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rodricksfilipinagf · 4 days ago

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jinu from kdh? it can be anything but maybe he goes too far with his teasing n u and him arent dating? and you actually feel hurt so he apologizes in his own, fluffy way

✧･ﾟ: a/n : ooh my GOODNESSS i love kdh. i watched it recently and im on my knees for part twoo PLZZZZ. love jinu and abbyy

✧ Title: ✧ Golden, huh? ✧ ✧ Characters: Jinu x Reader, Mentioned: Saja Boys, Huntrix, Bobby + Miraa n Zoey ✧ Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Idol AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: As the leader of Huntrix, you're used to tough competition but when Saja Boys’ hit Your Idol, you've been overworking yourself to the brink of exhaustion, and when Jinu visits you while you practice one night, things just get tense. ✧ Content Warnings: Emotional teasing, mild injury (sprained ankle), idol rivalry, mutual jealousy, slowburn tension, fluff at the end !!

You’d been practicing alone for hours.

The studio was quiet except for the hum of the speaker and your own voice echoing off the mirrors. The chorus of Golden rang out again, soft and strained, as you pushed through the choreography one more time. You were tired. no, exhausted. but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything.

Not after Your Idol blew past Golden on every chart like it was nothing.

Saja Boys were everywhere. Their stage presence, their music, their absurd fan numbers. their stupid merch. It was all anyone talked about. Your girl group, Huntrix, was working hard, really hard, but it wasn’t enough. Not this time. And somewhere deep down, you knew it. But you weren’t ready to give up.

That’s when the door opened.

You didn’t look right away figured it was Bobby, or maybe Zoey and Mira checking on you. But then a familiar voice rang through the empty room. That stupidly cocky, know-it-all edge voice.

“Golden, huh?”

You froze, sweat dripping down your temple. You turned slowly, heart already sinking.

Jinu.

Of course.

There he was, leaning against the doorway with his usual smug expression, arms crossed pretentiously. His eyes flicked lazily over the studio, then back to you.

“Didn’t know this was a museum,” he said, stepping inside like he belonged in the damn room. “Didn’t realize people still practiced that one.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “What do you want?”

He shrugged. “Just heard something down the hall. Thought maybe the ghosts of flop comebacks were haunting the place.”

Your jaw clenched.

He smiled wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax. I’m just saying, not everyone gets to have their song go viral. It’s not personal.”

You stared at him.

He didn’t even blink. “I mean, maybe it is. Better hook. Better choreo. Better group. It happens.”

And something in you cracked.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. But your face sorta gave it away, your eyebrows furrowing just for a second.. That little shift in your eyes. The hurt. The frustration. The exhaustion suddenly starting to crash down on you.

Jinu saw it. He went quiet. Just stood there like he’d been slapped.

You didn’t give him the chance to backpedal or say sorry. You turned off the music, grabbed your stuff, and pushed past him with a cold, mumbled “Excuse me.”

He didn’t follow you, but he didn't forget that look on your face, either.

Later that night, you were limping down the stairs outside the building, ankle sore from the countless nights you spent practicing your choreography. Maybe a twist, maybe worse. You were alone. Hungry. Miserable. You hated that you let him get under your skin. Hated that his words stuck harder than the praise you’d gotten from your fans, and from Mira and Zoey.

You didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you until a voice muttered:

“Tch. You walk like an injured penguin.”

You spun around, glare loaded and ready. “Seriously? Again?”

Jinu stood at the foot of the stairs, hands in his pockets, frown tugging at his lips. But he didn’t look smug or pretentious this time. He looked… awkward.

“Didn’t think you’d actually hurt yourself,” he muttered. “Who am I kidding, you work too hard.”

You didn’t answer. Just turned to keep walking.

“Wait,” he said, tone shifting slightly. “Here.”

You blinked as he crouched down in front of you.

“…What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you a piggyback.”

“…What.”

“Your ankle’s jacked. Don’t make this weirder than it is.”

You stared at him, baffled. “Didn’t you say I was the ghost of a flop comeback, like, five hours ago?”

He winced. “Yeah. I was being a dick. I get it.”

Silence.

“Look,” he added, quieter now, “you looked… good. Earlier. When you were dancing. I didn’t expect that. It kinda pissed me off.”

You blinked. “Pissed you off?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “'Cause you were actually really good. And I… didn’t want to admit it.”

There was a beat. You didn’t know what to say.

So you let yourself lean forward. Arms wrapped around his shoulders. He steadied you by the thighs, lifting you up with ease, your chin resting against his shoulder as he started to walk.

You could feel his heartbeat.

