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alygator77 · 2 days ago

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.˚✶˚. motherhood and matrimony ・❥・ wrapped in love .˚✶˚.

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ series summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ chapter summary. christmas morning at the gojo estate has always been a display of elegant grandeur—but this year, the true magic is found in the quiet, heartfelt moments shared with you. for satoru, it’s a holiday that finally feels like home.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. pure tooth rotting fluff. satoru being the best step dad. lots of domesticity. it does get a bit suggestive at times.

ꨄ words: 12.6k

ꨄ a/n. this is a part of my series motherhood and matrimony, however it can also be read as a fluffy holiday oneshot (you'll probably appreciate some of the references more if you've read the series though!) this entire ch is written from satoru's perspective! also, for those that have read the series, i would definitely read this after ch 7 ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist ꨄ series masterlist ꨄ

side ch // wrapped in love

Christmas had always been a spectacle at the Gojo estate. Extravagant decorations that seemed to glisten with the weight of their price tags, a towering tree so grand it nearly grazed the vaulted ceilings, and a meticulously curated guest list for the Gojo’s annual holiday gala.

Business, wrapped in tinsel—topped with a bow.

Yes, for Satoru Gojo, Christmas always felt cold. Not the kind of cold that nipped at your nose or made you long for a crackling fireplace—it was the emptiness of grandeur.

Growing up in the Gojo estate, Christmas wasn’t a celebration; it was a stage. Takemi Gojo orchestrated the performance with precision, weaving an illusion of family warmth while the frigid reality of their relationship sat heavy within the corners of the mansion.

Twinkling lights adorned every surface, crystal ornaments shimmered under the tree’s glow, and tables overflowed with feasts meant to impress, not to savor.

His father had called it tradition. Satoru had called it lonely.

And from a young age, Satoru had learned that gifts were currency, not sentiment—the meaning of the season buried beneath layers of duty and pretense.

But this year… something was different.

Satoru lounges on the couch, long legs sprawled out as he watches you and Haru at the tree. You crouch low, holding an ornament in your hand, gently guiding Haru as she reaches up to find the perfect spot.

Her giggles fill the room like the sound of bells, bright and contagious, and she claps her tiny hands when the ornament finally stays.

Turning to her, your smile and the warmth in your expression is enough to melt something in Satoru’s chest.

It’s a feeling he can’t quite name—foreign, yet achingly familiar. Like standing outside during the first snowfall—the cold biting at your cheeks, but the beauty of it stealing your breath.

For the first time, Christmas doesn’t feel like an obligation. It feels like… home.

But it isn’t the decorations, nor the estate’s grandeur—it’s you. It’s Haru. It’s the way you’ve taken this cold, hollow place and filled it with laughter, warmth, and life. It’s the way you’ve turned this house into a home—a home he doesn’t want to leave.

“What do you think, Satoru?”

He blinks, glancing up at you—your voice pulling him out of his reverie. You were holding up two ornaments, one red and one blue, with a quirked brow and a soft smile.

Haru, meanwhile, was standing on her tippy toes, trying to reach the highest branch she could manage.

“Oh, uh… hmm?”

You roll your eyes with mock exasperation, shaking the ornaments for emphasis.

“Red or blue? We can’t have both; it’ll clash. Focus, Gojo.”

His lips twitch into a lazy grin as he leans back, folding his arms behind his head.

“Oh, definitely blue,” he says with a teasing lilt. “It matches my vibe better. Don’tcha think?”

You snort, rolling your eyes with a grin—muttering something about his ego—and as you turn back to Haru, Satoru takes the opportunity to watch you again.

The sight of you—your hair falling loose over your shoulders, the way your smile makes even your oversized sweater seem elegant—It isn’t just the room you light up. It’s him.

‘Gifts are just another transaction, Satoru. A display of wealth and power.’

His father’s voice lingers in his mind, sharp and cold as ever. But you—you’ve shown him a different kind of wealth. One that can’t be bought, or wrapped in shiny paper.

And for the first time, he feels it. Not the chill of the season, but… the warmth of belonging.

But with that warmth comes something else—something he’s not used to.

Panic.

Christmas is just days away, and for the life of him, he has no idea what to give you.

He’s Satoru Gojo. He could buy you anything. Diamonds. Designer clothes. Hell, an entire island, if he felt like it. Money has never been an obstacle—it’s always been a solution.

But when it comes to you, every option feels… wrong.

You—who sighs in exasperation at the estate’s staff, grumbling about how you’re perfectly capable of pouring your own glass of water, thank you very much.

You—who pokes at the extravagant feasts from world-class chefs, saying they could feed an entire village, yet they still couldn’t make your favorite comfort food the way you liked it.

You—who wrinkles your nose at his pretentious lifestyle, rolling your eyes every time he casually mentions the price of something without even realizing.

A necklace dripping in diamonds? You’d probably say it was heavy to wear. A vacation to a private island? You’d tell him you’d rather spend the time with Haru in the backyard, making snow angels.

A car? A house? Exquisite art? Fuck, a horse?

None of it feels enough.

He groans quietly, running a hand through his hair, cursing himself under his breath.

When did this happen? When did he get so comfortable letting his guard down around you, so at ease that now, sitting in his own home, he feels utterly vulnerable? Utterly lost?

And worse, he knows you can probably sense it.

“Satoru.”

Your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, drawing his attention back to you.

Standing a few feet away, the soft glow from the Christmas tree casts a gentle light on your features—a slight furrow to your brow as you tilt your head, holding a new ornament in your hand.

“Are… you okay? You look like you’re plotting something.”

He straightens instantly, schooling his features into an easy grin, but it’s a little too late for that—you’re watching him too closely, as if trying to unravel the puzzle in his head.

“Me? Plotting? Never.” He leans back, resting an arm across the top of the couch. “Just wondering if we need a bigger tree. This one’s lookin’ a little small.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously, and for a moment, he wonders if you can see straight through him.

You always do.

“Satoru,” you deadpan, and fuck—he knows he’s lost. “This tree is ten feet tall.”

He shrugs, as though you’ve just proven his point.

“Yeah… but like… wouldn’t fifteen feet look better? That’d be a real statement.”

Your groan comes with a roll of your eyes, but it’s paired with the grin he was hoping for.

“Sure, let’s just knock down the ceiling while we’re at it. Maybe put the Empire State Building in here for good measure.”

He chuckles, relieved by your sarcasm, and for a moment, his deflection works—you turn away, back to the tree. He watches you carefully loop another ornament onto a branch while Haru tugs at your sweater, babbling about a penguin ornament.

But as soon as your attention has shifted, it’s back—that gnawing uncertainty, that quiet panic clawing at the edges of his mind.

Good lord, when did this get so hard?

He’s Satoru Gojo. He can charm his way through anything, pull the strings of the world’s most powerful people, and yet he’s paralyzed by the thought of picking out a gift for you.

The longer he thinks about it, the worse it gets. You deserve something perfect—something thoughtful. But what does perfect even look like?

What do you give someone who doesn’t want anything money can buy? How does he give you a gift that carries the weight of what you’ve given him?

“Santa’s gonna like our tree, right, Mama?”

Haru’s voice rings up like a bright chime, tugging him back to the room—to reality.

He watches as you glance down, and a soft smile blooms across your lips as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind Haru’s ear. That look—the one you reserve for her, the kind that could thaw glaciers—hits him squarely in the chest.

“He’ll love it, sweetheart.”

Your voice is as light and sure as the snow falling gently outside the frosted windows, and Haru grins, pivoting to Satoru now.

“’toru!” her face lights up like the tree behind her, “Santa’s coming! He’s gonna bring presents, and cookies, and he loves hot cocoa!”

Raising a brow, Satoru slouches further back into the couch with that practiced ease—masking the chaos still whirling behind his nonchalant façade.

“Hot cocoa, huh? With marshmallows?”

Haru nods so hard, her little curls bounce and her entire being vibrates with conviction.

“He loves marshmallows! And cookies. And maybe waffles too.”

Satoru huffs out a soft laugh, his smile easing.

“That’s a pretty sweet deal for Santa,” he murmurs.

With all the grace of a puppy on ice, Haru scrambles up onto the couch cushion beside him, wiggling her way into place. Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, though it’s far from quiet.

“Mama makes the best hot cocoa. We should have some.”

The confidence in her tone makes him snort quietly, and he raises a brow—playing along.

“The best, huh? Mmm.. I dunno. That’s a pretty big claim, kid.”

“It’s true!” she insists.

And then there’s your laughter—soft, light, and entirely unguarded as it floats from behind him. It’s a sound he’s learned to treasure, one he’d bottle up if he could, a warmth that sinks beneath his skin and quiets everything else.

He swears it’s one of his favorite sounds.

“You know what? That’s a good idea,” you say, ruffling Haru’s hair as you step behind the couch.

But then, you pause beside him, leaning down to press the faintest kiss to his temple—a feather-light touch, and it strikes him like a match catching fire, warmth unfurling from that single point of contact.

Oh, how he loves the touch of your lips.

“I’m gonna grab some hot chocolate—with marshmallows, of course,” your hand brushes briefly through his hair before pulling away. “Watch Haru real quick, yeah?”

Tilting his head back to look at you, he swallows down the tightness in his chest, masking it all with another lazy smirk—because he doesn’t know how to show you just how much that tenderness means to him. How much he loves when you touch him like that, so unthinking, like it’s natural.

And for Satoru, masking it is second nature—it always has been.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ve got it covered,” he waves you off with a dramatic flick of his hand.

You roll your eyes with an affectionate huff, and he lets himself watch you for a moment longer as you disappear into the kitchen, your humming trailing softly behind you like a ribbon that tethers him to you.

And then, silence.

The moment the door swings shut, he lets out a slow, quiet exhale, the tension uncoiling from his shoulders as if he’s been holding himself together for too long.

He slumps back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion, feeling the ghost of your touch where your fingers had been in his hair. With a sigh, he runs a hand through the same spot, smoothing the strands down absently as if he can capture what’s already gone.

It’s ridiculous how much you’ve undone him. How a single kiss, a fleeting touch, can dismantle the person he’s spent so long pretending to be.

Because in those fleeting moments, when it’s just him and the lingering warmth of you, Satoru Gojo—the man who never lets his mask slip—realizes just how tightly wound he’s become. Just how much of himself he’s spent trying to hold it all together when, in moments like that, you make it so damn easy for him to fall apart.

He closes his eyes for just a breath, letting himself feel it—the calm, the weight of it all, the way his heart stirs.

But then—

A sudden rustling sound shatters the quiet, pulling him sharply from his thoughts. One eye cracks open, blinking lazily as he scans the room.

His gaze lands on Haru, and the breath leaves his chest in a sigh that’s somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

There she is—somehow, in the span of seconds—teetering precariously on the armrest of the couch, her tiny arms outstretched like she’s on a tightrope, her face scrunched in determination.

Satoru stares at her for a beat, utterly disheveled and utterly defeated. His head tilts lazily to the side as he watches her.

“Oi,” he drawls, dragging a hand down his face with a groan that’s more exasperation than anything. “Munchkin. What do you think you’re doing?”

Haru doesn’t even flinch. She grins, wide and triumphant, wobbling dangerously like a baby deer.

“I’m tall, ‘toru!”

He blinks at her, deadpan, before letting his hand fall limply to his lap.

“Yeah? Well, you’re also gonna fall on your face.”

“Nu-uh!” she insists, wiggling her feet against the cushion for emphasis.

“Kid…” He straightens with a reluctant sigh, reaching out with one hand, just in case she topples over. “You’re gonna get me in trouble. You do realize your mom’ll murder me if she catches you pulling stunts like this, right?”

Haru giggles—loud, unbothered, entirely unfazed.

“It’s okay. I’m good!” she declares proudly, as if she’s just conquered Mount Everest.

“You sure about that?” Satoru raises a brow, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. “Because… you’re about two seconds away from face-planting into the tree. And I’ll tell ya right now—Santa’s not gonna bring you anything if you wreck his setup.”

Haru freezes, her expression suddenly serious.

“He won’t?”

Satoru shrugs, as casual as ever, though there’s a sly gleam in his eye.

“Nope. Santa’s big on the whole naughty or nice thing, you know? Pretty sure ‘tree-destroyer’ lands you on the naughty list.”

Haru’s jaw drops like he’s just shattered her entire world.

“But I’m nice!”

“Yeah, well…” he sighs dramatically, “You’re not exactly convincing me right now, short stack.”

She gasps—a flurry of tiny limbs as she clambers down from the armrest in a dramatic tumble onto the cushions.

“I’m nice!” she insists again, louder this time, as if sheer volume might make it more convincing.

Satoru huffs out a laugh, ruffling her hair in an act of surrender.

“Yeah, yeah… crisis averted, princess. You’re nice. I’ll put in a good word for you with the big guy. Just… no more stunts, kay? Santa’s watching.”

She squints at him suspiciously, like she’s testing the limits of his authority over Santa Claus, before finally settling back with a small huff.

But then, Haru shifts entirely to look at him—her brows pinching together, her tiny face suddenly serious.

The shift catches him off guard—how a two-year-old can go from giggling chaos to this kind of weighty focus will always baffle him.

“‘toru.”

He quirks a brow, leaning an elbow against the back of the couch.

“…yeah?”

“You hafta tell Santa to get Mama something.”

The words catch him off guard. His grin falters just a fraction as he blinks, straightening a little to study her tiny, earnest face.

How the hell does this kid always seem to know exactly what’s on his mind?

“Oh yeah? Something for your mom, huh?”

Haru nods solemnly, as if she’s just handed him the most important mission of his life.

“Mhmm. Santa forgot last year.”

At that, his heart stumbles, the smile fading from his face.

“W-What? He… forgot?”

“Uh-huh.” Haru props herself on her elbows, swinging her feet idly against the couch. “Mama didn’t get a present.”

The simplicity of her words hits him like a punch to the gut. Innocent and unassuming, but full of a truth she doesn’t fully understand.

Satoru doesn’t respond right away, his mind suddenly swirling.

That unsettles him. The fact that no one thought to bring you anything at all?

You—who pours so much of yourself into others, who has brought a warmth into his life he didn’t think he deserved—spent last Christmas with nothing?

No gifts. No family. No one?

He hates the thought. He knows it shouldn’t surprise him though... you’ve never asked for anything, and it’s not hard to fill in the blanks.

You don’t talk much about your family—he knows there’s distance there, silence where there should be connection—and Naoya, well… he was never part of the picture. But still, the realization knocks something loose in Satoru, a quiet ache settling into the spaces he didn’t know could hurt.

“It’s no fair, ‘toru. Mama’s nice too!”

Satoru swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair as he forces a smile back onto his face.

“Yeah… you’re right, kid…” he murmurs quietly. “Your mom’s on the very top of the nice list.”

Haru beams, her hands clasping together like she’s already imagining the magic of Christmas morning.

“Tell Santa, ’kay? Mama needs something really nice.”

The simplicity of her words hits him like a sledgehammer.

Something really nice.

As if it’s that easy, as if fixing the pieces of your world can be done with one perfect gift. But to Haru, it is that easy. Because to her, Santa fixes things.

And for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo feels the weight of expectation—not from a boardroom, or a title, or the world that demands he be untouchable—but from a tiny girl who trusts him implicitly to fix the one thing he’s been so afraid to get right.

Fucking hell. Now he’s back to square one. What the hell is he going to get you?

He leans back into the couch, one arm draped lazily along the back, but his mind is already turning—the gears clicking into place.

“Something… nice, huh?” he says softly, more to himself than to her.

Haru beams, her little legs kicking against the cushion again as she settles back, satisfied that her request has been heard.

“Yup!”

Satoru tilts his head toward her, studying her with a thoughtful squint. Kids always seem to know the answers to things grown-ups can’t figure out. She’s managed to pry into his thoughts with frightening accuracy already, so maybe—just maybe—she’s his best shot at figuring this out.

After all, who knows you better than Haru?

“Well…” he says after a beat, angling a glance toward her, “what do you think Santa should bring your mom then?”

Haru gasps—like this is the most important question she’s ever been asked—and sits up straight, her little face lighting up.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He flicks her nose lightly, earning a squeak and a giggle. “You know your mom better than anyone, right? So… what do you think she wants for Christmas?”

Haru’s brows furrow as she thinks very hard, her tiny hands tapping against her chin for emphasis. Satoru watches her expectantly, the smallest spark of hope flickering to life in his chest.

“Well…” she starts slowly, drawing the word out as though she’s stalling for time. “Mama likes cookies.”

Satoru blinks. “Uh… cookies?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods solemnly, as if this is the most serious answer in the world. “Chocolate cookies. With milk. I like them too.”

Ah… right. To Haru, the solution is simple—because to a two-year-old, happiness is simple. And for a moment, Satoru envies her for it.

Satoru exhales sharply through his nose, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he humors her.

“Of course you do, princess. Alright. Noted. So Santa’s supposed to bring your mom cookies. What else?”

Haru’s face lights up as another thought strikes her, and she bounces slightly in place.

“Oh! A teddy bear!”

“A teddy bear?” Satoru quirks a brow, half-amused, half-resigned.

“Yeah!” Haru stretches her arms out as wide as they’ll go, as if trying to contain the sheer size of her vision. “A big one. Pink! Really fluffy. Mama can hug it.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. So much for getting a serious answer out of her.

“Okay... so cookies and a big pink bear… anything else?”

Haru pauses again, tapping her chin with her finger like she’s pondering the great mysteries of the cosmos. Then—her eyes go wide, and she gasps, louder this time.

“A pony!”

Satoru stares at her, deadpan. “Really? A pony.”

“Uh-huh!” Haru nods emphatically, little curls bouncing with enthusiasm. “Pink! With sparkles.”

“A… sparkly pink pony?”

“Yes!” She beams, practically vibrating with excitement. “Mama can ride it. I can ride it too. And—and we can give it cookies!”

That does it.

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him before he can stop it, his shoulders shaking as he slumps back against the couch.

With a deep groan, he drags a hand down his face like she’s aged him ten years in two minutes.

He’s getting nowhere.

“Kid… you’re killing me here. Cookies, a teddy bear, and a pony? You’re just listing stuff you want.”

Haru puffs out her cheeks, crossing her arms in protest.

“Nuh-uh! Mama likes ponies. And cookies. And bears.”

Satoru sighs again, tilting his head back against the couch with an exaggerated groan.

This kid.

Her world is so simple—so bright and innocent. Cookies, teddy bears, and ponies.

Haru doesn’t overthink it. She doesn’t make it complicated. To her, happiness is just that—simple.

And maybe… that’s what he needs to remember.

They’re terrible suggestions, but she’s right about one thing: you deserve something really nice. Something that makes you smile—something that feels as bright and simple and warm as Haru’s world.

And if Santa won’t fix it, then damnit, he will.

“Everything okay in here?”

Your voice calls out lightly, followed by the soft clink of mugs. The moment Satoru hears you; he straightens a little, his casual mask snapping back into place.

Stepping in, a tray balances carefully in your hands, three steaming mugs of hot chocolate wobbling precariously as you nudge the door shut with your hip.

The smell hits the room before you do—sweet, rich cocoa laced with the sugary promise of marshmallows—and Satoru thinks that it might as well be magic, with how Haru perks up.

“Mama!” she bounces on her knees so enthusiastically; Satoru thinks it’s a miracle the couch doesn’t catapult her into orbit. “Yay!! Hot cocoa!”

“Mhmm. Hot chocolate delivery!” you announce proudly, lowering the tray onto the coffee table with a dramatic flourish and a smile of pure satisfaction. “Marshmallows included, as requested.”

The soft glow of the Christmas tree dances in your eyes as you kneel in front of Haru, carefully handing her a small mug.

“Two hands, Haru. It’s hot, okay?”

Haru nods solemnly, as if you’ve just bestowed upon her the Holy Grail itself. Her little fingers curl reverently around the mug, and she murmurs softly, “’kay.”

Rising, you hand Satoru his mug next, and he clears his throat—mumbling a quiet “thanks.” When you settle on the couch beside him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulder brushes against his—your own mug cradled in your hands.

For a moment, it’s calm. The Christmas lights flicker across the room like soft, lazy stars, the cocoa steaming faintly in the air, and Satoru almost lets himself believe this is pure perfection.

But then you ask it.

“And what were you two talking about?” you peer between the two of them with a teasing smile. “I heard lots of giggling.”

Satoru freezes, his mug halfway to his mouth. He’s ready to spin some ridiculous excuse—he’s a master at bullshit, after all—but before he can get the words out, Haru beats him to it.

“We were talking about presents!” Haru announces proudly.

Fuck. That tiny traitor.

Satoru schools his expression, plastering on his best lazy grin as if Haru hasn’t just sold him out for free. He doesn’t need you catching on to the fact that he’s been silently losing his mind trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas.

You arch a brow, amused as you blow lightly on your cocoa.

“Presents, huh? What about presents?”

Haru doesn’t even hesitate. She launches into her list like a kid on a mission.

“Mama, ‘toru is gonna tell Santa we need cookies. And a big pink bear. And a pony!”

Satoru lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relaxing fractionally against the cushions. Of course. The kid’s list is nonsense—pure, two-year-old chaos—and she’s so earnest about it that you’ll never suspect Satoru was fishing for information.

He’s safe.

“Uh-huh,” you hum, nodding indulgently as you sip your drink. “Sounds like quite the Christmas list, sweetheart. Anything else?”

Satoru almost smiles into his mug. It’s ridiculous how close he was to panicking—there’s no need.

But as Haru stops, her face scrunches in concentration before it lights up again. She looks straight at you, eyes wide and earnest, as she adds brightly:

“And I want a little brother!”

Oh, shit.

Satoru chokes—actually chokes—mid-sip, sputtering and coughing like he’s forgotten how to drink liquid. You don’t fare much better, nearly inhaling your cocoa as your head jerks up, eyes wide as saucers.

“A—what?” you croak.

Satoru’s shoulders shake, one arm flung over his face as he tries to muffle his laughter. It’s no use—his wheezing breaths betray him, and he can’t help but grin through his coughs.

“Haru, kid—”

“A little brother!” Haru repeats, utterly unfazed by the chaos she’s unleashed. Her tiny hands still cradle her mug, looking up at you with innocent conviction. “Santa can bring one. Like how he brings the toys.”

Satoru peeks out from behind his hand, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as his laughter tumbles out in unfiltered bursts.

Oh, this is gold. Pure gold.

You whip your head toward him so fast he thinks you might pull something. Your cheeks are flushed—whether from the cocoa or mortification, he’s not sure—and your glare could cut steel. It would have him worried for his life if it weren’t so damn funny.

“Satoru Gojo, what did you say to her?”

“Me?!” he splutters, desperately trying to get his composure back. He throws his hands up in mock innocence, laughter shaking in his shoulders. “Hey, don’t look at me! That’s all her!”

Haru blinks at the two of you, her expression perfectly innocent.

“Santa brings presents, right? So he can bring a brother. A nice one. And he’ll ride the pony with me.”

Your hand flies to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shake your head, biting back the laughter threatening to spill out.

“Haru… sweetheart, that’s… not how it works.”

“Why not?” she asks, and it’s like she genuinely can’t fathom why Santa wouldn’t pull through on such a reasonable request.

Satoru, finally breathing normally again, leans forward with his elbows on his knees—the smirk on his face nothing short of diabolical.

“Yeah, Mama,” he drawls, dripping with mischief. “Why not?”

Your glare sharpens as you turn toward him. “Do not encourage her.”

“Hey,” he’s utterly unrepentant as he leans back lazily, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “I’m just saying—if Santa’s listening, we wouldn’t want Haru to be disappointed, right?” Tilting his head, he smirks at you. “Looks like Santa’s got his work cut out for him this year.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as Satoru lets his laughter spill out again, unbothered and thoroughly entertained.

Meanwhile, Haru hums to herself, swinging her legs and sipping her hot chocolate contentedly.

“It’s okay, Mama,” she assures you with a confident nod. “Santa’s magic. He can do it.”

ꨄ

The past few days had been a blur of snow, laughter, and tiny hands tugging Satoru in every direction.

If someone had told Satoru Gojo that he’d spend his holiday season wrangling a two-year-old in the snow and actually enjoying himself, he would’ve laughed them out of the room. But here he was, standing knee-deep in the white fluff while Haru shrieked with glee, launching another snowball his way.

“Take this, ‘Toru!” she cried.

The kid’s aim was absolute trash, her snowballs missing him by a mile, but the way she shrieked with delight when Satoru “pretended” to get hit—well, it made it impossible for him not to play along.

“Kid, you’re ruthless,” he’d groaned dramatically after she tackled him into the snow for the third time.

And then there was you. You—standing off to the side like some winter painting coming to life—warm coffee in hand, wearing that smug smile he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss or wipe clean with a snowball.

He swore you’d been the one to tip Haru off about aiming for his knees. Traitor.

The snow had been Haru’s personal playground—and, by extension, his. For days now, his life had been an endless stream of winter chaos: sledding trips that left his muscles aching (Haru’s favorite phrase seemed to be “One more time!”).

Oh, and inside the Gojo estate? More chaos, pure and simple.

Haru’s Christmas cookie baking turned into an all-out war zone—flour dusting the countertops, chocolate chips mysteriously vanishing before they made it into the dough (a crime Satoru was not-so-secretly guilty of), and Haru wearing more icing than she’d used.

Still, the chaos didn’t bother him. He was struck, again and again, by the realization that this—this messy, chaotic, perfect life—was because of you.

And the high-end galas you’d been forced to attend as the faces of the Gojo Corporation—the press, the flashing lights, the constant conversations—all of it felt easier with you beside him.

And you? Well… you carried yourself with a poise that Satoru was genuinely impressed with. But beneath that, he could tell that these past few weeks had taken a toll on you.

You were exhausted.

The late nights catching up on work, the charity events, the endless holiday prep—you hid it well, but Satoru noticed the way your shoulders slumped when you thought no one was looking. The way you sighed as you kicked off your heels by the door.

And it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

It wasn’t just the exhaustion, though. It was this look in your eyes—something wistful, like you were watching all the joy and chaos around you, but holding yourself at a distance.

Satoru didn’t like that. Not one bit.

And still, despite everything, he hadn’t figured out what the hell to get you for Christmas.

The frustration simmered under his skin, gnawing at him whenever he thought about it. You deserved something perfect—something that would remind you how much you were loved. But every time he thought he had it, every idea felt wrong.

Too extravagant, too impersonal, too damn meaningless.

And now, tonight, as he sits at the kitchen table pretending to sip his hot chocolate (while sneaking glances at you sorting through Christmas cards), the idea struck him like a light bulb flickering on.

If he couldn’t figure out the gift just yet, there was one thing he could do.

He could give you a moment. Just one night to breathe—to feel cared for.

Leaning back in his chair, his legs stretch out underneath the table as he watches you—that little furrow of concentration in your brow. You aren’t even faintly aware of how tired you look, or notice when his voice breaks the quiet silence.

“Hey.”

You hum absently, still focused.

“Tomorrow night, don’t make any plans.”

Your gaze lifts, brows raising slightly as suspicion flickers across your face.

“Okay… why?”

“Mmm… ‘cause I’m kidnapping you,” he teases, folding his arms behind his head. “Just dress warm. It’s a surprise.”

That earns him a proper look—you eyeing him skeptically, your lips twitching like you were already fighting back a smile.

Bingo. That’s the look he lives for.

ꨄ

The night air is crisp, biting at his cheeks in a way that’s sharp but oddly pleasant, like winter itself is showing off. Snowflakes drift lazily from the dark sky, glowing gold as they pass through the light of the estate’s lanterns, and the world is blanketed in that perfect kind of quiet—soft, still, almost fragile. A nice kind of quiet.

It’d be perfect, really, if not for the sound of your increasingly dramatic sighs cutting through it.

Satoru tugs his scarf higher around his neck, not because he’s cold—he never seems to feel the cold—but because he’s trying to hide the grin pulling at his lips. He glances over his shoulder to find you trudging through the snow like a grumpy little marshmallow, bundled so thoroughly in your coat and scarf that you look like you’re about to tip over.

“You’re gonna freeze to death if you keep trudging like that,” he calls easily over the snow, making no effort to hide the amusement in his tone.

“I wouldn’t have to trudge if you’d slow down, Gojo,” you snap back, and your exasperation is muffled slightly by the scarf wrapped around your face. “Not everyone has legs like a damn giraffe.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unbothered, a puff of white against the dark sky. Deliberately, he slows his steps to a near-comical saunter, his boots sinking into the snow with every exaggerated step.

“Better, princess?”

“Barely…” You catch up, though you don’t look particularly grateful about it. “I swear, if you keep dragging me through the Arctic tundra—”

“Oh, come on,” he interrupts, stopping in his tracks. His grin is pure mischief, bright even in the dark. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“It died about twenty feet ago,” you mutter, shoulders hunching as you try to burrow deeper into your coat.

He holds out his hand to you with a dramatic flourish, fingers wiggling like he’s offering you salvation itself.

“Here,” his sighs affectionately. “Before you collapse and I have to carry you.”

You stare at his hand for a long moment, clearly torn between taking it and smacking it away. The tension only makes his grin widen.

“C’mon now… you’ll bruise my ego if you say no.”

With a sigh that sounds like a thousand reluctant decisions being made at once, you slip your gloved hand into his. It’s small and warm, even through the layers, and Satoru’s grin falters for just a second when he feels your fingers curl around his.

Did he just get butterflies? That’s dangerous. He’s gotta keep it together.

“Atta girl…” he says softly, a bit too softly for his own comfort. But he covers it up with a gentle tug, pulling you closer as the two of you trudge forward.

The path winds through the trees, the branches drooping under layers of snow. Some of them stretch over the walkway, woven with twinkling lights, so it feels like you’re walking through some kind of enchanted tunnel.

It’s the kind of thing that could make anyone believe in magic, and Satoru would probably be soaking it all in… if he wasn’t so preoccupied with watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Your nose is pink, your cheeks dusted with color from the cold, and there’s a light in your eyes that makes something stir in his chest. He tugs his scarf a little higher, like that’ll help somehow.

Then, just ahead, golden light spills onto the snow. A sleigh comes into view, and Satoru slows his steps as you round the corner and see it.

It’s impressive, even he has to admit. The carriage looks straight out of some over-the-top fairytale, polished black and draped with garlands of evergreen—dusted in fresh snow. Strings of soft golden lights wind along the edges, glowing warmly in the dark.

The horses, two massive creatures with sleek dark coats, stand tall and still, their breath misting in the air. Tiny bells dangle from their bridles, giving a soft jingle every time they shift.

It’s almost too picturesque, like something out of one of those cheesy Christmas movies Satoru always pretends to hate.

He doesn’t look at the sleigh, though. He looks at you.

Your eyes go wide, your mouth parting slightly in surprise, and for a moment, you’re so still he wonders if the cold finally got to you. The snowflakes catch in your hair, the glow of the lights reflecting in your wide-eyed expression, and there it is again—that quiet spark that makes his chest tighten.

“Well?” he breaks the silence with a quiet murmur. “Was it… worth the trek through the Arctic tundra?”

You blink, dragging your gaze away from the sleigh to look at him. There’s something different in your expression now—softer, quieter.

“You did all this?”

He shrugs, slipping his free hand into his coat pocket and forcing a grin onto his face.

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“Ridiculous…” you murmur, shaking your head with a faint smile, but there’s no edge to your words. Just that quiet disbelief, like you’re still trying to figure him out.

He gestures to the sleigh with an exaggerated sweep of his hand.

“Well? You gonna stand there and let the snow bury you, or are you getting in?”

The driver steps aside with a polite nod, and Satoru’s already moving to help you—steadying you as you step up into the sleigh, his hand lingering at your waist.

When you settle into the plush seat with a quiet exhale, Satoru’s brain takes a quick pause to tell himself that he’s absolutely screwed.

Because if Satoru thought walking through the snow with your hand in his was dangerous, this is a death blow.

But he still climbs in beside you, moments later—tugging the blanket over your laps as the sleigh jolts softly forward.

The bells chime faintly as the horses’ hooves crunch against the snow. They carry you both down the path, allowing the forest to melt away completely as the sleigh crests a small hill, and suddenly, the town comes into view—a world awash in color and magic.

Lights shimmer from every surface—woven through trees, strung like ribbons between lamp posts, wrapped snug around shopfronts as though the entire place has been dipped in starlight.

Shop windows gleam with warmth, framed by wreaths and garlands dusted with frost, while displays of tiny trains, glowing reindeer, and spinning nutcrackers turn slowly behind the glass.

As the sleigh turns fully onto the main street, Satoru glances at you, and predictably, you’re completely mesmerized.

He knows, because you’ve gone completely still beside him—your breath visible in the cold as you take it all in—and he doesn’t even bother to look at the lights anymore, not when you’re staring at them like you’ve stumbled into a dream.

That glow in your expression—soft and open—that’s what mesmerizes him. And the reflection of the lights in your wide eyes gives him the urge to bottle this moment—keep it tucked in his coat pocket forever, so he can pull it out and look at it whenever the world gets too loud.

The bells from the horses chime softly, blending seamlessly with the hum of life ahead—children laughing, carols echoing, the soft crunch of fresh snow.

But Satoru can’t focus on any of that.

Snowflakes have caught in your hair, little flecks of white like frost spun from the lights above. Your lips, soft and faintly parted, are far too close to his line of sight, and his gaze catches there for longer than it should.

Satoru’s brain is short-circuiting.

He’s never been good at this. Restraint. Holding back. Not when it comes to things he wants, things he craves—and God, does he crave your lips so badly.

You shift slightly, burrowing deeper into his side with a soft hum of contentment that nearly knocks the wind out of him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you murmur suddenly, as soft as the snow.

He clears his throat lightly, tipping his head back in a lazy attempt at distraction—trying to focus on literally anything else.

“Yeah… not bad,” his voice carries the faintest edge of smugness. “Bet you’re glad I dragged you out here now.”

You hum softly, a little laugh under your breath.

