#ev space stocks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sc0tters · 5 months

Text

Night Before Christmas | Quinn Hughes

summary: as you struggled to fall asleep on christmas eve quinn had something to help solve your problem.

kinkmas: day five (cockwarming)

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v.

word count: 1.87k

authors note: I am truly in love with this one! It’s much softer than my usual smuts but as I’ve been watching love actually whilst writing it we needed a bit of a breather for all that is kinkmas!

Holiday parties with the Hughes family had quickly become one of your favourite things.

Dating Quinn for the last three years meant that you were always his plus one for this event like any other. It also meant that you were officially in the stage where his family had moved on from questioning you to teasing Quinn about how he’s kept you for so long. Christmas Eve dinner had gone down a charm as everyone enjoyed seeing the Hughes boys back together. Of course though as the entire family watched you get dragged off by Quinn’s younger cousins who wanted to show you their newest dolls that have been added to their collections. Your moved presence came with questions of when he’d be putting a ring on your finger, and when you’d be having a family.

Quinn‘s blush as the questions came made the entire family laugh as they truly believed that the eldest son of Ellen and Jim had found his person, hitting the jackpot of love. It seemed that every time you or Quinn would reach for one another someone in his family was watching. The way your hand found itself in his hair during dinner softly scratching the nape of his neck as you smiled listening to whatever he had to say.

You treated his words like honey that you just wanted to soak up as you sat there in awe. Sure the family thought Quinn was wrapped around your finger but you were just as wrapped around his. They all thought you were his sweet innocent girlfriend who could do no wrong as you would bat your eyelashes at Quinn. But if only they knew the side of you that only came out at the hands of Quinn.

As the majority of the house lay fast asleep you couldn’t help it as you stared at the alarm clock next to your side of the bed. The starlight barely shone through the curtains reminding you of how late it was and Quinn’s soft snores weren’t helping as your mind went rampant struggling to find a moment of calm. You were brought back to your childhood when you were an excited kid desperate to catch Santa in the act of delivering presents into your stocking.

A loud sigh left your lips as you rolled over facing your boyfriend “Quinn?” You frowned bringing your leg up to brush your foot along his calf in a lousy attempt to wake him up.

Yet as you were met with silence you tried once more “Quinn.” Your voice was in a sing song tone that made Quinn smile as his eyes remained shut.

You took it as defeat huffing as you rolled back over deciding to try to catch some sleep before his cousins would inevitably come and wake you both up “c’mere.” Quinn mumbled reaching out to place his hands on your sides pulling you closer to him.

It resulted in a squeal leaving your lips “thought I’d surprise you.” He smirked kissing your earlobe making you roll over back to face him.

With the extra space between you both now being nothing you could barely make out Quinn’s features “now what’s wrong?” His tone was softer as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

The gesture alone was enough to make you melt “I can’t sleep.” You pouted making him laugh “it’s not funny!” You complained as Quinn leaned over to peck your lips.

As your mood didn’t improve it made him sigh “okay I’m sorry.” The hockey player apologised as he propped his head up by his elbow “what’s keeping you up?” The question frustrated you as it was one of those things that if you knew you would have sorted out.

You shrugged as you mimicked the way he leaned against his hand “I don’t know.” You shrugged making him roll his eyes “so you woke me up for that?” His sarcasm was missed by you as you frowned.

It made you drop to your pillow again “I’m sorry.” You were quick to stare at the ceiling “babe seriously what’s wrong?” Quinn groaned wanting to hear what plagued your mind.

A yawn left his lips at the worst time “just go back to sleep.” You mumbled shaking your head as Quinn reached for your hand pulling you back onto your side “what’s on your mind pretty girl?” He asked letting you see how concern coated his face when his fingers traced figures on your hip.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “I feel off.” You announced acknowledging how weird it sounded “were they too much tonight?” Quinn knew that Jack and Luke had been teasing you about how Ellen’s friends called you Quinn’s wife at the beginning of the night.

His concern made you smile “no Quinn.” You shook your head “I’ll just go to sleep.” You sighed hearing footsteps in the hallway that shared the wall with your room “feel better already with you here.” You smiled pecking his lips as you lied to him.

In truth you still felt off but you now felt guilty keeping Quinn up “just want you to hold me.” You added as you rolled over backing yourself up against his body “you sure?” Quinn kissed your cheek as his legs laced between yours when his arms wrapped around your waist.

Quinn’s body was warm under the thick blankets that were layered on top of you both “like it when you do this.” You nuzzled your head into your pillow as your eyes latched onto the red lights of the alarm clock “sweet dreams princess.” Quinn grumbled into your ear sending shivers through your body.

Even as you two went silent Quinn knew you hadn’t gone to sleep as your breathing remained stable leaving you awake “baby?” You called out feeling Quinn’s hand travel down your stomach but were ultimately met with silence as his hand went below the strings of your shorts stopping when his tips of his fingers found your clit.

A cough left your lips as you couldn’t tell what he was trying to do “you trust me?” Quinn’s voice was soft as his breath fanned against the shell of your ear “o-of c-co-course.” You stammered as his fingers settled into a more consistent rhythm against your clit in a clockwise motion.

You moved your head back against his chest as you felt your body grow calm against him “gonna make you feel so good.” He cooed making you smile as his movements were slow enough to lull you to sleep.

The beds creaks were muffled by the sheer amount of blankets that you had over your bed and Quinn had never been more grateful about your tendencies to get cold when you slept “please Q.” You whispered like you were worried the house would have been alerted to what was going on if you spoke any louder.

His lips only response was to nip at your neck as you kept your hair in a bun “don’t be shy love.” Quinn’s smirk pressed against your skin making you feel all that more weaker as you grew weak to his touch.

Every minute of this was something Quinn wanted to soak in, using all of his self restraint to not turn the lights on as the intimacy of this moment “let the house hear how I make you feel.” For a man who was once so tired Quinn was now wide awake as his only objective was making you feel good.

Your wetness pooled his desires as his fingers sped up taking you even closer to your release making near in audible grunts and gasps leave your lips as you had one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping at your bedsheets. Quinn’s cock grew hard pressing against your back and with each pretty sound that came from your plump lips “please don’t stop.” You begged whimpering as your body began to shake.

Tears formed in your eyes as it seemed like whatever block within your mind was coming undone with the mere movement of his fingers “I’m gon-” your eyes fluttered as you found your words getting caught in your throat.

Clothes stuck to your body as sweat formed on your body making you feel slick in places that went beyond your cunt “is this what you wanted from me when you woke me up?” Quinn kissed your neck as you knowing that this was better than any dream he had been in the middle of before you stopped it “no Q.” You called out as you felt your head growing heavy “don’t lie to me.” He warned sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your ear that was accessorised by your earrings.

Of course he knew you well, well enough to know that you were bullshitting him “just wanted to feel you.” You mewled arching your back from against him as you knew you could never fully come without Quinn’s cock inside of you.

It was like music to his ears as he began to slow his fingers “feel me?” The hockey player taunted clicking his tongue as you cried feeling over stimulated “n-n-no!” You sobbed as Quinn removed his fingers entirely from your shorts bringing them up to your lips.

A laugh left his lips “taste yourself for me.” Quinn tapped them against your lower lip making your jaw go slack listening to his requests “now you don’t go whine when I’m going to give you what you really want.” A shifting noise came from behind you making your eyebrows raise as you grew confused.

You didn’t have the chance to ask him as he pulled your flannel shorts down “don’t worry princess.” Quinn laughed as he shook his head “always gonna give you what you want.” Your questions were answered as his cock slid up your slit bringing delicate gasps from your lips once more.

He throbbed against you “Q.” You clenched around the head of his cock as he refused to let himself bottom out against your cunt “I’ll be good to you.” Quinn scoffed as his fingers pinched at your hips as your walls finally hugged his cock.

But as his hips remained still even after you adjusted to him you couldn’t help but grow confused “you feel better now?” Quinn asked yawning again as he grew sleepy.

Your clenching cunt was loosening as you too grew tired “thank you Quinny.” You smiled against your pillow “I’ll keep you like this for the evening.” His words were soft as his body melted against yours making you two some perfect statue.

A whimper fell from your lips as you thought about it “I love you.” Your words were muffled as a heavy sleep took over you making Quinn smile “love you too my sweet girl.” The hockey player cooed kissing your head once more before he too joined you in the state of slumber totally unaware of the moment the clock on your table hit midnight. Not only did it bring on the new day but it almost brought sounds of jingle bells that warmed the streets making anyone who was awake feel like they were dreaming too.

#ambers kinkmas 2023 #Quinn Hughes imagines #Quinn Hughes smuts #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

667 notes · View notes

katyswrites · 2 months

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace.

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here.

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words?

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid.

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say.

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never -

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you.

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips.

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods.

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting. You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

298 notes · View notes

hyperactively-me · 5 months

Text

i'll be home for christmas, reunited with simon 🎄🫂🎁 i thought i had this in the queue, but it wasn't 😪 so here is a christmas eve work <3 merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. also, i listened to "i'll be home for christmas" by bing crosby whilst writing this...absolutely perfect!

warnings: suggestive flirting, none

It’s Christmas Eve.

A Christmas tree sits in the corner of your living room, the twinkling lights gleaming and branches spilling with decadent ornaments and sparkling tinsel.

Two stockings are pinned up to the wall, one for you, and one for him.

You had spent hours meticulously adorning the house with festive decorations, hoping to fill the empty spaces with the warmth of the holiday spirit. Yet, despite your cheerful surroundings, an overwhelming sense of loneliness grips your heart. The apartment felt too cold for comfort, cold air seeping in through microscopic cracks in the windows.

Your boyfriend, Simon, had regretfully told you that he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas due to a mission taking longer than originally expected. He let you know about two weeks ago, the guilt in his voice clearly evident over the phone. His absence weighs on you, making Christmas feel less like a celebration and more like a somber waiting game.

You tried to busy yourself with work and other things, an attempt to not feel so sad about Simon not spending Christmas with you this year.

Now, as you sit on the couch, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace, you can’t help but replay the memories of past holidays spent together. The laughter, the warmth, and the joy seem like distant echoes, and the empty space beside you on the couch accentuates the obvious void he’s left behind.

The clock ticks away the hours, and with each passing minute, the hope that he might just show up lessens. Just when you resign yourself to a lonely Christmas Eve, you hear a sound that jolts you from your thoughts—the unmistakable creak of the front door opening.

At first, you’re afraid that someone broke into the house. Your heart races, fear suddenly taking over. Your eyes widen, scanning the room for something to defend yourself with, but then you hear it—that familiar voice calling your name.

“Hey there, love. Don’t go reachin’ for a weapon; it’s just me.”

You're momentarily speechless, your eyes wide with disbelief. Relief washes over you as you recognize Simon’s voice.

You nearly trip over your own feet as you rush to the doorway. There he stands, wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants alongside a heavy duffel slung over his shoulder. Simon’s piercing gaze meets yours, and a small, sheepish smile graces his lips. The loneliness you were feeling evaporates into thin air, replaced by a surge of joy. His familiar face is a sight for sore eyes, and the exhaustion etched across his face fades away in the warm light of your shared home.

“Simon!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. His hug is firm, and you can feel the tension of his absence slowly releasing from his body as he relaxes in your tight embrace.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice a soothing balm. His hands run up and down your back, kneading into your skin.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t make it back in time,” you manage to whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

Simon chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Miss me much?”

You pull away, but your hands remain on his shoulders as you look up at him. “More than words can say. I’m completely surprised.”

Simon’s arms encircle your midsection protectively. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you spending Christmas alone. I managed to wrap things up sooner than expected.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As you pull away, Simon’s gaze lingers on your face, his eyes growing with an intensity that you know he’s holding himself back on.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you whisper.

Simon’s grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Believe it, baby.”

With a gentle nudge, he leads you back to the living room. The Christmas tree and the cozy ambiance of the apartment suddenly feel more welcoming with Simon’s unexpected arrival.

“You’ve done an amazing job with the decorations,” he comments, surveying the room. He drops his duffel bag to the floor.

You glance around, admiring your own handiwork. “I wanted everything to be perfect in case you could make it home.” You shiver slightly, the lingering cold from earlier still not fully out of your system.

He pulls you into another hug, his warmth enveloping you. “It’s more perfect than I could have imagined. Now, how about I keep you warm, lovie?”

Simon sits you down on the couch, and you spend the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and cuddling in front of the Christmas tree. The cold loneliness that had settled in the apartment earlier in the day is replaced by the warmth of sharing body heat with your boyfriend and the comforting presence of a loved one.

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

279 notes · View notes

ficmashup · 5 months

Text

Taken

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Nothing like a sprinkle of angst on Christmas Eve. ;) I will be doing a part two for this because I can't resist, but can't promise when I'll post it. Soon, I hope! Have a lovely holiday to everyone celebrating. :)

Warnings: SA mentions if you squint, crass language, death, stabbing, beating, shooting, torture, angst, trauma, overall I just decided to stab the characters in the feels. Just a bit. Happy ending though, imo.

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

It’s not expected, but then again, these things never are.

What kills me the most is that Ghost had to be there, had to see it. I’d rather it had been anyone else just so I could spare him the pain of reopening old wounds. We’d been clearing a warehouse and stumbled upon more than we’d expected. We both realize our mistake at different times and I have a split-second decision to make. I’m ahead of Ghost by a dozen or so feet and hidden behind a pile of crates, so I see the group first.

There’s no time to warn Ghost and if he comes forward, he’ll be shot on sight. So I step forward first. I take out those closest to his entry point and my focus on keeping him safe leaves me vulnerable. Ghost moves in just as I’m grabbed from behind and I ram the butt of my gun backward into my captor’s ribs. There’s a grunt, but he doesn’t let go and I drop my gun to hang from my chest in exchange for the long knife on my thigh. I plunge the blade into his thigh and hear a string of curses spat into my ear as their grip only tightens on me.

I fail to realize that during the struggle, they’ve managed to drag me backward towards a side door. My last view as I twist the knife is Ghost’s wide eyes behind the mask before my head is slammed against the wall and all goes dark.

* * *

I wake up tied to a chair. I keep utterly still and take stock of my body. My head is heavy and I feel the tightness of the skin on the right side of my face from where blood has dried. There’s a sharp sting coming from across my collar bone and my right ankle twinges. A sprained ankle and a scrape, I’d guess. Possibly a concussion. Nothing too bad. My wrists and ankles are tied to the arms and legs of a chair and the rope chafes, but the ties are sloppy. Keeping me here like this was unexpected, then. An opportunity that they couldn’t pass up.

I keep my breathing steady and my head bowed with my eyes shut. All I do for a few moments is listen. There’s shuffling and voices, but they’re muffled and seem to be coming from a nearby room. Multiple people, but more than likely less than a dozen. I take a chance and open my eyes, looking up and finding the space dim and empty. It looks like a shack barely held together by the sand and dirt covering the floor.

“Awake.” A voice with a rough accent comes from behind me and my spine stiffens as he moves in front of me. He’s limping slightly and I get a brief moment of satisfaction at knowing this is the man who grabbed me and I clearly dealt some serious damage. With the dried blood on my face and him being able to walk after clear medical assistance, I’d say I’ve been gone a few hours. The fact makes what’s left in my stomach curdle.

The man says a few words that I don’t understand, then one that I do. “…bitch.”

I chuckle softly. “Unoriginal.” His fist darts out and the hit is harder than I expect. It leaves me dizzy as the weak chair rocks with the impact. Stays on all fours, though. The man grunts and spits at my feet before walking to the door, apparently satisfied with his revenge. He opens the door and shouts something down the hall before looking at me with ill intent in his eyes. I shift a bit in my chair, noting that they’ve removed my uniform and boots. I’m only in tight shorts and my tank top. It’s going to be torture then. Fine. I’ve already been through hell and lived through it, fashioned myself teeth from the mouths of my demons I killed, I can take whatever poor imitation these amateurs try.

Three more men come in and one steps in front of the others. “Why you here?” He asks in broken English.

“To kill people like you.” I answer simply, staring unblinkingly at him.

He gives me a smile. “Coincidence. That is why we here as well. To kill people like you.” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. That’s the base of every conflict in the history of the world. He pulls his handgun and aims it at my forehead while I go completely still. “Tell me more.”

* * *

Hours pass. The torture is easy enough to sit through, nothing unexpected, nothing skilled, nothing I haven’t been trained for. The true killer is waiting with my own thoughts. Like thinking that they aren’t coming for me. Stupid. Utterly stupid. Yet the persistent feeling of being unworthy lingers in my chest. And I know that the longer I’m here, the more nagging those thoughts will be.

They can finally be rid of you, no trouble, no hassle, just a lost soldier, happens all the time.

I gasp as a soldier lands a particularly well-aimed punch to my gut and the chair finally falls over. I feel the arm crack at the impact while the group laughs, but the ropes around my right wrist and ankle are now free. My fingers slowly curl around the splintered piece of wood hidden under my body. One of the men waves his hand and another steps forward and yanks the chair back up. I use the momentum of the sudden movement to plunge the long piece of wood into his throat and get my free leg up under me to keep me from toppling over.

The man’s eyes go wide as he chokes on his own blood and everyone else in the room is frozen with shock. I take advantage of that and take the gun in the man’s thigh holster and manage to shoot two men before they draw their guns and one more before they manage to shoot. I use the body of the man I stabbed as cover, but I can barely hold him up. I grunt under the impact of a bullet hitting his dead weight and feel another bullet graze my shoulder before the door straight across from me bursts open. I take advantage of the distraction and shoot one more while the other gets a bullet between the eyes from the intruder’s gun.

I turn on instinct and level my gun at the intruders, stopping my finger just in time when I see the distinct, pale skull mask. “Fuck.” I lower the gun and let the body drop to the floor as Ghost pushes in, but I don’t miss the way he looks me over.

His hand grabs his radio before anything. “Clear, I’ve got the package.” He slings his gun over his back as he reaches me and I don’t realize that I’m trembling until he guides my hand to his shoulder to keep me upright as he unties my other wrist and ankle. My fingers cling to his tac vest like a lifeline.

“Confirmed. If package is secure, move out.” Price’s voice comes over the radio and my heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and my hand still holding the gun twitches before I recognize Soap moving into the doorway to watch our backs.

“Clear, LT.” He reports before looking me over with wide eyes. I must really look like shit then.

“Affirmative.” Ghost responds over the radio with a wave back at Soap to tell him the same. “How bad, G?” He asks gruffly once the flimsy chair falls to the floor behind me and he stands up, keeping his forearms within my reach so I can use him to stand. His fingers graze my arms too, not gripping or grabbing, simply guiding.

My head shakes as I stare at him. “Not bad. Nothing broken.”

He nods in return and pulls out my uniform shirt and pants that he must have collected from the other room. My boots too. “Then let’s go. Can you walk?” I take my clothes gratefully and he keeps to my side while I slide the top on with only a slight wince as the fabric slides over the open wounds covering me. The pants are a little more difficult, but I manage before nodding to Ghost that I’m ready. He wraps an arm around my waist and I lower his hand to my hip as my ribs ache with protest. He corrects his grip and we limp out with Soap leading, gun up.

A few more bodies litter the narrow hall and the room beyond, but the true relief is when we walk outside and I can see the stars. I hadn’t realized how stale the air was in that shack and how the metallic smell of blood had stained my nostrils. I gulp down the cool air before I press my lips together as I hold in a laugh. My shoulders start shaking and Ghost’s pace falters before I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just the shock and exhaustion.” Laughter taints every word and I swear Ghost’s eyebrows furrow with concern before we keep moving.

“You get scarier all the time, G.” Soap comments ahead and I can’t hold back a low laugh even as I shake my head at myself.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I breathe as the giggles make every word waver.

Ghost’s grip tightens as we carefully scale down the side of the rocky hill. “Not sure what you’re apologizin’ for. You fuckin’ got taken watching my ass and I’d rather have you laughin’ than anything else.”

My head shakes, the laughter fading as I struggle to keep my feet moving while my body starts to shut down. “I’m sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come for me.” Ghost comes to a full stop now as I look between the men and Soap has shock scrawled over his face.

“Course we did, lass. The hell you talkin’ bout?” Soap’s accent gets a little thicker, betraying how deep my words hit.

Ghost starts to move again and I stumble after him even though he’s practically carrying me on his hip. “Keep movin’.” He grumbles and regret lingers in my chest as we fall silent the rest of the way. At the bottom of the rocky path sits a car and my heart beats a little faster at seeing the two figures waiting there for us. Ghost picks me up and carries me the rest of the way before immediately handing me to Price once we’re close enough. He holds me close and tight for far too brief a moment before sitting me on the hood of the car. The moonlight is just bright enough to make out each other’s features and I can’t get enough of his eyes, even with the worry filling them.

“You broken?” He asks quietly and I can hear how the words drag and crackle on the way out of his chest. His hand perches on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point to feel my heart beating.

I give him a weak smile. “Just a bit chipped. Nothing permanent.” I promise and it’s a gift to see a little tension leave his shoulders. “But I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to be kept conscious as we head back.”

“Still the medic, hm?” He teases dryly but the attempt at humor soothes me more than anything else. “Gaz, let’s go. Fast and steady.” Price pushes the keys into Gaz’s hands as he passes by with a wink, pushing something small that crinkles in my hand. A real smile tugs on my lips. A candy. We pile in the car and it’s a surprise to find myself pressed tight between Ghost and Price with Gaz driving and Soap in the passenger seat. It’s as if everyone traded seats.

“Did…did either of you grab my med kit?” I ask as my head gets a bit dizzy and I pop the hard candy Gaz gave me into my mouth. Soap turns in his seat with a half-grin, holding up my kit. My hands reach for it, but Ghost intercepts and pulls it into his lap.

“What d’ya need?” He asks as he opens it and looks over the contents.

I shift the candy into my cheek. “Bandages. My ankle’s fucked. Need to wrap it at least.” Ghost glances at Price and they instantly come to a nonverbal agreement as John shifts me closer to him while Simon gingerly lifts my foot into his lap. I frown. “I can do it—”

“Let him. That’s an order.” John’s voice in my ear and the command in it has my body stiffening for a moment, then laxing a moment after. My back is pressed against John’s chest with his arm thrown across my middle, his hand heavy on my hip to use it as a steadying point rather than put any pressure on my ribs. He must’ve noticed how Ghost was holding me earlier. Doesn’t miss a thing, my Captain.

Ghost eases my boot off and my hands clench at the pain, but he’s careful and the steady ache of the rest of my body makes it easy enough to sit through. Once my sock is off too, he takes out a small flashlight and I grimace as the light illuminates just how bad my ankle looks. It’s red and swollen from all the activity I forced it through after the sprain. Ghost starts wrapping and I nod when he looks at me to make sure he’s doing it correctly.

When he’s finished and I’m satisfied, I move to pull my foot away, but he keeps a firm hold on it. He gives me a deadpan look. “Keep it elevated.”

I give him a look back that I’m sure is a bit lackluster given my current condition. “It’s supposed to be elevated above my heart, but that’s not happening in the car.”

“Better this than nothing.” Ghost responds without a second of hesitation and his eyes don’t budge from mine. My mouth opens again, then shuts when Price gives my hip a soft squeeze. My lips purse, but I don’t say another word as I relax into John and try to keep my eyes open. I rest my hand on John’s knee and my thumb slides back and forth as I breathe in his scent.

“Give me a list of injuries.” He says and I nod, fighting through the fog of my mind to think clearly.

“Uh, sprained ankle, head wound, possible concussion, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs on my right side, a bullet graze to my left shoulder, and some bumps and bruises.” I go over the list twice in my head before nodding slightly in confirmation. The car is silent for a few beats and I feel a weight settle over all of us. The weight that comes with caring for someone else and hurting when they’re hurt. I swallow, struggling to accept the feeling rather than struggle against it and feel guilty for inflicting it on others. In truth, it’s a choice they all made. I choice I made too, when I let them in.

“Don’t think I ever asked how you are when you’re the one who needs to be treated.” John barely breaks the silence, but the tension lessens when I hum a tired laugh.

“Oh, I’m sweet as sugar, Captain. Naturally.” That gets chuckles from most of the men in the car.

“Liar.” Soap accuses, grinning back at me and I give him a smile in return. Also, I show him my middle finger. He returns the gesture instantly and happiness flits through me at the simple banter.

“You’re not gonna be difficult for me, are you, sugar?” John whispers just low enough for me to hear and I smile, wincing as it stretches a cut on my cheek.

“I like to think I behave better than most of you do when you need care.” I give Ghost a pointed look since he’s the worst of the bunch and he grunts, shaking his head while Soap and Gaz make noises of dissent.

Price shifts and my grip tightens on his knee until he settles again. “I remember being pretty docile last time.”

“After some convincing.” I return, my eyes shutting for just a moment before I feel light flicking at my nose. My eyes open and see Ghost pulling his hand back, head shaking with eyes on mine. I nod once. Got to stay awake. It goes on like this for the rest of the drive. One or all of them keeping up a conversation with me while Ghost taps my nose, pulls my ear, or annoys me in some other way when I start to drift. When we arrive at base, I can barely give one-word answers because I’m so exhausted.

The men rush me into the medical tent and I hate being set on the bed, hate being the one who needs treatment, hate the starchy feel of the sheets, and hate being poked and prodded. There’s a deep frown on my face as I allow the medics to do their job and they give Price the same list of injuries that I gave him earlier. Only after they hear that, and that I’m going to be fine with rest and treatment, Price dismisses the others and they reluctantly go. Although Gaz slips me another hard candy before he goes and gets a smile out of me.

