#Tinsel T Townes
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hello tinsel my old friend
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Silver Lining 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes
Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
Your phone buzzes as your niece bounces dangerously close to the tree. Your sister's in town with her two kids, but neither her or her husband seem to care much about watching them. Somehow, you're tasked with that and unsure what to do about their endless energy. You envy them truly so you just kind of let them go.
You hear your mother and sister chattering in the kitchen, her husband is in the garage with your stepdad, and as always, you're the odd one out. You slide your phone out and check the ID. It's Bucky, technically your new boss. You notice you've missed a few texts from him. Great. Not a good start. You were supposed to tell everyone at dinner about your new gig.
You answer, watching the kids without much thought, play tug of war over a string of tinsel. You should stop them but it'll just snap anyhow. You clear your throat and put your hand to your cheek, feeling the nervousness warm your skin.
"Hello, Mr. B-Barnes," you eke out.
"Bucky, it's fine," he sounds slightly irritated but you don't think you've heard a different tone from him so far, "you're busy?"
"Well, uh, n-not exactly," you shrug, "j-just family s-stuff."
"Family... so you won't be able to go over the script? I just got your edits."
"U-uh, y-yeah, if you want to, I c-can grab my l-laptop," you offer and turn your back to the room.
"I'd prefer it if we could meet. I'm more of a face-to-face person."
"O-old-fashioned," you comment. You regret that he exhales deeply on the other end. "S-sorry, I o-only meant--"
"You're right. I'm old-fashioned. Not a bad thing," he insists, "so, is it too late? Should we find another time?"
"T-tomorrow?"
"I'm going out of town for the weekend," he huffs, "I really want to have this ready to record when I get back."
"R-right," you chew your thumb, a sudden bawling tears through the air as you spin around and find your nephew stuck under the tree. Oh no! "Oh, sh-shoot."
You cover the microphone as you lower the phone. Your sister rushes in, your mother at her heels as they squeal. You watch helpless as she fishes Casey from under the fir branches, "you were supposed to be watching them," she accuses.
"I-I was?"
"Oh, come on, you know, I barely get a minute to myself and you can't just keep an eye on two kids? Ugh, no job and you can't be bothered just to look," she snarls.
They're not your kids. You flutter your lashes as you fight back tears and that smart remark.
"I actually h-have a c-call from m-my new job," you hold out your phone and wiggle it at her, "I d-don't b-babysit f-for free."
She scoffs and your mom tuts as she shakes her head. They don't even care. No congratulations but they can constantly throw your unemployment in your face. You take a breath and roll your eyes.
"S-sorry, I g-got to go," you turn and drag your feet out of the room.
"Well, she didn't say she had a job," your mother mutters as your sister grumbles back, "about time."
You ignore them as you head upstairs. It's better you let your sister bask in her spotlight. You weren't looking forward to dinner anyhow. Not for anything more than the hunger groaning in your stomach. You put the phone back to your ear.
"A-are you there? S-sorry, I g-got distracted."
"Really, if you're busy--"
"N-no, I n-need to get a-away," you say.
You're silent at the confession. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic. You go down the hall to your room and find a sweater.
"Well, uh, how about we meet at the cafe? Middle ground. You like that place?"
"Up t-to you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"You need a ride?" He asks, to your surprise.
You pause as you grip the bright pink wool in your hand, "N-no, I'll f-find my way." You swallow and lay the sweater on your bed, "uh, b-bye."
You hang up before he can respond. You're embarrassed. He probably heard all of that and more. And now you've gone and betrayed your stupid self to him. Of all people. He doesn't need to know you're a complete failure. You hate to accept it but you have to; you need him more than he needs you. So maybe you'll just change the damn thesis after all.
🩶
You get to the coffee shop with snow caked on your hat and in the collar of your coat. You shake it off just outside and enter, your cheeks and nose kissed with the cold. As much as you love the winter, it's a bit much. You let out a brrr as you pull of your mitts and tuck them inside your hat. You hear your name and glance over. It's him, he's beat you there.
You tramp over to him as the snow melts off your boots and you wave, setting your bag in the chair as you unbutton your coat.
"Didn't m-mean t-to take too l-long," you say.
"Hot chocolate shouldn't be that cold," he assures you. You wince and look at the table. Sure enough, there's a second cup.
"O-oh, you d-didn't have t-to--"
"It's fine, not a big deal," he shakes his head.
You nod and hang your coat over the back of the chair and tuck away your mittens and hat in the sleeve. You sit and bring your bag into your lap. You flip up the flap and pull out your laptop, chilly from the walk there. You sense him watching you. You leave your computer shut as you lay it out and reach for the hot chocolate. You give it a taste and hum, thanking him.
"Sounds like a rough day," he comments.
"Y-yeah, b-but you d-don't have to w-worry about it," you assure him, glancing around evasively. When is he going to start being mean?
"You got kids?" He asks.
You have to hold in your laughter. "Sister's k-kids," you explain, "n-not for m-me."
"Ah," he accepts and reaches for his coffee, "right. Makes sense."
You keep your eyes down. You don't want to get too personal. Feels like he's just being polite, likely because he feels bad for you, not about his previous behavior.
"Don't got any either," he leans forward, his thick fingers hugging his cup, "so, your new draft was... great."
"R-really?" You lift your gaze meekly.
"Yeah, yeah, I just have a few notes," he sits back to bend down to the bag at his feet, "thanks for coming so last minute.”
You open your laptop, trying not to show any emotion. It's kind of him but you just don't believe it's anything other than pity.
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#drabbles#series#silver lining#silverfox#au#mcu#marvel#winter soldier#avengers
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Eddie needs Dio's "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", literally any scenario or genre will do.
There are still two spots left in my twelve days event if you’d like to request something - no need for it to be Christmas themed, winter activities/stories are more than welcomed too. The playlist so far is linked at the end of the story. Let me know what you think, any interaction is so appreciated and loved!
Summary: Modern Eddie POV (but just in terms of the bar crawl kind of thing), mentions of drinking / puking (not too detailed, but a little sorry), Eddie is Christmas Eve bar crawling with Steve and Robin when he meets you, mentions of the holiday Christmas being celebrated
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Day 05 | Track 05: “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” by DIO
How Steve and Robin convinced him to go on a bar crawl was beyond him.
And not just any bar crawl - but a Christmas Eve bar crawl.
Sexy santa's, “sit on my lap and tell me what you want for christmas’ ”, bright red cocktails with whipped cream and green beer, “I'm on the nice list but tonight I'm on the naughty’s”, and so much tinsel in people's hair and beards that somehow managed to get all over him.
Ugly Christmas sweaters, themed on themed food, drinks with puns to match the music that had been bopping overhead at every. single. bar. - and people sloppy drunk screaming happy holidays at him or trying to hold up mistletoe in his face.
And as they walked up the block to the last bar of the evening, Eddie watched a girl puke her absolute guts out, bright green in a sea of white snow and he groaned.
"Guys, please, can we call it a night? I'll order us an uber-"
Robin gasped from her place on Steve's back (claiming to be too tired to walk, but not too tired to miss the last bar and Steve being just tipsy enough to offer her a piggyback ride with a smile instead of a look of disdain).
Steve elbowed him, grinning, a high pitched voice surely mocking Robin as he exclaimed, "But this one has karaoke!"
Eddie groaned again and Robin gasped again and hit Steve's shoulder, "Go, go! What are you waiting for Steve! We can sing Last Christmas if we hurry!"
Steve started walking faster, turning backwards to face Eddie as Robin hit him repeatedly. He called out loudly, "Come on Munson, you heard the lady! Last one there has to carry her all the way back home!"
Eddie hung his head and followed, as much as he didn't wanna go, he was having fun with Steve and Robin and there was potential to get some really good blackmail videos to use against the two if they really did do karaoke.
And so, that's how he found himself leaning up against the wall grinning ear to ear at Steve screaming that Bruce Springsteen version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Eddie couldn’t wait to show the kids the video.
And he had to admit, Steve wasn't actually that bad, and Robin holding up her cell phone with a video of a lighter in front of him made it even better.
When Steve finished, bowing to his small applause and high fiving Robin as she pretended to echo a cheer and a chant of his name, Eddie watched a group of girls pushing one of their friends towards the stage who was shaking their head profusely.
The opening wailing of a guitar started and Eddie perked up. This was not the average Christmas song played on the radio.
He watched you stumble onto the stage, glaring at the group of your friends as you took the microphone from Steve.
Dressed in a Die Hard t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots with a Santa hat, Eddie was pretty sure his heart stopped beating when he realized it was the DIO version of the song.
Your eyes wide, mouth open like a fish, and nothing came out as you stared at the people occupying the small bar. Eddie felt his body moving, felt his heart in his fingertips, it was just like singing with Corroded Coffin, it wouldn’t be that bad.
You know, except he was pretty tipsy, it was way more than only five drunk people, and you were holding the same mic as him, and he didn’t have his comfort blanket of a guitar to hold.
When he stepped onto the small stage and started singing, you grinned and eventually joined in with him, screaming out in a voice that he didn't understand could fit inside of you, "To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray…”
A duet like he’d never sung before, clutching the mic together, he was mesmerized by the way you scrunched your eyes closed as you absolutely wailed out notes perfectly and when the guitar solo happened and you pretended to play while headbanging he almost got down on one knee right then and there.
When the song ended, Eddie and you were both breathless, foreheads almost touching, you bit your lip and backed away shyly, falling back into your group of friends who grouped around you screaming and cheering about how good it was.
Steve patted him on the shoulder, grinning and then pointed to Robin slumped over on the table, "Time to pay the piper my friend."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "How did she fall asleep during that," he grunted as Robin pushed his face away, kicking at him and he mumbled, "Jesus, Buckley, help a guy out here."
She moaned, "I don't want to go! I wanna sing..." She hiccuped and moaned again, "Last Christmas. I didn't get to sing Last Christmas."
Steve and Eddie shared a look and then Steve held her hands down as Eddie grabbed at her waist and she kicked him in the knee.
Eddie could feel his ears getting red as he clenched his jaw, "Woman, if you don't-"
She pointed at him, forehead on the table, "Steve can carry me. You go with that cutie."
Eddie rubbed his temple and sighed, watching Steve chug water next to him, "Harrington can't carry you right now. Buckley, get on my back right now or I'm leaving both of your asses here and I'm taking your Christmas present back."
She hiccuped again, peeking one eye open too, "You got me a present?"
He rolled his eyes, "Yes. A good one too. Now," he tapped his rings on the table, "Up."
She sighed and put her arms out like a zombie and Eddie hiked her up on to his back as she huffed at Steve, "I can't believe you told me to have that Claus-mopolition at the last bar-" She kicked out her foot at Steve who stumbled next to Eddie, "Or how you convinced me to get these boots. They hurt!"
Steve knocked her skull with his knuckles lightly, "You ordered that drink because the bartender who was trying to sell it to you had green eyes, and-" Steve spun, walking out of the bar backwards, "You asked me if your butt looked good in those boots and I said yes and-"
Robin hissed, "Steve-"
Eddie laughed, "They do make your butt look good Buck."
She flicked his ear and he could tell she was rolling her eyes, drunk, but not enough to lose her sarcastic spirit, "In your dreams shitbirds."
Steve placed a hand over his heart like he'd been wounded when Eddie heard, "Wait! DIO karaoke crasher!"
Eddie turned to see you running down the sidewalk, pushing through the mess of sloppy drunk people. Robin slid from his shoulders as you reached them.
You were breathless, holding up a finger to your neck and a one second signal and Eddie was grinning so hard he thought his face would pop.
He rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, I just thought-"
You waved his apology away and stepped forward, "I wanted to say thank you to my knight in shining leather."
Barely any space between your bodies and Eddie felt his face heat up as you reached into your back pocket and held up mistletoe and kissed his cheek.
You whispered, "Thank you."
You slid his jacket sleeve up as you pulled the cap of a sharpie off with your mouth and wrote a number on his wrist, signing it with your name. You winked at him as you turned away from him with your lip between your teeth as your friends all cheered and cat called and you flipped them off.