“Yeah… guess I’ll give you this one.”

But as you shift slightly again, your head tilts, and your gaze lingers on something ahead.

In the square below, a father spins his daughter in his arms as she shrieks with laughter—bright red mittens flailing in the air. The mother stands beside then with a warm soft smile, brushing the snowflakes gently out of the little girl’s hair as she settles still.

It’s simple—a fleeting moment of joy—but Satoru notices the way your expression changes. The glow in your eyes dim, just slightly, fading into something distant, something far away.

He doesn’t like it.

It’s not the first time he’s seen that look either. It’s lingered in your eyes at odd moments during the month when you think he isn’t watching.

“Hey… you okay?”

The question snaps you from whatever memory you’ve fallen into. You blink quickly, turning to him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What? Oh… yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s a lie. A bad one.

Satoru knows it instantly because your voice wavers, just slightly, and your hands fidget under the blanket like they’re looking for something to hold onto.

He doesn’t push right away. Satoru isn’t great at handling fragile things—he’s all big, teasing words and careless confidence—but seeing this?

You—retreating into yourself, suddenly quiet? Yeah… it never really sits right with him.

“You know…” he starts carefully, voice softening as he watches you, “you’ve already heard all about my old man. But you… you don’t really talk about your family much. What was Christmas like for you growing up?”

The words settle like snow between you—soft, quiet, but heavy. You stiffen slightly.

Fuck. Maybe he’s said too much. Regret flickers in the back of his mind. He’s half-expecting you to deflect.

You hesitate, staring at the lights again as though they’ll save you from answering, and for the first time, Satoru curses those damn Christmas lights. They feel like they’re pulling you away from him.

But then you sigh, and the sound makes something twist low in his chest. It’s too careful. Too practiced.

“Mmm… there’s not much to talk about,” you admit quietly. “My parents weren’t exactly… involved, so Christmas wasn’t really a thing for us.”

Satoru doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches you carefully, like he’s waiting. He knows there’s more, and he’s careful not to push, not yet.

“I used to watch all the Christmas movies, though,” a faint wistful smile tugs at your lips. “The ones where families sat by the fire… wrapping gifts and baking cookies, singing carols together. It felt… magical. Safe. Like they belonged there.”

The smile slips slightly, and Satoru sees the moment the words shift—when they stop being a memory and start being something else entirely.

“But…” your voice dips to a whisper, “Honestly it was like watching through a window. I felt like a spectator. Always outside looking in.”

There it is.

The words hit him square in the chest, sharp and unrelenting, and Satoru hates it. Hates how small you sound when you say it, like you don’t realize how wrong it is for someone like you—you—to feel that way. It makes his jaw tighten, his fingers twitching faintly under the blanket.

“That’s not fair,” he blurts out, faster than he means to. The sharp edge in his voice surprises even him, but he doesn’t care. “I hate it. It’s not right. You shouldn’t have had to feel like that.”

Your head turns slightly, your eyes flicking back to him, startled.

“Satoru—”

“It’s not fair,” he repeats, reining it in slightly this time. He shakes his head, turning to look at you fully now. “And you know what? It’s not like that now. You’ve done the exact opposite.”

You blink again, your brows furrowing faintly.

“What do you mean?”

The surprise on your face makes him huff a quiet laugh. He can’t believe you don’t see it.

“C’mon now sweetheart… I mean, look at Haru.”

Your expression softens at the mention of her, and Satoru feels that familiar twist in his chest—this inexplicable warmth that’s only grown stronger since you and Haru came crashing into his life.

“She’s a happy kid,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve made her a happy kid. Kind of a little terror sometimes—definitely gets that from you—but happy nonetheless.”

You roll your eyes faintly, but there’s a tug at the corner of your mouth that you can’t quite hide.

“Seriously,” he continues, a smirk teasing at his lips now. “That kid lights up at the dumbest stuff—like that ornament she found with the penguin in a Santa hat. You’d think she struck gold. She made me stare at that thing for ten minutes straight.”

You groan, pressing a gloved hand to your face, but there’s a small laugh behind it now.

“She did the same to me.”

Satoru chuckles, low and easy, though his expression softens as he looks at you.

“Because to her, it is magic. You made that happen. You gave her something real, something she’ll hold onto forever. The kind of magic you didn’t have.”

You open your mouth like you want to say something but can’t quite get there yet, and he leans in closer.

“And it’s not just her…” he murmurs hesitantly. “You’ve done that for me too.”

His blue eyes fix on yours with a quiet vulnerability, and your brows furrow faintly as you stare at him.

“What? Really?”

For a moment, Satoru freezes.

Vulnerability isn’t something he’s good at—it doesn’t come naturally to him; he’s always kept people at arm’s length. But somehow, around you, it slips out easier than he expects. Like you’ve managed to dismantle his walls one smile, one moment at a time.

Around you, he doesn’t have to try so hard. And it’s fucking terrifying.

His throat tightens, but he shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing—even though he knows it’s everything.

“Look… I used to sit in these massive rooms my dad filled with people. All the decorations, all the noise—he made sure it looked perfect. Trees the size of small buildings, tables stacked with enough food to feed an army.”

Satoru pauses, his blue gaze flickering to the snow-dusted path ahead before settling back on you.

“But… none of it mattered. I’d sit there, surrounded by hundreds of people, and still felt so damn alone. Like I wasn’t really there, y’know?”

Your face softens, and he feels it again—that warmth that only seems to exist when you’re looking at him like this, like you can see straight through him. You always do.

“But now?” he exhales, breath curling into the cold air like smoke—his eyes meeting yours fully. “Christmas feels… different. Doesn’t feel so empty anymore.”

“…yeah?”

“Yup…” he shakes off the tension with a sigh, and smugly adds, “You’ve officially ruined Christmas for me, sweetheart. Thanks a lot. Can’t have it any other way now.”

Your laughter comes quietly, and God, there’s that sound that he loves again. Your gloved hand finds his underneath the blanket.

“Well…” your fingers curl around his. “Thanks to you, I finally don’t feel like a spectator anymore… ‘cause you’re in my life.”

Shit.

Satoru swears his heart trips over itself. For a guy who never feels the cold, he’s never felt this warm.

The sleigh jolts suddenly, rolling over a bump in the snow, and the movement sends you swaying against him with a soft gasp.

You’re so close—close enough that he can see the faint blush on your cheeks, the soft part of your lips as you glance up at him.

Your gaze flickers—just once—down to his mouth.

That’s it.

He leans in, his hand slipping out from under the blanket to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly along your skin as he kisses you.

The first press of his lips against yours is careful, tentative, but then you sigh softly, tilting your head slightly, and Satoru’s restraint snaps like a wire pulled too tight.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, as Satoru tilts your face up to meet him properly. His other hand finds your waist, the curve of it fitting perfectly under his palm as he pulls you closer—closer, because he needs you like he needs to breathe.

He swears he’s losing his mind.

You respond just as eagerly, your fingers curling into the front of his coat, and Satoru groans softly against your mouth—equal parts relief and desperation.

He’s screwed. Utterly, completely screwed.

Because now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to stop. All he can think about—all he wants—is to pull you into his lap right here on this stupid sleigh and kiss you until the world stops spinning.

His mind betrays him, flooding with images he has no business thinking about right now. Your legs straddling his hips, your coat slipping off one shoulder, coaxing sounds from you that he’s dying to hear—fuck he’s losing himself completely.

He wants to take you—away from the prying world, away from everyone—somewhere that’s just the two of you—home.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because even Satoru Gojo can’t survive without air forever. But he doesn’t go far. His forehead rests gently against yours and his thumb brushes softly along your jaw.

The corner of your mouth curves faintly and your eyes linger on him—just enough to make his heart skip like it’s forgotten how to work.

It’s torture. Absolute, pure, devastating torture.

His thumb drifts lower along your jaw, reverently tracing the soft line of it. He could stay here forever, just like this—your breath mixing with his in the cold air, your lips pink and kiss-bruised from him.

God, you’ve never looked more beautiful. He wants more.

Shifting slightly, his breath fans across your lips as he murmurs, “You’re so perfect… you’re making this really hard for me, y’know that?”

Blinking up at him, your lips tug into a soft, teasing smile. “Oh?” you murmur, breathlessly. “And what exactly am I making hard, Satoru?”

His breath hitches. Shit. You’re going to be the death of him. He chuckles softly—strained and fraying like his self-control.

“Careful, sweetheart. Keep asking questions like that, and I might just take you home right now.”

Tilting your head, your voice lowers—a quiet challenge.

“…why don’t you, then?”

God, what the fuck are you doing to him?

For a moment, he wants to say screw it. Forget the stupid sleigh, the town, his plans. Forget the world and take you straight to bed where he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

Take her. Have her all to yourself.

But then your wide, daring eyes lock onto his, and it hits him—you’re playing him—you’re winning. And Satoru Gojo does not lose.

With a slow, shaky breath, he pulls back just slightly. The smirk curling at his lips is lazy, practiced—masking the fact that he’s literally about five seconds from falling apart.

“Mmm… tempting,” he drawls, brushing the pad of his gloved thumb against your bottom lip. “But I’m not that easy to break, sweetheart. Besides, we’ve got more to explore.”

Your eyes narrow faintly, suspicion flickering beneath the teasing curve of your lips.

“You’re unbelievable…”

“Mm, you say that now,” he sighs, “But you’ll thank me later.”

You scoff quietly, rolling your eyes as you lean back just an inch.

“More to explore, huh?”

“Yeah.” His grin widens, lazy and lopsided. “And if you’re good, I might even let you hold my hand the whole time.”

ꨄ

“You’re going to rot your teeth, you know,” you say, watching as Satoru unwraps yet another snickerdoodle cookie—his fifth, by your count.

“Excuse you.” He pauses dramatically, holding the cookie up like it’s a priceless artifact. “I’m single-handedly funding this poor vendor’s retirement. Call me generous.”

You snort into your hot chocolate.

“More like you’re single-handedly making sure they run out of stock before dinner.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He takes a slow, deliberate, obnoxiously loud bite, eyes locked on you the whole time. “I’m boosting the economy, sweetheart.”

“You’re boosting your dentist’s next paycheck, honey.”

Satoru groans, tossing his head back like you’ve just deeply insulted his honor.

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t appreciate the artistry of sweets like I do.”

“Oh, I appreciate them,” you retort smugly, tugging him away by his coat sleeve before he can eye the next vendor’s table. “I just don’t inhale sugar like I’m storing it for winter.”

“Amateur,” Satoru quips, biting into the cookie with dramatic flair. “You’ll learn.”

“Yeah yeah… I’m cutting you off before you go into a sugar coma.”

“Cutting me off?” He presses a hand to his chest like you’ve insulted his entire existence. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” You grin victoriously, striding ahead of him through the snow-dappled streets.

“Cold. Heartless. A tyrant, really.” Satoru’s voice follows dramatically as he trudges after you, shoving the final bite into his mouth with zero shame. “This is abuse, I tell you.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely.”

The two of you wander together through the town, your shoulders brushing every so often as you pass small stalls and shops.

The shop windows glow faintly, wreaths and garlands framing every corner, and the air smells of roasted chestnuts and warm cinnamon.

You stop suddenly ahead of him, your steps faltering as your gaze locks onto the massive Christmas tree at the center of the square.

Satoru follows your gaze, and the thing is ridiculous—exactly the kind of over-the-top nonsense Satoru’s father would brag about back in the day. Towering, glittering, competing with the stars like it thinks it has a chance.

But for once, Satoru doesn’t care about the ridiculousness. He only cares about you.

You stand perfectly still, staring up at the tree with something quiet and awed in your expression, like you’ve forgotten the rest of the world exists.

The golden lights catch in your eyes, snowflakes drifting lazily into your hair, and the faintest pink lingers across your cheeks from the cold. You’re glowing—and maybe it’s the lights, or maybe it’s just you.

You look perfect. You look his.

There’s that urge again—capturing this moment, bottling in up, keeping it for himself.

The feeling is so sudden, and before he can second-guess it, his hand slips into his coat pocket, pulling out his phone.

The shutter clicks.

Your head whips around instantly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Did you just take a picture of me?”

Satoru freezes, phone still half-raised, trying to look as nonchalant as a man caught red-handed can. “Nope.”

Your eyes narrow further, shifting on your feet. “Satoru.”

“I was… texting someone,” he says weakly, his grin betraying him.

“Texting who?” you press, eyebrow arching.

“Santa,” he deadpans. “Telling him you’re being mean to me. Again.”

The flat look you give him is priceless. “Good lord. You’re impossible.”

Satoru grins triumphantly, twirling the phone between his fingers like a magician showing off a trick. “Fine, fine. You caught me. I couldn’t help it. You looked cute.”

The faint flush of your cheeks deepens slightly—probably the cold, he tells himself, but he’ll take it anyway.

“Let me see it.”

“Not a chance.”

Your glare sharpens, and Satoru swears you’re plotting his demise. “Satoru. Hand it over.”

He snorts, immediately shoving the phone into his coat pocket. “You’re cute when you’re bossy, you know that?”

You step closer, determination lighting your expression. “I will fight you.”

“You wanna wrestle me in the middle of town?” Satoru raises a smug brow, delighting in the way you’re glaring up at him. “With kids around? Heartless, sweetheart. Absolutely heartless.”

Before you try to snatch his phone from his coat pocket, he moves faster—his arm looping lazily around your waist, tugging you into his side with practiced ease.

The suddenness knocks you off balance for a moment, and you let out a soft, startled laugh. Satoru can’t help but grin, using the moment to pull you even closer.

“Alright, alright…” he murmurs, pulling out his phone. “Here. Let’s take one together. Our first real photo together—no work, no press. Just you and me.”

You blink, your eyes flickering up to meet his, the faintest surprise crossing your face. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, though the warmth in his voice gives him away. “Gotta document the occasion. Might be the only proof I have that you tolerate me. C’mon, lean in.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s no hiding your smile as you let him pull you closer. He adjusts the camera, keeping his arm secure around you.

“Alright,” he says, angling the phone just right. “Say ‘Gojo Satoru’s the love of my life.’”

You snort, laughing as you nudge him. “I’m not saying that.”

“Mmm… I’ll wait.”

Your laughter bursts through the square, bright and unrestrained, just as the shutter clicks. Before you can recover, Satoru leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as he steals another shot—your laughter caught mid-breath.

“Hey!” you yelp, pulling back to glare at him, but you’re still smiling.

Satoru grins down at the photo as he flips the screen to show you. “Look at that. Photographic evidence that you adore me.”

You gape at him, incredulous. “Adore you?”

“Yep.” He winks, tucking his phone back into his pocket before you can swipe it, catching your hand instead. “Captured for infinity. You’re welcome.”

Your grip tightens on instinct, and you open your mouth to argue, but Satoru beats you to it.

“C’mon,” he swings your hand lightly as he starts pulling you forward again. “The candy stall up ahead has fudge.”

ꨄ

The two of you wander back through the streets, hand in hand as the shops blur by in warm, golden streaks of light.

Satoru doesn’t mind wandering—especially when it means you tugging him along by the hand, pausing every so often to peer into window displays. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you light up at the smallest things.

But then you stop abruptly in front of one shop in particular.

It’s so sudden that Satoru nearly keeps walking, your hand tugging him gently to a halt. When he glances over, he follows your gaze straight to the window of an antique shop tucked snug between two cafes.

And there it is. The locket.

It rests beneath a glass dome, perched on velvet as though it’s worth more than the shop itself. The silver surface gleams faintly under the soft, golden light, delicate and timeless, and engraved across the front is an infinity symbol—curved and flowing endlessly into itself.

Satoru tilts his head slightly, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity as he watches you stare at it—as if that locket holds the entire universe within it.

“See something you like?” he murmurs, looping his arms around your waist and pulling you gently into his chest.

He feels the way you relax into him almost immediately, your hands curling lightly around his forearms.

“Infinity…” you whisper.

He hums, burying his face into the curve of your neck, nuzzling there like he’s trying to steal the warmth of you.

“Hmm?”

You don’t answer right away, your gaze still locked on the locket. Satoru takes the opportunity to press a lazy kiss against the soft skin of your neck, his lips curving into a grin when he feels you shiver slightly beneath him.

“What’s got you so lost in there, huh?” he teases.

“Hmm? Oh…” You blink, your cheeks tinged faintly pink as you glance back at him. “I was just thinking about what you said. About infinity.”

He raises a brow now, a slow grin spreading across his face as he straightens just enough to nudge his chin toward the locket.

“Yeah? You been pondering the mysteries of the universe without me?”

You turn slightly in his arms, your gaze lifting to meet his, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you.

“Well,” you begin, smiling faintly, “I’ve been thinking… you’re… well, you’re kind of like infinity, aren’t you?”

Satoru blinks, his grin faltering for a split second.

“Me?”

“Yeah… you’re always moving, always bigger than life, like there’s no end to who you are. You don’t stop—don’t ever really slow down. You’re... limitless.”

For once, Satoru’s brain stalls. Completely. He’s torn between a smug She thinks about me like that? and the sudden ache in his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with.

He sees the way you’re looking at him—soft, honest, like you’re laying something fragile and important at his feet—and it hits him harder than anything he’s prepared for.

Satoru tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer as though that’ll somehow ground him.

“You really think that?” A softness creeps into his voice. “That I remind you of infinity?”

You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. Your gaze drops for a moment before lifting again, steady this time.

“Yeah… because no matter what... you’ll always protect me. You’ll always be here, won’t you? Like infinity. Always.”

Satoru’s breath catches. For once, he doesn’t have a clever comeback. He doesn’t have anything except this overwhelming, all-consuming feeling swelling in his chest.

He dips his head, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. It’s the only answer he has.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs quietly. “Always.”

For a moment, he lingers there, his forehead pressed to yours, your breath mingling in the cold. Then, with a small grin tugging at his lips, he pulls back slightly, arms still secure around you.

“C’mon,” he sighs affectionately. “There’s still fudge with my name on it.”

You let out a soft laugh, your hand slipping back into his as he tugs you gently forward. But as you fall into step beside him, Satoru’s gaze drifts back to the shop window, to the locket resting beneath the glass.

Infinity, huh?

The faintest smile plays on his lips as he squeezes your hand lightly. He finally knows what he’s getting you for Christmas.

ꨄ

For Satoru, Christmas morning felt… surreal.

The Gojo estate, usually silent and polished like a showroom, had transformed into something far more, filled with a warmth—Haru’s delighted squeals echoing down the halls, filling the empty spaces with pure, unfiltered joy.

“Mama! ‘Toru! Wake up! Hurry, hurry!”

Her voice carries like a one-person parade, punctuated by the rapid thump of her tiny feet sprinting towards the tree, and Satoru groans into his pillow—dragging a hand over his face as if that would erase the early hour.

The sun wasn’t even properly up yet, and here he was, reluctantly dragged from the cocoon of his bed by the infectious energy of a two-year-old.

He shuffled down the hall in his pajama pants and hoodie, stifling a yawn as he dragged a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

Rounding the corner, he caught sight of Haru—a blur of bedhead and reindeer pajamas, arms flailing as she skidded to a halt in front of the Christmas tree. Her tiny hands clapped together as her wide eyes took in the mountain of carefully wrapped presents beneath it, glittering under the soft glow of twinkling lights.

“Mama! ‘Toru! Look! Presents!!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes, so full of excitement that Satoru half-expects her to rocket straight into the air.

He leans lazily against the doorframe, watching her with an amused grin. This kid… she was like a wound-up toy, running purely on joy and Christmas spirit. It tugged at something in him—a place he didn’t even realize had been empty until now.

“How does she have this much energy so early in the morning?” he mutters, glancing over his shoulder just as you appeared behind him.

You looked impossibly cozy—wrapped in your pajamas, your hair tousled from sleep. In your hands were two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which you handed to him without a word.

“She’s almost three,” you say simply, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. “And it’s Christmas. Welcome to parenthood. This is her prime time.”

“Prime time for chaos,” he quips, taking a careful sip of his coffee.

He shoots Haru a mock-suspicious glance as she darts around the tree—tiny hands hovering over the presents like she’s trying to decide where to start.

“You sure Santa didn’t slip her a double espresso in her stocking?”

Your laugh is quiet and warm, the kind that made the corners of his mouth tug upward instinctively, and he couldn’t help but think how ridiculously domestic this all felt—Haru bouncing by the tree, you standing beside him with that soft, sleepy glow.

It was almost unsettling how much he liked it… how much he cherished it.

His gaze shifts back to Haru, who was now crouched in front of the tree, examining the tags on the presents like a tiny detective—a kind of joy so radiant it made something tighten in Satoru’s chest.

It hit him then—here he was, watching Haru’s eyes light up with the same wonder he never got to feel growing up. His Christmases had always been all flash and no magic. Gilded parties, perfectly wrapped gifts that lacked thought, and a cold sort of extravagance that filled rooms but never hearts.

But this?

This was different. Seeing Haru’s excitement now felt like reclaiming something he didn’t even know he’d lost.

“Mama! ‘Toru!” Haru’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts as she holds up a box triumphantly. “Look! Look! For me!”

“Man, Santa really outdid himself this year,” Satoru drawls, stretching an arms over his head as he plops onto the couch beside you.

He made a show of sipping his coffee like he hadn’t been the one painstakingly arranging the presents under the tree just hours earlier.

You’d handed him ribbons to tie, smirking as he fumbled with the tape, and rolled your eyes as he huffed about how ‘unnecessarily complicated’ wrapping paper was.

And then there’d been the cookies and hot chocolate Haru had left out for Santa, which he devoured with exaggerated flair. You’d caught him red-handed, crumbs still on his face, and he grinned sheepishly, muttering something about how Santa worked hard and deserved a snack.

It had been... nice. Warm. Like stepping into a life he always thought was meant for other people, not him.

But Haru?

She didn’t care about Satoru’s epiphanies. She was too busy shredding wrapping paper like her life depended on it.

The morning quickly descended into a delightful chaos—a whirlwind of torn ribbons, squeals of delight, and an ever-growing pile of toys. Haru didn’t just open her gifts; she paraded each one around the room like a prized trophy.

A dollhouse, a pink fluffy stuffed bear (that was for you, right?), and a set of art supplies. Every present came with an enthusiastic ‘Mama, look!’, making you laugh while Satoru grinned like an idiot.

And his attention… well, it kept drifting back to you.

The way you tucked your legs beneath yourself on the couch, leaning slightly into his shoulder as you sipped your coffee. The way your eyes softened whenever Haru ran to you, clutching another gift—her excitement bubbling over.

The way the light from the tree caught in your hair, making you look like you belonged in this moment… more than anything else ever had.

“Mama, look!” Haru gasps yet again, holding up a small box wrapped in gold paper. “Santa didn’t forget you!”

You blink, momentarily startled, as she thrusts the box into your hands before darting back to the tree—already rummaging for her next gift with boundless energy. Your gaze, however, shifts toward Satoru, narrowing with playful suspicion.

“Oh really?” you arch an eyebrow, grinning.

Satoru scratches the back of his head, feigning nonchalance even as a smug grin begins to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “That’s between you and Santa. Guy’s always been a softie for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the package, peeling back the carefully wrapped paper to reveal a small rosewood box.

The craftsmanship immediately catches your eye—with rich, dark wood, smooth to the touch. Two turtle doves are etched with breathtaking detail across the lid—wings entwined in a delicate dance of devotion. As you trace the design with your fingertips, the doves seem to almost flutter underneath—a stunning work of art.

And as you lift the lid, your breath hitches.

Nestled inside is the platinum heart-shaped locket, glinting under the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Encircling the heart is a delicate band of diamonds, each stone catching light like tiny frozen stars. And there, at the center of the locket’s face, is that infinity emblem you know so well—etched with graceful precision.

Your breath catches—your chest tightening as you carefully lift the locket from its velvet cradle. The weight of it is delicate yet grounding in your palm.

“Satoru…” you murmur in awe.

Beside you, he nudges your shoulder gently—his grin softening into something quieter, something more vulnerable.

“Open it.”

With careful fingers, you undo the clasp, and the locket falls open, revealing the secret it holds.

On one side was the photo he’d snapped of the two of you in the town square—you laughing, your cheeks pink from the cold, while he pressed a kiss to your cheek with that obnoxiously smug grin.

On the other side was another photo—one you hadn’t even known he’d taken—a candid shot of you and Haru in the kitchen, flour dusting your nose as you helped her decorate cookies.

Your smiles were radiant, unguarded, and completely at ease.

For a moment, you just stare, your lips parting slightly as you tried to form words. Satoru leans closer, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder.

“You said… infinity reminded you of me,” he says quietly. “So… I thought maybe this could remind you of us.”

Your eyes lift to meet his, shimmering with an emotion so raw and overwhelming it makes him hold his breath. Then, without a word, you reach up, cup his face with both hands, and kiss him.

It’s soft, deliberate, and unhurried—the kind of kiss that makes him feel like maybe the universe doesn’t have to be so vast and infinite. Not when it can be filled with moments like this.

Before he can fully bask in the moment, Haru’s delighted squeal cuts through the air like a firework.

“Mama! Look! A big one!”

Satoru turns to see her tiny hands tugging at a large, carefully wrapped box partially hidden behind the tree. She tries to drag it forward, but honestly the box is way bigger than her.

You laugh softly, already stepping up from your seat to guide her hands away.

“Oh… that one’s not for you, sweetheart. It’s for Satoru.”

Satoru blinks, caught off guard. For him?

He doesn’t even have time to process it before Haru’s face twists into the most dramatic pout he’s ever seen—complete with trembling lips and misty eyes. She crosses her arms like she’s about to stage a sit-in protest right then and there.

“What? No fair!”

Satoru chuckles, setting his coffee mug aside as he pushes himself up from the couch with an exaggerated groan.

“Alright, alright,” he ruffles Haru’s hair as he crouches beside her. “How about this? You help me open it, and I’ll share whatever’s inside. Deal?”

Haru’s pout vanishes like snow in the sun, replaced by a radiant grin as she nods enthusiastically.

“Okay!”

With Haru leading the charge, they attack the wrapping paper like a two-person wrecking crew. Satoru makes a big show of struggling with the ribbon, grunting and pretending to pull with all his strength. Haru giggles at his theatrics, and finally, the last shred of paper falls away.

As the box opens, Satoru stills.

Inside is a telescope—sleek and polished to perfection. His hand trails over the smooth surface, and suddenly he was eight years old again, lying on his back in the garden with a telescope propped on the grass, mapping constellations under a vast, endless sky.

But then, his eyes widen as his fingers brush across something etched on its side. Engraved with precision, is the constellation Lyra—the harp.

Satoru knows enough about stars to understand its meaning. Lyra represents love, devotion, and music. It’s the constellation of Orpheus and Eurydice—a love story as infinite as the stars themselves.

For a long moment, all he can do is stare, his thumb brushing lightly over the engraving as if to ground himself. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until your voice pulls him back.

“You recognize it?” you ask softly.

He glances up at you, the grin on his face softening into something quieter, something real.

“Mhmm... It’s Lyra.”

You step closer, the faintest hint of nerves in the way you tug at the hem of your pajama sleeve.

“I thought… I thought you’d like an upgrade…” you say shyly, “You love the stars, and I thought you deserved something that made you feel… closer to them.”

Satoru’s throat tightens, and he can’t speak right away, but before he even has the chance to, Haru tugs at his sleeve impatiently, breaking the moment.

“What is it? What is it?” she demands, eyes wide with curiosity.

Satoru lets out a breathless laugh, pulling her onto his lap as he turns the telescope slightly so she can see.

“This, my little star, is how we can see the sky up close. The stars, the moon, even planets if we’re lucky.”

Her eyes widen. “The stars? I wanna see the stars ‘toru!”

“Okay, princess. Tonight, I’ll show you the whole sky.”

“Yay!!” Haru gleams, bouncing on his lap.

Satoru chuckles, steadying her with one arm, but as Haru chatters away, his gaze drifts back to you.

You’re standing quietly a few steps away, watching the scene unfold with that soft, knowing smile that always makes his heart trip over itself. The glow of the Christmas tree casts a faint halo around you, and for a moment, Satoru wonders how he ever existed without this—without you.

Wordlessly, he tilts his head, beckoning you closer. When you step forward, his free arm slips around your waist, pulling you gently down to sit next to him.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then finally your lips—slow, unhurried, and laced with everything he can’t quite put into words.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

It’s not just for the telescope. It’s for this moment, for this morning, for you. Your fingers trail softly over his cheek, and he swears you’re glowing.

“Merry Christmas, Satoru…” you murmur quietly.

“Merry Christmas… sweetheart.”

There’s a warmth in your eyes that feels like home, and for the first time in his life, he understands what it means to be content.

This—this moment, this family, this love—it’s everything. It’s infinite.

And as the three of you sit there, bathed in the glow of the Christmas tree, Satoru realizes something he’s never dared to believe.

He finally belongs.

a/n. i got in my feels writing this. as someone who struggles around the holidays, this was real cathartic to write. hope you guys have an incredible holiday season with the ones you love—thanks for reading, sending hugs! ♡

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @acowboykisser @mikyapixie @rosso-seta

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christiancj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @illianasa @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

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starmapz · 2 days ago

Text

what you know - ch6: intoxicated || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.7k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

Brushing the snow from his jacket, Sukuna flips his hood down and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. He’d gotten up early enough to work out before taking the kids to school, but in usual fashion, his overly-excitable little brother had been such a handful that Sukuna didn’t get a chance to finish getting ready. He opted for a shower and just threw on the first set of clothes he could find.

He blows a breath out through his nose, scanning the lunch hall. He hasn’t exactly worked out what the hell he’s planning on saying to you after last night, but a promise is a promise and he swore to join you for lunch. He’s failed you enough times.

He trudges up to your usual table with his hands in his pockets, his usual aloof expression plastered across his features, though it twists to confusion as he realizes you aren’t there.

Haibara’s the first to notice him as he pauses a small distance behind your blonde friend. Kento, Sukuna thinks?

“Hey, Sukuna!”

He grunts in reply, before inquiring about your whereabouts.

Shoko and Kento exchange a glance that Sukuna recognizes as cautionary. “She’s sick,” Shoko’s eyes twitch as she narrows her gaze on him suspiciously. “She is sick, right Sukuna?”

Although he doesn’t mind Shoko, he doesn’t like what she’s insinuating, even if she is right. Clenching his fists in his coat pockets, he scowls at her with a tense jaw. “How the hell should I know?”

Shoko’s gaze lingers a moment longer before she sighs, giving in. “She said she was studying at home today. She doesn’t want anyone getting sick before finals,” Shoko explains, swinging her fork around as she speaks.

“That’s nice of her,” Sukuna comments, shooting a pointed glance at Kento who won’t stop glaring at him, which only serves to piss him off further.

With a final nod of acknowledgement intended primarily for Shoko and Haibara, Sukuna turns on his heel and heads back out into the snow. He loathes the strange sensation lingering in the back of his mind that he’s retreating from Shoko and Kento’s scrutiny like a dog with its tail between its legs, but what other option does he have? He’s not about to fight with them. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he heads towards the library with the intention of sending you an email.

Once isolated in the cold again, he lets out a sigh as his breath billows into the freezing winter air. Contritefully, he watches as snowflakes fall slowly and dissolve on the sleeve of his coat.

Fuck.

Shoko had every right to drag him through the mud the way she had, he knows she’s right. You’re not sick. He would have believed it if you were still watching over his sick little brother, but that hasn’t been the case for a while. You’re avoiding him. Without classes, you chose to stay home and avoid the possibility of running into Sukuna.

Lightly kicking a rock as he steps through the snow, the burly man pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He should be studying in the small amount of spare time he has. He should take extra shifts. He should go Christmas shopping for his brothers. He should meal prep. He should be doing anything other than skulking around campus thinking about the things going wrong in his life.

The worst part? Aside from one very large and glaring issue, you’re the source of all of his problems. Well, no, that’s not fair to you. You just happen to be at the center of all of them, but if he’s honest with himself, he knows there’s more to it than that.

You may be the source of all of his problems, but Sukuna is the cause of each and every one of them.

Taking a step towards the rock he kicked earlier, he sends it flying into the brick of the library with a satisfying thunk before ducking into the building.

Settling quietly in the corner of the library, Sukuna pulls out his laptop and opens his email, doing his best not to think too hard about what he’s typing.

[email protected] - Friday, 12:11 PM heard youre sick. you okay?

After hitting send, he leans over the table, running his hands over his face to mentally reset himself before diving into his studies.

To Sukuna’s relief, you do reply to his email just over an hour into his studies. He knows he fucked up, but at least you’re still acknowledging him this time.

[email protected] - Friday, 1:34 PM Yeah, sorry. I forgot to tell you.

He frowns at the sight of your email. It’s an awfully dry response in comparison to your usual bright demeanor. His fingers rest idly over his keyboard as he contemplates his reply.

[email protected] - Friday, 1:38 PM right. need anything

[email protected] - Friday, 1:38 PM ?

[email protected] - Friday, 1:59 PM I’m not going to ask you for soup, Sukuna.

Okay, so you’re at least a little bit mad at him. He slumps back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

He could bring you soup.

He could. He remembers you liking the bowl from the cafe he took you to.

He clenches his hand into a fist while biting down hard enough on his lip to draw blood. What the fuck is he thinking? Finals are next week, he’s hardly studied, he has to pick up his brothers in an hour and he has work all weekend.

He doesn’t have time to chase after his frayed connection to you.

His eyes trail across the speckled library ceiling. There’s a water stain just to the left of where he sits. He remembers thinking those sorts of marks were coffee when he was a kid. In retrospect, that makes no sense.

Hell, it makes about as much sense as Sukuna’s obsession with you as of late. He doesn’t have the time, nor the mental capacity to be sitting here stewing over an email that he could be reading too much into.

Leaning forward over the table with a huff, his fingers run across the keys on his laptop as he formulates a reply that’s painfully him.

[email protected] - Friday, 2:09 PM feel better

It doesn’t shock him that you don’t reply this time.