Price stays. Even after the medics pull me aside and push me into a sterile bath to clean all my cuts after I practically showered in that man’s blood, I return smelling like chemicals and find Price waiting. I give him a look and the corner of his mouth lifts, but I can’t bring myself to verbally scold him. His presence settles me as it always has and that’s something I’m especially grateful for while I’m here.

There are a few places where I need stitches and I sit through it silently, Price and I just looking each other over. Seeing that we’re both alive and safe. The medics wrap my ankle again and lay me down in bed with it elevated while I try to keep my grumbling to a minimum. I’m exhausted, but this place, this position, keeps me on edge. But it’s getting harder to resist.

“Just sleep.” John says with a hint of humor in his voice as he sits in the chair next to me.

I heave a breath, nodding. “I’m not fighting it. Just hard to do in a place like this.” He moves a touch closer and breathing comes a little easier as his fingers slot with mine, the tips of his fingers sliding over the length of mine. He understands more than most why I’m having trouble.

“You’re not going to be alone here. Not for a second.” He promises with nothing but sincerity in those lovely blue eyes. My lips press together.

“I can’t ask you for that.”

“You’re not. I’m giving it to you.” He returns instantly and I can’t help but melt. Can’t argue with that. “Sleep.” His other hand raises to slide over my head, his fingers twisting a few locks of hair between them. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I don’t mean to fall asleep, but his gentle touch lulls me into peace in seconds.

* * *

I wake up feeling a slight weight settling on top of me and I’m on alert in a split second, my eyes flashing open and my hands darting out to grab what I can. The person freezes and I end up staring into dark eyes with their wrist in one hand and the collar of their shirt in the other. “Just me, G.” The voice takes a few moments to sink in, but I relax a second later with a grimace as the sudden movement tweaked my ribs.

“Ghost.” I breathe and slowly release him while he lets go of my wrist that he grabbed to keep me from choking him. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” I tease and he hums as he sits in the chair next to me, moving it as close to the bed as he can. I settle back down and note that the slight weight was another one of his jackets laid over my chest. A little smile pulls on my lips at the sight.

“Think I’d have learned by now. Especially since you still have my other jacket.” He flicks his chin towards the one covering me and I smirk while my heartbeat slowly calms. He’s only wearing the cloth that covers his face tonight and there’s no black smudged around his eyes. It’s as close to being Simon as he allows himself to be on base.

“I always meant to return it.” I say honestly, thinking fondly of his jacket hanging in my closet back home. “Think I like it too much now. I’ll get you another one.” That earns me a rare chuckle as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds good.” He agrees and there’s that little glint in his eye that tells me he has something to say. He’s either waiting until he’s ready to say it, or he’s still mulling over the words in his mouth. “Took me a solid ten minutes to get Price out of here.” I smile, imagining the soft argument followed by Ghost shoving Price out of the infirmary.

“Thanks for relieving him.”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem.”

“And you wanted to talk to me.” I help him along a bit with amusement in my voice as his fingers knit together and his gaze steadies on mine.

“I did.” He confirms and now I wait, letting him decide when he’s ready to talk. My hands slide over the jacket he laid over me, grateful for the lack of chemical smell emanating from it. It just smells like him. Like bitter tea leaves and a small citrus tang that usually taints his clothes. Probably his detergent. “I don’t forgive you.” He starts and my attention immediately shifts to him and his dark eyes trained on mine. “I don’t accept your apology for thinking we wouldn’t come for you because that’s bullshit and I won’t forgive you until you never fucking believe that again.”

My eyes widen when I hear the heat in his tone. It’s not that odd to hear Ghost get riled up, especially around Soap, but I’ve never had him take that tone with me. Not seriously. “I know it was stupid.”

“Damn right.” He grumbles and I give him a pointed look for rubbing it in. “Say it. Tell me you know we’ll always come for you.” His gaze is unyielding and I know he means it.

“I know the team will always come for me.” Even to my ears, the words sound hesitant. Ghost’s eyes narrow.

“You say that every day ’til it feels as natural as your fucking name. And I’ll ask you to say it every once and a while. ‘Til it’s a reflex.” I sigh, but his tone is insistent. After a moment, I relent with a nod and he pins me in place with his eyes before nodding back and relaxing again in his chair. “You don’t get to save my ass, then think we’re not coming after you. Never believe that, G.”

“I get it, Ghost. I’ll do it.” Because it’s important to him and because he’s clearly trying to do something good for me, even if it’s something I hesitate to do. “And when I can stand without falling over, I’ll give you a hug for being such a pain in my ass.” The mask twitches and his eyes crinkle so I know he’s smiling.

“We’ll see if you can catch me to do it.” He returns and I smirk, knowing he’ll let me. “Now, go on and pass out. Price’ll have my hide if I keep you up.”

“Mmhmm.” I smile and let my exhaustion catch up with me, falling asleep a little easier with his scent in my nose rather than the chemicals that cleaned my body.

The next time I wake, Soap has taken Ghost’s place and morning light is seeping into the tent. “Morning, lass.” He greets and I give him a bleary grunt in return. “Cheery in the morning.” He quips and I’m about to tell him what he can do with his cheer before he points to a tray beside me. “That’s for you, if you’re up for it. Will ye let me help you up without bitin’ me?” Soap gets up and I nod, grabbing onto his arms as they slide under mine to pull me up into a sitting position.

A long breath leaves me as pain echoes through my body with every movement, but Johnny is gentle and makes sure to stack pillows behind me before moving back. He pushes a glass of water into my hand along with some pills. “Nurses said to give those to ya.”

I raise a brow and take the pills despite how my face hurts. I bet I really look like shit. “They trusted you with a task? I’m shocked.”

He smirks. “At least your spirits are still high.” Soap reaches over and pulls the tray closer to hover over my lap. “Eat up. Took everything in me not to steal your applesauce.” I hum amusedly, picking up the small container first and happily digging into the sweet treat. Soap flicks my ear. “Cruel lass. Careful, I might rethink my offer.”

I pause and raise a brow. “Offer?”

Mischief glints in his eyes and I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “You’re coming to Scotland with me.” He says with a smug grin. “The group we took out last night were the last few we were after, so we’re on leave starting the day after tomorrow. Since you’ve got no one waitin’ for ya at home, I’m takin’ ya with me to see my family. So I can keep an eye on ya.” He winks at me while I blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.

“That’s…that’s not necessary, Soap. I can take care of myself.” I frown as I think of myself laying on his couch surrounded by his family, just taking up space. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you and your family.” Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone’s family. Parents…I haven’t been around parents in at least a fucking decade.

“Too bad.” Soap answers instantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told my Ma and she’s excited to meet ya. If you resist, I’ll carry you there slung over my shoulder.” I pout, setting my food down on the tray as I try to think of a way out of this. “Come on, lass, it’ll be fun. You only have to stay off your foot for a little while and I’ll be there to entertain you in the meantime.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I look at him and if anyone can pull off a puppy dog look, it’s Johnny. After a few moments I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re sure your family doesn’t mind—”

“They’re fucking thrilled, G. Come on, just say you’ll come without a fight.” He leans forward and nudges my leg gently.

A smile tugs on my lips and I’ll admit the thought of seeing Johnny at home is a tempting one. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come.” His face brightens immediately and his big grin makes accepting worth it.

“You won’t regret it. One minute in Scotland and you’ll never want to leave.” He assures me and I nod along, listening with a fond smile as he tells me about his sisters, his mother’s cooking, and his father’s terrible jokes. To my own surprise, I find myself actually…looking forward to it.

Taglist (hello, lovelies, hope you enjoy. Lmk if anyone wants to be tagged):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady

163 notes · View notes

bigdumbbambieyes · 5 months

Text

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays from my family to yours!! 🤍🎄

It’s Billy’s first Harrington Christmas with Steve’s family, and honestly? He doesn’t know what to think.

Because his own broken ‘family’ had consisted of him and his father for years, and Neil would get him one shitty gift every December 25th and then they'd going out to eat at some greasy diner together in the name of ‘Christmas’.

And once Max and Susan had entered the picture, things had changed a bit. Susan cooked them all a meal on the 25th. There were more presents. There was a fully decorated tree in the living room. Stockings.

And with that first Hargrove-Mayfield Christmas, Billy hadn’t realized just how much mothers made Christmas.

He could remember the last Christmas he had with his mother. Vaguely. He can vividly remember the warmth of it, the glittering gold of nostalgia sparkling in her eyes in front of the tree. She had gifted him a bike that year and he’d ridden it until he outgrew it.

Then, he had pawned it for money towards his car. He’d given a lot of his belongings towards his Camaro.

But — shitty Christmases aside, this is new. Mrs. Harrington is all about Christmas, decorating her house from top to bottom with wreaths and holly and mistletoe. She’d even put one just outside Steve’s room and gave them a playful smile once they’d realized.

Now, it’s Christmas Eve and six o’clock has just rolled around, so Mrs. H hands out a set of matching pyjamas to her husband, son, and Billy. Even Coco, the white crusty family dog, has a little outfit on that she seems happy to wear — like she’s used to it.

"You know the drill, put them on and come back down for pictures!" Mrs. H tells the three of them, her smile wide.

Billy kinda wants to die.

But, he holds the red, black, and green checkered plaid pyjamas in his free hand while the other clutches at his third glass of spiked eggnog — just in time for Steve to take it from him to set down, giving him a look with wide eyes and lifted brows that says 'just go with it'.

And Billy scrunches his face like 'do I have to?'

But, he follows his boyfriend upstairs, anyway, to change into the pyjamas like Mrs. H has requested.

And, to be fair, they're soft as hell and maybe the most comfortable thing Billy has ever put on his body. When he turns to look at Steve, he sees his boyfriend wearing the exact same thing and it makes them both snort with laughter.

"Every year?" Billy asks as Steve comes over, wrapping his arms around him.

"Every," Steve kisses his cheek, "Single," another kiss to the other side, "Year." A kiss to his mouth, gentle and soft.

It's gaudy but it's cute. Maybe.

Quietly, Steve whispers into the small space between their mouths, "Thank you, for putting up with all of this," he means the Harrington Christmas traditions, "I know it's...a lot, but...it's means a lot to me that you go along with it."

Billy stares into those dark eyes for a moment, flicking back and forth between them before he half-shrugs with a smile and mutters, "It's more than I've ever had."

Steve's face drops a little, like he's hurt for Billy, and he knows it's true — Billy's never had matching pyjamas with his family, he's never had homemade eggnog with Mr. Harrington's finest rum, he's never decorated a gingerbread house, he's never had a Christmas with so much love.

"If you tell my mom that," Steve whispers with a small smile, tilting his head, "She'll never let you spend another Christmas anywhere else."

And, honestly? That doesn’t sound too bad.

❄️

Once they’re back downstairs, Mrs. H has her fancy camera set up in front of the tree and is getting everyone in place on the floor, scooping up Coco into her arms as she exclaims, “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’”

A low chorus of ‘Merry Christmas’ is said and Billy manages a smile as the camera flashes. When Mrs. H goes to set up another shot, he feels Steve’s hand find his, warm and reassuring as Billy turns his head to look at him and catches the smile his boyfriend has just for him.

He returns the soft smile, feeling his tense shoulders relax a little more, easing into the moment as Steve’s mother rushes back to her spot beside her husband.

As Billy focuses on the camera again, he feels Steve’s hand slide across his back and to his side, gently digging his fingertips into it — just enough for it to tickle and make him grin as his hand shoots to Steve’s, gripping it as his boyfriend laughs and the camera goes off, catching them both with wide grins.

Immediately, Billy shoots a glare at his pretty boy, whose grin hasn’t faltered at all. It’s maybe even grown a bit.

“You little shit,” Billy mumbles, glowering somewhat playfully.

“Hope that one makes it to the Christmas card,” Steve hums with a smirk.

Billy rolls his eyes and stands as everyone else does, happily taking up Mr. H’s offer of another cup of spiked eggnog.

❄️

The picture doesn’t make the Harrington Christmas card, as it was already decided (although Mrs. H does want him in the one next year), but Billy does receive a copy of the picture once it’s printed.

He folds it and keeps it hidden in his bedside table, already looking forward to next December.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #y’all didn’t think i wouldn’t write christmas fluff did you??#bambiwrites

158 notes · View notes

ebaylee422 · 1 year

Text

Decking the Halls

Steve Harrington X Girlfriend!reader

Author’s Note: Angst to cute sex, I’m not sorry. This is post Season 3, pre Season 4. I just love being angsty. I also really needed to clear my drafts soooo X-mas in March everyone!

Summary: Stockings aren’t the only things being stuffed this Christmas season. Steve has never decorated for Christmas, he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to ruin your sprit by avoiding you. Don’t worry though, he shows you just how appreciative he is after.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Girlfriend reader, mentions of shitty parents and the rest of the ST nuggets. Best Friend Robin Buckley!!

Warnings/Tags: Smut (Minors DNI!!!) abandonment issues? as an intro, p in v sex, marking kink, praise kink, fem oral (receiving). breeding?

Word Count: 3k

Part One/?

You had tried everything to get Steve into the Christmas spirit: buying decorations for your apartment, getting matching pj’s, going to watch the lights in Indianapolis, watching Christmas movies, the Ice-Skating was most regrettable because you fell forward and knocked your teeth hard enough to bleed. Even planning a white elephant with him and his friends, sharing hot cocoa and warmth of your space heater. What you didn’t know is as soon as he left your place he was greeted by his parents' empty house. Decorated from some stupid trendy catalog his mother only glanced at before swiping a credit card. His father, not even home long enough to realize the tinsel monstrosity within the living room. The presents underneath were fake, they stopped being real when his father told him to grow up. That Santa wasn’t real, saying he needed to start giving instead of hoping for some joy from a fat man each holiday season. So that’s exactly what he did, the first Christmas he’d enjoyed in a long time was on Christmas of 83’, when he was with Nancy. They’d gotten each other meaningful gifts, it was the happiest Christmas he thought he’d ever had. Even if he went home unable to look at his pool outside for too long knowing his friend had died. Even if there were disgusting monsters trying to eat his friends when they had the chance. How horrible humans were in comparison, like the Russians nearly beating him to death at Starcourt. Instead of celebrating what he was thankful for, he felt immense guilt every holiday. He’d confided in you once about his survivor's guilt, as you had called it a couple months ago during an intense flashback. You’d comfort him, make sure he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, Steve knew you were worried about him it would show whenever he ‘had’ to leave for work or Robin’s, or get clothes from his place.

It all came to a standstill when you’d asked him if he would come pick a Christmas Tree with you. Wanting to have it up before the kids came over, finish decking-the-halls you’d told him. Only Steve didn’t know what picking out a Christmas Tree was, sure it’s self explanatory but what if he made a fool of himself. With his pretty rich boy ‘I’ve never had to pick one out’, it seemed too intimate. Sure you’d bared your body-mind-and-soul to him, but wanting to do something so domestic together like picking out a Christmas Tree. For your first Christmas together as a couple, it was scary for him. So instead of being a Scrooge so he could work on his feelings, he faked an illness even going as far as calling out sick today. Keith hadn’t been too happy but chopped it up to Steve sucking too much face on the job and gave him the day anyway. And he was back to square one, an empty ugly house with none of your warmth. People would think his middle name was self-sabotage, especially when that door-bell rang. He got up from his cocoon from the coach with a groan, an aching shooting up to his spine when his socked feet hit the freezing hardwood. Shined and renewed for the inevitable party his parents would throw this Christmas Eve for work friends, where they forgot they even had a son. He stopped dead in his tracks shaking the sleep from his eyes when they were met with yours, holding a tote bag while shaking the light dusty of snow off your figure. It melted into your skin leaving you shiny with the dew, nose and ears kissed pink while your chin and neck were tucked tightly with the collar of your coat and scarf. You smiled at him as he studied your form, like an angel sent just for him. He was bundled up in simple joggers, thick wool socks and heavy blanket around his shoulders worn like a cape tucked around his body, but shirtless still despite it being nearly as cold inside as it is outside. Shaking your body of the remaining snow, laying the tote bag of groceries and sick necessities you’d brought over on the stairs so you could slide out of your heavy snow covered boots.

“Hi baby, how r’ you feeling?” you asked him with a voice full of sticky sweetness and adoration. His face changed in that moment from shock to guilty, you felt the change floating in the air like oil through water.

“What are you doing here?” He asked louder than either of you had expected, causing you to turn his way fully as you began to undo the ties of your coat.

“I came to check on you, bring you some-”

“Why?” He scoffed, tucking the blanket to cover himself from the breezing air flow of the open hall. You were wearing a red corduroy skirt, with black stocking underneath and a cream sweater that didn’t even compare to how soft your hair was laid across your shoulders. You looked at him like he hung up the stars, even though you were the brightest thing about his life.

“Robin called me worried about you saying you called out because you were sick. So I canceled the tree plans to come check on you because you didn’t call me. I even whipped up some Chicken and Rice soup and scrunched up a couple medicines.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I’m fine Y/N. You should go get your tree and I’ll see you on Friday like you planned.” he brushed off your kindness,

“Well I wanted to take care of you.” you told him shyly, "You haven't been around as often."

“Okay thanks.” he shook his head, body and tone still uncomfortable and unmatched of your own tenderness.

“Do you not want me here or something?” You scoffed with affection grabbing the bag from the stairs, stepping in front of him giddy with untamable affection.

“No.” He answered quickly and when your face dropped, his own heart went with it when you backed away from him. “No, I mean yes but not right now. I’m just-”

“It’s fine, Steve." You cut him off, turning away and grabbing your stuff. "I get it, I’m sorry I could’ve called.” he stopped you putting out his hand as an olive branch. You took it without hesitation, sniffling away the tears that built up for weeks of you arguing and avoiding each other.

“Don’t you dare apologize, especially to me.” He took your reddened cheeks in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “I’m just being an idiot, I’m sorry but I’m not even sick so you doing all this nice shit over-”

“I know you’re not sick, Steve. You’re a terrible faker.” You said factually, with a teasing tone. Still not looking at him but rather at your wiggling toes against the shiny floor.

“Oh really now? Robin didn’t tell you anything.”

“Well the strange, ‘Steve wanted my shift the same day he always has off’ the one day I could go tree picking with you. Then calling out and claiming illness, and not calling me is pretty obvious.” You let the bag fall again, his shoulders relaxed as you tugged on the length of his blanket. “Are you breaking up with me?” you asked with furrowed brows and a whimper to your voice.

“No!” Steve yelled, “No never no, I-I love you so much. You are my favorite everything Y/N.” He wrapped you both in the blanket tugging you flush against him. “I just have a hard time with the holidays, I don’t really know what to do with myself. I didn’t want to be embarrassed, it was a lot of pressure.” You both held each other silently letting the fear wash over both of you, until you giggled into his neck.

“I love you, Steve. Honestly, just talking to me would’ve saved us both a headache.” He sighed heavy as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, head resting on your chin.

“Jeez, what are we gonna do with me?” he whispered into your scalp, the fluffy hair on his chest tickling your cheek as you were held by his heart.

“I can think of one.” You pursed your lips, closing your eyes with your chin held high awaiting a kiss. He obliged you immediately, cupping your cheeks in his hands to accurately press his lips to yours. His hands were freezing, sending a shiver and gasp involuntarily out of you. Steve took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, tasting-ly. Pulling back before you could reciprocate, you whined gripping his biceps accidentally pushing off his blanket.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, nose brushing against yours.

"I didn't mean to pressure you, you just seem so sad."

"You make me happy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you could meet me in an ice cream shop above a secret Russian base. While enjoying strawberry more than chocolate ice cream and you'll still make me happy."

"Well, if our circumstances of meeting are the worst part of the relationship, I think that's a pretty good incentive to making better more normal memories, yeah?"

"Maybe." He kissed the tip of your still pink nose.

"Maybe, we could go back to my place? It's always freezing here." You added with a shiver making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Not when you're here. Just stay here a second longer." His lips moved with their own incentive. It didn't take much convincing on either of your parts before you were upstairs in his room. A path of clothes thrown haphazardly off of each other through broken giggles and soft kisses, until your just in under clothes. He holds you to him as he opens the door to his room, and your feet barely touch the floor as he twirls the two of you around. Bringing you down with him as he falls backward on the bed with a thud. Kissing you with fondness, sweet like the honey color of his eyes. You loved him so much it hurt like the side pains after laughing so hard you teared up. Like when you realize that magic might not be real but people were and kindness. Kindness and compassion were the real magic. People found a reason to be with each other, even if it was once a year. Steve never had that. Everything in his life was transactional, Christmas, school, his parents, most other relationships. Those few closet to him probably haven't ever seen this side either. The checkered boy room with little to no traces of living aside from Steve's nightstand with Polaroids of everyone scattered about. A bin in his closet kept hidden away where he'd kept his Scoops Ahoy name tag, a letter from a pen-pal in sixth grade, ticket stubs of every drive in movie. Some more Polaroids for his eyes only you'd given him after you first started dating, and he'd left his shirt in your room. Even as you lay on top of him now, kisses sucked into your neck, his strong hands massaging your sides in worship. You couldn't help what words came out next.

"Come with me." You begged him breathlessly opening your eyes to see his lips swollen and slick, hair haloed and shaggy around his face and sheets. Like melting caramel against the ugly grey and navy bedding.

"Already babe, I haven't even touched you." He mumbled rocking his pelvis into yours, forcing your legs to accommodate him more with a thigh on either side of his hips. You sat up taller straddling him, a pout etched into your face.

"No, I mean. Come home with me, lets live together. I'll get rid of things you can bring whatever you want, I can dip into my tuition nest egg and buy whatever we need for the apartment. Make it yours too, or we can find another one that you like better. I just want you all to myself." He sat up holding onto your waist so you didn't fall, making you squeak with the shift in position. Your heart sank as his eyes were so wide they could've jumped out of his skull.

“What?” he asked as his breath caught in his throat, a pure swell of undoubtable happiness warming him from the tip of his nose down to his sock covered feet.

“It’s just, I wasn’t lying Stevie. I wanna take care of you, you give so much to every-” He kissed you, desperately. Teeth clashing and tongues forming together making you dizzy enough to loose balance upright on your knees. Pulling back to gasp for air, a string of spit connecting you to him. He wiped it away, tucking his head into your chest.

“You’re perfect. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“Even picking out a Christmas Tree with me?”

“I will grow you a damn Christmas Tree, even better I’ll get the kids to help me chop down one in my backyard!”

“Stevie! That’s dangerous.”

“Well, sweets.

Danger.

Is.

My middle name.” He trailed four kisses down your body, stopping just shy of your covered mound. Hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear, biting your hip making you buck up long enough for him to shimmy them off your legs.

“I thought your middle name was Alexander?”

“You won’t your own name once I’m done with you.” He said sultry, kneeling at the foot of the bed. Yanking your ankles to bring you closer to his mouth, spreading your legs wide and over his shoulders. You were beautiful, regardless what you were doing but letting him take care of you. Make you feel good and be vulnerable, made his head spin. Your lips were sticky with arousal, he could smell your sweet nectar begging for him to taste you. Marks still slightly visible from last time, he started there sucking and biting the mailable flesh.

“Stevie, please-” You cried out, hands trying to find purchase with his. He stopped sucking a bruise, eyes blown wide when he found yours. Locking your hands to your sides,

“Your so sweet, baby. Asking so nicely.” He chastely kissed on your hood, tongue licking underneath to wet and flick at your clit. You groaned and threw you head back, “So sweet, baby. Keep your legs open for me. I have a lot of apologizing to do down here.”

“Stevie, no I want you. Please.” You writhed on the bed trying to keep your legs spread for him, he blew cool air at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing. You body craved to be filled, senses overwhelmed of one thing: Steve, Steve, Steve!

“Just wanna warm you up, we have all the time in the world sweets. Wanna wreck this bed before leaving.” He was antagonizing you, teasing with his pretty words and slightly movements you couldn’t even respond him. He licked a line from your entrance to your clit, groaning at your taste. Hips colliding with the end of his bed to relieve pressure as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Rolling the bud with his tongue, your nail dug into his knuckles as you shook with ecstasy.

“ ‘S so good, Stevie. Don’t stop-” You were so pent up from earlier all it took was a few more rolls of his tongue against you and for you to fall apart. Concentrating on keeping your legs open for him, as he licked you clean. Nudging his nose against your sensitive clit, he let go of one of your hands tangling it in his hair.

“Hold it out of my face, baby. I want one more before I cum inside you.” He coated his fingers with your release, slowly sliding in one as his tongue still fucked into you. You couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face when he added another finger inside you. Scissoring, stretching you and rubbing against your spongy spot. You tugged at his locks when he came back up to suck at your clit again, you didn’t even notice the heat break in your belly until you gushed and clenched around his fingers. You pushed at his forehead from sensitivity, barely able to catch your breath when you pulled him up to kiss you. lips and chins dripping of you. Trailing your nails down his soft tummy following the happy trail underneath his boxers, you met him halfway stroking his thick cock with your slick. Still coating his hand, pre-cum dripping from his tip making the sounds completely pornographic.

“ ‘m not gonna last baby, want you so bad.” He whispered against your lips, breathing heavy with a sheen of sweat layering you both in the smell of sex.

“Need you too, wanted you ages ago.” You sassed, making him laugh against your cheek as he stood. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock twitched when it brushed against the inside of your thigh.

“You gotta big mouth on you, sweet girl.”