Eddie was pretty sure he melted into a puddle right there on the sidewalk as he watched you walk away, nothing would ever ruin a moment so-
He turned to see Steve holding Robin's hair back with his head facing the sky as he shook it, mumbling something about no matter how many times she promised to watch Star Wars would he say yes to a bar crawl again.
Twelve Days of Christmas Playlist:
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#modern!eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fic#stranger things fanfiction#twelve days of christmas
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One Piece Advent Calender Door 5
Today awaits you some time with the simp and cook, Sanji!
Door 5: Tinsel or rather socks
Coming back from the Town with bags in arms, you went straight to the kitchen, to see Sanji occupying the table. “Perhaps I should evade the Kitchen. I´m back, Sanji” “Goddess~~~ welcome back! What did you got there?” “Ingredients for cooking. You know, Christmas cookies and stuff” “CAN I HELP YOU WITH IT~~~~”, Sanji began to swoon around you, as you heard the soft >Mellorine< around you. “Oh why yes, when you are there when I bake, certainly”
“Ah, my beloved Goddess! You warm this poor mans heart up like no tomorrow!!!” A short laughter passed your lips. “Oh why thank you...say, where can I store these up so-” “Oh why, certainly! I already prepared” You followed him into the cooking area to a little cabinet, where your name was written on. “Your own special little baking cabinet~” “Oh, Sanji. How kind of you”, hugging the blond cook, he melted in your embrace. “Thank you”, pressing a fleeting kiss on his cheek, you began to store your stuff away as you heard a thumb. Turning around, Sanji lay flat on the tiles, no emotions-whatsoever.
“oops”, you smiled wryly before “Sanji what is with all this stuff on the table?” “Oh, I deciaded to make some decorations!”, he smiled at you, jumping up. “Did you also-” “Not really. But I remember my Mom made me a Christmas stocking. For Reiju also. So I wanted to make one for all of us” “Aww, that is so sweet! Do you need some help`?” “Yeah”, he smiled and the both of you sat down. “Oh, would you like some hot tea?” “Uh, yes please” “Coming, my beloved~~~”, Sanji swooned back to the kitchen. You looked at the half-sewn orange sock. “You can sew?” “Oh why yes! My Mom taught it to me...well a little. The rest did the old Geezer. Here you go, Madmoiselle~”, he presented you the tea. “Thank you kindly, Sanji.” Taking a sip you looked at the different fabrics. “You already have each name pinned on the colors?” “Yes. Oh. What would you like? I wasn´t sure on either a pretty blue, an innocent white or gold for the goddess you are~~” “Well, my color is a gentle sky blue” “But while doing your magic you look so graceful and elegant like a white rose~” “Now don´t make this harder for me”, you looked at him with a soft pout. He smiled softly at you. “I take the blue one. but we could use the white to make a border around the sock” “Oh! A nice idea!” “Right?”
And so you began to draw the socks and cut them neatly out while Sanji sewed them together. “I wish I could help you with it but I´m too bad at sewing” “Oh, Don´t worry~ You did plenty by drawing and cutting it for me” A little sigh escaped you before you played with your finger as Needle and thread came together, moving your finger in the air as the needle began to stitch, making you smile and soon, it was done. “My Goddess, what did you do?” “Tadaa~ I gave it the last touch on giving each border a name”, smiling you held one out with Luffy´s name on it. “So neat and pretty” “Thank you”
“Why did this rubber idiot get you?! What did he do to deserve such a golden girlfriend?! Such a sweetheart!”, he began to sob. “Aww, Sanji, heads up. There is a woman in the world for you. And for you all alone! You will meet her. You deserve happiness” Big puppy eyes looked at you. “And if you really like one, please, just be yourself. She will love every side of you” “YOU ARE A GODDESS!!”, he shouted. “How can someone be so sweet and kind and gentle, yet so powerful and haaaa~~”, he began to swoon. “sanji, the socks” “Oh, sorry sorry”, he smiled and went back to sewing.
Soon, you had 11 stockings, each in their own color and with their names. “Uh! They look nice” “Thank you again for helping me, Madmoiselle~”, Sanji took your hand and kissed it softly, making you smile softly. “Sanji, it was my pleasure”, walking to the door, you just stepped a foot outside. “Oh, Sanji?” “Yes?” “Come here for a sec” he directly came over. “What is it?” You pointed to the misteltoe.
A huge blush came over the cook, swallowing. “W-Whoa h-hey ok, ok! Sanji, cool. Be cool”, he breathed out and you gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Keep it ”, you whispered, leaving the wide eyed cook back in the kitchen before you heard a lout thumb, again.
He fainted.
#luffy#luffy x oc#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#monkey d. luffy#one piece#straw hat luffy#anime and manga#straw hat crew#straw hat pirates#platonic friendship sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#sanji#one piece sanji
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Great Scott! The holiday season, specifically the winter holiday season, is upon us! So why not indulge in some short, sweet holiday stories and go pick up a copy of Happy Howlidays! Happy Howlidays is the flash fiction anthology (edited by yours truly) that features stories from seventeen different authors. There are stories that feature the Christmas Holiday, Epiphany, the Winter Solstice, and even an Accidental Hanukkah!
My story "Tinsel's Town" is featured, along with stories written by Cyrano, Field T. Mouse, Thomas "Faux" Steele, Rob MacWolf, Malina Douglas, Melissa Theys, Frances Pauli, Nenekiri Bookwyrm, Renee Carter Hall, Sarah Doeberiner, K.C. Shaw, Packwolf Lupestripe, Sofox, R.C. Capasso, Yarrow, and Ziegenbock!
Seriously, the anthology was so fun to work on, and I loved being able to work with these authors on their stories. I highly recommend picking up a copy and reading these stories for yourself.
https://thurstonhowlpub.storenvy.com/products/36440494-happy-howlidays-a-furry-flash-fiction-christmas-anthology
#books#happy holidays#Happy Howlidays#furry writing#furry#furry writers#flash fiction#christmas#winter solstice#epiphany#anthology#furries
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back to december (all the time)
Elain x Lucien (T) | Read on AO3
First and foremost, the happiest holidays and a wonderful Christmas to the lovely @writtenonreceipts, whom I’ve had the honour to write for this year, as part of the ACOTAR Secret Santa Exchange! 💖 @acotargiftexchange
What started as Christmas fluff in the English countryside turned into a bunch of angst, but I feel like that’s still somehow representative of the holidays?? Nonetheless, I promise there is a happy ending and some Christmas magic to come still. The fourth and final part of the fic will be posted on New Year’s Eve, just in time for my personal favorite night of the year.
Writing this has been an absolute joy for me, and I’m so glad it introduced me to you. I hope you enjoy it! All the love!
Many thanks and much love to @iftheshoef1tz and @houseofhurricane for their help as betas allll the encouragement ✨
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back to december (all the time)
They are old friends, you could say. In the way that people who grew up in the same small town in the English countryside are. In the way that people who’ve known each other for longer than they haven’t are. In the way that people who’ve seen each other grow and change and fall apart are. But they’re not those people anymore. The Elain and Lucien standing here now haven’t known each other for years.
Lucien is always searching. Elain is afraid to be found. When life happens, they have to find themselves before making their way back to each other. Thirteen years of twists and turns, hard decisions, old dreams, and new hopes.
elucien | modern AU | teen & up | 3/4 parts
I. december 1996
When Elain steps into her childhood home for the very first time in two years, music is already playing, and tinsel, gold and silver and all kinds of sparkly, is spilling out of at least half a dozen boxes scattered over the hallway floor.
There are four pairs of boots drying on the rack, which must mean that everyone else has already arrived to Stow-on-the-Wold.
Elain had hoped she would beat her sisters and their husbands here, have some time alone to mentally prepare for the days to follow, but despite the anxiety blooming in her chest, she can’t help but smile.
She hasn’t seen Feyre and Nesta in months, although they all live within a ten-mile radius now, and the last few times they had met, she had been in a rush, or tired, or upset with Graysen.
She still is. Tired and upset with Graysen, that is. But she’s missed them both like crazy, and at least for a few moments, it feels like that’s enough to take her mind from everything she left back in London.
When Feyre had called her, only a week ago, and asked if she were willing to come home - home home - for the holidays, she had immediately said yes, all the reasons she usually avoids Stow pushed to the back of her mind in favor of a week away from her job, her relationship, her neverending list of responsibilities.
A loud crashing sound in the back of the house stops her train of thought before she sinks into sorrow, and annoyance, and Oh God, I’m just avoiding my life away—
“Jesus fuck,” Elain thinks she can hear, and the following huffs and puffs, desynchronized and loud enough to be heard from where she stopped at the entrance, tell her Rhysand and Cassian must definitely be struggling in the living room.
“Elain! Finally!” Feyre squeals from the kitchen doorway.
Before she knows it, Elain is pulled into an uncomfortably tight hug, her sister’s lilac and pear perfume enveloping her, making her chest light up with joy. She wraps her arms around Feyre’s shoulders, trembling fingers digging into her back, and tries to blink the moisture away from her eyes.
By the time they untangle, Feyre is the one actually crying, big fat tears making her appear younger than she is. Elain gives her sister a once-over, and her breath catches when she reaches Feyre’s round stomach, barely covered by the cream jumper she is wearing, her seventh month of pregnancy obvious in every possible way.
She’s known Feyre and Rhysand are having a baby, of course. She had been there when Feyre had made the announcement, all their closest friends gathered around their giant living room; but seeing her now, like this, makes everything painfully real.
“Oh my god, you’re so pregnant,” Elain lets out on a breathy laugh, eyes wet again.
What she means to say is I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’ve missed so much.
I’m sorry I haven’t been there to see this happening.
Read in full on AO3.
#acotar secret santa 2022#elucien#elain and lucien#elain archeron#lucien vanserra#acotar#acotar fanfiction#SJM#modern au
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Takes a solid few minutes for the door to open and, in a big house that would make some kind of sense but even making Hollywood money, there’s no way this hotel room’s big enough to get lost in. Starts to wonder if he took her advice. Packed up his gear and whatever crew he’s got and tore out of this town like he’s being chased --- although, given his luck with the supernatural? He might very well be in the crosshairs of something big and scary and fangy.
She’s about to cut her losses when the handle moves and the door finally opens, “Damn. Long walk from the AC?” peering around him into the room because, frankly, nosy as hell, “Thought you might of learnt your lesson. Hi-tailed it back to Tinsel Town.”
--- c l o s e d s t a r t er f o r l a n c e ---
@demcnsinmymind
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KTH: Christmas / Holiday Season AU
List of all Taehyung fics under 'Christmas / Holiday Season' AU:
* s - contains smut
* Last updated: 30/04/2023
D R A B B L E S
Candy Cane by hamsterclaw s friends au
Summary: You wake up with your head in Taehyung’s lap, and he shows you how his dick is as sweet as candy.
Day 1 by minisugakoobies s rivals to lovers, coworkers au
Summary: Your work rival has an unusual Secret Santa gift for you this year.
Good Sportsmanship by agustdealer strangers to lovers
Summary: You’re on a mission this Festivus. And as it turns out, so is Taehyung.
* “Guess we’re sharing that twin bed.” by kpopfanfictrash college au
* Kissing in the snow by breadoffoxy friends to lovers
* “Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, love.” by breadoffoxy established relationship
* “Tinsel is the weed on Christmas’ front lawn.” by kpopfanfictrash coffee shop au
* “Where on EARTH did you get that sweater?” by breadoffoxy friends to lovers
O N E S H O T S
A Dash of Love by btsmosphere wc~11k / chef au, restaurant au
Summary: Your whole life, you’ve hoped to get a job at your idol’s restaurant. It finally comes, with the added bonus of the executive chef and your new best friend, Taehyung (who you definitely don’t have a crush on), but what if it’s all too good to be true? You and Taehyung try new things.