–

For the better part of the week, a feeling of unease seems to follow Sukuna like a fly he can’t seem to swat away. Even through finals, he finds himself wanting nothing more than to slam his head against his desk in hopes that thoughts of his fuck up might finally leave.

Yet the taste of you always remains on his tongue.

Bittersweet, like the sweetest memory tainted with the reminder that it never should have happened.

It was a mistake.

Throwing his hood up over his head, he leaves the school with one thing in mind.

Your fratboy friend is throwing his end of finals party tonight and Sukuna has every intention to drink to forget. To forget about the lawsuit, to forget about the ways he’s failed his little brothers, and most importantly: to forget about you.

He knows the feeling won’t last forever, but shit, it’ll be worth the way that he pleaded with Choso’s friend’s mother to take Yuji for the night too for a sleepover.

He just needs to escape for the night. He can worry about mentally resetting himself tomorrow morning when he wakes up with a killer hangover on some disgusting couch in Gojo’s ridiculous and over-decorated house.

Until then, he’ll continue on with his day as usual, picking up his brothers from school and cooking something to eat.

“Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna-”

“What?”

“- Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna Kuna-”

“Brat! What do you want?” He shoots a look of irritation at his little brother as the youngest Itadori bounds up to him with some sort of craft in his hand.

Sukuna sets his spatula down, leaning down to get a better view of the beaded creation in Yuji’s hand. There’s a yellow lizard dappled in black spots proudly seated atop his outstretched hand as though he’s a mad scientist showing off his greatest creation.

“It’s a lizard.”

“It’s a gecko,” the little boy proudly corrects him.

Sukuna’s nose wrinkles in exasperation. “Same thing.”

“No. They’re not.” This, of course, launches into a five minute explanation of the difference between lizards and geckos, which Sukuna hums along to as he rises back to his full height to continue cooking dinner.

“- so geckos are lizards but they’re not the same as lizards,” Yuji finishes his explanation, tugging at his older brother’s hoodie to hold out his gecko again. “This one’s a leopard gecko.”

“Didn’t know you liked lizards so much, Yu.” Sukuna’s tone is mild, a calm expression plastered on his face. Yuji’s interests change by the day, the only constant seeming to be pokemon and sports, though he’s gone from basketball to tennis to hockey over the course of the last year. Not that Sukuna can afford his interest in hockey, and cautiously pushed him back towards basketball.

Turns out when you’re five, all you need is for your cool older brother to install a basketball net on the back of your door and lift you up to do a slam dunk to be enthralled with the sport again. Sukuna thanks god for that.

“I love lizards!” He beams.

Sukuna hums, a rare smile pulling at his lips. “It’s a nice bead gecko.”

“Leopard gecko. Thanks Kuna! Guess who showed us how to make them?”

The corner of his lip twitches as he stares down at the spotted bead lizard. There’s no shock when Yuji says your name. The shock comes from the dreadful feeling that sits like a stone in the base of his stomach at just the sound of your name.

Fuck, he needs a drink.

“Can I show her?”

“No, Yu.”

“Please?”

“No-”

“Please? Pleeeeeeeaaaaaase?”

This has been a repeating situation practically all week. Yuji seemed to want to show every little thing to you and won’t relent until Sukuna sends an email. He would demand to know what you replied each and every time, and while there’s a part of Sukuna that’s grateful it gave him an excuse to reach out and hold onto your tense relationship, it equally caused him to relive his guilty conscience.

Sukuna sighs, giving in to the relentless pleading of his youngest brother.

“Fine. Let me finish dinner.”

With a cheer, Yuji runs off excitedly to inform Choso to prepare his best lizard to send a photo.

Sukuna’s shoulders rise and fall heavily as he lets out a breath. He stares down at the pan in front of him, the sizzling of gnocchi and tomato sauce offering little distraction from his wandering thoughts.

It seemed no matter what he did, you were so ingrained in his life that he couldn’t escape you.

To say that’s what he wanted in the first place would be a lie. No, he never wanted to escape. He still doesn’t. He just wants things to go back to the way they were before he let his dick do all the thinking and kissed you.

If he wanted to escape, he wouldn’t have searched for you in the crowds during finals. He wouldn’t have frustratedly tossed his textbook on his desk with a thump that made Choso jump and come check on him. Your words echoed in his mind as he feigned a smirk and sent the boy away.

He’s worried about you.

Choso’s too smart for his age. He should be playing games with his friends, begging to see a PG-13 rated movie, anything but worrying about his own guardian.

The pop of tomato sauce brings him back to the present, and he hisses at the feeling of the boiling liquid hitting his forearm. He sets the spatula aside, shutting off the stove and wiping the sauce off with his thumb, popping it into his mouth with a pop!

He needs to get his shit together.

He calls the kids into the dining area for dinner, and before long he’s sitting in front of his laptop, the screen pointed at his brothers, waiting for Choso and Yuji to position themselves in front of the camera with big smiles. In Yuji’s hand is the leopard gecko that he figures you must have told him about, proudly displayed with a toothy smile. Choso’s lizard is a dark purple with a white stripe, his smile more reserved but his eyes shine just as bright.

Sukuna snaps the photo, pulling his laptop back towards him. Yuji clambers onto Sukuna’s lap, met with a grunt and a mildly irritated “enough, Yu.” Choso peers at the laptop screen quietly, watching as Sukuna opens his email chain with you. The last few emails between you both are almost the same as this one, typing out that the kids wanted to show you their lizards.

Your replies to his brothers’ antics have been more positive than your replies to him. He wonders if you knew they were constantly asking about your responses or if the rift between you was healing, but he assumes the former. You’re good with his brothers. They adore you, and you seem to feel the same towards them.

“Tell her my new favorite lizard is um-” Yuji pauses to think, pulling Sukuna back to the present. It seems he’s lost in thought a lot lately. “A frilled lizard!”

“Mm.” He glances at Choso, urging the young boy to choose one as well.

“I like… iguanas.”

Sukuna nods, typing out the boys’ message to you before hitting send. “There. Now go get ready for your sleepover.”

He lets out a sigh as his brothers restlessly go bursting out the door back to their rooms to pack a bag, ensuring they bring just about every unnecessary toy and game and no toothbrush or toothpaste to be found. Exhausted from his finals, he drags himself along after them, packing jackets, gloves, extra socks and toiletries in their stead with a lazy scolding to be more careful.

He’s beyond burnt out and while he usually resents the mother of Choso’s friend for her obviously pitious comments towards Sukuna’s situation, for once he’s glad for her sympathy. If it means he gets just one full night to himself where he can fuck off and forget about all his problems, then he’ll take it. He’ll run with it and he won’t look back.

Once he’s loaded their backpacks into the lady’s car and provided his neighbor’s number in case of emergencies, he finds himself slumping back in his bed in relief. Despite his solace, the silence carries with it an eerie sense of foreboding. He doesn’t think he’s been alone in the comfort of his own home in almost three years now, and it should be a freeing feeling, yet he’s filled with trepidation in place of relaxation.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, dragging his hands down his face. He’s never been early to a party before but fuck it, he needs to dull the sharp edges of worry and doubt with alcohol. Grabbing his keys, he opens his locked bedside table drawer, violently shoving aside ripped legal papers to grab a few blunts and a shooter of Jack Daniels. His hand hovers over a small bottle of Everclear, but he opts to keep it for a later date, certain he’ll need the hard liquor another time.

Shutting and locking the drawer, he languidly begins getting ready, moving at a sluggish pace as he runs gel through his hair in order to get it spiked just how he prefers. He grabs a Danzig shirt, the sleeves chopped at the sides with arm holes deep enough that anyone could get a peek at his abs and chest. Topping it off with a black denim long sleeve and a pair of gray joggers, he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and throws on some cologne.

He pauses before heading out the door, his laptop seeming to loom over him like a ghost, begging him to check his email.

[email protected] - Friday, 7:51 PM Yuji!! Choso!! Those both look amazing!! You’re both so creative, it looks like it runs in the family :) Iguanas and frilled lizards are great choices. Maybe if you can steal your big brother’s laptop for a bit, you can find a bead frog tutorial. My favorite is the desert rain frog! They kind of remind me of your brother. ;)

It reminds you of him? A frog?

A quick google search has him scowling at his screen, an equally grumpy looking frog staring back at him.

Stupid. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t have looked.

Shutting the search window, his eyes train once more on your message to his brothers. Despite the fact that he wrote the email, you still seem to be upset with him, choosing to answer as though his brothers wrote it. At least you still teased him about looking like a frog.

Even if it’s stupid. It’s a stupid frog.

Slamming his laptop shut, he tosses his coat on, pockets his broken lighter in the side that isn’t singed, and makes his way out the door towards campus and Gojo’s frat house.

The weather has warmed up significantly over the past week to the point where he can’t see his breath anymore, although the ground is still coated in a thick layer of snow. Pulling out a blunt from his pocket between two deft fingers, he sets it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling deeply.

Among the many poor decisions Sukuna has made throughout his life, he didn’t mind adding tonight to his list if it meant drinking to forget and smoking to feel calm.

Although he’s earlier than most of the crowd, the music is already pumping loudly through speakers, bass booming through the ground beneath his feet as he makes his way up the porch stairs. He doesn’t recognize the frat boy letting people in, but one disinterested glare from Sukuna is all it takes for him to step aside. After all, who wouldn’t recognize Sukuna?

Swapping his lighter to his joggers’ pocket, he tosses his jacket over a coat rack and heads further into the house in search of something hard to get him buzzed as soon as possible. He blows smoke over the heads of most of the crowd, one of the perks of being nearly seven feet tall, as he heads towards the back of the house where he knows he’ll find the kitchen.

The further he moves from the makeshift dance floor in the front living area, the more reasonable the music volume becomes. College students chatter amongst each other, speaking loudly over the pumping bass, when a familiar voice grabs his attention.

“You made it!”

“Hey, buddy.”

“Well, well, look who decided to show his face.”

Sharp crimson irises flit between Uraume and Atsuya, who greet him casually, landing lastly on none other than Toji Zenin. Always at odds with Sukuna with a shit-eating grin as he pushes the pink-haired man’s buttons just a little bit too far.

“Uraume. Atsuya. Toji.”

It’s a miracle he still considers Toji a friend. Well, maybe an acquaintance. He certainly won’t bring Toji into the fray that is his life any time soon.

And Atsuya, well… The Kusakabe family is known for wealth, so Sukuna likes to keep him at arms’ length as well. Still, he enjoys his company. Uraume is easily his closest friend and he won’t deny that seeing them seems to ease his tension, even if only a little bit.

“So, finally decided we’re worth your time again? Or did you mess shit up with your girl?” Toji barks out a laugh, as though anything he’s saying is humorous.

“She ain’t my girl,” Sukuna growls, making a point of blowing smoke towards him.

“Dunno, you two seemed pretty close at lunch last week.” The scar on the corner of his lip stretches as he grins, taking a sip of whatever concoction is in his solo cup.

“Fuck off, Zenin,” Sukuna grumbles with a roll of his eyes. Toji should consider himself lucky he isn’t about to be at the center of Sukuna’s anger, saved only by the cannabis circling Sukuna’s system and dulling his thoughts, his anger, his mind. With a huff, Sukuna heads towards the kitchen to grab a drink.

“I see he still enjoys getting on your nerves,” Uraume observes, falling into step with him.

“Mm. Dunno how ya tolerate that asshole so much,” he comments, coming to a stop in the kitchen where he stubs out his blunt in an ashtray and opens the first bottle of rum he can find, pouring himself a rum and coke.

That is, if you can consider something that’s sixty percent rum a ‘rum and coke’.

“Me too, please,” Uraume requests. Sukuna hums, pouring a much more reasonable split of alcohol for them. “You can complain as much as you would like about Toji, but I know you two used to be close. Even if he can be a pain, I can tell you aren’t as bothered as you wish for him to believe.”

It’s true. Back in high school, the two were inseparable. Toji didn’t even mind when Sukuna’s father asked the two to take young Choso along to a basketball court or movie, so long as it was appropriate. Their issues came when Sukuna’s father passed away in their first year of college and he refused to speak with his best friend about it, choosing instead to take on mountains of stress on his own. As usual, Sukuna was the cause of his own problems.

Moving out of the dorms and finding a place for his two kid brothers to stay with him, that was a whole other challenge. Learning to change diapers, figuring out a schedule that worked both for the kids’ school and his education, that was what nearly dragged Sukuna to an early grave when he got horribly sick.

That’s where Uraume stepped in, helping to alleviate some of his classwork by taking on additional project work for him. They always expected something in return, but that’s just the way Sukuna preferred to make deals. They helped him get into the swing of taking care of two young kids.

Somewhere along that path, he came to the realization that they’d also had a big piece in both his and Choso’s recovery from grief. Sukuna had grown angry and Choso hardly spoke a word. Although still irritable, Sukuna is generally more reasonable nowadays and although still quiet, Choso is more talkative than he has been in a long time.

In particular with you. He knows Choso adores you, although he’s not as loud as Yuji is about it. Yuji may as well scream it from the tops of buildings.

Taking an unreasonably large sip of his drink, he wills away thoughts of you, replacing what he gulped down with more rum.

Uraume’s brow raises. “Difficult day?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he grumbles, alcohol and cannabis running through his veins and sending his mind into a haze so that he just might be able to handle Toji. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m relieved finals are over,” Uraume takes a sip of their drink with a small smile. “And it’s good to see you around again.”

“I saw you two days ago,” Sukuna points out, arching a brow.

They hum. “Yes, but Toji has a point. You’ve been spending more time with your project partner than us, which is unusual for you.”

He sighs. “Shit, guess I have.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Sukuna. I know you’re busy, and I can see she means a lot to you, but-”

“She’s just a project partner.”

Uraume purses their lips as they side-eye him. “... Right. Remind me, when did your project end?”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches, shooting them a sharp look.

“As I was saying, I can see that she means a lot to you, so I don’t mind. I do wish you would get a new phone as I do miss texting, but our friendship won’t change.” They shoot him a reassuring smile, one that Sukuna lowers his defenses at the sight of.

“However Toji and Atsuya aren’t aware of your situation, which makes it appear as though you’re spending all of your time with her.” Uraume takes a sip of their drink, carding a hand through their snowy locks.

“Mm.” Sukuna runs his tongue over his lower lip as they approach the couch that Toji’s splayed himself over, manspreading with a bottle of beer held in one fist. He recognizes Toji’s cousin Naoya Zenin on the other end of the couch, surprised the two can even stand to be within five feet of one another. Toji may be an asshole, but somewhere buried beneath all that muscle is a fairly genuine person. Naoya, on the other hand, is the kind of person Sukuna wouldn’t mind socking in the face once or twice.

“So,” Toji starts, that infuriating grin returning. “Tell us ‘bout your girl.”

Sukuna chooses to stand between Atsuya and Uraume, his two friends who are decidedly less irritating. It’s a wonder him and Toji were ever close to begin with, though Sukuna supposes he was a lot different back when they hung out more.

The world had changed Sukuna, hardened him into a shell of what he once was.

“I told you, Zenin,” Sukuna hisses, “she’s not my girl.”

Toji scoffs, a wide grin across his face. “Yeah right. Ya got fuckin’ heart-eyes for her. Holdin’ her hand in the lunch hall n’ shit.”

Sukuna downs more of his rum, relishing in the burn as it slides down his throat. “We were studying, shithead. I owe her a favor, that’s all.”

“Yeah? You gonna bring her home n’ cuddle all cute-like?” The raven-headed man teases.

Atsuya sighs at Sukuna’s side, chewing idly on a toothpick. “Can you two shut up?” He grumbles, knuckles white as he grips his beer bottle tighter at the grating sound of their argument. “Giving me a damn headache.”

“C’mon Atsuya, I know ya saw it too,” Toji eggs both men on.

“Toji, enough,” Uraume scolds.

“Nah, I know Atsuya saw it.”

A muscle ticks in Sukuna’s jaw, his teeth grinding as he does what he can to push his frustrations aside. Turns out a full solo cup and blunt aren’t enough to dull Sukuna’s senses to the point where he can tolerate this conversation.

He’s supposed to be forgetting, yet here Toji is pushing the thought of you back in his face, infuriating him.

He downs the rest of his rum in two gulps, staring at the empty cup with a scowl, completely dazed as he tunes out the sound of his friends.

Heart-eyes. As-fucking-if. He scoffs to himself at the thought, staring back over the heads of the crowd towards the kitchen. He needs something harder after all. He should have brought the Everclear.

His relationship with you is similar to that of him and Uraume, he’s sure of it. It doesn’t go beyond that.

So why is he drinking to forget you?

Finally pulled from his thoughts, he turns on his heel to get something harder when he realizes where the conversation has turned in his absence.

Naoya questioningly tilts his head at Toji, a sleazy grin on his face as your name leaves his lips. Sukuna’s lip instinctively curls in disgust at the sound of your name leaving his lips. That’s not where it belongs, and Sukuna doesn’t dare imagine a world where this asshole so much as looks at you, because he thinks it just might give him an aneurysm.

Hell, he thinks an aneurysm would be kinder than the thought of Naoya Zenin ever looking your way.

“She’s fuckin’ hot, she’d look sexy as hell under-” Naoya’s gaze seems to search the crowd for you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Toji interrupts with a distasteful snarl, but it’s Sukuna’s words that seem to cut the crowd, red hot rage boiling in his chest.

“Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence,” Sukuna barks, his tone low as he takes a step towards the vile excuse for a human being.

Naoya hardly seems phased by Sukuna’s outburst, although the throng of the crowd has dimmed in the face of Sukuna’s fury. “Aw, is she claimed, Sukuna? Is she your little playth-”

Sukuna barrels forward, not offering Naoya the time of day to speak.

Naoya’s eyes widen as Sukuna’s fist raises, barely managing to cower out of the way in time as Sukuna’s knuckles narrowly miss the blonde’s face and collide with the back of the couch. His eyes swirl with a ferocity that his friends haven’t seen before as they all leap towards him. Atsuya and Toji grab either of his arms and with a harsh pull from Toji, Sukuna stumbles backwards. They’re lucky he’s tipsy and not as stable as usual.

“Woah buddy, I’m all for teaching him a lesson, but let’s not start shit right now.” Atsuya speaks from a place of reason, but Sukuna knows he simply doesn’t want their group to get thrown out by Gojo.

… Again.

At least last time, it was Toji who started shit with Naoya.

Sukuna’s teeth are gritted as his friends hold him back. Naoya’s face has twisted from barely disguised fear into a satisfied smirk. “Did I touch a nerve, big guy?”

Sukuna lunges forward, stumbling back into the wall behind him as Toji pulls him back harshly. He grunts as his back collides with the wall, venom dripping from each syllable as he speaks in a dangerous tone. “If I hear you talkin’ about anyone like that again, I won’t hesitate to throw you through the nearest fucking wall.” Sukuna stares down at his knuckles that collided with the wooden back of the couch. They’re not bleeding, but they’ll bruise.

Naoya opens his mouth to retort, but his words die in his throat when Sukuna pushes off the wall, standing at his full height. Naoya’s tall, but Sukuna makes everyone look short. His usual smug expression falls as he chooses the cowardly option and slips away with an irritated grumble. The crowd that had gathered to watch the spat slowly begins to return to their conversations again, not daring to shoot a glance at the monstrous man spitting threats at the back of the room.

Sukuna huffs, flexing his hand as he moves past his friends to head back towards the kitchen, shoving his way through the crowd. He’s tipsy, but fuck, it’s not enough.

His brothers, his friends, even Naoya, why does everything constantly lead back to you? It’s like you’re some sort of succubus with your claws buried deep within the recesses of his mind that he can’t escape. Yet even as he spins the cap off of a bottle of Jack, he realizes it's his resentment of the way you’re so deeply ingrained in his life that’s causing him to think such a thing.

You’re not a succubus, you’re more like a fairy. Soft, sweet, and kind.

Sukuna pauses his motions, staring down at the bottle. His fingers drum lightly on the stem of the glass as something akin to distress stirs deep within him. He grips the bottle with white knuckles, his throat tight. Before he has time to consider what it is that you mean to him, Toji comes jogging over.

“Hey, everythin’ alright, man?”

The look on his face reminds Sukuna of a time long past. Of late nights at barely-lit skateparks as Sukuna learned the ropes of graffiti. Of long afternoons chatting as they passed a basketball back and forth in the late afternoon sun. It wasn’t so long ago but it feels like a lifetime after the battering Sukuna’s last few years have caused him.

“Why the hell is he even invited?” The pink-haired brute gruffs rather than offering a reply to Toji.

No, he’s not okay.

“Everyone’s invited, Ryo.”

Sukuna shoots him a glare. Everyone’s gotta have a nickname for him, don’t they? He sighs heavily, letting out a long breath before downing several gulps of Jack straight from the bottle. Just once, he wishes he was a lightweight.

He just wants his mind to go blank. He wants the racing thoughts to stop.

“Woah, let’s pace ourselves, yeah?” Toji reaches out to grab the bottle with a grimace, eyeing his long-time friend as he sets the Jack down and pours them both much more reasonable looking ratios of rum to coke. “Alright, so I guess you’re not okay. That’s fine,” he mumbles as he passes Sukuna a cup. “Let’s jus’ go have some drinks, forget about my cousin, yeah?”

With a barely veiled huff, Sukuna pushes off the counter as he follows after Toji.

Sitting alongside Toji and Uraume, a haze begins to settle over his mind that finally leaves him more comfortable. His anger dissipates and he eases more casually into conversation with his friends, something he’s needed more than ever before.

Finally, even if only for a night, he can forget.

–

“Shoko, this goes so low,” you whisper as though saying it any louder might proclaim it to the entire world.

“Yeah, that’s the point,” she retorts, grinning at you in the mirror.

“But it’s winter,” you whine, staring in the mirror at the black dress that, admittedly, does hug your curves just right, but god you feel exposed. It’s also not your usual style, and you know exactly what Shoko’s doing and why.

Ever since you mentioned being sick, she’s been on your ass about what Sukuna did, regardless of how adamant you are that he did nothing.

It’s a lie and you haven’t fooled a soul.

Sukuna did hurt you.

Again.

This time, though, there’s a certain trepidation that sits alongside the pang of hurt. Like you’re not quite sure that you’re allowed to feel hurt, so you hide it behind a smile and a lie that Sukuna did nothing wrong.

No amount of stewing over what happened in Sukuna’s bedroom has given you any answers. You’re stuck somewhere in between feeling guilty for ever expecting anything romantic from him and feeling hurt that his best attempt to reach out was a sad ‘feel better’.

Hours of wondering if all you are to him is another warm body in his bed, even though the rational part of you knows it doesn’t make sense when no one knows his reality except you. Hours of wondering if he feels anything towards you at all or if he simply doesn’t care.

Yet your mind clung to one thing, one thin string that seemed to tie to an impossible ideal. Still, you couldn’t push the thought away.

If you really mean nothing to Sukuna, why is he acting weird? Why won’t he reach out properly, hiding behind his brothers? Why hasn’t he completely pushed you away?

If you were nothing more than a babysitter, he wouldn’t bother reaching out, right?

But if you were nothing more than a warm body to him, why hasn’t he pushed you away?

Shoko scoffs, the sound grounding you to the present. “Girl, you know Gojo will let us use his closet for our jackets. That’s your worst excuse yet.” She rolls her eyes, tossing your winter coat at you. “No more complaining, we’re going.”

You cast one more glance at the frilly black dress that barely reaches your knees and follow after Shoko.

The air is warmer than you expect, making your argument even less valid the moment you’re outside. You don’t bother to refute Shoko’s triumphant teasing, even as she mentions all the people you’ll surely attract in that dress.

Your stomach stirs uneasily at the thought.

As the staple at Gojo’s parties that you two are, the frat boy at the entrance shoots you both a kind grin as he lets you through. Why they bother with a bouncer at a party everyone on campus received an invite for is beyond you, but you return the smile regardless.

The thrum of music and thick scent of liquor, weed, and perspiration suffocates your senses as you enter the house. It’s familiar, and you know exactly where Gojo and Geto will be tucked away. Nanami and Haibara headed home practically the moment finals ended.

Making your way past the kitchen and grabbing a cooler, you slip past a game of beer pong and peer out the patio to the backyard. Sure enough, the snow’s been cleared and a massive fire pit is raging in the corner. Geto and Gojo are sitting around the fire alongside a few other frat members you recognize and some women very obviously vying for a place on one of their arms.

“My two favorite ladies!” Satoru calls out as you carefully make your way over the packed snow, trying desperately not to slip in your heels. You wrap your arms around yourself, thankful for the raging fire as you and Shoko take your seats between Satoru and Suguru.

“Why do you wanna sit outside?” You mumble, holding your hands out to the fire.

Suguru chuckles beside you. “I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn’t have it.”

“It’s warm tonight!” The snowy-haired man insists with an overdramatic pout.

“Just because it’s not freezing doesn’t make it warm, dumbass,” Shoko rolls her eyes, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She offers them to the group, though only Suguru takes one. She leans over you to light it for him, smoke billowing in the air around you.

With a drink in your hand and your friends at your side, conversation comes easily and you all keep close to the fire, stoking it often to keep a steady flame. Eventually, the mix of the flame and the alcohol warms you up and with toasty cheeks, you’re staring at the fire with a steady buzz.

“How do you think your finals went?” Suguru inquires, leaning back in his camping chair.

“Killed it,” you reply confidently, eyes glazed with the thrill of vodka. “I even think I nailed history,” you proudly tell him, straightening your posture with a gleam in your eyes.

“Mmm, would a particular history major have to do with that?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his smooth voice. Your proud stance falters, your cheeks heating up further as you can only offer him a shy smile, too inebriated to defend yourself as your stomach jumps at the mere thought of him. Suguru chuckles. “I see. I’m just teasing, I won’t push like Shoko does.”

“Hey! I’m a great friend,” she narrows her eyes in a playful scowl, though Suguru just grins.

After the busy last month of the semester, not to mention finals, you’re relieved to share warm moments like these with your friends, reveling in the jokes and laughter filling the air around you.

Being able to indulge in partying is a relief too. Although Satoru does it every second or third day, you can’t partake in the same luxuries and still expect to pass. Life isn’t quite as kind to you as it seems to be for the blue-eyed campus royalty. Between your studies and looking after Choso and Yuji, you’ve had your time well-occupied for the past month.

That’s not even beginning to mention the resumes you’ve been editing for some quick cash, on top of your own.

Not that it’ll be enough extra cash to get you home for Christmas. You know your parents tried, but they’re already doing their best to pay for your apartment and day-to-day expenses. At the end of the day, you can’t sacrifice any of your savings for a trip home, as much as you would like to.

You just have to hold onto the fact that you’ll see them once you start working. Most of your friends will go home for Christmas, but that’s okay. Nanami even offered to pay your way home and have you join him and Haibara, but that just didn’t seem fair, as much as you wanted to take him up on his offer.

You’ll enjoy your time video chatting and maybe take some time to visit Satoru and Suguru’s families, who’ve kindly invited you along.

“Deep in thought?”

“Hm?”

Suguru smiles, amused. “Distracted, are we?”

Your cheeks heat up, embarrassed. “Sorry. What were you saying?” You offer him a kind smile.

“I was offering another drink, would you like me to grab you something?” He taps your empty can.

“Oh! Actually, I’ll come with you I think.”

Suguru hums, leading the way back towards Satoru’s kitchen with a much wider gait than your own. “What are you having?”

“Just whatever cooler is fine,” you shrug as he leans down into the fridge. He pulls out a couple of coolers to give you options, returning to the fridge with the can you choose not to take.

Your eyes scan the crowd from the kitchen with a mirthful, albeit dazed expression that falters when you come face-to-face with the one person who’s been a constant in your thoughts for the past week.

He’s hard to miss, towering over the crowd with a head of pink hair and sharp tattoos decorating his features. Your heart pounds in your chest at the mere sight of him. Clearly a week away from him has done your heart no favors.

Sukuna looks good. You’re so accustomed to seeing him exhausted in deep blue coveralls or a big hoodie with wet, disheveled hair and a frown that seeing him with a relaxed smirk, his hair pushed back out of his face and a chain sat around his neck, he looks handsome.

You bite your lip, tearing your gaze away from him to turn back to Suguru. A knowing smirk has found its way onto Suguru’s face and he chuckles. “Go talk to him.”

Of course, he doesn’t know about the strange fissure sitting soundly between you and Sukuna, but you appreciate his encouragement nonetheless. Even if his tone is teasing, he does have a much more genuine way of handling things than Satoru would have.

For a moment, you do consider Suguru’s encouragement, turning back to Sukuna in the corner of the house, but your heart drops as the crowd shifts.

Standing in front of Sukuna is a tall woman with long, blonde hair. You recognize her from the Volleyball team, she’s gorgeous and Sukuna’s leaning down, his lips close to her ear as he blatantly flirts with her. His eyes are lidded and tinged in red, likely both drunk and high, and he chuckles along to something the blonde says.

Blinking a couple of times, you feel your heart sinking, green with envy. You appreciate Suguru’s encouragement, but maybe you should resign yourself to a world where your feelings remain unrequited and you’re just friends with Sukuna. That is, if he even still wants to be around you. He’s so difficult and hard to read and that’s not to mention the fact he hasn’t even attempted to talk about the heated kiss-

Sukuna’s eyes flicker upwards, meeting yours and stopping. His lidded expression falters, lips pursed. His brow furrows as the woman tugs on his shirt to get his attention and pull him closer, his gaze flickering between her and you.

You tear your gaze from him, turning back to Suguru. With a light touch to his bicep to get his attention as he pours himself something, you force a smile. “I think I’m gonna go find a quiet corner to get some air,” you tell him, slinking away before he can protest. With one final glance back at Sukuna, who’s returned his attention to the blonde, you slip into the crowd.

Pushing through sweaty bodies, the bass and crowd seems to box you in. Your heart is racing too fast, your mind too buzzed, your world too hazy to be trying to handle this many people.

Finding the stairs brings with it a sense of relief, no longer suffocated by the loud music and overwhelming smell of liquor. On the top floor, several of the rooms are shut, telltale signs of couples finding makeshift privacy and you don’t dare peek into any of them. You head straight for Satoru’s room, knowing well that it’ll be locked, and knowing equally well that you have the digital code to get in.

2-3-7-8.

B-E-S-T.

Cocky as ever.

Slipping inside, you shut the door behind you and take a breath as the ringing in your ears gradually begins to mute. Taking a seat on the edge of Gojo’s bed, you let out a long breath. You’ve spent hours on end in this exact spot, watching Satoru and Suguru compete in Super Smash Bros long after you and Shoko had been knocked out.

It doesn’t usually feel so lonely.

Pulling out your phone from within your bra, the only place you could store it, you find yourself doom-scrolling whatever social media has new content. It’s a poor effort to return to the happy state you’d found yourself in only a few minutes ago, and unsurprisingly it doesn’t return.

You’re not sure how long you sit in that spot, but with nothing left to scroll, you get to your feet and pad slowly towards the window, staring out towards the balcony that overlooks the backyard. Flipping the lock, you step out into the chill air, but it hardly seems to touch you, protected by the warmth of liquor in your veins.

You should probably get a coat given that the alcohol won’t really protect you and you’re not close enough to the fire to bask in its heat, but you don’t think you care enough. Not if it means seeing the one person whose presence suffocates you. The crowd is one thing, but Sukuna seems to outweigh every single one of them with just one glance. He crowds your world in a way a group of sweaty unknown college students can’t.

You wonder if maybe you had found him earlier in the night, if maybe you would have had the courage to ask about the kiss. Liquid courage maybe, but courage nonetheless.

You wonder if he would have told you it meant nothing and to move on from him. You wonder if he would have told you to fuck off. If you’re nothing to him.

Yet somehow those don’t seem to scratch the surface of the complicated canyon of emotions that holds you both at arms’ length. Each possibility is too simple.

With a sigh, you cross your arms over the balcony, letting the cold metal raise goosebumps along your skin as you rest your chin on them. Down below, your friends seem like they’re having a good time. Shoko’s attention is on another brunette you recognize from your history class while Satoru and Suguru joke alongside some other frat members.

You long to be a part of that, but you know you would be feigning a smile if you returned.

You shouldn’t be this drunk and this jealous when Sukuna isn’t yours and never has been. Hell, he hasn’t even spoken to you in-person since the kiss.

Maybe you’re this jealous because you’re this drunk.

“Need a jacket?”

You startle at the sound of Sukuna’s voice, a mix of dread, uncertainty, and jealousy raging in your system.

“You scared me,” you murmur, standing upright. Great, just who you want to see.

Sukuna hums. “My bad.” Shutting the balcony door behind him, he takes a couple of steps forward until he’s next to you, though he keeps an uneasy distance between you.

The drop-off between you is so evident it’s almost as though it’s real and physically repelling you from one another. Sukuna shuffles, the silence unbearable to his inebriated mind as he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“I didn’t fuck her.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as the shed in the corner of the yard suddenly becomes of great interest. “Don’t say it like that…” you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I didn’t have sex with ‘er.”

You sigh again. The phrasing wasn’t really the point behind your words, but he’s either too drunk, too high, or too focused on the way you took a step away from him to notice. “It’s none of my business, Sukuna.”

He doesn’t know what to say to fix this. You’re talking to him, and that’s a start, but he’s way too far gone to soundly come up with an apology that makes sense, so his mouth just starts running.

“My apartment’s overrun with lizards.”

Even upset, you crack a smile. It’s hard not to at the thought of his little brothers absolutely littering his place in little bead lizards, all because you showed them the trick to the feet.

“The lil’ brat lectured me on the difference between lizards n’ geckos,” he pauses, a noticeable slur to his drunken speech. “Still think they’re pretty much th’same.”

“They’re a species and a subspecies,” you reply monotonously.

Sukuna doesn’t like your tone, devoid of any emotion. He shuffles slightly towards you. You look hot, but Sukuna knows better now than to blindly follow his desires, even in his completely intoxicated state. “Jus’ because you added ‘sub’ t’the word doesn’ make ‘em different.”