“You better do something about it, Harrington.” With a roguish grin he ran his length over your clit once before pushing ever so slightly inside. Taking your breaths away, you were the girl and only girl who could take Steve’s fat cock completely. He just has to ease you into it, inch by inch until his hip bone grazed the back of your thighs. Steve stood tall and far enough away you couldn’t kiss him from where you were sprawled out under him. You pulled and squeezed at your breasts still contained by your bra. His cock glistening with your slick as he pulled his hips back, then pushing deeper inside his sack pressed tight against your ass. Steve nearly loss his balance when you clenched around him, putting his hands under your knees. Folding you in half made it feel like he was in your throat, he leaned over you the pressure of his body as he set a ruthless pace set flames in your abdomen. Pounding his cock into you over and over again moaning out praises as he bullied all the way to your cervix. Punching breaths out of you watching as your tits bounced, you had enough pulling him fully on top you. Hands indenting his shoulders as your hips met his, clit pulsing and with need.

“You feel so good. Shit, shit- I’m cumming, cumming inside.” Steve’s core tighten as he ran two finger over your clit, heat erupted across your body. You milked Steve dry, his warm seed and your three orgasms dripping from each others groin. You pulled him on top of you, comforted by his weight on you as his cock softened inside you.

“Do you really want too?” You asked in the post orgasm bliss, running a hair through his now tangled locks. “I don’t want to trap you with amazing sex and joy but it’s definitely a perk.” Steve rose onto his elbows, still seated inside you. Brushing the hair out of your face, with softness.

“I’m sure we can wreck this bed a lot more than just cum stains.” Pushing at his chest, he pulled out of you gently. Scurrying to his bathroom where you listened as he turned on the faucet in the shower. Sitting up, he came back with all his glory. Hand raised for you to take, the same olive branch you’d given him at Starcourt. All this time. “I can’t wait to spend Christmas in our home, together.”

You’d never been so excited to spend the holidays with anyone else.

Masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things season 3 #oneshot #no minors allowed #reader insert #tis the season #holiday themed

461 notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 3 months

Text

THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 96)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 96 next>>

A/N: This contains prose + video. Just mind the arrangement. | 2.4 k words | contains angst

You weren't taking the situation so well, that much Satoru could tell from where he sat at the foot of Mei-Mei's bed. Frustration and anger emanated from you like a dark miasma, evident in the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead and the sound of your strained breathing as if you were suffocating. But he stayed stock-still, uncertainty gnawing at him from the inside out at the thought of what it would do to you if he came any closer.

And so, he merely watched, keeping a safe distance. Watched as you pounded on the door repeatedly, the sound seemingly reflecting the thudding in his chest – heavy, tense. If you were any bigger than you were, the door would probably groan on its hinges, but it remained solid under you constant assaults.

You'd periodically stop, furiously tapping on your phone or calling somebody. "Come on, come on," you repeated through gritted teeth before you'd cuss in frustration, looking about ready to break anything you could put your hands on. Of course, it was to no avail. Satoru knew your shared friends very well. They've most likely had enough of what's going on between the two of you – or the lack thereof – and took matters in their own hands, thinking it would help. They were incorrigible like that, all of them. Even Kento who was against it was obviously not going to do anything about it although for an entirely different reason. Perhaps they thought it was funny or romantic even, trying to keep the pair of you in an enclosed space in hopes you'd settle whatever problems you had.

But it wasn't that simple. Nothing was ever simple with you.

Besides, seeing you now, he couldn't disagree with what Kento said, and quite frankly, he, too, was afraid of the damage it would add to the already messed up situation you're both in. You didn’t want to be with him, and though he felt the opposite of that, he still didn’t want it to happen the way it did. He thought, when the day came the two of you would speak again, it would be of your own volition, not because you were trapped and left without a choice but to face him. And perhaps, Satoru was right not to keep his hopes up even when you responded to him earlier in the day; even when your anger at the moment wasn't exactly directed at him.

"Open this door!" you called out, your voice pretty much drowning in the noise of Mei-Mei's numerous guests and the loud bass coming from the floor below. "Fuck," you swore under your breath, about to kick the door, but opting not to when you realized last minute that you were wearing strappy high heels. You clenched your fist, looking like you were ready to throttle anyone. Turning from the door, you placed your hands on your waist, throwing your head back as you attempted to still your breathing, your face turning red at the effort. Or maybe you were just livid.

Satoru's mood which was already dampened since you walked into the party, soured even more. Throw in the unhappiness and heartbreak he had been living through since you walked away from him, and he was in absolute internal chaos, his emotions seeming to want to break out and overflow. Sukuna was right. He had the right to be pissed off, too, and seeing the way you're acting as if you were burning just being in the same room with him, that's exactly how he felt. You were fine with him, everything was going smoothly. You warmed up to him, there was no doubt about that when you’ve let your guard down and opened up to him, melting all the barriers you held high around you to let him in. So what the fuck happened?

However, that seemed to have fizzled away when you suddenly slumped down on the floor like a newborn calf unable to withstand its weight, eyes closed as you leaned against the door and hit your head against it, once, twice. Not wanting it to happen a third time, Satoru finally moved, kneeling before you in a flash as he placed a hand on the scarce space between your head and the door. He didn’t like that you were hurting yourself over the inconvenience, but then again, maybe that was better for you, enduring some other kind of sensation in comparison to being in the same breathing space as him.

Satoru looked at you as he shook his head, imploring you to stop. "Don't..." His voice trailed off, bracing himself for your retaliation. He held his breath, hanging his head low, ready to back off if you wanted to push him away. Being near him was probably the last thing you wanted. But you didn't do or say anything. You just quietly sat there, letting him retain his place in front of you.

Mustering all the courage, he lifted his head only to be met by your eyes, wide as they gazed upon his. You seemed to have calmed down even in his suddenly hazy vision. And then he felt something warm on his cheeks. It was your hands, cupping his face, both your thumbs swiping just under his eyes.

"You're crying," you murmured, and though your brows furrowed, you sounded gentle, sad. "Why are you crying?"

What? He didn't even realize it until you said it. Why, indeed? The elation he expected at the prospect of having you that close to him again wasn't there. All he felt was the fresh wound in his heart being wrenched open to bleed again, and instead of pain, he felt resentment. He resented that he couldn't get over you, that he still didn't have a reason to hate you no matter how many times you throw his heart to the ground and step on it, too. He resented that you weren't kicking and screaming at the thought of being too close to him again; that you were concerned about why he was shedding tears; resented that you knew why but asked anyway.

But he could be petty, too, right? He deserved at least that even when all he wanted to do was keep you in his arms and never let you go. He could do that. You deserved his anger, too.

Satoru retracted a bit, looking you in the eyes as he said, "You're gonna be okay."

"I –"

"There's no use trying to get out when those bastards set us up to be in here, Y/N. But it's gonna be fine." He tried to blink his tears back, a lump forming in his throat but he couldn't hide his pain when he said, "I... I know you h-hate me, b-but –"

Your hands limply fell to your sides, hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud, cutting him short as the warmth of your palms left him. He followed them with his eyes, a look of longing drawing itself across his features when he realized you were acting distant again.

"I don't hate you, Gojo." You chuckled quietly, resting your head on the door as you stared blankly at him. "I never hated you."

When he didn't speak, you droned on, "Just because I don't feel the same way you do, it doesn't mean I hate you."

He wished you did. Love him back. Hate him. He didn't know anymore. You said one thing and did another. One time, you’d be looking at him in disdain, removing yourself from his touch and pretending he didn’t exist, and then the other, you’re doing little things that showed him you still cared, that somewhere in there, you didn’t completely dismiss the idea of him. Was it guilt? He didn’t want you to feel that, but he somehow felt vindicated at the same time.

Satoru stood up, looming over you, arms akimbo as he started pacing. Why do you even bother to do those things if you were just going to reject him anyway? His lips curled contumeliously, his breathing becoming heavier as everything he felt spilled over. His eyes looked like cold gems when he finally stopped and looked at you, thinking that if you would hear him out, it was his chance. "Alright. You don't hate me. I'm just not worth one shitty explanation, right?"

You frowned. "That's not true –"

"That's how I feel!" he raised his voice to counter yours. "That's how you made me feel! Like I'm not even worth one goddamn answer, because, what, Y/N? I'm just someone you're fucking?"

You also stood up. "No –"

"My feelings don't count? It's all a fucking contract to you?" The words wouldn't stop the moment they fell out of his lips.

"Don’t do this."

He faintly heard you, but his thoughts were too loud to heed yours, and he was too caught up in the moment, finally finding the words to say unlike that time when only you got to say your piece while all he could do was beg. "You don't get to tell me what's true and what's not when you wouldn't even give me the answers I need."

He felt your hand on his arm, gripping tight. "Stop –" But he easily maneuvered the situation so he was holding onto your shoulders instead, backing you up against the door before slamming his fist on the spot just above your head, effectively trapping you in place.

"No, you stop!" Satoru shouted, shaking as he looked at you, fury smoldering in his eyes. "All I was asking for was the reason why. I bared my soul to you. At least, tell me why."

"I can't..."

You averted your gaze downward, but he lifted your face up by the chin, taking care to be gentle despite himself. "You can't what, Y/N?" He was getting so frustrated that he couldn't help but glare at you as he waited for your response, not letting the way your eyes glistened with tears sway him even when he felt his heart lurch unpleasantly at the sight of it.

"Please...just don’t…" You lifted your hands, clutching at the sides of your head as you tried to get the proper words out. “Don’t ask.”

Satoru shook his head, stepping even closer into your space until he could feel your body against his. "You don't get to plead with me when you refused to listen to me all these weeks."

Your tears fell, your hands reaching up to his chest, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. He shook you slightly. "I should be asking why you are crying. Why, Y/N? Are you hurting, too? Why would you feel that way when you said this is what you wanted?"

"Satoru..."

At that, he chuckled bitterly. "Now it's 'Satoru'?" He hated himself for saying it, but he couldn't help it, all the rage pouring out uncontrollably. "Using my name to get what you want now? You're just so aware of your effect on me, aren't you?” He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, just go ahead and use my name like you do when you're all incoherent in bed under me, why don't you?"

You flashed him an angry look, your pupils constricting rapidly as you leveled with him. "Don't fucking go there," you hissed.

"Shouldn't I?" he taunted. "We're here anyway, and I sure as hell didn't agree to dissolving our contract. Why don't you earn the right to call me by my name again, hmm, sweet cheeks?" His tone dripped with bitterness even as he tenderly ran the back of his fingers over your cheeks, pressing closer. He slotted his leg between yours, making you gasp. "Come on, say it again."

“You’re being ridiculous right now.”

Satoru chuckled against your neck. “Maybe I am, but isn’t our arrangement ridiculous to begin with?” He grabbed you on the hips, pulling you closer towards him. “If this is the only way you’ll have me around, I don’t think it’s too bad.”

You jerked away from his touch even as he started placing kisses from your jawline down to your neck. "Stop..." Your voice wasn't anything above a shaky whisper, feeling your heart crack and losing all the fight in you upon hearing his words. “What have I done to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” He shook his head, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes screwed shut as he held you close to him. “You can lie to me, Y/N. I wouldn’t care as long as I get to have you. I’ll forget how I feel about you.”

“Satoru, stop it –”

“You can use me, make me your plaything. Just…just stay with me. Say you want me, too.”

“No…”

“Can’t you love me, too?”

“No.”

“Am I that bad that you can’t?”

“That’s not it. I –”

“I love –”

"Stop it!" you said louder, and this time he listened, growing roots on his spot when he realized what he was doing. Satoru wanted to burn in hell when he momentarily saw panic in your eyes, morphing into a look that screamed agony and utter dejection when his gaze met yours. But then, your hands reached out to clutch at his forearms for support when your knees gave way beneath you, your breaths unsteady.

Shit, he thought. He fucked up big time, the realization of it feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on him, making him shiver. He held onto you, keeping you on your feet but his heart was telling him to let you go, for him to step back and see what he's wrought. But just when he was about to do that, you held on tighter, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He didn't know why you weren't pushing him away. When the sobering feeling of what he was doing finally dawned on him, he wished you would hurt him again, slap him, condemn him to hell, anything. But instead, you gravitated towards him, your arms sliding to his sides before winding around him, holding him together and keeping him tethered, tight and warm and good, so, so good, that he thought he was hallucinating everything. He wished he was.

Satoru tried to gently pry your arms off him, but you refused, shaking your head against his chest. “Y/N, I…”

“Shh.” Your voice was wobbly with your tears, but you maintained your hold on him, hands lightly running on his back to soothe him. “You don’t have to say anything.” “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, making you let go. “I’m so sorry.”

TAGS LIST: @arxliana @neeneee @charlie-xo @aelynaneedsalottathing @arizzu @cloudxp @justpuddinglol @mikkies @nyfwyeonjun @whats-humanity-lol @letthewindlead @whore-of-many-hot-men @localgaytrainwreck @pikibee @bloombb @mr-underhills-things @lysaray @chocoyanchan @poemzcheng @bookswillfindyouaway @dreamxiing @koutaroo @taelattecookie @kazuhasmaid @weebbuscuit @moonmalice @taengkatsu @reagan707 @lysaray @to0ru @shirabane @yell0wdreams @r0ckst4rjk @megtheebimbo @tmvll9

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

77 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 1 year

Text

Demons

A/N: I'm baaacckkkkk, I was inspired by a tik tok about how dangerous the winter solstice is, and how the veil between this world and the next is thinnest this time of year. So, in honor of my previous spooky Nat fic, I wrote this :) Hope you all enjoy! Listen to Demons by Hayley Kiyoko if you're feeling jazzy. Image is from pintrest not mine, credit goes to the creator!

Summary: The darkest night of the year harbors dangerous creatures, and you find yourself in a precarious situation when Natasha returns after a month of radio silence...

Warnings: Uhhhh lesbian sex (duh), blood (minimal), dark! Wanda & dark! Natasha (not super dark just spooky) , slight horror themes, porn w plot, fingering (r receiving, Wanda receiving), oral (r giving & receiving, nat giving). Lmk if I missed anything, this was a long one and I wouldn't be surprised if I did tbh.

Word Count: 3.5K

Autumn departed in a long drawn-out battle, temperate weather ebbed into freezing winds and biting blizzards. Bare tree branches scraped against your window, and the leaves have long fallen to be replaced with icicles and heavy snow. Dried herbs and pickled goods littered your minimal counter and cabinet space, casting strange shadows in the dark. You sat in a small armchair near your fireplace, a book splayed open on your lap. The scent of bitternut hickory logs burning filled the space, mingling with the dried herbs and the soup you’d prepared earlier.

Your cat purred as she slept by the fireplace, her paws kneading the air. Your cozy cabin felt lonelier than ever during this holiday season, your only company was the cat. This solitude had never bothered you before, but after Natasha had slipped into your life and just as easily slunk out of your life, you found yourself feeling lonely. Your nightly visitor had stopped visiting, and you found yourself missing her company. After her last visit on All Hallow’s Eve, she stopped coming, and your fears were confirmed. Natasha wasn’t a townie who was visiting your isolated home, she was something else entirely. A true creature of the night, bound by ancient laws to restrict the havoc she could bring to the secular world.

Deep down, you had always known this was the case, her glowing eyes, sharp fangs, and claws hidden under a vague disguise gave her away. You shouldn’t miss her, she was not yours to keep, and she likely hadn’t thought about you since that final encounter. But you thought of her constantly, every night you spent between cold sheets with your fingers buried in your heat you thought of her. You closed your book, eyebrows knitting together at the memory of her body slotting against yours, the chorus of your moans filling your quiet cabin. The book clattered to the ground as you stood quickly from your chair. A log in the fireplace popped loudly, but your cat continued to purr, her flank rising steadily with each tiny breath. You ground your teeth as your eyes flickered around your tiny cabin, taking stock of the herbs you had grown and gathered.

It wasn’t enough. You hadn’t been prepared for All Hallow’s which is why you felt so tormented. Mere days separated you from the Winter Solstice, a time when the veil between worlds was thinnest. It was the popular belief that Halloween or Samhain was the most dangerous night of the year. But those people would be sorely mistaken, the true danger lies in the darkest night of the year which occurs on the Winter Solstice, a time when sun deities are said to have died. You were counting on Natasha’s return on this night, but you needed boundaries this time. You flew into a frenzy, throwing open cabinets and lighting beeswax candles as you rummaged through your stores. It became apparent that you would have to run into town for mistletoe and yule logs. There was little you could do tonight, so you set about pacing your cabin as you made a mental list of what needed to be done.

________

As the first rays of sun filtered through your window, you were already dressed and stepping out the door. You hurried into your beaten pickup truck, allowing the ancient vehicle to warm up as you double-checked your list. One full day of sunlight stood between you and the darkest night, between you and Natasha meeting once more. Of course, this was all provided she wanted to see you, a thought that made your stomach swirl with anxiety. Once the truck was warm enough you slowly drove through the powdery snow, navigating your way through the precarious roads.

Once in town, you checked off each item, leaving nothing to chance. You were back in your cabin, unloading sprigs of mistletoe and hauling yule logs into your home. You tethered the mistletoe above every threshold and sprinkled some salt down for good measure. A large chunk of beef was simmering in bone broth on your stove, the aroma overpowering the scent of smoke and herbs. The berries you had preserved were bubbling in a mixture of lemon juice, water, and sugar, well on their way to becoming a fine jam. A feast for yourself would be ready by dark, which wasn’t far away, and maybe if you were feeling generous, you’d welcome a guest.

The afternoon slipped by and you watched the sun set as you placed your jam in jars, the scent of freshly baked bread threatening to overwhelm the scent of the stew. It was the proper way to fend off spirits, a warm meal, salt covering thresholds, and mistletoe dangling above every doorway. Most would surely pass you by, but you were praying that one wouldn’t. As you sat out plates and poured yourself a glass of wassail, the heady scent of cider and cloves filled your nose as you brought the steaming cup to your lips. The flames of your candles licked at the air, occasionally spitting plumes of smoke into the still air. The sky outside was like crushed black velvet with studded diamonds sprinkled across its surface. You found yourself enamored with the vision of perfect constellations, the heat of your drink seeping into your calloused palms.

Just as you began to think about sitting down to eat your meal, there was a soft yet demanding knock on your door. Any feeling of warmth or comfort left your body as gooseflesh rose to the surface of your flesh. You sat your cup down softly and carefully crossed the room, pausing in front of the door, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“Hello?” Your voice was mistreated, rough from not speaking often. Your porch creaked under the weight of whatever was on the other side of your door.

“Let me in.” The voice was unfamiliar, your smile dropped from your face, eyes widening as a cold sweat broke out all over your body. It was feminine and sultry but it certainly was not Natasha.

“No.” Your breathing picked up as you staggered backward, and a soft malicious chuckle filled your ears as if the creature was right behind you. You spun around only to find your crackling fireplace with your cat batting a ball of yarn innocently across the floor. Another slow rhythmic knock rang through the cabin.

“Come on, don’t be scared.” The creature sang between knocks, followed by a soft scratching sound.

“Little witch I know you’re home.” You struggled to maintain your breathing as the scratches grew louder.

“You must be so lonely in there. I can help you.” The scratches stopped, the porch creaked, and the hinges on your door groaned. Carefully, you stepped closer to the door, call it a morbid curiosity. You pressed your body against the door, your ear on the smooth wood as you listened intently.

“Speak to me.” A wispy voice rang through the wood, she was also pressed against the door, and the vision of a beautiful woman just on the other side filled your mind. Subconsciously, your disloyal fingers wrapped around the brass knob, turning it a quarter before a searing heat burned your palm.

You yelped loudly and laughter rang through your cabin, a sadistic sound that made your blood freeze. You stepped back again, nearly tripping over the ball of yarn as you sank into your chair.

“I won’t leave until you open this door.” The voice grew stern and you felt a tear slip past your lashes, the fear encompassing you. Between shaky breaths, you gathered yourself before throwing another yule log onto the fire. The ashes swirled as the logs popped and snapped because of the blistering heat. Your stew was growing cold, the forgotten glass of wassail sat on your counter, and the creaks of the creature outside grew louder and more impatient with each passing minute.

“Let me in.” The voice sounded tired and frustrated as it continued to plead, a pitiful scratch followed the request.

“I won’t!” You shouted into the brisk night air, and the creature hummed.

“You will.” The creature growled and the candles you’d lit flickered out, leaving you in darkness. Your cat yowled before racing into your bathroom, the clatter of things falling led you to believe she had jumped into your shower. The pounding on the door was louder now, more demanding, you covered your ears and curled into yourself, tucking your legs to your chest in fear. Suddenly the pounding stopped, the porch creaked again, and then you could discern a second set of footsteps.

“I told you to wait.” Natasha.

“I couldn’t help myself Natty.” The other voice sounded soft and playful.

“You’ll have your turn.” Natasha hissed and you nearly flew to the door to open it at the sound of her voice.

“Natasha!” You screamed and their hushed voices stopped. The darkness seemed to heighten your senses, you swore you could hear them both breathing heavily on the other side of the door.

“Let me in darling.” Natasha turned the doorknob impatiently and you paused, recalling the salt and mistletoe. You kicked the salt aside and took a deep breath, your hand resting on the brass knob as Natasha turned it once more.

“Just you.” Your voice was shaky and brimming with fear. Natasha laughed softly and turned the knob once more.

“Just me.” Little did you know, she was crossing her fingers between her back, her lips curled into a sinister grin as her friend hovered over her shoulder. You opened the door slowly, peeking through the crack to see Natasha standing innocently, alongside another beautiful woman. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the two. Natasha looked the same, her red hair tied back in a loose braid, green eyes sparkling in the moonlight. She looked like a vixen, her white teeth shining in the soft firelight that slipped through your cracked door.

“This is Wanda, she won’t hurt you.” Natasha stepped aside, and you got your first good look at your tormentor. She had dark hair that hung loosely around her round face, her hands were locked together in front of her. But what truly caught your attention was her face, her eyes were green like Natasha’s but they were wider, more doe-eyed. She had full pink lips that curled into a grin as she noticed your prolonged stare.

“It’s freezing out here.” Natasha hinted at you to let them in, making a show of rubbing her hands together.

“Come in.” You threw all inhibitions to the wind as you let the door swing open and stepped aside. The two stepped in quickly and you shut the door behind them, Natasha paused under the mistletoe, reaching up to tap it lightly. The bundle of leaves swung with the disturbance and you watched it, swallowing thickly as Natasha turned her attention to you. Wanda stood looking into your fire, her neck craning down as she watched the flames lick the logs.

“How festive,” Natasha murmured, reaching out and cupping your face and you found yourself leaning into her touch, despite the coolness of her palms and the sharpness of her claws.

“I missed you.” You whispered as she touched her forehead to yours, red whisps of hair slipping from her braid as she did so.

“I’m here,” Natasha spoke softly, her lips brushing yours as she did so, her thumb brushing over your ear lobe tenderly. She leaned forward and sealed her lips with yours, setting a slow and sensual pace as her arms circled around you, pulling you flush against her.

“Wow get a room.” Wanda scoffed, whirling around on her heel and smirking as the two of you broke apart.

“Can we eat? I’m starving.” Wanda’s green eyes glowed in the firelight, she licked her lips and the fear that was hiding inside of you was ignited again.

“I could eat.” Natasha shrugged, her own gaze languid but lurking beneath you could sense that familiar darkness. Something told you they weren’t talking about your stew, you slipped out of Natasha’s grasp and moved through the small space to grab your drink. You gulped down a few long sips, the auburn liquid slipping past your lips and dripping down your chin. Natasha sighed loudly, walking to Wanda and rubbing her back.

“I’m famished.” You made eye contact with each of them, blinking slowly as the two broke into sly grins.

“Come here, sweet girl.” Natasha crooned and you slowly padded over to her, your confidence fading with every step. Wanda bit her lip, her sharp fangs protruding as she did so. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had a forked tongue as well, maybe even a pair of leathery wings folded behind her back. Once you were an arm's length away, Natasha grabbed your wrist and reeled you in, kissing your jaw as her hands cradled the back of your neck and wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in Natasha’s affections, her claws scratching your back softly.

“Give me a turn Natty.” Wanda whimpered and your eyes flew open, meeting her green ones as she placed her chin on Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda’s warm breath fanned over your lips, her long lashes batting as she watched your mouth drop open. Natasha’s lips had found your collarbone, her sharp teeth scraping against soft warm skin.

“When I’m done, you’ll never forget who you belong to.” Natasha hissed against your skin and Wanda giggled, leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours just as Natasha broke your skin. A hot trail of blood slipped down between the valley of your breasts, staining your shirt as it blazed a trail down your body. You gasped against Wanda’s open mouth, her laughter cut through the tension as she cupped the side of our face softly.

Her lips found yours again and you honed your focus in on kissing her, your tongues mingling as your heads turned to reach deeper into one another. Meanwhile, Natasha had sunk onto her knees, resting between you and Wanda as Wanda’s own hands greedily tugged at the hem of your white blouse. Natasha was busy pulling your pants down, along with your underwear, her cold hands roaming along the expanse of your thighs. Wanda broke the kiss so she could pull your shirt off, leaving you completely exposed to the women. She groaned as she cupped your breasts, smearing your own blood across your skin as she leaned in and took a pert nipple between her teeth, biting down softly. You threw your head back and arched into her, Natasha’s finger traced along your labia, smearing your arousal as she watched you and Wanda from below.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like this, covered in blood, being such a good girl for us.” Natasha groaned as she sunk a finger into your heat. You whimpered, your hand clutching the back of Wanda’s head as you struggled to meet Natasha’s gaze. Wanda switched breasts, her green eyes lidded as she savored you, her cold hands skating along your sides. Natasha’s own lips latched onto your neglected clit, suckling softly as Wanda returned to your lips, kissing you deeply. Natasha added another finger, slowly curling her digits to massage the rough spot inside of you that she knew drove you crazy. Your knees buckled and you nearly lost your balance, Natasha chuckled as Wanda steadied you, her fingers digging into your shoulders. Natasha continued her ministrations, feeling your pussy clench down on her fingers as Wanda stripped off her clothes.