Could feel him tense and relax all at once.

“…You’re warm,” you whispered.

He rolls his eyes, sarcastically this timee. “Don’t get used to it.”

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rodricksfilipinagf · 4 days ago

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Hooking Up with Jinu in the Bathroom

Pairing: Jinu x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, enemies to lovers, rough sex, name-calling, degradation, creampie, secret relationship, hook ups

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Because you all wanted more of him I'm delivering more Jinu. Not that it's too hard, I would have done it anyway.

This time you were the one who dragged him into a secluded place, unfortunately that said place was the club bathroom. He had the audacity to show up with the rest of the Saja Boys and act like everything was fine, grin at you like nothing had happened.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You asked angrily as his lips pressed against yours, as his hands lifted you against the bathroom door. "Showing up here. Do you have a death wish?"

Jinu laughed against your lips, his eyes shining, hips rolling into yours. "No death wish. I figured you'd miss me, after the last time. It was so much fun."

Growling you pulled his hair, making his cock twitch in his pants from the painful sting. You should leave, or you should try to defeat him once and for all, you should do anything but spread your legs wider and allow him to push your underwear to the side. "This is the bathroom, you perverted demon freak."

"Yeah, and you dragged me in here instead of kicking me and my boys out. Figured that was an invitation. I'll make it quick, make it good for you, so good, pretty girl." He spoke to you in a soft yet condescending tone, completely confidant too. You gasped when you felt the tip of his cock sink in. You didn't even register him taking his pants off, too distracted by weather or not you should tell him to fuck off or not.

Your legs squeezed around him instinctively when his hands left your hips to freely roam your body.

"See? You take me so well, so easily, like you were made for it, made to be mine." He didn't give you time to adjust to his girth, he slammed into you, wanting to hear you moan into his ear. "You sound so pretty when you sing but I like these sounds too."

"Stop. Talking." You warned before shutting him up with your hand. Jinu grinned against it and moved to take your fingers into his mouth. Your mouth dropped open in shock.

"Tastes like you. Were you fucking yourself just before this, in your room, thinking of me? Bet that's the case. You act all high and mighty and like you're better than me but all you are right now is a common slut. Taking my cock and loving every bit of it." His tongue moved to your wrist, his sharp teeth nibbling on your pulse point while his hips smacked against yours. "Think I'm gonna unload into you. Send you back out there dripping with my cum again. See how long you can hide it."

A shiver, a shamefully pleasant one, traveled through your body, made your pussy clench around his veiny cock. "I hate you. I should kill you. I should... oh fuck, fuck!" You rolled your hips against his when he stopped moving, your face hot with embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right, hate me all you want, fuck yourself on the cock of the man you hate, make yourself come from it. Hate me after, hate me forever, as long as you keep taking me like this." Jinu grunted and pressed his forehead against yours, his your breaths mixing, hot and heavy. "Gonna fill you up." It almost sounded soft, the way he said it.

Right before the now familiar feeling of his hot seed flooded your insides, painting your inner walls and your womb in white. "Ah, Jinu!" You moaned and repeated his name over and over, high and then low, clinging onto him, unwilling to let go.

Even when your body stopped shaking you didn't push him away, you let him kiss you, soft and possessive. He whispered something against your lips but you didn't quite catch it. "...you. I'll see you again soon."

"W-What? Mmmn!" You whined when you felt him pull out and set your underwear back into place like it could hold his cum in. You felt it dripping down your leg and white hot shame returned all at once. "Y-You!" He grinned even as you slapped him. "Seriously, what the fucking hell is wrong with you?! I can't go out like this! Why did I even let you do that?!"

"I wonder why, s-l-u-t." Right before your hand made contact with his other cheek he vanished, his smug, mocking laughter echoing around you.

"Fuck! Fuck! Why?! Why is he so...?!" You felt like you wanted to throw something. As much as you were angry at him you were also angry at yourself, for allowing, almost wanting him to do what he did, for him to take you as he did. It felt good and you hated yourself for acknowledging that.

This cannot go on like this. Next time, the next time Jinu tries something like this you have to put a stop to it, no matter how good it might feel, no matter how conflicted and confused you were about these feelings you were having about him and whatever this strange relationship now was.

