#Christmas dress ideas 2023

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Best Christmas Outfit ideas for 2023

❄️✨ Elevate your holiday wardrobe with our curated list of the Best Christmas Outfit Ideas for 2023! 🎉 From classic reds to winter whites, we've got the trends you need to sleigh this season. Explore the full collection at https://www.wikilearns.com/christmas-outfit-ideas

#ChristmasStyle #FashionInspo #SleighAllDay

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐉𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your boyfriend just wanted to give you an early Christmas present.

『Word count』 : 5.3k

-> Genre: Pure smut with little plot, hehe.

Pairing: Boyfriend!San x Reader [SeongJoong x Reader]

[Warnings] : Reader is insecure. Foursome. Powerplay. Pet names [Angel, Bunny, Baby, Sweet Thing.] Light Choking. Kissing, Neck kisses. Body worship. Anxious thoughts. Some self-doubt, but the boys take lots of care of the reader. Possessive San. Voyeur San. Seonghwa likes to call reader whore but in a sweet way. Spanking. Dom!SeongSanJoong. Unprotected sex. Very subby Reader. Subspace. Dry humping. Oral. Use of the word slut. Daddy kink. MxM. San is secretly a switch/bottom. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Squirting. Brat taming. Sharing is caring. Dirty talk. Deep throating. I was drunk when I wrote half of this, so bare with me...

Note: Hi, Hi! Ahh, this fic is finally done. Hehe. I spent early hours in the morning, and one night after, i drank way too much vodka heh. So if there is anything weird. Uhh, blame drunk me. Also! This is most likely the last fic I'll be posting for 2023. So that's crazy. I'll still be around but I'm going to a wedding, so I won't be near my computer. Ahhh

Also, thank you so much to the wonderful @fandems for helping make this masterpiece come to life. I hope you enjoy the read, darling. ♡♡

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“Okay, okay. I’ll be there soon.” You hummed hearing your boyfriend whine about how much he misses you and how he wanted to see you try on the hoodie in person. He and the others were currently staying at some hotel just outside Seoul for a shoot they were doing, and his mom had brought hoods she made with each of their names on it. Of course, she made one for you as well. Saying it was not up for debate even though you tried to decline, saying it was just ‘for the boys’.

“Please hurry. I miss you so much.” His blunt whimpers caused a stir in your tummy when you first heard them. You had to stop yourself from complaining about how he was making you wet from his voice alone. So, instead, you thought it would be cute to dress up a bit. Wear something a little more revealing. A nice crop top and shorts. Yes, that was a nice idea. Of course, since it was cold out and you weren't about to walk around Seoul in next to nothing anyways, so, you covered yourself with a large overcoat that draped all the way for to your knees. It was an early Christmas gift from Hongjoong. Which made your heart flutter when he gave it to you. You didn’t expect a gift from any of the members, really. But when Hongjoong brought you the gift while you were cuddling with San on the couch in the studio, you couldn’t help but blush. Or another time when he and Seonghwa brought you food when you were sick when they dropped off San at your apartment. Or when it was just the four of you chilling out at your place while watching a random film.

Everything just felt right.

You tried to hide your feelings towards the other two men, but it was growing harder after each interaction. They were so kind to you. They cared for you. And it made you feel like you were on cloud nine when they were around. San has made jokes in the past about you having a crush on his members, but you always brushed it off so he wouldn't feel bad. You love San, you really do. He was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But there was just something about Hongjoong and Seonghwa that you just couldn’t shake.

“Okay, I’m out the front. I’m gonna hang up now,” you said goodbye quickly before heading for the entrance of the hotel. San had already mentioned to the front desk clerk that you would show up, so they had a key waiting for you and everything. Standing in the elevator, you suddenly felt your nerves tingle. What if he just wanted to cuddle for a bit, give you the gift, and then kick you out. Or worse.. what if San wasn’t in the mood for some dirty antics?

Who are you kidding, he’s always in the mood.

But that still didn’t calm your shaky hands as you reached for the door handle while you scanned the key card against the lock. The room was silent.. the smell of musk caught your attention, making it known San had recently showered using the new body wash you had bought him. “H-Hello.”

You walked inside, locking the door behind you. Slipping off your shoes, you also placed your coat on the rack next to the entrance. Feeling the warmth of the hotel heating creep up on you. You walked slowly further into the little apartment. The only light was the ones from the city below and a side light next to a bed. Strange? “S-Sannie? Are you here…”

“Hello, angel.” A deep chuckle caught you off guard as a pair of hands gripped your waist suddenly. The light gasps that left your lips made the unknown male sigh in satisfaction, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You know his cologne. This voice. That chuckle.