“Nat, please. I need you so bad.” You whimpered as Natasha’s fingers picked up their pace, her thumb finding your clit once more. Wanda was nearly nude now, her teeth shimmering in the firelight as she leaned in to place fiery kisses along the column of your throat, your head was thrown back in ecstasy. The tight knot in your stomach was becoming unbearable, and the ache between your legs seemed insatiable. Natasha’s fingers held a brutal pace, the loud noise of her fingers sinking into your cunt spurring her on. Wanda’s fingers found your neglected clit, nearly matching the pace that Natasha had set.

“Go ahead sweet girl, come for us.” Wanda bit down on your ear lobe, her lips pressed against the side of your neck. That was all you needed to hear before tipping over the edge, your legs shaking as your eyes rolled back and a wave of pleasure washed over you. Natasha slowly let you come down from your high as Wanda peppered kisses across your collarbones, whispering praises as your heart rate returned to a normal rhythm. You felt like the room was spinning as Natasha cupped your chin in her hand, a smug grin smeared on her face.

“Let's go to the bedroom huh?” Natasha’s brow raised suggestively and you hummed in agreement, eager for what was to come next. The three of you staggered into your bedroom, crowding into the queen-sized mattress that occupied most of the room. Natasha reclined against the pillows, patting the space between her legs and pointing at Wanda, who leaped at the opportunity. Wanda laid back against Natasha’s chest, her head notching between Natasha’s neck and shoulder perfectly, the sight made you jealous. You pushed your lower lip out in a pout, unsure where you were supposed to lay, what you were supposed to do. Natasha laughed, her long slender fingers skating down to stroke Wanda’s glistening pussy, Wanda moaned, burying her face into Natasha’s neck. You watched as Natasha’s fingers slipped into Wanda’s heat effortlessly, her arousal shimmering in the moonlight.

“Come here, sweetie.” Natasha hummed and you climbed onto the bed, slowly crawling between Wanda’s legs. You rested on your elbows, watching as Natasha’s fingers slowly pumped into Wanda’s cunt.

“Go ahead, take care of her.” Natasha withdrew her fingers, a stretchy string of Wanda’s wetness still connecting them. Wanda whined at the loss of contact, her eyes screwed shut as her hips rose from the mattress eagerly. Your mouth watered as you leaned in to place a soft kiss on her clit. Wanda sighed as your tongue lapped at her aching cunt, her hands weaving into your hair to keep you close. Your eyes remained trained on Wanda’s face, which was twisted in pleasure as Natasha’s hands roamed her body and your tongue delved into her.

“‘m close Natty.” Wanda cried out, her hips grinding against your face as you looked at Natasha, trying to see what she wanted. Natasha nodded at you, a proud gleam in her eyes as you focused on bringing Wanda over the edge. Your fingers sank into her heat, slowly setting a steady rhythm.

“Tell me about it, Wanda, what’s she doing to you?” Natasha asked and your cunt throbbed, as Wanda whimpered as her fingers pulled at your hair desperately.

“S-she’s… her fingers are inside of me.” Wanda stuttered as you kept your pace, eager to bring her pleasure.

“Go on…” Natasha sighed, her hands cupping Wanda’s breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples. Wanda gasped, her hips jutting off of the bed and pressing into your mouth. You moaned into her, your mouth watering as you continued to eat her out.

“Natty please, I’m so very close, please let me come.” Wanda yelped as your teeth scraped against her sensitive bud. You felt her clench down on your fingers, her leg twitching as her orgasm built up inside her.

“Go ahead Wanda, come for us, baby.” Natasha hissed into Wanda’s ear and the woman screeched, her thighs clamping down around your head, her fingers pulling at your hair as she rode out her high. You sighed contently as her body shook with tremors, you gave her clit one last kitten lick before departing and she whimpered, at the stimulation.

“Come here,” Wanda spoke between pants and you crawled up her body, your head spinning as she reeled you in for a searing kiss.

“How did she taste (Y/n)?” Natasha’s hand rubbed your back languidly and you broke the kiss to respond.

“Like candy.” You teased and Wanda’s nose scrunched at the jest.

“You surprised me tonight sweet girl.” Natasha hummed, toying with a strand of your hair as you laid down on Wanda’s chest, your own fingers busying themselves in Wanda’s curls.

“It could be like this every night….for a price,” Natasha mumbled, and Wanda chuckled darkly.

“I might just take you up on that offer.” You sighed as Wanda’s nails traced patterns on your back.

“Think about it, we’ll be waiting.” Your eyes slipped closed, tangled in their warmth despite the cold outside. You knew you’d wake up alone, and you knew that if you agreed to their terms, your life would change. For the better? Likely not, but you found yourself weighing your odds. You might just agree if it meant you would spend every night like this.

Tags:

@natashaxwife

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff smut #natasha smut #wandanat x y/n #dark natasha x reader #dark wanda maximoff #dark wandanat #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #smut imagine #wanda maximoff x reader smut

500 notes · View notes

criminalmindsgonewrong · 5 months

Text

how does our team celebrate Christmas?

penelope: the whole goddamn shabang. she goes caroling, she bakes gingerbread and then builds her own gingerbread house, complete with people and a little gingerbread cat. she goes overboard with the decorations.

hotch: uses his time off and the Christmas season to do as many activities as he can with Jack. they go ice skating, watch Christmas movies, Christmas shopping, they go and see santa and watch parades. they visit haleys grave. he spends Christmas morning with Jack and then drops him with haleys parents for Christmas Dinner, making his way to rossis for adult Christmas which he's always a little sad about even though he has fun.

rossi: buys everyone really expensive gifts. hosts Christmas Dinner- doesn't cook, though. hires catering staff, whom he also buys expensive presents for (usually wine)

emily: takes pride in being the drunkest across the holiday season. Christmas eve, Christmas day, new years eve, new years day and every day in between. also buys everyone really expensive gifts. two years into working at the bau penelope finds out Emily doesn't put a tree up - something to do with her childhood hm - and buys her one, forcing the whole team round to Emily's apartment to decorate. it becomes a tradition.

morgan: decorates his house TO THE NINES in the weeks leading up to Christmas only for the lights to go dark over Christmas eve and Christmas day because he's in Chicago with his family. comes back to Virginia and spends new year with the team though.

reid: also misses out on Christmas day with the team because he spends it with his mom (once he moves Diana to Virginia, there are two extra seats at rossis table) spends new years with the team though, same as Morgan. penelope puts his tree up for him - he always claims he's too busy, and he pretends to be a little annoyed but really he's grateful. she doesn't make the team help with his because she knows how he values his space.

jj: santa, stockings and last minute holiday shopping. jj is The Worst - she's always roped one or more of them into Christmas eve shopping with her because she's not had the time. jj, will and the boys alternate spending Christmas with the team and with jjs family. they have Christmas morning at home, let the boys open gifts, then they go for a big family walk after breakfast and head either across the border or to the Rossi mansion for a feast.

#how do they spend christmas?#criminal minds #criminal minds gone wrong #incorrect criminal minds quotes #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #ba-queue #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia #bau

123 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 6 months

Text

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Three: Sirius

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

Sirius guessed he had expected heat in Athens. Just subconsciously. Instead, he zipped up his black Patagonia as he walked into the kitchen and pulled a knit hat down over his ears. He put the stove-top coffee on, hissing a little at the leap of the flame while igniting the gas.

It was a sagging, one story house. Narrow and tucked between two other ones just like it. The kitchen came first, a window looking out onto the street. They kept the curtains drawn. The living room was really just a small, thin-cushioned couch in the kitchen, and the three bedrooms were off of the single hallway. One bathroom. Sirius sighed as he waited for the water to heat. One bathroom had freezing or scalding water. But it was safe. At least for now. No bugs, both he and James had checked while Finn stood there nervously like he was afraid to move. They’d have Leo check again once he arrived, just in case.

The coffee began to bubble, the creme on the top thickened by the sugar. When they had been here last, Remus had taken strongly to the bittersweet drink, even the gritty taste of the fine coffee grounds in it. Sirius didn’t love it, but he needed something.

Because Remus was somewhere in this city. Somewhere on this Earth.

He checked the cupboards. At least those were somewhat stocked. The small fridge had cheese, eggs, bread. Olives, even a bottle of white wine. Leo would be able to work his usual magic.

“Morning.”

Sirius closed the fridge. Finn came out of the bedroom in a thick sweatshirt and pajama pants, rubbing his arms.

“Hey,” Sirius said. He’d feel better if Finn was dressed and wearing shoes, ready to ditch at a moment’s notice.

“Is there heat we can turn on?”

“No heat,” Sirius said, but took a second cup down from the sparse hooks on the wall. “Sorry. Space heater by the couch.”

“Ah,” Finn said.

“Are those Logan’s?”

Finn looked up from where he was standing curled in on himself in front of the rumbling, ancient looking heater. “What?”

“Your clothes.”

Finn brushed his fingers over the sweatshirt’s cuff. Turned his nose into the collar, or maybe he was just cold. “Yeah.”

“No coat?” Sirius plucked at his own. “It’ll be in a ball. Zipped up into itself, made small.”

“Um. I’ll look again.”

“Coffee?”

Finn nodded and Sirius poured.

“James isn’t awake yet?” Finn asked.

“He’s on watch.” Sirius didn’t think it would help anything if he told Finn they’d both been taking shifts throughout the night. Did Finn really think they would all just fall asleep? He had to keep reminding himself that Logan kept most of this life away from him, showing him only the happier aftermaths of long, well-deserved vacations together.

“Milk’s in the fridge if you take it,” Sirius said.

“That’s fine.” Finn held his mug between both hands. Logan’s sweatshirt fit him well. Where Finn rose above him in height, Logan made up in the width of his shoulders. It had no logo, nothing someone could identify anything by. Logan had said Finn once gifted him one of his own university sweatshirts to bring in his go-bag, and Logan had had to explain that he would never wear anything while working that could lead someone back to Finn.

I hate telling him the bad parts, Logan had said softly to Sirius one night when they had been in New York. Logan had been particularly mournful, having visited the city the most to see Finn’s family. I hate seeing how he tries not to show how much it scares him.

“What now?” Finn asked. “I mean…how do we do this? How do we start?”

Well first, please put some fucking shoes on. “Now we wait.”

“For what?”

“Leo.”

“Why didn’t he travel with you?”

Sirius sighed. He had not gotten enough sleep for this. “Sometimes that’s how it works. Leo’s on our team, but he’s not the same kind of agent as I am, or James.”

“Or Remus and Lo?”

Lo. God, it had been a long time since Sirius had heard Finn call him that. He really, really hoped that Finn hadn’t set his heart on anything changing. At least not all of it. Sirius had seen those shots. He’d seen Remus drop. He’d seen Logan’s head snap back with the force of a bullet. He’d seen them both go down. He’d seen them dragged into the boat off the Sounion beaches where their bodies had been, most likely, sent to the seafloor.

“Right,” Sirius said. “So, he’s on our team but he has other work, and it’s not always fieldwork like us.”

Finn seemed to mull this over for a moment. “So, does that mean he’s never in as much danger?”

Sirius took a long drink of his coffee. He held the thick graininess beneath his tongue before swallowing. “No. Not really. He can be tracked through cyber means as well as we could be followed on foot.”

“Oh.”

Sirius heard the door open and James’ two note whistle, letting him know it was just him.

“Speaking of, you should get dressed. You never know when we’ll have to go and bad guys don’t wait for laces.”

Finn blinked. “I—oh. Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” James’ voice came as he walked into the kitchen. “Sirius is a worry-wart.”

“We’re here to track two agents who we saw get shot in the back.”

Sirius saw Finn shiver, curling closer to his cup.

“Okay, fair,” James said. “Leo’s arriving, saw him down the road. Coffee?”

“Yeah.”

James sniffed. “No tea?”

“If you wanted your perfectly made tea every day you should’ve gotten a desk job.”

James rolled his eyes and accepted a cup. “Is there milk in this joint, at least?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Fridge.” He pushed up from where he was leaning against the counter. “I could…make something. Eggs or—”

James raised his eyebrows as he poured milk into his cup. “Did you not hear me say Leo’s arriving? Why eat an apple seed when you could wait for the apple?”

Sirius snorted into his cup, and the door opened again. Two notes, exactly the same as James’.

“Hi,” Leo said. “I—” His eyes widened when he saw Finn.

“Hi,” Finn said. He looked sheepish, but he set his coffee cup down and faced Leo. “Hi.”

Leo looked properly spooked in Sirius’ opinion. Then again, James and Sirius had a quiet bet between them that Leo had quite the crush on Logan. Maybe, if they found him, Leo had been hoping for some time away from Finn. It can’t be all too fun to be crushing on a married man, James had said once. Let him have his fun. It’s harmless.

“What…” Leo set his bag down with a plomp. It was nearly identical to Sirius’ own—Dark, waterproof and unremarkable. “What are you doing here?”

Before Finn, or any of them, could even answer, Leo was striding forward and pulling Finn into a tight hug. Oh God, he heard Leo say under his breath and tucked his nose briefly into Finn’s neck.

Sirius and James looked at each other.

“I need to know if…” Finn’s voice wavered, chin on Leo’s shoulder. Leo didn’t need him to finish. It must be raining lightly, having just started because James was dry. Leo’s blond hair had little jewels of drops on the curls. Finn turned his face into them a little, water transferring in dew drops onto his cheek.

Leo pulled back and took Finn’s shoulders in his large hands. Leo rubbed his arm once, up and down. “Have you eaten?”

Sirius left them to it. Leo had whipped up buttery eggs and even heated some of the milk to combat James’ woeful coffee pleas. Leo would get set up, he’d share a room with Finn, and so he could answer the bulk of Finn’s questions for a while. They did spend more time together, after all. Sirius pulled his hat more firmly over his ears and made sure the door locked behind him.

It was a gray day, but the Christmas lights around every streetlamp broke through some of the gloom. The other people about the streets seemed untouched by it. It looked like a normal Saturday. The markets were out—soft breads and walnut cookies coated in powder sugar. Winter greens and roots, hot spiced drinks. Vendors calling back and forth to each other and little kids being chased between legs by their older siblings. Sirius tried to imagine it. Walking outside without his gun. Going shopping while holding someone’s hand.

He hadn’t known where he was going until he arrived, but there the table was. The cafe looked exactly the same. Two old couples at some of the tables outside, bundled in their coats and scarves and sipping espresso. A waiter nodded him into the third of the tables. Their table. Sirius sat down with a heart beating hard.

“Thank you,” Sirius said in Greek.

“Sir?”

“Espresso.”

“Very good.”

The marble top was stained the same—the two interlocking coffee rings. Those had been in front of Remus last time, which meant he was in Remus’ chair. The thought sent a prickle up his neck. Two days before he had died. How had they been sitting here, laughing, just two days before—well, not died. God, he wasn’t dead, he was somewhere in this city.

“Sir,” the waiter said. An espresso cup—tiny and thin—the creamy surface so perfectly serene. Sirius would leave the money on the table, just as the couple leaving did. This was the part that came with training. Don’t stand out. Don’t give yourself away by asking for the check or getting up and going inside. You sit, you drink, you talk, and you leave.

Of course, him and Remus had done much more than that. It had been eight at night, not eight in the morning, and the espresso had been Negronis. Remus had already been flushed by the heat, but the gin had given his smile a whole new light.

He’d leaned on his palm, cold rocks glass pressed against his cheek. “This heat. Makes you want to jump in the ocean, huh?”

They hadn’t. Not quite. But they’d paid for their drinks and picked up a chilled bottle of white wine instead. Sat on the steps of a church and laughed into each other’s shoulders. Remus’ mouth had brushed his neck at one point and Sirius knew Remus had felt his breathing change.

Remus had tucked a dark strand of Sirius’ hair behind his ear. “It’s nice to see you let loose a little.”

“Am I really as uptight as everyone says?”

Remus had just poured Sirius another inch of wine. “No. But usually when we give ourselves a day off while on a job, you act all guilty. Instead, you’re here laughing with me.”

Sirius should have kissed him that night. He really could have. Remus had looked right at his mouth.

Sirius had expected a kiss maybe. Instead, Remus had looked back at him and said. Sometimes I wonder what we’re doing. Sirius had thought he meant them, but then Remus had said, Who we’re doing it for.

Sirius tilted back his head to get the dregs of his coffee, eyes scanning the street, and he nearly dropped the cup. He sat up straight and set the cup on its saucer hard.

“Remus,” he whispered. He only just remembered to fish out money, but he didn’t take his spot off of where the flash of familiar blond-brown hair had disappeared.

It was just like him, and it did mean something was wrong. To show his face after all this time, luring Sirius back here, and then knowing that he’d retrace their steps, retrace himself back to that night.

Remus had looked right at his mouth. “We shouldn’t…I—Sirius, I want—We shouldn’t.”

Another glimpse. Shoulders, grey t-shirt. Another turned corner, and Sirius couldn’t help it anymore. He broke into a run. The markets weren’t as picturesque while trying to run through them. He dodged around families, locked-hands and stuffed grocery bags with green carrot tops spilling out. The person—Remus?—had yet to turn around. It was like he was leading him somewhere.

He should radio. He should tell James. He caught himself against the edge of a building as he turned a corner. It couldn’t have been more than a few moments after—after whoever this was, after whatever trick Sirius was playing on himself.

But nothing. Gone. The buildings dead-ended but he had been sure he saw him. Sirius was panting, sweating in his jacket and hat.

“Remus,” he whispered. He looked behind him, back the way he’d come, then at the wall. It had a gate on it, but Sirius couldn’t get the chains off of it with even the hardest tug. Remus wouldn’t have been able to get through and lock back up, not in the time it took Sirius to catch up.

Sirius leaned against the gate and closed his eyes. “Jesus.” He just wanted to find him. That was all. He just wanted to find him.

He was alive. Alive, alive, alive.

#Christmas Eve will find me lumosinlove #winterfic 2023 lumosinlove #wolfstar #spy au #finnlo #sunfish #lionfish

87 notes · View notes

fushipurro · 3 days

Text

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 8 - Simplicity

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: light angst, dare i say: tooth-rotting fluff

☆ Word Count: 5.8k

With the end of Megumi’s birthday comes Christmas, and you’re set to host it with the Fushiguro family.

It was actually you’re idea, believe it or not. Partially because Toji has nothing in the form of festive décor, and even if he wanted to go out now for some, every shelf in each store has already been wiped clean.

The other reason is your desire to help. Taking care of three kids as a single father is no joke, and it’s a way to repay his kindness towards you.

Following Megumi’s big day, you dug out all the boxes hoarding dust in the back of your closest. It’s not much besides a tree, lights, and various pieces, but it’ll have to do. You have plenty of other ideas in mind to spread the holiday cheer, something you yourself haven’t felt in the years prior to now.

On the eve of the holiday, you invited the kids over for one of your favorite seasonal activities ─ baking sugar cookies.

Regardless of it being the night before Christmas, Toji still has to head in to work later in the evening and could use some time to himself to rest.

You prepared the dough ahead of time, hopefully making today run smoothly. All the kids will need to do is cut shapes and put icing on the cookies, making for a much easier cleanup. Or so you hope.

Your already small kitchen is made worse with you, three kids, and a cat filling the space, but nothing you can’t handle.

“Who wants to play a game?” you ask with some popsicle sticks in hand.

Mai and Megumi cheer in unison, while Maki’s remains stoic, but curious.

The game will decide the order of which the children will have a turn with the dough, helping alleviate any stepping of toes from the lack of room. Each stick has a number written on the end, and all they have to do is pick at random to keep things fair.

Mai will be getting the first shot, followed by Maki, and Megumi last.

You give a quick demonstration on rolling the dough, that way if they want to try, they can when it’s their turn. Mai is eager, with restless hands tapping the countertop. Maki watches intently from the other side of the counter, while Megumi is just happy to have Tsumiki around his feet.

“Now just take one of these… and press it into the dough,” you instruct, using one of the many holiday cutouts you have available.

“Can I pick any?” Mai asks, holding a candy cane shape in one hand, and a star in the other.

“Use whichever ones you’d like, sweetie.” You smile, gesturing to everything laid out. From hats to trees, stockings and presents, you have it all for what is likely any of their first times baking. “There’s plenty of dough to go around so I want you all to do whatever makes you happy. These cookies are for you.”

Mai does hers one at a time, choosing only the shapes she likes rather than how her twin intends to do things.

Maki leaves little space in between each of the cutouts, going at it from an optimal approach. While not blatantly smiling, her focused eyes make it clear enough she’s at least trying to have fun.

In the few days you’ve known the twins, Maki’s been the more difficult of the two to crack. Her relation to Toji is uncanny through more than looks and it’s a shock they’re only cousins. You hope with more time spent together with her, that she’ll open up like Megumi has done with you.

While Megumi hasn’t called you mama again since that day, he has been clinging to you more often than usual. Seeing Yuji and Yuki together may have triggered something for Megumi or made him realize he wants a bond like that with you.

You’re hopeful he’ll say it again when he’s ready.

Being a mother wasn’t something you were always able to envision for your future, especially after being told by a dozen doctors it wouldn’t be possible.

You learned early on not to have dreams about it.

Adoption exists and although you’re open to the idea, finding someone that will except you for everything you are proves more than difficult.

Maki finishes her batch, stepping away from the counter. Megumi grabs at the hem of your shirt in order to get your attention. “My turn?”

“It is, are you ready?” He nods, and you pick him up and onto the stool so he’s able to reach the dough.

As soon as his eyes land on the reindeer cutout, he goes right for it without hesitation. Megumi has some difficulty pressing the cutout down due to his arms not fully able to reach.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Maki chides, a closed fist propping her head up on the counter.

“Am not,” he refutes, but Maki starts pointing to his unintentional error.

“Look, you’re missing a leg and that spot’s too thin.”

Megumi pouts. “So?”

As he shakes his hand from side to side to separate the shape from the rest of the dough, he ends up losing more than just a leg in the process.

“It’s messed up,” Maki bluntly points out, and it’s evident Megumi’s becoming frustrated.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you intervene before things get worse.

What even is the right way to scold someone else’s child? You end up going for a light approach just to be safe, hoping it works out.

“Look here.” You take the botched reindeer into your hands with the rest of the dough, rolling it back into a ball. With the rolling pin in your hands this time, you stretch the dough out properly, ensuring all sides are an even size. “If you make a mistake, we can always fix it. It’s no trouble at all.”

Megumi makes another attempt, looking to you for approval before pushing the cutter down. This time he manages to get a proper shape out of it, his eyes lighting up with joy that washes all the stress away.

“Good job!” you say while clapping, forgetting that your hands are coated in flour. It sends a cloud of white dust right into your face, sticking to your hair. The three start laughing and then trying to mimic you for fun.

So much for mess free baking, but who cares so long as they get to enjoy themselves.

Once the kids all get the hang of what to do, the rest runs smooth and easy. Megumi does however insist that his cookies must be reindeer shaped. The next time you do this with him, you’re going to have to look into some more animal cutouts.

The fact you’re even thinking about a second Christmas with the Fushiguros brings a warm feeling to your heart.

“Alright Maki, this will be the last batch, so make it count,” you tell her, and she’s silent for a moment. You almost believe she’s having trouble deciding what shape to use which is odd given how confident she was earlier.

She suddenly declares, “Megumi can have my turn.”

“Really?” He replies, shocked by her words. It surprises even you, but you guess it’s her way of apologizing.

Maki nods her head, stepping away from the counter to make room for Megumi.

“That’s very kind of you, Maki.” You smile to her, causing a rosy tint to appear on her cheeks. “Now ’Gumi, what do we say?”

“Thank you, Maki!”

Instead of going for the reindeer as expected, he chooses a gingerbread man. Not only that, but Megumi then starts reaching for Maki’s hand.

“Together.”

“You want me to help?” she questions, looking as shocked as he did just seconds ago. Megumi nods his head, further deepening her blush. “F-fine! But only ‘cause it was my turn before.”

You both know that’s not true.

With the last of the cookies ready to go in the oven, you help clean off all their tiny hands before sending them off to the couch with some snacks as a reward for their hard work.

To pass the time until the next step of this process, they decide on watching Santa Buddies first and foremost, leaving you to handle all the oven work. The movie gives you plenty of time to make sure everything’s perfect and cleaned up.

When all is said and done, and the credits are rolling, you bring the kids back into the kitchen for the best part of this whole thing ─ decorating.

You’ve already laid out several bowls filled with a combination of powdered sugar and milk, creating the perfect icing. All that’s left now is for each of the kids to add drops of food coloring, the task you’ve always enjoyed the most as an artist.

They each have their own plate of cookies to decorate, evenly distributed so no competition can come of it. It doesn’t stop them from trying to make the best decorated cookie.

Maki shoots for whatever works, regardless of whether that means Santa gets a blue hat instead of red. Mai’s cookies are color coordinated as intended, and surprisingly is kept within clean edges.

As for Megumi well… he’s having fun, that’s for sure. His reindeer appear straight out of My Little Pony with rainbows or a variety of patterns, some even having Rudolph’s red nose.

Everything except for the gingerbread shapes he’s refusing anyone to see until he’s done.

In the meantime, you’re pulled away from the group at the sound of your door, opening it to an interesting sight.

“Toji? Or should I say Santa?” you tease.

He enters your home wearing the signature hat on top of his usual gray sweatpants, black shirt combo.