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rodricksfilipinagf · 4 days ago

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Jinu Art

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rodricksfilipinagf · 4 days ago

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saja boys meeting you at a fansign

genre : fluff

contents : reader is not a fan of theirs and they take it as a challenge , mild beefing with jinu, baby saja aegyo im sorry,

you couldn’t believe you’d given in. your friend had been bugging you for days about this new boy group that had debuted and you were getting tired of it.

she had been blowing up your phone with edits, memes, and variety show clips of these guys non stop from the moment she caught wind of them. you didn’t understand what the fuss was all about at all. where did they even come from? no big company behind them, no obvious ties to the industry. you were convinced something fishy was going on.

totally not because they were charting higher than the groups you loved.

regardless of your opinion on them, you had ended up in line for their fansign and would have to act interested for the next hour.

“you’ll fall in love with them after seeing them in person y/n, i swear!” your friend had exclaimed, her phone in your face displaying the results of the fansign lottery she had entered god-knows how many times to win these tickets.

you looked around at the others in the queue as she tried to predict which member would be your favourite. god, everyone here is obsessed. every single person other than yourself was completely dripped out in saja merch. not a causal fan in sight.

that thought became solidified when the doors finally opened and security began to allow everyone in. utter chaos erupted from all around you. screaming, crying and shaking fans pushed you from every direction. all you could do was allow yourself to be moved by the crowd into the building.

the building was a decent size but the sheer energy of the fans was taking up a lot more space than the room was set up for. you’re pretty sure your feet got stomped on twice and your hair got yanked out of the style you’d put it in this morning amidst the chaos, as well as losing your friend in the crowd .

after around fifteen minutes of elbow-jabbing hell you managed to squeeze yourself through to your assigned seats only to find your friend already sitting there “jeez, that was insane” you laughed as you sat down, hoping your friend would joke back and make fun of the crazy people too.

she didn’t respond. her attention was glued to the empty table up front, her hands nervously playing with the lion keychain on her purse. your eyes widened a little in shock. you had never seen her like this; so wound up over celebrities that she’d only known of for a few days.

before you could tease her, the room erupted into crazed shrieks once again.

the saja boys had arrived. they walked out in a line, hair swooshing perfectly and jewellery swinging just like in all the ads. yeah, they were hot. you couldn’t deny that. but you live in the city, there’s hot people everywhere! you weren’t convinced to join the mass psychosis of the pride just yet.

the boys bowed and thanked everyone for coming before taking their seats and setting up for the signing. security started to choose people to line up, your friend being one of the first.

you could’ve sworn you saw the light leave her eyes for a second, shock overtaking her at the thought of being one of the first people to go see them up close. you put your hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“you’ve got this, go see them!” you smiled. as much as you thought she was overreacting, you knew she would beat herself up if she didn’t go up there. she nodded anxiously and let security guide her to the front.

you pulled out your phone and began recording her as she went along the line of idols, it was the least you could do for her after not being very enthusiastic about this whole thing.

once she finished chatting to the last member, she quickly skedaddled back to you and threw herself back down on the metal chair. the feet screeched across the floor a bit but no one noticed over the sound of her hyperventilating.

“oh my god, y/n……oh my god” she repeated, face in her hands.

you laughed nervously, worried that she would work herself up into a serious panic attack or something.

“mystery touched my hand…i can’t wash it ever again.” she choked out, showing you her very normal looking left hand.

“yeah…glad you enjoyed yourself” you said.

before you could show her the video you took, you felt a tap on your shoulder. a tall security guard stood over you in a defensive stance. he looked like he was expecting you to pounce on him.

“your turn”

your heart almost fell out of your chest, making you panic for a completely different reason. you couldn’t go up there, you weren’t sure you even remembered all of the members names. you weren’t a real fan, surely it wasn’t fair that you should meet a group you don’t even care about when there were thousands of people who would kill to be in your position right now.

“oh no thank you, i’m just here for emotional support. she can go again though!” you pointed towards your friend who was still cradling her hand like it had been blessed.

the security guard relaxed his muscles and stared at you as if you had just grown a second head.

“you don’t want to go? you need to go. it’s unfair if one fan gets double the time with saja boys. you have a ticket, you see them” he stated plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you looked to your friend for a second and mouthed a ‘i tried’ before reluctantly getting up from your seat and joining the line to meet the saja boys.

it takes you far too long to realise you don’t have anything for them to sign other than a crumpled napkin that’s been living in your back pocket for god knows how long.

jinu

the first member at the table is jinu. you know his name since he’s the one speaking in most of the promos and ads you’ve seen. he’s still finishing up talking to the girl in front of you but once she moves away he locks his attention onto you.

you look away awkwardly and sit down opposite him, only looking back up once you’re settled in your seat.