A Kiss of Your Elixir by scriptaed wc~3.5k / established relationship
Summary: After a year of holding hands and sheepish, overjoyed blushing, your boyfriend finally requests the possibility of a first kiss. Clueless as to how to grant your wholesome relationship that one kiss, an unexpected mistletoe comes to rescue the both of you on behalf of his birthday wish disguised as a Christmas miracle.
All I Want for Christmas by hazytaezy s wc~3.8 / friends to lovers
Summary: Taehyung's hands would make a very nice necklace indeed.
Besos Navideños by jjungkookislife s wc~25k / exes to lovers, brother's best friend
Summary: A Christmas wedding, a house full of childhood friends, and an ex-boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong? Dread fills you the moment you’re back in town for Alea’s wedding, and not even your best friend, Hoseok, can cheer you up with his rendition of Christmas carols on the ride home. After a messy breakup, seeing your ex, Taehyung, flares up your fight-or-flight response. Will you two be able to keep it cordial, or will this wedding turn into an absolute disaster?
Cheap Skate by gukslut s wc~25.2k / established relationship
Summary: Granny Park’s Gossip: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.
Exchanging Heat by jinfizz s wc~25.1k / college au, roommates au
Summary: When your roommate drops out right before the end of the semester and leaves you high and dry for next month’s rent, you’re forced to turn to craigslist to find an absolute stranger to save you from financial ruin. The shy Korean exchange student you find to replace her seems nice enough despite the language barrier, but what will happen when the heat cuts off one fateful evening, and you’re forced to turn to each other for warmth? Alternatively: “I want to sleep with you.” ‘You what?”
Fire Meets Frost by luxekook s wc~5.8k / exes to lovers
Summary: Just like a bad holiday song, you gave Taehyung your heart last Christmas. Only in this scenario, he broke it eight months later. Now you’re both back at that same damn holiday party where you first met one year ago and you’re just praying for you and your heart to leave in one piece.
Four Weeks by gukyi wc~20k / enemies to lovers, college au, roommates au
Summary: Four weeks. That’s how long you’re trapped on campus after missing your flight home because of a grossly overtime final. And as you’re walking around your empty campus, thinking that you could sink no lower, you find yourself alone in the art building with a certain freshman-year-dorm-neighbor from hell, and he’s got an offer that you don’t think you can refuse: he’s staying on campus this winter break as well, and he’s happy to let you live with him. Or, four weeks is all it takes to fall in love.
Home for the Holidays by triptaech s wc~5k / resident assistant!Taehyung, college au
Summary: Winter was cold and lonely, but thankfully he received a Christmas miracle.
If You Don't Ask Me to Stay by yoongiphoria s wc~4k / angst, FWB, exes au
Summary: Every December, you go back to your hometown - for the one person who is always waiting.
Let It Snow by suga-kookiemonster s wc~18.8k / FWB
Summary: It all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend Taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. Simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. Well…that’s definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. Now? Now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.
Let's Try Again by kth1 s wc~7.1k / pregnant!reader, established relationship
Summary: Taehyung, your husband and father of your child(ren), continues to lead a teasing game which consists of persistence, dedication, dirty talk, and more. He just wants to try again!… and again, and again, and again.
My Favorite Things [AO3] by goodsoop s wc~2.6k / friends au
Summary: Your friend Taehyung, won’t stop moaning over your holiday cookies, dropping compliments left and right has you dripping in the kitchen.
Present Without a Bow [AO3] by goodsoop s wc~2.2k / established relationship
Summary: When Taehyung agreed to spend Christmas at your house, it slipped his mind that Santa might know he was there. Lucky for Tae you have a variety of gifts lined up for him.
Rockabye by sugaurora wc~8.9k / flower shop au
Summary: With the sting of your divorce renewed by the winter chill in the air, you certainly weren’t looking for anything like love this Christmas. But even flowers can blossom from deep within the snow.
Secret Santa by ttttaehyungie wc~6.2k / friends to lovers
Summary: What you thought was an ingenious plan to figure out the perfect gift for your secret santee turns out to take a whole bunch of wrong turns, but with the best outcomes.
Snow is Falling by bangtsblossom s wc~5.9k / established relationship
Summary: Spending the week with your fiancés family for the holidays meant that you wouldn’t get much alone time together… so when everyone was out, you decided to make the most of it.
Sugar Plum Wishes by army-author wc~12.7k / fantasy au
Summary: You wish for a boyfriend for Christmas. A passing winter fairy decides to grant your wish…
Taste of Love by vopegist wc~2.4k / strangers to lovers
Summary: Getting to taste food from almost every restaurant or cafe in the city during holiday season sounds like a great idea when you’re not a food critic. But you are, and you can do nothing but come to terms with the fact that every place you would have to visit will offer you the same old boring holiday experience. As it turns out, Goût d'amour is different.
The Holi-Date by kpopfanfictrash s wc~40.5k / fake dating, neighbors au
Summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.
Under Wraps by jungkxook s wc~15k / enemies to lovers, fake dating
Summary: There’s nothing you and Taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for Christmas. Having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. But when Taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.
Winter Bear by army-author wc~8.3k / fantasy au, shape-shifter au
Summary: When you enter a toy store looking for a gift for your niece, you don’t expect to go home with a teddy bear that can shape-shift. But this Christmas seems to be a little stranger than normal...
X and O by army-author wc~11.4k / fake dating, teacher au
Summary: You accidentally send ‘xo’ at the end of a text to your daughter’s teacher, and he seems to get the wrong idea…
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Salman Khan was clicked arriving for Aayush Sharma's birthday bash last evening
Salman Khan was clicked arriving for Aayush Sharma’s birthday bash last evening
Now that the Diwali celebrations are over, last evening was all about Aayush Sharma’s big birthday bash in the city. All his closest friends from tinsel town were seen making an appearance in style.Salman Khan was seen in a casual look as he stopped and posed for the paps before heading in. He was seen in a comfy blue t-shirt paired with brick red pants. Check out the pictures…
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Rental Structure in Hyderabad
Hyderabad city is a blend of a wide range of emotions such as Telugu Cinema, Innovative culture, the yummiest biryani, the best place for shopping, and delightful momentums such as Charminar.
Hyderabad city is filled with advanced and excellent infrastructure has ended up being delightful for people to live in. Hyderabad is the best metropolitan city in India. If you are looking to know the top most luxurious and expensive areas in Hyderabad? Here is the list of the luxurious areas of rental structure in Hyderabad.
Banjara Hills
Banjara Hills, is the city's north-western edges, and it's connected to one of the most luxurious areas in Hyderabad. Banjara Hills is well known for its harmony, tranquillity, and city’s most prominent café, shopping centres, and educational institutions. This region is definitely one of the most delightful regions to live-in in Hyderabad.
Schools, parks, universities, cafés, retail shopping centers, banks and ATMs, and emergency clinics. Banjara Hills is the poshest region and it remains the most dazzling region. Let’s take a look at the best places in Hyderabad.
Milestones: Taj Deccan Hotel, Taj Banjara Hotels, Hotels Taj Krishna, Ohris Banjara, Barbeque Nation, Chinese Pavilion.
Private House Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 9300-17600 for each sq. Ft.
Lease - 27000-45000
Multistorey Apartment Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 5800 - 10000 for each sq. Ft.
Lease - 26000-43000
Jubilee Hills:
Jubilee Hills is an elegant region, situated between IT's Hyderabad IT of HITEC City and one of the rich regions in Hyderabad. It is known as the India's rich business locations.
Everyone’s favourite Telugu Film Industry center of Film Nagar, prominently known as Tinsel Town or Tollywood, is located in Jubilee Hills. This area is known for the well prominent people's houses such as Telugu big names (Akkineni Nagarjuna, Allu Arjun, Chiranjeevi, Prabhas, Vijay Deverakonda, and so on), and government officials.
Jubliee Hills reliably offers the best framework, assets in the city and is additionally one of the top regions in Hyderabad. This area comprises the best Schools, universities, banks, ATMs, eateries, clinics, parks, gardens, and different assets and conveniences can be seen here. NTV, CVR News, TV 9, T New, Rainbow Media, Mahaa TV, etc. Jubilee Hills is all around associated with different parts of the city, depending upon the company. MMTS Train station is near HITEC City.
Milestones: Hyderabad Gymkhana, Film Nagar Club, KBR National Park, Sita Ramaswamy Temple, B.R. Ambedkar Open University.
Private House Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 27000-15000 for each sq. Ft.
Lease - 30600-43500
Multistorey Apartment Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 7800 - 14400 for each sq. Ft.
Lease - 26600-44800
HITEC City
This is the top most IT hub featuring software companies. It likewise flaunts a hospital arena and a shopping mall that gives a comfortable and helpful way of life for its residents. HITEC City is a 200-hectare high point located two miles from the Jubilee Hills.
HITEC City is Hyderabad's posh region and a spot ideal for IT groups. The area isn't just a center for IT in the city, however, it’s a center for medical care and financial services. For the fabulous flat for sale in Hyderabad, Hitec city is the best place.
Multistorey Apartment Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 6200 - 9800 for every sq. Ft.
Lease - 27000 - 47000
Gachibowli
Gachibowli is an elegant local location in Hyderabad. It is near Hitech City and home to various corporate companies such as (Accenture, Microsoft, TCS, Amazon, and so on), it’s a well-known place for social experts. It is exceptional for social and retail training. It is notable for offices and IT firms. It gives occupants an open-to-living climate complete with all comforts. For the best 1 bhk flat for rent in Madhapur, take a look at this once.
Multistorey Apartment Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 5800 - 8800 for every sq. Ft.
Lease - 26000-42000
Manikonda
The private and commercial areas of Manikonda have seen colossal growth. This area Hyderabad has a few companies, and central command here, and this region acquires prevalence among IT experts. Manikonda is an exceptionally sought-after private area because of amenities such as shopping edifices, instructive establishments, and accessibility to work centres.
It has a nice blend of independent homes and elevated structures such as Lanco Hills is one of Manikonda's most esteemed home developments.
Multistorey Apartment Real Estate Price (INR)
Deal - 3700 - 5900 for every sq. Ft.
Lease - 15000 - 25000
Abids
Abids, Hyderabad's notable business locale, includes various condos. The area, which is known as one of the city's most established regions, gives convenience to historical structures. Shopping centers, clamoring commercial centers, banks, ATMs, cafés, etc are exceptionally significant services and assets that this luxurious region in Hyderabad gives. For the excellent, 1 bhk flat for rent in SR Nagar reach our professionals today.
As far as an association, TSRTC transports connect Abids to Ghatkesar, Kothi, Nampally, Dilsukhnagar, and different pieces of the city.
Milestones: Palace Heights, Taj Mahal Hotel, Grand Hotel.
Kondapur
This area is evaluated as one of the main 10 luxurious regions in Hyderabad. Close to Hyderabad, Kondapur is one of the most followed fields. The region has formed into a business and residential point because of its proximity to Gachibowli and Hitech City. It has great access to ring roads, air terminals, train stations, and IT firms.
Emergency clinics, schools, and retail shopping centres are only a couple of the fundamental places that make Kondapur a spot in Hyderabad to reside in. For the excellent 1 bhk flat for rent in Ammerpet, reach us today.
Miyapur
For those searching for a mid-estimated home, Miyapur offers different choices. Many builders have communicated interest in creating mid-portion private tasks around here, and some have previously started development. In view of its nearness to enter office focuses in Hyderabad, Miyapur is also viewed as an elegant region in Hyderabad. Many people are keen on buying land around here.
Residential properties are estimated per square foot close to Rs.2600 and Rs.3200. Rental costs for three-room flats range from Rs.12000 to Rs.14000.
Begumpet
Begumpet is known for its business and private sectors. It is considered irrelevant, yet it has encountered significant change throughout the long term.
This region is home to various government workplaces as well as other worldwide companies. The locale is great for occupants and is additionally wisely valued. If you’re searching for the best 1 bhk flat for rent in SR Nagar, visit us today.