“J-Joong?” You were shaking, but not out of fear but excitement. You felt like you had walked straight into a dream. A different reality even. You had to kick yourself for falling so quickly for the man who wasn’t your lover. Your eyes snapped open, and a breath was hitched. What were you doing?! you couldn’t do this. Not when you were with San. “Wait. Hongjoong.” You tried to pull out of Joong’s tight grasp, your voice sounding more stern and clear. 

“awe, come on, Angel. I’m only playing.” He let you go suddenly, letting the tension of your hips push you forward, tripping, until you slammed into something broad. A tall, warm body. Your hands gripped the man's shoulders while he pulled you flushed against his chest by your waist.

“S-San…” You whimper, feeling guilt cloud your judgment. Hot breath tickled your ear lobe before a deep voice sent shivers down your spine;

“Guess again, Bunny.” Your body completely tenses up hearing Seonghwa’s sombre smooth voice. The same voice he uses when he makes the calming ASMR videos. God, you could fall asleep peacefully to this man just simply talking. Or humming. Wait, no, stop.

“W-Where’s San. He needs to give m-me─A personalized hoodie.” Your words get cut off by none other than your lover, San. His ravenous chuckle made your mouth water. What were these three trying to do to you? Send you into an early grave. “I thought we could have a little fun before I give you the gift.”

You can hear lusts dripping from his voice. But yet you still couldn’t see anything. Your eyes have not adjusted to the dark room, but San was clearly behind you while your face and body were still firmly against Seonghwa’s chest. “We want the city to see just how good you can be.” Seonghwa sounded more dominant than San. His alluring aura made you want to stink to your knees and do whatever he wished. You were trembling against him, which he no doubtfully felt. And without a word being spoken. He let you go, leaving you standing, alone, in the dark. You were about to protest when all of a sudden you felt familiar arms snake around you, pulling you flush against him. San nuzzled his face in your neck, giving you some light kisses, trying his best to calm your nerves. 

In truth, San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had many conversations about you. One more dirtier than the last. It first started with San gloating about how you were so good for him. How you would walk around in nothing but his hoodies and how he always got a nice look at your plump ass. Another time, he brought up the fact that you were an excellent dick sucker. He swore he could nut just from your mouth alone. This, of course, made the other men jealous. How dare San have you all to himself when they all know very well the way you look at them. The way your thighs clench whenever Hwa or Joong would accidentally touch you. You were just as needy as they were. “You gonna be a good girl, baby?”

San’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking a harsh purple mark. You still couldn’t see your surroundings, but you could feel, other than San's hands that were still on your waist, another pair of hands gripped a hand full of your plump thighs. You felt a whimper brew in your throat as San’s hands snaked up towards your chest, letting his fingertips graze just under your breasts. The unknown male's set of hands that were still perched on your thighs slowly moved upwards until they were tugging your legs apart, slowly tugging your shorts off. The dark chuckle from below made you realize the man who was holding your legs was crouched in front of you. With his head so close to where you need care the most. “S-Sann..”

“Uh, Uh. Answer the question, baby. Are you going to be a good girl for all three of us?” His hot breath tickled your earlobe, making your mind spin. Your hand reached down, finding a soft head of fluffy locks, your fingers tangling in them, pulling him closer to your heated core. Your other hand grasps San’s shoulder, pushing him towards your neck once more. 

“Please, sir.” You whined loudly, earning a groan from all three men, making you realize the last male was also standing behind you. San mutters something you didn’t bother listening to as suddenly felt a set of teeth bite down on your inner thigh, making you gasp in a high pitch. “Oh my god!”

The man between your legs snickered, pulling your panties to the side so he could press his nose against your soaked cunt. “That’s right bunny. I’m your god.” Seonghwa’s voice was so deep, filling with lust at each breath. You had to moan from his words, knowing full well how much of a god complex Seonghwa had. Your fingers tugged tighter on his hair, earning a low growl from that man. You were about to say something but your voice got caught in your throat as San’s hand wrapped perfectly around your neck, squeezing tight enough that it got your head spinning.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a god Seonghwa.” San’s cheeky mumble caused the man between your legs to huff, rolling his eyes as he went back to licking a strip along your fold. His fingers play with your entrance, pushing his tongue against your sensitive clit making you gasp out yet again, ‘Oh my god’, which made Seonghwa chuckle lowly.

“She says differently there, Sannie.” The vibration of Seonghwa’s voice made you clench around his lone finger. San’s hand got tighter around your neck, pulling you backwards so you were bent in a weird position, looking at San with a shocked expression. 