“hi” you say quietly, not really sure what to say to him. you’ve been to fansigns before but you’ve known the groups well and had so much to say to them that you’ve never had to worry much about there being an awkward silence before. this was a first for you.

he sees that you’re looking around a lot, not saying much, and assumes that it’s nerves. that’s the case with everyone he’s seen today. and the day before that, and the day before that.

“hey, no need to be nervous, what’s your name?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to try and meet your gaze.

your head shoots up, oh no he thinks you’re having a total fangirl freak out. you need to let him know that you’re chill and that he doesn’t need to do the whole loving idol shtick for you. it’ll make this a lot less awkward for both of you.

“oh nonono im not nervous, i just don’t have anything to say to you really” you start, laughing awkwardly.

“my friend dragged me here, i don’t even know all your names if i’m honest, i’ve only seen you guys do some ads and stuff and i’ve heard the song but i’m not too crazy about it so don’t worry about doing the whole ‘i care about you so much i love my fans’ act. i’m chill, you’re just some guy to me” you smile, genuinely hoping that it’ll relieve some tension from the situation and he can get a five minute break from being an idol while he chats to you.

jinus face completely drops. he looks a little disgusted even. he definitely didn’t take any of that as friendly and genuine. if he lifted a hand and asked for guards to seize you, you wouldn’t be surprised. shit.

“oh” he says, dumbfounded.

you stare at each other, both completely shocked by each others reaction. before the silence starts to make you itchy.

“my names y/n…by the way…” you blurt out, realising that he did ask your name.

something changes in him and you see it. like he’s been switched back onto regular programming. your slight moment of awkwardness reminds him that he does have the upper hand here. you’re not totally disinterested if you’re at least trying to make him comfortable–he can win you over. he smiles sweetly, relaxing his eyebrows.

“nice to meet you, y/n. i’m jinu, the leader of saja boys” he gestures over to the rest of the boys along the table.

“i would give you a heads up and tell you the names of the rest before you speak to them, but i think this is pretty funny” he says, his smile turning a bit sinister now that he’s switched his tone to teasing.

your mouth drops open. what an asshole.

you reluctantly hand over your napkin for him to sign, and he shoots you a confused look before flattening it out the best he can and signing his name with a little ‘:P’ next to it.

you narrow your eyes at him as you move over to the next seat, sticking your tongue out at him in defiance.

not like you care about the stupid beautiful saja boys names anyway

(you absolutely do now)

abby

you step over to the next chair and place yourself on it. sitting across from you is the second saja boy on the line up, one of the pink haired ones.

“hi” you say, meeting his eyes.

he says hello as he shifts in his seat, stretching his arms out behind him. you had watched him pull this move every single time someone new sat down in front of him so you were prepared to be met with his muscles up close.

what you weren’t prepared for though was for his shirt to come untucked from his jeans in the process, the waistband of his boxers daring to peek out from behind them and the shadows of his v-line revealing themselves to you.

the force it takes for you to wrench your eyes back up to look at his face could hold back an army. looking away feels like a sin. but you succeed. he grins when he makes eye contact with you again.

“want a copy?” he asks, pointing a finger to his stomach.

you don’t answer, but your face does. eyebrows screwing together in confusion.

he takes that as a yes and rips off a fresh piece of paper from a notebook he has on hand before slapping it across his lower torso and creating a tracing of his abs.

you can feel yourself gawk. who on earth does that? he seems so pleased with himself when he hands you the paper, signed.

“i won’t charge you any extra” he winks at you.

you can’t help but feel a twinge of admiration. he’s looking at you like a labrador that’s super proud of the hole it just dug in the garden. he doesn’t seem like he has any thoughts in his head at all.

you kind of like that.

“thanks.” you smile.

mystery

you slide into the seat across from saja number three, who’s already waving at you with both hands.

“hello” you say, waving back at him.

he’s wearing a longsleeved shirt that has thumb holes, giving him permanent sweater paws. it’s cute.

you decide to comment on it since he seems shy and being the first to speak might make things a little less awkward.

“i like your shirt. i used to cut holes like that into my school uniforms.” you admit, smiling at the memory. although yours was the result of crappy d.i.y. and his definitely cost most than your months wages.

he nods excitedly before creating claw shapes with his hands so you can see better. maybe he just doesn’t speak at all?

you stare at him for a little bit before snapping out of it and sliding your napkin over to him for him to sign. he takes it from you and goes to reach for a pen, but there’s none on this part of the table.

you start searching too once you notice what he’s looking for, but there are none on the floor or in the pen pot that’s sitting right next to him.

he grabs your attention quickly by waving his hands around frantically before raising a single finger to his lips in a ‘shhh’ motion.

next to him abby is posing, muscles on display for the fan in front of him. he’s so busy checking himself out through the fans eyes to notice mystery stealing his whole pot of pens.

you share a mischievous giggle with mystery as he triumphantly signs his name.

they all seem pretty close, maybe they aren’t a perfectly manufactured cash grab group after all.

romance

by the time you reach the fourth member he is covered in a ridiculous amount of hair accessories, necklaces and bracelets that have been gifted to him by fans. you scoot over to the seat across from him and try to keep a straight face as he removes a pair of huge sparkly pink sunglasses that were given to him by the last person.