Private houses are evaluated per square foot close to Rs.3000 and Rs.4100. 3 BHK flats are accessible for lease in the scope of Rs.16000 to Rs.23000.
Kukatpally
Kukatpally is a Hyderabad area. The region has more people and good offices. In spite of being considered as a part of one of Hyderabad-rich regions, Kukatpally, gives bounty, reasonable lodging, framework, and public services. The area offers great street services to HITEC City as well as different urban communities. Kukatpally is one of Hyderabad's most well-known neighbourhoods because of its moderate rentals and property rates.
So, the above mentioned is the list of best rental structure in Hyderabad. If you’re looking for the best flat for sale in Hyderabad, then you can reach our experts today for more info.
For More Info: https://www.bigproperty.in
Reference URL: https://www.bigproperty.in/blog/the-best-rental-areas-to-live-in-hyderabad/
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Hi Tinsel hi
#gwen txt#You know the situation is fucked when they don't have their hair braided#Gwen draws#Tinsel T Townes
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jungkook scenario | tinsel wars
❝ you and jungkook compete over everything, including christmas decorations. but when your rivalry comes to a head one december, unspoken feelings bubble to the surface beyond the glare of chrismas lights... ❞
➸ prompt: you and i compete to see who can decorate their house the nicest.
➸ pairing: jungkook x female reader
➸ warnings: profanity; mild injury
➸ requested by anon | 7.6k words | fluff, mild angst, neighbour au, rivals to lovers au
➸ tag list: @mwitsmejk
When your neighbours speak of that year, they speak in hushed, trembling tones. It was the Christmas of carnage - the year of the ‘Tinsel War’ as it came to be known. Stories of that year are tossed up and down the streets of your town, passed over fences like baked goods or invitations to baby showers. You and Jungkook certainly know how to make an impression.
It had started off as a simple rivalry. You had not meant for it to get as heated as it did that Christmas. Looking back on it now, all you can do is laugh, thankful for the outcome.
You aren’t entirely sure what had caused you to first latch onto Jungkook as your rival. Ever since your first meeting, you had been filled with the desire to outdo him, and prove yourself better than he was. Perhaps you were simply intimidated by his charisma, his capable body, his face that looked like it had been dreamed by a renaissance painter. Or perhaps even back then, you had developed a crush.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
It began when you moved into the same neighbourhood at the same time. Only a small pine fence separated your gardens. It might as well have been an ocean dividing you.
Jungkook had rolled up in his red truck, his furniture held down precariously in the back with a web of ratchet straps. You had parked on your drive, just across from his truck, glancing over nervously from the seat of your rented van.
As he began to unload his truck, picking up hefty boxes like they were made of tissue paper, a surge of uncertainty had jolted in your core. So this was your new neighbour? He was not what you had expected. Tucked in a cosy residential area, you had been imagining your neighbours as kindly old ladies, or young families with cooing babies. This man, who appeared to be the same age as you, with tattoos poking out from under his black T-shirt, biceps making the dark ink dance across his tanned skin, made you suddenly shy. This wasn’t you. You tried to shake off the feeling. You weren’t about to be intimidated by some man, just because he was strong, and fit, and insanely good looking. You could prove yourself just as capable as him.
Determined, you hopped out of the driver’s seat, and wound your way around to the back of the van, ready to prove yourself in this unspoken test of strength. All your bravado deflated as soon as you started struggling with unlocking the van’s door. You twisted the key in the lock, pushing stray hair off your face as you blew air out from your puffed cheeks in irritation.
“Need some help there?”
You started at the voice, turning to find your new neighbour grinning at you, as he leant over the fence that divided his garden from yours. You wondered how long he had been standing there, watching with amusement as you struggled with the keys for your van.
“No, I’m fine,” you told him, giving one last sharp twist of the key, the doors mercifully springing open.
You reached into the van, grabbing for the first box. China rattled inside the cardboard, and you prayed that the bubble wrap was enough to protect your mugs. Heaving in a breath, you tried to lift the box, but to your dismay it barely budged an inch. You were sure that your new neighbour was still watching this pathetic display. Your whole body heated with embarrassment, as you heard his voice carry over to you: “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
If you had been more of a pushover – or more sensible – you would have accepted his help at this point. You pushed yourself back from the van, taking in his frame, toned arms draped over the pine slats of your fence. Something about the way his dark hair cascaded across his forehead, tangling with his long lashes, made you inexplicably angry. No man should be that handsome, and toned on top of that. It wasn’t fair. Smiling sweetly at him, you simply replied, “Yep, no problem here. You can get on with your own unpacking.”
“Okay,” he shrugged, pushing himself back from the fence. You watched as he moved back to his own truck, hating the desire that laced your body as his muscles worked to lift up a box of flat-packed furniture. Dragging your eyes away from the spectacle that was your new neighbour, you turned back to your own boxes.
Dragging in a deep breath, you attempted to lift your box of mugs again, and with the power of sheer belligerent stubbornness, you managed to get it off the floor of the van. Keeping your breathing even, you waddled across to your new house with the package. Bending down, you set the box inside your door, feeling eyes burning on you.
Snapping around, you caught your neighbour watching you, a smile playing on his lips. Had he been looking at your ass when you bent over your boxes?
“Enjoying the view?” you snapped as you walked back down your drive to collect another box.
“You’re pretty entertaining,” your neighbour responded, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his smile.
“So glad I’m able to stave off your boredom,” you replied.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he drawled in response.
You rolled your eyes, reaching into the van and heaving another box from the dark interior.
“Name’s Jungkook by the way,” the neighbour called to you as you walked past him, trying not to show how much the heavy box was paining you.
Setting the box down inside your house, you looked back to Jungkook, calling your name back to him in response.
He smiled at you, “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
You weren’t so sure about that.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
From that point on, you were determined to prove yourself to Jungkook. There was something about his addictively irritating smile that made you want to get a rise out of him, just to prove that he was affected by you at all. He was so cocky, so sure of himself, so aware of his own attractiveness.
Well, you knew your own worth as well. You would show him that you couldn’t be strung along, hanging on the golden thread of his every word, unlike the others in his life – like Mari, the woman who lived across the street from you, who had almost swooned like a Victorian lady when Jungkook had offered to get his ladder to rescue her kitten; or like Geraldine, the old lady from the corner of your street who always gifted Jungkook with boxes of cookies, saying how like her grandson he was; or like Mitzi, the furious Schnauzer that lived two doors down from you, and always barked ferociously at you when you walked past, but had nothing but kisses and tail-wags for Jungkook when he passed by. It seemed that Jungkook could charm anyone.
Anyone but you. You refused to be swayed.
Rather, you had been swayed so strongly, you refused to acknowledge it.
You went out of your way to one-up him wherever you could, whether it was making your garden look nicer, or competing at your local gym, checking his pace on the treadmill before you cranked your speed a notch higher.
The time of year when your competing got the most heated was in December. Each year since you moved into your house, the two of you would go out of your way to decorate your front gardens better, fighting over festivity and flashing lights.
During the last year of the rivalry – the year that neighbours would later gossip about, the words ‘Tinsel War’ hot on their tongues – your competition reached its peak. It all culminated in a climax, with an explosion of fairy lights in hues of red and green. It was inevitable.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
In early December, you walked around to the boot of your car, opening up to a mountain of tinsel, string lights, and fake snowmen. This would be the year that your would prove your superiority once and for all, leaving Jungkook to bow down and admit his defeat.
All of those weird looks that you had been gifted at the checkout in the home depot store would be worth it.
As you stood in front of your car, trying to decide what you should start with, you heard the rumble of an engine, and Jungkook’s truck pulled up in his driveway. Despite your mind screaming at your body, your head turned to the sound, eyes watching Jungkook as he stepped down from his truck, keys jingling in his hand. His nose and ears were turning pink in the fresh December air. Even after all this time, you weren’t used to how good he looked.
There was a slam of a car door, distracting you, as you noticed Jungkook wasn’t alone. You recognised the two boys climbing out of the truck as Jungkook’s friends, Taehyung and Jimin. You had heard their names shouted in the early hours of the morning in beer-induced excitement, when Jungkook would have them over for video game marathons and drinks.
Jungkook glanced over his fence, catching you staring. You quickly tried to avert your gaze, watching the sky behind him, as if you were trying to decide if the grey clouds were promising rain or snow.
“Morning,” Jungkook raised a hand to you, waving in your periphery vision.
Your gaze snapped back to him. His eyes had softened to crescent moons as a teasing smile settled on his features. “What are you up to?” he asked.
You glanced down at the Christmas decorations spilling out of your small car. “Decorating,” you replied.
Jungkook sauntered over to his side of the fence, leaning his arm across the slats of pine that separated you from him. His eyes drifted across the assortment of supplies you had picked up from the home depot. “Nice.” He rolled out the word, handing on the ‘i’ for a second too long. His tone jolted through you. You felt the word thrumming in your bones. Was he mocking you? Were your decorations too kitsch-y? Too flash? Too tacky? In the home depot store you had been so sure of your choices. All it took was a glance from Jungkook to send your confidence crashing down. This was why you hated him. He emphasised every one of your own insecurities.
You straightened your back, holding his gaze. “What about you?” you said. Uttered from your mouth, it became a challenge. “What are you up to?”
“Same actually,” he gestured behind him, where Jimin and Taehyung had started unloading decorations from his truck. You took stock of the decorations – gold and red. Classy. More elegant than your bright greens and reds and blues and yellows.
You keept your eyes on Jungkook, gaze steady. You would not let yourself be intimidated. With a snide smile, you said, “Need help getting all those decorations up? Can’t do it alone?” You darted your gaze to Taehyung and Jimin who were messing around with some of Jungkook’s decorations, wrapping themselves up in tinsel.
Jungkook leant back from the fence, his black irises surveying you, “Well yeah, decorating is more fun with friends.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Perhaps, but I’d rather invite my friends over after I’d finished my chores, instead of getting them to do it for me.”
Jungkook shrugged, “Your loss I guess.”
He turned back, stepping towards Taehyung and Jimin, leaving with the final say. You could’t let him do that. You had to say something in response. Anything.
“At least I don’t need to be constantly surrounded by people to validate me,” you shot back.
Jungkook swivelled around to face you again, his face unreadable. “At least I have friends.”
You opened your mouth to spit back equally potent venom but nothing came. Your throat constricted around cruel words. By the time you were muttering, “I have friends too, you asshole,” Jungkook was too far away to hear, Jimin and Taehyung following him sheepishly into his house.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
While you worked through the day, stringing fairy lights along the eaves of your house, and hanging fake sparkling icicles from your porch, you tried your best to ignore Jungkook and his friends as they worked across the fence from you.
It was, unfortunately, almost impossible to ignore them, especially when Taehyung insisted on blasting “All I Want For Christmas Is You” from Jungkook’s truck speakers. The beat managed to hammer every nerve in your body, twisting you into an irritable knot of impatience.
That was why, when Jimin stepped around the fence dividing your garden from Jungkook’s, and called out, “Hey!” your response was to snap back:
“What do you want?”
You winced at your tone immediately, forcing a smile.
Jimin took a step back, like you were a dog who’d tried to bite his fingers off when he reached out to give a pat. “Um, well, I was actually going to make some hot chocolate for Jungkook and Taehyung, and I wanted to ask if you’d like a mug too… Since you’ve been working out in the cold all this time.” He trailed off, eyes flicking back to Jungkook’s garden, where you spotted your neighbour staring over at you, black eyes wide. He looked back to Jimin, a frown contorting his face.
Jimin ignored him, giving you a kind smile. “Look, I know you don’t get along with Jungkook, but if you put your differences aside, I’m sure the two of you would like each other.” He lowered his voice. “I think it would make Jungkook happy if you made peace.”
You studied Jimin’s face, looking for any hints of teasing, but his eyes were wide, genuine.
“Okay,” you relented, “Thank you. That sounds nice.”
That’s how you found yourself standing awkwardly in Jungkook’s garden with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, while Taehyung showed you pictures of his dog on his phone.
