culture-wise).
when I was around twelve or thirteen years old, I finally got the chance to go to one of their concerts; my grandparents were in town for my birthday, and as a gift, they bought me tickets to the 2CELLOS tour. at that point, I had just gotten into the internet and didn’t really have a brand or a consistent url, and I didn’t know what I wanted it to be. and then, at the concert (which was AMAZING), Luka played the cello so hard his bow broke. the coolest thing my tiny child self had ever seen.
that was the moment I forever became Luka’s Broken Bow.
funnily enough, for my birthday this year, I got tickets to go see Luka solo in concert in April. who knows, maybe he’ll break his bow again.
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