You let out a long sigh. “Are we not gonna talk about it, Sukuna?” You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as you turn to face him.

He straightens, pinned in place by your conflicted scowl. Your eyes are glazed, you’re drunk too, and you seem more upset than your emails lead him to believe. Maybe it’s just the alcohol clouding his ability to grasp your expressions.

“‘M sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You echo his apology, a brow quirked.

“Yeah. It was a mistake.”

That hits you like a slap in the face and you purse your lips, staring at the ground as you take one, two steps back from him, with the intention of heading back inside. No, with the intention of going home.

“Fuck, no, no. Wait.” Sukuna’s jaw hangs ajar as he follows your stride, walking two steps towards you. His tongue runs across his lower lip as he hesitates, brushing a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant.”

Your throat is tight as you fight back tears. You can’t help but wish you weren’t drunk while having this conversation, then maybe the tears wouldn’t be so quick.

“I-” Sukuna fights with himself, “- I was thinkin’ with the wrong head.”

Right. So he’s doubling down on it being a mistake. You nod slowly, turning away with a sharp intake of breath.

“Wait, shit. Wait. ‘M sorry, I’m way too fuckin’ drunk n’ high n’ shit to be doin’ this right now,” he scrambles with his words, taking another step after you. You stop again, giving him another chance to explain himself. You’ve always been too kind and patient with him.

Grappling with the thoughts running through his mind, he shuts his eyes for a moment with a deeply furrowed brow, red eyes dilating as the light of Gojo’s bedroom behind you illuminates your silhouette. Your dress suits you and frames your curves so well that it’s driving him insane, jumbling his thoughts even further. These thoughts are what got him into this situation to begin with.

“There was so much shit goin’ on n’ I wasn’t thinkin’ straight,” he slurs, red eyes flickering between yours. He can see the hurt in your eyes and he’s far too inebriated to even begin thinking about why it is that you’re so hurt he would refer to the kiss as a mistake. That’s a can of worms he can’t possibly begin to wrap his brain around in this state. “I was jus’... I dunno. I was chasin’ somethin’ I shoudn-” he pauses as his words slur, “- I shouldn’t have.”

You let out a scoff of disbelief. It doesn’t matter how many different ways he words it, at the end of the day it’s clear as mud. It was a mistake. His excuse, though? That’s just pitiful and insulting.

“Do you think I don’t have a lot going on? Do you think that somehow my problems aren’t worth as much just because I don’t have two jobs and kids?” Your words are sharp, and they take a moment to sink in.

“No. Fuck. I jus-” He pauses again, knuckles white as he balls his hands into fists at his sides, his jaw clenching in frustration. He could use a dictionary right about now. Maybe just a whole damn linguist. Hell, he needs someone to read his mind because everything is coming out jumbled and it’s pissing him the fuck off, when all he really wants to say is, “Fuck, I jus’… don’t wan’ the kids to lose ya.” He swallows hard. “I don’t wanna lose ya.”

Your shoulders fall, your defenses crumbling. What? “What?”

Now that he has your attention again, he turns back to the balcony, hunching over it. The cool metal railing lulls his heated skin. Soothes the burning anger with his own inability to process a single thought. Maybe drinking to forget wasn’t his brightest idea.

He says your name quietly. It sounds foreign, vulnerable, when it falls from his lips that way. “I’m losin’ the kids.”

You take a step towards him, tilting your head to get a better view of his face. His expression is solemn, but you’re not sure you understand where he’s going with this. They seemed pretty fond of him when you saw them last week. Choso surely wouldn’t be expressing his worries to you if he didn’t love Sukuna.

“What do you mean?”

“Their fuckin’ mother slapped me with court orders. She’s takin’ ‘em.”

Your blood runs cold, eyes widening. The legal documents. You’d always assumed it was some foolish run-in Sukuna must have had with someone with a bit too much power or money, but never once had you stopped to consider that it could be something like this.

“No, what? You’re gonna fight for them, aren’t you?” You ask, voice strained.

“The hell ‘m I supposed to do?” He barks, turning to face you with a snarl. The look on his face isn’t one of anger, however. It’s distress. “Pull money outta my ass to pay f’r a lawyer?”

You frown. “Maybe you can find a pro-bono attorney?”

Sukuna’s too drunk for this. “Free? That’s free, right?”

You nod.

“The fuck’s a shitty free attorney gonna do? Convince the court that the older brother with two jobs, school, n’ tattoos c’n take better care of two brats than the person who birthed ‘em?”

“Sukuna, come on-”

He doesn’t stop there. “No court’s stupid enough to say no when she pushed ‘em out-”

“Eugh, don’t say that.”

“- that’s not even mentionin’ the fact that she practically shits cash with how much she’s got-”

“Sukuna! Okay, I get it.” You set a hand on his bicep, grounding him as he stares at it. Your touch is searing. He’s not sure if it’s because of the cold, his anger, or something else entirely. He’s not in the state of mind to think about it. His chest heaves as your steady voice speaks so softly to him that it does manage to calm him, even if only a bit. “How much water have you had tonight?”

He huffs. “None.”

“That… makes sense,” you chuckle lightly, shooting him a tired smile. “Why don’t we start there?”

Had one of his friends asked a half hour ago, he would have rolled his eyes and downed the Jack Daniels in his pocket. After his beyond frustrating last few minutes where he couldn’t seem to get a single word out, it doesn’t sound nearly as bad.

“Fine,” he agrees, following after you as you turn to lead the way back to Gojo’s room, only to pause at the door.

“You didn’t lock the door behind you, did you?”

“What? No.” He peers over you, wrinkling his nose at the sight of a couple tangled in one another on Gojo’s bed.

You can only pray he didn’t notice you and Sukuna up on the balcony at all, he’d kill you if he knew what was going on.

“How convenient,” Sukuna deadpans, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he shields you from the couple with his body, ducking through the room as quickly as possible and shutting the door behind him. His grip on your shoulder doesn’t relent as he keeps you close to his body while heading down the stairs, through the crowd and towards the kitchen, shielding you from the sweaty dance floor.

You scramble to keep up with him, needing to move at almost double your walking pace just to keep up with him as he drags you along. Your cheeks are burning and whether that’s from the alcohol or his touch, you’re not sure.

Once you’re in the kitchen, he loosens his grip on your shoulder and watches silently as you move around the cabinets and fridges, filling a glass of water for him.

He hums in acknowledgement, leaning back against the counter. You hop up on the marble beside him, watching as he slowly sips on the water, staring down at the liquid that vibrates with the thump of the bass.

“So,” you begin, pulling his attention back to you. “You don’t wanna lose me, huh?”

Sukuna’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare, but it dissipates as he realizes you aren’t teasing. You’re lucky he’s drunk, because there’s no other circumstance where you would get such a direct answer from him. “No.”

“Is that why you didn’t reach out to talk about it?”

He returns his gaze to the water in his hand, rippling in the glass. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what t’ say. I overstepped boundaries.”

You sigh, glad he’s found a more eloquent way of putting how he really feels rather than just labelling the whole thing as ‘a mistake’. You wish he started with that, but obviously drunk, high, and in a panic to keep you from walking away, his words failed him. You can accept that he doesn’t see you romantically but values your friendship.

“It’s okay, Sukuna. We… both… overstepped boundaries,” you offer with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s clear that what Sukuna needs right now is a friend, someone to support him and look out for him when he needs it most. You’ll be that for him, even if it means leaving your feelings for him at the door.

His eyes narrow again as he looks at you, irises flickering between your pupils as though he’s trying to make sense of something, but he lets it go to down some water, turning to the sink to refill his glass.

You don’t bring up the kids with people flooding the kitchen around you, keeping the conversation casual. Sukuna points out his friends in the corner at one point, telling you he’ll introduce you when Toji’s not drunk because apparently ‘he’s a prick’. You recognize Uraume’s name from a while ago when they had watched the kids so that Sukuna could be there to get your grade for your project. Sukuna tells you that he thinks you’ll get along well.

It’s gradual, but his speech eventually stops slurring and he joins you on the counter, though his head and shoulder hit the cabinet behind him and he hardly fits.

“Wait- that was today?”

“Mhm. I probably woulda been kicked out if Toji and Atsuya didn’t hold me back.” He flashes you his knuckles that are, as he expected, beginning to bruise.

“Something tells me you say that from experience,” you giggle.

“Somethin’ like that. Last time, it was Toji’s fault, though,” he shrugs, downing more water. You’re both now just comfortably buzzed and Sukuna doesn’t seem nearly as tense as when you were up on the balcony.

“Sounds like I should be glad I’ve never met this Naoya guy.”

“Tch. If you even see that slimebag look at you, head the other way. Guy’s a walking red flag.”

“Noted.” You kick your feet, staring down at your black heels dangling from them. “Oh, by the way, have you ever tried that diner near your place?”

“What diner?” He’s staring down at your feet as well, watching the movement as they gently sway.

“The one like a block over from your apartment, with the blue and pink logo?”

Sukuna stifles a laugh, but it still bubbles up in his chest and he snorts. “That’s a fuckin’ strip club, princess.”

“No it isn’t!” You insist with certainty.

“It’s literally called Strip Joint.” He points out with a smug grin.

“Kuna. They make chicken strips. It’s a joke, they’re a chicken strip joint.”

His lips part in disbelief as he tilts his head to look at you. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m dead serious,” you giggle. “How did you not know?”

“What do you mean ‘how did I not know’? How did you know?” He waves his hand out in the air like it isn’t quite as obvious as it seems. He’s got a point, it absolutely looks the part of a strip club with a dark outside and bright neon sign, but that only makes you laugh harder.

“You know what, now that I think about it, I actually think I know that because Satoru took us there for his birthday and thought it was a strip club,” you ponder the time you first visited, but can’t place if that was your first visit for sure.

“See!” He’s grinning, his cheeks dusted in a shade of red that suits him, just as well as his smirk does. Another one of those rare moments where you think you’re seeing the real Sukuna, even in the midst of everything bogging him down. It’s a good look on him, one that sends your heart soaring. “I’m sure the frat boy loved that.”

“You know, he wasn’t as upset as you would think he’d be,” you giggle, shaking your head.

Sukuna hums, glancing around momentarily. “Can’t believe I live right next to a chicken finger place and the boys don’t know. They’d love that shit.”

Your heart falls, but you do what you can to mask it at the mention of his little brothers. “Let’s check it out.”

“We can do that sometime,” he agrees, yawning.

“No, I mean why don’t we go now?”

Sukuna’s brow arches. “You wanna take my drunk and high ass to a chicken finger shop?”

“I think that makes it funnier, honestly,” you grin, hopping down off the counter. Sukuna contemplates your request for a moment, before dropping down to his feet with a thump.

“Fine,” he huffs, shoving his hands into his jogger pockets as he follows after you. You both pull your jackets from the front coat rack and closet and step back out into the cold. Considerably less drunk than last time you were outside, it’s markedly colder.

Thank god Sukuna’s apartment isn’t too far from campus, unlike yours. You’d had every intention of crashing at Shoko’s overnight, so you’d likely just head back to her place when the night ends if you can get a hold of her.

Heels probably weren’t your greatest call with all the snow, but you manage to keep yourself from slipping by walking slower. It’s a snail’s pace for Sukuna, but as much as he grumbles and gripes about it, he’ll be more than okay.

Jogging up to the door, you pull it open with a shiver and thank every god you can think of that it’s open at one in the morning.

Just as you had said, it’s a diner that specialises in chicken strips, classically decorated in reds to go with the otherwise grayscale diner colors. Off to one side lies a row of red leather booths, while there’s a faded red counter with patches of bare oak where forearms and plates have worn the color from the wood. The lights are dim, with one at the back of the diner flickering softly.

The restaurant is empty aside from one employee and an older man drinking coffee at the counter before her.

“Have a seat wherever, dears.” The kind old employee smiles softly at you, gesturing to the booths. You return her smile, leading Sukuna to a booth in the center of the diner, a couple away from the flickering light.

Sukuna shuffles into the booth, shrugging off his coat and leaning against his bent elbow. He yawns, grunting in thanks when the employee leaves menus before you. He doesn’t look as disinterested as usual, but tired hardly cuts the dark circles lining his eyes.

You peruse the menu for a moment, glancing up at Sukuna. His eyes are skimming the menu, his fingers drumming lightly on the white table lined in metallic silver.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?”

Sukuna’s brow arches. “Chicken.”

“Alright, smartass,” you giggle. “I’m thinking of having ice cream.”

Sukuna’s gaze narrows. “You complained about it being cold the whole way here.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t that sound good?”

“Chicken sounds good,” he mumbles.

“You’re just high.”

“You’re just drunk,” he counters, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He shuts the menu after a moment, setting it at the side of the table to get the waitress’ attention. The kind woman rounds the bar and pulls out a small notepad and pen.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the six piece meal,” Sukuna starts, holding his hand out for you to go next.

“I’ll have the chocolate ice cream.”

“You were serious?” Disbelief drips from Sukuna’s tone as he shoots you a look like you’ve gone mad before the waitress can even confirm your orders. You kick his shin lightly under the table and he shuts his mouth with a grimace, muttering a ‘thanks’ when the waitress confirms your orders and heads back to the bar. “You were serious?” He repeats once she’s gone.

“Of course! Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Not really,” he chuckles, still leaning against his palm.

“Well, I think it sounds great.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever the princess wants, she gets.”

You grin at him as your stomach flutters at the nickname, following his gaze outside. The street lamps cast an eerie yellow light over the otherwise still roads, your fresh footprints the only sign of life out there. No cars pass by the side road at such early hours of the morning, the hustle and bustle of city life momentarily paused as most people settle in the warmth of their homes for rest.

“What are you gonna do, Sukuna?”

He yawns, wiping tears from his eyes. “‘Bout what?”

“The kids.”

“Mm.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. It’s a bit short for him and he has to slump down for any amount of back support. “Dunno. Not sure I can do much.”

“What about the pro-bono idea?”

“Maybe,” he hums, a little more level-headed as you inquire this time around. “I don’t think some free attorney off the streets is gonna do many favors against whatever expensive asshole their mom’s payin’ for, though.”

“Maybe, but you never know. It’s better than self-defense,” you shrug.

“Unless I find Daredevil on the streets, I get the feelin’ it won’t really matter.” The defeat hanging around him like a spectre seems to weigh heavily on him as he stares out the window.

“You can’t just give up.”

He throws his hands up in frustration, though he’s too tired to back it up with words. He supposes you can take that however you’d like, he’s not about to fight with you about this, not when this lawsuit almost cost your friendship all because his dumbass step-mother chose to deliver the legal papers at the most inconvenient time.

“They need you, Kuna. Where’s their mom been all this time, anyway?” Your brow furrows at the thought. Why does Sukuna have his brothers if their mom’s still around?

“Dunno. Overseas or some shit. She took a high-paying position and our dad refused to move us with her. When he passed, I tried to get a hold of anyone on her side of the family. Not a single word. Even the lawyers couldn’t reach any of ‘em.” He shrugs, reaching up to scratch his jaw as his gaze remains fixed out the window.

“Huh. What about your mom?”

Either Sukuna’s feeling kind today, or he’s too tired to fight your nosiness. Whatever it is, he shrugs again in reply. “Dunno about her either. I was an accident. My dad was nineteen when they had me, she signed me away the moment I was born.”

You suppose his statement from the other night about his father ‘knowing how to pick them’ makes more sense with this context. It seemed neither woman had done any of his sons any favors.

“I’m sorry, Sukuna.” “It’s whatever,” he mutters through a yawn.

“Hey, what about the law students or professors?”

He tilts his head, leaning over the table on both of his forearms. “What about them?”

“Have you spoken to them?”

“No. I dunno any of ‘em and I’m not about to get anyone involved.”

“Don’t you think it’s worth it? For Yuji and Choso?”

Sukuna parts his lips to reply, pausing momentarily when your ice cream and his chicken arrive. You both quietly thank the waitress before he continues. “‘Course, but I’m not gettin’ my hopes up.”

You frown, spooning some ice cream into your mouth. After your first bite, you chew on your lip in thought. “Would you consider talking to a law student? I know you would need to tell them what’s going on and that isn’t what you want, but…” You trail off, not really sure there’s a sound ‘but’ behind your insistence on helping him.

He sighs, finishing a chicken strip in only a couple of bites. “You think it’s worth it?”

You nod, swallowing another bite of ice cream. “I just know if I were in your position, I would be trying everything. I couldn’t possibly let go of them.”

Sukuna’s heart twists and he runs a hand through his hair. There it is again, that uncomfortable sensation of being outside of his own body as panic grips him. It’s the same feeling from when you mentioned him being their hero. It’s like you’ve dropped something on him that he doesn’t quite know how to handle.

He stares down at his plates, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“Sukuna?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, strained. He subconsciously slides his foot out until he finds yours, as though he’s seeking your presence for comfort again like the night spent in his room. You set your spoon down, watching as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

You open your mouth to voice your concern, but he interrupts before you can.

“You know one? A law student?”

You chew on your lip briefly, taking in his distant expression. As though being high, buzzed on alcohol, tired, and mildly hungover isn’t all enough for one person, now he also hardly seems present.

“I don’t, but one of Kento’s friends is in the program.”

“Great,” Sukuna mutters, rolling his eyes as he jabs his chicken a little bit too harshly in plum sauce. “My biggest fan.” You knock his foot beside you, which seems to bring him back to the present somewhat.

“You know, I think if you explain to him what’s going on, he might not be so cold to you.”

The pink-haired man makes a show out of his disdain for including Kento with a dramatic groan. “If it makes it easier with the law student, then sure, but,” he pauses, shooting you a glance, “I choose what I share.”

You pick up your spoon again, shoveling more ice cream into your mouth. “I wouldn’t share any of your secrets. Kento doesn’t know about your brothers.”

He doesn’t doubt that’s true, otherwise he thinks he may have garnered just a little bit more sympathy from the blonde. He’s fairly sure the only reason he’s still just barely on Shoko’s good side is the fact that she knows he’s taking care of two snot-nosed brats.

He mutters out a barely audible thanks before focusing on his food. Even as he eats, he’s running out of steam, just barely managing to stay awake as comfortable silence hangs between you. It’s a stark contrast from a few hours ago, the rift patched and stitched with a nice little bow to top it all off and for that he’s beyond grateful.

“Do you wanna try some?” You hold out your spoon as he sets his plate aside, wiped clean.

He reaches out, taking the spoon and popping it in his mouth. “That’s pretty good. I thought it was just Breyers or some shit.”

You shake your head, staring down at the couple of remaining scoops. “I think it’s made in-house.”

He hums in agreement, leaning over the table with a yawn and you get the feeling it’s time to go home. Waving the waitress over, you request the bills with a polite smile.

“Together or separate?” She inquires with a kind smile in return.

“Together.”

“Separate.”

“Together,” Sukuna doubles down, pulling out his wallet.

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs at the question. “You got one ice cream, I think I’ll manage.”

Giving in, you nod at the waitress.

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Mm,” he hums as he pulls out his credit card, paying quickly before sliding out of the booth and throwing his coat on. You follow suit, thanking the waitress and heading back out into the cold.

“You promise you’re okay with me reaching out to Kento about this? It probably won’t be until after Christmas, he’s back in our hometown with family,” you explain.

“It’s fine. Worth a shot, right?”

You smile at his willingness to work with you. He’s shown you an awful lot of vulnerability all night, and you appreciate his honesty, even if there’s still a pang of disappointment that your feelings for him aren’t mutual.

“You need me to walk you back to the frat house?”

Your nose wrinkles at the thought. You really don’t want to stay there if you don’t have to, and your buzz has completely faded. You have no desire to return to the party, which you would need to do if you wanted to crash with Shoko. “That’s alright, I think I’ll head home.”

Sukuna rolls his shoulders backwards, fighting a yawn. “Uber? Busses aren’t running this late.”

“Yeah, I’ll get one now.”

“I’m comin’ with you.”

“Sukuna, you’ve been yawning for the better part of the last two hours. You look like you’re ready to pass out,” you point out, reaching forward to poke him in a similar fashion to back when you first met his brothers and teasingly shoved him to prove a point.

Marginally more awake than your first encounter with his brothers, Sukuna grabs your wrist before you can poke him. “Nice try, princess. It’s two in the morning, I just wanna make sure you make it home. I’ll walk back after.”

Your heart should not be soaring like it is right now given the fact that he openly admitted to you that he overstepped boundaries, but you can’t help the way it races. “Okay,” you smile meekly, waiting alongside him for the car you hailed to pull up.

The ride is an odd one as Sukuna struggles to stay awake while the driver recounts his night, but his presence is comforting in what would otherwise be an awkward ride.

Arriving back at your apartment, you open the app and add a secondary destination, keying in Sukuna’s apartment. He sluggishly goes to get out but you dash around the car as best as you can in your heels to block him.

“Thanks for getting me home, now I’m getting you home.”

He’s too drained to start something with you for being too kind when he could just walk home, returning to his seat with resignation and a mildly contemptful expression.

“Thanks,” he grumbles, though he’s internally much more grateful than he’d have you believe.

“Text- uh- email me when you get home.”

He blows air from his nose, amused. “Yeah. Night, princess.”

“Goodnight, Kuna.”

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❦ a/n ; i hope you guys enjoyed the chicken strip conversation as much as i did, maybe i'm just tired but i though it was toooo cute something about writing sukuna fumbling through his day-to-day life is so enjoyable, this poor poor man. i love him sm 😭 as always, thank you for reading and a huge shoutout to each and every one of you who's interacted with my posts, you guys seriously make my day and are a big part of the reason i'm having so much fun sharing this story with you all. thank you all <33

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mouchiiarts · 3 days ago

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1. My first ever oc was a character named Khaos. He was originally a human who was experimented on and turned into a chimera by a facility who had been advertising themselves as a medical institution who could heal miraculously disabled children/people. Khaos ran away with another girl, who'd been turned into a half snow leopard anthro and eventually they found a portal to another dimension and escaped there. Oh btw he was basically a humanoid Discord from MLP.

2. If I had to choose, it would probably be either Gaelför or Akina. They're my favorites not because of their designs, but also because of their stories.

3. Nope. I'd love to, but the ones I come across typically are outside of my budget.

4. Probably some of my older oc's! Like Angela or my Suitor Armor oc's.

5. Gaelför and Fukukochoumi Akina! Out of all of my oc's, these two are my favorites.

6. I think for the most part my oc's are decently distinct in their appearances from one another. But I can see Nunah and Angela possibly being confused for siblings or something similar?

7. Yes! Gaelför, Kirsi, and other oc's are a part of a story I'm calling "Black Snow." I plan to turn it into a webcomic, and I'm currently working on the script and official character sheets for the most important characters. Anything about them is under the "black snow" tag on my tumblr.

8. Nope. I don't RP.

9. I don't think so. All of my oc's are very near and dear to me, I couldn't possibly part with them!

10. This is just her concept art. Her final design will definitely be more complex.

11. Tia! She's my baby and I absolutely love her I don't draw her enough.

12. Lukas! He's an absolute sweetheart and he's super curious about earth and everything about it!

13. Kiora! She's a chaotic neutral tiefling bard, so she's bound to be mischievous to some degree.

14. Gaelför again lol. Although I won't reveal everything bc I want to keep some things a suprise for the comic, I'll reveal a few things. His tribe were betrayed by a village of humans, which led to the death of his parents and planted the seed of his hatred for humans.

15. Yes!

16. Mm... Probably Mitsuha? She's quite shy and nervous around people, but she has an excellent memory and loves to learn new things.

17. (I'm including some oc x canon) Chisuke x Keigo Takami, Fukukochoumi Akina x Thoma, Gaelfor x Kirsi, Tia x Fenrir, Adria x Iida, and likely more.

18. Nope!

19. Gosh, all of my oc's mean something to me. But Akina probably means the most. She's one of the oldest oc's I still have (in terms of how intact she is with her original self). Her journey of self acceptance and owning her own femininity and becoming more confident in herself after she's found friends/a place to call home means a lot to me.

20. None of my oc's really sing aside from Akina? I don't have a voice actress in mind, but she'd definitely have a very beautiful singing voice that's very strong and melidoc.

21. I don't have one!

22. Not really? I know some of my oc's will eventually get mischaracterized, but none at the moment.

23. Akina! Originally, she was a calico cat girl maneki neko, although she did sell enchanted charms and trinkets like her modern counterpart!

24. Definitely Tia! She's an absolute sweetheart and I would love to have tea with her in her cottage.

25. ... Kirsi. She's about my height (a little taller) and has short hair like me. It's not as curly as mine though! And my hair isn't white lol

26. Nope. Any and all changes I've done to my oc's have been of my own choice or for the betterment of their story.

27. Nope.

28. Chisuke or Gaelför. Chisuke because of her incredibly dangerous blood quirk, quick reflexes, and ruthlessness. Gaelför because of his strength combined with his firescales.

29. None of them would lol. Either they're too scared to, or they just don't want to.

30. Igni (Gaelför and Kirsi's adopted eldest daughter). She acts all tough and abrasive, but she would 1000% have a huge hoard of plushies

31. Tia would have a very soft cottage core theme blog. Lots of recipes, plants, and lots of nature photos. She'd probably have like a Howl's Moving Castle gifset reblogged every couple days too.

32. Gaelfor! Gaelfor 100%! Especially early chapters Gaelfor! He's a 7'9" Ddraikin who can heat up his scales to incredibly hot temperatures. Once he figures out how, he can be an incredibly ruthless hunter, who's good at tracking scents, combat, and other skills.

33. Mitsuha! She's a maneki neko yokai who's super shy, but once you get to know her, she'll be one of your closest friends.

34. Yep! Sïndri and Nyx are Gaelför and Kirsi's twin boys! I haven't drawn them yet!

35. Fenrir and Callum are brothers. Gaelför also has a sister named Ylva. Akina has her younger brother, Haitao, and her younger sister, Iyla.

36. Not yet. I have an Avatar (2009) oc I'm hoping to pair with a mutual's oc! But she hasn't had the chance to design him yet.

37. Lukas. He's a tall, lanky alien boy for a sci-fi alien story I had in mind. He's a part of a species which is mostly humanoid, but they're built for their mostly aquatic nocturnal planet.

38. Akina! She's literally a performer and her dance is used as an opening show for a specific autumn festival in Inazuma!

39. I unfortunately cannot remember his name at the moment, but he's a human who's super into the supernatural and aliens. He's Lukas' best friend and is the only human who knows Lukas is a shapeshifting alien.

40. All of them have fond memories, really! Just drawing them is enough fun for me.

41. Yes! Quite a few people have! A mutual @roxxiespirt has drawn this of my MHA oc Iron Eagle in my Mama Bird au!

42. Probably Carmen. She's a total bookworm (she's also from the unnamed alien story)

43. ... body type can kinda vary but... skinny women with a pixie cut/short hair. They are also kinda standoffish or a more tsundere archetype. I don't know why. But this has happened multiple times. Chisuke (MHA), Angela Lumonte (Spy X Family), Andromeda (BG3), Nunah (Suitor Armor), etc. I uh. Have a type I enjoy drawing apparantly.

44. I like that, to some degree, they all have one or more trait of myself. Some of them are nervous as well as confident, some show they're capable of change, and others don't. Plus their designs are all super fun to draw,

45. I have.. so many. There are so so many characters from older/abandoned stories that I no longer use. But in an older version of Black Snow (originally titled Silver Rings and Potion Bottles) Kirsi (then Kiki) had a sister,, which turned into a lot of different sisters. There was also Oliver, who was a redesigned version of Khaos to fit into the SRaPB universe. He was one of Kiki's witch friends!

46. ... yeah. I kinda enjoy traumatizing my friends with the lore I create for my oc's so I've definitely been told I'm being mean to them.

47. Sorta? They say (insert oc name) is baby but not specifically their baby if you know what I mean.

48. Fynn! He's the golden sunshine dead husband of Nunah! He was a really kind herbalist Nunah absolutely fell in love with when they first met as teens. He's... unfortunately dead. But he's a sweet lad.

49. Lukas. Or Carmen.

50. Gaelför belongs to a species/race from my original story Black Snow! They're native to the continent of Gal'ruk, and tend to stick to the northern parts of the continent, on the other side of a wall of active volcanoes called the Ignimurus! When he was about 10, he snuck away from his tribe to go and fight off the group of Seekers (Ddraikin hunters/collectors) who were camping close to them. He was quickly overpowered by the hunters, and was taken away from his tribe. He was then enslaved as an Executioner in the human city of Cal'deur for 14 years. He only managed to escape the city because of a chance escape he made one day while in the ring with a magi prisoner he was supposed to kill (Kirsi). He's not exactly what I would call a good person towards the beginning of his story. He's cruel, unkind, and only thinks for himself. It isn't until he makes a deal with Kirsi to help him get home, along with some other misadventures along the way, does he actually begin to grow and change for the better!

Some OC questions

#yetanotherOCmeme #black snow #ocs #oc #original character #mouchii ocs

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4theluvofsapphos · 2 days ago

Text

┊┊★ ⋆ PAYRAISE (NSFW) ⋆ ★┊ ┊

Mean Boss!Agatha x Personal Assistant!Reader

plot ~ you piss off your boss when you threaten to leave and she convinces you to stay the way she always does.

Ao3 Link: here!

AN: 300+ of you voted and some 30% of you guys wanted some Mean!Boss Agatha and Reader spiciness! I hope you guys enjoy. it will probably be kinda OOC I can't see Aggie being this mean in any other universe :,P tags: [[MDNI! 18+]] harsh/absuive language, Agatha basically committing work place harassment, degradation/praise, manhandling/rough, fingering (r receiving), mentions of drunk angry emailing, hair pulling (r receiving), choking (r receiving), titles 'mistress' (a receiving), blackmail(???) or coercion

"I'm leaving." You barked, slamming your resignation papers down on the table with a splayed hand.

You glared at your 'employer', if you could even call her that. She was your boss, but she was also your girlfriend, but she wasn't really. She took you out on dates, she let you borrow her coat. She fucked you.

God, did she fuck you.

But that wasn't enough to keep you around any longer. She had thrown you around since day one, pulling you in with her charm and her sweet smile, only to spit in your face and push you back out the second you got too close to her heart.

She was sat at her desk, arms folded as she stared at her computer screen, no doubt reading over the angry email you had sent her before coming into work the previous night while drunk off some cheap vodka. She made no move to look up, her glasses sliding down her nose as her irises flitted across the choice words you had sent to her.

"I said I'm-"

"You can't. You won't" She retorted, gaze flicking up to glare at you with a pointed expression. There it was...that malice. That disgustingly possessive glowering that she did when she wanted to make you do something. It made your stomach turn and flip with butterflies...or were they wasps?

"No, Agatha. You can't make me stay anymore. You treat me like shit, you work me to the bone. You abuse me, you've made my life a living hell just because you wanted to. Just because you'd rather die than be vulnerable with me."

The brunette's pointed gaze twisted into a snarl and she stood up, her chair sliding back with a loud rattle as its wheels hit the back of the room.

"You're naive, you know that?" She spat, her blue eyes drilling into you with so much hatred-- and something else. Hurt.

You leaned over the table, your index finger jabbing into her sternum as you spoke, emphasising each accusation with a painful poke.

"You're just hurt I don't want to deal with your bullshit anymore. You've finally run out of young girls in Westview to play around with and you're mad about it."

You scowled as she stood, grabbing your forearm and shoving you back. She wasn't that much taller than you, but you wore flats, where she wore heels, and she was able to-- like she always did- look down on you. Peering down over the bridge of her nose, she sneered at you.

"Hurt?" A sharp laugh, a laugh of condescension,"You're the one close to tears, y/n. Don't look at me like I'm the one who hurt you when you are the one who doesn't know when to fucking stop."

You felt your face heat up at the older woman's pointed observation, your lips pursing and brow furrowing as you tried to keep the squeeze in your throat from reaching your eyes. You blinked hard, the tears managing to disperse on your waterline so she didn't have the pleasure of seeing them fall.

"Whatever. I'm leaving." You mumbled, folding your arms to try and comfort yourself and turning on your heel. Before you could get even two steps in, a sharp pain tugged at your scalp, your head throwing back as your hair was forcefully tugged on.

"I can change your mind, y/n..." That honeyed voice oozed into your mind, enveloping all of you and dissolving your common sense. Logically, you knew how this would end. She would fuck you, apologise, and then kiss you and expect you back at the same time tomorrow. Maybe she'd even text you to ask you on a date that coming weekend.

You knew it was her tactic.

She knew it worked.

Those slender fingers moved to cradle the back of your neck, spinning you around so you were face to face again. You were both leaning over her desk, Agatha having pushed her laptop aside in the time that you two had bickered.

"Agatha." You warned, your tone low and shaky.

"Y/n..." She murmured back, her lips pulling into that mischievous little smirk that melted your resolve every time.

With a simple look to the desk, you knew what she was asking. You crawled up, legs coming to swing over and hang off the ledge of the large wooden desk as Agatha settled between your legs. You looked up at her with angry eyes, the annoyance in you clashing with the puppy love she knew you were always eager to give her. "I'm sorry...." She crooned, the hand on the back of your head coming to trace its knuckles along your jaw, rubbing affectionately against your warm cheeks.

Tears welled in your eyes at the apology, not because she meant it-- but because you knew how much of a fool you were being right now.