All the while, Jungkook remained silent, staring at the marshmallows in his mug as they melted into a sticky pink blob.
It all seemed to be going well until Taehyung put his phone away, frowned at you, and said, “I just don’t understand why you don’t get along with Jungkook.”
The conversation ground to a halt. Jungkook’s cheeks flared red as he stared into the marshmallow-y abyss of his mug. You were left faltering, with your mouth hanging open.
How were you supposed to explain your rivalry with Jungkook? Standing in his garden, with his kind friends around him, it suddenly felt childish to fixate over your impossibly perfect neighbour. You bit on your lip, unsure how to proceed. “I suppose we’ve just never seen eye to eye,” you mumbled, fiddling with the handle of your mug. Saying it out loud, you could hear how pathetic it sounded.
Jungkook sucked air past his teeth, and glanced over at Jimin, muttering, “See, I told you this was pointless.”
Jimin gave Jungkook a pleading look, but Jungkook didn’t wait for any more words to be spoken. Turning on his heel, he made his way back to the house, mumbling an excuse about needing to check the laundry.
You were left watching his retreating form from the garden, while Jimin and Taehyung eyed you carefully, unsure how to continue, now that the metaphorical elephant in the room had up and left.
“Sorry, Jungkook’s not normally like this,” Jimin said, shaking his head, “I don’t understand what’s going on with the two of you...”
You shrugged, unsure how to explain yourself. “I’m not normally like this either,” you sighed. Unable to take the awkwardness, you quickly downed the rest of your hot chocolate, handing the mug back to Jimin with mumbled thanks, and darted back to your house before things could possibly get any worse.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
Despite itching to get back outside and start decorating again, you could not bring yourself to face Jungkook while he worked in the garden with his friends.
Every time you checked at the window, peeking past the blinds, Jungkook was still there, carrying strings of Christmas lights and garlands of tinsel. He seemed to have cheered up since you departed, laughing at jokes Taehyung told, his nose scrunching up with joy.
You let the blinds drop again, a strange feeling settling in your chest. Seeing Jungkook with his friends, eyes filled with laughter, it was difficult to dislike him. And you wanted to dislike him. After all, you needed to prove yourself better than him. You hated that he was so naturally gifted – naturally funny, naturally attractive, naturally fit. All these things that you fought so hard to obtain, he seemed to acquire with no effort. You just wanted to be equal, to be worthy, and were constantly frustrated that you weren’t. God really did have favourites.
You paced around your house, impatient. You wanted Jungkook and his friends to leave the garden so that you could get back to decorating. The hours dragged by as you waited, trying not to think about Jungkook, and in the process, thinking about Jungkook a lot.
At last, the sounds from the garden dissipated, and peeking through the blinds once more, you saw that the next-door garden was empty. Taking the opportunity, you grabbed a coat and scarf, and darted outside to finish what you had started.
With the sun sinking lower in the sky as you stepped onto your porch, you felt a chill settling into the air around you. Sneaking a glance across at Jungkook’s garden, your jaw went slack when you saw what you would be competing with this year. Jungkook had outdone himself once again. His porch sparkled with fairy lights, reflecting off shiny tinsel in a spiral of twinkling stars. The garden beyond had been transformed into a fantastical winter scene, ripped straight from a children’s picture book, with golden reindeer prancing in front of a sleigh that sparkled with lights. The bulbs danced above the frost encrusted grass, creating a dazzling pond of dancing lights in front of his house. The winking stars waltzed before your eyes in shades of gold and silver.
You felt your hands clench into determined fists by your side. You wouldn’t let Jungkook beat you. Not this time.
The work in your garden had you sweating despite the frosty weather, as you looped lights across your porch, and set up sparkling decorations on your lawn.
As you worked, you felt something wet tickle the crown of your head, and you looked up to see the first flakes of December snow cascading gently down from lazy clouds. Invigorated by the Christmas weather, you continued to work on your garden, stringing lights through your trees and hedges.
By the time you finished, the sun had fully set, a quiet dark settling over your development with the soft first snow.
Now came the moment of truth.
You walked back to your house to flick the switch that would – you hoped – fill your garden with lights fit to rival Jungkook’s. With your heart scrambling in your throat, you pressed the switch and turned back to your garden, watching as the lights spread across the grass, filling the garden with colour. Blue, red, green and yellow lit up like a candy shop of colour before your eyes.
Warm satisfaction trickled through your body as you surveyed your hard work.
You heard the latch of the door across from you open as Jungkook stepped out, no doubt to ogle your wonderful display. You peeked across the fence to spot his face reflecting your bright lights, his dark eyes filled with the spectrum of colour from your garden.
The family from a few doors down had just stepped out of their house, their dog pulling on its lead. The little girl gave you a wave as she ran past, her dad calling after her that she needed to zip up her coat. “I like your garden!” she shouted at you before she ran back to her dad.
“Thank you,” you called after her, then turned back to Jungkook, raising a triumphant eyebrow at him – a challenge.
In the swirling lights, you could not decipher the expression that registered on his face before he turned back to his house, slamming the door behind him.
You got the feeling that you had won. Perhaps too soon.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
The next morning, you woke up to bright light fighting its way past your curtains. You checked your phone, squinting at the screen. 11:00. You had slept in. Having taken a few days off from work for the holidays, you had already allowed your sleep schedule to become a mess.
However, the light that was streaming into your room seemed too unnatural to be radiating from the morning sun alone. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you made your way over to the window and pulled the curtain back. Outside, bright light spilled across your grass, shining from beyond the slats in the fence, from nowhere else than-
“Jeon Jungkook,” you sighed, leaning your face close to the glass to try and get a glimpse into his garden.
Sure enough, there he was, working by the fence, a concentrated frown on his face as he stepped back from the string of lights he had festooned across the pine slats.
Of course he would try to one up you like this.
Pulling on a jumper and jeans, you clattered down the stairs and out into the fresh snow, hoping to catch him in the act.
Jungkook’s head appeared above the fence as your door slammed shut behind you. His eyes were wide, like a bunny caught in the headlights of your indignation.
“What are you doing?” you called over to him as he stood up, brushing snow from the knees of his jeans.
“Um,” he scratched at the nape of his neck, eyes blinking innocently at you, “Why do you need to know what I’m doing twenty-four seven?”
“I don’t,” you replied, as you reached the fence, peeking over at what he had been working on before you showed up. Strings of golden lights peeked out at you, winking in the morning sunshine, carefully wrapped around the planks of wood in the fence.
“Putting up more decorations?” You wrinkled your nose at him, “I knew it. You felt intimidated by my superior decorating skills, didn’t you?”
Jungkook huffed a laugh, “You wish. I was planning this already. I just didn’t get around to it yesterday.”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to show your disappointment that you were unable to get a more heated response from him. “Well, for the record, I’m not done either.”
Jungkook glanced behind you at the kaleidoscope of bright lights that made up the disco wonderland of your garden. “Really? It looks pretty done to me.”
“Well… it’s not,” you retorted, glancing behind you at all the work you had done the day before. Jungkook was probably right. There wasn’t much else to do. Still, you didn’t want to be outdone.
Before Jungkook could say anything else, you muttered a brief goodbye to him, and then retreated back to your house.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
With yet another trip to the home depot store under your belt, you pulled into your drive with more decorations loaded into the boot of your car.
Jungkook would not see you admit defeat so easily.
As soon as you hopped out of the car, you cast a habitual glance over at Jungkook’s garden, critiquing the work he had done that morning. Annoyingly, it was good. Very good. The golden lights twinkled along the fence, reflecting off the decorations he had spread across his lawn, imbibing the air with a mysterious Christmas magic.
You gritted your teeth. That just meant you would have to work harder in order to best him.
Surveying the small amount of free space that you had left on your lawn, you tried your best to plan where your new decorations would go.
After a lot of sweating, and mumbling curses under your breath, you managed to find space for the extra decorations on your lawn – a bright family of snowmen that lit up in shades of blue; an igloo that cycled through all the colours of the rainbow; fake parcels that shone with flashing ribbons of fairy lights. Once you had finished, you found yourself lost in a maze of your own decorations. You fought to get free from the flashing colours without knocking anything over. Finally, you managed to find a free space of ground to stand on, where you could survey your handiwork.
It was a lot more gaudy than you had initially planned. You tilted your head to the side, trying to convince yourself that it looked nice, but there was no denying it:
“That looks awful.”
You glanced across at the voice, seeing Jungkook grinning at you from the safety of his porch.
“Well I think it looks nice,” you lied.
In the glare of your Christmas lights, you saw a frown wrinkle Jungkook’s brow. “You’re kidding, right?”
You searched for a good comeback, but your mind only supplied a blank canvas. Thanks for nothing, brain. So instead of saying something intelligent, you settled for the lowest common denominator. “You’re an asshole, Jungkook.”
You didn’t wait to see the hurt spread across his face, instead turning to stalk back to your house, weaving between the adornments that littered your drive with as much dignity as possibly when surrounded by the most gaudy atrocities to call themselves Christmas decorations.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
That evening, as you sat curled up on your sofa, rewatching Home Alone, you tried to forget about Jungkook. A knock on the door roused you from your thoughts. Pausing the film on Kevin’s iconic screaming face, you walked to the front door, wondering who was bothering you at this time of day. Part of your brain was imagining Jungkook, greeting you with a grovelling apology, telling you that, actually, your decorations looked amazing, and he truly was an asshole to say otherwise. As if.
Instead, you opened the door to the frowning face of Geraldine, the old lady from the corner of your street.
“Good evening, Geraldine,” you offered her your best smile.
“Are you out of your mind?” Geraldine responded in greeting, the crow’s feet around her eyes deepening as she squinted up at you.
“I’m sorry?” you responded, not sure what she was talking about.
Geraldine waved a hand at the decorations in your garden with an exasperated sigh. Beyond her gesticulations you could make out the figures of a few other neighbours. An uncomfortable weight settled in your stomach.
“These decorations are too much. Really, they’re too much,” Geraldine said. “Myself and a few other neighbours were talking and we decided we really needed to have a word with you. It’s dangerous for drivers passing our street. It’s causing a distraction. Not to mention it’s an eyesore.” Geraldine straightened herself up to her full height, still a few inches shorter than you, and fixed you with a hard glare. “If you don’t fix your garden by tomorrow evening, we’ve decided to file a complaint to your landlord.”
You swallowed, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Okay, I’ll fix it by then. Don’t worry.”
Geraldine eyed you with distrust, then conceded with a nod, and began to make her way back down the driveway, weaving between your sad looking decorations that lit up the snow in unruly colours. You followed after her, picking up some of the smaller decorations and unplugging them, just to prove a point. The neighbours convened at the bottom of your drive eyed you warily. You gave a polite wave, hoping they would leave you alone.
After a few moments of you scrambling around the garden, unplugging the worst offenders, the neighbours began to disperse, whispering under their breath.
“Looks like someone’s in trouble,” said an all-too-familiar voice.
Of course Jungkook would be around for your lowest moment. You grimaced as you turned towards him. “What do you want?”
He leant against the beam of his porch, his face lit up brightly in the glare of your offending garden. “I just wanted to remind you that I did warn you that it looked bad.”
“Ah, I see,” you nodded, “So you’re saying you came out to gloat.”
“Yeah,” he nodded his head.
“Good for you,” you grumbled, “You were right yet again. You’re always right.”
“Why are you so aggressive?” he asked, as you continued to unplug your decorations.
“Why are you so smug all the time?” you shot back.
“I’m not smug,” Jungkook replied, his tone sounding slightly hurt.
You stood up straight, wires draped around your arms as you held the smaller decorations, “Says the man who left his house just to gloat – your words not mine. Just because you’re better than me.”
“Hey,” Jungkook frowned, “I never said I’m better than you.”
“You don’t have to say it,” you retorted, your temper rising as cold stung at your cheeks, “I know you’re thinking it.”
