#merry fanfiction

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Hi! So I just had this idea while listening to the song Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.

Imagine being on set for tbosas during Christmas time and someone from the crew or cast (like Rachel and Josh) put up Mistletoe’s here and there and then discreetly, but very much on purpose, got you and Tom to walk under them to film your reaction to it and take a few pictures!

Mistletoe || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!!!!!! Hope u enjoy this cute lil fic :)

Warnings: noneeee

Wc: 654

Divider by @pommecita

As you stepped into the set where you would come filming for the day—Tom trailing behind you—a festive atmosphere filled the air. The set was adorned with twinkling lights, and the crew members were dressed up in festive clothes.

Set seemed to radiate happiness, and the air buzzed with the delightful energy of people in high spirits. It was your first time filming a project during Christmas so it was both exciting and new to you.

You spot Josh and Rachel wearing Santa hats, exchanging cheerful greetings with the crew. “Everyone’s in the spirit,” You chuckle as Tom comes up behind you, slotting his arm around your shoulder as you wave to people.

“Mhm, couldn’t agree more- Is that Viola in a grinch costume-“ Tom couldn’t even finish his sentence before the two of you start bursting out in laughter at the sight. You pull Tom with you as you walk towards her.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” You squeal, whipping out your phone as you snap pictures with her as you could hear her laughter from inside the suit. You and Tom posed with Viola as you make a mental note to post a christmas on set dump on your insta.

As you and Tom continue your way through the set, you noticed mistletoe strategically placed here and there. The mischievous glint in the crew’s eyes hinted at a playful plan. You couldn’t help but smile, wondering what surprises awaited.

After filming a few scenes here and there, you and Tom sat on one of the chairs that were littered around the set. Your legs were ontop of Tom’s as you both laugh at a tiktok that you were showing him.

Suddenly, Rachel approached with a mischievous grin, her phone in her hands pointed directly at you. “Oh, would you look at that? Mistletoe!” she exclaimed, pointing above your head as both you and Tom look up, catching Josh holding a mistletoe above the two of you with a grin matching his girlfriend.

The crew members nearby chuckled, and Josh chimed in, “Guess tradition says you two have to share a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe!” He makes obnoxious kissing sounds as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, only peeking through your fingers to see Rachel’s phone still pointing at you.

You exchanged amused glances with Tom, both of you caught off guard but playing along. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t break tradition,” Tom said with a wink, his British accent adding a touch of charm.

Under the mistletoe, surrounded by people you considered your family, you and your boyfriend shared a lighthearted, staged kiss, eliciting cheers and whistles from the crew. Cameras clicked, capturing the festive moment that would undoubtedly make its way into the behind-the-scenes footage.

As you pulled away, Rachel couldn’t resist teasing, “Ah, the magic of Christmas on set!” Tom chuckled, “Who knew mistletoe would find its way into the Hunger Games universe?”

The crew continued their work, but the festive spirit lingered. Throughout the day, more mistletoe moments were orchestrated with different cast members, each adding a touch of holiday cheer to the set which was amusing for fans to watch.

During a break, you found yourself by the craft services table, sipping on hot chocolate . Tom joined you, a playful glint still in his eyes. “I never thought I’d be kissing you under a mistletoe in the Capitol, of all places,” You laugh, nudging him as he fixes himself a hot chocolate.

~

“So, tell us, what was your favorite memory from filming during the Christmas season?” The interviewer, a charismatic woman with a warm smile, set the tone for the conversation.

Tom leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye, “Oh, that’s an easy one. Viola Davis in a Grinch costume. Nothing beats that sight on a festive set.” Laughter rippled through the room, and the interviewer joined in. “Viola Davis as the Grinch? That’s something we need to see!”

A few pictures appeared on the screen behind you and Tom, capturing the hilarious moment of Viola Davis fully embracing the holiday spirit as the Grinch. The audience erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the vivid memory.

As the laughter subsided, the interviewer turned to you, “And you Y/n? Any standout moments from the Christmas filming?” You smiled, recalling the unexpected joy that filled the set. “Well, Tom and I had a rather unexpected encounter with a mistletoe. I think everyone knows what I’m talking about right?” You look to the crowd who all agree.

The screen shifted to a video clip, capturing the behind-the-scenes moment when Josh and Rachel orchestrated the mistletoe surprise. You and Tom, caught off guard, shared a playful kiss under the strategically placed mistletoe, eliciting cheers and applause from the crew.

“There it is,” you said, gesturing to the screen. “That was our impromptu mistletoe moment. Josh and Rachel ensured we got into the holiday spirit, Capitol style, obviously” You give a wink, giggling at the sight of you and Tom in full capitol glamour.

Tom grinned, “It was a festive surprise, to say the least. But it made for a memorable Christmas on set,” The audience enjoyed the wholesome clip, and the interviewer couldn’t help but smile before they wrapped up the interview.

#merry christmas #fanfiction #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth x actress!reader #actress!reader #tom blyth fluff #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #viola davis #rachel zegler #josh andres rivera #tbosas #tbosas imagine #tbosas x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #behind the scenes #behindthscenesimagine

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

A lot can happen in six months (and yet nothing can change) (M)

Genre: Hallmark Christmas Romcom!core, Ex!Mingyu, angst, bad decisions are made and talked about, porn somewhere in here because of course

Warnings: Exes are exes, breakups are breakups and this writer doesn’t know what that’s all like, creampie, unprotected sex, switch?gyu, switch?yn, dub con

Summary: 

Six months ago you and Mingyu broke up and you weren’t sure exactly how to move on. Now, he was calling you all over again, as you to go on a non-refundable romantic Christmas weekend in New York City, and you know that you should say no... But how on Earth, does one say no to Kim Mingyu? 

-

All things in life happen for a reason. 

That’s what you told yourself like a mantra whenever you weren’t sure where your life was headed. When you were graduating high school and only got into one of your colleges, when your grandpa died and you had to fly out to your hometown for his funeral, even when you lost your job and spent five months unemployed unable to land a job despite your many qualifications. 

But the time that echoed the loudest through your brain, the time you depended on it the most was the time that you would live to hate for the rest of your life. 

“Walk out that door and we are through.” 

When you had made it to Chwe Hansol’s apartment door, you were sobbing and he had a girl hooked to his arm. 

In minutes, that girl was gone and you two were alone in his apartment, your head in his lap as you sobbed. 

“I don’t get it,” you stuttered through tears. “We were fine. And then he-“ 

You hiccuped but before you could say more the door was opening to the apartment. You looked over your shoulder to see a blurry image of short brown hair and tall slender legs. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Hansol said softly. “I invited Dasom over.” 

You turned back to Hansol shoving your face into his chest as the tears ran freely down your face. Of course, you didn’t mind Dasom being over. Out of everyone in your life Hansol and Dasom were your two favorites. They had been there for you since before Mingyu and you had ever even met. They knew all of the ups and downs of your relationship with him and everything. 

Never had you imagined that they would end up seeing the end of it. 

“What happened?” Dasom asked, a hand finding its way to your back. “Hansol just said that it was an emergency and I needed to come over.” 

You pulled out of Hansol’s chest, giving her what had to be an incredibly pathetic look. 

“We broke up-” 

This time instead of falling into Hansol, you fell against Dasom, burying your face into her neck. 

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Hansol said bluntly. You looked over at him, shooting him a glare. 

“Hey-“ 

“The world doesn’t end because you stop dating Kim Mingyu.” 

“I thought I was going to be with Kim Mingyu for the rest of my life,” you snapped back. “He was supposed to be my last relationship. My ride or die. The man I married.” 

“How did this even happen?” Dasom asked, still completely lost. You looked at her. 

“He thought I cheated on him.” 

“Which is stupid,” Hansol inserted. 

“Well, it wasn’t baseless!” You protested. You dug your phone out of your pocket, clumsily unlocking it and shoving the phone in Dasom’s face. 

“This is why he thought I cheated and honestly? I’m starting to think I did cheat on him.” 

Dasom took your phone, confusion settling itself on her face as she scrolled through the conversation. 

“You cheated on Mingyu?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, I didn’t!” You protested. 

“Then who is Byungho?” She asked. 

“Who is Byungho?” You agreed loudly. “Do you know a Byungho? I don’t. Hansol doesn’t. No one does! But who would believe that with that conversation on my phone.” 

Hansol scoffed and took the phone from Dasom’s hands, looking at the conversation himself. 

“Obviously Mingyu should know you better than this. This person doesn’t even text like you.” 

“I think he was too busy having his heart broken to analyze the way that I was texting,” you said bluntly. “So instead, he just broke mine too.” 

You broke down into sobs earning yourself a sigh of sympathy from Dasom. 

“What are you going to do? You and Mingyu were perfect together,” Dasom said. “You’ve got to get him back.” 

“There’s no getting him back, he blocked me on everything,” you replied between your tears. “And I tried to go back to our apartment, but Soonyoung threatened to take legal action if I showed up again.” 

“What a-” 

“He’s just being a good friend,” you interrupted shooting yet another glare at Hansol. “I can’t even be mad I’m just… Completely and utterly helpless and I’m never going to be in love ever again.” 

“Hey-“ 

When you didn’t look up Dasom’s hands fell on your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. 

“You’re going to fall in love again. Everything is going to be okay.” 

You nodded at her, but your heart didn’t really match the optimism. 

“Besides, who knows? Maybe this will all blow over and Mingyu will take you back.” 

But weeks of staring at your phone waiting for that phone call turned into months, and before you knew it all your stuff was in Hansol’s apartment and he was the first person that you saw every day. 

Now, you were the you after Kim Mingyu. 

“Y/n!” Jeonghan cheered from across the bar, holding up two shots. “Come here! Let’s toast!” 

You waved off the person you were talking to and squeezed past people in the bar until you were pushed right up to Jeonghan. You smiled at him as he pushed one of the shot glasses into your hand. 

“Let’s drink,” he said excitedly. “To being newly single.” 

“I’ve been single, Jeonghan,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “And Jihyo was barely a relationship.” 

Jeonghan’s mouth dropped open and he feigned hurt by placing his hands to his chest. 

“Barely a relationship?” He exclaimed. “After the amount of sex we had I wouldn’t say-” 

Loud protests coming from you stopped Jeonghan from talking with a laugh. 

“Look, you’re just jealous because no one has even tested the waters with you since you and Mingyu broke up.” 

“That’s not true,” you insisted. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.  

“Okay then, where’s the comprehensive list?” 

You comically dropped open your mouth. 

“Mr. Yoon, I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Before Jeonghan could attempt to humiliate you further, a hand wrapped around your wrist, and Dasom fixed you with a large smile. 

“Did you come here to talk to Jeonghan or did you come here to have fun?” She asked. You laughed, letting her drag you into the middle of the bar. She put her back to a guy you knew she didn’t know and began to grind on him. You covered your mouth as you laughed as she turned and drew the guy into a kiss. 

When she looked back at you she gestured around her. 

“Come on. Pick a guy. Don’t you want to have fun tonight?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m just dancing here on my own,” you said, moving your hands to your sides and doing a truly awful dance move from side to side. As you moved someone came up behind you, their hand on the small of your back. 

“I know a guy you could grind on.” 

You turned back to Jeonghan. 

“Why don’t you find a different person to grind with?” You said. “You might not strike out if you start somewhere else.” 

He laughed. 

“Okay no grinding, but I have all night to find someone to go home with.” 

His hand move to yours and he swung your hand back and forth. 

“Tonight I’ll just bother you until we find someone for you to hook up with.” 

You rolled your eyes, falling into step with Jeonghan as you two danced around the room. 

“I’m not going to hook up with someone tonight,” you protested. 

“Come on!” Jeonghan protested. “You’ve got to! You’re in a dry spell. You’re never going to move on from Mingyu if you don’t take this step.” 

“I’ve moved on from Mingyu,” you replied. “It’s been months-” 

“Six to be exact,” Jeonghan replied. “Six months since anyone has entered your sacred temple-” 

“Ew-” 

“It’s not healthy to go that long without sex,” Jeonghan said seriously. You shook your head. 

“I’ll get back into the game when I’m ready to get back into the game,” you said. “You should focus on your own chances tonight. You’re going to strike out a lot with that shirt on.” 

Jeonghan laughed but he seemed to accept your answer this time. He spun you around, his eyes suddenly on the crowd around him. 

“Alright, so let’s see,” he said softly. “Who do you think is the girl who has drank the least but is still hot and smart enough to come home with me tonight?” 

“I actually think everyone here is too smart to go home with you tonight,” you replied. Before Jeonghan could express his offense you pointed at a girl not too far. 

“What about her? She’s hot, and she’s not holding a drink,” you suggested. He hummed, clicking his tongue.  

“She’s watching her friends like a hawk though. No way she would leave the bar with me.” 

“Unless we get her to send her friend's home one by one,” you replied. “All it takes is for an observation from a friend and a certain Yoon Jeonghan offering to call them a cab like an absolute angel.” 

A smile spread over Jeonghan’s lips as he slowly whistled and then pressed his lips to your cheek in a brief kiss, that left you laughing and batting him away. 

“You clever thing you.” 

To be completely honest you liked helping Jeonghan with his hook ups and simple plans like getting a couple of friends home safe while Jeonghan made his move were fun. You weren’t surprised when Jeonghan was leaving the bar with a girl on his arm, and a wink over his shoulder in your direction. 

Luckily for you, during the whole debacle you had found a fun stranger to pass the time with. 

You weren’t paying any attention to the time, or even Dasom as you danced with the person, talking about your day and your plans for the week. 

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you glanced down, slipping it out of your pocket. It took one glance at the phone number on your screen to have you pushing your beer on the counter. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

You felt your heart rate increasing as you pushed through the crowd, feeling the phone vibrating in your hand. Each time it vibrated you worried that you were taking too long, and yet you still had a while before you would get out of the bar. 

Before you could think it over twice, you answered the call pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi, just one second-” 

You pushed past a few more people and out the door of the bar, jogging until you were in the quiet alley next to the bar. 

“Hi, sorry, it’s so loud in there,” you said, laughing slightly as you changed the ear that your phone was pressed to. 

“Hello.” 

You hadn’t thought you were going to hear that soft voice ever again. You thought maybe right now on the phone he sounded raspier. But maybe that was just in your head. 

“Sorry, this is-” 

“I know it’s you Mingyu,” you breathed, pressing your back against the brick wall behind you. 

“You still have my contact?” 

“No. I’d just recognize your phone number in my sleep.” 

There was a moment of silence where Mingyu took the chance to breath. 

“This is.... This is stupid,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t ask you this.” 

You waited for him to go on, but he was hesitant. 

“Maybe not,” you agreed. “But I can tell you if it really is or not. Just ask.” 

You really didn’t care what he had to say. You just wanted to continue to hear his voice. 

“You know how we had planned to go to New York together for Christmas?” 

You were quiet for too long. You were enjoying listening to him so much that you forgot how to speak. 

“Yeah. We booked the flight and hotel and everything,” you replied. 

“Well, it’s non-refundable.” 

“What?” 

“The flight, the hotel? It’s all non-refundable.” 

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Well, that’s okay. You should still go.”  “No, no, I want you to go,” Mingyu replied softly. “It was your dream to go there over Christmas.” 

“Mingyu you paid for it. I can’t just take your-” 

“I’m not going on that trip,” Mingyu interrupted, his voice rough. You scoffed. 

“I’m not going either.” 

There was silence between the two of you, long enough that a few minutes passed and neither of you hung up. You wondered if he was holding on for the same reasons as you were. Because you missed him more than you had realized. 

“Y/n, I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. 

“And I’m about to suggest you something stupid that I really shouldn’t suggest.” 

“I can decide that.” 

He sighed. 

“If you won’t go to New York because I paid for the tickets, and I won’t go because you’re the one who wanted to why don’t we.... Meet in the middle.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“Meet in the...?” 

“Let’s go to New York together.” 

“What?” You blurted. You cleared your throat, trying to get control of how loud you had been. “Mingyu that’s crazy.” 

“It’s crazy for us to just let the money go to waste!” 

“Do you even want to go on the trip with me? You’re the one who-” 

“I know what I said,” Mingyu interrupted. “I’m not... I’m not saying I regret it I just... You deserve that. At least. After this year, you deserve New York City at Christmas.” 

Silence fell between you two again. 

“I shouldn’t have-” 

“Let’s do it.” 

“... Really?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s just one weekend right? What harm is one weekend?” 

“You’re stupid,” Hansol insisted, watching you from your bed as you packed another shirt into your suitcase. You shot him annoyed look, which just made him shoot you another wide eyed one. “What? You are! You’re going on a weekend trip with your ex?” 

“It’s just five days.” 

“That’s five more days than you ever thought you would see him again,” Hansol hissed. “You’re going to go on that trip and you’re going to-” 

“What?” You interrupted Hansol. “Fall in love with him again? It’s five days. I’m not going to fall in love with him again over five days.” 

Hansol was quiet for a little bit and while it should have made you relieved you couldn’t help but think that the silence was worse than him talking. You tried really hard to ignore it for a few minutes but the silence was deafening. 

“What?” You sighed. Hansol looked away from you. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he said. 

“You think I’m going to fall back in love with Mingyu on this trip?” You pressed. 

Hansol sighed. 

“I don’t think that you are ever fell out of love with him.” 

You stopped in the middle of packing your bags, looking away from Hansol. You hated the way his words made a knot grow in your throat. Not because Hansol was wrong and it was making you frustratrated… But because you knew that he was right. 

“A lot of people are still in love with their exes,” you said quietly. “Our break up wasn’t satisfying for me since I never got the chance to explain. Of course I’m still in love with him.” 

“It’s not going to be good for you to go on this trip with him,” Hansol insisted. “Let’s say he falls back in love with you. Because you’re familiar and he misses you even though he thinks you cheated on him. He’s never going to trust you. He’ll never believe you when you promise that guy from the club approached you unsolicited or that Chan from work really did need extra help.” 

“Hansol, you’re being ridiculous,” you insisted. “Mingyu has too much self-respect for himself to go back to me after I cheated on him.” 

“You forget I was friends with him before the break up,” Hansol said. “If Mingyu loved you as much as he seemed to, then he very well would take you back.” 

You weren’t really sure how you were supposed to react to the prospect of getting back together with Mingyu. Your whole body buzzed at the excitement of it, but you couldn’t help but think about what Hansol was saying. 

Would he really take you back just because you were familiar? Was it possible that he missed what you two used to have? Surely, he wouldn’t subject himself to the pain of never being able to trust you just because he had never been able to fully move on from your relationship. 

You shook your head, clearing your mind of your rampant thoughts. 

“It’s just a trip,” you said. “Nothing’s going to happen on a trip.” 

- 

“You know it’s not too late to back out,” Hansol warned as you looked through your bag to try and make sure that you had all of the documents that you were going to need. “I won’t be upset with you if you want me to drive you back home.” 

“I’m going on this trip Hansol,” you said, shooting him a glare. “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s smart. I’m already here and packed. Besides…” I want to see Mingyu again. 

Before Hansol could start to lecture you again about how bad of an idea it was, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You dug it out and shushed Hansol as you answered the phone. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hey it’s-“ 

“Mingyu, I know it’s you,” you interrupted softly. “I just got to the airport. Are you here?” 

“Yeah, I can see you.” 

Your eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, where-” 

“Turn to your right and right next to the pillar…” 

You followed Mingyu’s instructions and when you finally found him, standing across the airport in a long dark grey trench coat with a scarf tied tightly around his neck… You forgot how to breath. 

You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. Not even in passing on the street or at a club by chance. You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. 

Your phone lowered ever so slightly from your ear and your mouth gaped a little. You felt your eyes flutter and- 

You felt yourself get nudged sharply in the side. 

“Just a weekend trip?” Hansol hissed at you. You glared at him and shoved your finger in front of your lips again. 

“He can hear and see us.” 

“Good, maybe I can talk some sense into him about-” 

“I’ll be right over,” you interrupted loudly into the phone, quickly hanging up. As soon as the phone call had ended you looked over at Hansol giving him a look that you could only hope would kill. 

“Can you not be good for two seconds?” You asked him. “I’m going on this trip. Would it kill you to be supportive?” 

“You took one look at Mingyu and it was like you were already falling in love with him all over again,” Hansol said. “Did you not see your face? You looked like you were ready to marry him and you haven’t seen him in six months.” 

“Shut up Hansol. You’re making it out to be a much bigger deal then it is,” you snapped. You snatched your suitcase from Hansol’s hands. “If you’re not going to be civil you can just leave me right now.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you!” Hansol argued back. “And not just you, I’m trying to look out for Mingyu as well.” 

“We don’t need your help Hansol!” You argued back. You felt heat raising to your face, but before you could argue with him more you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Look. This is the last time I’ll see you before Christmas. I don’t want to argue with you right before Christmas.” 

Hansol scoffed and looked away from you so you sighed. 

“Hansol, you know you’re my best friend ever right?” You pressed softly. Hansol glanced over at you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You stepped closer to him, smiling up at him. 

“I love you.” 

Hansol tried to still look annoyed but a small smile spread itself over his lips. 

“I love you too.” He said. He raised his hand to your hair. “Be good in New York, okay? You know I’m just a phone call away.” 

You nodded, and you went to say something else to him but before he could someone cleared their throat. You glanced over, your face flaming red when you realized that Mingyu was standing right there next to you. You took a step back, your fingers tightening around the handle to your suitcase. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“I’m not upset,” he said. His eyes flitted over to Hansol and they narrowed slightly. “I’d be upset too if my roommate was going on a weekend trip without me.” 

Hansol rolled his eyes. 

“Good to see you too,” he said. He turned his attention back to you. 

“Don’t forget,” he reminded, taping his phone with his index finger. “Just a call away.” 

“See you Hansol,” you said. He nodded and raised his hand in farewell, nodding to Mingyu as he left. You watched him for a while, secretly wishing he would stay with you two just a little longer. 

“So… You’ve moved on from Byungho then?” 

“Byungho?” You repeated, your eyebrows scrunching at the name. Mingyu scoffed and took your suitcase from your hand. 

“You and Hansol just looked really comfortable,” he replied. Your eyebrows furrowed at the statement, but you were too focused on your suitcase to mind. 

“Hey, why are you-” 

“It’s always the ones that they tell you not to worry about,” Mingyu continued with a roll of his eyes. He started walking forward, not really giving you the time to digest the statement. “Come on, our gate is this way.” 

You rushed forward to try and keep up with Mingyu- he was walking fast. You noted that he never used to walk this fast. Not when you two were dating. People always talked about how fast Mingyu walked but you had always been able to keep up with him so you just assumed that you were a fast walker too. 

Now it was evident that he walked slower then for you. 

“It’s uh…” You trailed off, glancing at the people walking past. “It’s really nice to see you.” 

Mingyu was quiet, so you decided to press the topic. 

“I never thought you were going to talk to me again.” 

“I didn’t either,” Mingyu replied, his voice soft. You thought again about what Hansol had said. Remembered that he thought Mingyu would let himself fall back into a relationship that lacked trust and… 

“So, we’ve got quite the flight ahead of us,” you said, clearing your throat and turning away from Mingyu. 

He hummed, as he looked you up and down. 

“Yeah.” 

He sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold? Do you know how cold it is outside? And it’s going to be even colder in New York,” he commented. You glanced down at your clothes, your head falling to the side. 

“I’m wearing a long-sleeve.” 

“But you get cold so easily,” Mingyu replied. You’re going to be freezing in New York.” 

You rolled your eyes away from him. 

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. Mingyu seemed like he didn’t want to argue it anymore and his attention turned away from you. 

“Our gate isn’t that far from here. Did you eat?” 

As he walked, your eyes stayed trained on your bag that he was rolling through the airport. 

“Hansol and I grabbed coffee on the way here,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding- If you remembered him as well as you thought he did- a little disappointed. “I haven’t had anything. I think I’ll grab a scone and an americano once we get to our gate.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “Can I have my bag back?” 

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu replied. 

Your eyes narrowed, but Mingyu didn’t notice because he was walking so damn fast. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath until you two finally got to the gate and he had sat your bags by one of the seats. 

“I’m going to swing by the Starbucks okay? I’ll be right back.” 

You nodded and as soon as Mingyu had disappeared you went through your bag to try and find the book that you had brought to help pass the time. It was sort of hard to focus on it. After all, you were in an airport with Mingyu and you were about to go on a weekend trip with him. Your ex. 

You had never done anything so stupid. Somehow with your past relationships the breaks had always been clean and there had never been any drama between your friends. No rumors of cheating, no emotional abuse. Just a I think we should break up text and a normal following Tuesday. 

But your relationship with Mingyu had been so intense. It being ripped away from you meant you never got the closure that you so desperately craved. 

“Here.” 

You looked up to see that Mingyu was holding a Starbucks cup in front of your face. Your eyebrows rose. 

“What...” You trailed off as you took the warm cup from you. 

“I wasn’t just not going to get you something. I hope you still like lattes.” 

Mingyu took a seat next to you and pulled a danish from out of a little bag. He began to snack on it, taking a sip of his americano between the drink. As he did, you turned your attention to the latte that he had gotten you. It was hot. You generally enjoyed them iced, but you knew he must have gotten it hot because it was so cold out and he wanted you to stay warm. 

You took a sip of it, glad to see that not only did it have your favorite kind of milk in it but that it was a flavor of latte that you hadn’t had since the breakup. You smiled against your cup, turning your head so that Mingyu wouldn’t see. You had sort of thought that Mingyu would have forgotten these little things about you. 

Mingyu didn’t talk to you much while you waited for the flight to start boarding. You read your book and finished your coffee and he threw away your things before you two finally got called on board. 

Getting onto the plane brought you the very first surprise of the trip. As you two walked through the plane you walked past the normal part of the plane... Then the business part of the plane... Until you got to... 

“You bought us first class?” You hissed. Mingyu glanced over his shoulder at you and shrugged. 

“It was your dream to come to New York City for Christmas. I wanted this trip to be a dream.” 

 “Going to the city of lights is a dream enough you didn’t have to buy us first class tickets.” 

The two of you sat down in seats that were practically twin recliners right next to each other with a large shared movie screen between the two. You glanced around as you sat your stuff down noticing the people next to the two of you had a literal gucci jacket on. 

“Mingyu, how much did this cost?” You asked, keeping your voice hushed so that it wasn’t too obvious that you two didn’t belong here. 

“I had just gotten a promotion... Remember?” Mingyu asked. “I make a lot of money now.” 

“Yeah but...” 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n.” 

“I can’t believe you almost let this much money go to waste,” you said with a shake of your head. “How am I supposed to not worry about it? That’s a lot of money.” 

“Why don’t you pick a movie?” Mingyu suggested, ignoring the fact that you were obsessing so much over how much money he must have spent on these tickets alone. 

“You can’t distract me from...” 

Even as you spoke Mingyu had started to scroll through the movies on the screen, and before you could finish your statement you saw something that you hadn’t thought you would see. 

“No way they have Onward,” you exclaimed excitedly. You instinctively grabbed Mingyu’s arm, and shook it the best you could (Mingyu barely budged because... You know...). “Can we watch Onward? Please?” 

“You haven’t changed a bit have you?” Mingyu asked with a laugh. “I think they also have Frozen on here. You sure you don’t want to watch that?” 