“Baby. Don’t start being a brat. I’m your sir, and this is Hwa and Joong. Go it!” He spat out, annoyance lacing on his tongue. Your hazy eyes looked up at him with sorrow. You pouted slightly, knowing exactly how to play San’s games.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me.” You whimpered trying to keep your eyes open but it was becoming increasingly harder as you feel Seonghwa add another finger into your wet pussy. San just scoffed before telling Seonghwa to move. You cried from the loss of contact but since Hwa is such a people pleaser, he slowly kissed up your body, collar and neck before whispering in your ear;

“Don’t worry my obedient little whore. I’ll treat you soon enough.” San didn’t respond this time, just scoffing before letting you go. Your knees buckled trying to keep yourself upright. But a new pair of hands grabbed you, letting you lean against a hard chest. 

“Hey there, angel, ready for some fun?” Hongjoong’s voice was higher pitched than the others, but it still held the same authority if not more. You nodded with a quick ‘yes’ letting the male chuckle at how obedient you are. San had turned on the bedside lamps, letting the dim orange hue shine through the room, letting you see the three men for the first time tonight. Seonghwa’s hair was a mess from your fingers, lips glistening from your slick. God, as if he couldn’t get any more hot, there he was in all his egotistical glory. 

“Baby. Stand you for us. And take off your shirt.” San said, nonchalantly, while downing a glass of liquor from the dry bar in the corner of the hotel room. You gulp slowly, taking off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. You became all too aware that you were only in your underwear in front of three very powerful men. You weren’t the thinnest either, so your insecurities started being placed on full alert. Seonghwa seemed to notice first, moving so he was flushed against you, chest to chest. he gave you the warmest smile before dipping his head in closer. His nose was grazing against yours, his lips almost close enough to touch. You had no idea if you were allowed to kiss him or Hongjoong, but given his face was between your legs only minutes ago, what harm would it entail?

Seonghwa gave you a surprised groan as he felt your plump lips. His tongue slipped effortlessly into your mouth like it was made to do just that. You could taste yourself on him, which caused a whimper to escape. His hands gripped your bare hips tightly, holding you so close that you could feel his bulge against your thigh. San was watching the situation unfold in front of him, biting his bottom lip at just how submissive you can quickly become around the three of them. How almost normal it felt. San gave a little whistle for Hongjoong to join in, while he took a seat on a large seat that sits by the window, gifting him the perfect view of the show you were so eagerly putting on. 

“Play nice with her. Or I’ll never let you touch her again.” San’s voice was stern and controlling. But man, did it make you shiver. You knew if you wanted to be rough or slow you would use your safe word or the traffic light system and you were also damn sure that San drilled it into the other two’s heads before this little ordeal. So you knew you were in a completely safe environment, and this was all for the thrill. 

“You hear that, Bunny. Sannie thinks we can’t play nice.” Seonghwa mumbles against your lips before moving down to kiss your cheek, jaw, and neck.

“He thinks we’re gonna get too rough with you.” Hongjoong grabs a fist full of your breasts squeezing tightly, drawing out a choked moan from you. His lips grazed your ear before biting softly on your ear lobe. Your nerves felt like they were on fire with the way these two tag teamed you. Like they had practised many times for this moment. “But you like it rough don’t you, angel?”

“Yeah, you like it when you're manhandled. Thrown around like a pleasure whore. Hmm?” Seonghwa nipped at your collarbone causing a yelp to escape you. The two of them just chuckled, knowing exactly how to tease you from hearing detail after detail of San explaining how much of a subby little fuck toy you are for him. 

"Please, Da-Hongjoong... touch me." You whimpered, almost calling him something other than his name. Even though San said not to call them anything other than what he gave you. Yet you had the biggest urge to disobey.

"But am I touching you, angel?" Hongjoong knew what he was doing. He needed you to break, spill all your dirty secrets out before he touched you. But Seonghwa, on the other hand, all he wanted to do was make you squirm until overdrive. His hands gripping at any part of exposed flesh, his hot tongue licking along your neck, while he suckles yet another red and purple mark. You were most certain that you had leaked through your panties and down your leg by now. Your brain clouded, and all judgement slipped slowly into your subspace as two pairs of lips find the most sensitive spots on your neck and collarbone.

“F-Fuckk.” You swore, tilting your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder. Seonghwa’s hand dipped into the top of your panties siding his fingers down through your soaking cunt. Hongjoong on the other hand, tugged on your bra until your breasts spilled out the top of it. His fingers pinched your peaked nipples while Seonghwa start to slowly fuck two fingers in you, stretching you out nicely. Both men didn’t stop their assault on your neck, littering your skin with bright marks and bites. You hazily hummed, opening your eyes to see San sitting with his lips parted and his hand palming his crotch. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Such a potty mouth, Bunny.” Seonghwa laughed pushing a third finger inside you while his palm rests on your clit perfectly. “I wonder what other filthy things you can say sweet things.”

“Oh, she can say many filthy things.” San’s voice made you jump, not realizing you had your eyes closed and San had moved to stand next to you, completely trapping you in the middle of all three of them. “You just gotta know what buttons to press.” 