“ah there we go, i can see your sweet face properly now” he says casually, placing the glasses down on the table.

you almost gasp out loud, the image of him looking so silly completely wiped from your memory. god that was smooth.

he takes the napkin you’ve been getting signed straight out of your hand, letting his fingers brush the back of your hand briefly.

“what’s your name, love?” he asks slowly, with the confidence of someone that knows his face would send poets mad.

“y/n” you stutter out. you aren’t sure how to speak to this guy who’s flirting so heavily with you, even if you suspect that he’s definitely like this with everyone.

he nods, as if it’s obvious.

you watch him as he signs his and your name together in a heart with a little plus in the middle.

he doesn’t comment on the napkin, you’re not sure if he even notices. he’s looking at you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world, his dopey, loved up gaze piercing through your soul.

you reach to take the napkin back and he takes your hand as you grab it, flipping your hand over and kissing the napkin on top of your open palm.

there’s a faint lip gloss kiss-mark on it now. you didn’t even notice he was wearing any. he looks as if he wakes up in the morning with perfectly shiny lips.

god y/n snap out of it.

you don’t know how long you were just staring at each other for but before you could keep track you were being ushered to move to the next seat.

it takes you another hour until you notice the phone number daintily written around the heart.

baby

you finally reach the last member of the group and notice that he looks super young. he’s definitely the scary rapper that your friend always talks about, you remember something about his ‘crazy duality’.

he had been watching you as you were talking to the other members, unbeknownst to you. its not often they come across people that don’t care much for them already so he’s interested in speaking to you.

“this your first time seeing us?” he asks. it wasn’t a question really. he knows the answer, he just wants to see what you’d say.

you’re taken aback a little by how deep his voice is compared to his youthful face and the way he is styled. the fluffy pastel jumper doesn’t exactly scream baritone.

“uh, yeah. didn’t know a thing about you guys until today actually” you laugh awkwardly, sliding him your napkin to sign.

he takes it from you and nods, signing his name with bejewelled fingers.

“are you a fan now?” he asks cheekily, looking up at you with sparkling eyes. you try not to pay attention to his dimples and the way his cheeks seem to puff up like dumplings when he smiles.

“ah, i’m not sure. i’m just here for my friend” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible even though your words aren’t the kindest.

he scans the crowd briefly before locking eyes with who he assumes you came here with. you look over your shoulder too, towards your friend. she has her phone in the air, recording. yeesh.

the cogs start to turn in his mind, if he cant make a fan out of you now he should at least give you something to watch over and over until you become one.

“aww you’re not a fan of baby saja?” he pouted, grabbing your hands and placing them on both of his cheeks. he keeps his hands on top of yours for a good few seconds, running his fingers over yours while he holds them there.

you stare, shocked. this level of fan service is crazy, you think. you won’t be surprised if security come in and wrestle you away from him right now. surely this isn’t allowed.

“i might be…” you trail off, struggling to find anything else to say when you’re holding his face in your hands so tenderly.

“good!” he chirps, letting your hands fall away from him. he slides your napkin back over to you and waves you off “thank you for coming !”

he knows you’ll be back.

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rodricksfilipinagf · 21 days ago

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i need more santana x rlly fem resder PLSSSS I BEGG

merry ex-mas ★ santana lopez x fem!reader

as the age-old saying goes: every sexy mrs. claus needs her slutty elf

word count: 3200 (how tf did this happen) warnings: sexual innuendos, santana being horny asf

christmas is about giving back.

at least that's what rachel told you when she signed you up for this gig against your will. apparently your means of "giving back" included managing hoards of screaming children as an elf at the midtown mall. the stuff of dreams, really.

"there's no way this is allowed," you say, emerging from the backroom and gesturing to the elf get-up you're wearing.

not that you don't like it, but the skintight strapless mini dress, thigh high stockings, and red heels seem appropriate for a strip club, not a children's event.

"i feel like i could get arrested for wearing this around kids."