The endorphins raced in your body at the idea of watching that movie too. 

“It’s a long flight,” you said. “We can just watch both right?” 

Mingyu hummed. 

“Yeah, we can watch both.” 

If there was one thing that you hadn’t been expecting to happen when going on this trip was to fall into old habits. But the entirety of the flight didn’t feel awkward at all. Instead, you spent the whole trip reciting your favorite lines, under your breath, only to catch Mingyu smiling at you in between instead of being annoyed the way that you would think he would be. 

Eventually he dozed off to sleep, and it was just you sitting next to him on the flight. 

You couldn’t help the feeling in the bottom of your chest. A feeling that you hadn’t felt in six months. You swallowed hard and looked down at your hands. 

You thought you needed to focus on the Onward and stop focusing on the sleeping man next to you. 

When you and Mingyu made it to the hotel you tried your best not to freak out like you had about the first-class tickets. Why would you have to try your best not to freak out? Because the giant marble atrium of the hotel lobby that you were standing in was making you think that maybe Mingyu spent a little bit more than the budget you two had discussed so long ago. 

“I have a reservation under Kim Mingyu,” Mingyu said to the attendant who was standing there with real diamond earrings in her ears. She smiled at him, and typed a few things on her computer. 

“Ah right, Kim Mingyu. The gentleman who booked our honeymoon suite over Christmas.” 

“Oh-” Mingyu laughed nervously, glancing back at you. “I called to switch the room. Did that not end up happening?” 

The lady’s head cocked to the side and her eyebrows riddled in confusion. 

“We didn’t get a call about that? Do you remember who you talked to?” 

“Angela,” Mingyu replied without missing a beat. “She said that she could switch to a room with two queens...?” 

The lady at the desk sighed. 

“Between you and me? Angela is days from getting fired. She never does what she is supposed to.” The lady clicked away at her computer. “Let me see. You just need a room with two beds?” 

“Yes. You don’t have to charge me less just... Some things have changed.” 

The lady at the desk thankfully didn’t pry. She clicked away at her computer for a while before finally sighing and turning her attention to Mingyu. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim, but I have nothing.” 

“Nothing at all? I mean we’ll take-” 

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, taking a step forward. You smiled at the lady and shrugged. “He’s always so considerate but it’s really fine if we share a bed. The honeymoon suite sounds fun.” 

You couldn’t help the way you bit the bottom of your lip. 

“Expensive,” you mumbled and then flashed a smile. “Fun.” 

“Okay! Then here are your keys-” She slid the two of you hotel room keys. “It’s the top floor. Has a balcony, only room on that floor. Would you like someone to take your bags up to the room?” 

Before you could answer Mingyu was nodding. 

“We have a show to catch.” 

You turned to Mingyu your eyes wide as you mouthed: Show to catch? 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice on Broadway.” 

“What!” Your voice rose a little louder than you wanted it to, so you covered your mouth and leaned closer to Mingyu. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice?” You hissed. “How are we going to see Bettlejuice?” 

“It was the musical you wanted to see when we made the plans to come here,” Mingyu replied pointedly. “I bought the tickets back then.” 

“How did you know that I wanted to see Beetlejuice?” You asked. Mingyu reached into his jacket pocket, rummaging through it a little bit before pulling out a piece of paper. 

“Don’t you remember? You wrote an itinerary for the trip,” he replied. You took the piece of paper and surely enough, there it was... The itinerary that you had spent hours drafting up all those months ago. You had completely forgotten about this itinerary. In fact, when you and Mingyu had broken up you had completely scrapped all thoughts of coming to New York City at all. 

“You still have this?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows scrunched together uncertainly, and shrugged. 

“I...” He trailed off, clearly trying to think of something good to say. “We should go now so that we have plenty of time to get in our seats.” 

- 

“I can’t believe we just saw a Broadway musical,” you said excitedly. “And Beetlejuice at that? Remember, that was the only thing I listened to for like a straight month.” 

Mingyu smiled at you as he took his coat off and began to take yours off your shoulders. 

“Dead mom was stuck in my head for like a week straight,” he replied with a chuckle. “How could I forget?” 

You sang the song quietly under your breath for a moment and then your eyes fell on the single bed in the room. You swallowed hard. 

“Uhm, so what are we going to do about...?” 

You didn’t even have to finish. Mingyu finished hanging up your two’s coats and then joined you looking at the bed. 

“I’ll just sleep on the floor. They have extra bedding in the closet.” 

“What?” You blurted. “You shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor. You spent so much money on this room-” 

“I keep telling you to forget about the money-” 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you finished. 

“Not happening,” Mingyu replied with a shake of his head. “Why are you being so bratty on this trip? It’s just a few nights on the floor. I’ll survive.” 

“Bratty?” You blurted, your mouth dropping in disbelief. “Did you really just call me bratty?” 

“You keep worrying about money when I tell you not to.” 

“Even when we were dating, I didn’t like it when you spoiled me!” You insisted.  

That wasn’t entirely true, and you knew by the narrowing of his eyes that Mingyu could tell. You had liked it when Mingyu spent money on you because you knew that was a part of his love language, and you could pay him back in your own ways. 

But here? Now? How would you pay him back? 

And furthermore, why was he using his love language on you here and now? Six months after your breakup. Six months after he was supposed to take you back. 

You glanced up at him as he began to pull something out of his suitcase. 

Six months too late. 

“Let’s just share the bed,” you suggested. Mingyu looked back at you, frowning slightly. 

“Share...?” 

“We’re already crossing every boundary,” you pointed out. “Might as well cross this one too.” 

You went over to your own bag. 

“Besides, it’s a king size. It’ll be like we’re both in our own bed.” 

Even though you said that laying down in the bed with Mingyu made you nervous. 

“Do you mind if I read something?” Mingyu asked. You gestured for him to go ahead and rolled over so that your back was to him. You were scared to move. Practically hugging the side of the bed as you stared at the beige wall in front of you illuminated in the amber light. 

“Is it too bright?” Mingyu asked. You shook your head against your pillow. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing the bed?” Mingyu continued. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. 

“Of course, I suggested it.” 

“You’re stiff as a board,” Mingyu pointed out. Your mouth gaped. 

“I’m not-” 

“We were together for-” 

“Okay fine, I’m a little on edge,” you replied. “It’s just that we broke up. I mean we can pretend all we want that it’s not but... It’s weird.” 

Mingyu nodded. 

“Let me just take the floor.” 

“I’ll get over it,” you replied firmly. You turned back around. “If I’m not sleeping on the floor, no one is sleeping on the floor.” 

Mingyu sighed but didn’t argue your point. 

“Tell me if I should turn the light off.” 

You didn’t tell Mingyu to turn the light off, but you didn’t fall asleep either. Time passed until Mingyu’s pages stopped turning, and the light went off, and he laid down in the bad. It wasn’t until long after his breathing evened out that you were finally able to drift asleep. 

When you woke up on your own side of the bed you had never felt more relieved in your life. You were on your side of the bed, not wrapped in Mingyu’s arms with your head on your chest or anything of the sort. 

After the whole one bed debacle you had been sure that you had been thrust into some shitty hallmark movie about being forced to spend time with your ex for holidays (one that probably wouldn’t have a happy ending but... Who knew.) Maybe that one cliché was just a coincidence. You sat up in bed, not really surprised to find that Mingyu was awake and reading through his book again. 

While he had never been much of a reader, Mingyu read what Wonwoo read, and this must have been his most recent recommendation. 

You quietly got out of bed, going over to your suitcase to pull out your outfit for today. 

“Mind if I shower?” You asked, noting that it looked like he had already gotten ready. 

“No go ahead. We have a reservation for breakfast in an hour.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. 

“We aren’t just eating breakfast here at the hotel?” 

“In New York City?” Mingyu questioned back. “If I remember right...” 

He pulled out that wrinkled paper itinerary. 

“You were very excited about Old John’s Diner.” 

You couldn’t help the way that your eyes lit up at the reminder of the restaurant. 

“Oh my god, chocolate chip waffles,” you said excitedly. “I’ll be out so fast.” 

True to your word, within the next hour you and Mingyu were sitting down at Old John’s diner. The diner was everything that you had imagined it to be in the pictures. Green stools at a bar, light up Parquette's that read: Take a Break and Sweet Dreams. An espresso machine to match the green bar stools, a led light that read: Since 1959. 

You were practically buzzing in excitement as you slid into one of the booths, your fingers spreading across the marble tabletops. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” you hissed. Your waitress walked over adorned in a red hankerchief tied around her head like a headband and she smiled handing the two of you a menu. 

“Good morning,” she greeted. “Can I get you two started with anything? Water? Coffee?” 

“An Americano,” Mingyu said. 

“A latte,” you piped up afterwards. The waitress wrote down the menu items and smiled at the two of you.  

“I’ll give you some time to look at the menu and I’ll be back soon.” 

You didn’t have to look at the menu to know that you wanted chocolate chip waffles. How could you want anything but chocolate chip waffles? You had practically been thinking about these specific waffles for six months. 

But still you peeked up over the top of your menu, looking at Mingyu close, trying to tell by his eyes what he was going to pick. Six months ago you would have known. Six months ago he would have chosen exactly what you had suggested on the itinerary. 

But this wasn’t six months ago. This was now. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” You asked conversationally. Mingyu hummed, dragging his eyes up to yours. As soon as you two made eye contact however your eyes darted back towards your menu, feeling your heart do something strangely akin to skipping a beat. 

But surely, after having broken six months ago it was incapable of doing that. 

“Do I really have a choice?” He asked, but there was a smile in his voice. “Chocolate chip waffles.” 

Yep, that surely was that feeling in your chest. That echoing, body shaking thud after an absent one was nothing other than your heart reactigin to Mingyu’s words. You weren’t going to do this. 

You weren’t here to fall back in love with Kim Mingyu. 

 You were here to experience the city. To finally see Times Square dusted in snow. To take a walk through Central Park to- 

“Oh my god, wait.” You put your menu face down on the table. “If we are following my itinerary-” 

“To the T,” Mingyu added. 

“That means we’re doing.... Everything?” 

“Our next stop is Starbucks, and then we are seeing Santa Claus at the Empire State Building. We’ll get some KBBQ in Korea Town after that and then go to one of those Holiday Market’s you just wouldn’t stop talking about-” 

“Oh my god and then Spectacular Factory right?!” You exclaimed in excitement. 

“The Holiday Multiverse, open through January 8, is an imaginative multiverse of holiday villages with a candy cane carousel, thousands of nutcrackers, giant swinging jingle bells, holiday wreaths,” Mingyu read somewhat monotone. “We’ll hit the shops and check out the Holiday window displays.” 

“We’re finally going to get to go to Bergdorf Goodman,” you replied, fidgeting in your seat. “And shopping at Fao Schwarz.” 

“Which you kindly included closes at 8, so we have quite the day ahead of us,” Mingyu replied. “But luckily, the last thing on the docket today is open late.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember what the last thing for the day was, but you were drawing a blank. 

“McGee’s pub?” Mingyu reminded softly. 

“From How I Met Your Mother! The bar that inspired it all!” You exclaimed excitedly. You realized that you were getting a little loud and physically lowered your head a little. “Mingyu we’re keeping my entire itinerary?” 

“You spent hours on it!” Mingyu replied. “How could we do anything but?” 

He was right. You had spent a long time on it. But regardless it seemed crazy to you that he was going so far out of his way to make this the perfect vacation.  

“I’ve got to ask though... Starbucks?” 

When you looked at him you saw the jest in his eyes, but you still felt the need to defend yourself as if he wasn’t just joking. 

“It’s New York City!” You replied insistently. “How could I not get Starbucks in New York City?” 

A plate of gooey chocolate chip pancakes, and a tall caramel macchiato later and you and Mingyu were almost up for seeing Santa in none other than the Empire State Building itself. 

When you were younger and had imagined that architectural landmark you had never imagined it would be just as amazing as it was. Sure, it was just a building, but it still left you awestruck. Mingyu poked your arm. 

“We’re almost up,” he said softly. 

You thought it would be awkward to spend this time with Mingyu. And sure, it hadn’t been that long but so far it was everything but awkward. It was actually quite comfortable. You knew that if you had come to New York City for a weekend trip with most people your ideas would clash, but just like Mingyu had insisted since you started planning the trip when you were dating the trip was all about you and if you want to do it, then I will have fun guaranteed. 

“I can’t believe that you actually want to see Santa Claus,” you said with a scoff. 

“Hey, it was on your itinerary!” Mingyu protested. He crossed his arms. “Besides, I have something I need to ask Santa.” 

You laughed incredulously. 

“Mingyu,” you lowered your voice a few octaves. “Santa’s not real. He can’t make your Christmas wish come true.” 

Mingyu’s face contorted into that of a kicked puppies. His eyes wide, his eyebrows lax, his bottom lip protruding.  

“Not with that attitude he can’t.” 

“I just thought it would be good for pictures,” you said, resisting the urge to pat Mingyu’s head as if he actually were a dog. “But it seems a little odd to take pictures now.” 

“Proof that even exes can get along,” Mingyu said matter-of-factly. 

“Next.” 

You and Mingyu wormed your way around the velvet ropes up to the man pretending to be Santa Claus. He was sitting in a huge gold and velvet chair, with arm rests perfect for sitting on. 

“Well look what I have here,” Santa Claus boomed. “It’s always good to see older believers.” 

“Oh y/n, doesn’t really believe. Just wanted the pictures,” Mingyu tattled. 

“Yeah but you believe Mingyu. That’s what matters.” 

Mingyu’s eyes lit up in excitement that Santa knew his name, even though it was obvious that he had just overheard you two a few moments ago. Santa gestured for you two to take either side of him, patting his legs as you two took your seats by his side. 

“Now before the picture. Have you two been good this year?” Santa asked. Mingyu smiled so gummily it was like he was a little kid again. 

“Absolutely! I pulled a few pranks on the boys but overall, I’ve been good.” 

Santa let out a hearty laugh. 

“A few pranks is okay,” he said. He turned his attention to you. “And you? Have you been good this year?” 

“I’ve made a few mistakes,” you replied, risking a glance at Mingyu. “Some people think I’ve made ones I haven’t, but other than that I think I’ve been good.” 

“Well, we can’t help what others think,” Santa replied. “ But remember, this is the time of truth and forgiveness. If there’s ever a time that you would be able to convince someone of something you know to be true. Now is it.” 

Santa shrugged off-handedly. 

“Maybe that person already half-believes it anyways.” 

You couldn’t help but think that Santa was awfully on point with his speech but before you could say anything about it he was turning his attention to Mingyu. 

“Now Mingyu,” he said. “What is it that you want for Christmas?” 

Mingyu gestured for Santa to lean close. 

“I can’t let y/n hear or it won’t come true,” he insisted, making you roll your eyes. You couldn’t hear what Mingyu said but you noticed that his eyes stayed on you the whole time he told Santa his wish, and his expression was scarily serious. 

Santa nodded. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said seriously. He turned to you. “And what do you want for Christmas?” 

You knew that you were supposed to say something dumb that any adult would say. Or you were supposed to ask for something a kid would ask as as joke: Oh I’m still waiting on that Easy-bake oven. 

But any joke that was going to leave your mouth died on your lips. 

“I just want him to believe me,” you whispered softly. Your eyes flickered to Mingyu’s worried that he could hear you. Honestly, his serious expression didn’t tell you if he had heard or not, but regardless Santa pulled back. 

“I think I’ll be able to deliver on those Christmas gifts,” Santa said, sending a wink towards Mingyu. “Now why don’t we smile for the camera? Say Merry Christmas!” 

After Korean BBQ, the next destination was Grand Central Station for the Holiday Market. 

Again, you were taken aback by just how majestic the building was. Despite how people brushed into your sides, and how many different vendors there were to go look at you were completely awed by how large Grand Central was. The room was easily five times larger than you thought it was going to be. 

A giant, beige atrium with huge windows and wreaths scattered across the walls. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t have gone into architecture?” Mingyu asked in amusement as he dragged you through the terminal. “You aren’t even paying attention to the venders.” 

You gave him a serious look. 

“I’m seriously wondering that as well.” 

It surprised you how much Mingyu was paying attention to you. He made sure not to wander away from you in the market. Noticed when you rushed away to look at something. He even made sure you didn’t miss a booth he knew that you would love. 

Mingyu had always been like this… Always known you so well.  

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” you exclaimed, your shoulder brushing against his. As soon as you made contact you shifted your body so that you were no longer touching. “This is so exciting.” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes lightly. 

“I never saw what you saw in that show,” he murmured. You ignored him and rushed over to the bar. You waved over a bartender, sliding them your ID and your card. 

“Can you open a tab? I think I would be remise to not start with the Naked Man,” you said excitedly. You nudged Mingyu. “And let’s see... A Gay Pirate or a Daddy’s Home for my friend here?” 

“Seems like a Gay Pirate sort of guy to me,” the bartender commented, a laugh left your lips, but it only made Mingyu grumble. 

“A Daddy’s Home,” he insisted. “Trust me. Under different circumstances I would be able to prove with this one alone that a Daddy’s Home suits me more.” 

Your face blazed red. 

“Naked Man, and Daddy’s Home,” you replied quickly, desperately not wanting Mingyu to elaborate on his comment. “We’ll be sitting over there.” 

You dragged Mingyu over to one of the booths, only to be shortly followed by your drinks. Both of your drinks, of course, being references to some of the ways that one of the characters, Barney, would pick-up girls. 

“Remind me again...” Mingyu said. “The Naked Man?” 

“When a date is going bad you ask to go up to their place to use the restroom- or any excuse really to get into their place. Then when you two are in separate rooms you strip naked and surprise them.” 

“And the show is claiming people will actually sleep with you after that?” 

“It has a two-thirds success rate,” you replied. Mingyu laughed incredulously.  

“And Daddy’s Home?” 

He gestured to his own drink. 

“Barney has so much rizz he can just walk up to a girl and say those two words to her, and she’ll be in his bed.” 

“No way,” Mingyu said, his body shaking with his laughter. “How could I possibly forget that?”  You leaned close to Mingyu, giving him a seductive expression. 

“Daddy’s home.” 

Mingyu laughed at your bravado and got up from the table. 

“You got me, I’ll be in your bed tonight,” he jested. “I’m going to get another drink. What should I get this time?” 

“Oh, I have the perfect drink you should get a..... Wait for it...” You paused just like Barney would in the show and then after a few silent moments you concluded. “Wait for it, the drink. It’s a drink.” 

Mingyu laughed at your antics. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back with a wait for it.” 

You nursed the drink in your hand as you looked around the somewhat familiar bar. As you sat there your phone began to go off. Your eyebrows scrunched and you raised your phone to your ear. 

“Hansol?” 

“Hey,” Hansol replied, clearly shifting the phone. “Are you and Mingyu fucking yet? Is this a good time?” 

“I know full well that you have me on Find My. You know that I’m at a bar right now.” 

Hansol laughed. 

“How’s New York?” 

“Beautiful,” you murmured. “Amazing.” 

You sighed. 

“Mingyu has been... He’s keeping my itinerary!” You exclaimed. Hansol’s confusion was heard through his voice. 

“What?” 

“Remember when we were first planning the trip?” You replied. “He kept my original plans. We went to see Beetlejuice yesterday and today we went to see Santa Claus at the Empire State Building!” 

Hansol was quiet on the other side of the line, so you sighed. 

“Yeah... I know.” 

“Do you?” Hansol asked. “Do you really know? Because it seems to me like you don’t realize just how stupid you are being.” 

“Nothing’s happening,” you insisted softly. “You’re being so dramatic. Everything has been normal. Just like we are two friends in New York City for a weekend.” 

“Yeah, nothing romantic about New York at Christmas,” Hansol agreed. “It may be fine right now but sooner or later you two are going to start getting to that point where the friendship is so comfortable it feels like your relationship all over again and then...” 

“The breakup is going to come back up,” you whispered. 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” You looked up and as you did Mingyu was standing there, setting his drink on the table. His eyebrows rose slightly, and you pointed at the phone, mouthing Hansol’s name. Mingyu nodded and sat down. “All I know is it’s been a good weekend. And look, I should be going.” 

“Mingyu’s back isn’t he?” Hansol asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me hold you for just a little longer,” Hansol said. “Dasom is going on a trip too so it’s just me for the holiday’s.” 

“What?” You asked. “What about your mom? Sofia?” 

“They’re travelling so we’re not having Christmas until the 27th.” 

“Ah gee, I’m sorry,” you said softly. “You should come here. You could hang out with Mingyu and I.” 

“I do not want to be there when whatever you and Mingyu have going on goes up in flames,” Hansol replied. “Just think of calling me a bit this weekend. Send pictures.” 

“For sure,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t have come if I had known.” 

“It really is okay. Talk to you tomorrow?” 

You nodded and Hansol sighed. 

“Tell Mingyu I say hi.” 

“Okay. Bye Hansol.” 

You hung up the phone, shooting Mingyu an apologetic smile. 

“Hansol’s really worried about me,” you explained softly. You let that sit and then realized what you had said. “Not really of you or anything... It’s just he’s worried I’m going to get my heart broken.” 

You noticed that it didn’t get better the more you said. 

“Why would you be the heart broken one?” Mingyu asked. “I was the one who got cheated on.” 

Your lips pressed together uncomfortably, and you tried to think of a way to change the topic but you didn’t have to. Instead Mingyu tipped his drink towards you. 

“Yn. You should catch me up on what you’ve had going on,” he encouraged. You stared at him, suspiciously you’ll admit, and it made him sigh. 

“This is your bar isn’t it?” Mingyu pointed out softly. You looked down at your drink. “Let’s have fun? Like your tv friends. Tell me what you’ve had going on!” 

At first, you just told Mingyu little things. Tried to talk more about others than your life, but that didn’t work for very long because it was Mingyu you were talking to, and he knew you. Each time he made you laugh, or reminded you of some stupid inside joke you two shared it made your heart ache a little more. You didn’t mean to drink much... You really didn’t, but how could you not drink when all you could think was that eventually this was going to end. And come December 27th, you were going to be alone all over again, with Yoon Jeonghan trying to convince you to sleep with a stranger at a bar. 

And so, it wasn’t really all that surprising, that by an hour in you were completely wasted, and while it was surprising that Mingyu would ever actually be drunk, considering the amount at which you had been watching him dunk back drinks it made sense that he was in fact drunk. 

And, considering the way the conversation had turned... You knew that you both had to have been completely wasted to be joking about the fact that you had cheated on him. 

He laughed, but you could hear your heart thudding in your ears. You waited for the blaming to start again, waited to have to fight for your life trying to convince him that you hadn’t cheated. 

In fact, the sentence was on your tongue- 

“Unless... You didn’t cheat on me,” he continued. Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. You couldn’t let your hopes get up. It had been too long since the breakup. He had probably stopped thinking about you months ago. There was no way that he had even come close to thinking that maybe you didn’t cheat on him. 

“Mingyu what are you talking about?” You asked. 

“The weirdest thing about our break up was probably the fact that I thought I knew you,” Mingyu said. “One thing that I had always taken for granted was that I could read you. I always knew when you were lying or telling the truth.” 

You let a small smile flicker across your lips. 

“God that was so frustrating,” you agreed softly. “I couldn’t lie to you if I wanted to.” 

“So how did you hide an affair from me?” Mingyu asked. You sighed, resting your head on your hand. 

“Do we really have to talk about this?” You asked. “It’s not going to get us anywhere.” 

“Just answer the question.” 

There’s nothing to answer,” you replied. “I didn’t hide an affair because I didn’t cheat on you. I don’t even know who the guy is that I supposedly cheated on you with!” 

“He’s one of Dasom’s friends,” Mingyu replied. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Wait one of Dasom’s friends-”  “You just... Even with all the proof laid out for me it doesn’t make sense.” 

Mingyu set down his drink and the now empty glass clicked against the table. 

“Can we not talk about this?” You asked Mingyu. “I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“I know you didn’t cheat on me,” Mingyu said finally. 

You looked at him, and your eyes drifted down to his drink. You wanted to be able to blame the alcohol on his words but he had barely drank anything at all. 

You thought maybe you hadn’t drank enough so you dipped the rest of your drink into your mouth. Your nose scrunched at the burn. 

“No you don’t,” you said. 

“I do,” Mingyu reasserted. “Look... I just-” 

He interupted himself to let out a frustrated noise. 

“When I saw those texts on your phone I felt so betrayed. I thought I knew you? I had already had someone telling me that you were cheating. They just pointed out some of your behaviors and claimed it was weird so there was this seed in my brain. And then I told Soonyoung about it...” 

He hesitated and glanced at the bar like he needed another drink. 

“Texts are so definitive and so I just cut you off. Soonyoung told me that was the best idea. You could convince me it wasn’t true and we knew it was, but... I know you.” 

“You don’t know me,” you negated.  

“I do and the whole time it felt wrong, and I have been scrounging for any excuse to get in contact with you again because you would never cheat on me.” 

You felt something warm and wet slide down your cheek and you immediately reached up to wipe the liquid away. There was no way Mingyu knew what he was saying. He couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant. 

“I do mean it,” Mingyu insisted. “Today only reminded me that having you in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me and I was stupid to cut you out without hearing you out.” 

“You were just protecting yourself.” 

“But it’s you,” Mingyu emphasized. He reached across the table and took your hands in his. “Will you date me again?” 

“Mingyu...” 

“I know that leaving you hurt you, and I promise to never do it again,” he insisted. “In six months, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve typed your number in my phone a million times. Soonyoung has taken all communication devices away from me when I was drunk countless times.” 

He squeezed your hands comfortingly. The only problem with that being that now you couldn’t stop the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

“Communication and trust are the two most important things in a relationship,” Mingyu continued. “I trust you, and I promise this time I will do nothing but communicate with you.” 

He made sure your eyes were on his for this next part. 

“I love you. Please come back to me.” 

You had to pull your hands away from Mingyu at this point because you were full on sobbing. Your hands covered your face as you rapidly wiped tears from your cheeks, only for them to immediately be streaked all over again. 

After only a few moments of your constrained gasps and hiccups you felt someone slide in beside you and muscular arms wrapped themselves around your body. You didn’t care to fight it anymore. You didn’t care what Hansol had to say about it. 

You turned into Mingyu’s body, letting yourself soak his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out. One of his hands fell on your head. 

“For what?” He whispered. 

“For not being strong enough to protect you,” you mumbled. Mingyu laughed. 

“You’re the last person I need protected from.” 

When you had finally stopped crying you and Mingyu made your way back to the hotel. You were mostly quiet, your heart racing in your chest, both from the thrill of Mingyu’s confession and the uncertainty of what you really should do. 

Once you two had laid down you waited until his breathing evened to sneak out of bed and call Hansol in the hall. 

“Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning?” 

You completely ignored Hansol’s tone of voice. 

“You were right,” you mumbled. A surprised tone left Hansol’s side of the phone and you heard shuffling like he was sitting up in bed. 

“What happened?” 

“Mingyu confessed to me. He told me he loves me. He told me he believes me.” 

Hansol was quiet for a moment. 

“And?” 

“I believe him,” you replied softly. You heard Hansol let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I knew that this trip was only going to end one way,” he mumbled. 