San gripped Seonghwa’s wrist, tugging it out of your cunt making you yelp. His hands grabbed your hips before literally ripping your panties to shreds, letting the pieces of fabric fall to the floor. San’s hand gave your ass cheek as loud, harsh slap making you fall forward towards the perfectly made bed. “Come on baby. Shake that pretty thing for us.” You lazily wiggle your ass, letting the three men stare at your plump cake and leaking cunt. You felt humiliated in the best way possible, wanting nothing but the approval of the men behind you.

San stood behind you, pressing his clothed crotch against your ass, grinding slowly. You choked, feeling the rough fabric of his pants against your skin. His fingers gripping your waist tight enough, it threatened to draw blood, while his hips pulled away before snapping back on your ass. He was thrusted against you dry. Railing you up, causing you to slip into your subspace. “What do you need, baby? Tell us what you want.” He thrusted with. Every. Word.

“I w-wan…” You whimper, feeling tears swell in your eyes, your fingers tangling into the white sheets. “I want you, sir, please.”

A sharp pain shot down your nerves as you felt Sans's hand smack your ass. “You can do better. What. Do. You. Want. Slut.” He pushed two fingers into your pussy making you cry out, shaking at the sudden pleasure.

“I-I want cock please sir. I want to be fucked so badly.” All three men groaned at your filthy cry. Not just asking for San but to just be fucked in general. “I want to be full so badly.”

“See, what wasn’t so hard now, was it.” San snaked his fingers in your hair, yanking your head upwards. You yelped at the slight pain, your arms shaking, trying your best to keep yourself up. “Now the real question is. Which cock you want first?”

“Daddy…” You gaze at the two men standing by the window on your left-hand side. Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised while Hongjoong had the most sadistic smile you’d ever seen. San looked over to them, confused for a moment, feeling a little bit of rage but yet a hint of curiosity. Hongjoong scoffed, clicking his tongue before he started to undo his belt. San tugged you by the hair, so you were standing completely straight up. His hot breath against your earlobe before he gave your ass one more final slap, then squeeze. If you were going to play a bratty game. Then a bratty game it shall be.

“Okay, baby. You want his cock, then you can have it…” His hand snaked back around your throat choking you harshly. “But if you call him daddy one more time, I’ll grab that vibrator I know you have in your backpack and leave it on you until you learn your lesson. Got it.”

You nodded like an idiot, whining just wanting to be filled. But at the same time, San’s empty threat sounded so very tempting. Sadly, before you could say anything, San twisted you around until you fell on your back on the bed. Hongjoong was on you in seconds. His face is inches from you, with the same sadistic smile painted on it. “Hi there Angel…” He kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear. “Don’t worry, Darling, Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His voice was low enough that San would only be able to hear mumbles, which caused him to roll his eyes with what felt like the millionth time tonight. Seonghwa, of course, noticed, letting out a laugh.

“Lighten up, Sannie. Share some of the reins. It’ll be more enjoyable.” Seonghwa grabbed the younger male's shoulders, pushing his fingers into his deep neck tissue, feeling his muscles so tense and tight. San closed his eyes for a moment, finally relaxing against the older man. You watched the whole situation unfold, making your head spin. The boys all cared for one another so much and looked out for one another. You felt your heart swell.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweet thing. I want you to look at me while I ruin you.” Your gaze snapped back to him instantly, biting your lip while your brows knitted together. You felt his cock rubbed against your dripping folds, making you forget the other two that stood next to the window. “That’s it, baby. Deep breath.”

You did as you were told, taking in a sharp breath as you felt Hongjoong ease inside you. He wasn’t as long as San, but his girth was something else. He felt like you were being stretched to the breaking point, turning your already mushy brain into more mush if that was even possible. “Hongjoong!!”

His pace was unforgiving, snapping his hips against you without a second thought. He did not wait for you to get used to him, making his thrust mix with the best kind of pain and pleasure. Your mouth hung open with drool pooling on your right side while you moan uncontrollably. You tried your best to keep your eyes open but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you was making it hard. You didn’t even notice the bed dipping until you saw a washed-out red hair sitting above you. He leaned down giving you a drawn-out kiss while Hongjoong’s hips snapped against you with fury and determination as he fell forward to case your right nipple in his hot mouth. You felt like you were going to explode within seconds. “You gonna cum for Joong bunny?” 

Seonghwa’s voice stirred you forward feeling a sharp burn snap in your gut as his fingers attach to your clit and his lips to your nipple. You’ve never felt so overstimulated in one moment, having three pairs of hands groping, squeezing and teasing any and all parts of your body. Three mouths licking, sucking, and biting you like you were their last meal on earth. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the sudden gush of liquid that slipped out of you, screaming into San’s mouth, sounding like a pathetic porn star. “Fuck did you just squirt?” Hongjoong was the first to speak slowing his thrusts for a moment.