“That’s not true,” Jungkook tried to deflect, “You’re the one who decided that we needed to compete over everything. Maybe you should work on your own insecurities before you have a go at me.”
Anger shimmered, barely contained below your hot skin. “Yeah, because you’re so perfect, no one can compete with you. That’s not fair, Jungkook. You’re not fair.” Before you realised what you were doing, you had dropped your decorations, walking over to his fence and vaulting over it. Head pounding, you walked over the reindeer decorations that pranced elegantly across his lawn. Anger surging in your hot blood, you knocked over the smallest reindeer with a kick. It toppled to the ground with a sad clatter, its tinsel detangling from its collar and falling to the snow, like a shiny red snake.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Jungkook stepped down from the porch, walking towards you.
Guilt bubbled in your stomach, but you pushed it down. You were tired and you were humiliated – sick of playing second best to Jungkook all the time. You ducked away from him, making for his porch, where you picked up a string of golden tinsel, and tugged, pulling it down from the eaves, along with the fairy lights that it was tangled with.
“So that’s how you want to do things, huh?” Jungkook asked. The fierce spark in his eyes scared you. “You’re going to be immature about it?”
Before you could fully compute what he was doing, he had made his way over to your garden, pushing over your snowmen decorations. They clattered to your lawn with a crash, blue lights sputtering out, as shards of glass and ceramic cascaded across the snow.
Okay. You deserved that.
You rushed back to the fence, clambering over the divide, as Jungkook continued to push over your decorations, lights flickering off one-by-one.
By the time you reached him, most of your decorations were lying in a sad pile in the corner of the garden. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him away before he touched anymore of your decorations. Despite his strength, Jungkook did not fight you, muscles relaxing below your touch. You could feel his breath through the ragged rise and fall of his chest.
“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” he asked pulling himself away from you, “See, I’m not so perfect. I get hurt too. I have emotions as well.” His eyes survey you. This close, you realise that his eyes aren’t actually black, but a warm chocolate brown. For some reason, the realisation breaks your heart.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you mumbled, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t mean to-”
“But you did,” Jungkook interjected, “So it doesn’t matter what you meant. Your actions speak for themselves.” Leaving you with a heaviness pressing on your shoulders, he returns to his house, as your remaining decorations flash sadly around you.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
You spent the rest of the evening cleaning up your garden. Beyond the fence, in the shadows of Jungkook’s garden, the fallen decorations that you knocked over stared at you, accusatorial.
After every bad thought, every curse, every ill wish that you had for Jungkook, you knew deep down that it was all overblown. Jungkook had never truly done anything to hurt you, beyond remind you of your own insecurities. The truth was you were jealous of him. The realisation hit you, bitter and hot, stinging your cold skin.
You were jealous of him, and you were jealous of those close to him. He seemed to exist in a halo of golden perfection that you had convinced yourself you did not belong with. But that wasn’t his fault.
Why shouldn’t you deserve a taste of the halcyon aura that surrounded him?
You simply needed to prove to yourself that you were beyond the childish fighting you had scrambled for, needing a reaction from Jungkook just to have his gaze graze your own.
Sucking in your pride, you made up your mind. With the sky above you filled with black clouds, blocking out the velvet sky, you snuck over to Jungkook’s fence and hoisted yourself over.
It was late. You hoped Jungkook was asleep already. You didn’t know how you would explain all of this to him.
No words would mend your relationship with Jungkook now. You needed to show him you were truly sorry for what you had done by righting your wrong. Picking up the reindeer that you had knocked over on the lawn, you breathed a sigh of relief to see that the decoration hadn’t actually been broken. You wiped the snow off the reindeer’s golden face, and then bent down to grab its garland of tinsel, wrapping it around the collar again. Soon, the reindeer was prancing proudly next to his friends once more.
You stepped back to admire your handiwork, then turned your attention to Jungkook’s porch. The tinsel and fairy lights were still lying in a sad heap by the steps. You glanced up at the spot where Jungkook had initially hung the tinsel, on the eaves above his porch. There was no way you were reaching that without a ladder. With a huff of breath freezing on the air before you, you turned back to your house, sneaking to your garage to get a ladder.
As you returned to the war-zone that was Jungkook’s front garden, you prayed that he wouldn’t hear you sneaking around at this hour. As much as you wanted to fix the damage you had caused, you also didn’t want to have to face him again this evening after your earlier outburst.
Carefully, you balanced the ladder against the porch, and then, slinging the tinsel and lights around your body to carry them with you, you made your way up the rungs. Thankfully, when you had yanked the tinsel down, you hadn’t pulled down the nails that had been supporting the garlands, and you could still see the spots were Jungkook had originally festooned the lights. You started stringing the tinsel and fairy lights along the eaves, slowly making your way along the length of the porch.
You were nearly finished when the noise you had been dreading most broke through the still air – the sound of Jungkook’s front door opening.
“What are you doing?” his voice came from below.
You glanced down to where he stood, shivering at the bottom of your ladder. He had clearly just got out of bed, a baggy hoody thrown over his T-Shirt and boxers.
“I’m fixing the decorations,” you replied.
“At eleven PM?” Jungkook asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“It’s too late to be doing this,” Jungkook said, “You need to get down. It’s too dangerous to be doing this in the dark.”
“I’m fine,” you replied, “I’m nearly done.”
There was only one more nail sticking out, waiting to receive its crown of tinsel. You stretched out towards the end of the porch, straining to reach the final spot.
“I understand you’re trying to make things right, but please,” Jungkook pleaded, “Just get down. We can fix this tomorrow. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I need to do this,” you called down hotly, “I messed up and I need to fix it.”
“I forgive you for earlier,” Jungkook said, “Really, it’s okay. I promise. You don’t have to do this. Not right now.”
“I do,” you replied, stretching for the last spot. You were so close to the final nail, so nearly done. Closer, closer, your fingers stretched out, hooking the final piece of tinsel over its nail. A triumphant smile spread across your face, as you wobbled in place, the tinsel shining proudly, at home once again. The sky wavered above you, and the tinsel you had just been looking at began to fall away from you. Before you could understand that it wasn’t the tinsel that was falling, but you instead, it was already too late. Your scream never left your throat.
The world went black.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
The first thing that you were aware of was the pain, pushing through your arm, which had borne most of the impact. You opened your eyes to spinning stars, and blinking past that, you could make out Jungkook’s concerned face staring down at you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as you fluttered your eyelashes, blood rushing to your head.
Your first coherent thought was how silly Jungkook was to be sitting on the snow in just his boxer shorts. You reached out a hand to his face, murmuring his name. He took your hand in his own. His fingers were so warm.
“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice husky with worry. He was being so kind, after all the horrible things you had said to him.
Tears warmed your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you hiccuped, “Jungkook, I’m so sorry!”
“Shh, it’s okay,” his fingers rubbed reassuring circles onto your palm, “It’s okay.” His voice lulled you out of your pain, stifling tears as you focussed on his face, lines of concerned etched on his forehead.
“I just wanted to prove myself to you,” you murmured, “I wanted to be as good as you are...”
“You are as good as me,” he furrowed his brow, “What are you talking about?”
“I wanted you to like me,” you sniffled.
“I do like you,” a smile crinkles Jungkook’s eyes. “You’re just being silly. How could I not like you. You’re determined, and smart, and strong, and funny. And damn, if you aren’t incredibly stubborn, but I still like you. I just didn’t like that you don’t like me.”
“But I like you too,” you said, “I’m just jealous because you’re so good at everything. I’m sorry, Jungkook. I really am. I just wanted you to think I was cool. I wanted to be someone who was worthy of dating you.”
Of course it would take you getting a concussion to finally confess your true feelings. Only you would be so stubborn.
Jungkook squeezes your hand, “It’s okay, I promise you don’t need to prove anything. I like you just the way you are.” His tone is reassuring, “Now why don’t we get you to a hospital, okay?”
“I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine.”
“You were out cold for a few moments. I just need to make sure you’re okay. Besides, that swelling on your wrist looks nasty.”
Conceding defeat, you waited while Jungkook dashed into his house to grab a pair of sweatpants to protect his modesty, before he helped you into his truck to drive you to your nearest hospital.
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
The wait in the emergency room was a long one.
Jungkook stayed with you the entire time, keeping his fingers threaded through yours. The heat from his hand was nice, blocking out the pain thrumming in your wrist, and the unpleasant chemical smell of medical cleanliness that permeated the hospital.
When you finally got to see the doctor, she checked over you and gave you a splint for your wrist which you had sprained. She then concluded that you were safe to go home, so long as someone checked on you for the next twenty four hours to ensure no signs of concussion persisted.
“Check for any dizziness, or confusion,” the doctor instructed Jungkook, “And if there’s any irregularities, come straight back here, understand?”
“Don’t worry,” Jungkook gave you a smile, “I’ll look after her.”
You glanced between the doctor and Jungkook, realisation dawning that the doctor must have assumed that Jungkook was your boyfriend. A warmth spread through your chest at the thought, a smile forming on your face.
“Alright, let’s get you home then,” Jungkook said, offering his arm to you as you walked out of the doctor’s office.
“You know it’s my wrist, not my leg that was hurt,” you told him as you walked down the corridor to the exit, “I don’t need you to support me.”
“I know,” Jungkook smiled at you, “I just wanted an excuse to have you lean on me.”
You laughed, “You’re incorrigible.”
“You like it,” Jungkook chuckled, opening the door for you, and leading you out to the car park.
“Perhaps,” you mumbled, trying to hold back on a grin. As you reached Jungkook’s truck, you paused, pulling away from him, “I really am sorry for causing you so much trouble this evening.”
Jungkook waved your apology away with his hand. “No need to worry, I’m just glad that you’re okay. Besides, all of the events tonight meant that you finally admitted that you want to date me, so I can’t really be upset.”
You swallowed, glancing up at him, suddenly shy. “About that… I know I might have been a bit concussed at the time. I didn’t mean to just spring that on you out of the blue.” Jungkook’s eyes traced yours, lashes shadowing his warm gaze. “But,” you continued, “I meant what I said. I really am sorry to have been such a pain. All I wanted was to be someone you liked.”
“Good thing I liked you all along then,” Jungkook smiled.
“What a relief,” you said, reaching out for Jungkook’s hand and giving his fingers a squeeze.
Gently, careful of your sprained wrist, Jungkook pulled you forward until you were nestled against him, the sound of his heartbeat thudding through you. “I like you a lot,” he murmured, his voice soft in your ears, “You don’t need to go around trying to change things about yourself, or prove anything to me.”
You lifted your chin, grinning up at him, “You mean I can stay just as annoyingly stubborn?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jungkook replied. His face was so close to yours, body pressed against you. You wondered what his lips tasted like, but wobbled, hesitating, unsure if it was too soon for a kiss. After all, it had only been the previous evening that you had been shouting your frustrations at him.
Jungkook closed the distance instead, his lips ghosting over your cheek, chaste and innocent. The feeling warmed your body despite the December cold.
“Alright,” Jungkook stepped back from you, his cheeks turning pink, “Let’s get you home before the sun starts rising.”
- ✻ ✻ ✻ -
That was how the Tinsel War ended.
There was no more fighting after that. There was no need. You and Jungkook had called a ceasefire, fully understanding each other.
Now, every Christmas, instead of competing over Christmas decorations, you share the task together. You share the same garden now, no fence separating the two of you.
As you put up the decorations this year, you smile at the memories of your past rivalry with your now-husband. Your golden ring catches the light as you stretch up to hang tinsel over your living room doorway.
“It looks great in here,” Jungkook says as he steps into the living room, eyeing the Christmas tree appreciatively, “Just make sure you don’t overexert yourself, okay?”
“Baby, I’m only ten weeks pregnant,” you say, “I can handle a little decorating.”
“I know,” Jungkook steps behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso, his chin nestled on your shoulder, “I just worry. You know me.”