“Well, is it a bad thing?” You blurted. “He loves me! I love him!” 

“But that doesn’t take away those messages on your phone.” 

You sighed. 

“But he trusts me. Text messages or not, he believes that I didn’t cheat on him.” 

“I mean if he really does feel that way, than that’s enough.” 

And there it was. The reason you called. The words you wanted to hear.  

“It’s enough,” you agreed.  

“But if he doesn’t feel that way...” Hansol started and you groaned. 

“But he does.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hansol bit back. “I mean, what is going on with you two anyways? Weren’t you at a bar earlier-” 

“Well-” 

“And now, what? You are two exes, who just had an extremely romantic day in New York City at Christmas. Remembering the good old days, thinking about how Mingyu even smells the same way you remember him-” 

“He-” 

“And then you two go get drunk, high on the thought that Mingyu loves you, and what’s going to happen next?” 

You felt frustration bubbling inside your hazy brain. Because you wanted Hansol to be wrong. He was so stupid. Because Mingyu didn’t just say things. He didn’t just say he loved people. If he said it he meant it and... He had never said something drunk that he hadn’t meant to say... 

“Shut up Hansol.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

“You’re not rght Hansol, you’re wrong and you’re stupid and shut up,” you blurted out angrily. There was silence between the two of you. The silence in which you recalled just how drunk you were. Just how sad you were because you wanted everything that Mingyu had said to be true. You wanted him to be in love with you. 

“If he believes that you didn’t cheat, that’s enough,” Hansol said finally. Your fingers tightened on your phone. It was like he had hit rewind. 

“It’s enough,” you agreed firmly. 

You and Hansol were silent for a few moments, and then he sighed. 

“Did I say what you wanted? Can I go back to sleep now? Not all of us are on vacation you know.” 

A smile spread over your face even though you knew that Hansol didn’t really think it was enough. Even though you knew that it wasn’t enonugh. 

“Yeah, thanks Hansol.” 

Hansol grumbled back a you’re welcome and the connection promptly ended. You pressed your back against the wall of the hotel hallway and sighed, looking down at the carpet beneath your feet. 

Not a stain in sight. Mingyu had really done too much. 

Your heart skipped a slight beat. He had always been like that though. Spoiling you. 

It made warmth spread in your chest to think that this whole trip had been a plan to get back together for Mingyu. He wasn’t just being nice, he had planned this. Everything was done perfectly, purposefully to remind you both what it was like to be together. 

As you stood there thinking about Mingyu, the door to the hotel creaked open and Mingyu’s head popped around the corner. You stared at each other silently for a moment, a smile crossing his lips while your face reddened. 

“Hansol’s on our side now?” He asked, his hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. You stared at Mingyu for a moment, his words going over your head. You watched the water drip down his neck, and you noticed that where a shirt should be there was the collar of a fluffy white bath robe. 

You swallowed hard. 

“I thought you were a sleep,” you replied. He shrugged and pressed the hotel room door open further, and with that you caught sight of his whole body. No shirt... No pants... His white robe tied loosely around his waist barely concealing anything at all. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hand raising to caress your cheek. Your face burned even darker as he grew closer to you. 

“You always hated it when I kissed you right after drinking,” he mumbled. 

“Because you tasted like bad beer,” you replied, your nose wrinkling. Mingyu chuckled. “But you... You brushed your teeth.” 

Mingyu took that as all the approval he needed. He closed the distance between the two of you dragging you into a deep kiss. You felt yourself pressing closer to him as you two kissed, you raising your own hands to his cheeks to keep him as close as possible. 

God, it had been so long since you kissed someone, and you missed the feeling of needing someone’s lips on yours as much as you needed to breath. And as you two kissed your whole body began to burn. 

Mingyu walked you back a bit, pressing you into the wall. His knee settling between your legs. His hands brushed further back on your head, one of them lowering down to your neck, his thumb brushing the base of your throat as his other hand tugged lightly at your hair. 

You whimpered into Mingyu’s mouth involuntarily and you shifted your own hands to Mingyu’s wet hair. It was so slick, and he was so warm and this hallway was so cold. 

Mingyu’s hand began to make its way down your body, sliding down your sides, growing closer to a spot in which you really wanted Mingyu to touch you. 

And of course, with the worst timing ever that was when you heard the door click behind Mingyu. You, regrettably, pulled away from him. 

“Mingyu, did you bring out a key?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows rose. 

“You didn’t?” 

“I left the door cracked!” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh and his warmth escaped you. 

“I’ll go downstairs and get a spare key from the front counter.” 

You nodded. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

You thought about standing in the hall alone for a minute. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

When the two of you got back into the room, your body was still burning now partly with jealousy because the lady at the desk was about as distracted by your wet barely clothed ex-boyfriend as you were. And that had made you drag him back to your room, and that had meant Mingyu’s hand was on the back of your neck the entire rest of the trip back up. 

But the second that door was closed, and you stared at Mingyu with wide kiss me, fuck me eyes, he was groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Y/n, you need to go to sleep,” he said softly. Your disappointment was clearly expressed on your face. He groaned again. 

“You don’t even know how badly I want to...” He let out a small laugh, his eyes flickering across your body. “But not like this... Not drunk. Not exes. Not without knowing that you want me too... So you need to go to sleep.” 

You resisted the urge to scream because when did men get so smart and emotionally intelligent. You nodded. 

“I’m going to take a shower first.” 

And when you got back out, Mingyu was already pretending to sleep, a wall of pillows piled in the middle of the bed. 

- 

Despite going to sleep so late, you and Mingyu were still up early enough to go to Pershing Café, and get some of the best, most fluffy pancakes that you had ever had in your life. After eating, Mingyu gidily asked you if you remembered what was next on the itinerary- you didn’t. 

At least you didn’t until the two of you were holding pairs of ice skates. 

This trip hadn’t felt real when you had planned it. Sure you had written up the perfect itinerary, meeting Santa Claus and going to a tv show bar, but regardless it had never really felt real. So standing with Mingyu in the center of Rockefeller Square? 

Well, you briefly forgot how to breath. 

Mingyu was acting so casually about everything, as if the Christmas tree that loomed over the square wasn’t the biggest you had ever seen, and as if ice skating at Rockefeller Square wasn’t something that you had dreamed about doing. As if, he hadn’t drunkenly confessed he still loved you the night before. As if you hadn’t almost let him fuck you. 

“Come on,” he said, laughing at your dazzlement. “If you never get your skates on, we’ll never get on the ice.” 

You nodded and sat down next to him, but you weren’t able to do much because as soon as you were down Mingyu was on his knees in front of you.  

If when you had woken up this morning you had been under the impression that your conversation at the bar hadn’t happened, that thought was nearly immediately banished from your mind, because everything about the way that Mingyu was treating you today, screamed that he was trying to win you back. 

Your face blazed in embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” you hissed. “What are you doing?” 

“Helping you put your skates on,” Mingyu replied innocently. Before you could protest more he was slipping your shoes off, and replacing them with the clunky ice skates. 

His indifference to the situation didn’t make you any less embarrassed, and the girls looking over and cooing in envy at the sight of the two of you did make you more embarrassed. 

“Mingyu, I’m not a princess,” you protested, but you let him tie the shoes regardless because who were you to try and convince Kim Mingyu not to do something when he was determined. Mingyu just smiled up at you, as if he could read your thoughts. 

“But I can still treat you like one.” 

He stood up and held out his hand to you. 

“Come on, you’re good at ice skating, right?” 

You and Mingyu had never been on an ice-skating date before, and it wasn’t because you were afraid of the cold or the ice. It was because you knew that if Mingyu went down, you were going down too. You had no clue whether Mingyu would be good at ice skating or not. He could be amazing at it but he could also be absolutely terrible and either way you wouldn’t bat your eye. 

You had sort of secretly figured you would be better than him at it. 

You had sort of secretly figured wrong. 

Mingyu insisted on holding your hand. Of course, he did, considering all the other couples were doing so and the part of you that wanted to remind him that you two weren’t together anymore (thanks to him) couldn’t say it when you saw the look in his eyes.  

And thank god he did end up quietly convincing you to hold his hand because you couldn’t stay upright to save your life. While you would have fallen if Mingyu went down, Mingyu was as stable as a wall as you tumbled to the ground. He just laughed, slowed to a stop, peeked down at you: “Are you okay?” And lifted you up off the ground like it was nothing. 

It was humiliating, really, how much time you were spending sitting on the ice versus skating on it, but seeing Mingyu’s radiant smile and hearing his infectious laugh every time you fell made you not even care about the bruises you would surely have later. And it made your heart yearn because the thought that this might be one of the last times you ever hold Mingyu’s hand hurt worse than any fall. 

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Mingyu said after about an hour. You had gotten a bit more control of your balance at this point and you were skating just as good as the five-year-old that had just gotten here. 

“Tired of picking me up?” You managed to get out in a teasing tone because now your arms, your heart, and your ego had been bruised in one short hour. 

“No,” Mingyu laughed. “Your nose is just red from the cold, and if I remember right the next thing on our itinerary is hot chocolate.” 

- 

“This, is a marshmallow shop.” 

“A marshmallow shop with some of the best hot chocolate in New York City,” you replied pointedly. You looked along the wall at all the bags of the different types of marshmallows. You couldn’t help the way that you were practically drooling. Squish Marshmallows had a variety of different marshmallow flavors: Rocky Road, peanut butter and jelly, tea and scones. 

“What could tea and scones even taste like?” You asked excitedly. Mingyu seemed just as intrigued as you did. 

“We can’t just get hot chocolate here,” Mingyu said, practically bouncing as he spoke. A complete 360 from his initial reaction upon seeing the store. “I never knew that I needed cookie dough marshmallows in my life, but now I know I do.” 

You laughed as Mingyu led you up to the counter, remembering what it was like to have Kim Mingyu match your energy.  

First ordering two cups of hot chocolate, both with your choice of marshmallow, and then ordering a variety of the different flavors for you two to try. You had to stop him after back tracking to get more than two of each flavor: 

“But what if we like them all so much we want more?” 

“Think about the calories Mingyu.” 

“What is the point of vacation if I’m thinking about calories?”  

“So, how long have you been planning this?” You asked softly. “Like, really.” 

“Thinking of what? Getting you back?” You didn’t respond so he mulled over what you had asked. “I think I was upset for about a month before I started to think about you. Like really think about you.” 

You two wandered around the Union Square Holiday Market, him stopping at a booth with little yarn bracelets. 

“I thought about what our relationship used to be like. Like I remembered you letting me come over after you got out of classes because I hadn’t gotten to see you all day. I remembered that you let me keep you up until five even thought you had an eight am.” 

Mingyu picked up one of the bracelets up, showing it to you: “Is this still your favorite color?”  

Your heart was pounding in your throat so hard that you couldn’t even open your mouth to answer. You just nodded. Mingyu smiled down at the bracelet, nodding slowly. 

“Real,” he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. Before you could even realize he was doing it- Mingyu was buying the bracelet, and handing it straight to you. 

“So I already missed you and that was when I got an email reminder that I had booked this trip. And that is when I started to plan this.” 

Of course. 

“Months,” you mumbled softly, your fingers picking at the bracelet Mingyu had just given you. The bracelet that had been next to so many in a similar shade of the one in your hand. A bracelet that Mingyu had skimmed over a few times while he looked at the bracelets before finally setting on that one, that one perfect one. Because this wasn’t just your favorite color, it was near perfect to the exact shade down to the color code that you liked. 

How could he have remembered something like that about you? 

“Mingyu do you know how crazy it is to have been planning to convince me to go on a trip to New York city with you before... I don’t know, asking me to grab coffee with you and talk through our break up?” 

The question irritated Mingyu. 

“What do you expect? Me to sit you down in some coffee shop that will make me want to bang my fist into the wall and ask you if you cheated on me?” He asked you. 

“Well what do you expect?” You shot back at him. “What conversation do you think we will have in New York City that we wouldn’t have in that stupid coffee shop?” 

Mingyu’s nostrils flared a little bit. 

“Did you cheat on me?” He asked you. 

“No,” you pressed. You two were quiet before finally Mingyu pointed at a stand behind you, adorned in fancy lanterns, the green roof only a bit taller than him. 

“And do we have a lantern stand at your coffee shop?” He asked you. He pointed at the booth next to it. “Or a caricature stand?” 

Your eyes narrowed at Mingyu. 

“How do two people fight in New York City y/n?” 

You wanted to point out that technically, this was a fight. That no amount of christmas lights or kids walking past the two of you would make this not a fight.  

“New York City doesn’t make me love you again,” you said softly. A flash of hurt went through Mingyu’s eyes. 

“But New York City can make you fall back in love with me,” Mingyu replied. Your fingers twitched at your sides because it was hard enough to be in love with Mingyu and have to pretend you weren’t because this was all so stupid. The kind of stupid that only you and Mingyu could possibly have gotten caught up in. 

But instead, you leaned into what Mingyu had been trying to say earlier. 

“Are those... Are those not the most beautiful wooden ornaments you have ever seen?” You asked him, pointing behind him. When Mingyu didn’t respond, you pressed the issue. “No, Mingyu, these are so beautiful I think actually that your mom would love one.” 

The atmosphere between the two of you quickly evolved back into what it had been before, and that was perfect and just in time for the next item on your docket. 

“Street dogs!” You said excitedly rushing up to the carnival-esque hot dog stand on the side of the road. You bounced at the edge of the stand, waiting patiently for Mingyu to join you at your side, your eyes focused on the red and yellow sinage before you.  

“Nathan’s famous,” you said excitedly. “This is the next thing on the list right?” 

“Right you are,” he replied pointedly. “And after this George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker. Balcony seats.” 

You gasped, and you didn’t know why you were even surprised at this point. You slapped your hand against his chest. 

“That’s too expensive,” you insisted. 

“I figured we could spare a buck or two with how much money we’re spending on our meal before hand,” he replied, his tone high with jest. 

“You know that you’re crazy for this right?” You asked Mingyu.  He smiled down at you, still completely unbeknowst of the sullen mood that had suddenly overcome you. “I’m serious.” 

You shifted your wait and gestured, frustratedly at the New York City streets as if they had done something to offend you. 

“You can fool me with the other things. The plane ticket, the hotel room, even the broadway tickets- Which by the way I know you can easily just resale,” you stated pointedly. “But tickets to the Nutcracker?” 

“I’m not trying to hide anymore the fact that I made this trip happen,” Mingyu said, and his tone was still airy while yours was drowning in your own frustrations. “And whether or not my very brillant plan works, I will not regret the money I spend on this trip.” Your faced was painted in dismay. “And I will not regret the money I spend on these hot dogs.” 

“We are not dating,” you said back insistently. 

Frustration flickered across Mingyu’s face, while he was trying so hard not to fight. 

“Y/n, it’s just ballet tickets.” 

“You shouldn’t be spending money on the girl who cheated on you,” you stated bluntly. And again, Mingyu’s expression soured. 

“Y/n, don’t-” 

Someone suddenly bumped into Mingyu, causing him to inturn bump into you. His hands immediately went to your shoulders to help settle you. You two looked over at the person that had bumped into you two and it was curiously enough a Santa. He gave you an apologetic expression. 

“I’m so sorry to bump into you two,” he said softly. He let out a small but hearty laugh. “But it seems that you two don’t mind too much.” 

He sighed, sounding a bit exhausted. 

“Young love...” 

“Oh it’s not-” 

“But, oh, you won’t hear me complaining that much,” he continued, ignoring your protests. “Even though Mrs. Claus and I have our ups and downs sometimes even after all these years she still makes me feel like a teenager all over again.” 

He laughed again shaking his head. 

Neither you or Mingyu knew what to say but you didn’t have to because after only a few moments you heard the sound of christmas beels ringing. He reached down and pulled out a pocket watch. He tutted when he saw the time. 

“I’m always late,” he said with a shake of his head. Then his eyebrows furrowed and he gestured to the two of you. “And don’t you two have a ballet to catch?” 

Mingyu suddenly snapped out of his trance. 

“Oh! He’s right, we’re going to be late,” He said. He rushed over to the hot dog stand that lucky had no line nad quickly bought to hot dogs for the two of you. He shoved one into your handd. 

“Come on, we’ve got to go.” 

- 

You couldn’t be mad at Mingyu for the amount of money he had spent on you for too long, because when you started crying during the Nutcracker and you reached over to grab Mingyu’s hand and saw that he was actually crying harder than you were you remembered one of Mingyu’s finer points. 

He was one of the most caring people that you had ever met. Mingyu never let a single person around him feel uncared for, unless they were an absolutely horrrible person. He was able to make connections with anyone and everyone. The kind of person who saw someone crying on a sidewalk, would stop to talk to them, and would actually be able to comfort said person. 

When you two had first met that had been the reason you didn’t realize at first he liked you. Because the whining for attention, the offers to carry your things, the middle of the night texts to come over and play video games and actually playing video games screamed not only just friends in your face but also treats everyone this way. 

But then he asked you out and you realized that despite the fact he was nice to everyone, that niceness was different when it came to you. So at first, maybe the first few months with Mingyu you were jealous. Jealous of every girl that he talked to. Even jealous of his friends. 

And then it hit you that there was something different about you. Something that made you stand apart to Mingyu from all the other people. 

And even though you couldn’t see it, that was enough for you. 

And it had always been enough for you. 

And despite everything that thing that Mingyu saw that set you apart from others had made him continue to think about you even after he thought you had cheated on him. And it had made him think through what had happened. And it had made him doubt. And that was enough for you. 

You two were walking through the Dyker Heights with him, your shoulders brushing as you looked at the extravagant colorful lights decorating the houses. Mingyu kept letting your fingers brush, and while he pretended to be looking at the lights you knew that the only thing on his mind was you. 

You were a bit tired of pretending. 

You finally intertwined your hands together, feeling the giant man perk up at the touch. You sighed softly. 

“To be honest, I want to be with you,” you whispered. Mingyu’s fingers tigethened in your grasp. 

“Really?” He asked you softly. You looked back over at him, his face illuminated in red and blue lights. 

“Of course really,” you mumbled softly. You let out a small laugh, but there was pain concealed in it. “I thought you knew me.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh with you. 

“I do know you,” he said. “Y/n, did you cheat on me?” 

“No,” you insisted quickly. “I didn’t cheat on you! I didn’t even think about cheating on you. I don’t even know who the guy is.” 

Mingyu stared at you, seeming to note the desperation in your voice. 

“I told you already he’s Dasom’s friend,” he replied slwoly. 

“She’s never even mentioned him before!” You blurted back, the frustration rising. “Surely when I was balling my eyes out about the break up and about how I didn’t even know who that guy was she would have thought to mention that it was her friend.” 

Mingyu stared at you, his face molding into one of confusion. 

“What did you say?” 

You didn’t know what he was confused about. 

“That I was crying over our break up?” 

He shook his head, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“No, no not that. You said Dasom was there when you were crying about your break up.” 

Your frustration simmered. 

“Well, yeah? She’s my friend.” 

“No she’s not,” Mingyu said bluntly. Your face contorted more. 

“What the fuck Mingyu? Yes, she is? You got Soonyoung in the break up and I got Dasom and Hansol,” you replied slowly. Mingyu let out a small laugh. 

“No, I got Soonyoung and Dasom in the breakup,” he replied. 

Jingle bells was playing in the distant background as you tried to process what Mingyu was saying. 

“You’re still friends with Dasom?” You asked. 

“Dasom was the one who told me that you were cheating on me,” he said insistently. Despite the fact that you two were clearly talking about something serious. You know the reason that you two broke up, Mingyu was now fully laughing now. You were still confused, and you furrowed your nose, turning your head a bit. 

“Mingyu I don’t understand.” 

“Dasom made everything up.” 

Before you could ask him what he was trying to get at, Mingyu was pulling out his phone. His phone started to ring, and he put it on speaker phone. When a small hello rang out- Dasom, Mingyu put a single to his lips. 

“Dasom, you were right.” 

As soon as Mingyu started to talk his joyous expression dropped.  

“Why don’t I listen to you more? You told me that y/n cheated on me back then. You told me that cheaters never change. You told me that I would get hurt all I over again but I still came to New York and-” 

He interrupted himself with a very convincing choked sob, that made you really think he was crying. You worriedly made eye contact with him, and at that he gave you the biggest, most radiant smile, you had seen on his face in a while. 

He was a psycopath. 

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry,” Dasom’s voice came sympathetically, and you noticed that with it her voice was rising. “It’s so hard to accept and notice when you are being used. But it’s over now then, yeah? You can finally move on.” 

“What is it that you always say to me?” Mingyu asked, his voice sounding broken. “That promise you always say?” 

“I’ll pick up the pieces that y/n broke,” Dasom said immediately, not even pausing in thought. “I’ll always be there for you Mingyu. I love you, and I can and will treat you the way that you deserve to be treated.” 

Again that smile broke out on Mingyu’s face. He gestured to his phone as if something huge had been revealed. 

“I have to go Dasom,” Mingyu said, his voice still sounding completely wrecked. “I just... I just can’t believe I let y/n break my heart again.” 

“Take all the time you need Mingyu.” 

Mingyu clicked to end the call, and then without even letting you process what the fuck just happened, he was grabbing your phone from you, unlocking it because you had never changed the password, and was dialing Dasom’s number. 

As the phone began to ring he shoved it back in your hand. 

“You’re heart broken, you don’t understand why I don’t trust you, and you need support from your friend,” he explained quickly. And then Dasom was picking up the call. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You don’t usually call me?” 

You didn’t give yourself time to think. You just did the one thing that you had wished Mingyu did six months ago, and blindly trusted him. 

“Dasom, I don’t understand. He still thinks... He still thinks that I cheated on him,” you said, your voice hushed. You made sure to take appropriate pauses, making it sound like you were having trouble speaking. 

“Y/n... Hansol and I told you that this trip would only end badly.” 

“But I don’t understand!” You exclaimed, your voice rising. “He told me all that time ago that he loved me, and then he doesn’t even believe that I don’t even know who the guy is I was supposed to be cheating on!” 

Mingyu was looking at you, very seriously, paying attention to every word. 

“Who even is that person?” 

“I don’t know y/n. We won’t ever know now will we? You both know now surely. You’re better off without one another.” 

And then, finally what Mingyu had been trying to insinuate. The thing that he had already somehow figured out, crashed into you like a train. Your heart skipped a beat, and for just a second the world slowed. 

And you last your chance at an Oscar. 

“Oh my god... You broke us up.” 

The phone call was silent for a few moments, and then Dasom spoke. Her voice scarily even. 

“What?” 

“You broke us up,” you said again, your voice rising. “The only person who could have had access to my phone other than Mingyu or Hansol was you. You put those texts on my phone. You played it out to be your friend to make your plan more convincing. You pretended to be both of our friends just so that you could fucking get Mingyu.” 

There was silence on the call as your brain continued to rush to catch up with your thoughts. 

“Because you’re in love with him.” 

More silence, and you looked up at Mingyu, not even realizing tears were streaming down your face. 

“You two are together... Aren’t you?” Dasom asked. 

“I thought we were friends,” you said, and you didn’t have to pretend that you were heart broken this time. You really were. 

“I saw Mingyu first y/n,” Dasom blurted with an anger that you didn’t even know that she had. “He loves you so much he was fucking blind. That’s not fair! It should have been me. I had to feed him so many lies, and convince Soonyoung that complete no contact was better just so that I could keep Mingyu from realizing the truth.” 

Her voice was shaking even over the phone. 

“But you two are both so fucking stupid. Who goes on a Christmas weekend trip to New York City with their fucking ex?” 

“Dasom-” Mingyu said, taking your phone from your hand. He turned the phone off speaker and turned away from you, his voice dropping a few octaves, so that you couldn’t hear what he said. And then, after about a minute of hushed conversation, your phone was being slid back into your hand. 

Tears streamed down your face, and Mingyu leaned forward, his thumbs brushing the tears off of your face. 

“Y/n...” He let you cry there. Brushing the tears off of your cheeks before they could drip all the way down your chin. Your body shook as you tried to comprehend the emotions you were feeling. 

The fact that Dasom had been lying to you for so long made you so completely upset. The fact that she was willing to manipulate you because of unrequited love hurt even worse. But then, you were in New York City at Christmas with the love of your life, and he had been so hard to manipulate that after six months her lies no longer worked. 

The tears slowly stopped streaming and Mingyu’s hands took your face in his. He leaned close to you, his nose brushing yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have trusted you. I should have completely and fully trusted you.” 

You didn’t say that you couldn’t have expected that from him. You didn’t tell him that you were both the victims really. Instead, your ears zoned in on the song playing in the distance. 

I really can’t stay... Baby, it’s cold outside 

A laugh erupted through your body. 

“This song is so creepy Mingyu,” you said. His lips flickered into a smile and he seemed to focus on the faint lyrics as well. 

“This evening has been,” he sang along with the words, taking your hands in his. “So very nice.” 

You laughed at him, but you let him start to drag you into a small little dance on the sidewalk. As you two drifted together, a few other couples began to do the same thing as you. Each of them pulling their partner close into a slow dance along with the melody of a frankly predatory song. 

And yet, as you looked up at Mingyu, all you could think about was how lucky you were for this trip. 

“Mingyu,” you said softly, your lips pulling up at the corners. “I don’t know if this is still on the table but if you wanted to go out again-” 

Mingyu interrupted you before you could finish, dragging you into a passionate kiss. You laughed against his lips, slapping his chest. 

“I was about to say that I don’t want to date you-“ 

Another kiss, and you were still laughing and pushing away from him. 

“I’m serious Mingyu I think we’re much better at being exe-“ 

He interrupted you with another kiss, and once he had properly stolen the breath from your lungs he was speaking. 

“Y/n we are awful at being exes,” he said lightly. “Exes don’t spend Christmas together in New York City.” 

You couldn’t hide the stupid gummy smile on your lips, and you couldn’t help nod along with him. 

“We truly are awful exes,” you agreed. “So I’m super glad that we are together again-” 

Mingyu smiled so hard you thought his face was gonna break. 

“We are together again,” he said gummily. “For our first date… Have you ever heard of a New York City Christmas Miracle Pop-up bar?” 

- 

Everything was perfect. 

As terrifying as it was to say so. The Miracle Pop-up bar was just as beautiful as Dyker Heights had been. The christmas lights were practically blinding, and the walls of the makeshift bar were lined in tinsel. When you looked up along with sparkling white snowflakes there were faux wrapped presents hanging from the ceiling. 

In the past you had wondered what kinds of lonely people went to a bar on Christmas Eve. But this Christmas eve? Your shoulder brushing Mingyu’s as he played pool against a different couple one from Texas, you understood that in New York City? A bar on Christmas Eve was just the place to be. 

When Mingyu had lost his pool game and needed comforting you two had found a somewhat quiet spot in the bustling bar and spent hours just catching up. 

You told Mingyu everything you had missed, all the people that you had met that you couldn’t wait for him to see. All the things that had happened you were sad he missed. All the work gossip about your coworkers that he still remembered every detail about. 

And by the time that you two were leaving the bar and you two were walking down the street, you didn’t think things could get any better. 

“Y/n it’s snowing.” 