"hey, on the bright side, i know you'll get tips," kurt says, both his and rachel's eyes glued to your figure. rachel looks like she's going to spiral into a lecture about how your outfit is single handedly setting the feminist movement back fifty years, while kurt looks rather impressed. "you look hot. i know someone is not going to be able to keep it in their pants," kurt says, exchanging a knowing look with rachel.

"god, i thought it was christmas, not my birthday," santana chimes in, right on cue.

you turn to find her walking toward you, her gaze very obviously fixed on where the hem of your dress barely covers your ass. she makes a show of dragging her eyes up and down your body with that annoying little smirk that says you're in for it now. you know it well.

you're about to shoot back with something snarky when you finally notice what she's wearing.

after santa was a no-show, rachel forced santana into playing the role of mrs. claus. except this was not the mrs. claus you were familiar with.

santana's fitted in a red velvet dress with white fur trim, cinched at the waist with a black belt, and it's barely more modest than your dress. the sleeves are slipping perfectly off her shoulders and showing even more of her tanned skin while a santa hat hangs lazily off the side of her head. she struts toward you in those black knee high boots and you hate how she makes you stutter on your words. you hate even more how she knows it, judging from the way she challenges you with the raise of an eyebrow.

"got something to say, elf?" she says, stopping right in front of you with her hands on her hips.

god, she's the worst ex on the planet. she has been for the months she's been living with you, kurt, and rachel. it took every shred of your dignity not to succumb to her charm as she pranced around your apartment, blatantly flirting and teasing you. you don't know is how much longer you can resist her.

you swallow the lump in your throat.

"you look good, santana," you say as cordially and platonically as you can, making sure to keep your eyes on hers and nowhere lower. santana clearly doesn't have the same concern.

"thanks, hot stuff," she says, leaning toward you. the sickening nicknames were another one of her evil tactics. "you look..." she starts, eyes wandering once more and smile growing. "dangerous."

you hate the way her voice gets low, like she has you exactly where she wants you.

"can you be normal? just for today?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. the action inadvertently makes your cleavage pop, something you only realize when santana's eyes flicker downward and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

"definitely not when you look like that," she says. "someone's gonna need to hold me back if we're gonna get through this shift."

you roll your eyes, turning away from her and pretending like your heart isn't beating a little faster. you can feel her eyes shamelessly following you as you walk away.

boy, is this going to be a long shift.

for the next six hours, your job is to lead each of the anxious kids to mrs. claus and place them on her lap. it's a dream come true for santana.

she lazily lounges on her red throne, one leg crossed over the other like she's watching a private show. she tunes out whatever the sweaty kid on her lap is yapping about in favor of watching you step forward and approach the next kid.

she thanks god that all the kids are so tiny because it forces you to bend down and place your hands on your knees in order to meet them at eye level. she nearly chokes on air the first time you do it. if she thought the view was great before, this was a different level.

santana makes sure you hear the way she sighs every time you bend over right in front of her face, your dress riding up so high it should be illegal. you try your best to ignore her in the moment, but when you turn around with the little kid's hand in yours, it's hard to ignore the way she looks at you, like she wants to devour you whole.

kurt ushers the last kid away as you place the next one on her lap. she doesn't even look at the kid, just stares at your cleavage. she feels like it's taunting her as you bend toward her, helping the kid onto her lap. you can feel her gaze burning a hole through you, but you avoid eye contact.

as she adjusts the kid in her lap, she intentionally places her hand right over yours where it's still on the kid's back. you feel her fingers wrap possessively around your wrist and you finally cave, your eyes meeting hers. you immediately regret it when you catch her smug expression.

"thanks, sweetheart," she says, lips twitching upward at the nickname.

only then do you realize that you're still frozen, bending over her lap when you should have moved away seconds ago. you quickly snatch your hand out of her grasp and step back while pressing your lips together in a thin line, trying not to show that her stupid teasing is actually working on you.

unfortunately for you, she already knows. she asks the kid what he wants for christmas, then she looks back up at you, a knowing, satisfied look on her face.

she takes your moment of weakness as an invitation; suddenly, her hands are all over you.

she's toying with the little bows on your stockings when you stand beside her chair, occasionally letting her hands trail up your thighs and excusing her actions as a "slip of the hand." she revels in the trails of goosebumps she leaves up and down your legs.

"lint," she mumbles, a half-hearted excuse to wipe her hand over the front of your dress. her eager fingers linger far too long to be friendly.

when you're helping a kid off her lap, her hand finds your hip, steadying you with a hard squeeze. not that you needed any steadying to begin with.

you're barely able to control how your body naturally responds to her, her touch burning your skin like a wildfire each time. you attempt a glare every now and then, though they don't disguise your feelings well. santana only smiles devilishly.

it all comes to a head when she leans forward in her chair, reaching up toward your face.