“Ho, ho.” He deadpans, playfully shaking his head with a small smile. Toji walks over to the kids, peering over their shoulders. “What do we have here?”

“No peeking!” Megumi shouts at his father while trying to cover his work in progress.

“Okay, okay, sheesh.” Toji raises his hands defensively, backing off. He then turns to you, leaning against your fridge with arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve been havin’ fun.” He gestures to your hands. “Who’d you murder without me?”

It’s only then you realize how stained your hands are in red. “Oh,” you chuckle, “We got a bit carried away with the food coloring is all.”

Toji hums, unconvinced. “Is that so? Well, you better hope I don’t see your name come up on the naughty list then.” He winks.

“Hey, I’m more than happy to be given rocks as gifts ─ even coal! I’m not picky.”

“Sweetheart, you deserve diamonds, not coal,” he scoffs, putting you at a loss for words.

If one were to put rose or cherry quartz next to your face, they wouldn’t find a difference between the two.

Toji yawns, cracking his neck. “Thanks for doing all this so I could sleep, I appreciate it.” He rolls his shoulders and you’re nearly mesmerized by muscles of his arms flexing. A few more pops sound from his back.

“Y-yeah, no worries.” You swallow, realizing your throat’s gone dry. “I’m happy to help.”

“They’ve been good for you, I hope?” Toji asks, swiping one of the cookies from Maki’s plate. She doesn’t say anything in response except for a harsh glare he ignores.

Earlier issues aside, you have no complaints. Some kids would’ve turned your kitchen into a winter wonderland with flour or start a food fight with dough, but not these three.

“The best,” you reply, your words making him gleam.

Toji takes a bite of the cookie, and his eyes widen as he chews. “These are good,” he says in between bites. “What’d you put in them, crack?” You stare at him, appalled for having no filter, even in front of children.

“No, we put love in them,” Megumi tells him, using the phrase you said earlier when discussing the magic of baking.

“Did you now?” Toji smirks, side-eyeing you.

“It’s better than what you’re suggesting I’m feeding these kids.” You know he’s only teasing in his attempt to compliment you, but you’ve gotten comfortable joking back at him like this.

“You gotta admit, they’re equally addicting,” he counters, yet, he does have a point.

For better or worse, love makes you dependent, igniting a deeper craving for more. Insatiable, and your favorite drug. There is no better high than the one you get from someone who you deem your everything in life.

“Done!” Megumi cheers, raising his arms joyfully.

You and Toji come up from behind him, and the twins at either side. There’s a total of five gingerbread men lined up, each taking after everyone in the room. One of the reindeer even resembles Tsumiki in a way, if she were a colorful cervine.

He used green icing to distinguish Maki and Mai by their hair, and somehow got a darker shade when you weren’t looking for Toji and his own gingerbread hair. Their eyes are each their respective colors of green and blue, something you wonder is a trait Megumi got from his mother.

The final cookie then resembles you, from your hair to your eyes, and even the color of clothes you have on.

“Aww, ‘Gumi, these are so cute!” You hug the boy, and his expression turns bashful. “They’re so pretty, I don’t know how I’m gonna eat them now.”

His voice comes at a whisper, “I made family.”

Forget your infatuation with Toji, Megumi has stolen your heart.

“Nice work, Megs,” Toji praises, ruffling his hair before doing the same to the twins. “You too, girls.” They both look happy as well, with a rare, subtle smile appearing on Maki’s face.

When you think about all the cartoons you’ve watched as a child with episodes about Christmas lasting forever and what not, you can’t blame those who want such things.

You love this family, and if every day could feel like today, then maybe it’s worth living to the next.

The rest of the evening is spent gathered around the TV to enjoy another holiday classic, The Nightmare Before Christmas. The fresh sugar cookies taste better than you remembered and made for an excellent treat while waiting on dinner, something else you all enjoy together.

Like family.

The next morning, Megumi is up bright and early knocking on your door, Toji and the twins right behind him.

“Merry Christmas!” they greet in unison, with Megumi running up to hug you.

“Come in, come in!” You wave your hand while parting your door. “I just finished making breakfast.”

Truth be told, you were up early for once in preparation. It was hard to sleep last night, almost like you were a child again with your outfit of the day folded at the foot of your bed, ready to go.

For breakfast, you went with the tradition of cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, monkey bread, fruit, and whatever else you thought would be good. It seems like a lot, but it all comes together quickly and is eaten just as fast by kids who want to unwrap presents already.

You help get the kids seated, filling their plates as well as Toji’s all nice and full, with plenty of extras. He’s off putting gifts below your tree while you do so. With Tsumiki around, it’s a miracle it’s still standing despite her best efforts at making it her designated cat tower.

Toji returns to the table, eyeing everyone’s suspiciously full plates in comparison to yours. “Is that gonna be enough for you?” Toji asks, sitting down.

“Oh, this is plenty,” you tell him dismissively. Even if it’s not, you want to make sure everyone else gets their fill, prioritizing their needs over yours.

“Please, that’s too little.” Toji holds his plate over yours, brushing some of the food off.

“You don’t have to, I’m fine, I promise!” you say, but he doesn’t let up until you have a larger portion than him.

“Eat what you can, I can always finish what’s left.” His words are reassuring, but you hope he’s not trying to hold back for your sake. Ironic.

You mutter your thanks as you begin eating. You’re happy to see the kids all excited ─ even Maki beneath her stoic expression.

Toji on the other hand… well, you know that look of exhaustion anywhere.

It’s likely given his graveyard hours that he hasn’t had a moment of rest since the day prior but is pushing through unbothered.

Three kids are no joke. It’s a lot to shoulder, even with your help. It’s admirable how self-sacrificing he can be for his family, and you hope he knows how good a father he is.

You end up purposely leaving extras on your plate for him.

After breakfast, you all gather into the living room for the main event. Toji takes up his usual spot in the corner on the sofa, and Tsumiki immediately gets up to join him on his lap, purring loud enough for everyone to hear.

“She really likes you, ya know,” you say to him while handing the kids some presents.

Tsumiki trills when he scratches the top of her head. “More than you?” he teases with a grin to match.

“Oh please, let’s not go that far.” You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m practically her mother, she’ll always be my little girl.”

“Whatever you say Ma, but this” ─ Toji points a finger down at your cat ─ “is pretty convincin’ to me,” he chuckles.

There’s hardly a second in between for you to register the new nickname before the kids are gasping at their presents.

“You got me a camera!?” Mai squeals with joy, turning the box over onto all its sides to see. You had gifted her a polaroid in purple ─ her favorite color ─ figuring she’d enjoy it for all her modeling and acting dreams.

Maki took some more thought before you eventually settled on a skateboard. Another commonality between her and Toji is their shared love for athletics, so rather than getting her a ball or something she’d need a whole setup for, she can take this one on the go wherever.

You found one that features a red dragon painted across the deck with clouds surrounding the beast. The grip tape has some scales cut out to match the aesthetic, with black wheels to tie it all in. The overall style is something straight out of Hokusai’s famed works.

She holds the board up to the light to get a better look, and a toothy smile appears on her face. “Awesome…” she mutters.

For Megumi, you got him new games for his equally new console. All of which feature animals one way or another, with titles such as Okami or World of Zoo. Anything to fuel his passion for animals.

You won’t lie, none of these gifts were cheap and you’ll be begging Kento for more work soon but seeing the kids without a care in the world make it worth every penny.

Near the end of all the presents, you pull out the last gift tucked neatly back behind the tree. It’s wrapped in the same paper as all the rest ─ cats and dogs with Santa hats and other festive items ─ but there’s no name written anywhere.

“Who’s this for?” you ask Toji, raising the box up for him to see. Megumi’s eyes go wide as if he just remembered something.

“It’s for you,” he starts, “And before you say anything, Megs helped me pick it out.” Toji knew without guessing you were already planning your protest in your head. You can’t say refuse now if Megumi has some involvement.

You may have grown to not expect gifts or the like, but it certainly feels nice when you do receive something for once; that someone cares enough to bother getting you something.

“Did you now?” you muse, looking to the boy now appearing shy after being called out by his father.

You undo the glittery bow and the wrapping paper that follows. Beneath it is a velvet lined box containing a necklace in your go-to metal. It’s the perfect length, dainty as well ─ fashioned with numerous dangling stars that catch the light like a prism would.

“This is beautiful, guys… seriously, thank you both.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you think you may just start crying.

Megumi must’ve noticed, because he gets right up and stands in front of you. “Do you like it?” He’s scared you’ll say no because why else would your eyes be glossed over?

“Like it? Sweetie, I love it!” You pull him into a tight hug. Megumi cranes his neck around like an owl to Toji who’s beaming at him with a look of pride.

The necklace is a gift from them to you, a reminder of their presence in your life. You can look up at the night sky all you want, but now you know there are stars down here if you only look to your side.

“Come here, I’ll put it on you.” Toji beckons you with the curl of his finger.

You stand up from your spot on the floor, ruffling Megumi’s hair on your way to Toji’s side. You hold your hair up and off to the side for him, and even though you know it’s coming, you can’t help but react to his touch.

His fingers glide around your throat causing a sharp intake of air. He clasps the metal right over a sweet spot that ignites goosebumps down your neck. His warm breath fans your nape, sending that heat straight to your core.

“Turn around, let’s see.”

You’re even closer to Toji than you expected, causing your heartbeat to quicken like reindeer dancing on the rooftop.

His eyes drift from your necklace ─ that piece of him to you ─ and up to your still glistening eyes that seem to twinkle with emotion. When they move to settle back down, they stop over your lips. You don’t even realize you’ve parted them.

A silent invitation that expresses your burning desire.

You look to his and it’s as if you’re now bound by a force similar to gravity, like binary stars in the shape of hearts. All you can do is let yourself be pulled in.

“Snow!” Megumi’s shout interrupts the near stellar collision. He comes bounding between you both, ignorant to what just interrupted.

You and Toji separate, a feeling of embarrassment washing over you.

“Can we play outside, please?” Megumi asks with the best puppy dog eyes he’s able to muster.

And how can you say no to that?

Toji brings a hand up to his neck and exhales. “Only if you bundle up, I don’t need sick kids running around.”

All they needed to hear were the first few words before they’re off to the front door in a hurry. Toji gets up to follow, sparing a glance over his shoulder. “You coming?”

You feel his gaze all over yourself, leaving fire in its wake. You’re avoiding his face, too caught up in your own world.

You almost kissed.

It would’ve been your first real kiss with someone you admire too. You can’t help but feel disappointed.

Toji clears his throat to get your attention again.

“Oh ─ yeah, I’ll go and get ready now!” you tell him, and he makes an amused snort before leaving.

Looking around in his absence, you already miss the noise. It blurs any thoughts you might have in your mind, keeping you grounded in yourself. You’re going to be kept busy either way by the mess of things; torn paper all over the floor, dishes to clean… but that’s a task for later.

When was the last time you played in the snow without a care?

It’s Christmas. Have some fun.

You do still dump any trash Tsumiki could get into. No need for any more vet visits.

Toji and the kids are all back at your door minutes later, their eagerness as evident as rainbows cutting across blue skies with the promise of gold. A rare sight in the wintery season.

But there’s one more gift before you all head out into the cold.

“Do you mind closing your eyes for one second?” Your question posed towards Toji.

He quirks his brow but still does as you ask. “What’s this about?”

“You’ll see,” you reply, shifting your hands to give him his gift. “Alright, you can open them now.”

Toji could feel you place something around his neck, tying it into place with a gentle touch. He lifts his hands up to inspect, looking down at the simple, yet quality wool scarf.

It holds no defining pattern in the threading, instead presenting a solid shade of green. The hue is close to what you’d see on forest leaves bathed in shadows under the moon. Like two pools of jade, with onyx in the center.

His eyes.

“Can’t have you catching a cold either out there,” you chuckle, admittedly with a nervous undertone.

Shopping for kids is easy when the possibilities are seemingly endless as they grow in life. For adults, it’s all about finding smaller, more meaningful gifts they can appreciate day-to-day.

And he loves yours.

You know this when Toji’s arms wrap around your body, bringing you flush against his chest. His heartbeat throbs like yours did earlier ─ hooves pounding on snowy tiles. You close your eyes to embrace the feeling of his warmth. If this took place outside, you’d surely find a perfect circle melted in the snow around your shared forms.

“Thank you,” he says; simple, like the scarf, but the thought behind both express more than what can be made into words.

It’s all you need.

The end of the rainbow may as well be at your feet.

Several more snow days follow.

Several more days of peace beneath skies painted in violet and amber. The golden hues of the setting sun bring the snow alive ─ like fire encased by an endless glacier as far as the eye can see.

Toji wears the scarf every time he goes outside, be it work or play. Exhaustion weighs heavier on his features as the days go on, though he refuses to let it show.

With Megumi and the twins around, you eventually find out he’s been sleeping on the couch so the three can share the bed all night. It is a one-bedroom apartment after all.

It wasn’t so much a problem when Megumi was away in school during the times Toji needed to sleep, but Megumi being home each day now on holiday and Toji having to care for two more on top is taking its toll.

He would never vocalize this discomfort, not wanting to bring worry to the kids. It only makes you want help him more to lighten the burden off his shoulders.

It’s what friends do; you tell him whenever he tries to shy away and claim he’s fine. It’s exactly what you would do too if you were in his place.

A voice in your mind tells you that it’s playing house at best, the desire for something deeper. It’s a relishing feeling to be relied on by your crush, and you crave the comfort it brings.

“Aren’t you up early?” Toji says in lieu of a greeting. It’s another day of you offering your free time. The only difference is that today is a special day.

His special day.

“Kids are still sleeping, but you’re welcome to hang out,” he says with a gruff voice, yawning after.

You think sleep is a nice look for him, if only under better circumstances.

“I can watch them for you if you have any plans today,” you tell him.

Be it friends or a special someone, none of it matters at the end of the day if you can still be something to him.

Something is better than nothing, despite the close call of a kiss.

It doesn’t feel real that it almost happened. You hope it wasn’t a visage crafted through heart-shaped eyes, but insecurities are ever present in your mind.

Either way, Toji chose to stay here with you.

He could’ve spent his day catching up on his sleep while you handled everything, but instead he followed you around like a stray cat would. Though in the case of Toji, a panther makes for a better comparison.

Large, fierce, and skilled in many ways but with a soft spot at their core others tend to forget.

Take tigers for example. If a mother were to pass away early, a cub’s father will step in to raise them. Some do it from afar, offering silent protection from harm, or leading their young to meals. In some cases, they remain glued at the hip, spending day and night till their cub is of age.

You wonder if raven-haired jaguars might act the same, but isn’t it obvious?

As tired as he was, he never let it get in the way. The five of you spent some time playing outside, where Toji became a one-man army in a snowball fight against you and the kids. With a smirk plastered on his face, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Victory was a futile effort, but the kids tried again and again until their energy drained away. Toji let them win in the end, and they were quick happy to bury him in snowballs after. Luckily, they all chose to go to bed early after dinner, giving you and Toji some time for yourself before his next shift.

What better time to celebrate?

You crept towards the sofa with a cupcake in hand. You thought a sheet cake might’ve been too much, so you went with a more simple treat. With Toji being a fan of chocolate flavors, you decided to make one special with chocolate for the base, icing, and even some frozen bark wedged on top around the solely lit green candle at the center.

“Happy Birthday, Toji.”

Your necklace dances when you come into view, the amber reflections of the flames catching his eye. It’s almost enough for him to forget that he’s the star of this show when a galaxy stands before him.

His silence has you questioning whether you misjudged his preferences. “If you don’t like the flavor, I’ve made plenty more so please–“

“It’s perfect,” he says, hands engulfing your own to accept the offering. You find it hard to pull away, his warmth easily outshining the candle.

You sit at his side, and with one quick huff, the flame is gone.

“Did you even make a wish?” you tease.

“Don’t need to,” he says, mirth flickering across his features. His eyes whisper a thousand unspoken words.

Toji barely can get a bite out of the cupcake before you’re pushing a present towards him to take. “What’s this?” he asks, placing the dessert down.

You hand him a sleek black box, topped with a solid green bow. “Open it and see.”

With only nine days to prep for his birthday, finding something last minute proved to be a challenge. It was one you were more than willing to undergo just to see him smile.

The initial curiosity turns to surprise, then crests into a soft look of joy. Gentle; genuine.

The box contains a silver chain leading down to a one-of-a-kind piece of malachite encircled by the same sterling metal. A pool of green with midnight flecks. Leaves loved by moonlight.

“Do you like it?” Worry laces your words as you wait for his approval.

He holds the box out for you to take. “Put it on for me and let’s see.”

You free the chain, bringing it up around his neck. The stone has some weight to it ─ a reminder of its presence and meaning as it hangs close to his heart.

“Well?” Toji turns to face you again, one eyebrow raised in anticipation.

“It’s perfect,” you say, mimicking his words. Simple, but only at its surface.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He smiles.

Your eyes raise from the gem to that smile. There’s no arrogance or amusement, only a gentle tug of adoration. The tethers of an unseen force pull at you again.

Golden hues spill into the room ─ more vibrant than before ─ but easily eclipsed by his body before you.

It’s perfect, for what other light could you possibly desire? Violet shadows are as much his color as the greenery of trees on a midnight walk. If you have him by your side, you’ll never lose your way in the dark.

“Can I?” he asks quietly, one hand smoothing along your jaw. You find yourself leaning his touch, nodding against his palm.

Toji moves with confidence ─ hunger even, when his lips connect with yours. A stellar collision, with no others stars to stop its fate.

Sweetness coats his lips from the residual chocolate, his taste better than any dessert. It ignites a sensation deep in your body that leaves you craving more. An insatiable thirst, and all you needed was one to get you hooked.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but lean forward to follow, missing that lifeline of affection already. Toji’s laugh rumbles deeply and thick, like he’s fresh out of bed.

He kisses you again, forcing you backwards until his weight becomes a blanket over you. The burning feeling from before only grows stronger, like wildfire in need of relief but all you truly want is equivalent to fuel.

“Toji–“

His head falls deeply into the side of your neck, and you feel him relax. From the gentle breaths against your skin, you realize that he’s fallen asleep.

A kiss from Prince Charming may wake a sleeping princess, but from you to your knight in shining armor, it offers peace and serenity.

You let him stay like this. A sense of pride filling you that Toji was comfortable enough in the first place to let himself be so vulnerable with you.

Your hand moves through his hair lovingly, in a way one would pet a cat. He sighs in his sleep, arms coiling in a near possessive manner. You think maybe you aren’t alone with your desire for affection.

And before you know it, you’re following after him.

For the first time in countless nights, your thoughts are quiet as could be, silenced by the presence and warmth that clings you better than any blanket could.

When you come to next, it’s only you who remains.

Toji’s nowhere to be seen, his body replaced by a thick throw. It’s heavy ─ securing, but at the same time, it isn’t him.

One of his pillows now props your head up, providing you his scent at the very least. It flows around you in a way that makes you think he hasn’t even left. The smell is comforting, alluring, and all Toji.

On the table next to you is a note weighed down with one green candle, the letter containing an apology for leaving so soon. It’s too bad he had work otherwise he’d still be here, but you’re glad you got to spend this time with him.

Toji may not care for his birthday, deeming it just another day on the calendar of life, but this year was different.

You made certain of that.

☆ Notes: read a tojikuna fic the other day called “in lieu of” (which I highly recommend btw) and was inspired to try and more metaphors to my work. Idk how good they came out cause honestly I question whether they actually make sense or if I’m just talking out of my ass. Dialogue is hard enough as if for me being autistic wondering if it’s stuff others would say or just me/cringe/lacking/etc. That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed this peaceful chapter cause things are gonna ramp up soon :)

Please don’t be afraid to comment or shoot me an ask about anything really, I love to yap!!! it helps keep me going especially when I have thoughts about quitting whenever I’m feeling insecure about my writing

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #jjk au #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x female reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #megumi fushiguro #maki zenin #mai zenin #jujutsu kaisen x reader #model!reader

46 notes · View notes

baratiddyappreciator · 5 months

Text

Christmas with the Baki Cast

So uh, here's the lost post! :D I got all the way down to the beginning of the NSFW short for Chiharu when I did a fucky and lost *everything* up until the HCs for Hanayama. So uh, merry (belated) Christmas! Enjoy y'alls juice! SFW HC's and NSFW short stories (coming soon) This is gonna get posted late because I have to fly back to Canada and won't have internet until late. Natsue and Doppo are being written as a "you are the third" type deal because I love them as a couple too much to break them up.

Baki:

He never really had a proper Christmas since both Yujiro and Emi were very neglectful of him, but he did sometimes have people swing by his place with gifts, which stopped after Emi’s death, so he hasn’t really celebrated since. He does get Musashi some gifts, but dog treats and a toy don’t make proper gifts for him. You’re going to have to show him the ways.

He’ll indulge you in Christmas activities, especially the ones that involve him getting something to eat! Hot chocolate with marshmallows, Christmas cookies, he’s down with all of it. Getting a tree? Yeah! Sounds like fun! He’s not as good decorating, his trees make a big chaotic mess every time he tries to decorate, so you’ll have to help him, or embrace the chaos.

Take him skating and watch the great and powerful Baki Hanma fall flat on his ass several times. He’s strong, graceful, agile and he has pretty good balance, but he’s never been skating before and he has no idea how to. You’ll have to drag him over to the boards and show him how. Once he gets the hang of it he’s not too bad, but he has no idea how to stop even though you’ve showed him five times, so he’ll just slam into the boards or fall on his ass.

He does try to behave about Christmas gifts, but he doesn’t always succeed. The man is determined to get a peek at what you got him, since all of his gifts would be dropped off on Christmas eve. That was for a reason. You’ll need to get dummy boxes so he gives up on looking for his actual gifts. As to him giving you gifts, he goes a bit all-out. Careful what you mention wanting around him, because he will get it for you with no regard for how much he has saved up in his inheritance (a lot) and you won’t be able to put it all away.

He’s actually really good about stockings though! You can fill his stocking with just about anything and he’d be absolutely delighted to have it! Snacks, knick-knacks, practical stuff, he loves it all because it’s from you. On his end though, your entire stocking will be full of snacks and tinier gifts he couldn’t bother to wrap (he sucks at it).

Chocolate advent calendars are a win with him, but he’ll only go along with them for a few days before he tears the whole thing open in the middle of the night while you’re alseep. You’ll notice evidence of his crimes (missing calendar, little pieces of cardboard he didn’t see) in the morning when you wake up. He’s both very sorry and not sorry. Yours is safe though, he promises not to touch it.

Kozue:

For the longest time it was just her and her mother for Christmas and they didn’t really celebrate it that intensely, but now that she has you she has an excuse to go all-out. You’ll walk to her house one day and discover that the entire thing has been shot with a Christmas canon. There are lights and decorations everywhere, and it’s glorious. Inside isn’t much better, her poor mother has to accept the fact that Kozue is just going to take over their shared living space temporarily.

She loves the more low-key Christmas activities, like sitting curled up on the couch and drinking hot cocoa or eggnog, but she’s not opposed to going out and sledding down a hill or building a snowman (weather permitting). As long as she’s spending time with you, she’s perfectly happy! Just don’t make her watch those Hallmark Christmas movies unless you’re both hatewatching.

She’s pretty good on the ice! Not some godess or something, but still, pretty good! She’ll be glued to your side for most of the time, snuggling as you two skate around or holding your hand, but she will take off at some point to do a few laps around the rink to get the energy out. It’s like when cats get zoomies, just taking off at full speed, zipping around and then returning for cuddles when they’re done.

She does actually behave about her gifts! She’ll be perfectly fine with you leaving her gifts beneath her tree at home, won’t even think about peeking until maybe Christmas eve. This being said, all of your gifts are wrapped by her mother, because Kozue is helpless when it comes to wrapping things up. She can put them in a gift bag no problem, but actually wrapping? Can’t do it. She’ll try for one or two and you can tell which ones she did. Her gifts are very thoughtful, so there aren’t usually many unless there are a lot of smaller things.

She loves stocking stuffers because she also doesn’t have to wrap those. She’ll have a stocking for you hanging on her door, and she’ll put a little gift inside it every day leading up to Christmas. A lot of her gifts are either practical or knick-knacks she saw that reminded her of you. As for what to get her for stocking stuffers, anything practical is greatly appreciated! She’d adore you for giving her socks, a scarf and a hat, and you will absolutely see her wearing them for as long as possible.

She’s good with chocolate advent calendars, she’ll do as she’s supposed to do and open a flap every day. Hell she even has a routine so that she can have her chocolate before bed every day and end it on a high note!

Hanayama:

You’d think he’s not into Christmas at all but you go to his house on the first of December and it looks like someone’s been decorating for weeks and not just a matter of hours. He goes all-out for the holidays because he knows that his mother really used to like them, and it’s a tradition he’s going to carry on. He’ll at least wait for you to pick out a tree though.

Speaking of trees, that’s one of his favourite christmas activities if he’s being honest. Going out to pick out a tree is always fun because then he can look at other things at the same time! Efficient? Yes! Fun? Well, he’s enjoying himself, but after the fifteenth stop before even looking at the trees you’re going to get bored. He’ll also enjoy sitting in and drinking, but don’t expect him to carol or watch movies, he can’t stand them. (He already watched all of them at least once when he was little.)

Normall he’s pretty damn sturdy, you’re not going to shake him if you shove him while he’s on stable ground. Put him in a pair of skates on the ice and it’s like he’s a newborn fawn though. You can poke him and he’ll collapse, he has absolutely no balance on skates in general, the ice just makes that worse. He’ll be stiff the entire time and won’t relax until he sees some kid pitch themselves full-force against a sideboard and be completely fine because they went limp. You’re going to have to hold his arm because he’ll obliterate your hand if he wobbles.