Before you could stop him Mingyu had taken off down the sidewalk. He slipped a little on the exact thing he was excited about but he regained his balance almost immediately and then made his way into what looked to be a park. 

You laughed and chased after him- A bit more careful than he was though. You slipped anyways when you got into the snow-covered grass, and fell into a small pile with an audible oof. 

You were thinking that surely your heroic, white knight, boyfriend who you hadn’t really been around in six months would come running to your rescue but instead a cold pack of snow hit your face. You let out an astonished laugh, looking over at Mingyu. 

“Hey-” 

“Merry Christmas!” He called out, as if he hadn’t just thrown snow in your face. You scrambled to your feet, scooping up some snow in your own hands.  

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” you bit back. Mingyu must have seen the determination spread over your face and realized that he had messed up. He started to try to barter for his dry clothes but just as he started to talk a snow ball was hitting his face and it was over for you two. 

You were sure as the two of you made your way into the hotel, jackets wet and half off that all the attendants thought that you two were drunk, but as you two burst into your hotel room, absolutely freezing from the cold, you knew that there wasn’t a drop of alochol in your system. 

And remembering what Mingyu had said to you the night before you were glad that the two of you hadn’t drank at the bar. 

As soon as the hotel room door clicked behind you, you were being shoved against it. Mingyu’s lips on your lips, and his hands pressing your wet clothes off. You raised your hands to his head, pulling at his strands of hair as he tried to get your clothes off. 

“Y/n you’re so warm,” he mumbled against you, his head dipping to kiss the nape of your neck. You shivered. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t dragged me into-” As you spoke Mingyu’s fingers dipped into your pants, and without a second thought he pushed two fingers deep into you. “-The snow.” 

“No... You’re always this warm,” he said, his tone hushed. “Especially when I have my hands on you.” 

A whimper ripped through your body, and your fingers gripped desperately at Mingyu’s shoulders. 

“Oh Mingyu, fu-”  

“Where you with anyone?” Mingyu asked you softly, his expression zereoed in on you. You could barely think enough to answer because no you had not and it had been so long since anyone had touched you but yourself that you had forgotten how good it felt. 

And Mingyu wasn’t making it easier to answer. His fingers began to slowly push in and out of your pussy which had been soaked way before he had gotten you into this hotel room, but now it was to the point that you were almost uncomfortable. You wiggled under his grasp, trying to remember how to think or breathe but all you were thinking about was if Mingyu’s cock was as big as you remembered... 

Mingyu suddenly raised a hand to your chin, and he squeezed your face there between his fingers, forcing your face to look at his. 

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he said, his voice urging you to listen to what he was saying. Something about his words made that aching for his touch even worse. 

“I can’t talk right now,” you managed to get out. Mingyu didn’t stop slowly easing his fingers in and out of you. Not teasing you. No... He was stretching you out. BUt he was taking his time with it. 

You did not want him to. 

You began to desperately push at his shirt, trying to push it off his body. But when you realized you couldn’t get it off with his hand in your pants, you were trying to get his pants off instead. 

“I need you so badly Mingyu, I need you so bad.” 

Your words were a desperate whine at the tip of your tongue, and it made Mingyu laugh at you. 

“It’s been that long?” He asked you teasingly. You gave him a very serious look. 

“Six months is too long,” you said bluntly. His expression sombered a bit and he nodded. 

“Six months is too long,” he agreed. 

Without telling each other to, you both suddenly separated, began to rip off one another’s clothes. You two were, for once, almost as in sync as you two had been when you were dating. When you were struggling to get off your shirt, Mingyu stopped to help you rip it off. He paused to press a kiss to you and then immediately he had pulled away so that you could rip his shirt off, before the two of you were finally naked. 

Mingyu paused once his clothes were off, and your clothes were off. He was staring at you, with the look of someone who was so in love with you he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

But you didn’t need someone to look at you like he was in love with you right now. You needed someone to look at you like they needed to be inside of you. You pushed Mingyu back onto the bad, climbing into his lap as soon as he was there. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your lips against Mingyu’s in a desperate air sucking kiss. Mingyu happily let himself be dragged into it, and as you kissed him, his hands found your ass. 

“I wonder what all has changed in the last six months...” He whispered against your lips. You mostly ignored him in favor of grinding yourself down on his cock. Wanting it inside of you so badly you could scream. “Are you still into this?” 

His hand suddenly came down on your ass. You yelped, but it turned into a whimper that had your forehead pressing to Mingyu’s as you tried to keep yourself from sliding him into you yourself. 

That was answer enough for him. 

“Oh you are.” 

His fingers slid a bit, and slipped back inside of you. You whined at the stretch of his fingers because this time there were three. 

You rolled your hips down on Mingyu’s fingers, trying to force them deeper into you. Mingyu laughed. 

“Y/n, you’ve never been so desperate for cock,” he teased you lightly. Before you could respond his head had dipped and he had nipped a spot on you that had always been particularly sensitive. You slammed your hand over your mouth, letting out a sob of desperation. 

“And I see that I still remember that about you,” he mumbled softly. You wanted to hit him because now wasn’t a time for experimenting on what he remembered you liked and if you still liked it, but instead you pulled your hand away from your mouth and leaned back. 

“Mingyu, please, please, please,” you begged. “Cock, I need your cock.” 

You reached down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand. You had been dripping all over it, so once your hand was on it your fingers were sliding across its length with ease. You tipped it up a bit, and it hit your clit. 

Your forehead hit Mingyu’s. 

“Oh god, Gyu I need it now.” 

Mingyu’s fingers slipped out of you. 

“Whatever you need baby.” 

You couldn’t have lined yourself up with his cock faster. You started to push yourself down on him fast- But you quickly slowed down your pace because despite the three fingers inside of you, it was still a bit of a stretch. 

As soon as the tip of his cock was inside of you however, you had leaned forward, catching his lips so that you could hide your pathetic whines. But while the kiss did contain your whines and moans to a minimum, they did not conceal how badly you felt like you needed Mingyu right now. 

Because as you kissed him and lowered yourself down on his cock, your hands were all over his chest and his neck and his face, and in his hair, drowning him in a kiss that was so intense whenever you two had a chance to breath, you were gasping for air. 

And you didn’t slow down when you had gotten all the way down on his cock. In fact, when you started to fuck yourself on Mingyu’s cock you only started to sound more desperate. 

Your whine’s became nearly indistinguishable to moans, and your pace was inconsistent. Anytime that you felt like you just couldn’t fuck yourself on his cock anymore you were rolling your hips down on him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you, hearing his own whines escape his lips. 

“Y/n, if you keep this up-” His voice was broken. “I’m going to do something inside of you that I really shouldn’t do.” 

One of his hands tightened on your hips to slow you down, but you deterred that by grabbing both of his cheeks in your hands. You probably sounded a bit crazy when you blurted out: “Do it.” 

But it made a whimper escape Mingyu’s lips that made you feel as crazy as you sounded. 

“Do it Mingyu, fucking come inside of me, please. It’s been six months since I was even touched like this. I need it-” 

You interrupted yourself because you could feel Mingyu’s cock twitching inside of you and you knew that you had said enough. Your lips collided with Mingyu’s again, but his orgasm was ripping through him so intensely that he couldn’t even focus on that. So you just bit at his bottom lip, forcing yourself to keep fucking him as his cock spurted cum deep inside of your pussy. 

Your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair as your orgasm began to approach, but before you could hit it. Mingyu’s hands were stilling you. You cried out in desperation at the sudden stop, but before you could complain you were being flipped. 

Your back hit the bed, and Mingyu’s hands were on your hips again, pulling you close to him sharply. 

“I remember that you like this.” 

To be fully honest, he could have done anything to you and you would have liked it. But Mingyu pressed his hand down on your stomach and fucked you so hard that you were coming under him in mere seconds. 

Even if you had wanted to keep yourself together, you couldn’t have. You were making grabby hands at him as you came underneath him, so loud that you thought you would get complaints- Did people even make noise complaints in hotels? But Mingyu didn’t kiss you again until you had stopped shaking underneath of him. 

He stilled himself, burying his cock deep inside of you as he came all over again. As soon as Mingyu was close enough that you could shove him down onto you, you were. You two became a mess as you continued to kiss him like your life depended on it, and that kissin did not make the burning in the pit of your stomach go away. 

You flipped yourself back ontop of Mingyu, taking in the blissed expression on his face. 

“We’re going to make up for six months in one night,” you said suddenly, your hands pressing down on his chest so that he was still under you. Mingyu gave you a wide-eyed smile. 

“Whatever you say.” 

- 

When you woke up the next morning Mingyu wasn’t there. It felt like it had felt every single day for the last six months for about two seconds. And then Mingyu was leaving the bathroom, fully naked with a towel drying his hair like he was the main male lead. 

When he saw you looking his smile grew. 

“Oh sorry, did you want to take a shower with me.” 

Your face burned at the implication, and you looked over at the time on the clock on the nightstand. You squinted. 

“Where is breakfast today?” You asked him softly. He began to rummage through his luggage. 

“Here,” he replied. You heard him getting his clothes together, and you resisted the urge to look at him because it meant that you were going to want to stop him from putting those clothes on. 

“Then we don’t have a lot of time left,” you said with a soft groan. You let your head hit the pillow again. “Breakfast at hotels are too early.” 

Your eyes fluttered open in time to see Mingyu leaning down to kiss you. You couldn’t help the way you let yourself be physically pulled out of bed, chasing after his lips even as he pulled away. 

“If I could make breakfast stay open longer for you,” Mingyu promised lightly. 

“Even if you could,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “We have a schedule to keep?” 

“That we do.” 

Even though breakfast at a fancy hotel meant you weren’t the ones making your own waffles, they didn’t taste quite as good as the breakfast’s that you two had been having. Not that it really mattered. It was still breakfast. An amazing breakfast. With every food group, and Mingyu was picking food off of your plate, and it was enough to remind you of sleepovers in the past. 

And it made you unbelivably happy. 

After breakfast you two bundled back up, Mingyu wrapping your scarf around your neck as you shimmied in your shoes. And then you two were checking off just another one of your New York City wishlist boxes. 

Central Park. Central Park, covered in fluffy, white snow. 

It sounded a bit cheesy, but looking around at the ice sparkling on the tree limbs it reminded you of Narnia. With the old fashioned lightposts, and the pure emptiness of it all. Other than the random other couple, it was really just you and Mingyu there walking through the snow. Talking about good times, remembering the good times. 

“Mingyu, I can’t... I can’t emphasis enough how perfect this trip was,” you said softly. “I mean, even when we were planning it, this was a dream trip. The perfect trip. Everything down to the second.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly. 

“You did an amazing job planning it,” he agreed. You sighed. 

“But this trip would have been nothing without you,” you insisted. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “You mean everything to me.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly, his other hand fidgeting around in his pocket. 

“You mean it?” He asked you softly. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit. 

“Of course I do,” you said softly. 

“But do you mean it,” Mingyu asked again. “Outside of this. Christmas, and New York, and the memories of what we used to have. Can you really actually, honestly see a future with me.” 

You thought about your relationships prior to Mingyu’s, and you thought about what it had been like to be with Mingyu. Sure when you broke up with people before you had been sad, and you had been wanting them back, but yif you thought about it right now. If you put all those people back in a room together and they all told you that they were in love with you and that you wanted them back there was only one person that you could really imagine saying yes to. 

“I’ve always been able to see a future with you,” you said honestly. Mingyu’s lips flickered into a small smile. “But what about you Mingyu? You thought I cheated on you, how do you know those feelings aren’t ever going to come back?” 

Mingyu nodded slowly at your question, his eyes very briefly trailing away from yours. 

“Because it’s you,” he said. “Outside of New York, and Christmas, and missing you the person that I have wanted to spend my life with has always been you. Did you know that? Do you know how long I have known that I wanted to be with only you for the rest of my life?” 

You shook your head blankly. 

“Since Hansol first introduced the two of us,” Mingyu said. “I don’t know... I know it’s stupid to believe in love at first sight-” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit because of course he would say something dumb like this, and of course you knew that he meant it to his core, and of course it made your heart skip a beat. 

“But I think that the first time I saw you I knew that you were the one that I wanted to be with.” 

Mingyu leaned down to you, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your freezing nose. You smiled up at him, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Hey, look at that,” Mingyu interrupted. He pointed over your shoulder and you looked towards where he had pointed, wondering what was so important to him that he interrupted your moment. You stared into Central Park. At the snow, at the trees... You didn’t see anything. 

“Mingyu, what am I supposed to be looking for?” You asked him, a laugh in your voice because of course Kim Mingyu would have seen something tiny in Central Park that would completely distract him from the moment that you two were having. 

“Oh, nothing over there.” 

Your confusion grew, and you turned around and the sight before you made your heart promptly stop. For one... Two... Three... 

“Oh my god.” 

Mingyu was on one knee in the snow, his gloves discarded next to him in the snow so that his hands were out. He had a small box in his hands, open, showing off what could only be described as your dream ring. 

You took a step back, your hand covering your mouth. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Y/n I love you,” Mingyu interrupted, his eyes red as he looked up at you. “I’m sorry for everything these last six months, but I know now and have always known that no matter what I want you to be the person I spend the rest of my life with.” 

He nervously glanced down at the ring in his hand. 

“So much so that I bought this ring shortly after we started dating,” he said, a twinge of embarrassment in his voice. “And so much so that I never returned it. Even after we broke up.” 

His eyes flickered back up to yours, and he shrugged a little. 

“Six months is a really long time, y/n, and I never ever want to be apart from you for that long again.” He laughed. “So, if you could make me the happiest man-” 

You interrupted him before he could say the corniest most overdone sentence in the book. 

“Yes,” you blurted, surging forward so that you could wrap your arms around Mingyu. “Yes, okay, I’ll marry you.”  

You were laughing as your knees hit the snow, and as you grabbed Mingyu’s face and kissed him. And as he tried to take your gloves off of your hand so that he could slide the ring he had gotten you onto it. 

“This trip-” You asked hushedly, watching the ring slide onto your finger. 

“Was always meant to be the one that ended with you having a ring on your finger,” he said softly. He wrapped his hands around yours. “I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.” 

He was laughing. 

“But you knew I wouldn’t,” you whispered back. He nodded. 

“I knew you wouldn’t,” he agreed. He leaned in again, to kiss you and you let him. 

You couldn’t believe it the rest of the day. When you two got Chinese food in China town, or when you walked out onto time square you still couldn’t believe that you were now engaged. 

And a dark part of you thought for sure that when the two of you landed back home, things were going to be hard. But when you thought about that, and you looked at Mingyu all you could think was that every difficult moment would be worth it right by Mingyu’s side. And so in the end you didn’t really mind. 

-

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[wordbunch]

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked

a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰

ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.

BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.

FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it,  and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it. 

ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.

SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him. 

FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway. 

MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.

PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).

BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.

FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you. 

KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings ​​​​​​ @thesolarangel ​​​​​​ @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place

@valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency      @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3  @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts

#Lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings imagine #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #boromir x reader #faramir x reader #frodo x reader #samwise gamgee x reader #merry brandybuck x reader #pippin took x reader #bilbo x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #aragorn imagine #legolas imagine #boromir imagine #from my pocketses

[charliemwrites]

Part 2 of Neighbor!Johnny!

(Feeling a bit ✨naughty✨ this Christmas Eve so… here.)

After the fight with Ryan, you try to keep your distance from Johnny — keep the peace and all that. The more you think about the accusations your husband made… the more that guilty pit in your stomach grows.

It’s all been platonic, at least on your end. Sure, you let Johnny get away with a bit more than the average stranger, but he’s a good friend! Nothing you wouldn’t let one of your other friends do. (Even if you would find the lingering touches and general disregard for personal space a little strange from someone else.)

Sure, you have a suspicion every now and then that Johnny has more than platonic feelings for you… but they’re fleeting. Every time you worry that he’s about to cross a line, he always draws away from it. Evens out his smile, break his gaze, drops his hand. You’re close, that’s all.

But… if it’s bothering your husband. Well, you’re obligated to take that into account, aren’t you?

Even if you ache, missing your friend. Missing his silly little jokes, his cheeky grin. Miss his company while you do laundry, a helping hand in the yard, even just someone to chat with over podcasts and tv shows.

Hell, you miss hugs. Ryan’s never been big on… affection. Especially not in public.

(Barely in the house, either, really. You’ve tried talking to him about it. He swears he loves you, he just doesn’t show affection that way. You struggle to figure out why that’s so with you when he has no problem hugging his mother, sister, hell, even his secretary.

Actually… you struggle to figure out how he shows you affection. So you’ve stopped trying to figure it out at.)

But Johnny. Oh, Johnny is just so sweet to you. A hug when he greets you, a hug before he leaves. A kiss to your cheek when you hand him a drink or a snack. A hand on your hip when he leans past you to get things from high shelves. Nudges to your thighs during good parts of shows.

You miss it. Him. The friendship you’ve built in your too-quiet home, where the other neighbors seem to like your husband so much more than you.

“What’s goin’ on, hen?” Johnny asks one morning. You’ve been keeping coffee dates meetups on the porch. Which is almost worse, because it’s cold and you find yourself cuddling up to the heat he exudes like a furnace. “Hardly seen you in a month; miss my best girl.”

“Sorry, Johnny,” you sigh, rubbing at your face. Ryan’s been working late most days this week, comes in so late and wakes you up. “Just… Ryan, ya know.”

His jaw tightens, eyes flashing dangerously. You’re reminded suddenly, inexplicably, of just what Johnny does for a living. How often you’ve seen him just back home with blood still buried in his nail beds.

“Dinnae, hen,” he replies. “What about ‘im?”

You fidget, eyes on your half-empty mug. It feels wrong, admitting relationship quibbles to someone outside of family. You used to have a policy that marriage matters should stay within the marriage. But… it’s hard when it feels like you’re the only one working on the marriage. It’s a lot of work to do alone.

“He just… he doesn’t think it’s proper,” you admit, “how… how often you’re over. How close we are.”

“That so?”

You hunch your shoulders, feeling wrong. Feeling guilty for a whole new reason; for disappointing Johnny.

“Look at me, bonnie?”

He has to tip your chin up with his hand to get you to meet his eyes. His expression is softer than you expect.

“What about you, eh?”

“Me…?” You blink, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yer feelings are all I care about, hen.”

“Johnny,” you sigh, trying to reprimand, but sound more pleading instead. He shakes your head a bit, gently; his own reprimand.

“Answer me, bonnie.”

“I like spending time with you,” you whisper.

The corners of his mouth twitch up as he hums.

“‘Course ye do,” he hums, “‘n I like spendin’ time with you. It’s not fair of ‘im, is it?”

You blink, brows pulling together in confusion. Johnny continues, the thumb on your chin gently stroking.

“Not fair of ‘im to keep you all cooped up here, come home so late, neglect ye when he is around,” he coos. “And now he’s tellin’ you to keep away from your best friend.”

He tsks, that dangerous glint in his eyes again.

“Wastin’ his tongue for bullshite when he should be usin’ it to lick your pretty pussy.”

Your mouth drops open, shock and heat flooding you hotly. “Johnny!” You gasp, scandalized.

He finally cracks a grin again. “Tell me I’m wrong, bonnie, ‘m not! When’s the last time he worked you over the way you deserve, huh? When’s the last time he made you squirt all over your sheets?”

You shove at him and then cover your burning face, trying not to squirm. Can’t answer because it would be proving him right and you don’t want to encourage his scandalous teasing.

“Bet he’d try to make you change ‘em even if he did,” Johnny grumbles, shaking his head. “Disgraceful. You ought to be put to sleep on a nice, thick cock.”

Whack!

“Oi! What was that fer?!”

“You’re being a creep, Johnny!” Your stern tone in undercut by your embarrassed laughter. “Quit talking about my shitty sex life.”

“So it is shitty!”

“Shut up!”

When a discreet box shows up at your door two days later, you know exactly who it’s from.

…that doesn’t stop you from using the (shockingly detailed and realistic) dildo inside the packaging.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #neighbor johnny #merry Xmas you filthy animals #more like xxxmas #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish

[chronically-ghosted]

i crawl home to her

rating: 18+ explicit

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 8.2K

summary: you bring dieter home to meet your family over the holidays.

warnings/tags: discussions of food, mentions of weight gain, brief biphobia, bad family dynamics, hiding parts of yourself to make yourself more palatable, dom!Dieter when his type-A girlfriend needs him to, smut in places it shouldn’t be, a family can be two people, bad jokes, mentions of marriage and kids, one light booty smack, peep the super obvious bob's burgers reference, minimal edited, you can pry the image of dieter in ugg's from my cold dead hands

a/n: i've caved and finally added to the evergrowing pile of "Pedro boy fucks you in your childhood home". @sp00kymulderr i told you i'd get it out today -- it might be tomorrow for you, but it's not yet midnight! i present to you part 2 of merry thanksgiving nonsense2023!

🤍Masterlist

You nearly miss the exit off the gray-slushy highway because you’re trying to remember Aunt Gayle’s food allergies. 

And Uncle Rick’s preferred way of taking his coffee in the morning.

And the right detergent to use when washing your niece’s clothes, or else your sister will come after you with a hatchet. 

“Baby, you’re gnawing your fingernails bloody.” 

You blink, surprised to find your hand anywhere near your mouth, the other white-knuckling the steering wheel, and to your enormous embarrassment, he was right – you’d pulled up several hangnails, leaving tiny pink gouges, right under your immaculate holiday nails you got for the express purpose of looking presentable in all the inevitable Insta photos your sister demands every year. 

“Fuck,” you mutter and curl your fingers into your fist as if to hide temptation. From the passenger’s seat, Dieter frowns.

“Twizzler to make it better?” He spins the red, bendy candy enticingly. Your mind suddenly flashes back to the time you both got way too high on his new bong and he made the exact same motions with his dick. You had never laughed so hard in your life. 

The red candy whipping around in a circle, you groan into the steering wheel. 

“I’m turning around. This was a terrible idea.”

“What are you so nervous about?” Dieter half-way laughs. He pulls his Ugg-stuffed feet off the dashboard and sits up. Crumbs from the Starbucks Christmas sugar cookie spill off his “Kris Kingle My Jingle” sweater and onto the seat, but it’s those fucking earnest, curious eyes that always seem to rock your world. You occasionally don’t like to be touched when you’re stressed, so out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand waver before falling back in his lap. “It’s just dinner.” 

“Yeah, but it’s holiday dinner with my family. They’re all so judgy and mean and every time I come home for more than twenty-four hours, I’m reminded exactly why I fucked off to California.”

“Maybe they’re jealous you’re a hot shot director,” Dieter suggests. “Or that you have a ruggedly handsome movie star boyfriend.” Eyebrow raised, he twirls the Twizzler again and manages to bite it out of the air. You half-way expected it to smack him in the face. “They know I’m coming, right?”

You bite your lip, the last phone call with your mother still achingly heavy in your chest.

“You know what she asked when I told her I was bringing home the one and only Dieter Bravo as my boyfriend to meet my family?” You don’t need to look at him to see the furrow in his brow, the slight curve in his shoulders. You prop your elbow up against the window, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. “She asked if it was a career move. If I was dating you to get ahead in the industry . . . like I’m trying to sleep my way to the top.”

There’s a fraught silence. You listen to the wheels churn dirty black snow so you don’t have to look at him. 

“Then why in the world would you start with my dumb ass?”

Despite yourself and despite what’s coming, you smile. But you fight it, wrapping your lip up between your teeth. So he continues:

“If you really want to make it big, you gotta date someone at least forty years older than you. So, what? We’re talking seventy. But, wow, think of the money. Bet he has his dick dripped in gold just to keep it hard–,”

“Dieter!” You swat at him, smile too big to contain, and he grins, grabbing you by the wrist. “That’s terrible!”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

You smirk. “Barely. More like ha ha than a big chuckle.” 

He nips your palm, the rough hair on his chin scraping the soft skin. 

By some minor miracle and a forcible act of God, your mother is allowing you two to share a bedroom. Not out of respect for your relationship, of course, but there is simply not enough room to spare. You watch those perfect lips imprint themselves in the cup of your hand and you’ve never been more thrilled to have to share a double bed. God, you cannot be this wet before you have to look your mother in the eye. You retract your hand with a breathy exhale. 

“We don’t have to stay long,” Dieter says, a weight to his gaze that proves he hasn’t completely blown off your concern. He twists his body in the seat and crosses his arms, his shoulder pressed into the seat. He watches you with his head against the headrest. “I hate seeing you like this.” 

“I’m already on thin ice because we’re just staying two days.” You shake your head. “My sister and her family have already been there since Monday and plan to stay the rest of the week.” You inhale, hold, and exhale until you can feel your shoulders drop. “It’s just . . . I’ve worked so hard to make something of my life, to be someone I can be proud of, and it just doesn’t matter to them. They want me to marry a banker or something, and quit my job to do cutesy family blogging on Instagram. They’ve never, ever liked the real me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something come over Dieter’s face. Not annoyance, or irritation, but as if someone kick started his brain. But it passes and he brushes the back of your hand resting over the gearshift with his fingers. 

“I like the real you,” he says quietly. “In fact, I really, really, really like the real you. I gotta keep you around. Who else is gonna remember the name of the best Chinese food place when I’m high?” 

Dieter is sweet, knows the wonders his smile can accomplish, with a twinkle in his eyes. A bit crude, a little distractible, but ultimately, well-meaning. However, he seemed physically incapable of maintaining sincerity. Which in the beginning, was also cute, but now, in a moment of crisis, it was boyish in a way that made you worried. A little scared. Like too much pressure and he’d break.

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on? 

History says no. 

So, maybe you’d just carry everything. 

You smile at him and return your hand to the steering wheel.

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

The car squeals as it stops in the driveway, wheels crunching the cold ice. You look up at your childhood home with the same unease and trepidation that’s been there since childhood.

“Go let ‘em know we’re here,” Dieter says as he unbuckles his belt. There’s still crumbs in the knit of his sweater. At least his sweatpants are clean. But there’s nothing you can do about those Uggs right now– 

His hand squeezes yours, centering the universe that’s spinning like the inside of a martini shaker. You can feel the weight of his gaze press into your chest – heavy, warm, forgiving. He smiles, then slides into a smirk.

“Chillax, bro. Your vibes are not gnarly.”

You huff, trying to offer a smile that’s not a grimace. This was such a bad idea. Maybe it’s not too late to go pay for one of those mail-order boyfriends and keep Dieter in his nice California, hippie plastic wrap. 

You hear your name being called from the porch and that smile fully plummets into a grimace. Gathering from that reserve of confidence that makes you look at male writers, directors, and (yes) actors and tell them they’re idiots and get the fuck off your set, you open the door and head around the corner to the front of the house. 

Yeah, in the face of your mother, that reserve is basically a trickle.

She’s waiting for you on the porch, red dish towel in hand. 

“I thought that might be you, darling! I’d recognize that squeak from that rust bucket anywhere.” She smiles, arms wide, as you bend down to give her a hug. You've had to bend down to hug your mother for years now and you still feel about two feet tall. “How are you? You’ve been good? You look pale, but you’ve definitely been eating, haven’t you?”

She pinches your cheek as if to show you all the extra fat you have on your face. 