"you got some lipstick right..." she trails off, thumb finding the corner of your lip. your brain lags, leaving you completely defenseless as she slowly drags her finger downward across your bottom lip. "there," she finishes, her finger slightly wet from where it skimmed the inside of your lip. you can only stand there, looking stupidly down at her. "much better," she grins before leisurely licking her thumb for dramatic effect.

that's when rachel and kurt start to notice santana's wandering hands.

"can you stop sexually assaulting the elves?" rachel finally intervenes. "it's workplace harassment."

"first of all," santana says, raising a finger and adopting that vindictive tone she reserves only for rachel. "i'm mrs. claus, so all you spoiled little elves answer to me. second, it's not harassment if she likes it."

your lips part as if you're about to protest, but nothing comes out.

"see," santana says, glancing over at your speechless form. "she isn't denying it."

you sure as hell aren't. not when her little touches and comments are making you feel like that excited high school kid again. the one who fawned over santana and could barely go an hour without her lips on her skin.

she's so blatant that even the kids pick up on it.

"are you dating that elf?" one particularly loud boy asks, an accusatory finger pointing directly at you.

you're temporarily dumbfounded by his audacity, but santana picks up the slack.

"i'm working on it. you got any tips for girls that play hard to get?"

"alright! great job!" you suddenly insert yourself, practically dragging the boy away from her. you mouth a sharp "stop it," but santana's taunting smirk tells you she's not listening any time soon.

you can't even speak to her from then on, each interaction more damning than the last. nevertheless, when you're standing idly beside her throne, she grabs your arm and subtly tugs you down so your ear brushes against her lips, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"y'know, i'd put you on the naughty list, but i think you'd like that too much," she whispers.

or: "you look so cute in that outfit, but i'd love to see you in just the hat."

you nearly choke on your own saliva when she says: "you know, if it weren't for all these eyes, i would've already bent you over santa's chair and made you-"

"santana!" you whisper-shout, recoiling from her so quickly that she can't help but laugh. she's not taking any of this seriously. "not in front of all the kids!"

"relax," she says, hand coming to your waist. she calls it a success when you don't move away from her touch. maybe you even ease into it. "i think the kids agree with me," she says, nodding toward the next boy in line.

he's clearly entranced by you, his eyes fixed on your dress and his mouth hanging open. she grins back at him, amused.

"you and me both, buddy!" she shouts, laughing like she's never seen anything funnier. you only drag a hand down your face, praying the boy's parents didn't heard any of that exchange.

"you're going to be the death of me," you murmur, dragging yourself away from her.

"that's the plan, sugarplum!"

but when you are forced to talk to her, she makes it as hard as humanly possible.

"santana, can you hand me the box of candy canes?" you ask, back turned to her.

no response.

"santana?" you ask again, louder this time. you glance over your shoulder and she's still there, lounging on her throne, casually inspecting her nails. she definitely should have heard you.

"santana!" you shout, attempting to draw her out of whatever trance she's in. until you realize she's ignoring you on purpose.

you roll your eyes, firmly holding your hands on your hips as you simply stare, waiting for her to acknowledge you.

"sorry," she says absentmindedly, gaze still fixed on her cherry red nails. "i don't know anyone by that name."

you shoot her a confused look, one she can feel without even looking up, but then another kid runs up to her.

"mrs. claus!" the little girl shouts.

"hi, honey!" santana grins, reaching down and picking her up.

and then it clicks. that's what she wants.

you stand there, nails digging into your hips and grimace taking hold on your face, until the little girl leaves. santana still doesn't acknowledge you.

you sigh, already regretting the words that are about to leave your lips.

"can you pass the candy canes, mrs. claus?"

santana's head whips toward you, a smile spreading across her lips. she hums, satisfied, reaching for the box without taking her eyes off you. just as she extends the box and you reach out to grab it, she pulls back.

"say please," she says, lips jutting out in a fake pout.

you narrow your eyes at her, but she doesn't budge. she only grins wider.

"just give me that," you huff, lunging forward and snatching the candy canes out of her hand. she lets you take it, but not without noticing your hand graze her chest in the process.

"if wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask," she purrs, brushing her hair over her shoulder to grant you a better view. you grumble something nonsensical under your breath about how much you hate her, but not without sneaking another glance at her.

she notices because of course she does.