"...It- Just--" You wiped away your tears, grabbing Agatha's shoulders and crashing your lips against hers in an upset, messy kiss. She hummed against you, hand coming from your jaw to the small of your back, her other hand holding the nape of your neck so she could dip you lower. You felt her tongue forcing its way into your mouth, and you let it happen. The tears fell down your hot cheeks as she huffed and moaned quietly into your mouth. You let her take control. You always let her have control. With a whine that managed to squeeze from your throat, you wrapped your arms around her, fingers interlocked on the small of her back as she pulled you back to your seated position. The fire in your belly was stoked by the look she gave you, lipstick smudged and lips swollen as her hooded gaze caught on your sad eyes. "So you forgive me?" She teased, licking the excess saliva from her lower lip and raising a brow. You didn't reply, simply spreading your legs slightly and leaning back. With a little huff, you looked away, gaze falling to the floor-- feeling your entire body begin to heat up when those strong hands spread your legs wider, pushing your pencil skirt up over your thighs and revealing your panties. "Playing pouty, are you? I'll make you talk, angel." She hummed, one hand keeping the thigh that she wasn't leaning against open, while her other one came to brush her knuckles over your growing wetness. Embarrassment creeped up your neck and reddened your face even further as you whined and keened under her knowing hands. Her gaze flitted up to meet your reddened features,"Something wrong?" She wondered, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit, its sensitive and puffy state making your entire body stiffen and jolt at the touch.

"Please..." You gasped, thighs attempting to close around her hand but failing to do so. Her grip was iron clad on your thigh and you didn't mind one bit. "Please, who?" She purred, leaning in and pressing her chest to yours as you shied away from meeting her burning eyes.

Agatha didn't like that. Her hand flew up to grip your throat, squeezing firmly and getting your attention instantaneously. Your eyes widened and snapped to hers, fear prcikling up your spine-- pleasure following soon after.

You liked being handled roughly, but this was the first time Agatha had ever been this aggressive...though you couldn't say you disliked it.

"Please, who?" She asked again, the edge in her voice bordering on a growl as she squeezed ever harder. Your vision began to fuzz at the edges as she leaned in, her hot breath puffing against your face. Her other hand was still pressing firm against your clit, occasionally moving in a tight circle.

You keened at the feeling, back arching and pushing you further into her presence. Your gaze held hers, your voice croaky and trembling as you spoke.

"You-- fuh-- You, Mistress." You managed, whimpering when her fingers tightened, before loosening enough for oxygen to flood back into your body. You gasped for breath, ashamed when you felt yourself dripping. "God, look at you...such a little slut for everything I give you. You say you want to be treated better-- but look at the mess you make when I give you what you say you don't want?"

She hooked her fingers around your underwear, opting to pull them to the side instead of taking them off. Her other hand returned to your thigh, bottom lip pulling between her teeth as she revelled in the glistening cunt she knew belonged to her.

"Ag-- Mistress- please please...want you..." You mewled between pants and whines, trying to buck your hips up to meet her fingers. Agatha, ever the tease, pulled her hand back.

"You will take what I give you." She warned, eyes flashing with anger.

You whimpered, hips stilling almost immediately. "Yes, Mistress. I- I'm sorry..." Your response was automatic, pitifully so.

A satisfied smirk settled on Agatha's face at your response, chuckling as she gathered your slick onto her fingers. Holding it up to you, you felt your body flash with shame and embarrassment for the third time this evening.

"Eat." She commanded, and you immediately leaned forward, taking her dripping digits into your mouth with fervour. Agatha watched, satisfaction painted across her face as you lapped at her fingers, sucking them dry as if it wasn't your own mess. Anything to please her.

"Good girl." There it was, that scrap of praise you always longed for. You keened again, back arching as pleasure rolled up your spine and through your core, toes curling in your flats as you stared up at her with big eyes.

She tore her fingers away, the hand on your thigh coming up to wrap around your middle and pull you close as she thrust two fingers into your wanting hole.

"Miss--tress-!" You choked out, your voice breaking and your head falling against her shoulder as you felt her start up a relentlessly brutal pace.

"I'm sorry, baby..." She rasped between thrusts, her arm working in hard, heavy pumps as she pulled you against her, embracing you as she fucked you. "Fuhh-- Mmms'okay...." You gasped out between cries and moans of ecstasy filled pleasure. Agatha seemed to like this response, working a third finger into your leaking cunt. She groaned when she felt your walls fluttering around her hand, every possessive bone in her body flaring up when she heard your voice going breathy.

"Do you forgive me?" She asked, knowing you were in no position to be handing out forgiveness. She was manipulating you right here and now, but you couldn't find it in you to care. "Aggie..." You cried, drool pooling on her expensive blazer as she slammed her fingers into you, palm brushing your clit with every ministration. You felt your mind going blank and your body felt fuzzy and hot...you were going to cum, and she wouldn't let you unless you forgave her.

"I wouldn't want to ruin your orgasm..." She mused, the threat clear on her tongue. You whimpered in response whining and shaking your head. "N-No! Nonono...no, Aggie please please...lemme cum.." You whimpered and grabbed Agatha's wrist, squeezing your eyes shut. "Well, do you forgive me, y/n?" She asked, speeding up her thrusts and chuckling when your other hand dug into her back, nails scratching at the wool of her coat. You growled in frustration, forcing the words to form in your mind.

"Ohh-- fuh...nmmYES! Yes yes yes, yeah I- Oh fuck! I forgive you, ju-just please let me cum! Please!" You babbled, thighs twitching and snapping shut around Agatha's hand as she latched onto your neck, your orgasm crashing into you at the possessive gesture.

Your entire body went stiff and numb, pleasure pumping through your overworked veins as you struggled against Agatha's form, her hand still working you through your orgasm. The pleasure slowly passed, your body spasming and jumping with every brush of your boss's palm against your clit. "Mm-Aggie...'nuff.." You mumbled, weakly pushing her hand away and whining when she only slowed down. She continued to fuck you until your thighs were coated with your own slick, your body slumped against Agatha as you took whatever she gave you.

"I'm so glad we could come to an agreement." She purred, finally detaching from your neck. You were sure it was going to be the biggest, angriest bruise you had ever seen by the throbbing pain in your neck.

Your body stiffened at the comment, and you managed to lean back and glare at her with disapproval. "That wasn't a proper apology, Agatha. You know it." Agatha only smiled, pulling her fingers from you and wiping them off on her blazer, the sticky sheen glinting in the fluorescent light. "I guess I'll just have to keep apologising."

You furrowed your brows at her, hating the way you could feel the heat in your core rising again.

no happy ending sorry guys </3 hope you enjoyed! love, rhubarb <3!!

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness smut #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you #rhubarb writes

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rootedinrevisions · 23 hours ago

Text

All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy

SUMMARY: When a night of playful banter and teasing turns into something far more intimate, you find yourself crossing every line you swore you wouldn't with Jake Seresin - the cocky, infuriatingly charming pilot who's always had a way of getting under your skin. Between stolen kisses, soft confessions, and moments that blur the line between lust and something deeper, it becomes clear that this isn't just a one-time thing. But as Jake's Stetson wearing, sweet talking side leaves you breathless, you'll have to decide if you're ready to risk your heart for the man who's never been one to play it safe.

A/N: This is a combination of my love for Megan Moroney and her song "All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy" as well as a request that I received in November for the prompt "One kiss won't ruin the friendship, right?" and "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Hopefully whoever requested the prompts enjoys this! Thank you all for your patience with me as I write and get through the requests that I have.

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut (PinV. Mentions of biting/marking. Fingering.)

WORD COUNT: 12.4k (I'm ovulating and rewatched TGM a few days ago and fell back in love with Jake. Please don't judge me.)

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

The Hard Deck was alive with the hum of Christmas cheer. Twinkling string lights wrapped around wooden beams, and a small but charmingly crooked Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with red ornaments and what looked suspiciously like aviator sunglasses. The jukebox was cycling through a mix of classic rock and Christmas hits, creating an oddly festive but fitting soundtrack for the evening.

You sat at a table near the back, surrounded by familiar faces—your chosen family. Natasha sat to your left, nursing a whiskey sour and laughing at something Bob had just said. Reuben and Mickey were on your right, engaged in a heated debate about the best holiday movies. Bradley leaned back in his chair across from you, his mustache twitching with amusement as he chimed in occasionally, and Javy was at the bar grabbing the next round.

It had been months—maybe a year—since you’d met the Dagger Squad through a mutual friend, but somehow, they had adopted you like one of their own. Now, invites to their gatherings were automatic, and evenings like this one were the norm.

Phoenix nudged your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Alright, enough sitting on the sidelines. We’ve decided it’s time for a little holiday intervention.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your drink. “Holiday intervention?”

“You’ve been single for far too long,” she declared, gesturing dramatically with her drink. “It’s time we find you someone.”

Reuben snorted. “This again?”

“Yes, this again,” Phoenix shot back. “I mean, look at her.” She motioned to you with a flourish. “She's smart, funny, gorgeous—”

“Don’t forget stubborn,” Bob added with a grin.

“Exactly,” Phoenix said, unbothered. “We’re not letting you ring in another New Year without at least some action.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out despite yourself. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Natasha said, unconvinced. “You know, we could always ask Jake—”

“Ask me what?” The smooth, teasing drawl interrupted her, and you didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin strolled up to the table, pool cue slung over one shoulder, that infuriatingly perfect smirk already in place.

Natasha didn’t miss a beat. “We’re trying to set her up with someone. Know any decent guys who are single?”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe?—passed over Jake’s face before he quickly masked it with an exaggerated scoff.

“Decent guys? Here? Good luck.” He leaned on the back of an empty chair, his green eyes flicking to yours for just a moment before he addressed Natasha again. “Besides, she doesn’t need a setup. She’s clearly too good for anyone in this dump.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, taking a sip of your drink. “Seriously. I don’t need a relationship right now.”

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t need or don’t want?”

“Both.” The lie rolled off your tongue easily, but the weight of the unspoken truth settled in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship. You just didn’t want one with anyone who wasn’t Jake Seresin. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Sure,” Natasha drawled, clearly unconvinced.

“What about that guy over there?” Payback’s girlfriend suggested, nodding toward a tall man leaning against the bar. He was handsome, you supposed, but his eager smile didn’t stir anything in you.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said quickly.

“Okay fine, let’s figure out what you’re looking for. What is your type?” Natasha pressed, leaning in with a grin that told you she wasn’t going to drop this anytime soon.

“I don’t have a type.”

“Everyone has a type,” Mickey chimed in, his tone far too amused for your liking. “Dark hair? Light hair?”

“Light hair,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.

“Tall or short?” Natasha asked, clearly enjoying herself.

“Tall.”

“How tall?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Six feet? Six-one, maybe?”

Natasha grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anything else? Beard? No beard? Tattoos? Come on, give us something!”

You hesitated, suddenly very aware of Jake still leaning casually nearby, listening to every word. “I don’t know. Tall. Hot. In a Stetson?”

The table burst into laughter, but Jake rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck finding a cowboy here. Closest you’ll get is someone in boots and a flannel at line-dancing night.”

His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could overthink it, Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, he’s not wrong, but maybe you should branch out. Broaden your horizons a little.”

You shook your head, brushing her off with a laugh. “I’m fine, really. No setups needed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phoenix said, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

Jake’s smirk returned as he straightened up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual before he turned to head back to the pool table.

“Good luck, ladies,” he called over his shoulder.

You watched him go, trying not to let your eyes linger too long. If only they knew the cowboy you wanted wasn’t some hypothetical stranger—it was the one person you couldn’t have. Not that it mattered, you reminded yourself. Jake Seresin didn’t do relationships. And you? You didn’t do casual. It was better this way. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The night carried on, the crowd at The Hard Deck growing as more people trickled in, filling the space with laughter and music. You were mid-conversation with Phoenix and one of the guys' girlfriends, your drink in hand, when the first guy approached.

He wasn’t bad-looking—dark hair, decent smile—but you could tell right away he wasn’t your type. And the way he glanced over at Natasha before walking up only confirmed your suspicions.

“Hey,” he started, a little too confident. “Can I buy you another drink?”

You smiled politely, shaking your head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He lingered for a second longer than necessary, clearly waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t, he shrugged, muttered something under his breath, and walked away.

The moment he was out of earshot, Phoenix grinned. “What was wrong with that one?”

You gave her a look. “He wasn’t my type.”

“You’ve got to stop using that excuse,” she teased. “We’re just trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need help,” you said firmly, though your tone stayed light. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

The other woman smirked knowingly. “Sure you’re not.”

Over the next hour, two more guys approached you. Each time, you managed to slip away gracefully, making it clear you weren’t interested without causing a scene. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Natasha—or maybe one of the other girlfriends—was behind it.

By the third attempt, you shot Phoenix a pointed look. “Seriously?”

“What?” she said innocently, but her smile gave her away.

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“It’s because I care,” she said sweetly, raising her glass in mock toast.

Jake chose that moment to stroll over, his timing impeccable as always. “Everything okay over here?”

Phoenix grinned. “Oh, everything’s great. Just trying to find her the perfect man.”

Jake raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. “Perfect man, huh? Sounds like a tall order. I thought we were just going for someone to take her home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he nodded toward your now-empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. Just my usual, thanks.”

Jake gave a quick two-finger salute before heading toward the bar.

Phoenix watched him go, her expression unreadable for a moment before she turned back to you, her grin returning. “Wow. Hangman buying you a drink? That’s new.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

One of the guys at the table chimed in, smirking. “Yeah, he’s real nice, isn’t he? You know he’s from Texas. Could probably pull off that cowboy look you’ve been fantasizing about.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “It’s Jake. He’s not trying to get in my pants.”

“That’s what they all say,” Bob joked, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Jake returned a moment later, handing you your drink with a small, knowing smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you said, brushing off the teasing from the others as you took a sip.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Jake’s gaze lingered on you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he turned back toward the pool table. And despite everything, you couldn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat.

The hours slipped by, the bar gradually thinning out as the night wore on. You’d lost count of how many rounds of pool Jake had won or how many times Phoenix had tried to steer a random guy in your direction.

Despite it all, you’d actually had fun, laughing and teasing the squad like always. But now, your head felt a little too light, and your body a little too warm from the alcohol.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time. “Alright, I think I’m calling it,” you announced, sliding off your barstool.

Most of the group groaned in protest, but you waved them off. “Some of us have to be functioning humans tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re good?” Natasha asked, her sharp gaze flicking over you like she was scanning for cracks.

“Yeah, yeah,” you assured her, pulling on your jacket. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

But as you turned toward the door, your balance wavered slightly, the ground tilting just enough to make you grab the back of your stool for support. No one else seemed to notice, but Jake did.

You didn’t even realize he’d followed you outside until you felt the cool night air and heard his voice behind you. “You sure you’re good to get home?”

Startled, you turned to face him, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m getting an Uber.”

Jake’s expression darkened slightly, his hands settling on his hips. “An Uber? You’re telling me you’re gonna get into a car with some random guy you don’t know and let him take you home?”

You raised a brow, amused by his sudden concern. “Yes, Jake. That’s how Uber works.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his jaw working like he was turning over a decision in his head.

“I don’t like it,” he said finally. “Come on, let me drive you home.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical look. “Please tell me they didn’t convince you to try and ask me out too.”

Jake let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t a setup. I’m just being your friend.”

You squinted at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “You sure about that?”

“Promise,” he said, holding up his hands like he was swearing an oath. “Scout’s honor.”

You hesitated, the stubborn part of you tempted to insist you didn’t need help. But the truth was, the idea of being in a car with Jake felt a hell of a lot safer—and less awkward—than riding home with a stranger.

“Alright,” you relented, sighing. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit I like you or something, I’m going to be really annoyed.”

Jake grinned, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home before you overthink this to death.”

The drive home was quiet at first, Jake’s truck rumbling softly as it cut through the stillness of the night. You leaned back in the passenger seat, the cool air from the open window doing wonders to clear your head. Jake glanced at you occasionally, his hands loose on the wheel but his focus unwavering.

“You gonna tell me what that was all about back there?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, your brows furrowing. “What what was all about?”

“Natasha and the girls,” he clarified. “Trying to set you up like it’s a speed dating event.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat. “Oh, that. Yeah, I don’t know what got into them. They’re convinced I’ve been single for too long.”

Jake smirked. “And what? You just let them keep at it?”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you said with a laugh. “Trust me, I tried shutting it down, but Nat can be very persuasive. Plus, I think she roped in some of the girlfriends for backup.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking between you and the road. “So... are you looking?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “Looking?”

“For someone,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something else in his tone—curiosity, maybe.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not really,” you admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I’m against the idea, but I’m not actively looking for anyone either. And definitely not the way they’re going about it.”

Jake chuckled, his smile pulling up on one side. “Fair enough.”

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the truck filling the space between you. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “You know, I think Coyote might know a guy on one of the boats—he’s from Kansas or something. Probably got that farmer-cowboy look you’re into.”

You couldn’t help but smile, his attempt at helpfulness both endearing and a little amusing. “That’s sweet, Jake, but I really don’t think I’m looking for a farmer or a cowboy—or anyone, for that matter.”

Jake glanced at you briefly, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Why’d you bring it up, then?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “Just thought you might like to know your options.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, your smile lingering. “But I think I’m okay with where I am right now. I'll find someone eventually.”

Jake nodded, the conversation settling into a comfortable lull as he turned onto your street.

The glow of the streetlights flickered against the windows of Jake’s truck as he slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your phone buzzing against your thigh just as you reached for the door handle.

Pulling it out, you glanced at the screen. A message from your roommate lit up the display: Just a heads-up—I’ve got company tonight. Might want to keep the earbuds handy 😉

You groaned audibly, letting your head fall back against the seat with a dramatic thud.

Jake shot you a curious glance, his brow lifting. “What’s wrong?”

You waved your phone in his direction with a weary sigh. “Roommate’s got a guy over. And from the sound of it, I’m going to need noise-canceling headphones or a place to sleep that isn’t directly next to her room.”

Jake chuckled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Sounds like it’s going to be a rough night for you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, reaching for the door again.

Before you could hop out, Jake’s voice stopped you. “You don’t have to go in, you know.”

You turned to him, your hand frozen on the handle. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze soft but steady as it met yours. “I mean, if you don’t feel like dealing with... that,” he gestured vaguely toward your phone, “you can come crash at my place. It’s quiet, and I’ve got a couch you can take over if you’re not ready to head home yet.”

You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your phone. Spending more time with Jake wasn’t exactly going to help your unspoken crush, but the alternative—trying to sleep through your roommate’s extracurricular activities—was far less appealing.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with doubt. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”

Jake rolled his eyes, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “You wouldn’t be. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through that?”

The word friend grounded you, loosening the knot of uncertainty in your chest. You smiled softly, nodding your agreement. “Alright, Seresin. But if you don’t have coffee in the morning, I’m going to rethink our so-called friendship.”

Jake laughed, the sound warm and low as he shifted the truck back into drive. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll even make you breakfast if you’re lucky.”

Jake unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped aside to let you in first. The place was clean but lived-in—soft lighting, a comfortable couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and just a few hints of his personality scattered throughout: a Navy ball cap tossed on the entryway table, framed photos of his family, and what looked like a pair of cowboy boots sitting by the door.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, flicking on the lights and heading toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

You nodded, shrugging off your jacket and folding it over the back of a chair before settling onto the couch. “Thanks, Jake.”

He returned a moment later, two beers in hand. Passing one to you, he dropped onto the couch beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. You took a sip, the cold drink soothing against the warmth still lingering on your cheeks from the night’s events.

Jake leaned back, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch. “So,” he started, his tone playful, “what was that whole ‘tall, hot, in a Stetson’ thing earlier really about? Got a cowboy crush I don’t know about?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s just a preference.”

He tilted his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because it kind of sounded like you were describing someone I know.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Tall? Blonde? Hot? I mean, you might as well have just said my name.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself, Seresin.”

Jake’s gaze flicked to your face, his sharp eyes catching the faint blush blooming across your cheeks. His grin softened into something more thoughtful. “Wait a second,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not,” you said quickly, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, you definitely are,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “Tell me—do you have a little crush on me?”

You scoffed, your heart racing as you tried to deflect. “What are we, in middle school?”

Jake chuckled, but his expression didn’t shift. He studied you for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something quieter, more serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could come up with a denial, Jake leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing. His lips hovered close to yours, close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting against your skin.

“Jake,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest, “what are you doing?”

His eyes locked with yours, intense and unwavering. “I’m kissing you,” he said, his voice low and steady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Unless you tell me to stop.”

“Jake…we…we can’t.”

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “one kiss probably won’t ruin the friendship, right?”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you sat there, frozen as the space between you vanished. When his lips finally touched yours, it was soft at first—almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind.

But you didn’t.

Jake’s hand came up, his fingers brushing along your jaw before cupping your face. His touch was firm yet gentle, anchoring you in place as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours, confident and unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment and was determined to savor every second of it.

Your hand found its way to his chest, the firm muscle beneath his shirt making your pulse race even faster. You felt him exhale, a soft, pleased sound escaping him as your fingers curled into the fabric. Without even thinking, you shifted closer, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated.

Jake pulled back for the briefest moment, just enough to catch his breath, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with something that made your stomach flip.

“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his Texas drawl thicker than usual.

You didn’t give yourself time to overthink it. Fueled by a mixture of nerves and adrenaline, you swung a leg over his, settling yourself onto his lap. Jake froze for half a heartbeat before his hands found your waist, his grip firm and grounding.

You reached up, your fingers threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you leaned in and kissed him again. Jake groaned softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss turned fervent, all soft restraint melting away as your bodies pressed together. Jake’s lips were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he tilted his head, deepening the kiss further. Your fingers fisted in his hair, his skin warm beneath your touch as his hands began to roam, sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you securely in his lap.

Your heart was racing, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. Every brush of his lips, every press of his hands against you, made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, Jake’s forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. His hands stayed on your hips, his thumbs brushing idly against the fabric of your shirt.

You then reached down and started to tug at the hem of your shirt, but he reach out and caught your wrists, halting you.

“Whoa, hold up,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You pulled back slightly, confused, your gaze searching his. His hands stayed on your wrists, gentle but unyielding.

“What?” you asked, blinking at him as your pulse raced.

Jake’s lips twitched into a small smile, but his expression was serious. “I’m not doing this. Not yet.”

You frowned, sitting back on his lap, your legs still straddling him. “You’re not doing what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I want to buy you dinner first.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Dinner? Like a date?”

Jake nodded, his hands resting lightly on your hips now.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, you couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that escaped you. “Jake, you don’t do dates. Or dinners. Or follow any kind of rules when it comes to sleeping with women. What’s changed.”

Jake chuckled, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made your stomach flutter. “You’re not just some hookup for me,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I want to do this right with you.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. You weren’t used to seeing Jake like this—so earnest, so serious. The guy who flirted shamelessly, who rarely stuck around for more than a night, was now telling you he wanted to take you on a proper date before anything happened between you.

“You know,” you said after a beat, your tone teasing but your heart pounding, “you did technically buy me a round earlier at the bar.”

Jake shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Nice try, darlin’. A beer doesn’t count as dinner.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms over your chest. “Jake, it’s late. It’s literally Christmas Eve. Nowhere that you would deem worthy of our first date is going to be open.”

Jake laughed, his hands still resting on your hips. “Guess we’ll have to wait then.”

“Or,” you said, sitting up straighter, an idea forming in your mind, “you can give me your phone.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” you said, holding out your hand.

He hesitated for a moment before sighing and reaching into his pocket to hand it over. You unlocked the screen, your fingers moving quickly as you opened the Uber Eats app.

Jake leaned forward slightly, peering over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Ordering dinner,” you said simply, scrolling through the options for one of the few places still open this late on Christmas Eve.

Jake watched as you added something to the cart, then handed the phone back to him. “Go ahead, pick something for yourself.”

Still looking slightly bewildered, Jake glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing as he scanned the menu. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, smirking at him.

Jake sighed, clearly still confused, but he added an item to the order and placed it. As soon as the confirmation screen popped up, he turned to you, shaking his head. “All right, now you’ve got to tell me—what was the point of all that?”

You grinned, leaning forward slightly so your face was inches from his. “Because now you’ve technically bought me dinner,” you said, your tone teasing but your eyes locked on his.

Jake stared at you for a moment, then threw his head back with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “But now that you’ve fulfilled your ‘dinner first’ rule, are you going to fuck me or not?”

Jake’s laughter died down, replaced by a look that made your stomach flip. His hands tightened slightly on your hips as his gaze darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “But if we’re doing this, darlin’, we’re doing it my way.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. “Your way, huh?” you teased, the corner of your lips quirking up. “And what exactly does your way mean?”

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hands tightened on your hips, and before you could even process what was happening, he stood up with you still straddling his lap.

“Jake!” you yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance as he stood effortlessly, holding you against him like you weighed nothing.

He grinned down at you, completely unfazed by your reaction, and started walking down the hallway. “First rule,” he drawled, his voice low and steady, “your first time with me is not going to be on my couch.”

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as his words sank in. “Oh,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he carried you with ease, the hallway narrowing around you. “You deserve better than that, darlin’,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “So, my way means I’m going to take my time with you. Do it right, starting with getting you on a bed.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was enough to leave you breathless.

When he reached the door at the end of the hall, Jake shifted you slightly in his arms so he could turn the handle, nudging the door open with his foot. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the space.

Jake stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with a soft thud. He finally set you down, your feet touching the plush carpet, but his hands didn’t leave your waist.

You glanced around, your nerves and excitement battling for dominance. “So…what’s the second rule?” you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as your voice wavered.

Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned down, his face so close to yours that his breath fanned across your skin.

“The second rule,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “is that I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.”

Your breath hitched, your hands sliding up his chest almost instinctively. “That’s…a pretty good rule,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smirk widened as his hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Good,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes dark with intent. “Because I don’t break my own rules.”

With that, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the heated kisses you’d shared earlier. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm but careful, like he was savoring every moment.

You melted into him, your arms looping around his neck as the kiss deepened. His tongue slid against yours, drawing a soft whimper from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. But instead of rushing to remove it quickly, he took his time, his touch reverent as he pushed the fabric up inch by inch.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, your breath coming in soft pants as you let him pull your shirt over your head. His gaze raked over you, his eyes darkening as he took you in.

“Goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice husky. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you closer.

Jake’s lips broke away from yours, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Slowly, he trailed his kisses along your jaw, the gentle scrape of his stubble sending shivers down your spine. His lips moved lower, finding the sensitive curve of your neck.

At first, the kisses were light, teasing. But then he began sucking and biting softly, testing different spots until he hit the one that made your head fall back with a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in the hair at the nape of his neck.

The sound you made—the small, unrestrained moan that escaped your lips—had Jake pausing for the briefest moment before he let out a low groan of his own, his mouth returning to the same spot with renewed focus. This time, he nipped a little harder, drawing another reaction out of you.

“Jake,” you warned softly, your breath hitching as you tugged at his hair. “Don’t leave a mark.”

You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your neck.

“Why not?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his teeth grazed your skin. Before you could answer, he added in a quiet whisper, “I kinda like the idea of everyone knowing you’re my girl.”

That pulled your head up, and you gave him a look, arching a brow. “Your girl, huh?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat, his green eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in close, his lips brushing just below your ear. “My girl,” he repeated, his voice filled with a confidence that made your heart race.

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was back on your skin, moving lower this time. He kissed along your collarbone, his lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

When he reached the strap of your bra, his fingers deftly reached around your back. With a practiced ease that had you smirking slightly, he unclasped it. He pulled back just enough to slide the straps down your arms, his hands warm and firm against your skin as he discarded the lacey fabric to the floor.

Jake’s gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as his eyes roamed over you. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression somewhere between awe and hunger. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.

“This is what you wore to the bar?” he asked, his voice playful but edged with disbelief.

You blushed, rolling your eyes even as you smiled. “It’s laundry day,” you mumbled. “All the comfy stuff was in the wash.”

Jake chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides to rest just below your chest. “Laundry day, huh?”

“Yes, why? Do you have a problem with my choice of undergarments?”

“Not exactly,” he teased, his grin widening. “But that…is way too sexy for just a casual night out with friends.”

His thumb brushed just below the curve of your breast, sending a spark of warmth straight through you.

You rolled your eyes again, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “It’s just a bra, Jake,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly.

He didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he leaned forward, his mouth finding the soft skin of your chest. His lips were warm and gentle, kissing along the swell of your breast before his tongue flicked against your skin.

Your breath hitched, and Jake’s hands shifted to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his lips and tongue working in tandem to explore every inch. When he finally reached your nipple, his mouth closed around it, drawing a soft moan from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands tightened on your hips as his other hand slid up, cupping your other breast and giving it the same attention. Jake groaned softly against your skin, clearly enjoying himself, and the sound sent a shiver through you.

Jake pulled back for a moment, just enough to glance up at you with a wicked grin. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he teased, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t know you were hiding these under all those sweaters and jackets.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair. “Shut up, Jake,” you muttered, pulling him back to you.

He laughed softly but didn’t argue, his mouth returning to your chest with renewed enthusiasm. Jake Seresin might have had a reputation for being cocky and playful, but in this moment, he was focused, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Jake's lips were still warm against your skin, his tongue flicking over the same sensitive spot on your chest that had you squirming against him, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You realized how uneven the situation was—your bra was already on the floor, and yet here he was, still fully dressed.

Not one to let such an imbalance slide, you tugged at the hem of his shirt. Jake pulled back, his green eyes flicking to yours in question, his mouth curving into a smug smile when he caught on.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, simply giving the fabric another tug. Jake let out a quiet laugh, sitting up slightly so he could pull the shirt over his head. The movement was so fluid, so effortless, that it was almost infuriating. And when he tossed the shirt aside, your mouth went dry.

Your eyes trailed over him slowly, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the defined lines of his abs, and the way his skin seemed to glow under the dim light of his apartment. You’d known Jake Seresin was fit—anyone could tell just by looking at him—but this? This was something else entirely.

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding over the hard planes of his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips making your pulse race. You traced the subtle curve of his muscles, your thumb brushing over a faint scar just below his collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

Jake caught the sound, his brow lifting as he smirked. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

You shook your head, trying to find the words but failing. Instead, you blurted, “You’re not real.”

That caught him off guard, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Not real, huh?”

You gestured vaguely at him, your hands hovering just above his abs. “Nobody looks like this in real life. I mean… how? Do you, like, live in the gym or something?”

Jake laughed again, clearly amused by your reaction. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your thighs as he regarded you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “It’s all just good genetics, sweetheart,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “But if you wanna keep admiring, don’t let me stop you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Cocky,” you muttered, though your hands betrayed you by continuing their exploration, tracing the ridges of his muscles like you were committing them to memory.

“Confident,” Jake corrected, leaning forward again so that his face was just inches from yours. “And besides…” His lips brushed lightly against your jaw, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’re not exactly keeping your hands to yourself, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your blush deepening as his teasing smirk only grew wider. His confidence was maddening, but it also sent a rush of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore. Finally, you huffed and muttered, “You talk too much.”

Jake tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more mischievous. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Without missing a beat, you leaned in close, your breath brushing against his lips as you whispered, “Shut up and kiss me, Seresin.”

His eyes darkened at your words, the playful light in them replaced with something deeper, hungrier. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

His hand at your neck tilted your head just enough to deepen the kiss, while his other hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of his head. When he nipped at your bottom lip, your soft gasp gave him the perfect opening, and his tongue swept into your mouth, stealing whatever clever retort you might have had.

Jake broke the kiss just long enough to guide you backward. His strong hands shifted to your hips as he maneuvered you gently, lowering you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. His lips found yours again before your head even hit the pillow, his body following as he braced himself over you, one forearm resting beside your head while his other hand remained at your waist.

The bed dipped slightly under your combined weight, and you felt the cool sheets against your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you and Jake. His kisses grew slower, deeper, his mouth moving over yours in a way that made your toes curl. His free hand slid up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it found your cheek, tilting your face toward his for better access.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—all you could do was feel. The warmth of his body, the intoxicating way he kissed you, the steady weight of him pressing you into the mattress—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Jake finally pulled back, just enough to look down at you, his lips red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His gaze was molten as it roamed over your face, lingering on your kiss-bruised lips before meeting your eyes.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, and his lips quirked into a softer, almost reverent smile. “You know that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the sincerity in his expression taking your breath away all over again. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a whisper. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Jake’s lips hovered above yours, his breath warm against your skin, but his hands began to move, dragging your focus away from the way his mouth made you feel and to the steady path his fingers were tracing. They slid down your sides with a deliberate slowness, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hips before they stopped at the waistband of your jeans.

He shifted back just slightly, his hands working to pop the button open and tug the zipper down. His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the spark of mischief in them sent a jolt of anticipation straight through you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he asked, and he made quick work of guiding your jeans down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that left goosebumps in their wake. The denim hit the floor, and Jake’s gaze swept over you, lingering when he noticed the lacy underwear that matched the bra he’d already discarded.

A slow smirk spread across his face, the kind that made your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. “Now this,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature cockiness, “is a sight I could get used to.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, and with one smooth motion, he slid them down your legs and discarded them on the floor beside your jeans. His hands returned to your thighs, his touch featherlight as he traced patterns over your skin.

“From now on,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, “you only wear these for me. Got it?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the sheer audacity of the man in front of you. “And what makes you think this will be more than a one-time thing,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Jake didn’t even blink at your question. Instead, he leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his knees as his hands slid higher up your thighs. “Because you don’t do casual,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. His hands stilled just shy of where you wanted them, his thumbs brushing agonizingly close to the heat pooling between your legs. “You don’t do one-night hookups.”

His words were confident, but then that cocky grin returned, and he leaned down just enough that his lips hovered above your skin. His thumb trailed teasingly over your inner thigh, not quite touching you where you needed him most, and it was maddening.

“And because,” he continued, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already trying to get more.” His thumb brushed a little closer this time, still not quite enough, and the sharp intake of breath you let out didn’t escape his notice.

Your hips tilted up instinctively, desperate for more contact, but Jake pulled his hand back just slightly, his grin widening as he caught your movement.

“See what I mean?” he teased, his voice dripping with that infuriating self-assurance. “One night’s not gonna be enough for you, sweetheart. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”

Jake’s smirk deepened as he continued his slow, agonizing teasing, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you needed him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he drawled, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your hip. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Your head fell back against the pillows, a frustrated groan slipping from your lips. You felt like you were about to combust, every nerve ending on fire as Jake toyed with you like it was some kind of game. The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Jake,” you started, your voice laced with exasperation as you lifted your head to glare at him. “I swear to God—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his fingers finally moved, pressing against you in just the right spot. The sudden surge of pleasure ripped the words right from your throat, replacing them with a sharp, breathy moan that had Jake’s grin widening in satisfaction.