“She did, look the bed is covered.” Seonghwa chuckled.

“Such a good girl. Now you gonna take Joongie’s cum hmm?” San didn’t need to see the other two men’s expressions to know their excitement just grew about a million percent. Hongjoong had to snap his cock back inside you just at the thought.

“Really San? You’ll let us come in your girl?” Hongjoong sounded like he was asking a completely mundane question and not currently balls deep inside of you. San gave you one slap quick peck on the lips as if he was checking in on you without needing to say anything. He could see the sparkle in your eyes, giving him the okay to answer.

“Oh course. Sharing is caring.” 

Everything happened so fast. You couldn’t even tell whose hands were whose. Your body was flipped around until your legs dangled on the end of the bed and Hongjoong was back pushing into your sensitive puffy pussy. He crossed his arms over to grab your hips, holding you firmly as he fucked you hard, quick and desperately. Trying to chase his own high. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Hongjoong was so close he just needed a little more, just a little push. And then you clenched hard around him, feeling you about to come again making him choke as he suddenly stop his thrusts, spilling his hot cum deep into your cunt. “Oh fuck. This is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“I know, right? And no matter how many times you fucker her. She’s still so needy.” San prided himself in his stamina and when he found out you could go for multiple rounds, it was like a match made in heaven. “Step aside, Joong, I need to feel my baby's cunt.”

A panting Hongjoong pulled out of you slowly, feeling you clench. He groaned, seeing his cum mix with yours as it spilled out of your pussy and down your leg. San was quick to pull you up, walking you over to the chair by the window. He sat down letting you fall onto his lap. You whined, fingers tangling into his shirt. “T-too clothed sir.”

“Hmm, what’s that doll? Am I too clothed for you?” San giggled, tilting his head back as you nodded your head. he held your face, kissing you deeply while mumbling against your lips, “Okay then, baby.”

He turned you around in his lap so your back was against his chest. Your gaze scanned the room seeing Hongjoong laying down on the couch, his cock stuffed by him his sweats but Seonghwa on the hand was stalking his way towards you and San, tugging his shirt off. Neither man had to say another word as San tilted you forward, making you place your hands on his knees. Your face was eye leveled with Seonghwa’s aching clothed crotch, while you could hear San remove his clothes. Seonghwa grabbed your chin, making you look up between your lashes at the older male. His smirk sent shivers down your spine, “Gonna let me fuck your mouth like a good obedient little whore?” 

“Yes, please, Sir.” A loud slap echoed in the room as you let out a yelp. San’s hand rubs your raw ass, smoothing your hot skin. 

“What d-did I say?” San growled.

You looked over your shoulder quickly, seeing San’s eyes were almost pitch, pooling with lust. You gave him a small simple smile before looking back to Seonghwa. “Please. May I please have your cock… Sir.” 

“Fucking brat.” San stood up, gripping your hips tightly, bending you so you could place your hands on the arms of the chair. San gave your ass another harsh slap making you cry, tears swelling down your cheeks. “You want to be a brat. I’ll fuck you like one.”

He sunk into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You screamed, dropping your head while you moaned San’s name over and over against with each sharp, brutal thrust. Your nails dug into the chair, eyes shut tight. Every nerve in your body was on fire, feeling San’s big cock abuse your cervix. “Fuck, sir! Please. So big. Fuck. So full.”

“What? Cock drunk already? Too stupid to form a sentence anymore?” San mocked you, placing a hand on your shoulder, while the other stayed firmly on your hip. He pushed you up slightly, whistling slightly. You didn’t understand what was going on but the next thing you knew was feeling Seonghwa take a seat on the chair in front of you, his hard cock lying against his bare chest. Your eyes grew wide, he was longer and thicker than Hongjoong and San.

“Open wide, Bunny.” You gazed up at him for a moment, seeing a smirk painted on his perfect face. You spread your legs wider, so you’d be levelled with Seonghwa. San let go of your shoulder, stilling his hips so you could take Seonghwa’s cock in your mouth. You tried your best not to gag, gripping tightly onto his thighs while San started to grind his cock against you again once you could take at least half of him. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good Bunny. So warm.”

“Oh, Just wait-fuck..till you feel her cunt.” San smirked.

“Like I said best pussy I’d ever had.” Hongjoong laughed from afar, most likely still on the bed, watching. Seonghwa threw his head back losing himself in the feeling of your mouth, while San’s thrusts began to get unstable feeling his orgasm creeping closer. He snaked a hand under you to rub your clit, trying to get you to come first. He needed you to come first, he needs to feel you let go and cream around his cock before he could pump you full.