You smile, breathing a soft laugh through your nose as he lightly kisses your neck. You find yourself strangely nostalgic around December, remembering the year that you and Jungkook’s rivalry came to a head in an explosion of uncovered feelings. Now, years later, with a ring on your finger, and your first child on the way, you’re thankful that you were able to overcome your pride and admit your true feelings.
“I love this time of year,” Jungkook says what you were just thinking.
“Me too,” you turn around to return Jungkook’s hug, arms wrapping around his torso.
“I was just thinking of how we’ll tell our baby about how we met,” Jungkook admits, chuckling to himself.
“I’m sure they’ll hear all kinds of stories about the Tinsel War,” you laugh, “And how it led to the best years of my life.”
You don’t get anymore words in, as Jungkook tilts his chin down to press a kiss to your lips, and you give over to his warmth, decorations forgotten for now.
- THE END -
➸ author’s note: thank you so much for reading. i really hope you enjoyed it. i’ve got more christmas themed stories on the way, so i hope you look forward to them ~
#btsghostie#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#bts imagines#jungkook imagine#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts#bangtan sonyeondan#bangtan scenarios#bangtan imagines#jungkook#jeon jungguk#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#bts reactions#bts chats#bts x reader#bts x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts enemies to lovers#bts fluff scenarios#bts angst#jungkook angst#bts jungguk#bts writing#bts christmas
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Strawberry | Chapter 13 | Common Tongue
Summary: This chapter is titled after a Hozier song. Take that as you will.
Rating: M. If I see anyone minor interacting with this or hear of anyone reading it, I will block your ass.
TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople @literallydontlook
“I’m a virgin,” you had said to him one night.
It meant nothing.
It meant nothing because, to him, you were the same with or without having slept with someone. Din knew that - had you chose him - it would be an honor. He would think no differently of you either way, and that even if the two of you never had sex, he was glad to have met you.
Now he thinks he may be addicted.
Part of him really wishes that you hadn’t gone this far; that the innocence would have lasted until whenever it was that he forced to leave. Because now he was in over his fucking head.
Behind the shed, you’d grabbed his hand and palmed yourself against the cotton of your underwear. The song of cicadas did a humbling job of masking your little pants or the way you whimpered beneath him. And, sure, Din did everything in his power to break traditional norms, but he wasn’t going to fuck you behind a shed for the first time. His heart broke when he separated himself from you and you whined underneath your breath in protest.
“Come on,” he huffed, lungs attempting to keep up. “Let’s go.”
|
Three minutes.
That’s how long it took to run from the main house to the cabin. Three goddamned minutes was a record. You don’t recall running that fast since becoming an adult. If your high school gym teacher has witnessed the velocity in which you just sprinted, she’d be amazed.
It was good old fashioned motivation.
Fortunately, Din’s barely taken his hands off of you so he managed to catch your clumsy ass when you tripped over the lip of the front door. The two of you had chuckled against the other before he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you giggle. You place a hand upon your cheek in feign distress. “But I think I may need to lay down…”
Your tone, which is laced with suggestive demure, has Din raising a brow. “Oh yeah?” he growls.
You nod sweetly, lips still pressed against his. “Mm hm.”
|
You’re so goddamn beautiful.
When he presses you against the plushness of the sheets, he admires the way your hair fans about you and frames your face. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips plump from his kiss, the natural pout of them more pronounced now that he’s bitten and sucked at the flesh. The brilliance of your skin glows beneath the yellow light, neck joining the expanse of your bust which heaves with endurance. He kisses down your pulse point until he reaches the neck of his t-shirt.
His t-shirt.
“Can I?” he whispers against the hollow of your neck, fingering the edge of the fabric.
“Yes.”
|
You’ve never been this exposed to anyone other than the occasional friend (when changing) or your sisters (also when changing). It’s been so long since you’ve gone outside of yourself - into the very thick of reality - so when he asked if he could reveal you to it, the urgent “yes” surprised yourself.
Still - it’s another kind of anxiety; not violent, but in the way. When he’s stripped the shirt from your body - carefully, as though he were unwrapping a priceless antique - it’s a natural instinct to cover yourself, confident of the way you weren’t.
“Take all the time you need,” he whispers against the flesh of your neck. “I’m a patient man.”
It should’ve been enough and maybe in an alternate universe it was. Maybe that version of you threw all misogynistic beauty standards out the window into the night, but in this present day-in-age, you took a minute to go over the mental checklist. What if you weren’t to his standards? What was the situation like down there? What would you do if he wasn’t all that you decided him to be?
How long would it take to heal from that?
Before your mother died she took your hand and made you promise: I will do everything I can to feel joy, as fleeting as it may be. There are lessons to be learned. She’d made you chant it in a monkish way, as though preforming a ceremony in the sterility of a hospital room strung with cheap tinsel and a sad, plastic tree at her bedside. You’d understood what she meant then like the way a student might understand the components of Ancient Greek; not until it is utilized can its full potential make any sense at all.
The philosophers - and your mother - be onto something.
|
Something like a muffled version of his name slips lazily through your lips. And while it’s dissected, pulled apart with a lazy and tense breath, it’s the first time his name has sounded poetic. Din never thought of himself this way; that his person could ever inspire such an organic response as the way you unwound beneath him. He’s laid with women before - three, he thinks - but he’s not positive he’s ever experienced a woman before.
Xian was good at what she did and she knew it; Din wasn’t oblivious to that but it lacked a certain something. The other times his body has been weaved together with another’s was faceless; just hookups he’s tried so desperately to forget. Hazy nights in which he woke up to in the morning, their backs to him, and identity indistinguishable. Eventually he just stopped trying.
It wasn’t until now with your fingers clutching at his hair that he realized how the act - the very dance itself - could be purifying. How it could wash away the very worst of similar experiences and how it made something that always felt cheap now priceless. The body is a temple, his elders would always say, and it never made any sense to him. The body is a fortress made to withstand hurricanes and torpedos. It was no place to kneel, to worship, to inspire anything other than sheer refuge.
How ironic, as kneeling was the very thing he was doing now.
Irony wasn’t the word. Fateful, he supposes, as he tastes the fruit that’s always been so forbidden to him. Your thighs clench around his head and the fingers that have been stroking his hair grip the sheets, white knuckling the starched weave, until a gasp is caught in your throat. And then there is nothing but the pressure of ignition until it crumbles around you, fizzing the air with something akin to champagne bubbles.
There is no nasally whine that follows afterwards like there always had been before you. No wild “yes!” that pollutes the air. Just the instability of a weakened chest, the grasping at air, and the delicious feel of your hand enveloping his after having pulled it from your sex.
|
You weren’t a stranger to penetration though this was was with exceptions; no one had ever done anything to you with foreign or, well, domestic objects. At the age of eighteen, your friends at the time had dragged you to the building on the east end of town that never officially existed until legality said that it did. La Boudoir Rouge was the place ‘vodka aunts’ went to cure the blues, bought mysterious items, and then hid the pink bags in the back of their closets.
So, yes; sex was a foreign exchange policy you’ve never found yourself involved in, but you knew the dynamics. You’d bought equipment and even enjoyed it more than you’d initially expected. Penetration wasn’t at all strange to you.
This made it easier, you think, as Din finally slides in. There was a stretch of course, and it took you a moment to get comfortable enough to brave any movement. Din drops his forehead upon yours, letting out a strangled breath through his nose, as you struggle to come to terms with the size. He’d given off an energy but…
“It’s so big,” you gasp once he reaches the spongey part of you. It feels stupid, it falls short on a botched intake of breath, but it’s the truth.
Din’s composing himself, silent in his endeavor to mold himself within you. His arms are pressed on either side of you, body flush against yours with his pelvis meeting your pubic bone. There’s another moment of silence before he kisses at your temple.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
A smile graces your lips, though your eyes are clenched. “That’s an understatement.”
|
The pace is fast, sweat inspiring. It drips down your neck until it falls in the valley of your breasts and Din wants so badly to lick it from your skin, but he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. It’s ironclad - it’s the best goddamn pussy he’s ever had.
He wants to tell you that but he’s unsure of how you’d react. You’ve been letting out delicious gasps and moans reaching an octave you’d never reach sober, but not you’re coherently vocal enough for him to say it outright.
And then you breathe it in a pathetic whine: “It’s yours, Din. It’s yours.”
He almost stops, but his body is hellbent on seeing this through. Whatever the fuck this was; a spiritual experience maybe. Perhaps he’d died after the last mission - broken and buried underneath mounds of dirt - and now rests in paradise where he fucks his way through eternity.
A raw, animalistic response possesses him, the fistful of flesh from your hips is replaced by the swell of you cheeks. He embraces you softly, but sternly enough to incite a whimper.
“What was that, chica bonita, huh?”
You throw your head back as he slams his hips against yours with more force, the excitement conjuring a great wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. You try to speak but it fails to materialize.
He was balls deep and you were still shy by your interjection.
“What’s mine, sweet girl?” he whispers, mouth tickling along your collarbones. The contrast of gentle words and barbaric thrusts is something he’s never experienced during sex. Ever.
You let out one more mouthwatering whine before saying: “My pussy is yours, Din. Take it. Please, please…”
|
Suffice to say, that’s what does it. The two of you cum at the same time, like a synchronized dance, clutching one another so tightly it leaves red ribbons. Your fingernails had dug into his forearms and his at your waist in which his hands wrapped around. He lets out a deep, broken growl as you whimper, shaking like a leaf, and he pulls out just in time to paint your belly with pearlescent threads.
He collapses on top of you, knocking the wind from your fragile body. You’re absolute jelly beneath him, crumbled into bits, and would never be the same. Let’s stay here forever, you want to tell him.
Din presses his face into the hollow of your neck, listening to the rapid pulse beneath flushed and thin skin. Then he kisses the blood flow beneath once, twice. “My gorgeous girl…”
Stay with me. Stay with me.
You wrap your arms - which have settled from the convulsions - around his neck and hug him tightly against you.
Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.
#din djarin x reader#din x reader#strawberryfic#mando x reader#the mandalorian x reader#din x y/n#din x you#mando x y/n#mando x you
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My Christmas Wish
merry christmas ceecee @evanbucxley from your holiday gift exchangee!
Buck was feeling extremely pleased with himself that Friday night as he got ready for the evening ahead of him. It was his turn this year to plan the 118’s Christmas party, and boy, oh boy, were they in for quite a night. So after months of thinking of what he could possibly do to top Bobby’s dress-up party and extravagant feast last year, he’d finally gotten it. He’d struck gold. He knew it was perfect the moment he had been driving to Maddie’s and saw that little karaoke bar on the other side of town, its windows decorated for Christmas with lights and tinsel and signs telling all of L.A. that they were available for Christmas parties. He knew he would be late to go Christmas tree shopping with his sister if he pulled over to check it out, but he also knew that he would continue to daydream about that bar if he didn’t go in now.
After securing a room and walking back out to the Jeep, Buck had a smile like no other plastered across his face. He’d done it. He had no doubt about it: this year’s Christmas party would beat every other year.
So now here he stood, checking himself in the mirror for a final time and chuckling at the sight. He’d decided on plain black skinny jeans and a festive coloured t-shirt, and, of course, he couldn’t forget the absolute cherry on top: his favourite ugly Christmas jumper. Its bright yellow flashing lights stood out against the vibrant reds and greens, and tiny reindeers and elves, all with happy smiling faces, covered the entire piece of clothing. It was only once a year that he pulled out this bad boy for the firehouse’s Christmas party, and looking at it now, he almost couldn’t contain his excitement.
After deciding he was happy with his appearance, Buck slipped on his Converse and stuck his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, then walked out of the loft and locked the door behind him. A rush of joy and a feeling of hope filled his chest as he stepped out into the night.
After paying the taxi driver, Buck made his way into the karaoke bar and, with the help of the woman at the front desk, found his way to the room that he had reserved. Walking through the doors, he found himself to be completely alone. Now was the perfect time to scope out the space.
read more on ao3!