“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice low and smug as his fingers began working in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing another soft sound from your lips. “Knew you’d sound pretty, but damn, sweetheart, I didn’t think you’d sound this good.”

Your hands fisted the sheets beside you, your back arching slightly off the bed as the pressure built, wave after wave crashing over you with every precise movement of his hand. “Jake…” His name came out like a plea, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”

His free hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing along your ribs in a soothing gesture that contrasted sharply with the fire he was setting off with every calculated touch. Your hips tilted toward him, desperate for more, and Jake was quick to oblige, his fingers pressing harder, moving faster, drawing out the kind of pleasure that had your head spinning and your thoughts unraveling.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jake shifted slightly, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was every bit as intoxicating as the way his hands worked your body. It was messy and consuming, his tongue brushing against yours in a rhythm that matched the movements of his fingers, as if he was determined to pull every last sound from your lips.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers gripping his biceps for support. He didn’t stop, though, his lips trailing down your jaw, over your neck, and back to the spot on your collarbone that had you shivering.

“You doing okay there, sweetheart?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin as he chuckled softly. “Seem a little… speechless.”

Jake’s fingers slowed just enough to pull you back from the edge, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were at your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “Have you ever thought about this before? About me? About my hands on you like this?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could feel your face heat, your body betraying you as a rush of arousal coursed through you. Of course, you’d thought about it. You’d thought about it far more times than you cared to admit, in moments you’d never expected and in ways that had left you wondering what it would feel like to have Jake Seresin in this exact position.

But you weren’t about to tell him that.

“No,” you managed to say, though the breathiness of your voice betrayed your attempt at indifference.

Jake chuckled low, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed a kiss just below your ear. His fingers started moving again, slow and deliberate, building that fire inside you all over again. “Liar,” he whispered, his tone dripping with confidence.

Your breath hitched as his hand worked you over with maddening precision, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think you’ve thought about this a lot,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent, like a secret he was unraveling. “About me touching you like this. About me kissing you. About me making you fall apart.”

Your hips bucked against his hand involuntarily, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips. Jake’s smirk was audible in his next words. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“Jake…” you warned, though the word lacked any real heat, your voice shaking as he pushed you closer to the edge again.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice still low and intimate, as if the moment was just for the two of you. “Tell me the truth. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but your body told a different story, arching into his touch, chasing the release he kept pulling just out of reach.

“Still not talking, huh?” he teased, his lips ghosting over your neck. “That’s okay. I think I already know the answer.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillow as Jake’s fingers slowed again, denying you the release you so desperately craved.

“Jake, I swear to God—”

“Say the word,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “Say you want this. Say you want me.”

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the teasing rhythm of his fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the denial of release driving you mad.

“Fine,” you blurted out, your voice a mix of desperation and surrender. “I’ve thought about it. About you. Happy now?”

Jake froze for a moment, his smirk widening as he absorbed your confession, his ego clearly basking in your words. “Damn right I am,” he drawled, his tone as smug as ever. His fingers picked up their pace again, but this time with a newfound determination, his touch deliberate and calculated as he pushed you closer to the edge once more.

“Have you thought about my hands doing this?” he murmured, shifting his hand ever so slightly, his movements slow and precise as he watched your reaction.

Your body arched involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping your lips. You couldn’t lie even if you wanted to.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued. “Or maybe this?” He changed the angle of his touch again, his fingers finding just the right spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Jake,” you panted, your voice trembling with need, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he pressed, his tone both teasing and possessive.

“How many nights have you thought about this? About me making you feel this good?”

You let out a whimper, the pressure inside you building to an unbearable intensity. “Please, Jake,” you finally begged, your voice cracking as you tilted your hips toward his hand, desperate for the release he was holding just out of reach.

“Please, what?” he whispered, his voice dark and enticing.

“Please, just—”

Before you could finish, he gave you exactly what you needed, his fingers working you over with perfect precision, sending you hurtling over the edge. A cry tore from your lips as the tension snapped, your body trembling under the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

Jake didn’t stop, his hand staying steady as he guided you through your release, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced with something more intimate, more sincere. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Your hands clutched at him as you rode out the high, your breathing ragged and uneven as he slowed his movements, easing you back down. His free hand caressed your side, grounding you as you came back to yourself.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

As the intensity slowly ebbed away, you opened your eyes to find Jake watching you. The cocky smirk you'd expected wasn’t there—instead, he was looking at you with something softer, something that made your chest tighten. His hand brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering for just a moment before pulling back. He gave you a small, almost shy smile, one that you’d never seen before.

“What?” you asked nervously, returning the smile as your heart pounded for an entirely different reason now.

Jake shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into something more tender than teasing. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You blinked at him, caught completely off guard. He wasn’t grinning or smirking or full of his usual bravado—he was just Jake, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you didn’t know what to say. “Oh,” you whispered, your voice soft as his words settled over you.

The moment stretched between you, and for the first time, Jake looked away, almost as if realizing how vulnerable he’d made himself. But instead of pulling back, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.

“Let’s get you some water,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. But as he moved to stand, his fingers brushed yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter all over again.

And at that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just some casual hookup with him. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but it was more.

Jake disappeared into the walk in closet, leaving you alone in his bedroom for a moment. When he returned, he had one of his shirts in hand—soft, worn, and smelling distinctly like him. He tossed it to you with a crooked smile.

“Figured you’d be more comfortable in this,” he said before turning toward the door, giving you a bit of privacy to change.

Once you slipped into the oversized shirt, you padded out to find him in the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to you as you approached.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a long sip.

Jake nodded toward the couch. “Come on. Sit with me.”

You followed him over, sinking into the cushion next to him, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. Jake glanced at the gap and raised an eyebrow, smirking just slightly.

“You scared of me now or something?” he teased, his voice soft but warm.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could come up with a response, Jake reached over and tugged gently at your hand, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he said, his tone so inviting you didn’t think to resist.

You shifted over until your thigh brushed against his, and Jake draped an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. He didn’t push for more, didn’t try to crowd you—he just held you there, close enough to feel his warmth.

“You good?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, leaning slightly into him. “Yeah. I’m good.”

For a while, neither of you said anything. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the couch as you both shifted to get more comfortable. Eventually, you rested your head against Jake’s shoulder, and you could feel him relax beneath you, the tension in his body melting away.

This—whatever this was—felt easy. And for now, you were content to let it be.

The silence between you settled into something soft, the kind of quiet where you could hear your own thoughts but didn’t mind sharing the space with someone else. Jake absentmindedly brushed his fingers along your arm, his touch light, comforting.

But then the thought hit you, and you started to feel a twinge of guilt. Jake had gone out of his way to make sure you felt incredible, but you hadn’t done the same for him. The realization sat heavily in your chest, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you shifted slightly, sitting up to look at him.

"Hey," you said, your voice quieter than you expected.

Jake tilted his head toward you, the corners of his lips quirking up. "What’s on your mind, darlin’?"

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip for a second. "I just... I feel bad. You—you got me to, you know, but I didn’t—"

Jake’s low laugh cut you off, his head tipping back for a moment before he looked at you again, his eyes warm and amused. "You feel bad about that?"

"Well... yeah," you admitted, your cheeks heating. You glanced away, feeling the awkwardness creep in. "I mean, do you... want me to...?" You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze.

Jake reached over and gently tipped your chin up so you had to look at him. His expression wasn’t teasing this time, but soft, almost tender.

"I don’t need you to do anything," he said, his voice steady. "Tonight was about you. I wanted to make sure you felt good. That’s enough for me."

You blinked, a little thrown by how sincere he sounded. "Really?"

He nodded, leaning back and letting his arm settle across your shoulders again. "Really," he said, the hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. "But I appreciate the offer. Makes me feel pretty special."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," he quipped, his grin widening as you shook your head and settled back against his shoulder.

The room fell into a quiet lull, the kind that was filled with comfort rather than awkwardness. Jake’s arm rested across your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing circles along your arm. You let your head rest against him, but the words you’d been mulling over stuck in your throat.

Finally, you worked up the courage to look up at him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. "Jake?"

"Hmm?" He turned his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours.

"Can I..." You paused, nervousness creeping in, but you pushed forward. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Jake’s grin spread across his face almost immediately, cocky but somehow still sweet. "Where else would you sleep?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of his gaze. "I don’t know. The couch maybe..."

Before you could finish the thought, Jake leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm, pulling you right back into the ease of being with him. When he pulled away, his grin had softened into something tender, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"You can sleep with me every night," he murmured, his fingers brushing another stray piece of hair from your face.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you just smiled, leaning into him as his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, the thought of waking up next to Jake every morning didn’t feel so crazy after all.

* * * *

The morning light streamed through the blinds, coaxing you awake. Your head throbbed faintly—a mild reminder of the last beer you probably shouldn’t have had. Blinking against the sunlight, you looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn’t your apartment.

And then it all came back. Last night. Jake bringing you home. The teasing, the kissing, the way he had pulled you close and told you that you could sleep with him every night. The memories brought a mix of warmth and guilt as you realized just how many lines of friendship you had crossed in a single evening.

Sitting up, you glanced over at the other side of the bed, half expecting Jake to still be there. But his side was empty, the covers slightly rumpled. You pushed them off and padded out of the bedroom, your bare feet cold against the hardwood.

As you stepped into the living room, you froze in place, utterly speechless at the sight before you.

Jake was lying on the floor, one arm propped up to support his head, his body stretched out lazily. He was barefoot, in jeans that fit a little too well, no shirt, and a Stetson cowboy hat perched on his head.

Your mouth opened, then closed, your brain short-circuiting. You weren’t sure whether to laugh, blush, or scold him for how ridiculous he looked—and how ridiculously good he looked at the same time.

“What,” you finally managed, “are you doing?”

Jake’s lips curved into that signature smirk of his, the one that always got him into trouble and, apparently, you as well. “What does it look like? Tall, hot, in a Stetson. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your jaw dropped as you remembered your flippant comment from the night before, and a laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it. “Are you serious right now?”

He stood up in one smooth motion, the hat still perfectly in place as he strolled toward you. “I’m Texan, darlin’. Born and raised. Owning a Stetson is a right of passage.”

You shook your head, laughing harder now as he stopped in front of you. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned down, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ridiculous enough to make you laugh this hard first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah, well…” You tried to form a witty comeback, but the way he was looking at you—half playful, half something much softer—made your words catch in your throat.

Jake’s smirk softened into a smile as he tilted his head closer. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, before leaning in to kiss you.

And just like that, the absurdity of the morning melted away, leaving only the feel of his lips on yours and the flutter in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name.

Jake’s hands slid to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, and you swore you felt his smirk against your mouth when your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance.

Without breaking the kiss, Jake’s fingers tightened slightly on your hips, and he murmured, “Jump.”

You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he asked. His hands were steady as they guided you, and your legs wrapped around his waist naturally. He held you effortlessly, the warmth of his skin against your thighs making your breath hitch.

“You’re way too good at this,” you whispered against his lips, your voice teasing but a little breathless.

Jake pulled back just enough to flash you that cocky grin you knew all too well. “Darlin’, I was born good at this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. Then, just like that, he was moving, carrying you down the hallway as though you weighed nothing.

The hat was still perched on his head, slightly tilted from your movements, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You’re seriously keeping the hat on?”

He glanced at you with a raised brow, that grin still firmly in place. “You said tall, hot, in a Stetson. I’m just giving the lady what she wants.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but your words were swallowed by another kiss as he carried you into the bedroom.

Jake lowered you onto the bed with care, the playful edge giving way to something more deliberate, more intense, as he hovered over you. His green eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the room felt still, the air between you charged with something electric.

“Guess that makes me your cowboy now,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity there that made your chest tighten.

And before you could respond, his lips were back on yours, and nothing else mattered.

Jake kissed you with a hunger that sent a spark straight through you. His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his palms setting fire to your skin as he pressed you into the mattress. The Stetson, still sitting askew on his head, was the perfect blend of ridiculous and sexy, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing softly against his lips.

“What’s so funny, darlin’?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

You reached up, plucking the hat off his head, and twirled it in your fingers with a smirk. “Just trying to decide if this thing makes you hotter… or if it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jake chuckled, pulling back slightly, his weight still braced above you. “Go on then, put it on. Let’s see if you can pull it off.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully, accepting the challenge. Sliding the Stetson onto your head, you tilted it just slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “How do I look?”

Jake’s gaze darkened instantly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Like trouble,” he drawled.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Emboldened by the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted—you took a deep breath and gave his chest a small push. Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he rolled to his back without protest, his hands guiding you along with him until you were straddling his hips.

His smirk grew as he settled beneath you, his hands resting on your waist. “This what you had in mind?” he asked, his tone a teasing challenge.

You didn’t give him time to comment further before you rolled your hips slowly, teasing him. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt that you had slept in and quickly slid it off, leaving you completely bare. You reach for the hat that had been knocked off and carefully placed it back on your head.

Jake groaned, his head falling back for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’.”

“Am I?” you teased, leaning forward just enough that the brim of the hat shadowed your face, leaving him staring up at you like you’d stolen all the air from his lungs.

Jake’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs as he guided your movements. “You’re wearin’ nothin’ but my hat and lookin’ like that,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged.

You laughed softly, but your amusement quickly faded as the heat between you grew. The way his hands moved over you—possessive yet gentle—was making it impossible to keep the pace slow.

As you shifted and leaned forward again, Jake reached up, tipping the brim of the hat slightly. “You’re somethin’ else,” he said softly, his green eyes locked on yours.

For once, the cockiness was gone from his voice, replaced with a raw honesty that left you breathless. You didn’t respond, couldn’t, as you captured his lips again and let the heat between you consume every other thought.

The heat between your bodies was electric, every touch and movement sending sparks skittering across your skin. You shifted slightly, lifting your hips just enough to position yourself over him. Jake’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively gripped your thighs, steadying you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Your eyes locked with his, and the teasing glint in his green gaze had softened into something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he let his hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his palms grounding you as you slowly sank down onto him.

A shuddered groan escaped Jake’s lips, and you couldn’t hold back the small gasp that left yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just physical—it was the way he looked at you, like you were something precious, something he wanted to memorize with every touch.

Jake sat up slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as your breaths mingled. For a moment, neither of you moved. The intimacy of it, the closeness, was almost too much to bear. His thumbs traced small circles against your skin, grounding you in the moment.

When you finally began to move, it was slow, deliberate, like the two of you were trying to savor every second. Jake’s lips found yours, and the kiss was anything but hurried. It was deep, consuming, a perfect match to the rhythm you’d set. His hands explored your back, your sides, your hips, mapping every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.

As the pace quickened, so did the intensity. Jake’s lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver racing through you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you tipped your head back, surrendering completely to the moment.

His grip on your waist tightened, and his lips found the hollow of your throat. Every movement between you spoke louder than words ever could—the way his hands caressed you, the way your body arched into his, the way his lips lingered on your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, and you could feel it in the way he held you. He wasn’t just here for now—he was here for you, wholly and completely. And though neither of you spoke, the weight of that realization settled between you, amplifying the passion that had consumed you both.

As the rhythm between you grew more urgent, Jake leaned back, letting his head hit the pillow as his hands guided your hips. His eyes were locked on you, full of heat and awe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your gaze softened as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The way he looked at you, touched you, kissed you—it was like he was unraveling every fear you’d ever had about being vulnerable, about letting someone in.

When the moment finally crested, your head fell forward, your lips finding the crook of his neck as he held you close, his hands splayed against your back to steady you. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, neither of you willing to pull away.

Jake’s fingers brushed over your spine, his touch gentle as your breathing began to slow. He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your temple, and you felt the tension in his body ease as he cradled you against him.

No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Everything you felt, everything he felt—it was all there, in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him, unwilling to let the moment end.

The silence in the room was peaceful, broken only by the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Jake’s hand skimmed lazily along your back, his touch soothing and warm as you rested against his chest. For a moment, you both just lay there, content in the afterglow of everything that had passed between you.

But of course, Jake couldn’t let the moment stay quiet for too long. His fingers danced lightly along your spine, and you felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle.

“So,” he drawled, his tone laced with that familiar cocky edge, “was it everything you imagined it would be? Or do you need another round for comparison purposes?”

You let out a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at him. His grin was downright smug, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even as your lips tugged into a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered for what felt like the tenth time since you arrived at Jake's place last night, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Jake smirked, clearly unbothered by your comment. “Ridiculous, maybe, but you like it.”

“Debatable,” you teased, your tone light and playful as you reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

His grin only widened, and he gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, I don’t blame you for falling for the whole ‘hot guy in a Stetson’ thing. Happens to the best of ‘em.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, maybe,” Jake said, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours. “But I think you like me anyway.”

You wanted to argue, to fire back some witty retort, but the softness in his gaze stopped you short. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin as he smiled at you—not his usual cocky grin, but something quieter, more genuine.

“I mean it,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before. “You’re…amazing.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you dropped your eyes, suddenly shy. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Jake chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Not so bad, huh? I’ll take it.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy as you settled back against him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence.

As your eyes began to drift closed, you felt Jake press a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft and warm as he murmured, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything might just be exactly as it should be.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Jake Seresin Smut #Jake Hangman Seresin Smut #Jake Seresin x Reader Smut

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simpjaes · 9 hours ago

Text

✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed. or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute.

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24

⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.

PREVIEW (3.1k):

no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined.

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going.

It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people.

Do things without you clinging to him all the time.

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so.

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror.

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now.

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face.

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you.

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice.

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned.

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.”

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life.

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need.

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number.

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead.

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.”

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college.

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time.

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days.

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course.

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.”

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges.

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak.

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest.

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated.

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes.

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.”

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it.

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?”

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value.

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.”

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now.

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester.

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay.

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.”

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm.

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore.

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm.

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up.

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college.

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…”

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top.

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles.

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away.

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.”

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does.

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame.

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake.

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo. But looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent?

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father.

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.

Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood.

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #wips

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cryingpariah · 18 hours ago

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Gotta love tag games lol!

Pets: currently none but I really want either a cat or a snake, I haven’t decided yet :p

Comfort food: something warm and hearty, like lasagna or rice with big chunks of meat. If I’m not almost uncomfortably full and licking my plate and utensils clean it’s not comforty enough 🤤🤤

Languages: Mostly English but I know enough Somali to actively forget the English equivalent to a good chunk of words (the amount of times I’ve forgotten the word stovetop is simply ridiculous.)

Random fact: Had a horrible bully in junior high and one day my family ended up at her family's restaurant and she was our waitress. Top ten most awkward meals of my life

Something I’m proud of: I've always gotten high praise on my creative writing and was published (with highlights!) in my high schools literary journal!

If you see this you are now legally obligated to join in (if you want to 🫶🏾)

Tag game because I want to know you better !

-Do you have a pet ?

-Comfort food ?

-How many languages do you speak ?

- Random fact about yourself

-Something you’re proud of

To begin this little tag game, I’ll tag @ebony-reine-vibes @freddie-77-ao3 @newobsessioneveryweek @thehaikuman and @miraclesnail

I hope the questions aren’t boring and love you all 😘

#tag games #tag game

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jhdyuiee · 2 days ago

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ocean-side

·˚ ༘ pairing: dad! jaehyun x mom!reader

·˚ ༘ warnings/tags: fluff, smut!, oral(f receiving), breeding kink (?), kissing/making out, explicit content!, dirty talk, cursing

·˚ ༘ w.c: 4.2k

·˚ ༘ a.n: hi! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? well i apologize for the abrupt break, november was just a lot, both good and bad, but it’s safe to say i’m back! thank u for waiting, i’m truly sorry having been gone for so long :/ . i promise to be back for the remaining days of the year as i’ve got a lot in store, hehe. thank u for ur continued love and support, i’m just so glad to finally be back doing what i love! i love you all & enjoy this one as it was voted by many! <3

“Here’s a good spot,” your husband says, dropping the large bag that slung on his shoulder, onto the sand as he begins looking for the blanket you made sure to pack.

You all the while hold your sleeping 7-month old daughter, Sienna, in your arms. Your husband, Jaehyun gets a hold of the blanket and gets Yejun, your 5-year old son to help him set it up. Jaehyun then proceeds to set up the umbrella, placing it at a perfect angle. Once he finished, you sat down along with your daughter.

“Can I go into the water now!?” Yejun asks excitedly. He’s been dying to get to the beach, into the water. It was a spontaneous trip, thought of by Jaehyun, but you all nonetheless packed your bags to go. There was honestly no better day to go, today the weather was at a perfect temperature.

“Put some sunscreen on first love,” you said to your son as you looked for the sunscreen inside the bag. “Ask your daddy to help you,” you say, giving Jaehyun the sunscreen.

Yejun walks to his dad, allowing him to put sunscreen all over him. And when he finishes he asks again, “Can I go into the water now!?”

This time however Jaehyun answers in your stead, “wait a little more bud, I gotta put some on too since someone’s gotta go with you.”

Yejun pouts, the boy just too impatient. Once Jaehyun finishes he gets up, adjusting the black swimming trunks he had on. He grabs ahold of his son before turning to you and his daughter.

“We’ll be back,” he announces before crouching down to peck both you and his daughter.

“Be safe!” you shout out as he leaves with Yejun in hand.

You watch as they step into the ocean side, going only up to Yejun’s chest height. You take your eyes off them, turning them Sienna who was still in your arms. Surprisingly she was still soundly asleep, however strangely enough just then she started furrowing her brows and trying to open her eyes.

“Oh my goodness,” you say lovingly. She was just so adorable, a perfect blend of you and Jaehyun. While on the other hand, Yejun took after his father both looks and personality.

You peck her cheek, setting her to sit on your lap so that she could also look at her father and dad as they played in the water. They were having the time of their lives by the looks of it, splashing water on each other as Yejun tried swimming away, only for Jaehyun to catch him.

It was then that Sienna started blabbering, sticking her arms out and making grabby hands. You could tell what she wanted, to go join her father and brother.

“We’ll go in a bit baby, let mommy take some pictures first before I forget,” you tell her as you take her in your arms again. Sienna is turned the other way, facing you. You place her down, only for her to start crawling before you capture her and sit her back down. It took a couple more tries since she was so curious but you ultimately managed to snap some pictures of her in her cute little beach outfit.

“Now, let me put some sunscreen on us before we go!” you say tenderly as you grab the sunscreen Jaehyun left on the empty spot where he’d sat.

You make sure your baby is well protected, you too as well, before you head out of the little spot where your family resided. As you head to them, Yejun notices first calling out: “Mommy!”

You smile lovingly at your son whose energy was still at its max. When you arrived, you stood in between the sand and where the waves died. Your husband notices, walking over to you as he pushes the hairs out of his face.

“What’s wrong love?” he asks.

“Nothing, Sienna just seemed to have wanted to join you two,” you informed him.

“Alright, come in,” he says, reaching his hand for you but you don’t take it.

“I- I don’t feel like going in,” you tell him.

“Why, love?”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” you lied.

You had one underneath, one that you’ve never worn before. It was quite small on you though, your post-pregnancy body filling it out. Yeah, you had other swimsuits but those fit even worse since they were quite old. You were left with no other option but this one.

In truth, you were planning to go into the waters with it on but seeing the people near the beach made you rather scared and insecure to take off the long, white sundress on top of it.

“Really?” Jaehyun asks, growing a bit skeptical since you were always on top of things.

“Yeah… must’ve slipped my mind while I was focused on getting Sienna ready,” you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Is that so, I guess you can come in next time,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he reaches his arms out so you could hand him Sienna.

“Be extra careful Jae, don’t play too rough with Sienna in there,” you tell your husband, your mother instincts kicking in.

“Don’t worry love, she’s safe with me,” he says before returning back to the ocean where Yejun waited. He seemed to have said something, a wide dimpled smile on his face when he saw his baby sister in the water as well.

You return back to your family’s little spot and sit down. You watched them as they played in the water, Jaehyun carefully and securely carrying his daughter as she hit her hand against the water, splashing her brother. You smile fondly at the scene, feeling as though this was some sweet dream you never want to part from.

As you take your eyes off your family, you reach inside the big bag again, taking out a book you brought along. You read as your family played, and before you knew it the sun was about to set.

You close your book, taking out the towels as you walk back towards them. “Yejun! Jaehyun! Time to start packing up,” you shout at them. Yejun swims his way to you while Jaehyun carries Sienna back.

“Mommy!” Yejun shouts, jumping up and down in front of you. “Yes, my love?” you ask your overly excited 5-year old. “Today was the best day ever!” he continues to say as you dry him off.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you smiled, wrapping him in the towel. When your husband arrived with your baby she made grabby hands so you could take her. You hand your husband his towel and he hands your Sienna. You take the last towel you had and begin drying Sienna off as you all walk back to where your belongings were.

“Want me to take Sienna with me to wash off at the shower heads?” Jaehyun asks. “Yeah, that'd be great, to hold off until we get home.”

Your husband departs with the kids and a small backpack containing a pair of clean clothes for them that you managed to quickly put together. While they were gone you started packing everything up, putting things back into the big bag and folding back up the umbrella and blanket. You took stuff one-by-one back to the car, and by the time you finished they’d also as well.

“Everything packed?” Jaehyun asks, handing you Sienna.

You nod, walking over to where her carseat was while he opened and closed the door for Yejun so he could get into his.

“You didn’t have to do all that love,” Jaehyun says as he walks over to your side while you strapped your daughter in. He places his hands on your waist and pecks your temple.

“I’m hungry,” Yejun interrupts, causing you two to chuckle.

“We'll stop for food before going home, ok Yejun?” Jaehyun says, stepping away from you.

Yejun nods his head happily, and you finish strapping your baby in. Then you and Jaehyun go into your respective seats before driving off for some food.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The front door unlocks, Jaehyun opens it and steps aside to let you and a sleeping Sienna go in. the lights turn on, illuminating your home. You watch as Jaehyun steps in, he too with a sleeping child, Yejun.

“Wake him up so he could clean up with you while I take care of Sienna,” you whispered. Jaehyun nods, trying his best to gently wake up his son who just grumbles, fisting Jaehnyun’s shirt with his small hand.

You on the other hand start heading upstairs to the bathroom in your bedroom as Jaehyun would be using the one connecting Yejun and Sienna room.

You set your baby on the bed while you get everything ready so you could clean her up. It was then when you decided why not go in with her, you’ve had a long day too and a nice bath would solve it.

You took your time, finding the moment spent with your daughter peaceful. And so when you finally finished and dried you two off, putting on her cute bunny pajamas, she fell asleep once more. She must be worn out, you thought.

You carry her back to her room, placing her gently on her crib so she doesn’t wake up. Gently walking, you shut her door softly and walk back to your bedroom. When you arrive you notice Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed.

He looks up when he sees you walking in. You walk towards him, stopping in between his legs. He engulfs you in a hug, his head in your chest and your chin resting on the top of his head. It was nothing sexual, it was warm and peaceful.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, resting his chin on your chest as he tries looking up at you.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling as you lean down to capture his lips.

The kiss didn’t escalate anywhere further, which was a little shocking since you two could never keep your hands off one another. However today in truth was tiring and long, but a beautiful memory.

And so the night ended in bed, his arms around your waist to bring you close to him. It was warm, a warmth that lulled you to sleep.

Bonus!

You’re folding laundry, it’s an oddly peaceful weekend. Probably considering the fact that your children were with their grandparents for the weekend, off to the Orchards. And Jaehyun was somewhere within the house since today was his day off.

“Hey, love do you kno-” Jaehyun says, walking into the bedroom but something catches his eyes and leaves him speechless.

You widened your eyes as the item you were folding: a bikini top. The very same one you wore that day at the beach. Fuck, you internally curse yourself.

“W- When did you wear that?” he questions.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, alternating between lying to him or telling him the truth.

“T- The day we went to the beach,” you said, your words growing quiet.

He strides towards you, taking it out of your hands and scanning his eyes to find the bottoms. When he found them he took them. You didn’t know why he was doing, much less what was going through his mind.

“Put them on,” he says, handing them over to you.

You eye Jaehyun, focusing on the change in his eyes. They were growing hot. You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead you started moving towards the bathroom, not thinking twice before slipping on the bikini. You didn’t look at yourself, fearing you would back out.

As you open the door you see Jaehyun sat on the bed, eyes trained on you. You walk towards him with your arms across your breasts in an attempt to try covering yourself up.

However Jaehyun reaches his arms out to you when you're close enough, taking your hands into his, allowing him to see you clearly now. You could feel your face heat up as his eyes drank you up.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me you were wearing something underneath,” he says, pausing before continuing, “because I would’ve not been able to control myself, with or without the kids.”

You didn’t respond, feeling your mouth unable to open. His hands, his fingers subtly touch your thighs which caused you to slightly flinch. “You’re so cute,” Jaehyun comments as he gets up from where he sat.

He towers over you, hands now on your neck and jaw to tilt you up. Jaehyun leans down slightly so he’s able to capture your lips. It’s a desire-full kiss unlike the sweet one you two shared a couple days ago.

You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue begin to play with yours. You could feel when his hand grasped the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper into his mouth. The kiss grew intenser with every passing second, and your mind became hazier too. You could only focus on him and his subtle touches around your body, that you never noticed when he got you on the bed.

“Since the kids are gone, you can be as loud as you want love,” Jaehyun whispers when his lips part from yours.

Your breathing was heavy and you tried regaining it back, however Jaehyun wasn’t done yet. His lips went back onto yours for a couple of minutes longer, before they traveled to your cheek and down to kiss along your jaw. From there they went further down onto your neck where he sucked on the exposed flesh, giving you bites occasionally.

“J- Jaehyun!?” you moaned out loud when you feel his teeth nip your neck before licking that spot right back up.

“What is it, my love?” Jaehyun mutters against your skin as he makes his way to your chest area.

He kisses the valley of your breasts, eyeing you from in between them. You groaned, feeling yourself grow wet from the look he had on his face.

“P- Please,” you pleaded.

“Please, what?” he responded innocently as if he had no clue what you were talking about.

“T- Touch me down there,” you boldly responded, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jaehyun just smirks before tearing his eyes off you. “The night is still young, love and plus there are no kids around to interrupt us. Let me take care of you properly tonight,” he says as he brings his head above one of your tits.

You don’t push it further, thinking that he had a point. You two should enjoy yourselves tonight.

You watched as Jaehyun leaned down to kiss your nipple over the fabric before bringing his tongue into the mix. He swirls his tongue around your bud, teasingly flickering it through the swimsuit material. He gnaws at it, causing you to groan. Then he kisses his way to the other one, doing the same to that one until your top was a sloppy, wet mess of his saliva.

Yet, Jaehyun still didn't remove your top and instead kissed his way further down. His mouth was leaving a blazing trail down your stomach. All thoughts of insecurity are erased from your head when you hear him groan against your stomach. The vibration elicited a pleasuring sensation.

“How about it, love… another one,” he mutters against your stomach where he couldn’t seem to pry his lips out of.

You lift your head slightly, his eyes already meeting yours. “Another child?” you question, sort of confused at his sudden words.

“Yeah, I mean look at Yejun and Sienna, they’re the cutest little children ever. They were made with so much love,” he says, emphasizing the last word.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” you question, feeling there is a hidden secret.

Jaheyun chuckles against your stomach, “you caught me,” he says. Moving his lips again, to your lower region. He grabs ahold of your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He gives a kiss to your inner thighs before diving into your cunt. He kisses your clit, followed along by your slit.

“You're just so hot pregnant, it’s complicated to put into words but I just feel so many emotions seeing you pregnant. I especially love it when you cling to me, wanting nothing more but for me to stick it inside you.”

Your eyes widen, face growing hot. There was no denying, you were all over him during both your pregnancies. When you had a husband like Jaehyun, who wouldn’t want to pounce on him.

“Cat got your tongue?” he mutters against your cunt, causing you to jerk against his face.

He sticks his tongue out, licking your cunt up through your bikini’s bottoms. He stayed a second or two longer on your clit before dragging his tongue back down. He alternates between pecking, sucking, and licking your cunt. You even unconsciously started grinding against his face, wanting more and more the further he continued.

“G- Give me another child, J-Jaehyun.”

The words left your mouth as you lost yourself in the pleasure. There’s no harm in another one, right? Oh god, just the thought of how he’ll handle you tonight caused you to get more turned on, grinding just a bit faster.

You faintly feel his lips smile before coming to kiss your clit. “I love you,” he says before using his teeth to pull apart the string holding your bottoms. Once untied and removed, he opens your legs again. He could see your wetness as it dripped out of your cunt.

Prying your lips open, he drinks up your wetness before inserting his tongue inside. You arched your back at the sensation, having been a long time since you felt it inside you. He rests it against your gummy walls, using the tip of his tongue to play alongside your walls. His breath, too, created a pleasuring sensation against your clit. You bucked your hips, wanting him deeper.

He thrusts his tongue inside you before taking it out, the loss of sensation causing you to whine. He devours the remnants that seemed to escape, drinking you up and making sure not a single drop goes to waste.

He isn’t done yet though, he spits on your cunt. Then with one of his thumbs, he gathers it at your clit. He doesn’t take his thumb off, continuing to rub your clit as he takes two fingers from his other hand to tease your entrance. He puts them in half way only to pull them back out. Each time leaving you to groan in frustration.

He stops his games, finally thrusting his fingers inside you. You moan out his name as you feel him scissoring them inside you, opening your cunt right up for him. Then deciding it was time to switch things up, he replaced his thumb with his mouth. His mouth engulfing your clit.

You moved your hips, arching your back as you tried to fuck yourself with his fingers inside you. They reached you deep enough to cause you to start pulsing around them. You could feel your high easily coming to you. A high that has been long missed since you gave birth.