“Come on baby, can you... f-fuck, can you cum for me. I need you to let go, baby.” San was mumbling, losing himself with the feeling of your soaked cunt clenching around his aching cock. You were crying around Seonghwa’s cock, making the vibration down his shaft cause him to buck his hips into you. Everything is so overwhelming, being filled by two men at the same time, while both being lost in pleasure from the feeling of your body. It made you dizzy as he squirted all over San, legs shaking and knees buckling. San came soon after, holding your hips in place so you wouldn’t fall. He swore, feeling his cum leak out around his cock as all the liquid pooled on the floor.

“Fuck, Bunny.” Seonghwa gripped your shoulders, tugging you off himself. San slipped out of you, sidestepping to take Seonghwa’s place in the chair, racking his hands through his sweaty, wet hair. Seonghwa manhandled you to lean against the window. Your nipples chilling to the cold temperature of the glass. Your hands sat flat on the window as Seonghwa laced his fingers with yours. He slowly glided his cock through your dripping folds before sinking right into your sensitive cunt with a groan. His pace was slow, calculated. You’ve never had a cock as big as Seonghwa and it was hitting all the right spots perfectly with each thrust. It didn’t take you long to feel the tinge in your gut again, already so oversensitive from being fucked twice already.

“Sir please I’m gonna cum again.” you completely forgot about San’s rule but no one seemed to notice except for Seonghwa, which made his ego grow more than he’d like to admit. Fucking your hard against the glass for all the city to see...

“Well go on. Cum like a little whore on my cock bunny. Cum while watching the city lights.” Seonghwa’s filthy words were just the right amount to send you over the edge, clamping down hard on his cock. He pulled out of you mid-high causing your body to shake in pain but you didn’t have any time to say anything, as he pushed right back in with a harsh slam, biting down on your shoulder.

You screamed. He came quicker than he would have liked, but the feeling of your cunt was too much for him. Everything went still, the only thing heard was heavy panting and racing hearts. Your mind was too hazy to register the two men helping you to the bed, laying you down where Hongjoong had been. You vaguely could see all three of them standing half-dressed and a mess, at the end of the bed, staring at you. They all thought how beautiful you looked and how well you did for them. And from that day on they knew their relationship with you was going to be completely different and none of them minded one bit.

San might have also ‘forgotten’ the next morning to give you the personalized hoodie so you would have to go back and get it. But not before himself, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had another round with you.

- ♡

[iznsfw]

Ms. Kang Hyewon

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 3 - Kang Hyewon

IZ*ONE's Kang Hyewon x Male Reader Smut

9,122 words

Categories | femdom, mommy kink, degradation, angry sex, choking

Content warning | blackmail, degradation, Hyewon isn't so innocent here

Well, well, well, look who came back with Day 3.

My promise remains. Expect more, but on separate days. I won't run away with your money like a certain pre-

Thread isn’t claustrophobic. It slips through spaces not even your fingernail could pierce apart. Effortlessly, too. It isn’t afraid of being knotted up. It just needs guidance: a pinch to lead it through the eye and a pull to seam it through the hem. 

You wish you wielded the same fearlessness. It’s thinner and more fragile than you (highly debated) yet it’s hardened to its life. The only thing you’re granted as a similarity to it is the need for guidance, not all of that shit about courage. 

Maybe that’s why you became a fashion designer. 

Needles have their own strengths, too. They’re not cowards to inflicting pain for aesthetics. Why do you think they stab so effortlessly through fabric and silk and skin and whatnot? They sharpen themselves through softness, and all that edge goes straight into the process.

And sometimes, your fingers.

“Fuck.” Your reverie is broken at last. From your thumb, a trail of red leaks. You’re used to the minor cuts and wounds, but the blood really does something to you. It reminds you of how fragile human anatomy is. One uncalculated move can end it all. 

“You good?” asks Eunbi. 

Suck on your thumb. A metallic taste settles over your tongue. She peers at you curiously; wave your hand at her dismissively to tell her it’s fine. This is everyday for you, like you said. Your heart will pump anxiously but that goes away, too. It’s all a vestige of time.

Flatten the vest top on the table. Wait, it’s not exactly a top yet if fringes of thread splay from the edges. You still have to work on that. Nothing is something when it’s not completed. It’s either you finish it grandly or leave it in pathetic tatters. 

“You sure you're okay?”

“Just a little nervous,” you reply. 

“I mean,” Eunbi laughs as she fixes her short hair into a ponytail, “she is Kang Hyewon.”

Not that she needs to remind you. Your nerves are in a wreck already. You’ve been replaying the pros of the situation in your head like a favorite song. Working for Hyewon would look good in your resumés. If time sees fit, you’d have your own line and everyone would want to wear it. Your name could be a staple of fashion, the god of gods. Something like that.