He’s so good at ignoring his own Christmas gifts that you’ll have to remind him that they’re there when it’s time to open them. He appreciates them, of course, but there’s literally no temptation for him because he knows he’ll open them eventually. Good luck opening yours though, they’re wrapped so well that you’re going to need a knife to get them open. I’m serious, there are no visible seams that can be felt, the tape is going to be your only hint as to where to pull. It’s impressive.

Stocking stuffers from him are no less frustrating because he’ll wrap those too. Did he get you a candy? It’s wrapped. Socks? Wrapped. Little trinket? Wrapped. Does he do it to watch you suffer? Partially, yeah. Doesn’t matter if it’s already pre-wrapped anyways, he’ll tear that off and wrap it himself. And he does get you a fairly good mix of things! As for what to get him, anything practical is a win in his book, but you can hit him real good with a proper thoughtful gift.

He doesn’t really care about chocolate advent calendars unless they’re dark chocolate. He’ll leave the milk chocolate one for you to eat on Christmas, but dark chocolate? Oh no, you can’t even look at the thing or he’ll glare at you. That’s his, don’t touch it.

Chiharu:

He tries his best with what he’s got, but his Christmas decoration collection is so sad. He’s got old stickers he can put on the window that are so beat up they look like they were in a house fire, he’s got a little snowman he puts outside his front door and another one he likes to put on his kitchen counter, but that’s about it. Please get this man Christmas decoarations he will use them all and love you forever.

He’s down for literally every Christmas activity there is. Caroling? Bet your ass! He’s off-key the entire time but he’s having fun! Sledding? He has no sense of self-preservation, so you’ll have to drag him away from anything legitimately dangerous. Driking cocoa and eggnog? Hell yeah! Especially if there’s booze involved! Getting a tree? Hell yeah! He’ll make room for it in his living room! Decorating said tree is one of the few moments where he’s genuinely calm. He has the most beautiful tree too, it’s just the right mix of cluttered and bare that makes a tree look stunning.

He sucks at skating, even he will tell you that, but he’ll always accept an offer to go! You’ll find him zipping around the ring only to hear him crash straight into the boards. It’s fair to worry that he might break some bones. It’s absolutely because he doesn’t know how to stop by the way. He has no clue how and he’s too scared to ask at this point. Besides! It’s fun! Good luck getting him to stay next to you though. Once he’s gone he’s gone.

He’s just as bad as Baki when it comes to his gifts. He just has to know what you got him! He’ll try his best to sneak a gift, only to find that the most appealing one was a dummy! Surely the others wouldn’t also be dummies, right? You’ll wake up to him begging you for forgiveness because he knows that you’ll notice all of his “gifts” have been opened. He’s surprisingly pretty good at wrapping gifts though! So if he really wants to hide the evidence, he will… For about an hour, then he’s spilling his guts. He can’t lie to his baby!

Stockings aren’t safe either, but they’re safe for longer. Once he cracks open all his gifts, you have about two days before he tries for the stocking. Mess with him, fill his up with coal and he’ll properly give up until Christmas. knick-knackks and snacks are greatly appreciated, but he won’t turn down anything more practical either! Hair care is a quick way to ensure he’s happy for the rest of the day. Your stocking stuffers from him are surprisingly thoughtful and really sweet, he gets you things he knows you’d like and appreciate, a mix of everything is in there.

Advent calendars aren’t safe from him no matter what they contain. Chocolate? Gets eaten. Puzzles? They get assembled over the course of one night. Anything you can think of in an advent calendar just gets ripped out and admired over the course of a few minutes after you give him the calendar in the first place. No patience from this man. Yours is safe for as long as you tell him it’s boring.

Katsumi:

Everyone, meet santa himself. I’m serious when I say that he decorates his appartment and the dojo on the first of December. He comes home dead tired afterwards, but he still does it every year. He puts a lot of effort in, he even organises a Christmas party for Shin-Shin-Kai members and their families, with a hired Santa and everything. The dojo is rarely going to look that festive ever again, and it’s a good way to get the future generation into Karate! Also: Christmas at his parents house is mandatory.

He’s down for all of the activities, and the bonus of getting not one, but two Christmas trees! One for home, and one for the Dojo! He loves decorating them too, if he can get the kids to help him decorate the one at the Dojo it’s even more fun and special, they all absolutely adore him. Katou can make fun of him all he wants, but he knows for a fact that he’ll get more gifts from the kids than anyone else, and Katou can then sit and be jealous in the corner.

He is beauty he is grace, he will not fall on his face. Take him ice skating and see some lingering influences from his time in the circus as a child. If this man knows how to figure skate, then he won’t tell you, but you won’t be able to tell if he does or not because he’s just doing stuff to impress you. He’ll eventually come back to you though, don’t worry! He’ll hold your hand and skate with you, you’ll both wind up with sore cheeks from laughing so hard.

He’s good about his gifts, if only because Natsue would kick his ass if she found out he ruined your fun by peeking at his gifts. Please do let him open one on Christmas eve though, boy is about to combust in anticipation. He’s about average when it comes to wrapping gifts, but he does make a considerable effort to make yours look pretty. And speaking of yours, he gives you some pretty extravagant stuff.

Stocking stuffers are the things he finds hardest to resist. Like he knows there’s goodies in there, they’re easy access, but he’s not going to touch them because he knows you’ll be disappointed in him. He promises he won’t. He doesn’t care what it is, gifts are gifts and he appreciates whatever you get him. He’ll do his best to get you something sweet that you can use.

Advent calendars are used properly with him, he loves the chocolate ones, and he will use each piece of chocolate in a new way. One day it’s in his coffee, the next it’s in his hot chocolate, he’s going to take full advantage of having some. Your advent calendars are safe, but once you pull the chocolate out you’d better immediately eat it or else you’re getting a cup of the exact same stuff he’s drinking.

Jack:

He’s religious, so that aspect of the holiday is somewhat important to him, but in general he doesn’t care about Christmas. He doesn’t really do well with gifts, and he’d rather just spend time with the people he cares about, so his mother, his brother and you, but he’s not going to complain if that doesn’t happen since he didn’t get much of a Christmas when he was younger, so anything you do is probably going to be better than what he had.

He honestly just doesn’t mind going out to do Christmas activities with you, other than caroling. It brings back good memories for him. He’s especially fond of getting some nice hot chocolate or apple cider and going for a walk through the woods, it fulfils his need to just get outside and enjoy the cold weather he’s more used to before the warmth comes back.

Actual god out on the ice. You don’t really expect for such a big man to be able to move that fast or that gracefully, but he does, and it’s both enchanting and terrifying to watch. He’s gone skating a bunch in his past, so this is nothing new. You actually get to see a much softer and more energetic side of him, becase the second he touches the ice he’s gone, but he’ll come back for you after about 10 mintues asking where you went. He’ll be skating ahead of you, backwards so he can look at you. You won’t be able to keep up with him unless you’re holding onto him.

He’s so good about gifts, you can hand him a shopping bag full of his gifts and ask him to go put them in the bedroom so you can wrap them and he’ll do exactly that, no questions asked, no peeking. Just there and back asking if you need help with anything else. As for getting gifts, he’s surprisingly sweet about the stuff he gets for you. He’s not the best at wrapping, not by a long shot, but he tries fairly hard for you.

He honestly forgets about his own stocking until you hand it to him on Christmas, he just sorta stares at it for a second before he opens it. He won’t complain about anything you get him, it’s more than he thinks he deserves, but he does always appreciate more practical things. Snacks are very hit or miss for him. As for what he gets you, it’s a mix of practical and knick-knackk, he’ll take you to go get treats after Christmas when most of it goes on sale, that’s when it’s the best.

He doesn’t really care for or about advent calendars. Chocolate, puzzles, they’re all pretty eh to him. He’d rather save his to give to you later since he doesn’t have a big sweet-tooth. Chocolate is nice, sure, but he doesn’t really care for sweets and candies. Pastries on the other hand, are a guilty pleasure of his, get him a danish or a beaver tail and he’ll melt.

Kosho:

He’s the complete opposite of Kureha in the sense where he does anything for Christmas in the first place. He’ll decorate, he’ll get a bit festive, but he does keep it fairly subtle. Don’t expect him to go even close to the level that say Hanayama or Katsumi go to, but he is a happy medium. He even has a rug he puts by the door to get a bit more openly festive.

He’s open to doing most Christmas activities, sledding is fun, getting drinks and treats is an automatic yes, but caroling won’t happen. Over his dead body. You won’t manage to even bring it up, you get the first sylable out of your mouth and he’s already done listening. He won’t turn down apple cider though. If he does, assume that something is very wrong or that he’s been replaced.

He’s not bad at skating at all! He’s gone a few times when he was younger but it was never really his thing. He’ll stick by you pretty happily, especially if you can have cider on the ice. In that case it’s easily the best thing to do, going to skate, holding hands, and drinking cider. He will be laughing at the kids that fall flat on their faces though.

He’s the worst at gifts, because he’ll mess with the wrapping and you won’t even notice. He gets subtle with it, he’ll slice through the tape, so unless you get patterned tape that you keep hidden expect him to break into all of his gifts. He’s wicked good at wrapping too, so if he messes one up, which isn’t likely, he’ll just re-wrap it and you won’t know until he opens them in front of you and has like no reaction. He’s okay at getting you gifts, if you can tell him what you want he’ll get it for you as long as it’s within his price range, otherwise he might struggle a bit.

He’s bad with stocking suffers too, so unless you rig up his stocking he’ll absolutely get in there and see what he has. He really likes sweets and practical stuff, so mess with him by just filling his stocking with balls of old wrapping paper and he’ll realise that you’re onto him. Your stocking from his is just full of sweets. He expects you to share.

Advent calendars aren’t even safe. He’ll go along with them a day late so he has extra chocolate for Christmas day itself. No he’s not sharing, it’s not his fault that you don’t know the trick. He absolutely learned it from Kureha by the way. They both do this and it’s infuriating.

Kureha:

He’d prefer not to celebrate if he can avoid it, it’s just more cleaning in the long run, though he can’t deny that it is fun to get gifts, he’d rather not deal with the predatory donation seeking and all of the caroling. It annoys him to no end. He works in a hospital, you think he wants to hear any mention of a holiday where people are infamously nasty and usually also drunk? He can tell you horror stories that will permanently ruin the holidays (and some liquors) for you.

You mention getting a real Christmas tree and he shuts you down immediately. He’s not dealing with the mess of the needles and sap. He’s not doing it. He’ll get you as realistic of a fake tree as he can if you really beg, but that’s it. He will at least decorate and have drinks and snacks with you, but don’t expect him to do much else.

He can skate pretty well, he’s fairly graceful out on the ice, but he’ll probably get bored. That’s when you remind him that it’s either skating or going to work, and he’ll shut up real quick. Don’t expect him to jump in and help anyone if they fall. Unless there’s blood, and a lot of it, he’s not saying anything about him being a doctor, and if you don’t want the cold shoulder for a solid three days, you better not say anything either.

Gifts are his favourite part of Christmas! At least, getting them is. He’s kinda bad at giving gifts, but getting gifts is no problem. He’ll try for you, of course. It’s honestly better to just give him a list of things you want and he’ll look into it for you. He’s surprisingly easy to buy for though, he’s not super picky about gifts like one might think, he just likes getting gifts. It means that he was on your mind, and he loves being on your mind. He can wrap gifts pretty well, he’s good with his hands. Has to be, considering he’s a surgeon.

He’s really good about stocking stuffers. He puts a new item in yours every day until Chrismas eve, saving the biggest gift for the last day. It’s a lot of surprisingly sweet gifts and healthy little snacks he thinks you’ll enjoy. He enjoys some healthy snacks and more practical things, but get him a knick-knack and you’ll find it on his desk the next time you pop into his office, or hanging on his wall. Get him something for his nametag and he’ll use it.

He’s the same as Kosho when it comes to his advent calendar, but if he catches you copying him he’ll outright just steal your chocolate unless it’s milk chocolate. He doesn’t mind it as an occasional treat, but he much prefers dark chocolate. If you catch him he’s not even sorry, it’s your fault for trusting him around his favourite sweet treat.

Retsu:

He didn’t really do Christmas when he was younger, it wasn’t super popular at the temple, but now that he’s grown he’s fully embraced that he’s a Christmas adult, and he’s not sorry about it. He’ll decorate nice and subtle, because while he adores Christmas now, he doesn’t really care for an over abundance of decorations, he thinks it’s a bit ignorant to have too many, and too much of one colour gives him a headache.

He’s down to do almost every Christmas activity, but ask him to bake with you and he lights up. The kitchen is where he thrives, and if you give him the recipies and the ingredients, he’ll provide you with some really good food that you can enjoy. He’ll make a lot too, like, too much for just the two of you, so everyone in his appartment building gets a small basket, and he brings whatever is leftover to the underground arena for the other fighters to enjoy before or after their fights. Apple cider is a fast win for him, he adores it, especially if it’s fresh and warm.

He’s fairly graceful on the ice when he still has both legs, but he needs a bit more stability after he loses one. Either way, he’s sticking by your side, holding your hand and overall just having a really nice time doing some relaxed laps around the ring. Unfortunately for you though, you’ll get very warm because he insists that you bundle up.

He’s an angel about gifts. You could wrap his gifts right in front of him and he’ll just keep his eyes on whatever he’s doing, be it also wrapping yours (in which case he keeps the couch between the two of you) or cooking. Hell, he might even just be training a little. Whatever he’s doing, his attention is on that and not what you have in your hands. He likes to gift you things he knows that you’ll use, so expect some clothes and all that fun stuff. But sometimes he just gets you something because he thinks it’s nice and that you’d think it was cool.

Stocking stuffers are his one weakness, he can’t help but want to peek at what’s inside, though he’ll restrain himself. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, and he knows you’d be sad if he did peek. He likes practical things, but he won’t turn down snacks. As for what he gets you, it depends on the kind of year you’ve had. He’s very intuitive with his stocking stuffers.

Advent calendars with chocolate are nice, and he really likes the dark chocolate ones, but he won’t touch them until Christmas eve so he can use the chocolates to make something for the two of you to share. He doesnt’ mind, it means that he can see you smiling.

Doppo:

He’s such a stereotypical dad about Christmas it’s insane. He wasn’t that bad before he and Natsue adopted Katsumi, but he is terrible now. Constant puns and jokes, it doesn’t stop. He’s the kinda guy to wear the ugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen and be proud of it. He and Natsue have Katsumi over for supper every year since he moved out, and he usually stays until the day after Christmas, then he hauls all his gifts home and doesn’t come by until new years, when they all have another big family dinner.

He’ll indulge in almost every Christmas activity you can think of. You wanna go sledding? He’ll go with you and drag Katsumi along. You wanna get some Hot Chocolate and sit by a fire? He’s down for that too. He’s happy to go along with whatever you and Natsue want to do. It’s the holidays and he’s not stingy about his time.

He, unlike Katsumi, isn’t the best at skating. He can do it, but he can really only skate slowly and stop, he’s not going to be racing you around the arena unless you piss him off enough, in which case, yeah, he’ll go after you, and poor Natsue will be stuck dealing with the two of you being way too boisterous. (She loves it)

He’s fine with gifts. He has patience, he knows good things are worth waiting for That being said, any big gifts are going to have his attention immediately and he’s going to pester you about said big gifts until he can open it. He’s very thoughtful with his gifts to you and Natsue, he wants the two loves of his life to be happy with what he gives them, and normally, you two will be very happy.

Stocking stuffers are always right for pranking. Prank him and he’ll love it, but prank each-other and it’s a glorious night where you both end up laughing so hard your ribs hurt. DO NOT open your stocking from Doppo in front of Katsumi, that’s a fast way to traumatise the poor man. He’ll get you something, whether it’s good, bad, or just downright hilarious is up to chance at that point honestly.

Get him a puzzle or model advent calendar, one of the big ones, he’ll be busy with it for hours once he gets all of the pieces. He’s a secret lover of puzzles and model kits. Anything he has to put together by hand is an automatic win. You’ll walk into the livingroom to do something and he’ll be there late at night, a light on, glasses equipped, slowly working on that puzzle or model kit. Getting him a Warhammer or Gundam kit would sweep him off his feet.

Natsue:

She likes Christmas a lot, she ropes you and Doppo into helping her Decorate about a week into December and you won’t regret it, because it winds up looking really good and being a really pleasant experience with two of your favourite people out there.

She’s down for literally any Christmas activity, be it just the two of you, all three of you, or just her and Doppo. At least once before Christmas though, she’d love to break out the hot chocolate platter and watch some movies. Bonus points if Katsumi is there, because the she has the three most important people in her life all together, getting along and having a good time.

She’s not bad at skating, but much like Doppo, she really only goes one speed. If you rile Doppo up he’ll chase after you, and usually she’ll wind up being used as a human sheild between you and her husband, and it won’t really work, as a heads up. She’ll let him get you with no hesitation.

She’s great at gift wrapping, if you need help you ask her and she’ll show you as many times as you need until you get it down. She doesn’t want a lot of gifts, never does, but somehow she winds up having the most. It’s just easy to see something and go “Yeah, Natsue would really like that!” She gives you some of the most heart melting gifts too, she’s good at doing that. Let her get a gift for each of the usual arena fighters and I guarantee you even Hanayama will start tearing up with how thoughtful her gifts are.

Stockings from Natsue are always safe, in sharp contrast to Doppo. She gets you an even mix between snacks, knick-knacks and practical stuff. You get at least one piece of jewlery from her in your stocking by the way.

Natsue likes advent calendars, she thinks they’re neat. Get her any kind and she’s perfectly happy, but if she expresses an interest in starting a new hobby around Christmas, you can and absolutely should look into getting an advent calender with supplies for said hobby in it, she’d melt.

Motobe:

He’s quiet in his enjoyment of the holidays in general, but he won’t lie, Christmas isn’t his absolute favourite. He’ll put up a few decorations (or more realistically, he’ll convince someone from his dojo to do that for him), but he doesn’t really do much about Christmas.

He’ll indulge in more laid-back Christmas activities, but anything more energetic is usually a polite no from him. He doesn’t mind, but depending on the weather and what it is, he might have to tell you no and suggest an alternative instead.

Skating is a really relaxed affair with him. Unlike Doppo, he maintains his one speed with you, and it doesn’t matter if you try and rile him up, he’s pretty patient. He mostly just wants to skate around and hold your hand, enjoy the weather and each-other’s company.

He’s good about gifts. Hell, he’ll even help you wrap his stuff if you let him. At the very least, he’ll help you put stuff away under the tree. He doesn’t really mind secrets, and he’s not really one for surprises, but he understands if you want to surprise him with whatever you got him. His gifts to you are usually pretty fun I won’t lie. Man will full on get you a good knife for Christmas every year that you’re together. Lessons on how to use that knife come without charge.

He will outright tell you to be careful with his stocking to you. He’ll put god knows what in there, and honestly, the thought is really sweet, but opening a stocking to several sharp and dangerous objects is very jarring. Especially considering that beneath all the weapons will be really sweet gifts and candies. He outright tells you he prefers practical things in his stocking, and while he won’t refuse a gift, if he doesn’t think it’s useful it’ll just sorta sit in this little cubby he has in his room.

Advent calendars are fun, he’ll accept any one you can get him, but dark chocolate and model kids are popular with him, especially if it’s a proper model kit of old battleships and fighter planes. Your advent calendar from him, shockingly enough, usually is a perfume calendar (unless you’re allergic).

Shibukawa:

Mischeivious old man will take every opportunity to rub the fact that it’s getting to be Christmas in the face of every young fighter he meets. They start charging him? “Well, I know who’s going to be on the naughty list!” It gives them just enough pause that his crazy old man act completely drops and he whoops them so hard they legitimately need to take a break.

He’s good to do almost any Christmas activity as long as it’s not too cold out, his old bones can’t really take the cold as well as they used to. Either way, toss a heavy coat at him and he’ll stop his grumbling and drop the act. He expects you to dress up as much as he does though, so don’t think you can get away with wearing a coat less thick than his.

He’ll skate, sure! He’s not bad at it either, he’s pretty graceful.Given the chance he’ll zip around the ring once or twice before he comes up to you expecting you to hold his hand and hang around him for a surprisingly wholesome moment with him, free from his pranking and mischief. That being said, if a kid eats it in fornt of him, he’s going to laugh.

He’ll peek at his gifts out of sheer spite if you ask him to behave. And he’ll do it blatantly too. Don’t worry, he’ll tear the wrapping off while the gift is still in a bag or something so he doesn’t actually know what it is. His gifts are fun, admittedly. They’re real good too. The first one he hands you will always have you snorting so hard you give yourself a headache. He doesn’t expect you to keep that one, he’s just happy he can catch you off-guard.

Stocking stuffers are sacred to him. He gets you the sweetest most tear-jerking gift in that stocking and it’ll be the very last ting you find because he deliberately stuffs it way into the toe. It’s enough to make you cry, and for once, he’ll be nice and not tease you about it right away. He’ll wait a week, at least. He’ll take anything you give him, but fun little tools of mischeif are always appreciated. He’s got a collection that started from when he was young, it’s honestly impressive.

His favourite advent calendars are, in fact, candy ones, if only so he can be that kind old grandpa that hands kids a candy, only for it to be the most sour thing in existence. He’ll troll the neighbourhood kids so hard, but don’t worry, it’s a mutual prank war.

Tokugawa:

He loves Christmas, his entire home gets decorated for Christmas, and he even tries to gussy the arena up a little bit. Once Jack came around, he convinced him and Baki to help him hang an upside-down tree from the ceiling near the lights, it was a great source of confusion for quite some time.

He’ll do his best to convince the fighters to come participate in Christmas activities with him, and if you’re one of the fighters then you’re no exception. If he can’t bring them to Christmas though, he’ll bring Christmas to them in the form of Christmas drinks being served to them before and after fights. He often bonds with the other hot chocolate enjoyers about the richer flavoured ones.

He absolutely loves going skating, but including the fighters in it is a bit messy. Between the younger fighters getting a bit chaotic and the others that may be present, he usually takes shelter with the older fighters or Hanayama, who tends to stay fairly calm. Once Jack gets the initial “I need to go” out of his system though, he’s happy to hitch a ride. He hasn’t ever gone that fast over ice and it’s absolutely thrilling to him, though he doesn’t get to enjoy that long before Baki insists on racing his big brother and he’s relegated back to skating on his own two feet.

Gifts are fun with Tokugawa. He makes it clear that has favourite fighters, and they often get gifts from him, though what he doesn’t ever expect is another gift in return. Sometimes it’s a stunning match dedicated to him, and other times it’s an actual gift. Upon learning that he was a hot chocolate lover, Jack got some of the good stuff from Canada, and Doppo got him a brand new pipe.

Stocking stuffers from Tokugawa are fun, because he leaves one on each changing room door. They’re refilled for each contestant that fights, so everyone gets at least one. It’s not a lot, but it’s something that they’ll all use and appreciate. Most of the time it’s a first aid kit, just to be on the safe side, but sometimes it’s a little something to show his appreciation.

Tokugawa has a lot of time on his hands when he’s not planning fights or tournaments, he pays people to do the simpler stuff, so he enjoys picking up new hobbies. Puzzle advents are popular with him, especially if you can get custom puzzles. Getting the main fighters to agree to take a picture for Tokugawa to be turned into a puzzle isn’t the easiest thing, but they’ll all eventually cave in and agree to it.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki dou #grappler baki #baki headcanons #baki hanma #kozue matsumoto #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #motobe izou #shibukawa gouki #tokugawa mitsunari

46 notes · View notes

theemporium · 1 year

Text

[1k] weather warnings, snowstorms and spending christmas locked up with your two boys.

“You have got to be shittin’ me.”

“You’re dad-posing again, Harrington.”

You couldn’t help but let a snort escape your lips, leaning further into the couch as you gently knocked your foot against Eddie’s thigh, a hopeless action in chastising him.

“The weather is shit,” Steve said as he stood by the window, focused on glaring at the blizzard buzzing outside instead of the snickering two behind him. “The driveway is gonna be a pain tomorrow.”

“Oh he’s keeping the dad role going,” Eddie murmured.

“Of course he is,” you murmured back when you noticed Steve finally turned around.

“That’s gotta be an amber warning,” Steve stated with a shake of his head. “Gotta be.”

“It’s gotta be,” you repeated with a heavy sigh. “It’s just a lil’ bit of snow, Steve, it’ll be fine.”

It was, in fact, not a little bit of snow. And it was not fine either.

For both of your boyfriends, the holiday season was never one pack full of family time and busy houses. It broke your heart really, coming from such a big and lively family yourself, you were used to the month of December being happily chaotic (even if most people in your family only cared about the food and the gift giving). But neither Steve nor Eddie had ever experienced something like it, not really.

And whilst the unconventional nature of your relationship was still odd and bizarre to most people in the shitty small town you lived in, you were grateful that your family had come from a more understanding place—a place they just wanted to see you happy and taken care of.

So really, there was no doubt or even a moment of hesitance when you invited them both to spend Christmas with you and your family. With Wayne working the overnight shift meaning he would be sleeping all day anyways and Steve’s parents probably deep in the continent of Europe, it seemed like the simplest solution to spend the day with all the people you loved under one roof.

It was Christmas Eve when you made your way to Steve’s house.