#911holidaygiftexchange2021#911 secret santa#911 fic#911 christmas fic#leah writes#leah writes 911#911 fan fic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie#dailybuddie#christmas story#first kiss#911
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warm | clark kent/bruce wayne
He hasn’t told anyone this, except for Diana. But when he’d been close to the edges of his awareness, when he’d felt the light creeping in on all sides, he’d sworn he could hear them. Feel them, even—his parents, their hands cool to the touch upon his temples.
or, in the aftermath of a near fatal injury, clark and bruce celebrate the holidays
The sun hasn’t even risen over Kansas when Bruce wakes to featherlight fingertips dusting along his brow, his collarbone, his throat.
He pulls Clark closer. Marvels at the way he comes willingly, the way he tucks himself into Bruce’s side like he belongs there.
“Morning,” Clark mumbles, somewhere against Bruce’s collarbone.
Bruce drags the tip of his nose over Clark’s forehead. Buries his face in Clark’s mess of hair and breathes deeply, without pain, for the first time in weeks.
“Good morning,” he returns, voice scratchy with sleep.
Clark yawns, and stretches, and somehow finds his way even closer, which really should not even be feasible. “I think I need a shower.”
Bruce hums. Runs a hand along Clark’s spine, soaking up warmth. “I didn’t want to say anything.”
Clark grins. Pokes at Bruce’s cheek in retaliation.
They make their way out of bed slowly, Clark helping Bruce carefully upright. Bruce’s breath hitches at the pull of stitches, and Clark winces. Runs a gentle hand over healing flesh and sets Bruce on his feet again.
It had been a closer call than most. Two spears of light through Bruce’s chest—one barely missing his heart, one not missing his left lung.
He almost hadn’t made it.
He remembers lying in a hospital bed, hearing Clark over the constant thrum of machinery, of the things keeping Bruce alive.
Don’t go yet, Clark had whispered into the skin of Bruce’s palm. It may have been the only part of Bruce’s body that hadn’t been covered in bruise, in torn and mending skin. I’m not ready.
Bruce had wanted to ask what for, but the truth was, he already knew. They’d talked about this before. They’d made the deal, and they'd sealed it in every way they knew how.
Where you go, I go. To whatever end. No matter what.
It was as sacred a pact as any that Bruce had ever made—more sacred, even, because it had been made with something bigger than fear, or hatred, or vengeance. It had been made with love.
Clark had spent ten days in the hospital beside Bruce, holding his hand. By the end of it, his hair had been a matted mess, his eyes sunken in and dark.
Alfred and Ms. Kent had never been more than an arm’s length away the whole time, with Diana setting up a permanent guard over the hospital room. Their protective detail’s rotation had seen the likes of Barry, Hal, Arthur, and Diana herself, all keeping watch over the proceedings at Gotham General until Bruce could be moved somewhere safer. Until he could be taken home.
Now, Bruce stands on his own two feet. Steers Clark towards the shower, and heads for the door.
He follows the scent of freshly baked banana bread downstairs. Ms. Kent is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a note on the counter in front of the coffee pot, because she knows them, and she knows they’ll worry.
Went into town for groceries, will be back soon. Coffee’s ready to go.
Bruce feels something warm, and ridiculous, and altogether terrifying blossom in his chest. He presses start on the coffee pot and finds his way outside, onto the Kent’s wraparound porch.
He’d had spent the better part of yesterday evening helping to hang ornaments on the low branches of the Christmas tree in the living room, careful to avoid pulling stitches. And then he’d made the mistake of wincing once, and had been subsequently fired from decorating duty and sequestered to the couch.
Bruce had offered to order takeout for dinner when Ms. Kent and Clark had finally finished hanging the tinsel, and had nearly been laughed out of the house.
Instead, Martha had warmed homemade bread from the freezer, and Clark had started chopping vegetables for soup.
Bruce had been given the strikingly banal task of setting the table, and then of sitting the hell down before he passed out—Clark’s words, not Ms. Kent’s.
Bruce hadn’t set a table in years, but it was also probably the only task he was actually fit to do. And since he’d refused to just sit down in the first place, Martha had indulged him with effortless busywork, the kinds of things that Bruce imagined happened in a normal home, a full home.
He hasn’t told anyone this, except for Diana. But when he’d been close to the edges of his awareness, when he’d felt the light creeping in on all sides, he’d sworn he could hear them. Feel them, even—his parents, their hands cool to the touch upon his temples.
His mom had smiled, warm and fearless. It had done something to Bruce’s chest, then—torn it apart, and put it back together again.
You are not done. Not yet.
When Bruce had tried to look away, to pull away, because it had all simply been too much, his mother had caught him by the chin. She had pulled him close and held him steady, and she had not let him go.
But you already knew that, didn’t you?
And the truth is, just a few years ago, Bruce would have given anything to join his parents. To be at peace with them, wherever they were now.
But these days, he has so much to live for. He has early mornings and late nights with Clark. He has a standing appointment for afternoon tea every Tuesday with Diana. He has training with Barry, and long talks on the porch with Ms. Kent—call me Martha, please, Bruce—and he has this: the sprawling Kansan sky, stretching on for what feels like infinity.
If anyone, when he was younger, had told him that he would one day feel at home here, nestled amongst cornfields, Bruce would’ve laughed in their faces.
But nothing has ever turned out exactly as he thought it would—least of all his life. He thinks it’s probably for the best. Whatever his life has become, he would not have had the courage to dream of it, before. To make it real.
Clark finds his way out onto the porch some indeterminate amount of time later, in threadbare socks. The plaid blanket from the back of the couch is wrapped around his shoulders, and he looks warm. It’s so incredibly Clark that it settles something in Bruce’s chest, makes him feel at home.
Clark comes up behind him. Wraps the blanket around them both, and pulls Bruce back into his chest.
He nuzzles at the patch of silver behind Bruce’s ear. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” Bruce admits. He can feel his stomach rumbling, the smell of coffee and fresh bread wafting through the screen door from the kitchen.
“Want to head inside?”
“Not yet.”
Clark exhales deeply, and Bruce thinks it might be with relief. Clark winds his arms a little tighter around Bruce, mindful of stitches, of old bruises.
They have time, now.
Ms. Kent will be home soon, and there will be coffee in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. There will be quiet conversation that drags on into late morning, and there will be something homemade for breakfast. Clark will blush and laugh and dispute as Martha tells stories of his childhood, of his father. Alfred will call from where he’s on holiday in Paris, and he will tell Bruce to eat well, and he will call a hello to Ms. Kent as she passes by in the background of their FaceTime call.
Everything will be warm, and bright, and real—too real, so real that Bruce will have to pause, to take a moment, to let it all sink in.
For now, though, Bruce settles back into Clark’s chest. Lets Clark hold up his weight, hold them steady. And for the first time in a long time, he breathes easy.
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back to december (all the time)
Elain x Lucien (T) | Read on AO3
Once again, this goes out to the lovely @writtenonreceipts. Have a wonderful 2023! @acotargiftexchange
This story, which is the very first fanfic I've finished in the last ten years, would not have been possible without the great people of the BDSM server, and of course, @iftheshoef1tz and @houseofhurricane, my betas and incredible cheerleaders 💖.
All the love, and I hope the new year brings about paths that take us all to wherever we need to go.
back to december (all the time)
They are old friends, you could say. In the way that people who grew up in the same small town in the English countryside are. In the way that people who’ve known each other for longer than they haven’t are. In the way that people who’ve seen each other grow and change and fall apart are. But they’re not those people anymore. The Elain and Lucien standing here now haven’t known each other for years.
Lucien is always searching. Elain is afraid to be found. When life happens, they have to find themselves before making their way back to each other. Eleven years of twists and turns, hard decisions, old dreams, and new hopes.
elucien | modern AU | teen & up | 14648 words
IV. december 1997
“It’s supposed to bring you good luck! You know, a money tree,” Elain explains, gesturing to the plant she’s just placed on the bartop.
The shop glows in the golden light of sunset, boxes of what Elain assumes are decorations still unopened on the tables, on the floor. A tower of champagne crates by the door.
Vanserras know how to throw a party.
Beyond the windows, the sky is painted orange and pink and lilac, the wind carrying snow off of nearby tree branches. Not for the first time, Elain has the vague sensation that she is in two places at once.
“Eris will certainly be happy about the money part,” Lucien laughs before moving the plant next to the register, adjusting it until he’s pleased with the position of its leaves.
It’s just the two of them this afternoon, and it feels a bit like they’ve come unstuck in time. Around them, though new and sparkling clean, the space seems full, more than a decade’s worth of memories floating above the open shelves, crawling on the tiled floor.
When their hands touch while cutting open a big box of candles, when Lucien’s fingers linger on Elain’s, his warmth spreading up her arm, down her chest, it feels like surrender.
Two hours from now, their friends will arrive, ready to welcome the new year together.
Right now, though, the place is theirs and theirs alone. Elain’s mix, as Lucien fondly called it, is playing again on the speakers.
“I love this place,” Lucien says a while later, as he’s placing the last bit of silver tinsel on the front door. He speaks quietly, almost to himself, but Elain knows he wants her to listen. “I know it’s not—not London. Hell, it’s not even fully mine yet. But it feels right.”
“It is yours,” Elain answers, stepping closer, watching the last of the sun disappear behind Stow’s old church.
She wants to tell him that there’s a kind of magic to Daylight, to him, to the way everything he touches becomes brighter. That no one could mistake this place for anything but his.
But it’s the kind of thing that’s bound to sound cheaper than it feels, so she settles with looking around the room again, committing the space to memory. She wants to remember it, always, the way it is right now, in the silence of another year coming to an end.
All yours.
“I’m glad it’s here, you know?” she adds instead. “I remember thinking it could be—London. But I can’t imagine Ember there. Not the way she is here. I don’t think I can imagine you there anymore, either.”
She smiles, and it barely hurts at all, to imagine all the things they didn’t get to have.
“I would’ve killed the London mum scene.” Lucien smirks as he makes his way toward the cake display. He’s wearing dark trousers and a dark button-up that makes his hair look ever brighter.
When he moves to lift an empty crate off the floor, the muscles in his arm tense, and Elain finds it difficult to look away. “I trust that women who have birthed actual human babies would know better than to get involved in this mess,” she quips, hoping her tone will hide the way her throat goes dry when he faces her again, steps closer, lips twisted in a grin.
It’s never been like this. Not with Graysen, not even at the very beginning. Not with the men she had dated in university or after, when Lucien had left.
This has always been theirs.
“A mess, now, is it?” He touches her shoulder, and Elain hopes he can’t notice the way she shivers at the contact.
“Calling it like I see it.”
“Tell me then, what do you see,” Lucien says. It doesn’t sound like a dare. It sounds like an unlocking, like light spilling in. “What does the future hold for me, El?”
What does the future hold for me, El, she can hear him asking, now, and at twenty-two, and eighteen, and sixteen, a father, a man, a boy, placing his hopes in the palm of her hand. Enough trust for the both of them.
“That’s a big question,” she murmurs. All the ways their future might have turned out differently blend together in her mind.
“I’m not afraid of the answer.”
She watches his throat move when he speaks, remembers feeling the vibration under her cheek. It’s been so long since she’s last touched him.
“I might be,” Elain admits, but it doesn’t taste the way it usually does, like the fear might swallow her whole. It feels like letting go.
“That’s okay,” he smiles. It makes Elain unable to breathe, to think. “Fear hasn’t stopped you before.”
And oh, it has. It has. Too many times to count. In the same way that Lucien is all warmth, Elain thinks that, for a while, she was all fear.
“It’s stopped me from doing lots of things,” she whispers, and she finds herself moving closer, looking up, chest almost touching his.
Too many things.
“Like what?” His gaze drops to her mouth. A single shallow breath.
No more.
When Elain’s lips first press to Lucien’s, arms lacing around his neck, hands in his hair, she can’t help the gasp that escapes into his mouth.
Read in full on AO3.
#acotar secret santa 2022#elucien#elain and lucien#lucien and elain#elain archeron#lucien vanserra#acotar#acotar fanfiction#SJM#modern au
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