It only sucks that you’re painfully new to this world. This is the first time you’re this far from your family and friends. Seoul’s a far cry from your humble town. It’s the home of everything that matters. Nights of staying up drawing and designing couldn’t harden you for an industry that sways and shakes out the unfit.

This is your chance to find out if you’re one of them.

“The superstar who’s about to wear my shitty clothes.”

“They’re anything but shitty. You have seriously good ideas.” Always, Eunbi comes in to reassure you. That’s why you see her as a mentor. “She wouldn’t turn down wearing couture if she didn’t see potential in what you make.”

See, you would never have agreed to any of this. You’re a fresh graduate from some fashion school, and the only models you’ve worked on are the runway rejects. Fixing a sloppy first draft on a stick-thin, soulless girl is different from designing and dressing up Kang Hyewon. 

She’s everything—model, actress, singer, and idol. She’s a gem for every brand out there. They’re all dying to get her to be their ambassador. Every director with a complete brain wants to cast her for their new drama. 

And it’s her who can lift you to heights in your career. So you’d be an idiot not to seal the deal.

“Have you worked with her before?”

As your needle sews a story of fabric, Eunbi’s words whittle her story with Hyewon. Turns out, this is only her second time working with the star. She confirms that Hyewon is truly gorgeous in person with those god-given full lips and hardset eyes. 

Apparently, first impressions are right after all when it’s with her—she’s a silent, withholding woman who doesn’t talk outside of necessity. Eunbi tells you her nerves were in knots the first time, but also informs you that as long as you do your job for her properly, there isn’t gonna be any problem.

“Just be careful in what you do and say,” Eunbi whispers. She peeks over at your nearly finished piece. “That’s turning out really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.” 

Look proudly at your handiwork. It’s a sleeveless top fashioned from denim, with a V-shaped curve at the stomach. You’ve attached strips of more denim on the front that are sewn on with threads that match the blue of the ocean, embedded into the chest to prevent dullness. You think it’s turning out pretty good, too.

You would’ve gone on smiling if it weren’t for what you remembered. “Wait, why do I have to be careful?”

“She’s not, like, shy or anything. Just really unfiltered when it comes to feedback. She told me the eyeliner I did on her was shit, and that I shouldn’t come back if I planned on doing that again.”

Doubts about the beauty of your design rise. It might look good in your eyes, but what if it doesn’t in hers? She’d probably see the lack of color and call it a monstrosity. She’s got the type of power to get away with brutal words, to leave your little self-confidence in pieces.

The leg-hugging jeans and vest now look painfully average to you. There’s no debating that she’d look good in it, but there’s that constant back-and-forth argument in your head about whether or not Hyewon would like it. 

“Were you hurt?” you ask.

Eunbi wipes red lipstick from the edges of her mouth with the mirror’s reflection as guidance, then smiles. “She’s the kind of woman I’d let do more than hurt me.”

-

You don’t know what that was about, but you’re not one to pry. You don’t have the time anyway.

Assistants have poured into the room. It’s your sign to put in more work—their arrival means that Hyewon is about to come very soon. They’re all dressed in their uniforms, the kind that looks good but not too good that it takes away the fact that they’re just staff. 

Eunbi shifts her weight from one stiletto to another. “Are you done?” she asks. She gazes over at your sewing as she taps anxious rhythms on the vanity table. Notice how she’s taken off her acrylics and in turn shows her cruelly bitten fingernails. 

You huff. “I’m trying.” 

Stick a red-studded pin through the denim to keep the vest in place. What shade of blue did you use again? Staring for lengthy minutes at your messy table doesn’t help you find it. Your chalks have left pink powder on the wood. Your threads are unspooled and everywhere. In the midst of it all, the star’s vest sits, still waiting to be finished. 

“She’s getting here in five!” Yena shouts.

“Any updates there?” Eunbi says pleadingly to you, eyes full of tears.

“I said I’m trying, Eunbi.”

“Then try harder, fuck!” 

Her hands have abandoned their rhythms and are squeezed up into tiny, helpless fists. She keeps peeking out of the dressing room as if she’d die on the spot if Hyewon were there already. This is the first time you’ve seen Eunbi this beside herself. Even her crew is shocked. Her fear infects them too and now all sets of scared eyes are on you. They’re depending on your speed for their careers. If you fall short, they fall short, too. It’s a domino effect of failure. 

Yena pushes aside the hangers of clothing to frisk for the makeup kit. Chaeyeon has her hands in her air while Minju whimpers behind her. They all know one thing for sure: you’re never gonna finish on time.

Your needle fits and slips, fits and slips, fits and slips—

“Can’t you go any faster?” cries out Eunbi.

The thread almost pulls the rest of the fabric along it when you pull furiously. “Unless you want me to get stabbed in the fucking wrist,” you say, “I can’t.”