The boy was a mess, convinced they were overstepping their boundaries and that your parents would hate them both for this (to which you scoffed and reminded him your family already had their stockings ready by the mantelpiece). Then he started spiralling about what to take in his overnight bag (not that it mattered considering the boys had a drawer in your room with most of the stuff they would need anyways). And then, after a few beers, you had finally calmed him down so the three of you could spend a few silent moments together before you returned to the chaos of your overbearing household.

However, that never quite happened.

It was actually a red weather warning that was instated across Indiana as the blizzard hit far worse than anyone had expected. The snow was packing thick and it was only going to get heavier, the ice was dangerous and invisible to the eye and the temperatures just kept dropping. And there was no way the three of you were getting back to your house across town in this state, not even in Eddie’s van.

You were snowed in with your boyfriends.

“I–”

“So help me god, Harrington, if you say I told you so—”

“But I did tell you so!” Steve huffed out as he slumped onto the couch, nudging you until you shuffled closer to Eddie and gave the boy space to settle on the other side of you. “We’re gonna miss Christmas with your folks now.” He paused for a moment before looking at you with an apologetic smile. “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be,” you said as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “It’s fine, we can spend it with them when the snow clears up. Just be glad we got stuck in your house instead of the trailer.”

Eddie snorted beside you. “Ouch, doll, hit me where it hurts.”

Your eyes gleamed. “I’ll kiss it better.”

Eddie’s grin only widened in response but he leaned around the back of the couch to jokingly tousle Steve’s hair. “Harrington here is just pissy Santa will forget to bring him his Farah Fawcett spray if he’s in the wrong house for Christmas.”

“Talk as much shit as you like, Munson, but you know you love this hair,” Steve snapped back and Eddie could only shrug in response.

“Second best feature about you, baby,” he grinned back, enjoying the way the blush spread over his cheeks and ears.

“You two are gonna be a handful to deal with,” you muttered, mostly to yourself but the comment was picked up by the other two boys.

“You never had anything against a handful before,” Eddie teased, lightly poking at your ribs because he liked the way you squirmed.

“Or a mouthful,” Steve added which only caused the other boy to break out into laughter.

“Ha ha, hilarious, the two of you,” you deadpanned, feeling your own cheeks burn.

“Want us to rejog your memory?” Eddie asked as he cosied up closer to you, his thigh pressed against your own and his fingers dancing along the back of your neck, teasing and tempting but not touching you yet.

“I mean, we do have time to kill,” Steve spoke up, his eyes fixated on his own hand as he gave your knee a soft squeeze before his hand started to be upwards. “Trapped in this big house…all alone…no one else coming to get us…gives a guy ideas, ya know?”

“Do you have any ideas, doll?” Eddie’s words were whispered against your ear, warm breath tickling your skin. His head tucked down a little, teeth lightly nibbling at your lobe before he dipped down to press a kiss just below your ear—just where he knew you’d let out a gasp.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve murmured as his fingers nimbly undid the button of your jeans. “Think we’ve been good enough to open our Christmas present early this year? We promise we’ll share.”

“We’ll take real good care of her,” Eddie added as he lightly pushed the edge of your sweater off one of your shoulders, his lips already exploring the new skin.

“You two are bad influences,” you breathed out as your head fell against the back of the couch, two pairs of hands working to quickly discard your clothes.

You could feel their smiles against your skin.

“Merry Christmas, boys, show me how nice you can be.”

293 notes · View notes

mcufan72 · 1 year

Text

Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut (eventually)

A/N: this is a Loki x female reader AU. It's the most personal story I've written so far and I put my whole heart, blood, sweat and tears into it. It's a story about love and my protagonists talk a lot with each other. It's a slow burn but eventually, there will be smut.

I've never been to New York or Norway, all my descriptions are fictionalized. Also, my usage of MCU facts is incorrect and I don't delve deep into details here. I use it as I need it for my little story you hopefully like and enjoy!

This fic mentions an accident and alcoholism but only in one chapter. Descriptions are vague and not detailed. If any of it should trigger you, please don't read. Every chapter will have a warning if necessary.

Some things here are heavily inspired by @lokisprettygirl 's writing. Loki smelling like sandalwood and the overly sensitive lines on his skin when he's in his Jotun form are things I read in her fics first (HMN and TNSATSI). A big thank you to you, my friend, for being in agreement that I'm using it in my fic here, too. And also a big thank you for your constant support and encouragement. You know how much it means to me.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 here

It was a cold winter afternoon, Christmas day and New Year's Eve only a few weeks away. This year it was already very cold in New York City and you had to wear warming, cuddly winter clothing for your daily walks in the park. Today you chose a knee-long woollen black dress that hugged your body perfectly, warm stockings, a pair of warm leather boots, a thick black winter coat, a big-sized fluffy scarf in shades of green and your favourite knitted beanie with the dark green big bobble…and not to forget your matching knitted gloves.

Warnings: none so far, just some flirting

After you got dressed, you were on the way to the park. Walking to that place and spending some time there after work became a ritual for you since you moved to this city around springtime. Your favourite place there was a bench at the little lake and you loved to sit there, especially when the sun was shining.

You had a fantastic view over the lake here. There was also a large lawn where people could sit, do sports or have a picnic and there was plenty of space for children to run and play safely. You loved to sit on that bench, secretly you called it yours, and you loved to watch the people here being happy and having fun. Somehow it warmed your heart to see all the couples in love flirting with each other or the families on their Sunday walks. You could have had it too, all of it but … it wasn't meant to be. Not for you.

After everything that happened and went wrong in your life, you had the urgent need to leave your hometown. You needed that distance from your old life. You had worked in many different big cities like London, Berlin, Oslo and you never had any trouble finding a job.

And now it's New York. You hadn't gotten the job you originally wanted to get but it was fine for now. Most important for you was that this city had the right measure of distance to your previous home. Besides, there was no one left there who would worry about you. It seemed you were destined to be alone so you couldn't disappoint or hurt anyone anymore.

Now in the winter time, the shallow lake was completely frozen and the first snow had already fallen. The kids built snowmen with their friends or their parents, had snowball fights or made snow angels. Some people enjoyed ice skating on the lake. It made you smile when you saw how much fun they had.

You let your gaze wander over the scenery and you soaked up every beautiful moment of it as you did every single day when you were sitting here. It always calmed you down from your stressful job and it was also a calming distraction in general.

On the bench next to yours sat a man, watching the lake and the people like you were doing, an old married couple and their dog were walking past you and you greeted each other kindly. When you began to freeze you decided to go back home. You were hungry and tired and after a hot shower, you went to sleep.

The next day at work was a very hard one. Your job as a medical assistant at a medical care centre exhausted you more and more recently, there were so many people to take care of. So today's walk in the park was extremely welcomed.

When you had taken a seat on your bench you first soaked up the peaceful atmosphere. You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths and you felt better immediately. Your gaze wandered around and on the bench next to yours sat a man again. Wasn't that the same man as yesterday? You weren't sure and you didn't think about it further.

His gaze wandered around and he watched the people in the park. He enjoyed the atmosphere here, it calmed him down in a pleasant way yesterday and so he decided to come here more often. It was a good distraction for him from the hard and strenuous trips and missions he has to make regularly.

On the bench next to him sat a woman. Wasn't that the same woman as yesterday? It should be you, you wore the same unique beanie with the big dark green bobble. He will be here again tomorrow. Maybe you'll be here again too.

The next few days went by in the same routine and as every day you visited the park. And as every day…the man on the bench next to yours was there again, too. Sitting there like you, alone like you. How come you had never noticed him here except in the last few days? You came daily here for months now but you had never seen him here. Maybe he had just discovered this place here recently and it seemed he liked this place as much as you did.

Today you allowed yourself to look a little bit longer at him. He was well dressed, in a black suit, black leather ankle boots and a coat that seemed to be too thin for the cold weather. His raven hair was slicked back and reached far over his shoulders.

Even when he sat there with loosely crossed legs you could see how long and well-trained they were. Also otherwise he seemed to be very attractive. When he turned his head in your direction and glanced at you, you looked away quickly. You felt caught staring at him and you hoped he couldn't see your reddened cheeks.

The next day you came to the park again as he hoped you would do. Same time, same place. And you were alone again. Did you wait for someone who never comes? You sat down and watched the scenery like every day. Whenever you did not look in his direction he observed you secretly. Not in a weird way, he would never do something like that. He was just curious and you looked cute with your knitted beanie with the big bobble, cuddled up into your fluffy scarf.

Yesterday you two looked at each other for a very short moment but unfortunately, you looked away quickly. He liked your pretty face and he thought he saw your cheeks reddening when he caught you staring at him.

He would like to get you known but he would never dare to address you. He would never bother you. You seemed not to be the kind of woman he usually asked to spend the night with him. He couldn't really describe what it was but there was a special aura surrounding you. You seemed discreet…and lonely.

There was something about you that evoked his protective instinct and so he decided to return to the park and this bench daily to have a look if you might be there again, too. You radiated so much peace and kindness and it made him feel comfortable. He just wanted to see you. Nothing more.

When you arrived at the park in the early afternoon at your bench, the handsome stranger was already there again, staring at the lake. It seemed he didn't even recognize you. You had the feeling of being protected by him only through his presence. But maybe it was just your imagination or wishful thinking because he was a great, tall, noble statue of a man. You had fallen for something like this before…

Nonetheless, he has intrigued you and you were wondering why he was here every day now too, on his bench and every day at the same time…at the same time as you. This morning before you went to work you decided that today would be the day when you would address him. You had nothing to lose so you would give it a chance. Of course, he was a stranger and maybe you should not talk to him but you felt drawn to him somehow.

After half an hour of sitting on your bench, you gathered all your courage and went over to him. You felt a bit nervous because normally you would never do that. But nothing in your life was normal anymore. You knew it could be dangerous to talk to a stranger. But there were so many people here around you that you felt safe enough to talk to him. And why shouldn't two lonely people talk to each other? Could be nice, couldn't it?

"May I?" you asked the well-dressed man with the black, slicked-back long hair.

Unlike before when you just looked at him from afar, you now realized how handsome he actually was. Before today you had mostly only looked at him from the corners of your eyes because you never wanted to stare at him.

He had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, small but seductive lips, curved into a slightly mischievous smile, a straight beautiful nose and irresistible piercing baby-blue eyes…he looked like a prince, his appearance was flawless, godly. Like every day he wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a light cashmere coat and a light-woollen scarf, just loosely wrapped around his neck.

You still wondered if the cold didn't affect him because he wore clothes like this every day.

He widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows when he looked up at you, directly into your eyes. You nearly forgot to breathe. He made you shiver with excitement.

"Of course! Please, take a seat" he answered while he rose from the bench.

His gaze softened and he made an inviting gesture with his hand. His smooth dark voice caused goosebumps on your skin under your cosy and warming clothes and you smiled at him.

"Thank you, Sir" and the both of you sat down again simultaneously, facing each other.

"You might be surprised why I'm talking to you. Normally I don't do that." You smiled at him, almost apologetically.

"Normally you don't? But now you do!" he smirked at you, seemingly amused.

"Ahhmm…I'm sorry, maybe…maybe it wasn't a good idea…ahhmm…believe me it was the last thing on my mind to inconvenience you, I'm sorry! I guess I'd better get going" and you wanted to get up and leave. How embarrassing, what had gotten into you?

"No, no young Lady, please stay!"

His deep baritone and the friendly tone in his voice stopped your want to leave. You smiled at him again but you still felt embarrassed and you felt your cheeks blushing. He was a fascinating man and his eyes seemed to stare deep into your soul. You were sure you could neither lie to a man like him nor not like him. You took a deep breath before you found your voice again.

"I recognized you being here every day like me, alone…just like me. And I thought maybe we could sit here together and talk to each other…but of course…only if you want."

"Believe me or not, I had the same thought but I would never have spoken to you. You know, I didn't mean to come at you like that."

"Oh, that's very decent, Sir. Not every man is like this" and you smiled at each other.

"I just …watched you from afar. Sounds weird, doesn't it? But I was conce–…I noticed you're coming to the park every day, too. Aren't you afraid to sit here every afternoon alone?" he asked you and his concern was genuine.

"To be honest…no! No, I'm not. There are so many people here every day in the afternoons, I feel safe so far." you explained.

"I've been visiting the park every day for months now and never something bad happened. Of course, something bad could happen every day. I also know that this city was attacked by aliens several years ago, but that's not how I want to live…every day expecting the worst, no!" and you shook your head. Bad days you've had more than enough.

"I always hope that every day will just offer the best things to me" you said thoughtfully and smiled.

"And now you are here every day…you could protect me if you want," you said to him and laughed.

"…no no, I'm just kidding, don't take me too seriously!" You smiled at him while you pulled your beanie right.

You were cute, really cute. Your smile was warming, your attitude was friendly, and you also seemed to be strong and confident…with a hint of sadness. He got to know many women and with most of them, he was intimately involved. With some of them he had also nice conversations but none of them was like you.

"I would do that immediately for you, my Lady. I would never let someone harm you."

He genuinely meant it and he gave you a friendly grin. But he was sure if you had known who he really was and what he did in the past, you would never allow him to do that.

"You're truly a gentleman…but please, I'm not a Lady…I'm y/n " and you offered him a handshake with your gloved hand, a radiant smile on your lips.

He took your hand and held your fingers with his, lifted your hand carefully upwards, bowed down his head and gave an implied kiss to the back of your gloved hand. When he lifted his head upwards again he looked into your eyes, still gently holding your hand. You swallowed thickly, nobody ever did that before. Never before had someone given you a perfect hand kiss.

"Lady y/n…I'm Loki Laufeyson. It's an honour to meet you!"

You couldn't help yourself but stare into his eyes with a slightly open mouth. You were utterly impressed by him and his manners.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Laufeyson" you answered breathlessly.

After what felt like an eternity, he softly let go of your hand. You wished he would still hold it because it felt nice.

You weren't sure but you thought you had heard his name before. You had lived and worked in Oslo for some time so it might be just a coincidence.

"Are you from Norway? Because of your name…"

"No, not really" he chuckled.

"Oh, okay, I lived and worked there for a while and that might be the reason your name sounds familiar to me" you explained and you still had the feeling you had heard his name somewhere before.

"Maybe you ought to be afraid of me!" he stated. He knew that nearly everyone still feared him.

"No, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm not afraid of you. I just dared to speak to you" and you gave him your sweet smile again.

"Should I be afraid of you?" you asked him mischievously.

"I don't know…" he answered you playfully with his deep, dark voice and it made you shiver.

His voice was like sweet honey that slowly ran down your body. Probably you would do anything he asks you for and you would just obey. You should better get rid of this weakness.

Instead of widening your eyes in fear, he seemed to seduce you. Why didn't you fear him? And he could swear you had an idea who he was.

"So we conclude that I'm not afraid of you." You smiled at him brightly again.

"If you'd have wanted to harm me you could've done it yet, you had many opportunities in the last days, didn't you?" You asked him confirming.

"Right. But what if I'm planning to do it?" He leaned his head towards you.

"What if I lied?"

His voice went more silent and deeper but his gaze remained friendly. You shivered again but not because of fear.

"Possibly you did…but if you want to harm me, even if you want to abduct me, I wouldn't mind …there won't be anyone who would actually miss me." Your gaze became more serious and sad.

"What are you saying?" He furrowed his eyebrows and gazed concernedly at you.

"No one would miss me" you murmured sadly.

"And still I'm not afraid of you…just a gut feeling, it rarely deceives me" you said, more confident again.

"There must be someone?" and he furrowed his eyebrows again.

He felt bad for you. What happened to you that you were all alone nowadays and his concern about you grew…feelings he knew but barely showed others.

"No, there's no one. It's a long story, Mr. Laufeyson" you said quietly and turned your head away from his gaze towards the lake and you changed the subject.

"It's a nice place here, isn't it? One of the best people-watching spots in the city," you said.

"Yes, it is. Indeed" he answered and looked intensely at you.

"It's kind of peaceful and it offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, doesn't it?" he asked you and couldn't take his eyes off you. Somehow he felt drawn to you.

"Yes, it does...and it also offers a distraction from life…" you said, sighing.

"It's beginning to dusk…I should go home now" you said and looked at him again.

"Will you be coming back tomorrow? And I can assure you, I definitely won't harm you, I didn't lie to you."

He would never do that to you and he just wanted to see you again. And the confirmation that you were alone fueled the desire to protect you.

You looked and smiled at him again before you answered.

"I knew I could trust you. Of course, Mr. Laufeyson, like every day I'll be here again tomorrow. Same time, same place!"

"Same time, same place, my Lady."

He almost looked lovingly into your eyes, took your hand carefully and gave you an implied kiss to the back of your hand again. When he released your hand, you both stood up from the bench.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Laufeyson."

"See you tomorrow, Lady y/n."

On your way back home you couldn't stop thinking about him. Had you really had the courage to talk to a stranger? You laughed at yourself and your exuberance. You were about to make the same mistake as then…but Loki Laufeyson seemed to be different. Extremely handsome but different and with perfect manners. But no, you would never fall for someone again, it would just come to an unfortunate end again.

Loki couldn't believe what just had happened. You, one of the most beautiful women he had seen in a long time, so beautiful both externally and inwardly too so it seemed, dared to talk to him.

Did you actually say you trust him? Him? Without knowing him? You were adorable, indeed…and you were different. You were not like all the women who stood literally in a line in front of his bedroom door, you weren't nearly like them.

Of course, it confirmed his ego, that many women wanted him but it wasn't something that made him happy in life. If he was honest with himself he always searched for someone like you.

But he wasn't made for a serious relationship and to handle it this way, to only look for sexual affairs, was the best solution for him and it satisfied his carnal needs. And by the way, he knew there would never be a woman for him.

He knew there would never be someone who wanted to satisfy the undisclosed desires of his heart and his desire for genuine love. And so he went to the bar, like almost every day, where he would definitely find a willing companion for a lustful night of sex.

To be continued ...

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki au fics

207 notes · View notes

pastelitey · 5 months

Text

Solidaritek: Keep You Warm

It's the holidays and between Christmas parties with friends and working through the painfully slow process of moving in together, Jimmy is finally ready to say "I love you" to Tango for the first time. If only he could find the right moment to do it. word count: 6811 pairings: Jimmy/Tango, Implied!Grian/Scar tags: Modern AU, Christmas, Christmas party, Mistletoe, Domestic fluff [ao3 link]

When the holidays arrive, Jimmy and Tango are in the middle of moving in together. They’re eagerly waiting for Tango’s lease to be up in January, and have been steadily moving things from his apartment to Jimmy’s in the meantime. The living room is filled with more moving boxes than Christmas decorations at this point, but neither of them are complaining. With every passing day it becomes more real that they’re actually doing this, that after a certain point Tango will stop ‘spending the night’ and will actually start to call Jimmy’s space his own. It makes Jimmy a little dizzy when he thinks about it.

Jimmy gets home a little after five o’clock on Christmas Eve and immediately gets to work. He pulls ingredients out of the fridge and the cupboards to make soup. While he’s never considered himself a great cook, when compared with Tango’s abilities, he looks like he belongs in a professional kitchen somewhere in Paris. So he ends up cooking most days, but he really doesn’t mind.

While he waits for the stock to heat up on the stove he begins rearranging the boxes in the living room, something he really should have done earlier. Some of Tango’s stuff is already interspersed with Jimmy’s within the apartment, but the majority of it is still stuffed into cardboard boxes to be taken care of at a later date. Tango keeps assuring Jimmy that he’ll get around to it eventually, but every time he comes over to get started on it he ends up distracted by something or other.

As Jimmy’s stirring all the ingredients together in the pot he hears keys jangle in the door. It brings a smile to his face, reminding him of the day not so long ago when he’d given Tango the spare key. Tango’s grin at that moment was like a million suns shining all at once, and Jimmy never wanted to look away.

Tango enters the apartment like he always does; in a whirlwind. He’s muttering something under his breath, keys jangling violently before he throws them on the counter. Jimmy looks over his shoulder, smiling fondly at the man as he kicks the door closed, arms filled with a comically oversized paper grocery bag. He kicks off his shoes and when he sees Jimmy looking, greets him with a smile that never fails to take Jimmy’s breath away.

“Hi, Jim!” Tango says chipperly. He sets the paper bag down on the counter and races around the island to greet him properly, with a kiss. Jimmy steps away from the burner right before Tango barrels into him, latching onto him and kissing the corner of Jimmy’s mouth.

Jimmy’s heart swells as Tango pulls away, arms still wrapped around him. “Hi,” he says back, eyes raking over Tango now that he’s up close. He’s wearing his puffy winter coat that Jimmy always jokes makes him look like a penguin, complete with a fine layer of snow dusted across his shoulders. His nose and cheeks are tinged red from the cold, making him look all the more cuddly. And to top it all off, he’s wearing the terrible beanie Jimmy crocheted for him during his phase of thinking crochet was his new big thing. Needless to say, it absolutely was not, but Tango still wears the black and red beanie religiously.

Jimmy’s heart swells and he wants to say it, to tell Tango right now about the feelings that he’s finally accepted. But Tango pulls away as quickly as he sprang into Jimmy’s arms, and the chance is lost. But that’s okay, Jimmy decides, because when he couldn’t sleep the other night because of it he came to the conclusion that when he was going to tell Tango it needed to be during a special moment. And while practically every moment with Tango is special, Jimmy wants to be able to look back on it fondly instead of cringing at his past self for saying it in the middle of the kitchen.

“Let me take my stuff off and then I’ll help you!” Tango says, already unzipping his coat as he prances towards the bedroom. Jimmy smiles, watching him as he goes, before turning back to the pot on the stove. He’s still smiling to himself like a fool, replaying the moment where he almost said it over and over.

Tango reappears a minute later once his layers have been shucked off, dressed in a simple red sweater and the cargo pants he’s determined are still in good shape. Jimmy puts the lid over the pot and follows Tango over to the island where the paper bag sits.

“Did you get the bread?” Jimmy asks, peering into the contents of the bag. It’s snatched out of view almost immediately by a wide-eyed Tango, who rifles through it and pulls out a smaller, plastic bag. He shoves it behind his back with a cheshire grin, replacing the paper bag on the counter.

“I haven’t wrapped your present yet!” Tango explains, inching his way back towards the bedroom, positioned so that Jimmy can’t see behind him. Once close enough, he dashes into the room, certainly to hide the gift out of sight. Jimmy rolls his eyes fondly and turns back to the paper bag, head swimming with adoration for the man.

They eat their dinner and talk about their days with that yuletide log youtube video looping in the background. Tango got off work early to do some last-minute shopping for his secret santa gift for tomorrow, which Jimmy has been on his case for for the past two weeks. He’s sympathetic when Tango describes how busy the shops were, but ultimately it was worth it when Tango found the perfect item for his secret santa. Although they’ve agreed to keep their secret santa’s identities secret, Jimmy is fairly certain that Tango’s is Grian, based solely off of the fact that it took him so long to even come up with an idea for what to get them.

When their dinner is finished, Tango makes them hot chocolate(one of the only things Jimmy trusts Tango not to burn) and they settle on the couch to watch a cheesy Christmas movie Jimmy loved when he was a kid. The entire time they’re watching he keeps assuring Tango it was better when he was ten years old, which only makes the other man cackle and curl into Jimmy’s side even more. It’s moments like these that are so immensely precious to Jimmy, and he knows he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

When the movie is over Jimmy decides it’s time for bed. Tango wants to stay up but Jimmy can see the dark circles growing under his eyes and forces him into some pajamas so they can get to sleep. Most of Tango’s pajamas consist of Jimmy’s casual clothes, which he really doesn’t mind, especially since he likes seeing Tango in his things.

They tuck themselves into bed and even though the bed is big enough for them both to sleep comfortably on their own sides, Tango always insists on curling up to Jimmy like a clingy cat. Jimmy watches the snow fall outside through the window as Tango gets comfy, running his hand absentmindedly through Tango’s hair as he begins to still on top of Jimmy’s chest.

“G’night,” Tango says, his voice rumbly against Jimmy’s diaphragm.

Jimmy smiles, pressing a kiss against Tango’s head as best he can at the awkward angle. “Goodnight.” Another set of words hang on the edge of Jimmy’s tongue, ready to catapult themselves into the space between the two of them and possibly disrupt everything. Maybe right now, curled up in bed with Tango’s head on Jimmy’s chest on Christmas Eve, it would be the perfect time to say it. Years down the line they could reminisce on Jimmy’s perfect timing and laugh fondly about it.

But he takes too long to think about it and Tango is already out like a light, snoring softly. Jimmy shakes his head affectionately at the other man, pulling him closer and closing his eyes, thinking I love you as sleep whisks him away.

~ ~ ~

When the morning arrives and Jimmy wakes up, it’s to the early morning winter light filtering in through the window and to the smell of something delicious wafting in through the open bedroom door. Jimmy stretches his arms as he registers Tango is not in bed, and begins wondering what Tango is up to in the kitchen. He doesn’t smell anything burning yet, so there’s still hope.

When he peels himself out of the warm bed, he puts on his bunny slippers(a gift from Tango once the weather started turning) and carefully makes his way to the kitchen. He tries to make his steps as loud as possible, knowing how easily Tango can startle when he’s focused on something. Thankfully as soon as he rounds the corner Tango is greeting him with that gorgeous smile of his and some sort of frosting or food coloring on his face.

“Morning!” Tango greets cheerfully. “I’m making pancakes!”

Jimmy hums softly, walking over and surveying the accumulating mess on the counters and stovetop. “So that’s what I could smell.” He plants a kiss on Tango’s cheek, nuzzling into him and enjoying his warmth.

“Don’t worry, I have the stove turned down so I don’t burn them this time.” Tango flips an artificially colored green pancake onto the only Christmas themed plate Jimmy owns, holding it up to Jimmy. “Look, Christmas trees!”