He bites on your clit, working his fingers even faster inside you. And as much as he’d like to continue teasing you, edging you, he couldn’t continue his desire any longer. He wanted his cock inside you, to feel you warmly wrap around him.

His pace doesn’t falter, and never does his tongue and mouth on your clit. It was only then when he pressed against a sweet spot and sucked on your clit that you came. You came hard, coating him in your juices. You're breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying to gather yourself. It was only the beginning and you were already gone.

Jaheyun stayed on your cunt for a while longer, making sure to savor all of you. When there seemed to be none left he got back up on his feet. He’d been crouched down the entire time.

You hazily watched as he removed his sweats, tee, and boxers. His reddened, hardened cock came into full display. It leaked with his pre-cum.

He opens your legs up again, sliding his cock along your cunt so he could coat himself in your juices that continued to flow. While his hands grabbed your legs, holding them bent over your upper body. Your thighs squeezing your breast.

And once he had you in the desired position, he began entering you. His tip stretched you out before everything else did as well. You were being filled, his cock fitting snugly inside you cunt.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You always feel so good,” he continued saying in a sultry tone, leaning down to kiss you while he entered you.

Once it was all in he began thrusting into you while holding your legs against you. You feel him reaching your g-spot with every thrust, he’s deep within you. You feel his balls slapping against your ass with every rough thrust he gives you.

“S- So de- deep! I- I love it,” you moaned out loud, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

“Love what baby?” Jaehyun questions, bringing one leg down so he could angle you slightly. This new angle hits you into another world.

“Y- You! Your co- cock,” you replied rather seductively.

His chuckles erupt into the room, “aren’t you honest… I love it, my sweet wife deserves a reward for her honesty,” he says.

He leaves no room to talk as he slams into you, going at a godly pace. You clenched and pulsed around his cock, almost nearing your second high of the night. Jaehyun gets the message with the way you feel around his cock. So he lifts one leg up, draping it on his shoulder. Using his thumb to rub against your swollen clit, and not much time passing before you met your high.

You gushed around Jaehyun, coasting both his and his cock. He enjoyed the view, it only edged him on to meet his high, to cum in you, impregnant you.

“Take it all, fuck,” he groans as his cock twitches before painting your walls white.

He lets go of your legs, causing them to fall onto the bed. Tears slid down your face, your mouth blabbering random words. Jaehyun pulls out, not done just yet. He swiftly flips you over onto your stomach.

“Lift your ass up for me baby,” he instructs you whilst slapping both ass cheeks roughly, causing you to jerk from the sensation. You wasted to second thoughts, complying to what he asked of you. Using his hands on your hips to drag you a bit back.

You feel his cock as it tries gathering his cum so he could fuck it right back into you. Then in a matter of seconds, he’s in you again.

His fucks you with his hands on your hips, as he brings you back onto his cock. He keeps his eyes open, admiring your body, the body he couldn’t wait to see pregnant. God, just the thought of seeing you all swollen again riled him up all the more. He thrusts into you, grabbing your arms so he could pull them back fuck into you roughly.

Jaehyun lost control, his mind infiltrated with the purpose of getting you pregnant. “Cumming already baby? Got you feeling sensitive, didn’t I,” he says but your mind doesn’t process it. He continues as your cunt tightens around him, you were so close, so so so so close.

Dropping your hands, he works his way down your back to untie your top so he could touch your tits. He gropes them, squeezing them and imagining them leaking with milk again. He pinched your nipple, groaning, just then you came.

You incoherently moaned into the comforter as you came. And just like before Jaehyun didn’t stop, only quicking his pace. Your tight cunt and thoughts of another child were more than enough to get Jaehyun to cum inside you again.

He groans, cumming inside but still maintaining his thrusts, though now slow. He needed to make sure his seeds were fucked well in deep, well in enough to get you pregnant.

Once he felt like his seed was fucked well inside, he parts from you. You laid face down, going in and out of consciousness. It’d been awhile since you two got this wild. And now that it seemed over, Jaehyun’s demeanor changed. The lusting man from before was replaced by a loving husband.

He kisses you softly, scoping you up in his embrace so he could carry you into the shower. He gently cleans you up, his heart melting at your sleeping state. “You’re too precious,” he whispers, followed by an “I love you.”

And so once you two were cleaned and dried off, he carried back onto the bed. He made sure to wrap you up well before hitting the sheets himself. His arm wraps around you, feeling his warmth on your back. The night went by peacefully and beautifully.

However the next morning, right before the kids were set to come, you two went at it again like a pair of rabbits again. Well, at least now it’s safe to say you're going to be welcoming baby number 3, one that was made with excessive love.

2024. 12. 21

final a.n: you've reached the end, yay! a bit behind the scenes on this story, it was written and rewritten more than 5 times before this ended up being the final draft... not very fun (also it was originally named: where happiness lies). nonetheless, i hope u all can enjoy the finalized version, i'll be back veryyyyyyyyy soon ;) . good night (it's 3 am right now >_< )!

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starlighttsv · 24 hours ago

Note

Paige Bueckers x reader going to a store and participating in Angel tree’s

Day 2

Angel Tree - p.b

Sum: adopting kids off the angel tree and giving them the best Christmas ever

Warnings: fluff

Pair: Paige x gf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

My masterlist

“Jacob, 5 years old likes Spider-Man, Batman, Iron Man, coloring books, books, and doing arts & crafts. Wants a basketball and basketball hoop. Needs all clothes and winter gear, + shower soaps, a toothbrush and toothpaste.” You read off to Paige “Alright let’s add him too, pick one more” Paige says taking the angel tag from you and putting it with the other four.

You look around the tree looking at all the tags wishing you could give all of them the Christmas they deserve but you know you can’t. Two tags stuck out to you the most so you grabbed them and walked back over to Paige.

“I can’t pick between these two so you need to choose.” You start making Paige nod “Lila, 4 years old likes Hello Kitty, Barbie, baby dolls, Disney princesses, drawing, and Stitch. Wants a baby doll and a stuffed animal. Needs shoes and clothes” you then put that tag behind the other one and start reading the second one “Taylor, 16 years old likes skincare, makeup, hair accessories, Taylor Swift, reading, listening to music, volleyball, and basketball. Wants either cds and a cd player or vinyls and a vinyl player. Needs clothes, walking shoes, basketball shoes, and all hygiene products” you then looked up at Paige “which one?” You ask

She just walks towards you and takes both tags and puts them in the cart with the others “wha-“ you cut yourself off “I thought we were only doing 6?” You say running up to Paige to catch up with her since she started pushing the cart in the direction of the clothes “and now we’re doing 7” she says with a cheeky smile that you shake your head fondly at “but I will say we didn’t think this far ahead, this carts not gonna be big enough for 7 kids” Paige continues

You look at her then the cart and before you can say anything she cuts in “you go start getting clothes for either the boys or the girls and I’m gonna go get another cart” she says passing off the cart to you and walking off all before you could say anything

You push the cart to the closest clothes area which happens to be girls and women’s. They all need coats so you grab the correct size and design you think matches each kid and decide to start with the teenagers then work your way to the kid section. Paige comes back with another cart while you’re making your way to the kid section after getting quite a bit of clothes for the 2 girl teenagers. “Is that all the girls or just the teenagers?” Paige asks walking up to you with the cart

“Just the teenagers, I’m making my way to the kid’s section now. Why?” You replied looking up at Paige, she shakes her head and says “nothing, I was just thinking we could split up for the clothes to make this go faster, I can do the boys while your getting the rest of the girls.” You nod “yeah that could work, I’ll come over to you if I get done before you.” Paige nods saying she’ll do the same and then started walking towards the boys and men section while you continue your way to the girls section.

After you and Paige both got a lot of clothes for the kids you both decided to get the other necessities next getting all sorts of soaps, hygiene products, shoes, socks, hats, scarfs, gloves, and ear muffs. “Alright I think we can start with the wish list and like list now” Paige says stopping the cart and looking at the boys wishlist items again, making you do the same “I need to get a basketball & hoop, headphones & either an iPad or iPhone, and a pair of basketball shoes & dunks” Paige reads off

“I need a baby doll & a stuffed animal, art supplies, cds & cd player or vinyls & vinyl player, and dystopian book’s & romance books” you read off “Were kinda all over the store with this one” Paige says chuckling a little making you giggle and nod “Do you wanna split up for this one too? Should we just get everything off their list separately and meet up somewhere?” You ask making Paige look at her lists “yeah probably I think there are only like 3 aisles that we both need stuff from off of all these lists.” Paige starts thinking about how you guys should do this “Alright yeah let’s split up and get everything off the lists and meet up in the candy aisle. If you need me call me.” She continues, you nod agreeing with her telling her to also call if needed.

After around a hour and a half you start making your way to the candy aisle. You got a lot of stuff and some extra things that you think they will really like - for the baby doll you also got accessories and baby furniture, for the Barbie’s you also got the dream house, you got Taylor a vinyl player with all Taylor Swift vinyls + some vinyls of artists you think she’ll like, SOOO many books, and that’s not even all of it, there is still a bunch more of what you got.

Finally making it to the candy aisle you see Paige with her cart just as full as yours “hey babe” you say walking up to her making her look up from her phone “hey princess, you ready to checkout?” You just nod and you guys start making your way to the only area that doesn’t have long lines currently and also surprisingly - self checkout.

You and Paige both go to the only open one, with Paige letting you go first and handing you stuff for you to scan to make it easier.

When it’s time to pay you grab your wallet and get your card ready to pay, then you hear the confirmation ding making you look at Paige - standing with her phone out and grabbing the receipt “seriously? P I was gonna pay, you didn’t have to do that.” You whine out

“I wanted to do it. “ she starts then continues before you could say anything “Just let me spoil you with no complaints PLEASE” she draws the please out making you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face “Technically you’re not spoiling me, your spoiling those girls.” You say smartly making Paige smack her lips together and side eye you while putting your shopping bags in your cart “Ok well technically I’m spoiling both you and those girls because now you still have 3,798 in your bank account and their getting everything on their Christmas lists. It’s a win-win-win situation” she says with a cheeky grin

“Win-win-win situation?” You mumble under your breath “yes a win-win-win situation, what about it?” Paige sasses starting to scan all her stuff, you just shake your head and put your hands up in mock surrender “nothing” Paige just side eyes you again. Once she was done scanning and you guys fought over who payed (she cheated and payed with Apple Pay while she was pushing you back from putting your card in) you and Paige turned the gifts and tags in to where you were supposed to and then exited the store “lunch on me?” Paige suddenly asks while you guys were walking to the car making you side eye her this time.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn x reader #wnba x reader #paige bueckers fic #starlighttsvchristmascountdown

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cllightning81 · 1 day ago

Text

Tractors and Christmas Lights

Summary : Oscar is due for an event at your dads farm and its time to come clean

Pairing/s: Oscar Piastri x Clarkson!Reader

Word Count : 1.8k

Masterlist

Driver Masterlist

Want to be included in my tag list? Click HERE

You met Oscar during Silverstone in 2023. His first year on the grid and your first race that year. When your dad asked what you thought of Oscar, you just responded with ‘He’s a cool kid’. Trying to play it cool to your dad even though you and Oscar had spoken a lot that weekend and even shared numbers with the promise of meeting up, and that’s what you did.

During his break after the Silverstone Grand Prix and his meetings at the MTC, you met up with Oscar a couple of times getting to know the young man before he asked you out for real to be his girlfriend. From there your dates slowed down, racing threw him into tough double and triple headers and for a while, it was the end of farming season and Diddly Squat Farm Shop wasn’t closing down just because your dad had nothing to harvest after the harvesting season was done. While your dates slowed down, one thing that never did was your communication.

Driving the tractor around the fields harvesting the wheat and whatever else your dad and Kaleb had planted texting Oscar one-handed, or helping out in the shop texting Oscar as you restocked the shelves despite the dirty looks from the older customers that only came because of the show. It was safe to say you were as close as ever even from the other side of the world.

The topic of you and Oscar just never showed up in conversations with your dad or Kaleb, who at this point had just become another older brother but just more annoying than Finlo because you saw him more often.

That was until Mclaren called, wanting Oscar to come do a thing with Clarkson’s Farm. Obviously, your dad, being a massive F1 fan and wanting new PR, agreed. Just like he agreed to go to Alpine and celebrate there.

Now here you were rolling your eyes as the McLaren pulled up through the farm, you couldn’t roll your eyes considering that you were the one that most often drove that Lambo tractor your dad bought when he first needed a tractor.

You leaned against the sign watching him as he got out of the car looking around at the farm. You could see his smile spread as he spotted you standing against the sign. Walking over to you as he looked you up and down

“Morning Mr Piastri” You smirked, pushing yourself off the sign. It was early in the morning, and no one was about at the moment except your dad who’d left you in charge so he could go have some breakfast.

“Morning Miss Clarkson” He hummed as you reached forward, holding his hand

“Ready for a fun day on the farm?” You asked, looking down at your sheepdog who decided to check out the new visitor who’d shown up

“Who’s this?” Oscar asked, crouching down to clap her

“This is Lassie. I’m currently training her to herd the sheep so dad doesn’t have to keep doing it” You smiled

“Been teaching her F1 tricks like that one pup did the other week?” He asked, and you shrugged a little

“Stand up and open your legs just wide enough for her to slide in” You directed, and he nodded, doing as told. You stood in front of Oscar a treat in hand at her eye level

“Lassie red flag” you directed, and she instantly moved in between Oscar’s legs, looking up at him for her treat, which you handed to him.

“You taught her red flag?” He asked, and you nodded

“And box box obviously” You chuckled. Lassie ran off to the farm shop following your instructions and going to her bed. Oscar frowned as you chuckled, watching her run away

“Where’s she off to?” He asked

“Her bed. The box box is bed. I also taught her green flag instead of okay” You smiled, clearly proud of yourself as Oscar laughed at you. You wrapped your arms around him for a hug before pulling back and looking him up and down.

“We need to get you changed” You hummed, walking away, allowing him to follow behind you as you walked into the farmhouse where you tend to stay during birthing season. Oscar looked about his curiosity peaking as he looked at your ‘second home’.

“This is where Kaleb and I tend to stay during birthing season just so that we’re close to the animals” You explained, walking to the room you claimed as your own, finding some suitable clothes for Oscar

“So I think dad’s plan is to basically just get you driving a tractor. I don’t think he has anything else planned” You shrugged, and he nodded, taking the clothes you offered him before you sat down on your bed. Oscar got changed as you looked at your phone texting your dad to update him.

“So I get to see your life now” He smirked, turning around to you as you looked him up and down.

“You do except not really” You shrugged, getting up and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to your height. Pressing your lips against his own as he smirked into the kiss

“We should confess today when there’s lots of cameras about” You whispered against his lips

“So our confession will be on camera?” he asked, and you shook your head

“No, obviously not. However, he can’t react badly” You hummed, and he frowned

“But your dad won’t react badly either way” He counted, and you shrugged

“That’s true” You hummed, pressing your lips against his again as his hands threaded through your hair. The moment with Oscar was nice. There was no one around to judge, and you were able to just relax with him.

An hour later, Kaleb and your dad had Oscar in the tractor, trying to reverse it into the shed. It was stressing you out. Your poor tractor is driven backwards by someone who only drives forward at high speeds. While he wasn’t doing a bad job at reversing it in, he also wasn’t doing the best job.

Lassie happily stood in between your legs, her tail wagging and slapping against your thighs. You couldn’t keep watching Oscar attempt to reverse the tractor, so we walked back into the farm shop to get everyone a cup of tea, Lassie happily walked alongside you.

By the time you returned with the four cups of tea, Oscar had finally managed to get the tractor into the shed and was now talking with Kaleb and your dad. Lassie, assuming it was her time to go into the tractor, jumped in next to Oscar, laying at his feet. You handed out the cups with a smile as Oscar continued to sit in the tractor.

“At least it wasn’t dad’s tractor” You joked with Kaleb, who couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Oscar frowned, looking over

“What’s the difference between the tractors?” He asked, and you looked up at him

“Dad’s is a lambo” You shrugged, and Oscar’s eyes widened

“Please tell me you’re joking” He replied as both you and Kaleb shook your head, taking a sip of tea

“He was looking at buying a Ferrari tractor. Maybe you should tell Zak to make Mclaren tractors” You shrugged, setting your tea down to the side to throw the ball for Lassie.

When the farm shop had shut for the night, you couldn’t help but smile knowing that you now got to go away with Oscar after telling your dad about the relationship. Walking down the stairs with your bag in hand to find not only your dad sat there but Kaleb as well.

“Where are you of too?” Kaleb asked as you shrugged

“Just meeting up with someone” you replied as Kaleb raised an eyebrow, tilting his head

“Would that be your boyfriend?” He asked, and you nodded slightly, biting your lip as your dad’s head picked up

“Ohh do we know him?” He asked obviously, just wanting to be nosey

“You met him earlier” you replied, glancing between the two of them as Kaleb started laughing, and your dad groaned, throwing his head back

“What?” you asked

“Mr Clarkson owes be twenty quid” Kaleb laughed as your own eyes widened.

“You bet on my relationship?” You asked quietly

“Not on your relationship just who it was” your dad replied as you nodded slightly, slowly backing away

“Okay well bye” you hummed quickly, rushing out the door and over to Oscar’s McLaren, which was parked at the main gate as he waited on yours. Quickly settling yourself into the nice warm car after the cold English weather had hit you

“Are you okay?” Oscar asked, turning to look at you

“Kaleb and my dad bet on who I was dating” you replied. Looking at him, it was Oscar’s turn to laugh, which made you laugh, finally easing into the situation. Driving with Oscar on the long drive back to his house was relaxing, the casual conversation, the silent moments. It was just what you needed.

When you arrived back at Oscars house, it was dark outside, the Christmas lights lighting up the streets along with the ones on the roof of his own house

“Aww didn't realise you were so into Christmas” You smiled, turning to look at him

“I have my secrets” he shrugged, taking your bag as he got out of the car. Following behind him with a smile.

As Oscar unlocked his front door, you couldn't help but look at all the Christmas decorations inside. The Christmas tree in the hall is decorated in red with warm white lighting. As you walked into his living room, you couldn't help but smile at his cosy decorations.

For someone who spent a lot of time away from home, it definitely felt like home. His tree in the living room is decorated with navy baubles, and this time, some cool white lights wrapping around the snowy branches.

“Your house is a lot cosier at Christmas” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist as he stood next to you. One of his arms wrapping around your shoulder to pull you closer to him

“There's a papaya christmas tree in my sim room” he shrugged, and you laughed, knowing it was true from the pictures he'd sent.

“I don't doubt that's where you put that tree” you smiled as he walked you both to the sofa to sit down.

You couldn't help but lay on top of him as he settled on the couch. Oscars arms wrapped around you as your head rested on his chest.

“I have the best Christmas present for you. Shame you've got to get it late” he sighed

“Actually now dad and Kaleb know we're dating, and you're spending Christmas day in the UK. I figured I'd take you up on your offer of staying Christmas eve” you smiled up at him.

Oscar smiled down at you, leaning down to press his lips to your own. It was a perfect way to spend a cold December night.

Tag List

@molten-m122

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamez3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-199

@ahgase99

@velcosainz

@talksoprettyjjx

@yllomhej

@scarletwidow3000

@thegrapejuiceblues1982

@tellybearryyyy

@zabwlky1999

@xxx-betty

@callsignwidow

@chocolatepoetryfun

@lwstuff

@f1ln4dr3cl16mv33

@destinyg237

@glitzyditsy

@chunkpiboii

@landotd

@nxlx96

@rqlstefanny

@luca-fantilli63

@alex-wotton

@tpwkstiles

@maymustdie

@geniusalpaca

@sophiacabrese

@alice-went-away

@luvr4miya

#cllightning81 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 x you #op81 fluff #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x clarkson!reader

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vroomvroommuppett · 2 days ago

Text

four

lance stroll x leclerc!twin

summary: the one where collette is charles' twin but is a genius and owns her own company and after a big fight, she decides to invest in aston martin, and the rest is kinda explanatory

likes comments and reblogs appreciated!!

a/n some of the face claims will not be liz gilles, so please bear with me

a/n 2: i also have a rough idea of the next series...let me know if you want a rough summary...

°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・

collettemargot

liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_official, and others

collettemargot wicked 💚🩷

view all comments

user mommy

carmenmmundt LINDAAAAAAAAA

user she ate

fransisca.cgomes HAWT

user she looks so much happier

maxverstappen1 Still jealous you got to meet Johnathan Bailey.

collettemargot you snooze you look maxy

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lance_stroll

liked by collettemargot, astonmartinf1, and others

lance_stroll Je t’aime pour toujours. [I will always love you] 💚

tagged: collettemargot

collettemargot i love you so much💚

user the matching hearts🥹

user YESSSSS

astonmartinf1 Parents

landonorris I see it enough off camera, I do not need to see it here.

collettemargot that sounds like a you problem landonorris RUDE

user so sweet

chalexfanpage ew

fernandoalo_official Take care of her.

lance_stroll Always

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collettemargot

liked by lance_stroll, chloestroll, and others

collettemargot dancing through life🩷💚

view all comments

nicorosberg You look happy

collettemargot i am

lance_stroll THATS MY BABY

oscarpiastri You good? lance_stroll I can finally express my love for her in public now collettemargot awwww lancey

chloestroll sissy

collettemargot love you chlo

user amazing

user get someone who hypes you up like lance does

lilymunihe my girl

collettemargot no my girl

user the facial expressions are on point

iamrebeccad LOVE

user alex is quaking

jonnybayleaf AMAZING

maxverstappen Hi. Big fan

wickedmovie we love you

°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・°•✭・.・✫・

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, chalexfanpage, and others

charles_leclerc My baby.

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux i love you.

chalexfanpage my parents

user this is something...

scuderiaferrari The aunt and uncle.

user wow

user jealous much?

comments have been limited

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tag list @2pagenumb @d3kstar @formulaal @lady-laura-speaks @abookmouse @anamiad00msday @barcelonaloverf1life @blushmimi @charllleclerc @dark-night-sky-99 @fall-bambi @formulaonebuff @gr3yhues @heavy-vettel @ietss @il0vereadingstuff @magical-spit @mypage-myfandoms @nichmeddar @nikfigueiredo @noooway555 @norstappenvibes @novelswithariana @raizelchrysanderoctavius @samantha-chicago @stupid---person @sya-skies @theforevermorereject @thescooby-gang @woozarts @yukimaniac @hinamesgigantica @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @neferaskingdom @ricciardosredbull @carlossainzapologist @exotic-iris13 @avengers-assemble123456 @loomiscorpse @starbiesworld @mxdi0 @j-rynn @wondergirl101ks

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oatmealwrites · 2 days ago

Text

NSFW Holiday Hoes: [Frat JJK AU] Megumi x Reader

Holiday Traditions!

Vet Student! Frat Member! Megumi x F!Reader

Megumi's always been called the total scrooge of Christmas despite never having a stable family to celebrate the holidays with. Though this year he's hoping to make some good memories with you... even if you do drag him to go ice skating despite his protests.

note: reader and Megumi ARE IN COLLEGE. I will NOT write ANY nsfw jjk fics w the students unless they are aged up to their 20s.

Tags: porn with plot, friends to lovers, down bad Megumi, Yuji and Nobara cockblock, sweet toothache fluff at first, mentions of arousal & masturbation, megumi calls reader 'angel', oral [f receiving], female anatomy, p in v, protection used!, condom, missionary, legs on shoulders, aftercare, established relationship at end, MDNI, 18+

Holiday Hoes Masterlist

not totally proofread -> may edit later

Word count: 9.9k (im cooking again, maybe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluff of a certain white-haired dog sticks to your shirt as you read out the answers from the mock exam back to Yuji and Nobara who look more sullen with each question you reveal. Snacks and soft drinks litter the kitchen of the apartment and both of Megumi’s dogs circle the table like sharks waiting for stray scraps.

Yuji places a firm ‘X’ on the last answer and throws his hands up in exasperation, “This is insane! Surely you’re reading the answer key wrong!”

You look down at the paper before turning to the man on your right, handing Megumi the mock exam answer sheet and now carefully peeling tufts of fur from your shirt. Nobara compares her sheet with Yuji, silently cursing as she notices their tied score for 4/25.

“Nope, she did it right,” Megumi places the sheet of paper across from his two friends, “You two just failed. Again.”

A pity giggle escapes your lips and Megumi looks over in your direction, the ghost of a blush on his cheeks before he returns a solemn face to the pair.

“Argh! This is impossible.”

“Really! The prof has to curve it!” “No one in the class is doing well either.”

“I heard people will file complaints for his lack of teaching.”

Nobara and Yuji go back and forth spouting excuses for their poor scores, blaming everything and everyone but themselves for a lack of preparation.

“Enough,” Megumi pushes back from the table and scratches the head of the large black dog at his feet before collecting the stray cans that had accumulated, “If you two fail this exam you’re going to be sitting for retakes.”

The air is deflated from the two, and they immediately sink onto the table in worry and self-pity while you watch Megumi step on the pedal of the recycling bin and dump the aluminum inside. His hair is still messy from bed and his clothes are loungewear of university sweatpants and an oversized band sweatshirt from a concert Yuji and Nobara had dragged him to last semester.

“Ah it won’t be so bad! How many days do you have until the final?” You stand up and collect empty wrappers, silently passing them to Megumi in an effort to assist in the clean up.

Nobara taps her finger to her chin, “Hmmm I think it mentioned it in the syllabus ... .Friday maybe?”

You stop short, “Three days!? And you just now began studying?”

Megumi sighs and watches Yuji sheepishly play with the white dog’s fur, hiding behind the clouds of hair that fly up from the action, “I’m not surprised.”

You wince and lift the answer key back up again, “Well I’m not much help considering our different majors, but I’ll keep reviewing the concepts with you until you have a better understanding.”

Yuji and Nobara shoot up and raise their hands in gratitude.

“Thank you!”

“So kind!!”

“I’ll do any favor you want.”

“Just say the words-”

“–Hey,” Megumi points to the answer sheet with one long finger, his eyes narrowing at both of them, “Don’t take advantage of Y/N’s kindness. She’s willing to help you out but that doesn’t mean you can slack off the entire day and not take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously!” Yuji shoots back, his eyes wide with passion and determination, “The resit exam is the same evening as the holiday frat function!”

“We can’t miss it!”

Megumi nearly deflates from the response and resorts to picking up the TV remote and flipping through the channels in the connected living room, uninterested in any other argument that they have to offer. You turn back to Yuji and Nobara who are actively planning their evening plan for the function, the exam completely forgotten.

“Do you guys have a party for everything?”

Yuji snaps back and grins wide, “Yea isn’t it great? I heard Nanamin is making cookies for this one!”

Nobara ‘oooos’ and begins recalling the best cookies her childhood friend had brought her from a trip to Tokyo while you sit at the table and reconsider your choices in life. Megumi slides the remote onto the kitchen counter and looks at the TV before standing next to you and breaking the commotion.

“If you two are going to be unfocused at least make this an honest break. Let Y/N and I also rest in the meantime.”

You look up to him with a slight smile as if to say ‘thanks’ and turn back to Yuji who is already standing from the table and stretching. Nobara follows suit, opening her phone and scrolling a few times before checking the time.

“Hey Yuji– let’s go to the convenience store. I’m hungry.”

“Huhhh? Didn’t you eat earlier?”

Nobara shoots him a glare and Yuji raises his hands up in defeat, not wanting an argument to break out before the clock has even hit noon. You take this chance to stand up and stretch as well, a slight grumble emitting from your stomach.

“Why don’t we go by that new cafe that just opened up? I think it’s only a few blocks down the road and I’ve been dying to try it.”

Yuji and Nobara exchange a glance between each other before turning to Megumi who holds their stare. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes hold enough to show a small indication to something only known between the three of them.

It’s not unfamiliar, the three of them are much closer to each other considering their shared time in high school, though the feeling is still as isolating as ever. You look between each of them, wondering what the inside reference could possibly be before Yuji speaks up and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “Ahh that cafe? Maybe some other time Y/N… we’re just getting snacks for now.”

You force your lips into a tight grin and nod once, trying your best to not let the feeling of disappointment be heard in your voice, “Oh ok. Pick me up a Red Bull and some chips?”

Nobara smiles once and the two shuffle on their winter jackets before making a promise ‘it’ll only be 30 minutes’ and heading out of the apartment door. Megumi retreats back into the living and sits on the sofa while you take a moment to admire the coziness of the atmosphere. Yuji was the one who insisted their shared apartment needed to be decorated for the holidays and Nobara had offered to assist in setting up. Colorful winter lights are hanging along the border of the ceiling, small stockings that Jin had mailed Yuji hang under the TV using command hooks and push pins, and a semi-alive tree sits in the corner with every branch holding an ornament.

You walk up to the couch and sit on the other side of Megumi, shuffling around to look for a fallen throw blanket to cover your legs with. The dogs move to lay in their respective beds, enjoying the sunlight that comes pouring into from the windows for their midafternoon nap.

“Are you cold? You can have a pair of my sweatpants if you need.”

You shuffle and pull the blanket over your leggings, the edge of your oversized JJK frat t-shirt from a function you assisted in running reaching your mid-thigh, “It’s alright, but I might need to take you up on a sweatshirt later though.”

Megumi smiles gently at you before peeling his eyes off yours and back to the TV which was now playing a cheesy Hallmark flic. The main love interests are currently holiday gift shopping for their mutual friend together, though it’s painfully obvious the male lead is beyond jealous. The cliche of it all is enough to make you roll your eyes, but before you can give a coy remark you catch Megumi’s stare at the screen.

His face is the same it usually is, attentive but uninterested, yet despite that he makes no move to change the channel or shut the TV off. Dark, nearly navy blue eyes, stare between the two characters almost longingly, as if he was watching something he could never have.

Though all other indicators of his body language show otherwise, feet planted on the ground as if he were to stand up at any moment and fingers twitching like he may reach for the remote again.

“You don’t like this movie?”

“Hmm–”, He turns and looks over at you for a moment, slightly pink from catching him off guard, before turning back to the TV. “Oh, more like I find it… unrealistic? Maybe that’s the word...”

“Oh yea I agree. I mean who goes Christmas shopping with their crush for another guy? So cheesy.”

Megumi furrows his brows and shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving the movie couple who are now arguing but show nothing but desire on their faces, “Sorry, maybe it wasn’t the best word. I guess unrelatable fits it better.”

You don’t say anything instead of a slight ‘hmm’ for him to continue.

Megumi sighs and shrugs his shoulders, motioning to the array of holiday decor scattered across the apartment but stopping short when his hand nearly reaches your direction, “I just don’t have the same association you guys do with this time of year. Holiday parties with friends and family, decorating trees with tacky music in the background, going on da-”

He cuts himself off and stares at the screen for an extra moment before turning to you earnestly, “Yuji always calls me a scrooge but… I just don’t see the point. It’s not like I grew up experiencing it.”

Fuck. Great, just great. Try to make small talk and accidentally bring up family trauma. Another reminder to never go into the psychology or therapy majors.

“Oh, yea I guess that’s fair,” you snuggle into the blanket further and try your hardest to ignore the pouty form of his lips and the way his hair kisses the apples of his cheeks every time he moves his head. “Are you going to the frat function at least?”

“Huh?” Megumi opens his mouth in awe and raises an eyebrow, “No way.”

“Really? You’re seriously not going?”

“Well..” he rubs the back of his neck annoyed, a slight twitch in his eyebrow, “Satoru is my big… I have no doubt he’ll try to drag me there anyways.”

You giggle and the large white-haired dog stands up from its bed with a long stretch and quick shake before placing its head in your lap and waiting for attention.

“Could be fun~”

“Maybe..” Megumi mumbles as he watches your fingers run through the hair of his beloved pet, soft coos and kisses leaving your lips as you look at the dog with admiration. The same longing look creeps onto his face as he watches you, an almost pained expression as he listens to the soft praises he so desperately wants to hear be directed at him instead of the canine in front of you.

“I guess I just don’t see why this time of year has to be any different than any other season..”

You shrug, still petting the dog and scratching behind its ears, “I mean besides the vibes… it is colder. So better for staying close and warm?”

Megumi pauses and stares at you with a slight blush before the implication of your words sinks in and you raise your hands in protest, “Not like that but I mean… It is cuffing season… which is unrelated! Hahah… when is Yuji back? It’s been 30 minutes right?”

Your words are fumbled and rushed together while Megumi blinks slowly and gently grins, a warm glow on his cheeks, “Well, what do you like to do this time of year then?”

You bring your hands down and rest them back on the fur of the dog, though your attention is still focused on Megumi, “Hmmm, ice skating?”

“Ice skating? Sounds menial.”

“What? It’s super hard at first but also really fun!”

“It's just rollerblading on ice… how is that holiday themed anyways?”

You pause and cross your arms, “Geez, you were the one who asked for my opinion..”

Megumi pauses for a moment and turns back to the TV for a split second, looking at the way the couple is now sharing a passionate kiss having revealed their true affection for one another.

“Let’s go.”

Megumi turns his attention back to you in slight shock, “What?”

“Let’s go ice skating. I’ll show you it can be fun.”

“I already know it won’t be. We can save the money for admission by agreeing to that now.”

You roll your eyes and nearly give up on the idea, your heart slightly retracting at the borderline rejection and go to kiss the dog another light air-kiss. Megumi watches and sucks in a breath, “I mean.. I guess we can give it a try.”

“Really?” Your eyes shoot open and your hand leaves the head of the dog to the armrest of the couch to support your body as you pivot to face him fully, “I’ll show you how fun it can be. I bet all of us will have a great time!”

Megumi sinks back into his chair slightly, taking short glimpses at the TV couple with an uneasy expression now written on his face.

“All of us?”

“... I mean.. I thought you would want to invite Yuji and Nobra.”

He takes the corner of his bottom lip between his canines and bites for a second, the white-haired dog now meandering over to him for attention and placing its head in his lap. Megumi pets it absentmindedly, lost in thought before turning to you, “I’ve already done decorating with Nobara and watched a million ‘classic’ movies with Yuji… if it’s alright I’d like to just do this with you.. And see why you like it so much.”