"god, you're so cute when you're grumpy."

when there's a lull in the line, she reaches into the box of candy canes, selecting one and unwrapping it slow enough that it catches your attention. she lets it dance between her fingers for a moment before she slowly slides it between her lips, tongue swirling around the red and white stripes. her eyes never leave yours.

she can see you stiffen from where you're standing on the other side of the set, so she tilts her head back, letting you see everything that you're missing.

"jesus christ," you mumble, forcing yourself to turn away from her. you can't deny the pulse of heat that overcomes your body just thinking about her lips wrapped around the candy. it's a scene right out of a bad porno.

when she's done, you know from the exaggerated popping sound of her lips.

"sweet," she drawls, knowing you're listening even if you pretend not to be.

your shift drags on into the hours of the evening, santana tempting you relentlessly while your resolve wears thin, until the mall is finally closing.

you release a sigh of pure relief as the last family disappears. you turn, ready to follow kurt and rachel into the backroom and finally be rid of this sorry excuse for an elf costume, until santana beckons you back with one final trick up her sleeve.

"hey, elf," she calls out, voice laced with something arrogant.

you sigh, simply exhausted, before turning toward her with your hands on your hips. she's still sitting in her big red chair like she owns the place.

"you've been such a good little helper today," she says, flattening her skirt. "why don't you come take your turn in mrs. claus' lap, huh?" she asks, patting her thighs.

your brain short circuits. the way she's looking at you like you're the only thing in her orbit, the way she's slightly spreading her legs for you, how good she looks. it's too much.

"yeah, you wish," you say, voice less than steady. you should turn away and leave. you really should. but something keeps you there, staring back at the daring look in her eye.

"come on, baby, i know you wanna," she says, hands now rubbing her bare thighs, pushing her skirt up in the process. you don't have enough willpower to look away anymore. "you can pretend all you want, but i know you miss me."

maybe it's the exhaustion getting to you or maybe it's what you had wanted all along. either way, you find yourself checking your shoulder, ensuring there's no spectators. then you look back at her and realize that you don't care about playing this game anymore, about resisting temptation. you just want her.

in no more than a few steps, you make your way across the set and drop yourself into santana's lap. and you're not even perched tastefully on her leg like the kids were, you're fully straddling her lap like it's second nature.

the moment you land on her, you see the astonishment flash across santana's face. she can't believe that her antics have actually paid off, but she doesn't let you sit with satisfaction of her surprise. it's gone as quick as it appeared.

"merry christmas to me," she says, smiling wider than you've seen all day. her hands quickly grab onto the back of your thighs, holding you tight like she's afraid you'll run away. and god, it feels so good. it's even better than you remember.

your hands slide over her bare shoulders before grabbing onto the back of the chair, ensuring your chest is flush against hers.

"happy now?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper and breath ghosting over her cheek.

she's trying to keep it together, but you can tell she's the one the losing her mind now. her clenched jaw and focused eyes are tell-tale signs that she's trying to hold herself back, trying to keep control.

"yup," she says, looking up at you like you hold the key to the world. the key to her world. "best view in the house."

"good," you say, hand falling against her shoulder and pushing her back against the chair. she's more than content to let it happen, especially as you lower your face toward hers. her gaze not so subtly flickers down to your lips. "aren't you gonna ask?"

she doesn't respond for a second, too enthralled in you.

"huh?" she asks, lips open ever so slightly.

"aren't you gonna ask me what i want for christmas, mrs. claus?"

she whispers a barely audible curse under her breath, hands trailing up your body to claw at your waist over that dress that's been driving crazy all day. she swallows. don't you know what you do to her?

"what...what do you want for Christmas, baby?"

her lips are right there, practically twitching in excitement. and for a second, you think you'll finally surrender to this magnetic pull she seems to have over you. she leans in, nose grazing yours and lips parting like she's already imagining kissing you.

but at the last second, when you feel the slightest brush of her skin against yours, you find your willpower. your fingers curl tightly around her shoulder and harshly push her back into the chair once more, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.

"wouldn't you like to know."

then, out of fear that you'll fold if you stay any longer, you slide off her lap with a practiced ease. she scoffs, dramatically throwing her head back against the chair, though she's not as annoyed as she is in awe. you spare her an unreadable glance before you turn and leave her there.

now it's santana's turn to curse you out under her breath, especially as you walk away and don't even bother to pull down your dress when it rides up your thighs. as much as she was trying to push you over the edge for the past six hours (which she eventually achieved), you rocked her world in a single moment.

and as you try to convince yourself that it was a total mistake, despite the warmth lingering low in your stomach, santana has only one thought and it's louder and more confident than ever.

she's gonna get you back.

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