“Where’s Dad?” You try not to look like you’re tearing your face out of her grip and glance into the surprisingly quiet house over her shoulder. “Aren’t Emma and Dan supposed to be here?”

“Your father is out finishing his latest woodworking piece. He’s been at it for days, no matter how much I beg him to help with the food or the house. It’s all on me again to save the holidays.” 

As it is every year.

“Your sister and her family went out to get more sweet potatoes. They eat sweet potatoes in California, don’t they?”

Here it comes.

“Yes, Mom, they eat sweet potatoes.”

“Oh good, I thought it’d be considered a carb.” She frowns, hands on her hips as if you’re about to get a proper scolding. “Now you told me you’re going to be bringing your fancy actor boyfriend. Damian Bravado, right? I cooked for exactly seven people, darling, a single empty chair will throw the whole thing off!”

“Yes, Mom, my boyfriend, Dieter Bravo, is here. He’s just in the–,”

Someone, distinctly not your boyfriend, or at least not the boyfriend you left in the car, waltzes up the front steps.

Rings gone.

Earring gone.

Gloves that would make Ryan Gosling seethe with envy covering the tattoo on his hand.

His hair slicked back and curling deliciously around his ears, his dark jeans cover the laces of maroon Timberland boots. His black turtleneck clings to his wide chest, the leather jacket broken in enough to be soft, but not so used there’s tears in the seams. And, to top it all off, his cream-colored scarf curled around his throat looks like it came out of a Hallmark movie.

Maybe you are in a Hallmark movie. Maybe on the way up the porch, you slipped and banged your head and all of this is a bizarre, weirdly-erotic dream. Maybe someone actually did call in a mail-order boyfriend who looks exactly like Dieter and the real one is hog-tied in the trunk of your car. Maybe – 

You’d heard of quick costume changes, but this is ridiculous.

“Debbie!” He calls out, like they’ve been best friends for twenty years. He flourishes a wrapped bouquet of flowers, bright red against the white snow, and hands them to her after bouncing up the steps. His cheeks are tinged pink, as if he’d run the block, but without a drip of sweat on him, he’s simply glowing with what could be presumed as the holiday spirit. 

To your never-ending and horrific surprise, your mother squeals as she takes the flowers. 

“Poinsettias! My –,”

“Favorite, I know.” You stumble out of the way when he leans down and kisses her on her cheek. “And they’re fake, so you can reuse them next year. But you’d never know it at $300 a pop.”

Okay, yes, this is a clone of your boyfriend, a walking holiday Ken doll – Dieter never, ever brags about money. 

“I’m not a banker or anything, but I like to spoil my girls.” 

The bastard winks at you. 

Your mother has turned to gooey, drippy putty in his hands. She’s redder than the hand towel and the poinsettias combined. She flounces, flutters, eyes springing back and forth between the ruby-red flowers in her hands and Dieter’s achingly handsome face – one that hasn’t dimmed that thousand gigawatt smile since he first arrived. 

“Oh, oh my goodness – well, this is just lovely – it’s so nice to finally meet you – I can’t believe she’s been hiding you from us all this time – please, please come in, you must be freezing!”

She backs into the house, still staring at the flowers, then as if she hadn’t been living here for the past fifteen years of her life, she bounces towards the dining room, then on a quick turn, heads for the kitchen, then turns again to the hallway closet. 

“Oh gracious – where did I put – it must be – come in and shut the door behind you – you know where your room is, darling, I’ll be back in just a second, I just have to – ah, these are spectacular –”

A door down the hallway finally swings shut and muffles your mother’s insane rambling. 

So dazed, you don’t see him move until he’s pressed you up against the glass etching of the door, his hand palming your hip and the other diving to cup the back of your neck. He tugs you down into his mouth before you have time to blink.

Jesus Christ, mint? His breath smells like mint??

God, he even fucking kisses like a Hallmark Prince. His mouth pulls you into him and your brain whites out – careless of the little whimper you make, careless of the fact that literally any one of your family members could walk in right now, careless that you’re teetering into him as if on string. Your breath flutters down his throat and he huffs through his nose. The tips of his fingers are chilly enough that you shiver at his touch.

He edges the bottom of your lip with his tongue before pulling back and tightening his grip in your hair. 

And there’s that Dieter smirk you are all too intimately familiar with. 

“How’m I doing?” He mutters. His gaze flickers between your eyes, your nose, and your kissed-pink lips. “I’d say I got Mama Bear on my side.”

Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t always like this. Between the fresh breath scent in his mouth, the fragrance of his much-too expensive cologne permeating your senses, and his thick thigh shoved under your groin, you are embarrassingly boneless in his arms. You pluck your fingers over the soft leather collar at the back of his neck, just as much to inspect the jacket, as much as to release more of that delicious smell. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” You mutter, smirking, as you wind your fingers into his curls. “Spoil my girls, what the fuck was that?”

“Ah, ha, ha, ha,” he gloats as he lowers his head to your neck. You expect a warm kiss in the length of skin you’ve exposed to him, but instead his teeth lightly tease your throat above your pulse point and you feel your knees buckle as your face warms. “I can be very charming when I want to be.” He squeezes your ass as if to make a point. 

You hold back a moan, flattening it to a shudder in your chest. You can feel his grin in your neck and he shifts you, pulls you closer and compresses you deeper into the wooden door. You can feel your conscious thought melting through your fingers so you blink, lick your lips, try to wiggle out from under his teeth.

“This isn’t a Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. This is Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” You gasp his name into the foyer of your childhood home when he licks you from the curve of your shoulder up under the soft place below your ear. Your hips jerk unconsciously, baser instincts seeking out the friction of his jeans, and you push against his biceps. “Dieter, she’ll be back any minute. She can’t – can’t see us like this.”

You’ve never heard him chuckle like the way he does, so darkly pleased with himself.

“Once I’m done schmoozing her, your father, your sister and her – what did you call him – cardboard husband, we’ll fuck in front of them and they won’t say a word.”

“Dieter!” You shove him just as your mother returns from the kitchen.

She frowns and you feel the scolding coming, the scent of Dieter so obviously entangled in you. You might as well be wearing a sign that reads, hi, yes, I’ve been recently groped why do you ask?

“Did you forget where your room is? Honestly, what would you do without me? Now, follow me and I’ll remind you.”

Schmooze he did. 

From the same magical bag of weirdly specific and perfect gifts, Dieter presents a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon and two very illegal, but very Cuban cigars. Your father forgets to scowl in the face of some of the most expensive bourbon in the world. 

For your sister, he somehow senses that material objects won’t go as far, so he endears himself to your niece first. Asking her questions about her doll, about her school, what she likes to play with her friends and how crazy it is that hopscotch is his favorite game too. 

In twenty minutes, he’s on his hands and knees, black sleeves pulled up over his immaculate forearms, and etching out a hopscotch board with pink chalk. He nods and interjects while your niece runs around him, demanding a dragon in the corner, or a crown in another, and suddenly your biological clock starts blaring like an air-raid siren. 

“He’s so good with kids,” your sister mutters to you from the door to the garage. A single glance tells you she’s under the same effect of watching a hot man play with a child. You’re so aroused and confused you can’t even eye her with jealousy. 

“Mhmm hmm.” 

“When are you going to have some of your own?” 

And you’re back inside before you can see the look on his face as he lifts his head.

It would be insulting to call it eerie. 

It’s not like he’s physically incapable of smelling clean, or dressing nice, or even combing his hair. You’ve seen him do it time and time again for galas and interviews. Hell, that time he took you on a date to get sushi in the tallest building in Toronto, he didn’t look that much different from how he does right now . . . and yet . . .

You feel your face scrunch in suspicion when he remembers your aunt’s food allergies, how your Uncle Rick likes his after-dinner coffee. 

Dieter might forget to put on pants, but he’s never forgotten the important dates of your relationship. He remembers what you were wearing the first night you kissed, but can’t remember to take out the pizza before it burns in the oven. 

This, this Dieter, feels wrong. 

You watch him laugh with your father and uncle by the fireplace with brandy in his hands as you work with your mother and sister to unwrap a dozen saran-wrapped pies. He comes by later and takes the stack of plates from your mother’s hands and assures her he’ll do the dishes, as thanks for such a wonderful meal.

This Dieter Bravo needs a smoking jacket and uses words like “wonderful meal”. 

Initial surprise at his near magical transformation from the car this morning long gone, you sit with this uncomfortable feeling, as everyone around you eats pie and laughs and looks all the part of a fucking Hallmark card for “joyful festivities”, long enough to finally understand it for what it is:

Anger. 

Shame. Guilt. 

Hot embarrassment. 

You look at the man who’s invaded your boyfriend’s body as he charms the pants off your mother and father, and ugly, heavy embarrassment boils over in your chest. Washing the knife in your throat down with your fourth glass of wine all night, you excuse yourself with the last bit of breath in your lungs before ducking upstairs, then stumbling to your childhood bathroom you once shared, and share again, with your sister. 

You lock the door forcefully in lieu of slamming it shut and sit down on the tile, your head against your knees. Rationally, there’s a part of you that knows this shouldn’t affect you like it is. Women would kill for a boyfriend like this – your sister very nearly jumped him in the garage. 

But that’s just the thing – this isn’t your boyfriend. This isn’t the man you spend your days and nights with and this isn’t the man you fell in love with. This isn’t the Dieter you want to show the world. 

A soft knock comes from the other side of the door and it breaks you out of your self-deprecating spiral. 

“Just a second,” you call out as you stand. You flush the empty toilet (this night is filled with ruses after all) and twitch the faucet on for two seconds. But when you open the door, you’re immediately cowed back in. 

“Dieter, what are you–,”

“Are you okay?” Beneath the veneer of the Million Dollar Man, his eyes are soft, coaxing the anxiety out of you. “You looked pale when you left.” He tucks an escaped strand of hair over your ear, watching how his fingers brush up against your skin. He gently tangles his fingers in your hair as he pulls back. He smirks. “Mom’s dressing wasn’t that bad.” 

White-hot shame blooms again and you turn your head from him, tugging your hair out of his reach. You catch his hurt expression out of the corner of your eye. 

“I’m fine. Just needed some air.” 

“You’re not a good liar. I’ve told you that.” His voice is clipped. Not irritated, but not interested in lengthy bouts of misdirection either.

“Well, I don’t feel like bearing my problems to Mr. Perfect.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He crosses his arms, shoulders swelling in the space of the tiny bathroom, and he leans on the sink. 

“It means you’re a better liar than me so I guess you’ll have to do it for the both of us.” 

You know it’s ridiculous to try and move around him – but maybe this Dieter wouldn’t care if you left angry. Even sober, he could manhandle you without a second thought, but between the heat of the drink in your throat and he’s blurred at the edges, you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Dieter, please, just –,”

He stands his ground, effectively blocking the door, and you huff, pushing up against his waist with your hands, your teeth bared behind your lips. He steps back, you think you’ve won a mile, but then his hands grasp so firmly around your elbows, your entire consciousness is pulled into where his fingers curl against your skin.

He gently, but seriously, shakes you slightly.

“Stop fighting me. You tell me what I did wrong and we’ll talk about this.”

The past two weeks of dread, and fear, and worry, and shame – shame that this is your family, this is how you go to pieces around them, this is all you can offer him – slam into your chest and your breathing hitches. The fingers at his chest dig into his shirt. The fourth glass of wine makes your eyes hot and tight.

“This isn’t you.” 

You grimace in the bright light of the bathroom and your confession. But beyond your closed eyes, his demeanor hasn’t changed. 

“What’s not me?”

A tear slips out the moment you open your mouth, your throat closing and gagging on your words. You swallow and try again, eyes peeling open to stare at the curve of his shoulder. 

“You’re Dieter Bravo. You dry-clean your favorite pajamas to preserve the material. You do astrology charts of people who piss you off to find out how to best get back at them. You paint until four in the morning and sleep in our bed until I wake you up–,”

Your heart thrusts its way into your airways and cuts off your ability to speak. You know you’re not making a lot of sense, but all you can think of right now is how much you want to peel this fucking black, Steve Jobs-esque, goddamn ugly-ass turtleneck apart with your bare hands. Like freeing a mermaid from a net. He squeezes your waist, his broad palm settled in the curve of your lower back. 

“Darling, I don’t see why this has you so sad –,”

“They won’t fall in love with you like I did.” You lift your watery gaze to him, unable to stop the spilling of tears. You always got teary when you drank a bit too much, but fuck, if you didn’t love him so much, you wouldn’t be so mad . . . at yourself. “I hate that you feel like you have to do this to be accepted by my family. I hate that they can’t see what makes you so special to me. I hate . . . I hate that they don’t see the real you.” 

And out of nowhere, he smiles. 

Never one to shy away from bodily fluids, Dieter kisses your tear-soaked cheeks, his hands rising up your back, taking their time to press into the curve of your hips, the bones of your ribs, the high arch of your spine, before settling on your cheeks. He kisses your wet mouth, thumbs against the corners of your lips like a soft leather bridle. He holds you, just like that, until your heart eases, stops racing in your chest, and you lean more into the kiss, chasing instead of hiding. You wrap your fingers around his wrists as he pulls away.

“With all due respect, this is just another gig for me.” His gentle smile hides no bitterness, no anger. No disgust. “I know what people like this are like, how they think, what they want. What they value.” He smears away the cold tears from your skin with his thumbs. “It’s fun, in a way, to infiltrate their little circles. It’s all fake, it’s all bullshit, and fortunately I’m fantastic at bullshit.”

You let out a watery laugh and he reaches behind you for some toilet paper to dry your tears. He blots your eyes for you before you can even take the tissue. 

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, baby,” he murmurs. “My family was exactly the same way, so I know how the game is played.”

“Yeah, and you don’t talk to them anymore. I just wish I had your bravery to cut them out of my life like you did.” 

Dieter’s mouth twitches. “Well, that had more to do with the fact that I like to occasionally make out with boys, than dysfunctional family dynamics.”

You squeeze his forearm as he continues to clean your face, trying to catch his eyes but they’d gone hard where a moment ago they were soft. He thinks, using the silence to carefully fix your make up with his thick thumb under your eyelashes to lift off the smeared mascara. 

He didn’t talk much about his life before Hollywood, but when he did, you understood why he was so closed off about it.

“Let’s put it this way: they did the cutting off, not me. And even if we have to be completely different people, your family still talks to you. I’m not saying that to guilt you, or compare trauma scars, but . . . most times we can’t pick who we love, but sometimes we have to.” 

You nod, a sense of ease washing over you. His small, I don’t know if I should say this but I’m gonna smile widens across his mouth. 

“It’s okay if they don’t see the real me, because I know you do.” He finally pulls away the tissue, his mouth pulled up in sweet earnest. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

A physical string connected between your ribs and his could not have tugged you faster. Tripping into his wide, warm chest, you drop your head onto his collarbone as you wrap your arms around his torso tighter than his own rib cage.

“Just . . .”

His bulky arms pull you into his chest, the bristles of his beard scratching at your temple. It’s not until you sink away from your own thoughts, into the silence in the bathroom, that you realize your breathing is synced with his. 

That realization hits you particularly hard, that without trying, without meaning to, you become one with him – you turn and bury your face into the pulse of his neck. If you can get to his heartbeat, maybe that’ll calm you too. Dig through the crust of the earth and end up in China. You shift in his arms, and he does too. Dieter cups the back of your head, thumb rubbing the arch of your skull. His entire arm circles your back. 

“What do you need, hm, baby? What can I give you, huh?”

You know he doesn’t mean it like that, but the girth, the weight of his voice has your toes curling in your shoes. His rasp is so often used to light that first spark. 

“Dieter –,” the moment shifts and so do you. You squirm, itching for his face in your hands, his mouth over yours, but he holds you steady. Holds you firm. So firm, you can feel he’s half-hard in his jeans. 

Oh. 

Maybe he did mean it like that. 

You press your tongue against his pulse point, your fingers splayed across the back of his rib cage, and he shudders. You’re about to bite down, when his hands peel your fingers from his back and pinch your wrists in one single, meaty grip. Heart suddenly thundering in your chest, he steps back to allow for just enough room to turn you – barely any at all – and pushes you face down on the sink counter, your wrists clasped over your ass behind you.

Cold marble pressing up against your tits, your face turned towards the window and the towel bar where you used to hang your Barbie swimsuits when you were seven, you feel his other massive palm dip under your sweater and press flat against the ridges of your spine. He hums when you let out a small whine. Flexes his fingers when you wiggle your ass against him. You seek out the marble with your cheek, heat rising under your skin, arousal suddenly burning hot in your low belly. 

“This is what you need, hm, baby? Need me to touch you? To feel you?” He murmurs. Dieter always did like playing with his food. You nod helplessly, cheek sticky against the marble. He shifts his hips into the crack of your ass, with just enough pressure to have you bucking back against him, but not enough to find relief from the stirring between your legs. 

He strokes your hair away from your neck, fingers brushing over your collarbone, gaze languid and slow. Like he can see where he needs to pluck to unravel you. 

“Why is my baby so tense?” He muses quietly, patronizing. His hand maps your spine in a single palm, edging slowly up your back until, with two fingers, he pinches your bra open. You feel the snap of the release and you rub your nose against the edge of the counter, whimpering. “Don’t I take care of you?”

You gulp. “Y-y-yes, you treat– treat me so good. I want it.” 

He has you pressed too tightly against the counter to slip his hand down your front, the edge pinching your hips. So, instead, with your hands still pinned against your tailbone, he palms your ass and rubs a thick finger down between your legs and up over the seam of your jeans. The whine building in your throat breaks into an open moan when he presses your zipper teeth into your clit.  

“Want what? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” 

“F-fingers – tongue – fuck – y-your cock. Anything inside me.” 

The surprised, breathless chuckle that reverberates down to the button of his jeans seared against your ass has you bending, stretching, just for a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

His mouth open, tongue curling back and forth over his bottom lip, he’s hungry. Wants so much. Can’t satiate this need without something between his teeth. Grinning around a mouthful of incisors. Patience has never been Dieter’s strong suit. 

With a firm jerk around your wrists, your back arches up off the counter, shoulders pinched, hands caught low near his groin. You know he wants you to watch him touch you in the mirror – he’s stopped before when you close your eyes – but it’s hard to look at the woman reflected back at you, with her bleary eyes, mussed hair, heaving chest, and exposed belly button where his hand hovers between the waistband and a green sweater, and recognize yourself. 

  “No one can take you from me. Do you understand?” He dips his head, arched nose dragging up the curve of your neck, breathing hot through his teeth against the lines where your hair and your skin meet. You can’t help but arch up into his waiting mouth. “Not your family. Not mine. You’re so greedy for me – who else is gonna make you feel this good?” 

“N-no one, Dieter, no one can.”

His hand rising under your sweater, thumb first at your belly button, then up between the spread of your ribs, and finally, it catches under the wire of your bra and he tugs it down. The material rubs against your sensitive nipples – it almost stings, your body pulled taught like a bowstring – the straps falling low off your shoulders, but your sweater keeps it from falling off completely and he goes no further. You whine, eager for something other than the scratch of the bra – something warmer – and push your sensitive tits into his soft hands, but his hand drops, fingering the waistline of your jeans instead. He ignores what you want to show you what you need. 

This is a thing he did. He watched you wind yourself up with deadlines and scheduling and meetings and arguments on set and and doubt and worry and fear and then he took it upon himself to tire you out enough that all of it shattered – crashed and consumed under the white noise in your head. Dieter liked to play however you needed it.

You can feel the seam of his jeans hover just beyond your fingertips, as though his hips swing unconsciously forward while he nips and sucks on your neck. God, you’d give anything to have the weight of him between your palms. 

When he speaks again, you realize at some point you squeezed your eyes shut, forgoing sight to chase the sensation that sparks across your skin every time he touched a new bare patch of skin on you. He pulls his head up from fixating a tender purple blush just below where your sweater covers your shoulder to catch your gaze in the mirror. Panthers do not watch with such hungry eyes. 

“Arms up.” It’s not a command, a request, but the words drip from his mouth, rich and sweet. He lets go of your wrists and your arms flutter above you, his fingers already rolling up the edge of your sweater. He drags it up, snagging your loose bra with it, and peeling them both off you. The immediate heat of his chest on your bare back is so hot, it burns cold. 

“Dieter,” you cry, nipples hardening in the cold air, goosebumps spiraling out along your skin. He’s there for you in an instant. 

He bites the soft, invisible hairs at your jaw, thick paws coming up to clutch your breasts, the sudden swap in temperature making your head swim. He pulls you against his chest, a new outer skin that breathes and moans and gasps, one that has a steady heartbeat your own has synced to. 

With his eyes fixated on you in the mirror, he molds your breast to his palm, rounding your nipples with his thumbs before sliding down between the curves of them. He licks the back of your neck. 

“Face down, baby,” he says. 

“But it’s cold,” you huff, pouting. You smooth your hands over his, his angular wrists, his broad thick forearms entombed in long back sleeves, then settle with your fingers in his hair. His height over you has your torso stretched, your tits bare and ripe, and he palms your stomach to the top of your ribs in two hands. He grunts when you twist his curls, keeping his head still so every bruise and wet spot on your shoulders and throat are all too visible. “Don’t you want to see all your good work?”

He blinks, slow and purposeful, his eyelids heavy, mouth parting. You can’t be sure of his decision, of what he wants, what he’s going to give, when his hands arch up the cradle of your arms, soft enough to tickle below your elbows, then around your wrists. He’s done this enough for you to know he wants you to let go.

You do. 

Fast as venom moves from fangs to flesh, he plants your hands on the counter, forcibly gripping the edge. This is how you hold on. 

He steps up against you again, iron-hot cock pressing without hesitancy between your ass cheeks, and unbuckles your pants without preamble.

“I’d rather just show you.” 

Broad hand bending your shoulders forward, fingers pressed flat over your shoulder, you gasp when your tits make contact with the cold counter, and an instant later, he’s filling your open mouth with his fingers. He wets them against the slip of your tongue and grabs your jaw. 

Your mind fracturing like cracking ice, you don’t hear the zip of his jeans, the groan as he takes himself out – barely feel the rub along your wet slit, the arranging of his fingers around your bare hip, the widening of your stance with his ankle. 

But you do feel it when he’s suddenly hilt-deep inside of you. 

You lurch forward with the weight of it, whining as though scalded at the sudden blinding pressure of pleasure and pain, and you slap a palm against the mirror to keep yourself from shattering through it. Behind you, Dieter looks like someone dislocated his kneecaps. 

“You good, baby?” He pants, drawing his hand out of your mouth, wet spit between his fingers as he cups your hanging breast. The sensation bleeds hot, then cold. Unable to help himself, he nuzzles your shoulder blades. 

You nod, eyes shut, the magnetic north sense of you spinning wildly off-kilter as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. You know you’re about to lose it anyway. He stands upright, not so much as inching out of you, when he plants his feet and nestles your ass against his hip bones, hands wiggling you further down his cock. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

It’s said with such wonder, a breathless reverence, that you think he might not have realized he said it out loud. You glance over your shoulder, turning your head instead of finding him in the mirror. 

The facade of the Brooklyn banker is gone. Your Dieter stares, awe-struck, at the body he’s got impaled on his cock like it’s the first time he’s seen a naked woman. Soft, pliant, eager to please, your Dieter lets you collar him, peg him, and give it to you exactly as you ask.

“How do you want it?” The phrase is so familiar, so intimate when spoken from his pink lips, you shudder, a Pavlovian response that’s got you drooling somewhere else than your mouth. He lifts his gaze and finds you staring. 

There is no one else in that moment. Not a single living soul besides you and him in this white-tiled bathroom. You can almost hear the absence of people ringing in your ears. His open, hot mouth draws your eyes away from his and you want every bit of him as stuffed up inside you as you can handle. Twisted around, you lick his bottom lip over your shoulder before offering your tongue for him to suck.

He groans, and you breathe in intimacy you’ve never experienced before. A flushed ache rises from your chest, a precursor to the aches he’ll leave you with by morning. 

You tip your head back and thumb the bristly skin against his chin.

“Hard, baby. Please.”

For all his faults, for all his forgetting, Dieter switches brain waves as fast as you do, tethered together like the gravitational spin of space rocks in the wake of a gleaming comet.

“Okay.”

He distracts you from the pain of that first rough thrust by biting down on your shoulder.

His motions are short, targeted, and right up into the cradle of your cervix, the pace driven, unrelenting and hard. You shake with the force of them, as fragile as silverware on a table near the drop of an atom bomb. 

“Oh – fuck, Dieter–,” 

He pins your arm that had touched his chin to your chest, then his chest to your back, sealing your damp skin to his shirt. The curl of that wretched black turtleneck scratches deliciously against your low back. 

Grunting in low, short bursts, Dieter sabotages his own breathing by crushing you so tight to his chest. He sucks on your neck as if to draw the oxygen straight from your blood. The fingers on your hip steady you, just for his cock wrecks your insides. 

“You wan-na – ngh – you wanna know why it doesn’t bother me?” 

Each word is spat out from between his teeth. He’s giving you your requested punishment as much as he is sprinting after his own release.

“Tell me. Tell me please.” Your voice is scraped raw, breathless and gooey at the same time. 

“Because when you’re my wife, they won’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.” 

Around him, your cunt squeezes, his words sending shocks through your nerves. You whine as if he’d smacked your ass. 

“I fucking felt that. You like that. You want that. You want my fucking cock every day.”

Again, he plants your hands on the cold counter. 

“Push back against me, baby.” You anchor yourself, ass out, elbows and knees locked. “That’s it, that’s my fucking good girl.”

He lifts his body up right, off your sweaty neck and back, and with both hands pinching your waist, he yanks you up and down on his cock in long, rough thrusts, knees bending with enough force to send you onto your toes.  

“Gonna have to take it. Just – fucking – take – it –,”

His leaking cock drives up against that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and body tense again and again, but yanks back before that hot feeling swells. It’s so close you’re dizzy from it. 

You want to fuck yourself on his cock but you can’t time your aching hips right, so you stop trying and bend forward more, exposing more of your cunt to him. 

“Dieter, please –,” 

“Baby, you gotta be quiet. I know you feel good, but you can’t let them hear us.”

The words are out of your mouth, breaking through the thick, drowning fog and through the hindbrain barrier.

“Fuck them. Let them hear.” 

Dieter’s hips slow, punch not as deeply, as if he’s curious what you’re going to say next.

“Take off your shirt. I wanna feel your skin.” 

He listens immediately, a very good boy at heart, and the first press of his soft chest against you nearly has you coming then. 

“Harder again, please.” 

Again, without a second’s hesitation, he kisses your ear before grappling your shoulder with one hand and your hip with the other and he takes up his position as owner and keeper of your sloppy cunt. 

You cry out, high and wrecked, some semblance of sanity knowing you’re being far too loud, and he bucks the words out of you.

“I wanna suck on your earring, Dieter.” He grunts as he doubles over as if trying to yank back an unrestrained and early release. He rubs his damp forehead in the patch of soft skin by your shoulder blade. 

“Say it again.” 

With every rock of his hips, you swing up higher, and higher, your thighs tensing, nails scraping the counter. 