Jimmy looks down at the unfortunately shaped blob that kind of resembles a tree, more in color than shape. Jimmy can’t help but crack a smile, but manages to hold back a laugh.

“Is that what it’s supposed to be?”

Tango rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah! I also made some in the shape of stockings, but they look more like candy canes, just without the stripes.” He dances off to the island with the plate in hand, where he adds the Christmas tree pancake to a growing pile of the breakfast treats. Jimmy has to admit that Tango is decent at making pancakes, for whatever reason. Even if he makes a mess of the kitchen while doing so, Jimmy has no reservations against allowing Tango to take the reins when he decides he wants pancakes.

He turns off the burner when Tango forgets to and they clean up the mess of pancake batter and food dye together. Tango makes Jimmy admire his pancake creations before they eat them, and Jimmy has to give praise to each individual pancake before they can even take the syrup out of the cupboard. It’s worth it, in the end, when Tango kisses Jimmy as a little prize and Jimmy feels like he’s floating.

He wipes the pancake batter and flour off of Tango’s chin after some resistance and he feels the words rise up in his throat again, but manages to keep them down.

After they eat their Christmas themed pancakes, Jimmy has to brush his teeth feverishly to get some of the food dye off, and then after that it’s time for presents.

Jimmy is quite proud of his present for Tango. He’d been planning it for a while, as he first saw Tango ogling it through a shop window back at the beginning of September. It’s a multi-tool kit with lots of bits and bobs that Jimmy is sure would come in handy with some of Tango’s projects that he likes to work on. He even made sure he got the red one, Tango’s favorite color. He bought one of those little gift boxes people usually put jewelry in with a little custom tag and he even googled a calligraphy website to put Tango’s name on it and make it extra special.

It’s all worth it, too, because when Tango opens the box he practically starts bouncing off the walls. Jimmy’s face is peppered with kisses and he gets to hear Tango’s little ramblings about how much he loves it, which makes Jimmy only grow more affectionate for him. Thankfully before he can even start to consider telling Tango the thing he’s been dying to tell him, Tango is shoving his gift into Jimmy’s lap.

Giddy, Jimmy opens the gift bag and pulls out an immense amount of tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag, wrapped in one last layer of tissue paper, is a fuzzy, blue and red sweater. Jimmy smiles as he holds it up, but the smile disappears once he sees what’s on the front of it.

“It’s Captain America!” Tango says, snickering to himself.

Jimmy gives Tango an unimpressed look. “I can see that.”

As Tango begins laughing, Jimmy just shakes his head affectionately. It really is a nice sweater, save for the tacky image of the patriotic superhero that’s stuck to the front of it. He begins wondering if he can use a pair of scissors or something to take it off, but then Tango might be upset, so he better not.

“Did you just buy this for me so you can steal it from me?” Jimmy asks with a raised eyebrow. Tango knows that Jimmy loves his sweaters, but Jimmy knows that Tango loves to steal said sweaters.

Tango, looking quite pleased with himself, shakes his head. “No, actually.” He pulls something out from behind his back, and soon Jimmy is gaping at the red and yellow sweater displayed before him. “I got a matching one for myself!”

Tango’s sweater has Iron Man plastered on the middle of it instead of Captain America, but the pattern is the same. Jimmy puts his head in his hands as Tango laughs, but at least he’s enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe you,” Jimmy says, face flushing a deep red color. He never should have told Tango about the Captain America knock-off avatar he used for all the old games he used to play.

“I figured we could wear them to the party, so everyone knows we came together!” Tango explains with a grin, already pulling his sweater over top of his pajama shirt.

Jimmy pouts at Tango goodnaturedly. “Everyone already knows we’re coming together.”

“Please?” Tango says, leaning close with his hands clasped in front of him.

Jimmy looks over his sweater one last time and rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m going to wear it.” He gives Tango a quick peck on the lips, holding the sweater close to his chest. “Thank you.”

It hadn’t been what he was expecting, but it really is sweet. Jimmy could care less about the worth or practicality of whatever gift he received, all that mattered to Jimmy was the thought behind it. And yeah, it would certainly be embarrassing to wear to the Christmas party, but at least Tango would be wearing a matching one beside him.

And just the thought of matching with Tango—visually showing off to all their friends that they’re together—makes Jimmy happier than ever.

~ ~ ~

Thanks to the terrible traffic and the winter roads, Jimmy and Tango end up being some of the last few people to arrive at the party. After finding a parking spot, Jimmy carries the sweet potato casserole he cooked up while Tango’s in charge of carrying the secret santa gifts. The sun is already going down as they approach the front door, warm lighting emanating from the windows of Grian’s home. Thankfully the walkway has been cleared so they make it to the front door in one piece.

Just as Jimmy raises a hand to knock on the door, it swings open and someone plucks the glass pan right out of his arms. “Thank you!” Grian cheers with a devilish grin, before slamming the door on them. Jimmy takes a second to comprehend what just happened as he hears Grian shout about the arrival of the sweet potatoes followed by hearty laughter from the other partygoers.

“Did he just do what I think he just did?” Tango says, giggling despite Jimmy’s unimpressed expression.

“He did,” Jimmy grits out. He knocks on the door properly this time, despite not hearing Grian lock it behind himself. Jimmy imagines Grian must be getting a kick out of himself right now.

When the door opens the second time, Scar is standing in the doorway. “Well hello there! Glad to see you two could finally make it!” He ushers them inside the warm house and Jimmy is immediately overwhelmed by the smell of good food ruminating throughout the place.

“Thanks for letting us in!” Jimmy says with a shake of his head, pulling off his coat before helping Tango to do the same.

“Not a problem!” Scar says with an easy smile. Jimmy feels slightly less silly about what he and Tango are wearing when he sees the obnoxiously bright Christmas cat sweater Scar is currently donning, complete with little blinking lights and golden pom-poms. He looks like a walking Christmas tree that someone’s got their cat stuck in.

“Where’s the gift table?” Tango asks, spinning around as they survey the unfolding festivities. It seems like everyone else has arrived already, with Cleo, Ren and Martyn gossiping on one end of the couch, Gem and Bdubs fighting over control of the speaker and what Christmas song to play, Joel and Lizzie splayed out on the carpet and playing with the dog—wait, whose dog is that?—and even more voices coming from the kitchen.

“Gift table is in the dining room, I can take them for—Oh. My. Gosh.” Scar’s jaw drops and his eyes physically light up, and it takes Jimmy a second to register what’s going on. “Are those Marvel Christmas sweaters I see?”

Tango beams with pride. “Mm-hm! Check them out!”

Jimmy tries not to die of embarrassment as Scar oohs and ahs at their sweaters. Tango, on the other hand, seems very pleased with himself and is currently getting a kick out of how red Jimmy’s face is right now.

“Those are absolutely amayzin’!” Scar’s grin quickly melts into a pout. “I wish Grian would have done matching sweaters with me.”

“Speaking of Grian!” Jimmy says, peeking around Scar and towards the kitchen. “I need to figure out what he did with our potatoes!” He ducks around Scar but when he turns to ask Tango if he’s coming, Scar already has an arm slung around his shoulder and is pestering him about his favorite Iron Man movie. He decides to leave Tango to it as payback for making them wear the ridiculous sweaters in the first place. Tango should have known Scar was going to lose his mind over them.

Unlike Jimmy’s apartment, Grian’s house is decorated head-to-toe with Christmas paraphernalia. There’s a tree set up in practically every room, festive wall hangings strung about and those little Christmas village figurines decorating every available surface. Jimmy makes sure to keep an eye above him every time he passes under a doorway just in case Grian decided to break out the mistletoe again.

For every single holiday season that Jimmy has known Grian, he’s always thrown parties for them and their friends to celebrate. And Grian, being the cheeky little prankster he is, used to hang up a fake mistletoe in a random doorway and not tell people about it until two people were under it. He loved watching everyone awkwardly dart around it the whole time and calling people out if they wound up under it with another person, to everyone else’s dismay. But the fun came to an end when last year Grian and Scar wound up under it and he immediately ripped it off and declared there would be ‘no more mistletoe’. So even though Jimmy has no idea if Grian put it back up this year, he’s going to keep being cautious about it.

When Jimmy gets to the kitchen it’s bustling with activity. Skizz and BigB are at the counter sneaking popcorn and chocolates out of the treat bowls while Impulse tries to fend them off, claiming they’ll ‘ruin their appetites’, while Pearl and Mumbo are helping Grian get everything set up for dinner.

Mumbo is the first to spot Jimmy, greeting him with a smile. “Jimmy! Welcome in, bud.”

“Hi Jimmy!” Pearl says, running from one end of the kitchen to the other with a steaming tray in hand.

Grian narrows his gaze at Jimmy from over his shoulder. “Alright, who let this guy in?”

“You invited me,” Jimmy says, planting his hands on his hips. “Now what have you done with my potatoes?”

“Oh, are those yours?” Mumbo says, looking down at the exact dish Jimmy just had stolen from him two minutes ago. “I was wondering where they came from.”

Jimmy huffs. “He just took my potatoes and left me on the doorstep, shivering in the cold!”

Pearl gasps, affronted. “Grian, how could you do that to poor Jimmy?”

“You can’t just make off with someone else’s potatoes, G,” Mumbo says, shaking his head.

Grian rolls his eyes as he dusts off his hands. “I did nothing of the sort—what on earth are you wearing?”

All eyes turn to Jimmy and he feels the room gets ten times warmer.

“That’s… definitely something,” Mumbo says.

Jimmy crosses his arms against his chest, attempting to hide the decal of Captain America. “It’s just a sweater, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tango’s got a matching one.” Jimmy spins around to see Joel standing just behind him, looking smug as he eats directly from a bag of chex cereal.

“Joel!” Pearl cries, snatching the bag of cereal out of his hands. “Those are for the muddy buddies!”

Grian starts giggling which only makes Jimmy’s face heat up even more. “Oh, this I’ve got to see!” He darts out of the kitchen before Jimmy can stop him, telling Pearl to keep an eye on the oven for him.

“Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing,” Jimmy says, hiding his face behind his hands.

Mumbo pats him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, mate! You should have seen the sweater Scar tried to get Grian to wear.” That does not make Jimmy feel any better, seeing as Grian isn’t wearing the silly sweater but Jimmy is.

Despite the fact that Jimmy is wearing the sweater for Tango, he still feels properly flustered about it, especially upon seeing everyone else’s reaction to it.

Impulse walks into the kitchen balancing multiple different bowls of snacks, probably to get them away from Skizz and BigB. He lights up when he sees Jimmy’s sweater. “Hey, I’m glad I’m not the only one who wore a silly Christmas sweater!” Impulse’s is a more classic Christmas sweater, complete with Santa’s sleigh and the eight reindeer, but it’s not nearly as absurd as Jimmy’s.

Joel snickers and Jimmy has half a mind to slap his hand over his friend’s mouth. “You should see the one Tango’s got on, Impulse.”

“Oh?” Impulse says, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“What’s Top wearing?” Skizz asks, popping his head into the kitchen.

“Joel!” Jimmy groans as the two dart off, surely to find Tango so they can pick on Jimmy even more. Jimmy turns and glowers at Joel, who just shrugs in response. “You are the absolute worst.”

Joel grabs a chocolate out of the snack bowl Impulse has newly relocated. “You make it too easy, sometimes, Jim.” Jimmy tries to pretend he’s not listening by watching Pearl stir the soup on top of the stove. “You must really love him if you’re willing to wear that stupid sweater for him.”

Jimmy stiffens up at that. Out of all the things Joel could have said, why that? He can’t have known about Jimmy’s internal struggle with that exact word, right?

Jimmy just deflects from Joel’s statement and attempts to busy himself by helping with the dinner preparations, deciding that it’s going to be a long night.

~ ~ ~

Once everyone else has gotten over the hysterics of Jimmy and Tango’s matching sweaters, the party goes pretty smoothly. They have dinner and there’s barely enough room for them all at the table because of how much food there is, and because Grian’s table was certainly not meant for so many people to be eating at. But it’s nice and cozy even when they’re all squished up next to each other. Jimmy’s sweet potatoes seem to be a big hit, even if Joel and Grian keep denying that they were Jimmy’s doing.

After that it’s time for secret santa presents and Jimmy sits on one end of the couch with Tango pressed into his side. He hadn’t expected it to take so long to go around the circle and dish out all the presents, but considering how many of them were involved in it, he decides that he should have seen it coming. Gem gifts Jimmy an adorable cat calendar and Ren seems to be a big fan of the retro aviators that Jimmy thrifted for him. And Jimmy was correct in assuming Tango had Grian, and Grian’s reaction to the gag gift is absolutely priceless.

There’s a bit of downtime before the next activity wherein Impulse and Skizz attempt to convince Jimmy to come play hockey with them. Normally Jimmy would be happy to come along to an activity with some of Tango’s friends, but he’s seen how these guys play hockey, and it’s no joke. Jimmy came along to watch one of Tango’s last games and he swears he’s never seen the three friends ever get so competitive. But he has to admit, Tango does look good when he plays. Really good. So maybe it’s not a good idea for him to join them, he might just get too distracted by his boyfriend and make them lose the game.

“What were you guys talking about?” Tango asks as he rejoins Jimmy a few minutes later, holding two glasses of sparkling cider. He offers one to Jimmy who takes it gratefully and tries not to get lost in Tango’s eyes before he can answer his question.

Jimmy shrugs and raises his glass. “Oh, nothing. They just were trying to get me to join you guys at hockey.”

Tango’s eyes light up and Jimmy already knows he’s a doomed man. “Oh, Jimmy! You totally should, it would be so much fun!”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I dunno, Tango, I don’t think I’m a hockey guy.” It’s true, but it’s also because his infatuation with Tango will be a huge detriment to the both of them. And he’d never hear the end of it from Tango and their friends if something like that happened while they were on the ice.

“Timmy playing hockey? Now I’d like to see that!” Martyn chuckles as he walks by, a plate of apple pie in hand.

“Martyn’s just jealous ‘cause you’d beat him,” Tango says, voice lowered as he snakes a hand up Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy’s head goes fuzzy as he feels those words dancing on the tip of his tongue again.

Martyn blows a raspberry as he walks away to join a conversation with Scott. “Not a chance, Captain!”

“Get a room, you two,” Scott says with a self-satisfied smirk. Jimmy shakes his head as Tango pulls away from him, frowning. They both know it’s only playful joking, but sometimes it is bothersome when their friends ruin a moment.

Jimmy pats Tango’s shoulder. “How about some apple pie, huh?”

The glimmer returns to Tango’s expression. “Ooh, yes please!”

“Be right back!” Jimmy hands his glass to Tango and makes his way to the kitchen, passing by Cleo and Etho who are cooing over the dog in Pearl’s arms—must be Pearl’s dog, then. Lizzie and Joel are in the kitchen already, sampling the different desserts that have been provided. Jimmy keeps his eyes for the apple pie that he’d seen on Martyn’s plate, only he doesn’t spot it amongst the puddings and plates of cookies.

“Right, who ate all the apple pie?” Jimmy says, going as far as to open the fridge to check for it.

Lizzie looks around with her lips pressed into a thin line. “It looks like it disappeared! I think we need a real hero to figure out who took it!”

Jimmy shakes his head. “Right.” He grabs two paper plates and puts a cookie on each of them, making his way back out to the living room to Tango, only to find everyone grouped up and laughing about something. Jimmy almost wonders if he’s going to find out he’s the butt of another joke, until he realizes that Grian seems to be at the middle of all the fun.

When Jimmy gets up to the clumping of people, he finally gets a look at what they’re all laughing about. Grian’s face is just about as red as the fuzzy sweater he’s suddenly sporting, complete with little photorealistic cats decorating a Christmas tree with working, blinking lights. Scar stands just off to the side in his similar sweater, absolutely beaming.

“Aw, Grian!” Jimmy coos, “you look so cute!”

Grian crosses his arms across his chest, possibly to hide the ugly sweater. “This is all your fault, Tim!”

Scar slides an arm around Grian’s shoulder so that they’re side by side and their sweaters can be admired as they were meant to be—together. “Don’t we look wonderful, Grian? I’m so glad you finally agreed to wear the sweater!”

“Oh, me too!” Pearl says, brandishing her phone and snapping plenty of pictures. Grian tries to grab the phone out of her grasp but she dances away in time, and so begins a stand-off between the two. Jimmy steps away from the chaos, desperately attempting not to drop the frosted cookies onto the nice, clean carpet.

“Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.” Tango takes one of the plates from Jimmy and smiles up at him before taking a bite, keeping eye contact with Jimmy the whole time.

Jimmy wraps an arm around Tango’s side and pulls him close, all the while watching Grian try to unlock Pearl’s phone to distract himself from saying something prematurely. “I guess not.”

It was worth wearing the silly Captain America sweater to see Grian get his own comeuppance, but that doesn’t matter to Jimmy in the long run. It’s making Tango happy, so what’s the harm there?

~ ~ ~

When the party begins fizzling out and people start heading home for the night, Jimmy and Tango offer to stay behind and help clean up. Jimmy doesn’t really mind all that much, and it seems like Grian appreciates the help.

“This thing is so itchy,” Grian complains, scratching at his arms and sides through his sweater. “I don’t know how Scar puts up with it.”

Jimmy shrugs, scrubbing the food grime off the last plate in the sink. “Have you considered that maybe it’s ‘cause he wanted to match with you?”

Grian goes quiet so Jimmy glances at him from over his shoulder. The dirty-blonde has gone still at the other end of the counter, wet rag in hand and a contemplative look on his face.

“I can’t see why he’d want to do that.” Grian shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe he just enjoys looking ridiculous.”

Jimmy dries off his hands and gives a hearty sigh. He can try and help Grian get over some of the embarrassment related to the cat sweater, but he can’t coach Grian through realizing some of the unspoken feelings between him and Scar. It seems to be obvious to everyone but the two of them, so much so that Jimmy has even caught wind of Scott and Martyn making bets on how long it will be before one of them breaks.

“Anything else you need help with?” Jimmy asks, surveying the freshly cleaned kitchen. The dishes are done, the counters are wiped off and the leftovers have already been divvied up, so it seems like the kitchen may be good-to-go.

“You can see if Joel and Lizzie want some help taking down the decorations in the entryway,” Grian offers. Jimmy nods and heads off to the entryway, a bit baffled at how quickly Grian is to take down all the festive decorations. He’s always been a firm believer in leaving them up at least until New Years.

But Joel and Lizzie have the decorations in the entrance handled, and Scar and Mumbo are almost done with cleaning up the dining room, so it appears that it might be time for Jimmy to head home. He just has to find Tango, first, since he hasn’t seen the man since he started helping Grian in the kitchen.

He’s making sure he’s got all his things together when Tango comes into the living room, rather excitably, telling from the grin on his face.

“Jimmy!” Tango says cheerfully. It makes Jimmy’s heart throb with how excited he gets seeing Jimmy, even though they see each other practically everyday.

“Everything is all cleaned up,” Jimmy says, grabbing his coat. “You about ready to go?”

Tango rushes forward and grabs Jimmy’s coat from him. “Hold that thought! There’s something I want to show you.”

Jimmy quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

That’s all he gets to say before Tango’s dragging him through the house. Jimmy isn’t paying much attention to where they’re going, mostly baffled at Tango’s behavior. It’s not until they get to the hallway that Jimmy knows leads to the basement where Tango finally stops. He doesn’t bother to turn the light on, just looking up at Jimmy with a cheshire grin.

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing in this corner of the house?” Jimmy asks, looking to his left and right for an indicator to explain Tango’s strange behavior.

Tango just giggles in response, before taking a step closer to Jimmy and pointing upwards.

It hits Jimmy before he even looks up and sees the plastic plant tacked up on the ceiling.

“Holy moly.” Jimmy hides his face in his hands as Tango’s giggles become louder and more delighted. “I completely forgot about the mistletoe after everything that’s been happening tonight!”

“I’ve been looking for it all night!”

He pulls his hands away from his face, jaw slack with surprise. “I thought Grian swore he wasn’t going to put it up after what happened last year?”

Tango shrugs. “Guess he changed his mind.”

“That would explain why he put it in such a hidden location.”

Tango hums, looking up at Jimmy with a coy smile. “Still waiting on that kiss.”

Jimmy smiles, already leaning in. “Right.”

His eyes flutter shut instantly, their lips meeting with a practiced ease. Jimmy relishes in the feeling of finally having a private moment with Tango. Away from prying eyes, he allows himself to melt into Tango’s embrace, adjusting the angle of his head as Tango’s hand cups the back of his neck.

Jimmy can’t help but smile into the kiss, his hands instinctively framing either side of Tango’s waist. His thumbs travel below the hemline of Tango’s Iron Man sweater and press against his skin, which elicits a huffy laugh out of Tango at the sensation. Jimmy’s heart soars the longer the kiss goes on, the gentle yet firm slide of lips making his head swim with affection.

All Jimmy can think right now is I love you, I love you, I love you. He might just implode on himself if he holds it in any longer, so he makes up his mind—he’s going to say it right now.

Tango laughs affectionately when they part, his warm breath ghosting over Jimmy’s lips and sending shivers down his spine. Tango’s thumb traces the curve of Jimmy’s cheekbone delicately and the most accurate way he can describe how Tango is looking at him right now is as if Jimmy hung the moon and the stars for him. Jimmy is absolutely, positively smitten.

He loosens his grip on Tango’s waist and opens his mouth to finally say it, but someone else turns the corner before he can form the words.

“Hey Jim, Grian wants you to take home some of that fruitcake Cleo brought—” Joel freezes once he realizes he’s walked in on them, and Jimmy levels him with an unimpressed look. But Joel doesn’t even begin to muster out an apology, because once he spots the decor in the doorway above them, he’s running off to tell Grian that someone finally found the mistletoe.

Tango groans, canting forward and burying his face in Jimmy’s chest. “We can’t have one moment without being interrupted, can we?” He looks back up at Jimmy with that signature smile of his and Jimmy absolutely melts.

“I love you,” he says before he can stop himself. The words slip past his teeth easily, like second nature. They’re monumental and carry so much weight, yet Jimmy doesn’t shy away from the admission. He’s been dying to tell Tango this for so long that finally getting it out there is a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Tango’s chest rumbles against Jimmy's with the soft murmur of a laugh. “I love you, too.”

Tango goes to kiss Jimmy again but Jimmy stops him, gently pushing on his chest to put some space between them. Tango looks up at him with a sudden confusion painted on his expression, but Jimmy just stares at him.

“No, Tango,” he says, insistent, “I love you.” He says it more forcefully this time, like it will make Tango understand that he really, truly means it.

Tango cocks his head, brow still furrowed like he doesn’t know what Jimmy’s playing at. “Yeah, and I love you, too.”

Jimmy stares, slack-jawed and mortified. “That's not— I don’t—” He groans in frustration, burying his reddening face in his hands. Why is Tango acting so nonchalant about this? It’s a huge deal to Jimmy!

“What? What’s the face for?” Tango asks, worry wrought in his tone. He gently places his hands on Jimmy’s arms and it only makes the affection Jimmy holds for him grow.

Jimmy huffs, pulling his hands away from his face yet avoiding Tango’s gaze. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that all day, working myself up to it and finding the perfect moment and—” He shrugs flippantly, feeling his face become warmer and warmer. When he looks at Tango, his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wide in shock, like he’s realized what he’s just done.

“Oh no,” Tango says with a giggle. “Really?” Jimmy nods, embarrassed out of his mind. Tango practically shrieks with laughter, coming closer and linking his hands behind Jimmy’s neck. “You’re adorable, Jimmy.” He goes up on his tip-toes and begins aggressively peppering Jimmy’s face with kisses.

Jimmy fights back the giggles but is ultimately unable to hold them back. “Stop it, stop it.” Tango starts giggling too and nearly loses his balance and knocks them both over, but Jimmy is able to right the both of them before they hit the floor. They’re only laughing harder now, and holding the other close. Jimmy revels in the closeness of their embrace, and the fact that he finally said it, and got a positive response. But, against his better nature, Jimmy doesn’t quite feel convinced just yet.

“You didn’t say it just because I did?” Jimmy asks, pulling away from the embrace so that he can look Tango in the eyes. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I swear.”

Tango stares up at him with a blank expression. “Are you kidding?” he asks, deadpan. Jimmy shakes his head, genuinely worried for the answer. It comes in the form of Tango grabbing him by the side of his face and grinning from ear-to-ear. “I’m crazy about you! Hello? Matching sweaters, the mistletoe, the fact that we’re literally moving in together?”

Jimmy laughs as Tango jostles his cranium around. “Okay, okay! I got it.”

Tango smiles contentedly, hands now traveling down Jimmy’s chest. “And don’t you forget it.”

As if slotting into place, Jimmy ducks down and fits his lips against Tango’s. This kiss is gentle and slow, timed perfectly to the steady beating of Jimmy’s heart. He feels lighter, and his chest is filled with the warmth of knowing that he is loved by the very same man he is in love with. He grips the fabric of Tango’s sweater, smiling through the kiss at the romantic nature of their matching sweaters. They’re reminders that Jimmy will always have a piece of Tango with him, and the same for Tango.

Tango breaks the kiss just long enough to mumble against Jimmy’s lips, “I love you.”

And Jimmy smiles, heart full and more happy than in his wildest dreams. He pulls Tango as close to him as humanly possible, because he can never get enough of him. “I love you, too.”

#trafficshipping #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #fanfic #fic #my writing #mine #christmas #i love this fic so tumblr can have it too!

38 notes · View notes