OH MY G-. stay calm. This is cool. This is totally chill and totally platonic. Right? right.

“Yea, I’d like that.”

Megumi smiles earnestly and an invisible weight can almost be seen lifting off his shoulders at your response. He nods once and turns back to the movie, your bodies still positioned close to each other and only separated by the thin fuzzy throw blanket. Despite the sunlight pouring in from the windows, the array winter lights reflect a warm rainbow of colors on his hair and the chill of the winter air makes you snuggle into the fabric deeper. Before he can open his mouth again there’s a shuffle in front of the apartment door and Yuji swings it open with Nobara following him closely.

“Alright guys! Got the goods!”

Yuji kicks off his sneakers next to the shoe rack and shimmies out of his jacket while Nobara empties the contents of the plastic bag onto the kitchen table. Megumi sighs and stands up, waiting for you and folds the throw blanket once you rise from the couch. With a slight yawn you open the plastic folder on the table and take out the second mock-exam for the final before passing it to Nobara and Yuji.

Yuji lifts his pencil and stares at this paper with determination, “This time– we’ll pass it!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday comes faster than you expected, having been so busy assisting Yuji and Nobara with their exam review and running around various shopping malls to finish up last minute holiday shopping that the text message from Megumi indicating he could pick you up at 2pm nearly causes cardiac arrest.

He follows through on his promise, picks you up from your apartment promptly at 2pm, and raises an eyebrow when you suggest playing holiday music during the drive to ‘set the mood’.

“Nonsense… Christmas..? Are you sure this is classic holiday music?”

“Yep! Listen to it every year.”

Megumi shrugs as you two make small talk about campus events, future frat functions, and winter break plans; enjoying the company of each other and a slight burn on your cheeks from how easy everything seemed with him. After only 20 minutes he pulls the car into the parking lot of the ice rink and gives you one last look of ‘are we really doing this?’ before sliding out of the car and opening your door.

It’s busy but not overcrowded, the two of you only waiting about 5 minutes to pay admission, which Megumi insists on paying for you, and grabbing a pair of rental skates. The two of you walk to the edge of the rink and admire the ice for a moment; Megumi walks on the skates with perfect balance and grace making you wonder if he’ll be skating circles around you in no time.

You take to the ice first, sliding on it a few times before planting both skates and moving a few arm’s lengths away from the entrance and turning to watch Megumi. He stares at the ice and grips the edge of the wall, mirroring how you had felt the ice before pushing off with both feet towards the center.

You watch in awe at first at the way he glides further down the ice, before he lifts a leg to push off and immediately crashes down onto the rink. The ice pushes his body so he slides into the wall with a ‘thud’ and it takes all of your personal resolve to not immediately lean over and cackle.

“Oh my– pfft- Are you? Heheh Are you ok?”

“People find this fun?”

You stand next to Megumi and offer a hand, which he wastes no time in taking, and pull him to his feet so he can balance against the wall.

“It’s fun to me.”

“Yea, probably funny watching me fall.”

The cold air nips at your cheeks and nose, painting them a pale pink while you dust off some of the ice from his jacket; the moment is so wholesome you can’t even think about anything else besides the man in front of you and his lack of balance.

“Come on~ try again ok?”

Megumi sighs but listens regardless, pushing off the wall and immediately falling back down, scowling when a small child easily glides past him without any help at all. The cycle repeats a few times, and by the 4th time he falls, the confidence and patience in the activity is nearly drained.

“Ok, how about this?” You drag him up again, as you’ve been doing the whole time, but this time you don’t let go of his arm. “It seems like you prefer holding onto the wall… so why don’t you just hold on to me?”

“Huh?”

You skate outwards and drag his body off the wall, watching the way his face goes from flinching to fascination when he doesn’t immediately topple over. An arm wrapped around his bicep, as he always been this fit?, you gently guide the man down the ice. Megumi doesn’t miss the way your eyes are looking everywhere but him and the intense blush on your face that is surely mirroring his own; he swallows thickly and leans into your touch slightly, trying to memorize the way it feels to have you wrapped around his arm as if your bodies were made to fit together.

“See? Not too bad right?”

Megumi looks down at you and grins, though holds his sarcastic tone for the bit, “Mmmm I guess it could be worse..”

You gently nudge him and laugh while he lets out a few chuckles and matches moving his legs at the same interval as your own. A fast learner, you both manage to do an entire lap around the rink without falling over, though a few wobbles on a particularly beat up patch of ice causes his grip on you to intensify.

“You’re a natural.”

“Only able to do this because you’re here with me.”

Looking up at Megumi it would be impossible to miss the way he’s staring at you, admiration and honesty on his face while his gaze swaps between your eyes and your lips. Excitement coursing through you now, your head subconsciously leans in when his hand dips from your shoulder to waist and pulls you closer into his body.

About to shut your eyes, your body jerks when the same small child from earlier glides right past Megumi, but close enough to make him flinch and stumble. In slow motion, he topples to the ground and drags you along with him, hitting the ice with a combined ‘thud’ as you land side by side and still wrapped into each other.

“I… I’m so sorry! Are you hurt-”

Tears break from your eyes and laughter leaves your lips loudly without any care, the entire situation being too funny and cliche to elicit any other kind of reaction from you. Megumi chokes on his words and watches you with his eyes wide and lips parted; any resentment towards the annoying kid for ruining the moment instantly dissipates as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter.

“You’re ok?”

“Hmm?” You wipe a tear and sit up on the ice, Megumi's arms still wrapped around you as they were earlier to break to your fall, “Yea I’m fine. This is just part of learning and it’s hilarious.”

His face is bright red and before he can lean in again, in an attempt to re-do the one thing he’s been aching to do for months now, a whistle blows signaling the end of the open session. Looking up at the time you wonder how 2 hours could fly by so fast before standing up and pulling your companion to his feet right after.

“What do you usually do after ice skating?”

You glide to a halt and step off the ice and onto the mats on the floor, offering Megumi a hand when he follows suit, “Hot cocoa? We can make some and watch a movie?”

The man at your close side, closer than usual, slides out his phone and checks the time, “That sounds good. Yuji and Nobara are still on campus for a while.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your lips hover above the rim of the mug, blowing steam away from the beverage before taking a sip and sighing at the familiar flavor. Another cheesy holiday romance movie plays in the living room while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch Megumi pour himself a hot chocolate. Silently you pass him the toppings—whipped cream, marshmallows, and chocolate syrup—while he raises an eyebrow at you and mumbles about ‘getting a stomach ache’ before adding them into his mug.

“So… how was ice skating? 1 through 10 ranking.”

Megumi winces at the sweet flavor of the beverage and leans his weight into the counter next to you, so close that the scent of his laundry detergent fills your senses.

“Well I did fall a lot..but,” he looks off with a slight blush and coughs slightly. “I guess it’s not so bad given the company.. Maybe a 6?”

“I’ll take a 6. You know the more you do it the better you get? We can go again next weekend if you're free.”

Megumi watches as you sip on your hot cooca, eyes lingering on the way your face lights up at the same flavor he can’t seem to digest without getting a toothache; he takes another sip regardless, wanting to experience it the same way you certainly were. You don’t pay any attention until the feeling of a paper napkin is wiping your cheeks at the whipped cream that had rubbed off against your face with your last sip.

Smiling up at Megumi and aching to slow your increased heart rate, you take the napkin and wipe off any remnant while he continues staring at you; lips part and close again as if he were constantly trying to start a sentence before backpedaling and remaining silent. This particular holiday movie in the background shows two friends attempting to make a gingerbread house, though their touches against each other are anything other than platonic.

Megumi watches it for a moment before inhaling slowly and resolving himself to finish what he keeps trying to start, “I want to do that again. Go ice skating with you again. But…”

A deep breath escapes his lips and you internally prepare for rejection.

It’s fine… just happened to misread the situation. If he doesn’t want anything more… it’s just something to accept and move on… even if it hurts like a bitch.

“I have to come clean about this-” he places his mug on the counter and looks intently at you, “I accepted the offer as if it were something friendly… like two friends just hanging out,” you wince but he continues, “But in all honesty I wanted it to be different. For us to be different.”

He pushes off the counter and moves forward to face you head on, “I’m sorry about my intentions… and lack of clarity for them but..” he pushes a chunk of his hair back in frustration at the way he keeps getting caught in his words and the strands fall right back into the same place, “I just can’t sit here with you drinking hot cocoa, watching movies, going ice skating and feeling you hold onto me and pretend to feel something platonic when the only thing I want is for us to be anything but that.”

Huh? HUH?

Megumi stands in front of you, waiting for anything to leave your lips at his words, and cringes at himself for the lack of clarity in the way he worded everything. The black-haired dog nudges into his leg waiting for a treat or some attention, but he stands motionless waiting for your response.

“I think I understand…and I feel the same. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly wish ice skating was a date.”

“It could be.”

You look up at Megumi who watches you with eyes full of a different kind of longing than they hold during the movie; his eyes watch you carefully as if at any moment you could back pedal and crush his vulnerable heart.

“What do you mean?”

“Well..” he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter next to his, “we can mark this one down as our first?”

His voice is gentle and sweet, his eyes searching yours for reciprocation when you resolve to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. There’s a slight sigh through his nose at the feeling, soft lips move against yours, and your hands tangle in his messy dark hair. You both break away for a moment, taking in the realness of the situation before connecting at the mouth once more and pulling each other in closer to solidify the mutual decision.

Tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss further, his lips move in sync against yours while his hands rest politely on your back. A whimper escapes his mouth when your hands leave from the mess of his hair and reach around to grab his knuckles and push down to rest his palms on your hips. The sound of his earlier disposition melts into a moan when he’s given permission to sink his fingertips into the flesh of your hips and waist, relishing in the moment he’s been dreaming of.

His hands massage the flesh and occasionally dip down just a liiittleee lower to grab at the upper curve of your ass; your lips break and reconnect with more force. With a slight tug on his hair and knead of your ass, his tongue pokes out to break a testing swipe across your bottom lip. Instantly you part open your mouth just a bit wider to feel the hot muscle of his tongue push against your own, teeth occasionally clacking from the awkward angle before you both find momentum.

Megumi hums into the motion, addicted to running his tongue against yours, savoring the sweet flavor of the hot chocolate.

“I don’t mind that much…” Megumi mumbles, breaking from the kiss for a short moment before reconnecting his lips and taking a firm squeeze of your flesh in his hand, “the taste of that sugary drink” kiss “isn’t bad when I’m tasting it off you..”

Knees nearly weak at the comment and a blush intense across your face, you drag his face into yours with more pressure, trying to hide the embarrassment from his admission. He chuckles and pushes you into the counter further, chasing your lips before a firm sensation pushes into your pelvis and Megumi backs up awkwardly.

Awkwardly pivoting and nearly tripping on the fluffy black dog that was sitting behind his feet, Megumi catches his balance and looks off to the side and brings his hands up in apology.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I hope… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable..”

You struggle to follow until your eyes trace past the worry on his lips and slight tremble of his finger tips before sinking further to the obvious erection straining against the fabric of his left upper thigh. He shifts his weight uncomfortably and shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, pushing the fabric up to avoid the obvious bulge that grows with the heightened sexual tension.

You feel the slick of your own arousal seep into the cotton fabric of your panties and you clench achingly around nothing. Megumi pants deeply but refuses to make eye contact, silently wondering if he had pushed things too far and broken a boundary by his body’s reaction.

Your mouth feels so dry and your throat is growing tight from the carnal desire building. “N-no… you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all..”

Megumi breaks his gaze from the TV screen and looks back at you, hair disbelieved more than usual and pupils blown wide as he listens to your response. Shit he’s powerless against that stare, well against all of you in truth. Anything you want he’d do, every word he’d listen to; that same hypnotic spell you placed him under the first time Yuji had introduced the both of you.

“Y-yea? It’s ok?”

You nod and drag him back into you, hovering your lips. Surely you could just keep kissing and ignore right? How hard could that be? Haha… we’ll just ignore it…

You reconnect your lips and his hands make no hesitation to rest on your hips again while your hands tangle in his hair before tugging the material of his sweatshirt closer to you. It’s as if he’s drunk, all the plans he had on wooing you are thrown out the window as soon as his skin touches yours.

The plan, the original plan, he had was to impress you at ice skating and maybe even hold your hand during it. That failed, so he resorted to your proposal of hot chocolate and a movie, an opportunity to ask you out, but this time as something more. Even then he couldn’t muster up the courage until you offered to go ice skating again.

You groan against the muscle of his tongue while his hips grind against your pelvis, the friction his body craved finally getting a taste.

No. Megumi knows he has to make a move here; tired of the way he usually sits back and lets life do what it wants with him. It takes Yuji and Nobara dragging him out of the house to actually doing something, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let the one girl he’s actually liked kiss him without knowing exactly what he’s been thinking and feeling all this time.

Walking his dogs together, grabbing lunch on campus, fuck even Satoru teasing him countless times at functions for acting like a needy virgin when he stared helplessly at you; begging for an once of attention as if he were a dog.

Megumi pushes into you further, his hand going south to grab your ass and kneed the flesh before his lips break yours and his mouth sucks hard and fat spots onto the side of your neck.

“Fuck.. Megumi—“

His tongue swipes the skin before he sinks his teeth in hungrily, mind going fuzzy from desire and arousal. Every time his name leaves your lips, his teeth sink in just a little bit harder and his cock twitches painfully from within his jeans.

You’re nearly squished between his erection and the corner of the counter, in an effort to breathe you take a step back but Megumi immediately follows suit, mumbling into your neck “Haaa.. don’t run… please angel…”

He grabs your hips steady and reconnects your lips, continuously grinding against you, making no effort to hide the way his body was begging for more. Further crushed between the force of his pelvis and the cool counter, you take a hand down from his hair and place it flat against his chest, pushing back.

Megumi allows himself to be swayed back, momentarily worrying if you would call it off here before you tug on the hem of his sweatshirt. “We can… go upstairs?” You turn to the counter and laugh dryly, “It might give us some more room?”

A shiver runs down his spine and Megumi exhales shakily at the thought while his cheeks puff with every breath. “That’s alright?”

Immediately he thinks of his room, is it messy? Did he pick his clothes up off the floor? Would you notice a very obvious box of tissues and lube on his night stand?

Before he can continue internally worrying about the state of his bedroom, you take him by the hand and nod, mirroring the same face drunken with desire, “yea… I want to.”

Megumi’s brain nearly short circuits at the admission and his body moves towards his bedroom, dragging you behind him, Ok.. this is happening… act casual.

His palms halts on the door knob for a moment, silently wondering when the last time he shaved was, if his deodorant was still working, and– “Oh..”

As soon as he opens the door, both dogs nudge past your legs and get comfortable on his bed and floor, looking up at him as they would every evening routine. Boner still uncomfortable in his jeans with his hands now on your waist while your panties are sopping wet, you both exchange uncomfortable glances.

“Alright.. Sorry..”

Megumi shuffles over and picks up the white-haired dog from his bed while you corral the other out of the door; only stopping once both are shooed back into the living room. Megumi sighs and clicks the door shut before turning back to you; instead of an awkward small talk over the fact his dogs are cockblocks, he resolves to grab your waist with one hand, cradling your neck in the other, and pulling you into a kiss.

Your brain returns to its dizzy and fuzzy state, crawling backwards onto the plush mattress of his bed when Megumi guides you to it, his lips never leaving yours. Fingers leaving the dip of your hips, his hands gently push your back flat while he remains standing between your legs and dips his head down into your neck.

Cool fingers play with the hem of your sweater and admire the warmth of the skin of your navel before playing with the elastic of your leggings. His kisses are lighter than the bruising ones from earlier but each movement of his lips leaves goosebumps on your skin.

“Can I…” he swallows and stands upright, pinching his fingers between the elastic of your leggings, “take these off?”

Heart pounding in your chest and mind fuzzy with desire, you nod once and watch the way he gently tugs the fabric down and motions for you to raise your hips; pulling them past the curve of your thighs and down your ankles before throwing them haphazardly behind him.

Your breath stops as his movements halt, embarrassment burning on your face as he stares at the dark blue cotton that’s stained an even darker color from the amount of slick saturating the fabric. “Oh wow.. Angel..”

The new pet name barely registers in your head before a finger glides up and down the fold of your pussy, occasionally pushing against the wet patch to see how much more the fabric could sop up before it leaked onto his finger. You shiver and whimper with each stroke of his finger, flexing your hips when his other hand moves to rub circles around your clit through your panties.

“Aaaa… M-Megumi..”

Your head is thrown back when he finally hooks his fingers along the waistband and tugs the underwear down to meet your leggings on his bedroom floor. He splays your thighs open with a strong grip on your legs and stares for a moment once more before leaning down to place open mouth kisses along the flesh. One particularly fresh bruise on the side of your thigh gets a few extra kisses, as if an apology from Megumi for pulling you to the ice and causing the small injury.

Impatient hands tangle in his hair as you attempt to tug him to where you need him the most, “Please.. Megumi.. Need you…”

And who was he to resist you? In the same hypnotic trance, he kneels against the edge of his bed and groans slightly at the pressure against his cock before licking a long stripe up your pussy. Nails scraping his scalp and head leaning into the plush blanket on his bed, Megumi wastes no time licking several more long stripes.

It’s the girl he’s been dreaming about nonstop with her thighs spread wide for him, and Megumi finally snaps. All the months of hesitation come rushing back into his mind, remembering every time he was too awkward to tell you directly how he felt, and it flips a switch in him. No longer testing the water, he delves his tongue into the entrance of your pussy and wraps his arms around the underside of your thighs to keep you still.

“Oh my-.. Nnnghh”

His nose occasionally bumps your clit and the reaction leaving your lips makes him only more feral, increasing the sloppiness of his tongue moving in and out your cunt and creating a pool of saliva and wetness staining his chin and the bed below.

The noise is disgustingly lewd, sopping french kisses to your pussy before his tongue rubs against your clit and an index finger slowly stretches you open. You throw your head back in pleasure and Megumi looks up to watch the furrow of your eyebrows before diving back in; his hips humping pathetically against the mattress, erection growing painfully hard.

“Fuck!”

A second finger stretches you open so nicely while his teeth pinch and nip at your puffy and swollen clit. Megumi’s lips continue focusing on you intently, determined to make you finish at least once on his mouth. He’s been dreaming of this moment for so long, and was not about to let it end without making you feel as good as he’s been planning to. All the nights of shoving his hand down his boxers, wishing, needing it to be yours, was nothing compared to the sounds that left your lips and pussy.

“Right.. Ahhh.. right there…”

Digging your nails into his hair and pulling slightly, your back arches when his fingers graze that one spot along your vaginal wall. The sensation has your toes curling and twitching as they rest on his shoulders and he wears your thighs like earmuffs.

“Right here?” Megumi looks up at you, eyes half shut in drunken desire and a mess of fluids dripping down his chin to the bob of his Adam’s apple, before flicking his fingers upright from inside you, “Here, angel?”

A partial whimper, partial gasp is all he needs to hear before his fingers curl to bully the rough patch and his lips dip to rub his tongue against your clit with as much force and speed he could give. Hips twitching and raising to meet his action, a familiar coil builds in your abdomen and you begin to clench pathetically against his fingers.

“Shit.. just got so much wetter f’me..”

Increasing the speed of his fingers to a bruising pace to rut against your g-spot, you throw your head back and convulse slightly at the amount of pleasure that washes over you as your orgasm ripples through your body.

“Yea.. just like that angel.”

Megumi continues thrusting his fingers, though slower, to gently fuck out the rest of your orgasm and then lift his hand to his mouth to suck your cum off of them. You wearily blink at him and sway your head from side to side, the weight of your release leaving your limbs like jelly.

With a slight ‘pop’ of his fingers, Megumi rises once and softly rubs circles into the flesh of your thighs with eyes staring intently at you in stark contrast. Almost as if watching prey, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, “You ok there?”

Sitting on your elbows and catching your breath, you nod once and drink in the sight of him drunk on desire and his lips still glistening from the essence of your arousal. Leaning down he connects his lips to yours, letting his tongue play against yours and provide the taste of your own orgasm with a small hum.

Breaking the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you before it lazily snaps, your eyes break contact from his and notice the way his erection was pushing painfully against the denim of his jeans.

You lick your lips at the sight, silently wondering what his pretty cock might look like, “Want me to help you out there?”

Nearly buckling at your words, Megumi shakily exhales and shakes his head before leaning back and tugging off his sweatshirt and under t-shirt in one pull. Toned and lean abs carve his flesh and a dark happy trail begins just below his navel before sinking past the hem of his jeans. The sight is enough for another gush to seep from your pussy and cause your nipples to erect against the fabric of your bra.

“No angel.. But I will definitely take you up on that later.. ‘Cause I think–” he unbuttons his jeans and lets the material fall before kicking them off his legs onto the floor without care, “I might cum the moment I feel your tongue on me.”

You sigh at the sight of his erection straining against his thin cotton boxer briefs, a patch of pre cum staining the gray material even darker. Megumi brings his fingers to the hem of your sweater before pulling it up and above you, eyes lingering on the swell of your tits. Even prettier than he imagined, he dips down to plant open mouth kisses between the valley and wrapping his hands behind your back in an attempt to get the clasp.

After a few failures, you bend your hands behind yourself to release the metal hooks and toss the bra to the corner of his room; Megumi doesn’t bother complaining, now relieved to finally see the tits he’s jerked off to, in person.

Immediately, his lips wrap around your left nipple while his hand lifts to knead the fatty flesh of the other breast. Gentle teeth nip at the hardened bud before sucking a few deep purple hickies around the swell and lower collarbone.

His lips leave a trail of fire, and your hands tug at the roots of his hair when he plants an extra kiss on one breast before swapping to the next.

“Wouldn’t want this one to feel left out.”

You scoff lightly and arch at the sensation of the wet muscle gliding along the sensitive flesh, and the roughness of his hand massaging the smooth skin of your other tit. A few more bruises are sucked onto your chest before Megumi lifts back up and guides you further up the bed to make room for him to climb up and join you.

“Oh wait–” Megumi stands on his knees on the bed and looks around his room, “condom.”

The anticipation of getting a condom and getting railed by the guy you’ve been crushing on, and the guy who’s very appearance causes a gush in your panties, elicits a shiver of excitement. Sighing slightly, he lifts himself off the bed, “I’ll be right back.”

His words are meaningless, as if you were going to leave anyways, and he opens his bedroom door a crack to slip out. Sets of paws against the wooden floorboards can be heard as Megumi shoos his pets away in an attempt to run down the hall to Yuji’s bedroom and dig through his drawers for a rubber.

You take a brief moment to admire his room while he’s away, the tidiness of it all isn’t surprising, but the lack of wall decor and personal memorabilia is. A few posters of bands, notably Weezer, hang on his walls alongside a few photos and awards for his achievements in the veterinary field, but other than that, the room is bare. The color palette is a blue-gray and the only plushies in the entire room are toys for his dogs; a feeling of almost sadness emits from the intense minimalistic aspects of it all. As if he didn’t have anything to fill the walls with, rather than him choosing to leave it completely bare.

“Ah.. shit–” Megumi slips back into the room and struggles to keep his dogs out, “I’ll take you for a walk after..”

After…

The feeling subsides and the anticipation courses through your veins again as Megumi successfully coerces the canines to retreat back to the living room. He shuts the door in success.

“Got it.”

A half smirk that nearly looks out of character is planted on his face while he wastes no time in rushing back up to the bed and positioning himself comfortably over you. Leaning down for another kiss, his erection grinds against your navel, still covered by the thin fabric, but with enough force some of the pre cum smudges onto your flesh.

He sighs at the friction and sits up to shimmy off his boxer briefs and kick them to the floor without care. The happy trail that starts at his navel extends down to the base of his cock into a neat bush of pubic hair; he wasn’t regularly shaving, but still kept things tidy.

Longer than average and slightly thicker than any of your exes, the sight of his dick made the walls of your cunt clench pathetically around nothing. Balls heavy and aching, Megumi wraps his hand around the shaft to give a few pumps before splitting open the foil package and sliding the rubber down his cock.

It takes a few extra tugs before he’s certain it's snug enough, and he nudges your thighs apart with his knees and leans back down into your neck.

“You ready angel?”

“Y-yea.”

You instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders and sink your nails lightly into the flesh of his back as you feel him slowly slide inch by inch inside. The stretch is an erotic burn that, despite the sting, only makes you even hornier for it all.

An uneven breath escapes his lips by the time he bottoms out, taking a moment for you to adjust and Megumi to reel his brain back in to avoid prematurely cumming in only a matter of seconds. You twitch your hips at the feeling of wanting more; his deft hands reach for one of the pillows behind you, and slides it under your hips to make the angle easier to move.

Megumi does a few test strokes before finding a steady rhythm and snapping his hips into yours with a small ‘thawp’ of his balls hitting your ass with every pump.

“Oh shit angel…hnngh.. Better than I ever i-imagined.”

You whine deliciously into his ear and sink a few crescent shapes into his back from the sensation; twitching every time the tuft of pubic hair grinds perfectly against your puffy clit. The sensation is mind numbing and Megumi begins lazily biting at flesh on your neck, pussy drunk from the sensation and devoid of any rationale.

Even with a condom he can feel the way your cunt clenches around him, as if your pussy was molding to the shape of his dick with each thrust. He can’t even imagine hitting it raw, resolving that if you ever let him do that, he might just have to put a ring on your pretty finger.

Over the combined moans and whimpers, the bed frame smacks against the wall in a steady ‘thud, thud, thud’ and the wooden frame creaks from the motion.

“Fuck… Megumi…”

“Yea.. you got it Angel… just haaa.. Keep those pretty hips steady f’me.”

“Megumi! Exam’s over!”

Nearly falling forward and crushing you, Megumi stops all motions while the two of you look at each other in total terror. Despite the cockblock of his roommate and potentially getting caught balls deep inside you, his cock twitches inside aching for release; you dig your nails into his shoulder in worry.

Nobara’s shoes can be heard clacking on the wooden floor next to Yuji in the kitchen, “Hmm two mugs.. But the content is kinda cold… did they go out for a walk?”

“The dogs are here though…”

Megumi hunches over you pathetically and grinds his hips without pulling out before you usher him to back up. He follows your instruction and slides out, watching as you scurry off the bed and gently get on the floor, bringing a pillow for your hips. Eyes wide in understanding that on the floor the bed frame wouldn’t be making any noise, Megumi follows suit and positions himself between your legs again.

This is bad. So very bad. If Yuji heard you two, there was no chance hell either one of you would ever hear the end of it. But… the way you look up at Megumi and spread your legs wanting and waiting for him to continue is enough to disregard any worry.

Sighing at the feeling of your cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock once more, Megumi lifts your ankles to rest upright on his shoulders and begins thrusting again. Not pulling out all the way, his strokes are shallow but forceful, still kissing your cervix with every movement; he plants chaste kisses on your ankles before moving a hand to cover your mouth when a whimper threatens to escape.

“I guess they aren’t home?”

“Oh!” Yuji’s hands can be heard clapping through the door, “He probably finally took her to that cafe! You know I felt so bad the other day, but Megumi would kill us if we took Y/N there before he could ask her out.”

You look at Megumi and nudge the side of his face with your foot in a half-heartwarming and half-teasing manner before he pinches your sole with his fingers. Despite the truth being poured out by his best friends just outside the door, his thrusts are getting more erratic and an orgasm quickly builds in his abdomen.

To even the situation, Megumi slides a hand down further and rubs quick circles against your click, quickly ‘shushing’ you when whines escape your lips in pleasure.

Shit. He was about to cum. About to cum with his fucking friends outside his bedroom door listening.

“Well– Let’s get food then too! Maybe steak?”

Nobara can be heard walking to the front door again and scoffing, “No way– let’s get sushi.”

The pair can be heard grumbling between each other before the front door eventually ‘clicks’ and you're left in silence again.

Immediately, Megumi picks up the pace and rubs quick circles against your clit before pushing your legs off his shoulders and splaying your thighs. Long and harder strokes leave his pelvis smacking your clit, and your head leans back in pleasure at the sensation of his cock smacking into that rough patch over and over.

“Yea angel… cum.. Please– cum on my cock”

As if his words could force the action, the coil building in your gut inevitably snaps and you lean your head into the carpet of his floor and moan out his name.

“Y-Yea.. Just like that.. Fuck.. Y/N.. gonna fucking c-cum” A few more erratic thrusts and Megumi shudders as he cums hot ropes of semen into the rubber of the condom, admiring the cream of your orgasm getting pushed up his shaft to sit at the base. The sight, sound, and smell are so errotic there’s nearly a haze in the atmosphere from the intensity of it all.

Megumi thrusts a few more times with a weak exhale before slipping out of your cunt and hunching over on his knees to slip the condom off. You wearily look around and wince at the empty feeling before sitting up and wiping a few drops of sweat off your tits.

“Oh sorry,” Megumi tosses the soiled rubber into his bedroom trash and rubs the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, “didn’t mean to drip on you.”

“Hah, it’s alright. Just help me up and we’ll be even.”

Nearly in a mirrored pose reversing the roles of you both today, Megumi pulls you by the hand to stand upright and supports your waist when you nearly topple over. A chaste kiss against your temple, he sets you straight and pushes a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Let’s shower, yea?”

“Mmm good idea, we probably need it.”

Megumi takes a quick peek out of his room before swinging the door open wide and shuffling down the hallway and towards the bathroom with his hand in yours. Both dogs follow suit, but leave space for you to enter the washroom and shut the door.

You giggle slightly as the slight bruises from earlier litter his toned thighs, and Megumi bends at the waist to start the water of the shower and check the temperature. He ensures it’s not too hot and offers you a hand while you both step over the ceramic tub and behind the plastic curtain.

It’s a different level of intimacy than earlier, no longer sexual but still incredibly vulnerable and raw. Megumi wets his hair and shimmies to the side to let you do the same before passing various bottles of shampoo and soap to use; popping the cap, you inhale the familiar scent he usually wears.

“So… that was.. amazing.”

“I agree–” you rinse off soap suds from your arms, “–now what?”

“What do you mean?”

A slight burn goes across your cheeks as you shrug, it’s not like you had the what exactly are we? talk beforehand.

Megumi admires the way water cascades down your body and tilts his head to the side, “I was honest earlier when I said you’re more than just a friend to me… and I by no means see what we just did as casual. To be honest, it pisses me off to even think of this as being anything but exclusive.”

“Sooo.. you want to date? Like.. date-date?”

Megumi looks at you as if it were the simplest question possible, “I do. I want to go places with you and watch the way people look at us. To hear you introduce me to your friends as not just ‘Megumi’ but as your boyfriend.”

You nod in agreement, “I’d like that too.. Though I have a feeling you would rather call me angel.”

“Oh that..” Megumi coughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly before moving to change the conversation and stepping out of the shower, “is the water ok? I’ll step out and grab you some towels and a change of clothes.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you watch him shake his hair off from side to side like a dog and wrap a towel around his delicious ‘V’ line before stepping out of the bathroom. Enjoying the warmth of the water on your bullied skin for a few extra minutes, you stay behind the curtain before turning the faucet off and hearing a short courtesy knock at the door.

Megumi shuffles in, now dressing in casual athleisure, and uses a free leg to push the dogs back before placing a stack of towels on the counter and a fresh set of sweatpants and t-shirt on the toilet lid. Despite just seeing you naked, his eyes avoid looking at your body as you towel dry and slip into the clothes.

“Ok… I think I get it now–” He throws your towel on the corner of the door to try and admires his ‘veterinary department’ university t-shirt and JJK frat sweatpants on your frame, “the whole.. Wearing your partners’ clothes, thing.”

You smile at him and lean forward to meet his lips gently, his mouth immediately chasing yours as if he needed it to breathe and pouting once you exit and head down the hall. Christmas movie still playing on the TV, you plop down on the sofa and immediately curl into Megumi’s chest when he positions himself next to you.

Back against his chest, head on his collarbone, and legs intertwined with his, the both of you watch the cheesy film as a light snow and wind pick up outside the window. One of the dogs climbs up and rests on the empty sofa cushion next to both of you while the other lays in a ball at the base of the couch comfortably.

It’s a comfortable silence, and the steady beat of Megumi’s heart is nearly enough to lull you to sleep.

“Well? What do you think of this movie?”

Megumi shifts his weight and settles his hand just under your shirt to rub mindless patterns into the softness of your flesh, still relishing in the idea of having you all to himself, “I think I like them now.”

“Really?”

“Yea..”

You remain comfy in his arms before Megumi continues, “I guess I just never had anyone to relate them to, so I figured they were wild overestimations of how it would feel.”

“Hmm? How what would feel?”

Megumi stops tracing your waist and settles to squeeze your body further into his, almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

“This. Having someone.. Having you.”

You look up at his words and trace his jaw with your finger to usher him into your lips; he immediately connects them happily. Gently leaning in and feeling him stiffen at the action for a potential round 2, a loud grumble emits from your stomach.

“Whoops.. Hahah guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

Megumi genuinely laughs lightly and your heart melts at the sound as he sits upright, “Come on let’s eat then… I have to take you to that cafe.”

“The one we heard Yuji mention?”

Megumi rolls his eyes at your slight tease but smiles at you, “Yea, I actually had planned on taking you there on a date.”

“Well, you would be.”

Megumi keeps you trapped in his arms despite just proposing to get up and get food, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we’re dating, and you’d be taking me there.. so it’s a date.”

There’s a slight exhale that leaves his lips before he squeezes you just a bit tighter and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “mmm I guess you're right. It’s only fair to take my girlfriend out on a date.”

TY for reading the first installment of the Holiday Hoes! Frat AU JJK one shot series!!

most fics in this will be roughly this length and all in the same AU with some hints at the next few themes hidden in this one :)

writing megumi was lowkey harder than I thot, and i appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes

╰(´︶`)╯♡ -oatmeal

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