“Wanna put it between my lips and suck until you’re cherry red. I wanna choke on your rings. So far down my throat I gag. Wanna – wanna – lick your tattoos – all of them – ‘til the ink blurs from my spit. I –,”

The noise he makes is pained, weak, a man at the end of his rope.

He pops your ass. “Shut up. You’re gonna come now.” 

His sweaty palms slip against the soft skin of your hips, and he keeps slipping with no leverage. 

“Stand on your toes.” You do and for an absurd second, you think he’s going to pick you up in a bear hug. He wraps his arms around your rib cage, his face nestled into the hot, sticky curve of your neck, in the flipped image of when he takes you after your legs get sore from riding him. Your tits spilling over his forearms, he keeps the ludicrous bend in your spine as well as the short, rough pace. You reach your fingers around the back of his head and hold on for dear life. 

The change in angle has stars blowing across your eyes, has you whimpering strings of pleas, veneration, and curses all threaded together. His own thighs shaking, he rubs the pads of three of his fingers across your clit and you’re over the edge. 

“Oh – oh, shit –,”

The electrical storm that’s been building one wiry shock at a time finally bursts and you go rigid from head to toe, turning to marble, to steel, bright and sharp. You can feel your own release dribble down your thigh, Dieter stuttering behind you.

“Wait – fuck,”

He tries to speed up, or press harder, but he’s coming so hard you feel it expand your cunt and ends up just making a leaking mess. The sensation shivers you through another minor wave. The crest goes high, then crashes, and you slump forward, cold nips be damned, and he follows you down a second later. 

The heated weight at your back and hard, cool marble squishing your tits is too much for your dazed brain to handle. Any looser and you might slip off the edge of the earth. 

Dieter seems to be in a similar state. He not so much pulls out of you as he goes weak-kneed to the floor. A single tug on your hip has you stumbling down with him.

Despite the garland around the stairs, despite the smell of cranberries in the air, despite the veneer of perfect holiday wholesomeness, it’s the slick layer of sweat, grime, and cum over your skin that has you finally smiling. 

You recognize you have been gone far too long – there’s not enough spiked hot cider in the world to ignore two missing bodies and a locked door. Dieter puts his barefoot preemptively up against the door frame and you giggle into his shoulder. 

“Oh, there’s the sound I’ve been missing!” He nuzzles you, a blissful smile breaking open his face, sunlight over storm clouds. He wiggles beneath you, trying to tug you on top of him, but with your jeans constricting your thighs, and his barely below his hips, all it really accomplishes is the two of you rolling around on the bathroom floor.

In a heap of limbs, slick skin, his knee catching the button of your jeans, you bump your nose against his chin, there’s something bright building in your chest – it’s twisting your mouth, pinching your cheeks – his fingers grab your elbow, his eyes lock into yours – 

And you’re laughing. 

You’re laughing too loud, all pretense gone. You can’t honestly care what they’re thinking downstairs.

He manages to get you under him, his damp hair clinging to his temples and tangling down in frizzy strands. 

“I’m gonna say this and I need you to actually hear me.” 

You nod, grinning up at him and lightly tracing his clavicle. 

He swats at your hand and holds it to your chest. 

“Don’t wait until it’s that bad, okay?” You chuckle and he bites the tip of your nose. “Listen to me, you little goblin, I’m trying to be serious for a second.”

You settle under him, fingers intertwining with his over your chest. Sincere Dieter is a beautiful thing to look at. 

“This holiday bullshit can be a lot. Spent a lot of them either in coke up to my eyeballs, or in the bathroom the next day. It fucking sucks that these are the people we can from, but we can’t change that. What’s important is the family we build right now–,”

Your mouth drops open, his words suddenly illuminating a future that had always seemed so blurry and distant. 

“Dieter, I –,”

“I’m gonna marry you someday, so let’s start with us.” He kisses the back of your hand. “We carry each other, okay?” 

You nod, the white light of that future searing a hole in your chest, exposing your heart to the open air, and bringing tears to your eyes. You nod, more assured, before kissing him on his bottom lip.

“Okay.” 

The next few minutes play out just like they would if you were at home: cleaning each other up, trying on clothes only to realize he grabbed your sweater instead, and bumping affectionate kisses wherever they could reach. 

At the top of the stairs, you don’t know what awaits you in the living room. What exactly you’ll be returning to. Who will catch you and who won’t.

But it doesn’t matter. His hand is around yours and he’s grinning petulantly against all the world. 

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on? 

Your heart says yes. 

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble #pedro pascal #merry thanksgiving nonsense 2023

[tpwkwriter]

☃️❄️Tpwkwriters December fic recs 🎄💫

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!! And these fics will certainly most make you feel more festive and cosy! All credit goes to these writers and accounts, as normal my DMs are always open, if anybody wants to be added/removed from this completion let me know!

As usual lots of love and stay safe this winter ❄️🩵

——————————————————————————

Gingerbread kisses- @finelinevogue

Christmassy kisses- @finelinevogue

Holidays with Harry- @harrysfolklore

Wife material- @harrysfolklore

Let it settle- @twostepstyless

We’re matching- @twostepstyless

Christmas cookies- @jarofstyles

The perfect tree- @storiesforallfandoms

Gifts- @tinydestinybear

Christmas Eve- @fictionalwh0ree

Baby it’s cold outside- @watermelonlovershigh

This Christmas- @leveller-75

Matilda- @goldenbuckyyy

That’s my apron- @glitteredrry

Christmas dance- @astranva

Christmas in Holmes chapel- @nationalharryleague

I gave you my heart- @suchalonelysunflower

Baby it’s cold outside- @watermelonlovershigh

New home for the holidays- @1025cherrystreet

This- @sapphicgarlic

This- @kissme-hs

The Christmas gift- @hesmygolden

Christmas spirit- @crowdedimagines

Christmas morning- @afeb

Winter flakes- @oghoneytryst

A dad!harry Christmas!- @lovecanyon

Snow plow- @lovemepleaase

Holiday wishes, mistletoe kisses- @berrynarrybanana

Baking made easy- @harrysgloves

Frosty the snowman- @gucciwins

25 days of Christmas- @emotionally-imbruised

Underneath the tree- @all-things-fic

It’s not Christmas ‘til you come home- @tobesolonely

Christmas lights and love bites- @mouthfulloftoothpasterry

Santas grotto- @musicforastylesrestaurant

One year- @watchmegetobsessed

12 days of ficmas by @watermelonlovershigh

25 day advent calendar by @twostepstyless

Christmas Thyme- @ihearthes

Part 2- @ihearthes

———-☃️❄️Happy holidays to you all 🎄✨————

~💚~

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #fluff #angst #smut #harry styles fluff #Christmas #Christmas fic rec #Harry styles fic rec #Harry styles Christmas fic rec #merry christmas #harrymas #Harry styles Christmas fics #12 days of ficmans #12 days of xmas concept #Harry #styles #fic recs #Harry fic recs #🩵

[storiesforallfandoms]

santa's sister in law ~ bernard the elf;the santa clause

word count: 4292

request?: no

description: in which he is adamantly against the in laws coming to the north pole, until he meets santa's sister in law

pairing: bernard the elf x female!human!reader

warnings: christmas fluff, sylvia sucking a little bit but that's just canon

masterlist (one, two, three)

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

a special christmas gift for @omeletdreamer 😌

Bernard was firmly against Carol's family coming to the North Pole. He liked Carol, don't get him wrong. She was a fantastic Mrs. Claus, and he loved her idea to start an elf school at the Pole. He understood that it was hard to adjust to life at the Pole, especially while she was pregnant. But bringing outsiders there was a big no-no. They were already pushing things by letting Laura, Neil, and Lucy in on the secret of Santa.

But all of his protests fell on deaf ears. Santa wanted Carol to have her family while he was going to be busy, and the other elves just wanted Carol to be happy. It was a thousand against one. So, Santa got into his sleigh and flew to get Carol's parents while the elves fixed up the Pole to look like Canada.

"This is never going to work," Bernard said to Curtis. "There's no way they're going to think this is Canada. Even if they believe these ridiculous store signs, they'll never believe Canada is inhabited by a bunch of children."

"Can you not be so negative for once?" Curtis asked. "It'll be fine."

"We are seriously pushing it with how many people know about the Pole and Santa. You can't blame me for being stressed out over it."

"Everything will be fine, Bernard. We have a plan. We got this."

Bernard huffed a sigh and walked away. He was tired of being brushed off like this. He didn't become head elf for nothing. He knew what he was doing. If only someone would just listen to him.

As he was walking away, he heard something in the distance. He looked up to see Santa's sleigh breaching through the entrance to the Pole. He couldn't see them yet, but he imagined Carol's parents in there, asleep from Sandman's magic, expecting to wake up in "Canada". He cringed to himself. There's really no going back now.

"I need a hot cocoa," he muttered to himself.

The kitchen elves were busy baking away when Bernard walked in. Carol had told them her mom's favorite cookies so they were hard at work making a batch to welcome Mrs. Newman. They were wearing comically large chef's hats pulled down to cover their pointy ears, which made Bernard glad his hair was long enough to do that naturally.

"Hi Bernard," Abby said, giving him a bright smile upon noticing him. "Want a hot cocoa?"

"I'd love one, Abby," he responded, sitting down at one of the tables.

She rushed off to make it for him. He picked up a cookie from a plate in the middle of the table to eat while waiting. Abby returned with his hot cocoa. He blew on it, disturbing the steady steam coming from the drink. He hoped that escaping to the kitchen would give him some time to prepare for Carol's parents.

He was taking his first sip of his hot cocoa when the kitchen doors opened again and in walked Santa, Mrs. Claus and her family in tow. Bernard nearly choked on his drink.

"And here's our kitchen," Santa was saying. "Oh, and Bernard's here too! Bernard is my, uh, he's my...assistant."

Bernard tried not to roll his eyes at the title.

He reluctantly stood and plastered a smile on his face. "Hi, nice to meet you...eh."

Carol's dad shook his hand while her mom pulled him in for an embrace. Bernard wasn't prepared for a third person to approach; a young woman with a smile so beautiful it left him speechless.

"This is my sister," Carol said. "We didn't know she was coming too."

"I'm (Y/N)," the woman said. "Mom and dad mentioned they were coming for a visit, so I asked Scott if it was alright for me to tag along."

"Of course it would be alright!" Sylvia cut in. "Scott's already had Carol from us for so long, he'd never say no to bringing Carol's loving sister with us to finally see her again."

Sylvia had a smile on her face but there was venom in her words. (Y/N) cringed and tried to ignore her mother's comment. "It's really lovely here so far. I'm glad I could come."

Bernard was still tongue tied. He kept opening and closing his mouth like an idiot trying to figure out something to say. (Y/N) was watching him, waiting, while Scott and Carol shared an amused look.

"Let's show you the rest of the place," Carol said, putting an arm around her sister. "We'll meet up with Bernard again later."

(Y/N) smiled and waved goodbye as the group left the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bernard felt like he was freed from a spell. He let out a long breath and slumped back down to the table. His hot cocoa had cooled down enough that he finished the rst of it in two gulps.

~~~~~~

Bernard was up late that night doing his rounds of the workshop. All the other elves had left for the night, but Bernard was often the last one up making sure everything was shut down and nothing was left out of place. With the in laws visiting, he was also making sure the workshop was locked up so no one would accidentally wander in and discover everything.

He was preparing to leave when he noticed the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar. He was sure all the baker elves had left for the night, but maybe someone had stayed behind. He poked his head into the room and almost gasped aloud when he saw it was (Y/N) who was leaning against the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She was in her pajamas, clearly preparing for bed. Bernard was about to back away and leave her be, until she looked up form her mug and caught him. She smiled and waved to him.

"Good evening, Bernard," she said.

There was no escaping now. He stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, trying not to seem as weird as he had earlier. He discretely made sure his ears were tucked away under his hair.

"Hi," he said. Simple, easy. You can't mess up a "hi".

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

She giggled. "Touché. I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to come out for a hot cocoa. That nice baker, Abby I think? She offered to make me one before she left. I was told she makes the best hot cocoa in all of the town."

"Oh, she does. She's the one you go to when you want a good hot drink made."

"She works magic, I'm sure."

Bernard tried not to let his smile falter. "You have no idea."

A silence fell over them. (Y/N) softy blew on her hot cocoa before taking a sip from it. A small trail of foam stuck to her upper lip as she pulled her mug away. Bernard couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"What?" she asked.

"You just...you have something..." He gestured to his top lip.

She ran a thumb along her top lip, only smearing the foam more.

"Here, let me." Bernard reached up and wiped the foam off with his own thumb. He was suddenly very aware of their closeness when he looked into her eyes. Any words he could ever say were stuck in his throat yet again and he could only imagine how insane he looked, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "And thank you for having us here, too. I know it's a busy time of year for you guys. We don't mean to impose."

It took Bernard a moment to remember the story they had been telling Carol's parents: that Scott was a toy maker in Canada and that's why he would be so busy this time of year and needed someone to be there with Carol while she was pregnant.

"It's not imposition," Bernard assured her. "If anything, I think it's going to make Sa - Scott feel better to have you guys here for Carol while he's working."

(Y/N) nodded. "It's very nice of him to have us here considering how my parents tend to treat him."

Bernard thought back to the comment Sylvia had made earlier. The strained relationship between Scott and his in-laws wasn't anything new to him. Scott had mentioned it a few times before, most recently when he was voicing his concerns about bringing Bud and Sylvia to the Pole with Bernard in private. It was evident that both Newman sisters also noticed how their parents treated Scott, and it seemed neither of them were too happy with it.

"I understand why mom and dad get upset," (Y/N) continued. "One minute Carol was a proud principal at the local middle school, and then the next thing we know she's writing us to tell us she got married to a guy we've never even heard of and moved off to Canada to be with him. I mean, even I was skeptical then. But when she'd write to me about Scott and about being here, it was clear that she was so happy and she found the man of her dreams. Who are we to judge the quickness that they got married? As long as she's safe and happy, which she clearly is. But mom and dad don't see it that way. Dad is still convinced that Scott is a cult leader who stole Carol away or something."

(Y/N) paused and looked at Bernard. He had been listening as she spoke, just nodding along and not saying a word. She chuckled a little and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling on about my family drama."

"No! It's-it's fine. Trust me, I've heard similar stuff from Sa - Scott."

She gave him a look. "You keep stuttering on Scott's name."

"Yeah."

He couldn't think of a better explanation besides that. He felt an unfamiliar burning sensation in his cheeks. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or just from being so close to her that made him feel that way. She giggled, though; a sound more beautiful than any of the twinkling bells that were often heard around the Pole.

"I'm just glad to be here," she said. "And I'm glad mom and dad can be here for when the baby is born. Maybe that will help them be a little less harsh on Scott."

She finished what was left in her mug and looked around the oversized kitchen. When Bernard realized she was probably trying to figure out where to put the dirty mug, he said, "Oh, I can take care of that for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're our guest, and I can handle this."

She smiled and passed him the mug. "Well, thanks for talking to me, Bernard. I guess I should try to sleep again."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bernard." She started towards the door, but then paused to turn back to him. "I hope you're not too busy tomorrow. I'd like to spend more time with you."

His face was on fire as she left.

~~~~~~

For the first time in his thousands of years as the head elf, Bernard wasn't concerned with his head elf duties. Of course he was still there if Santa needed him, but he decided not to spend the entire day in the factory and to seek out (Y/N) to spend time with her. She was delighted to see him and was more than happy to accept his offer to show her around "Canada" for the day.

This became a regular occurrence for a few days. Bernard would make sure to check in often to see if he was needed, but if he wasn't he was with (Y/N). He would feel bad about taking her away from her time with her family, but it seemed her parents were more concerned with fussing over Carol than they were about all four of them spending time together. And (Y/N) also assured Bernard that she was making time for Carol and her family as well as spending time with him.

Bernard was more than well aware he was falling in love with (Y/N), and he was also more than well aware of how bad that was. Elves falling in love was nothing new; he had officiated quite a few elf weddings in his time. But falling in love with a human was out of the question. Elves were immortal, humans were not. Scott and Carol were different - upon becoming Santa and Mrs. Claus, their aging processes had slowed down considerably. They weren't completely immortal, but they weren't aging as fast as normal humans did. But that wasn't possible for a human that an elf fell in love with. Even if (Y/N) felt the same way towards Bernard, she would still continue to age while he would stay the same for the rest of time.

But he couldn't stop himself. He was falling fast and hard. Carol's due date was creeping closer, and once it came it would only be a matter of time before the Newman family would have to go back home, meaning that (Y/N) would leave and likely would not come back. That thought hurt Bernard.

Bernard was approaching where (Y/N) was staying one day when she slipped out of the house instead. He was surprised; she had never left before he had gotten there before.

As he got closer he realized that her face was tearstained.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

(Y/N) jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh, Bernard. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Nothing's wrong."

He was about to point out that she was very obviously upset over something when the door opened again and Sylvia slipped out. She looked like she was about to say something, but she noticed Bernard and gave him a tight smile, one that he had come to learn was very much her fake smile.

"Hello, Bernard," she said. "I was just having a conversation with my daughter. We were talking about spending the day with Carol. We haven't had an all girls day since we arrived. So, unfortunately, I don't think she'll be able to spend time with you today."

"No mom," (Y/N) said. "I said I would join you later for girls time. Besides, you know Carol has an appointment with the doctor. She won't be ready till later."

Her mother was smiling but her eyes were glaring daggers into the younger Newman girl. (Y/N) held the glare before turning to Bernard and taking hold of his arm. She didn't say anything as she dragged him away. He followed anyways, wanting to get as far away from Sylvia as he could.

"God, I don't understand what is wrong with her," (Y/N) said, letting go of Bernard long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I swear she just doesn't want Carol and I to be happy."

"What was she saying?" Bernard asked.

"Oh, she was going off about the fact that I spend so much time with you. Had her usual rant about Scott taking her precious daughter away from her and dad, and then said she'll be damned if she lets it happen with me too. Basically tried to guilt me into not spending time with you today by saying that Carol was upset that she didn't get to see me much, which I know isn't true because just the other day Carol was saying how happy she was that you and I were getting along."

She shook her head. "I'm so sick of it. It's like she can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe, just maybe, life is so busy here that Carol doesn't always have time to visit. It has nothing to do with Scott being manipulative or a cult leader or whatever conspiracy her and dad have cooked up on a certain day."

Bernard listened in silence. He felt bad that (Y/N) had to have these issues with her mother. Carol was hearing it all now, but he was sure (Y/N) heard much more of it when she was back home with her parents.

None of the Newmans could ever understand the way things were with Carol and Scott. They could never know why things were like this, but they likely wouldn't understand even if they knew.

Unless...

It was an idea that shocked even Bernard that he had it. Head elf of the North Pole, Santa's righthand man himself, considering such a thing? After being so against Carol's family coming to the Pole? It was preposterous. But his brain was so clouded by love for (Y/N) that he wasn't thinking proper.

"Come with me," he said. He didn't wait for an answer, just took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the workshop.

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in hips pointed ears. He had to remind himself there was no going back. This was going to be huge, and it could likely get him into a world of trouble.

He opened the doors to the workshop and (Y/N) stepped in. She looked around in awe at the working elves, most of which were not hiding their ears as the workshop was supposed to be off limits to the Newmans. None of them seemed to notice the two of them enter, and if they did, nothing was said.

Bernard watched (Y/N), nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Is this...what I think it is?" she asked him. "No, it can't be. I must be dreaming. I fell and hit my head and now I'm in a coma having a very vivid dream that all of these small people who are supposed to be Canadians have pointed ears like they're elves."

When she looked over at him, Bernard had taken off his hat and allowed his ears to peak out from under his hair.

"I've lost it," she decided.

"You haven't," he assured her. "All of this is real. It's why Carol hasn't been able to visit as much, or why you couldn't visit until now. Look, there's so much to know about all of this. So much that I want to tell you but technically I can't because there are strict rules about humans knowing about the North Pole."

(Y/N) had another quick moment of shock that she was able to very quickly recover from. "Rules that you're currently breaking by showing me...Santa's workshop. By admitting that you're an elf, these are all elves...oh my God, my sister is Mrs. Claus."

"It is all very complicated," he said. "But you deserve to know that Carol is truly happy here. She's not being held against her will, Santa isn't manipulative or holding her captive. He loves her so much that he risked you and your parents finding out about him - about us - so that all of you could be here for her while she's pregnant."

(Y/N) still seemed to be stunned. She looked around the bustling factory again, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Wait," she said. "But...if you all went through so much to make us think this was Canada, to keep who Scott is a secret...then why are you telling me now?"

Because I love you. Because I want you to stay. Because I want to be with you more than anything, even though I know that will never happen.

"Because I want you to know the truth," he replied. "About all of this. About...about me."

She was looking at him. He didn't know what else to say, so he just looked back. He waited for an answer. He willed her to say something, anything.

She didn't say anything, though. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Bernard. It was quick, almost hesitant, and when she pulled away she looked embarrassed.

"Sorry," she said. "I...should I have done that? I should've asked first. Was it okay that I did that?"

He smiled. "It was more than okay."

"Okay. I'm...I'm going to do it again, if that's still okay."

Bernard chuckled and moved in to kiss (Y/N) first. He had only ever kissed one person before - when he was young one of the other elves had gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran away afterwards. Not exactly something glamorous or anything like that. So he was a little worried about whether or not he was a good kisser. Although, something felt so natural about kissing (Y/N), like he could never do it wrong even if he tried.

He paused when he realized a slight hush had fallen over the workshop. He and (Y/N) pulled away to see that all the working elves had stopped what they were doing to look at the two of them.

"Back to work!" Bernard commanded. They all quickly fell back into what they had been doing before. "Bunch of gossips, all of them. Everyone in town will know about this by nightfall."

"I don't blame them. I'd assume it's not every day that they see an elf kissing a human."

He chuckled. "No, I guess not."

They decided to step out of the workshop to talk more in private. (Y/N) looped her arm through Bernard's as they walked, a gesture that suddenly felt much more intimate than it had before.

"I guess it goes without saying that I can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not even my parents."

"No. Which I know is a big ask, but we can't have the secret of Santa going around," Bernard explained.

"Not like anyone would believe me. They'd think I was crazy if I went home talking about how my brother in law is Santa and how I started crushing on one of his elves. They'd sent me to an institute for sure."

Bernard smiled at her word choice. So she had liked him this whole time, too. Had it been obvious? Or had she been trying to contain it just as much as he did?

"How...would things work...for us then?" she asked.

It was the question he was dreading. The one he continued to ask himself despite knowing the answer to: it wouldn't. He couldn't let (Y/N) hold on to him when she left the Pole. She'd likely never see him again, which was for the best.

Seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) stopped. "No, do not tell me it's not going to work."

"It can't work, (Y/N). There's too much complications between a human and an elf being romantically linked. It's never happened before, and for good reason."

"There's a first for everything."

He shook his head. "No, there can't be a first for this. I can't let you throw away any other romantic opportunities you have for me. We may never see each other after this visit."

"My sister is married to Santa. There's no way I'm not coming back after this. And besides, long distance relationships are a thing."

"This one would be...very long distance."

She slid her arm from his and took his hand in hers. "I'm willing to try. I like you too much to give up without a fight."

Every rational part of his brain was screaming for him to stop. He could not let things go further. It was better for her if they ended everything after that first kiss and went hteir separate ways.

But the less rational part of his brain was louder than the rest, telling him not to give up this chance at happiness outside of work. He deserved to love and to be loved, just like anyone else in the world. If it worked for Scott, it had to work for him too, right?

He sighed and squeezed her hands. "It won't be easy."

"I don't expect it to be."

"You won't be able to be here a lot unless you're willing to give up everything the way Carol did."

"That's fine, we can make that work."

"And if you do end up coming here permanently, you can't tell anyone who I really am, or who Scott and Carol really are. You'll have to lie to everyone in your life. Is that something you can be okay with?"

(Y/N) stepped closer to him so that their noses were nearly touching. "I'm already lying about Scott and Carol. What's one more lie about the man I love?"

Love.

It was enough for him to abandon all hope at resisting her. He closed the space between them, kissing her again so passionately that it made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He could've kissed her forever. He could've stood there, wrapped around her and her wrapped around him, the cold nipping at them but barely bothering them, forever. He wanted to take this moment and freeze it, to never have to go back to his busy life as Santa's right hand elf ever again.

But she pulled away first, resting her forehead against his.

"I did promise my mom a girl's day," she said with a sigh. "And I think if I blow her off for this, she'll probably actually kill me."

"I guess I'll have to let you go then."

But he didn't, and she didn't let go of him. They laughed and kissed again.

It would be another several minutes before he would finally (and reluctantly) let her go.

#bernard the elf #bernard the elf imagine #bernard the elf x reader #david krumholtz #david krumholtz imagine #david krumholtz x reader #the santa clause #christmas #merry christmas #happy holidays #christmas imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Of Kings and Kids - Chapter 3

It‘s getting a bit romantic, folks! @gaiaseyes451 and I wish you a nice Christmas Eve!

Chapter 3 on Ao3

Clear as a trumpet across the countryside, the piercing cry of a newborn baby rang through the night.

Crowley smiled, “that’ll be your newborn King, I expect.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and exhaled, “yes, I suspect you're correct.”

“I should be going, have a feeling your work is just beginning.” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand once more and, carefully dislodging Jemimah, stood to begin his way down the hill.

Aziraphale watched him go. “Good night, Crowley,” he called down the hillside.

Crowley stopped and looked over his shoulder, Aziraphale could hear the smile in his voice even though he could not see it. “See you tomorrow, angel.” He said, then replaced his glasses and began the walk back to Jerusalem.

Aziraphale was sitting on the boulder watching the flock at rest when a blinding light appeared a few meters in front of him. He shielded his eyes from the radiance as a glowing figure emerged, arms lifted upwards in exultation.

“I say unto you,” boomed a voice from the light. “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find the baby wrapped in a linen blanket in room seven of the Starlit Stays Lodge.”

Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. When he was quite sure he had mastered his face he responded as neutrally as possible. “Hello, Gabriel.”

Continue reading

All tumblr posts about this story here.

Thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the support! Merry Christmas!

#good omens #good omens fanart #Of Kings And Kids #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #art #goodomens #aziracrow #ineffable christmas #christmas story #good omens fanfiction #christmas #merry christmas #xmas #first christmas #good omens fanwork #good omens fic #good omens fanfic rec #vavoomart

[noxposting]

Another year, another @phandomholidaytruce ✨

Merry crisler @datawyrms ! Hope you like it!! It's also on AO3 with an extra chapter

Something's Wrong with Danny Fenton

The realization that something was seriously wrong was like falling asleep; slowly, and then all at once.

There had been no catalyst, no trigger to speak of.

Miss Jones had been sick and, this late into the school year, they hadn't bothered to provide a replacement. Most of the class hadn't even bothered showing up anyway; with finals so close, they were either asleep of studying.

Cal would have done the same, was it not for the absolute chaos at home. The twins were off school for the summer already, and they made sure to make their presence known to every single resident of the house. Usually starting at 6am. Cal didn't feel like he got to choose whether to stay home or not.

This is how he found himself here, sitting in a mostly empty classroom, gaze unfocused as he soaked in the rare moments of quiet. In front of him lay an opened biology book, as he lied to himself that he was going to use this time to revise ahead of exams. Instead, the sketch of a duck wearing sunglasses was guiltily staring at him from the page margins.

His gaze had wandered to the window, towards the school-yard of Casper High. Today was a rather rare sunny day; it was early summer, but even during the heart of the hottest season there was a never-ending, persistent chill that seemed to choke the entirety of Amity Park.

Cal, of course, knew exactly where it was coming from.

It was a little bit difficult to live around here and not know about the ghosts.

He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously. He didn't have any particular strong feelings about ghosts, really. He had gotten used to them, in a way. But, truth be told, he was not a fan of the spine-chilling coldness that seeped through everything in their presence and lingered after they were gone. The way the town seemed never to be able to escape this coldness anymore bothered him, but there was not much to do other than suck it up.

Which was why rare days like today were a pleasant, welcome surprise to the locals. He could see his classmates lounging around in the grass outside, soaking up the sunlight like starving sunflowers, and it brought a warm feeling in his chest. Cal was always more of a people watcher, standing in the side and absorbing situations rather than getting involved.

He tried to ignore the tense feeling in his spine that made the hair at the back of his neck stand.

Also, he was studying. He looked down at his book and a second duck that had joined the first and was silently judging him, this time wearing a dapper top hat and a little bow-tie.

There was no haunting chill in this classroom. Right. He didn't want to go out and miss the time to relax.

His let his gaze passively wander around the room. There were only four others in there with him, all in different states of mental non-existence. Eleanor and Sally-Anne were sat opposite each other, heads close over the desk as they gossiped, their whispers providing a subtle background noise through the quiet room. Jonathan (the one with the glasses, not the one in the football team) was focused on the book in front of him and Danny, at the back of the class, looked to have fully dissociated, eyes glazed over. Now wasn't that relatable.

Cal sighed. Suddenly the chair felt a bit stiff, his shoulders a bit tense, so he pulled his arms behind his back in a big stretch. He couldn't help the groan that left his lips as he felt his joints pop. Grabbing the back of his chair, he twisted around -first the right side, then the left- to relieve the tension.

The tension, as if to spite him, stayed.

He got up, cringing at the scraping sound his chair made as it slid back, and he could see on the edge of his vision that his movement had caught the attention of the two girls. When he didn't say anything, they returned to their conversation.

Cal went around his desk towards the window and looked outside, once again marveling at the sunshine and trying to ignore the goosebumps travelling down his arms. He did briefly debate the merits of joining the rest of the glass out in the grass once more, but the peace of the quiet classroom was too tempting for his foggy brain. Still, he didn't feel like sitting in a chair for the next forty minutes. Looking around, he spotted a few unattended markers on the teacher's desk, and paused, a thought forming in his mind.

His fingers were itching with misplaced adrenaline, and he figured what the hell.

Pointedly not allowing any awkward embarrassment to brew, he approached the desk, grabbed the black and green markers and approached the blank class whiteboard.

Cal had always liked to draw. His mom said it's because his hands can't sit still (but she liked it, really, especially when he made her custom-made mother's day cards every year). The twins had no opinion about it, until his sister got her first celebrity crush and begged him to draw the poor guy with cat ears.

No ducks with accessories this time.

She later posted it online with a humble brag about how she had 'finished it really quickly, what do you guys think' but, considering she had barely hit double digits in age, Cal had let it pass.

The validation of elementary kids was not in his radar, exactly.

He never followed any particular theme -his illustrations were usually random, without much thought. He liked letting his mind and hand take him wherever, and that often led to either randomness or, as was often the case for his bigger, more planned illustrations, a lot of inspiration from his environment.

Was it a surprise that he had produced so many drawings of ghosts?

As Cal was suddenly, once again, very aware of the subtle chill (not quite a presence, but it existed and it came from somewhere), he figured that one more addition to his ghost collection wouldn't make any difference.

Even if he wasn't used to drawing on a whiteboard, he still felt the long, controlled strokes of the marker come naturally. His preferred style was either completely colorless (which had absolutely nothing to do with his tendency to draw during class, thank you very much) or with minimal color; he knew how to manage negative space to his liking.

He had to admit, the subject he had chosen was pretty perfect for the whiteboard; all high contrast black and whites.

Getting lost in the process was easy for Cal; applying long strokes across the board and thick filling to the black outfit allowed time and tension to pass him by, almost. The hair would be tricky; making sure the black marker was used faintly enough to translate the light, luminous color was a mission, and Cal was nothing if not a perfectionist when it came to his work. All aspects to a drawing needed to come together for a good result, after all.

But for this, the most important part was the eyes.

Cal tightened his grip around the green marker. There could be only one color on this drawing, and it had to be the eyes. Sadly, a green whiteboard marker would never be quite the toxic green that he would have liked, but it was the principle that counted.

As he placed the last detail on the hair, fade enough to be as close to the bright white of the real thing, he uncapped the green marker. There was a sense of gravitas in the movement, the start of the final step to this work.

Or maybe Cal was just pretentious about it, who's to say.

"Wow, Cal, you're so good!"

The sudden voice made Cal jump and, even worse, almost draw a green line straight through the board and the almost finished drawing. He turned around to realize that everyone in the room was staring at him.

Maybe he should've thought this would happen, but he felt the heat on his cheeks rise nonetheless.

It was Sally-Anne who had spoken, turned around on her seat where she was facing Eleanor. Both were smiling. A few desks ahead, Jonathan had abandoned his reading and instead was looking at Cal with interest, head resting on his hand.  

Cal avoided all their eyes, fidgeting with the green marker instead "Um, thanks. Just a hobby, no big deal."

Sally-Anne raised her eyebrows. "Are you joking? This is amazing! It's like, the best Phantom art I've ever seen!"

Cal blushed even harder. "You're exaggerating, but thanks."

Eleanor gasped "Oh my God, no one better erase this! Quick, I need a picture!" she swiftly pulled out her phone and paused. "Hey Cal, can you like, put a signature somewhere on that? I need to take a pic."

Cal breathed out, muttering 'no problem' and obliged.

A stutter sound came from Eleanor's phone "Awesome! I'll send it to you if you want!"

Cal refused and Eleanor shrugged, sending it to Sally-Anne instead.

Soon everyone went back to what they were previously doing and Cal was happy to be ignored. Walking over to the teacher's desk to put the markers back (and maybe look for an eraser, if Eleanor and Sally-Anne didn't kill him first), he was suddenly aware of that ever-present yet so distant chill and his head snapped up towards the room.

At that moment, he locked eyes with Danny Fenton, and Cal froze.

It was impossible to pinpoint what was wrong exactly, which made things worse. Danny Fenton looked as he usually did; tired, bruised, head resting against his hand and unruly hair falling in his face. Yet there was something just wrong. His pallor was pale, unnervingly so, the bluing bruise against his cheek and graze on his lip contrasting dramatically against his skin. But his gaze was so sharp that Cal was sure that Danny could see right though his skin and into his brain.

It happened slowly, and then all at once.

Worst of all, Cal now knew where that ever so familiar chill came from, and he was almost shocked he didn't recognize it before. The aura of the dead was practically oozing off Danny Fenton.

Time felt like it was slowing down as Cal was locked in by those eyes, a shade of blue so cold it was painful and, for the first time, Cal realized that he was seeing Danny Fenton.

Cal wasn't sure how long he was trapped under that gaze. It felt like eons, but it couldn't have been more than seconds. As he felt his brain melt under the realization that something was frighteningly wrong with one of the people he knew, something happened that shocked him out of his spiraling.

Danny smiled. The faintest, most tired lift of lips, yet it was enough to transform the aura of wrong and that trapping stare, like deciding to let free an animal that was going to become dinner.

Just like that, with a movement so simple, the chill was passive again. Cal smiled back.

Feeling like he was floating, Cal went back to his desk. He took a seat as the bell rang and his classmates soon started filtering in, all of them taking a moment to show various levels of awe towards his drawing.

Throughout it all, Cal kept his head tilted and one eye, watching Danny's reaction. To anyone else, he looked like he had just woken up from a nap, groggy and unfocused. But Cal now knew better. He had realized the wrongness, and knew there was more hidden behind these icy eyes.

He didn't know what, he didn't know how. He didn't know when it had started, or why, but there was one thing Cal was sure of.

There was something very wrong with Danny Fenton.

#I'm not a fic writer so I hope this was ok asdfghjkl #anyway #merry crisis #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp art #danny phantom art #phart #phanart #danny phantom fanfiction #cryptid danny #outsider pov #danny fenton is creepy #phandom christmas truce 2023 #Christmas #Fanfiction #Fic gift #Phandom #phantom

[infinitystoner]

Underneath the Tree

AO3 | Masterlist

✨part of @sarahscribbles’ Christmas Collection; header by @inklore✨

Summary: You’re expecting to spend the holidays without your other half. So when Loki reappears the night before Christmas, you indulge in a little merriment to make up for lost time.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags/Content: Holiday Surprises Befitting the God of Mischief, Romantic Reunions, Fluff, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Anal Sex), Soft Dom! Loki, Established Relationship

Rating: Explicit; 18+

Author’s note: Here be the Yuletide filth! I realize butt stuff isn’t for everyone, but it’s actually really soft and sweet (and not overly explicit). If you like my writing, I hope you give it a chance. xx

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention as you pad across the kitchen floor, unnerved by the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You abandon your post-bath time snack on the counter, clutching at your bathrobe as trepidation gnaws at the back of your mind.

With the curtains drawn, only the glimmering lights on your Christmas tree illuminate the living room. It’s hard to see anything beyond silhouettes and shadows. A quiet night like this amidst the bustling holiday season is a rare treat, and you should be grateful and relaxed, but you just can’t shake the feeling that you’re not alone. 

You try to ignore the frantic beat of your pulse thundering in your ears as you inch closer to the tree. Did someone break in while you were in the shower? The rational part of your brain knows it’s downright laughable to entertain such a thought. A security breach is practically impossible thanks to Tony’s impenetrable tech. Unless…

“You’re back,” you say cautiously, voice no louder than a whisper. 

A surge of longing permeates your being, doing little to appease the rapid beating of your heart. The familiar shuffle of centuries-old leather catches your attention, all fear melting away as you turn to see a formidable figure emerge from the corner. 

Loki.

“I’m back,” he responds simply. 

He closes in, his gaze never leaving yours, the purposeful sound of his heavy boots on your hardwood floors resonating through the space. Loki’s presence is a solace you can’t quite articulate—but suddenly there’s a warmth filling the cracks that etched across your heart when he left. And there’s a calm wrapping around your solitude like a cozy blanket on the coldest winter night.  

You study the god before you, the Christmas lights casting a soft glow over his figure. His dark curls fall in waves atop his shoulders, regally framing his perfectly sculpted features. His brows slant upward as he drinks in the sight of you, a dimple appearing along his cheek as he returns your smile. When he slides his hands around your waist, your stomach somersaults at his touch.

You take a deep breath and reach up to cup his jaw, savoring the coolness of his smooth skin. Loki leans into your palm, closing his eyes and exhaling a deep sigh. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. You can’t resist the urge to pull him into a tight embrace, humming as his strong arms wrap around you in response.

He tenderly presses a kiss to your temple, tugging you closer against his muscular chest. The scent of ancient forests, leather, and musk—along with something sweeter you can’t quite place—invades your senses. Finally, he breaks the comfortable silence. 

“Did you miss me?”

Loki searches your eyes, a hint of apprehension marring his beautiful face. He’s only been gone for about six weeks—which is nothing compared to the months you previously spent without him. But how did you ever think you’d be okay spending the holiday without him? 

You glance up at him with feigned exasperation.

“Of course I missed you, you silly, gorgeous man. But did it ever occur to you to knock? Or call ahead? Perhaps send a raven?” 

A devilish smirk adorns lips. “Now where’s the fun in that?” 

“But what if I’d attacked you? I wasn’t expecting you back until after–” 

“Attacked me?” Loki chuckles, sitting on the sofa and pulling you onto his lap. “Now that I’d like to see.” 

“Is that so?” you ask, caressing the gold plating embellishing his chest and trailing your fingertips across the high collar of his leathers, stopping only when you reach the sharp juncture of his jaw. He peers up at you as you straddle his hips, and the glint of mischief in his eyes is exhilarating. 

“Mm, perhaps later, my little vixen.” 

With a flick of his wrist, a fire roars to life in your hearth. Beyond the crackles and pops of the blaze, a familiar Christmas song begins to play and you swear more twinkling lights appear on your tree. You’re not sure if the night can get more perfect than this.

“What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of this time of year? Season’s Greetings?” 

“Something like that.” 

“You know, we host a similar winter festival on Asgard,” he explains as you tuck his hair behind his ear, exposing the column of his neck. “It’s rather extravagant. Hedonistic, some might say.”

“So, you willingly left the decadence of Asgard. To spend Christmas on Earth. With me.” 

“Is that really so inconceivable, my love? I am, to borrow another turn of phrase, quite smitten, I’m afraid.” 

“Just wanted to be sure,” you tease, but a familiar tingling sparks in your core at his admission. Sometimes you can hardly believe this man—this god—fell so hopelessly in love with you. Of course, you have your issues like any other couple. Dating an alien who once tried to take over your planet does not come without consequence. But, oh, the way he’s looking at you now makes it all worth it. 

“And I believe this is a holiday spent in the company of those you care about, is it not?” he continues. “Besides, Mother quickly picked up on the fact I was more distracted than usual and blessed my departure.”  

“Must remember to thank Frigga for this Christmas surprise,” you joke, pretending to jot down a note. 

The curious arch of Loki’s brows soon contorts into an expression of ecstasy as you begin to work your lips along the column of his neck, nipping at his skin.

“Gods,” he quietly says, shifting beneath you and tightening his grip on your waist. His low rumble of pleasure is a sound you can happily lose yourself in. With a final press of your tongue to the erogenous zone below his ear, you lean back, but Loki is quick to capture your lips in a blistering kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close and savoring the taste of him. A trace of mulled wine lingers on his mouth, and you wonder if he left Asgard in the midst of the aforementioned Yuletide celebration. 

“So, are you going to tell me?” you murmur against his lips. “Or am I to believe it was only the thought of startling me in the middle of the night that drew you away from your royal duties?”

“What?” Loki’s brows furrow in sincere confusion, his mouth agape.

“You said you were distracted…”

“Oh, yes. That.” The knowing glance he gives you in response sends a jolt of arousal coursing through your body. He clears his throat, running his hands under the curve of your ass before rolling you over onto your back.

“I was distracted by you,” he says, pulling your robe open. “You infiltrated my every waking thought, you infuriating woman.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” you giggle, biting your bottom lip as he magicks away his armor. His alabaster skin is ethereal under the amber glow of the blazing fire, every dip of his chiseled torso cast in devastating shadows, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he leans over you. Your fingertips ghost over the fine smattering of hair below his navel, their sensuous journey interrupted by a band of leather. You whine, tugging at his trousers. 

“Patience, darling,” he snickers, kissing along your collarbone. His tongue flits along the valley of your breasts and a white hot heat coils in your hips. Loki tilts his chin up, darkened eyes piercing your very soul. “I’m not going anywhere.”  

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he moves against your skin. You arch into him with a gasp, fingers digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders, his lithe muscles rippling under your touch.

“And we’ve both been so very patient, haven’t we?”

A wolfish grin creeps across his face as he tenderly pushes your thighs toward your stomach, his hands pushing your knees outward as you offer yourself up to him. You’re completely exposed, but any hint of inhibition dissipates as you note the unadulterated lust in your lover’s eyes.

Loki inhales sharply, greedily consuming what little air is left between you. Within seconds his mouth is warm against your cunt, and a broken moan escapes you. You twist your fingers into his hair as your entire body shudders in response to his enthusiastic movements, your frenzied mind attempting to process the situation. Twenty minutes ago, you were content with the idea of crawling into bed with a tin of shortbread and a good book. And now? Well, if you’re not careful, you’re going to come before things even get started. Loki realizes this and lightly grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his hair and guiding it behind your knee.

“Here,” he says, his hand engulfing yours as he presses it firmly against the back of your trembling thigh. Your pussy clenches at his simple command as you obediently move your legs further apart, contorting your body to his will. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you—all of you—as you settle into the new position, your back relaxing into the softness of the cushions beneath you.

The soles of your feet brace against his clavicles as he dips back between your legs, sucking at the soft flesh along your inner thigh before returning his attention to your core. When his eager tongue glides past your cunt to circle the sensitive area further down, you nearly levitate off the sofa. 

Loki groans as he laps at you, his sinful slurps creating an intoxicating melody in your mind, the Christmas music long forgotten. You choke on air as the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, languidly rubbing circles as his tongue continues to explore your hole. The novel sensation is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

Thoughts of experiencing Loki this way had dwelled in the dark recesses of your mind for months now. You’d shamelessly pleaded for it during your last night together all those weeks ago while in the throes of passion. But Loki, with his silver tongue and roguish charm, was infuriatingly persuasive and surprisingly sensible. And so you had agreed to wait.

“Don’t tempt me, little one,” he had coyly responded as he slid the tip of his cock along the curve of your ass, trailing down until he made contact with your cunt. Yet the intensity with which his fingers dug into your hips as you begged for more let you know he wanted it just as much as you did.

“Something to look forward to,” he’d mumbled into your ear as he pressed his firm chest against your back, the sheen of sweat coating your skin intermingling with his as he buried himself inside your cunt for the third time that evening.

Your wait, it seems, is over.

“Norns, you’re divine,” Loki says, lifting his head to peer at you across your heaving torso. He continues rolling his thumb over your clit as he kisses along your stomach, his soft curls falling across your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Shall I keep going?”

“Yes,” you rasp, doing little to conceal the urgent need in your voice. “But don’t we need the–”

You nod toward the bedroom, alluding to the bottle of lube tucked away in your nightstand. But the words catch in the back of your throat as a cool, lubricated finger nudges where Loki’s mouth had just been. You glance down at the god, furrowing your brow as you observe a flash of seidr ignite the space between you. 

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Loki lets out a breathy laugh as he looks up from his spot between your legs, his eyes dark with desire. His raven hair falls in a curtain around his face as his gaze darts back down to your center. 

“I’m giving you exactly what you asked for.” Loki grins, slowly pressing his middle finger inside you. You nearly sob as your anticipation is engulfed by a rush of euphoria.

“I’m giving you all of me,” he adds, an exhilarating ache rippling through your core as a second finger joins the first.

“Oh my god,” you  cry out as the blend of forbidden and familiar pleasure overwhelms your senses. Loki’s fingers steadily move inside you while he licks a wide stripe through your folds and you toss your head back with a hiss. 

“Relax, love,” he says softly, wrapping a large hand behind your knee and guiding it over his shoulder. As you settle into the new position, Loki’s gifted tongue swirls around your throbbing clit, the skillful drag of it sending adrenaline searing through every nerve ending in your body.

“You’re doing so good,” he continues, his voice ragged and deep as he watches you squirm beneath him.

“S-so good,” you echo, keening at his praise. “Loki—fuck—you feel so good.”

He continues to gently move his fingers inside you, pushing deeper with each pump until you feel his palm flatten against your cunt. You slur his name, winding your fingers into his hair once more in an attempt to ground yourself. It doesn’t work. 

“More. Please,” you beg, the words tumbling from your lips without conscious thought. Loki responds by stilling his motions and removing his fingers from you. You huff, pushing yourself up into a seated position and forcing Loki to shuffle onto his knees to avoid sliding off the edge of the sofa. What the hell? 

“Loki…” you caution, your heart wildly beating in your chest as he tauntingly returns your gaze. He simply laughs, clearly amused by your little display of assertiveness.

“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?” he says, hands trailing up your thighs and around the curve of your ass. You both know you’re at his mercy tonight. “I knew I saw your name on the naughty list.” 

“You’re not playing fair.” 

No, he’s just playing on his own terms. Taunting you like he always does—a cat toying with his mouse. 

“I’m merely trying to determine exactly how much more you can take,” he drawls as he nuzzles his nose along your neck.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you respond coyly, running your fingertips along his leather-clad erection.

You know he can see right through you, can sense the way he’s driving you mad. And before you can give your next bratty retort, Loki tightens his grip on your ass and forcefully pulls you toward him. As your bare chest makes contact with his, a shiver rolls down your spine.

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, reveling in the power he possesses. You moan into his mouth as his hands roam your body with a hunger that leaves you breathless. All that matters is the feel of his tongue against yours, the touch of his cool hands on your heated skin. Your pulse quickens as Loki pulls away to admire you, his eyes glazed over with lust. You need him. All of him. Now.

“And I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this, Loki,” you concede breathlessly. “I want you.”

“Words cannot convey how much I want this—want you—in return, my love.” A reassuring smile spreads across his features as he coaxes you to lie back down. Your heartbeat thrums with excitement as you comply with his request, and as you open your legs for him once more, you feel his eyes burning into your skin like a fiery brand.

“You’re sure?” Loki asks quietly, dropping his mask of dominance a moment as he brushes a finger along your slit, skimming the delicate skin between your ass cheeks with the pad of his thumb. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper as he finally—completely—undresses himself in a wave of gold.

Stunning, you think, taking in the vision of Loki kneeling between your legs. His chest heaves with each shallow breath, his cock resting heavy against his muscular thigh. You let out a small whine when his hand leaves your body, wrapping it around the base of his shaft instead. He tosses his head back, and the small grunt that tumbles from his lips as he begins to stroke himself is positively sinful.

“Say it again. Please,” he chokes out, tugging the foreskin over the glistening, swollen head of his cock.

“I need you, Loki,” you say, shifting against the blankets and cushions.

He’s unwaveringly graceful as he guides your legs around his hips, positioning himself above you as the tip of his cock presses into your tight entrance. The pressure is beyond anything you’ve experienced before, and for a fleeting moment, your eyes widen in trepidation. 

“Breathe, darling one.” 

And so you do. Loki guides your breaths as he steadily stretches you to what you’re certain is your limit. You begin to lose yourself as the heady scent of sex wisps through the room like tendrils of Loki’s seidr, entwining with the heightened groans of carnal bliss. 

“Talk to me. Are you okay?” 

“So full. But… but good,” you manage to say, and it’s the truth. As your body relaxes into his movements, everything becomes more comfortable. Your hands graze down his back until they find the firm swell of his ass, pulling him deeper.

Loki growls out an old Norse curse as he bottoms out—his hip bones flush against the back of your thighs. You’ve never taken this much of him before, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You clench in response. 

“My perfect girl,” he praises. With controlled precision, he starts to rock into you and every throbbing inch of his cock drags against your walls in the most delicious way. Soon, his fingers are circling your swollen clit and the pressure in your hips becomes too much to bear.

“So perfect,” he repeats between grunts, your body writhing as he brings you closer and closer to release. Like a caged bird set free, you soar higher and higher, the world spreading beneath you in all its glory as you ascend toward the stars. With one final thrust, you come undone.

Loki presses his forehead to yours as a strangled whimper rips from his throat, his own orgasm quickly following yours. 

You stay like that for a while, a tangle of limbs and heaving breaths on your sofa. Eventually, everything comes back into focus: the fire, the music, the twinkling tree. 

“That was quite the gift,” you say as Loki settles beside you. 

“Certainly, you don’t think that was your only gift?” He tuts and casts you a rakish wink. “Your next surprise awaits you in the bedroom.” 

You giggle as Loki stands and scoops you into his arms. 

“Honestly. What kind of imbecile gives their love only one orgasm on Christmas Eve?” 

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#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki #loki x you #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #merry christmas ya filthy animals

[7s3ven]

BUY ME PRESENTS. harry potter

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N’s situationship, Matteo Riddle, isn’t the best boyfriend material and when he forgets to buy her a Christmas present, she finally breaks it off. Luckily, she knows someone who’ll do everything Matteo didn’t.

“Some guys get the girl everybody wants and forget she’s still the girl everybody wants.”

MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! - 25/12/2023

Warning: Matteo and Y/N kinda swear a lot, oh well

“It's a packed holiday and I got options, babe. If you don't wanna buy me presents. Drink me like a warm glass of milk

If you're not gonna race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep my stocking filled. Well, I know somebody who will.”

—

Christmas and winter was a big deal at Hogwarts. Long strings of tinsel littered the stone hallways and shiny, delicate ornaments were hung up everywhere.

A H/C-haired girl rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited outside the Slytherin common room. She sighed, clicking her tongue. “What’s taking him so long?” She whispered under her breath.

Matteo was usually one to be late, but not on important days. Today was Christmas for goodness sake, Y/N’s favorite holiday.

Finally, the door to the common room slid open and Matteo walked out. His white shirt was messily tucked into his pants and the top few buttons were undone, irking Y/N who always looked perfect.

“Yo, Clarisse said you wanted to talk to me. Shoot.” Matteo shoved his hands into his pockets while Y/N lightly scoffed.

“Did you forget what day it is?” She questioned, arching an eyebrow. If the present in her hand didn’t give it away then she didn’t know what else would.

“Monday?”

“It’s Christmas, Matteo.” Y/N uttered, “Does that jog your memory?”

“Oh, yeah. I just woke up so I’m still dazed.”

Y/N could smell the cigarette smoke in his breath. “Or stoned. Why are you still smoking? You know how I hate it.”

Matteo carelessly shrugged. “It relieves stress, babe. I am quitting. Just give me like, two more months and I’ll be done.”

Y/N bit back a snarky retort. He always said he was quitting but he never actually did. “Well, anyway, I got you a gift. Merry Christmas, Matt.” She held the box up, smiling.

Matteo slowly took it. He opened the lid, his eyebrows raising at what was inside. “You got me… something from Vivienne Westwood?” It was clear that Matteo wasn’t as rich as his Slytherin friends were. With no parents or caretaker, all he could do was leech off people.

“It’s a lighter. You never light the candles in your room, which is… weird because that’s what they’re for. But, I guess you can use it to light cigars too. I also overheard Draco complaining about how he doesn’t have that but wants it. You can fit in with your friends with it.” Y/N shrugged.

“Jeez. This must’ve cost a lot.” Matteo held the lighter in his hand, whistling at how it shined. “Fucking hell.”

“Hey, Matty, we’re gonna open presents. You joining us?” A slim blond girl peeked her head out of the common room, grinning. “I got you a real good present this time.”

“You’re too sweet, Lina. I’ll be in a minute. I think you’ll like your present too.” Matteo chuckled before he glanced back at Y/N. “What are you still doing here?”

“What? No present for me?” Y/N said it in a joking manner to hide the pit she felt in her stomach.

“Why would I get you something?”

Y/N lightly scoffed. “I don’t know, Matteo. Maybe because we’ve been seeing each other for the past year?”

“Hey. We haven’t been seeing each other. I just find you when I want a good fuck. Know your place, Y/N. It’s not like we’re dating.”

Y/N sharply clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Right.” She sarcastically smiled, “What was I thinking? My place is obviously to be at your beck and call. My apologies for the mixup. Have a good day, Matteo.”

Y/N spun around, walking away. She heard Matteo laugh in disbelief and one part of her wished he would run after her and hand her a gift. He didn’t. He strutted back into the Slytherin chamber and back to those insufferable girls.

Y/N sat on the stairs amongst the green, red, and white decorations, staring at the ground. She was clad in a short black and white fur blazer and a skirt. Fleece leggings lined her legs, keeping her warm, and she had her Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around her neck.

She lightly sniffled, playing with a silver bracelet her friend had given to her as an early present. She wasn’t too sure what she was upset about right now.

Perhaps it was because she was lonely in the Ravenclaw common room. Everybody was gone, not even her study partner had stayed behind this year. Or maybe it was because of a certain brown-haired boy who was as heartless and oblivious as always.

It was most likely the latter.

Y/N wanted to feel happy, especially since today was Christmas, a holiday she enjoyed a little too much. But with no friends to laugh with, no family to return to, and not even a boy to sit next to the fire with, she felt sad.

“Are you actually crying?”

Y/N hadn’t even noticed Matteo approach her until it was too late. At least he had thought twice before leaving her alone.

He stood in front of her, fiddling with the multiple rings that adorned his long fingers. “Seriously, Y/N? Just because I didn’t get you a Christmas gift?”

Y/N glared up at him. “Can you try being nice for one second? Who knows, you might like it.” Throughout the whole year, Matteo and Y/N had something going on. They were never in a confirmed relationship but they weren’t merely friends either.

Though, in the past few months, the two couldn’t seem to stop bantering.

“Look, I’ll get you a gift tomorrow. Happy?”

Y/N quietly scoffed as she stood up. “No. You always forget things like these, Matteo. It’s getting annoying.” Y/N turned around to walk up the stairs but she barely took two steps before Matteo grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend Christmas together.”

Y/N tauntingly raised an eyebrow at Matteo. “You were giving me the silent treatment up until now. I had to bribe that girl, Clair or whatever her name was, to let me see you.”

“Her name is Clarisse.” Matteo corrected her.

Y/N stared at him, wondering how he thought it was a good time to correct her. “What? I’m trying to make a point here and you’re concerned about her name? Unbelievable. Maybe I should find some people who actually enjoy my presence.”

Matteo sneered. “So, what? You just gonna go back to that Potter boy? You’re leading him on, Y/N. We both know your heart belongs to me.”

“Belonged.” Y/N corrected him, “Past tense. This thing we have between us is done. I’m not going to be a stupid late night call for you anymore.” She forced Matteo to let go of her and walked away, ignoring his shouts that echoed around the corridors.

“I taught you everything! I taught you how to stand up for yourself! I made you popular! I practically created you from nothing!” Matteo angrily exclaimed at the bottom of the steps. “You can’t leave me!”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at the enraged brunette. She smiled. “Watch me.”

The last thing Y/N heard Matteo say was when he furiously shouted her name, his booming voice showcasing his fiery rage.

Y/N knocked against the Gryffindor painting, sighing. The Fat Lady seemed to notice her mood.

“What happened this time?” She asked. Matteo and Y/N were no secret; they were the talk of the school with Matteo being Voldemort’s son and Y/N’s cousin being a death-eater. A year ago, it was even rumoured she was one herself.

Y/N stared up at the Fat Lady with teary eyes. “Matteo. I… broke it off with me.”

“Oh, honey, I know it may not seem like it now, but it was the right decision.”

Y/N softly smiled. “I know… I know.”

“Are you here to see the Potter boy?”

“Yes. Is he here?” Y/N wasn’t even sure if Harry was at Hogwarts. During second year, he had gone to stay with Ron.

“Of course. And the Weasley boy and the Granger girl. They’re all here.” The Fat Lady swung backwards, smiling, “Go on, dear.”

Y/N stepped into the Gryffindor common room, looking around. “Harry? Hello? Anybody here?” The room was empty. Y/N glanced over at the crackling fire and went to sit beside it, warning her cold hands.

She quietly clicked her tongue, staring at the blazing flames.

“Y/N?” Hermione questioned, walking up behind the H/C-nette, “What’s wrong?” Y/N quickly stood up, embracing her brown-haired friend into a tight hug.

“I did it.” She whispered, “I ended things with Matt- I mean, Riddle.”

“Oh… Are you feeling okay?” Hermione gently sat Y/N down on the couch, rubbing comforting circles into her back. “Do you want anything? Any water or food?”

Y/N stared at her hands. “Is… Harry here?”

“Yeah. I’ll get him.” Hermione stood up and went to fetch the boy. “She and Matteo broke things off.” She whispered in Harry’s ear, which sent a rush of excitement through the brunette. He never did like Matteo after all. He was a playboy to put it simply. Not only that, but for the longest time Harry had liked Y/N.

Matteo didn’t appreciate her but Harry did. He could treat her better than Matteo ever could.

“Hermione told me what happened. Are you okay?” Harry sat down beside Y/N, holding a neatly wrapped present. He heard Y/N heave a sigh.

“I think… I mean, obviously I’m a little sad but it feels good knowing I won’t have to deal with his annoying ass again.” Y/N uttered, eliciting a small amused chuckle out of Harry.

“Yeah… I got you something, by the way.” Harry handed the gift over to Y/N with shaking hands.

“Oh… that’s sweet. You didn’t have to.” She smiled, carefully unwrapping the present.

“I wanted to… you said that was your favorite book so I bought you the limited edition cover one… with a bit more.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in confusion as Harry. She slowly opened the novel to a page tabbed with a (favorite color) sticker note.

Merry Christmas, Y/N. Thank you for being such a loyal fan throughout my career.

- Your favorite author

Underneath the short message was the writer’s signature as well as a polaroid picture of Harry and the author.

“Oh my gosh… how did you… what…” Y/N was at a loss for words as she turned to Harry and tightly hugged him. “I don’t have a present for you… I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled as Y/N pulled away. “It’s fine. Having you here makes up for it.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I can buy you something tomorrow. Or I’m sure I have a have a golden snitch lying around here somewhere.” Y/N pulled a snitch from out of her pocket, “Remember this, Harry? You almost choked to death on it in your first game.”

“What the… how did you…” Harry was as flabbergasted as Y/N now. She laughed, handing it over to him.

“Well, after you almost swallowed it, nobody really wanted to play with it anymore. So I asked Wood to get it for me. We spent a good time cleaning it.”

Harry chuckled, staring at the small golden ball in awe. “That’s… amazing. Jeez. Riddle really doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s shoulders visibly shrunk at the mentioning of the brunette’s name.

“Oh…” Harry instantly noticed, “Sorry, too soon?”

Y/N silently shook her head. “No… I’m fine…” She turned her head, beaming at Harry with a smile that made him melt. “You’re right, he didn’t deserve me. Thank you for the book, Harry. It’s wonderful.”

She embraced him once again and Harry could feel his cheeks heat up at the contact. There was a small jingle and as Y/N lifted her head, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Mistletoe floated above the pair, jingling as if to remind the two it was there. Harry gazed over Y/N’s shoulder at Ron, who held his wand in one hand and was giving Harry a thumbs up with the other.

“It’d be rude to defy the rules of Christmas, especially with how much you love it.” Harry uttered.

Y/N laughed again. “I suppose so.”

“You don’t have to kiss me for real. You can kiss me on the cheek or something or”- Harry was cut off when Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward and kissing him.

Harry was the complete opposite of Matteo. The Slytherin boy was rough and uncaring while Harry was soft and gentle. The brunette with glasses carefully grasped Y/N’s hands, squeezing them tightly.

“I don’t know if this is too soon, Y/N.” Harry said as he pulled away slightly. “But, I like you. I’ve liked you for ages. Ever since first year. And the only reason I didn’t like Riddle was because I hated how he had managed to attract your attention. I think you’re wonderful and you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like Riddle. You don’t have to give me your answer now… but just consider it.”

Y/N gazed at Harry, her heart doing flips in her chest. This was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. She shyly adverted her eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say Harry. I think I like you too… but I feel like it’s too soon.”

“I don’t mind waiting. I just need you to know that I’m willing to race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep your stocking filled.”

Y/N giggled. “That’s cute, Harry.” She leaned forward, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

START OF TERM (BONUS)…

“What the fuck, asshole?!” Matteo’s loud shout caused the Great Hall to fall into silence. They all watched as he stormed towards the Gryffindor table, slamming his hands in front of Harry. “You kissed my girl!” He exclaimed.

Y/N turned her head, staring at Matteo with furrowed eyebrows.

“What’s going on?” Her friend tugged on her sleeve.

“I’m… not sure.” Y/N replied, craning to get a better look.

“What are you talking about, Riddle?” Harry asked, confused.

“You know who the fuck I’m talking about! Y/N fucking L/N! You kissed her!” Matteo was getting angrier by the second.

“Hey, dude, relax.” Lorenzo grabbed Matteo by the shoulders, forcing him out of the Great Hall. The rest of his friend group followed.

Y/N sighed, standing up. “I’m going to talk to Matteo.” She announced.

“What? Are you crazy?” Her friend tried to get Y/N to sit back down again.

“He deserves an explanation… and I also want to make it clear that we’re no longer a thing.” Y/N followed after the Slytherin gang and jogged to walk beside Pansy, who was lagging behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” Y/N questioned Pansy, who seemed to like her the best out of all the girls Matteo hooked up with.

“I don’t know.” Pansy sighed, “He just started acting mental after he found out you and Potter were going out. But, he doesn’t really deserve to be mad when it’s his fault.”

“Matt, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Theodore asked as Matteo silently seethed.

“I fucking hate Potter.” He uttered through gritted teeth. He looked up, spotting Y/N. Instantly, the fire in his eyes disappeared.

“Riddle.” Y/N greeted him calmly, nodding her head in acknowledgment. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“Why did you kiss Potter?” Matteo demanded, clenching his hands into fists.

“Why can’t I? I’m free to do whatever I want. After all, it’s not like we’re dating, right? You said it yourself.”

Matteo angrily exhaled.

“Besides, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me, Matteo?” Y/N taunted. “Like you said last year because you didn’t want to commit to someone? Instead of committing to a girl, you would rather kill her?”

“It was a joke!”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny! Fuck you, Matteo! You piece of shit!”

Matteo, in a surge of rage, grabbed Y/N by the collar. Lorenzo stepped forward to interrupt the situation, but Harry beat him to it.

“Don’t touch her.” Harry glowered at Matteo as he pulled Y/N away from his grasp. “You made your choice. Deal with it because it’s your fault you lost Y/N in the first place.”

Y/N sighed, brushing the wrinkles out of her blouse. “I hope we can talk again under better circumstances, Riddle. Good day.”

Y/N walked off and Harry followed close behind.

“How good did that feel?” He questioned, grinning.

“It felt amazing!” Y/N grinned, “I can’t believe I just sweared at the Matteo Riddle and got away with it.”

“So, what do you say we have some fruitcakes and figgy pudding to celebrate?” Harry slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder while she playfully scoffed.

“It’s January, Harry.”

“Yeah? So? It’s never too early to celebrate Christmas.”

#harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #matteo riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #hermione granger #ron weasley #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #gryffindor #quidditch #harry potter #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses #merry christmas #christmas special #oneshot

[twdxtrevor]

Merry fucking christmas you sorry sack of shits!

#twd #the walking dead #negan smith #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #jdmorgan #jdm #negan the walking dead #negan twd #negan fanfiction #negan imagine #negan meme #negan smith x reader #negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan x you #happy holidays #merry christmas

[denaliwrites]

Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor catches you being naughty in the TARDIS.

Soundtrack: A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

Warnings: Canon-Typical Christmas Peril.

"What the hell are you doing?" the Doctor's good-natured question drifted your way from the TARDIS doors.

You looked over and froze, caught right in the middle of hanging a bauble up on a bit of tinsel you'd thrown over one of those... branchy bits? of the TARDIS. "Uh... decorating...?" you answered hesitantly.

"I seem to recall," the Doctor started, pacing over to you in a way that reminded you a little of a predator stalking prey.

That was not very comforting.

"I seem to recall," he repeated as he finally reached you, a brow -- and his lips -- cocked in a smug expression, "that I expressly told you not to deck the TARDIS's halls."

"It's such a good thing that this isn't a hall, then, isn't it?" you answered back cheekily.

The Doctor's smug smirk relaxed into an easygoing smile, tongue clicking approvingly. "Very clever," he said, and while it sounded a little teasing, it also sounded genuine. You blushed. "Carry on, then!"

You watched him bound over to the console and fiddle with some of the controls before you resumed your decorating. A bauble there, a wreath there. You even circled the console in string lights -- at first, the Doctor looked on disapprovingly, but when you silently threatened to tie him up to the console with the lights, he changed his tune and you carried on.

He let you go about the place setting things up all day. By the end of it, when you collapsed against the console and slid down to rest on your ass, you were exhausted -- and every so slightly tangled up in some leftover tinsel and lights.

The Doctor crouched beside you and began gently plucking the holiday decor from your person. "Satisfied, are you?" he asked with a smile.

You nodded with a sigh. "All that's left is the tree."

"Sorry, tree?"

"Yeah, the tree you brought in?" You pointed over to one of the corners, where a tall and beautiful tree stood, practically begging to be decorated.

"I didn't bring a tree in. I assumed you'd brought it in."

You blinked, looking over at it with a quirked brow. "What do you mean, you didn't bring it in? One of us had to, and it wasn't me. That leaves you, Doctor."

"It wasn't me." You didn't like how tense the Doctor suddenly seemed.

"But... it had to be you. Is your memory going? I know you're old, but I didn't think Time Lords could have dementia--" Your voice caught as you noticed that some of the branches on the tree had started spinning, and that they were picking up speed.

The Doctor groaned. "Oh, not this again."

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant #MERRY CRISIS

[ginevrapng]

one of your favourite times of the year now that you're together with george is christmas. you thought when you were younger that christmas at hogwarts was amazing but christmas at the weasleys? well that's perfection.

christmas feasts at hogwarts may have been good but it doesn't compare to molly's christmas dinner. baking gingerbread with ginny and trying to convince percy to relax for a while and stop thinking about work because it's the holidays. getting competitive with ron while playing wizards chess and becoming smug whenever you win. sitting by the fire drinking hot chocolate with hermione and watching as fred and george prank percy for the tenth time in a week.

spending time with george is the best part though, like falling asleep in your boyfriends lap while he plays with your hair and how he wraps his arms around you at all times because you're cold and he also needs to be touching you at all times, if not he misses you but he won't tell you that, you'll just have to figure that out by his facial expression. of course you know that whenever you leave the comfort and warmth of george's arms that he misses you and you miss it to but you sometimes do it on purpose just to see his face making you giggle before practically flinging yourself against him.

you don't buy anything big for each other, even now that he earns enough money with the shop you still buy each other small things. neither of you like the idea of buying something big because you want to buy something intimate for each other. sometimes you'll spend hours make something yourself to give to him and write him a loving christmas card to go with it. one year george wrapped up a singular firework and it came with a note saying it's custom made. when lit both your names appeared in the sky with a heart, underneath saying together forever.

every year george comes up to you holding mistletoe on christmas day asking for a kiss. on occasion late at night when you're both half asleep george will talk to you about all the plans and ideas he has for the new year with you. when he thinks you're completely asleep he'll kiss the top of your head and talk about all future christmases and how he can't wait to spend every winter for the rest of his life with you. he'll talk about how next year his present to you is going to be an engagement ring.

#MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE XX #george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x reader fluff #hp fluff #harry potter fluff #hp x reader fluff #hp x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x reader fluff #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #♡ george #♡ mine / writing

[swordsmans]

wood is a living creature

They keep her—history’s forgotten hero, the first great ship of the second Pirate King.

pairing: monkey d. luffy/roronoa zoro (implied)

word count: 3363

ao3 tags: no archive warnings apply; going merry; the dinghy gets her own kind of klabautermann

#zolu #op fanfic #opfanfic #one piece fanfiction #ooooh merry. #anyway. back to monster trio angst! #[[jazz hands]] #gyro.rtf

[ughgoaway]

White Christmas

Content warnings; blowjobs, face fucking, facials/cumming on face, degrading, dumbification, swearing, bad writing and cumplay.

a/n; hey y’all… apparently we are feeling horny this Christmas, so I decided to write some (mediocre) smut! This was all inspired by @abiiors making a joke about a “white Christmas” so you all have her to blame. This is basically an expansion of the letters O and K from my nsfw alphabet the other day because they were some of my favourite bits!! Anyway, merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy??

p.s; im not sure if this will stay up long, ik I say that most times, but honestly, this time, I really don't know if this will be here long lmaoooo

word count; 2.2k ish (pretty short one today bc i wrote it so last minute lol)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“We’re off now! See you both in a few hours!” Denise yelled back as she and Annie walked out the front door. Mayhem was pulling at the lead with so much strength that she was sure he could pull her arm out of her socket. 

“Alright, see you both later!” You say waving them off. Denise and Annie had decided to take mayhem for a long Christmas walk around the lake and then planned on popping into the only cafe open on Christmas for a couple of hot chocolates, leaving you and Matty to relax on your own for a few hours.

You come into the front room and perch on the sofa next to Matty as he shoves the remaining wrapping paper in a bin bag. He was in full dad-at-Christmas mode, grabbing the paper off people before they'd even finished opening their presents.

He finally settled back on the sofa with a sigh, looking at you with love-filled eyes and a soft smile on his lips, it was then you decided it was the perfect time to show Matty his final gift.

“Okay, I've got one more present for you handsome” You smirk at Matty and stand from the sofa, hurrying towards your bedroom, brimming with anticipation. 

“Baby, we said only one gift each!” Matty shouts after you. He tries to sound stern, but he can't help the smile that sneaks on his face as he speaks, and it's clear as day in his voice. 

“You’ll like it, I promise” You peek your head around the corner and wink at Matty before scurrying off again, leaving him confused but certainly curious. 

5 minutes later, Matty hears you coming down the stairs and turns his head to see you, but snaps it right back when he hears you shout, “Okay, keep your eyes closed!!” he giggles to himself but follows your instructions, shutting his eyes tight. 

“Okay sweetheart, all closed” Matty yells back. He listens for you coming in and has to fight the urge to open them as soon as he feels your presence. 

Matty is pretty sure he could pick you out of a lineup blindfolded, from the first moment he met you he had memorised how you feel around him. He took note of the lingering jasmine that followed you wherever you went and the feeling of warmth that surrounded you.

“Open,” you say shyly. 

As Matty blinked open his eyes, and immediately his face scrunched in confusion. He was expecting you to be standing in front of him with a box in your arms, but there was no sign of you.

Or he thought there wasn't, until he felt a warm hand on his thigh and flicked his eyes downwards. 

“Fuck.” he grunted, staring down at you in awe. 

You were on your knees between his legs, dressed in only bright red lacy lingerie. Delicate bows sat at the top of the straps, in the centre of your chest, and at the waistband of your panties, with thin straps trailing over your collarbones. The lace was transparent, highlighting your pebbled nipples and weepy cunt. Matty could see the darker maroon lace of your panties and could feel himself salivating at the sight.

His stance widened instinctively, and you slid closer to him, already tracing his thigh with a featherlight touch. Red gloves cover your hands to match, the satin shining from the fairy lights spread around the room.

Also coordinating was your makeup. Matty watched your cherry-red glossy lips part as you palmed over his trousers, moaning obnoxiously at the feeling.

“What do you think, babe?” you ask sweetly, smiling at Matty and fluttering your mascara-coated eyelashes at him. Your hands unzip his trousers and fight to pull them down. Matty lifts his hips thoughtlessly, helping you tug down his slacks. He sits watching you with his jaw dropped, his hands itching to touch you.

But he stayed frozen, not wanting to take over your little surprise just yet.

Your sticky burgundy lips leave marks in your wake as you press kisses to his thigh, the gloss sticking to his leg with each peck. The tip of your tongue teases against his skin, running between the smears of red you left behind. 

With a pout, you sit back, pulling a frustrated groan from deep within Matty’s chest.

That was the final straw for him. You coming out dressed like that, all pretty and ready for him already had him fighting the instinct to throw you on this sofa and fuck you until you're sobbing.

But you teasing him with wet, barely-there kisses? He couldn't fucking cope.

He can't keep his hands to himself anymore, one shooting to your hair and gripping it firmly. The tug on your scalp causes a hiss to escape your scarlet lips, followed by a needy moan.

Matty had recently admitted to you that he had discovered a new kink, dumbificiation. also known as; you playing innocent and stupid as he fucked you ruthlessly and called you a cock-drunk slut. so you decide to play it up for him, indulge him in his fantasy.

“Will you show me how to suck you off? Please, sir, I need some help.” You whimper desperately, pleading eyes staring up at Matty. 

You both know you're lying, but somehow, that makes it even hotter for Matty, and he can feel his boxers tightening further.

“Oh is that right, angel?” Matty says with a chuckle, pulling at your hair harshly and forcing another whimper out of your kiss-bitten lips.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to tell you what to do. can you do that, baby? Listen to my instructions?” Matty looks down at you with faux sympathy, even pouting at you teasingly.

He moves his hand to paw at your chest, twisting a nipple cruelly, awaiting your response. 

Any chance at you forming a coherent sentence was gone as soon as you dropped to your knees. Seeing Matty's eyes go black and his breath beginning to quicken made your mind blank, the only thought left was his name over and over.

Matty's other hand moved to your face, caressing your cheek carefully and watching the pink bloom across them. You settle into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as you do. 

But a harsh slap makes you snap them right back open, the red print of his hand leaving a welt on your face. Tears brim in your eyes, and a needy whimper escapes you, involuntarily clenching your thighs at the feeling. 

“F-fuck” you splutter, already feeling tears fall down your cheek. Matty brings his hand back, and you flinch, sucking in a harsh breath, preparing for the impact. 

But nothing comes. 

Just the warmth of his palm against your flushed cheeks, you quiver at the contact. A sly smile takes over his features before his face settles back into a pout.

“Sorry baby, but you have to keep your eyes on me. How else are you gonna learn, hmm?” Matty teases cruelly, smirking at your fast, needy nods. His mind was spinning at the sight in front of him, his girlfriend so ready and needy for him.

“Oh baby, you can't even speak, huh? Well, if you can't do that, then you are definitely too dumb to understand any instructions, aren't you?” Matty asks, smiling at the pathetic cry that leaves your lips at his questions, embarrassed at the pool that is forming between your legs with each word he utters. 

“That's what I thought baby, let me look after you. I’m gonna fuck your mouth instead, okay? fuck you stupid yeah? Or, more stupid I should say.” He snickers at your face, admiring the hazy look in your eyes. Already slipping into subspace without even really touching him. 

You nod rapidly at him, already eagerly opening your mouth. Matty pulls himself out of his boxers, and you have to fight the ragged groan that threatens to escape you at the sight. 

Hot beads of precum dribble down his shaft, his tip red and angry. You can feel the saliva pooling on your tongue. Matty groans as he grabs his cock and brings it to your lips, but he manages fights the urge to push into your throat for a few more seconds. Determined to torture you a little more.

Matty taunts you by tapping his tip against your bottom lip, smirking at the stings of gloss that come between you, watching the streams of red fall down your chin. A breathless moan from you has Matty grinning before slipping into your greedy throat. 

He grunts at the warm and wet feeling that surrounds him, starting slowly as he ruts into you.

Soon enough, his hips start to snap harshly, increasing in pace as he throws his head back with a wrecked groan. Each plunge into your throat happened faster than the last, and Matty chuckled darkly at the feeling of you drooling around him already.

the sensation drove matty insane. He used to dream of you like this for him, and seeing it in reality was something he would never get used to. all those nights of him fucking his first and whimpering your name were a distant memory as discordant moans left his bitten lips.

“That's it. Fucking take it." demanded Matty, pounding your throat mercilessly. He watches the spit bubble at the corner of your mouth and dribble down your chin onto your chest, wetting your tits as it falls. 

With a hash thrust, Matty forces himself all the way down your throat and holds himself there, gripping the back of your head brutally. He feels you constricting around him, choking on his cock as you fight for air. 

His grip tightens, and he pulls you forward even further, beaming to himself as you cough and sputter around him. You feel drunk from arousal, loving the way Matty is using you like a fuck toy, only considering his own pleasure.

You feel fingers weave in your hair, and he pulls you off harshly, laughing sadistically at the hurried breaths you suck in.

“Not my fault you don't know how to suck me off, if you're too fucking brainless to know what to do then I’ll do what I want.” He forces himself back in your waiting mouth, thrusting frantically and grunting.

Obscene noises fill the air around you, wet and sticky as he fills your throat. But you swallow around him obediently, like you can't get enough of his cock. Drooling around his dick was where you were meant to be, being the submissive slut he always dreamt of.

Matty stares down at you like you were a mirage, what the fuck did he do to get this lucky?

Your lips were stretched and swollen around him, your cheeks hollowed. Each time you hum around Matty he feels his hips stutter, the vibration almost sending him over the edge. 

Streams of black mascara roll down your cheeks, and Matty moves his hand to wipe at them, marvelling at the dark streaks they leave behind. A red ring sat at the base of his dick from your lipstick. His unrelenting force meant all around your mouth was stained red. 

Any lipstick that was on your lips was smudged over the lower half of your face. It matched the hand-shaped mark Matty left on your cheek perfectly. 

He worked at a punishing pace, and with each thrust in your mouth, Matty felt himself teetering on the edge of bliss. But when your hand came up to play with his balls, pulling at them gently and massaging them with your warm hands, Matty was done for. 

“I'm gonna cum. Fuck- can I cum on your pretty face baby? I want to finish off your beautiful makeup.” a garbled yes from you was all the permission Matty needed, pulling out of your mouth and stroking his dick furiously.

You keep your mouth wide open, panting and holding eye contact with Matty, practically begging him to cum. His muscles tense as shockwaves grip his body, stars dancing across his vision.

Hot spurts of white cum fall over your face, painting your cheeks and lips. Streams fill your mouth, and you moan greedily as they do. Streaks of cum fall over your eyelashes, weighing them down as you stare up at Matty hungrily. 

His chest heaves as he looks down at you like an artist stares at their masterpiece, his cum painting your face was akin to looking at the mona lisa for Matty. He threw his head back against the cushions and fought to catch his breath.

Matty's body was limp as you crawled onto his lap, bracketing his hips with thighs and kissing him furiously. Smearing his face with his cum.

He has the fleeting thought that this might be the filthiest blow job he's ever received, smiling into the kiss at the idea.

a slurp fills with air as he sucks on your tongue, tasking the distinctly musky taste that always lingers. You both pull away, panting with Cheshire-cat-like grins on your face.

With a huff, you collapse next to Matty, who is already wiping your face with tissues carefully, staring at you with adoration as he does. 

Balled-up tissues get thrown on the table as you snuggle into Matty's side. He sucks in a shaky breath before speaking.

“Well that was definitely a white Christmas, wasn't it, baby?” he laughs at the groan you let out, burrowing your face into his neck as your cheeks burn.

“Fucking hell. I can't believe I just let you fuck my face, and you say that afterwards." you mumble into his neck, pressing kisses to the collum of his throat.

“Mmm you love me” he teases, pinching at your side playfully.

“You’re lucky I do” you say, pulling back with a smile.

#matty healy smut #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 smut #merry Christmas i guess!!!! #this counts as festive... right... #teacher au! #(kind of but also just general smut lol) #matty healy fic