You prick yourself multiple times trying to speed up. Push the layered denim down. It’s like drowning a needle, letting it go up from the waves of clothes for air, then drowning it again. However, you don’t care for any casualties right now. You don’t care for deaths either. All you want is to do is finish this piece.

You hear three short knocks on the door. Your world stops, but your sewing doesn’t. You can do this. You can still make it look somehow finished. 

“Ms. Kang!” 

Curl.

Thread. 

Knot.

You’re done. It’s safe to turn around.

All of the women along with Eunbi have bowed deeply. Standing in front of them is the straight-postured form of the adored celebrity. The assistants look like they’re an estranged cult of some sorts who’s worshiping a goddess who’s come to earth.

Strangely, you find out that, as you stare at Kang Hyewon, you understand.

You can now grasp the idea why she’s ventured into so many fields: she can do it all. She can be it all.

Her hair is as black as night, and so are her irises. Her expression tells you no background, not even of a troublesome drive or a good meal. No, not any of that, for Hyewon’s face is a serious little look of professionalism. It’s the kind people of her status wear—celebrated doctors, movie stars, activists. But for some reason, it looks so much hotter on her. 

It would take skilled mathematicians and scientists to find out what’s behind her neutral expression, but it doesn’t take a degree to know that she’s downright beautiful.

The pictures her dedicated fansites take of her truly don’t do justice to her attractiveness. Her face is smaller than a child’s. The nonchalant stare in her eyes makes her look out of this world, which could be said too for her preppy clothes. She’s a fashion icon for the younger generation after all.

A natural pair of plump lips doesn’t show a sign of a smile. Nevertheless, she’s a beautiful woman. You assume that it’s how it is for her everyday, just like drawing is your daily routine.

“Hello.” Hyewon’s voice is surprisingly feminine yet husky. She looks at you all indifferently, then places her bag on a nearby chair. Each action of hers is minimal and measured.

“Would you like to get dressed, Ms. Kang?” asks Eunbi, her voice a pitch too high.

She nods.

You hand over the jeans and shirt. Make a beeline for the exit. There’s a reason why an all-female staff was hired for Hyewon. You were taught in school that you best not dress them up directly if they’re a celebrity and you aren’t known in the industry yet. There’s all the reason to fear: hidden cameras and microphones, leaked footage, the like. While you’re not a man whose intentions are dark, you still follow protocol.

“What are you running away for?” 

Your shoes stop paving the way to the door. Was that Hyewon? “What?” you say.

Eunbi winces. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. You don’t state that in that tone to a woman of that class.

Hyewon sighs audibly. “Can you look me in the eyes when I talk to you?”

You’re cold yet trepidation prickles your skin like fire. Slowly, almost comically, turn around. Her coat is off, leaving her in a skirt and a sleeveless undershirt on which she’s crossed her arms above. So how can you look at her directly? That body of hers is shockingly easy on the eyes.

“You’re the fashion designer, right?” she asks. 

Smile awkwardly. “I, uh—”

“Then why are you leaving? Come over here and help me. I want to see if you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m, a little, uh, actually—”

“You’re actually what?”

Your mouth’s dry. Eunbi and her crew look too scared to remind her that you’re an amateur. You haven’t dressed up a star and you definitely aren’t a professional. 

But what can you do? Look at her—a woman who could crumble your career into shards if she said so and blacklist you from the industry forever—and tell her no? 

So, you approach.

Is it a blessing that you’re granted the honors of removing her underclothes? Or a curse? 

As you undress her, you’re given the affirmation that her body is more than easy on the eyes. It’s fucking to die for. Her waist isn’t concerningly tiny, but shows a defined curve that elevates to her torso. Her breasts are large for her frame, barely fitting the size of her lace bra.

“Woah, what are you doing?” you say, eyes wide at Eunbi suddenly unclasping said bra. You feel like a Victorian man catching sight of ankles.

Eunbi looks confused. “Didn’t you say a bra would ruin the look? And that we should use nipple tape?”

Hyewon stares at her, then looks at you, waiting for an answer. 

“Oh, right.” You chuckle tensely. “Sorry.”

Your lips are pursed to keep you from hissing in embarrassment. Now you probably look like a creep. Your fright and wariness are taking control, and you have no idea what to do. 

You conveniently close your eyes when the bra’s taken off. Take the vest from Yena and raise it above Hyewon’s head. No matter what, you’ll keep your eyes up. Not below, where her breasts are sure to catch you off guard; not to the side, where they might be assuming you’re everything bad; but up. Nowhere else.

“It looks beautiful on you.” Minju’s smile is less nervous now that the job is done. 

Her remark is nothing short of the truth. The garment slips onto Hyewon’s body like water. The defined carve of her clavicle stands out above the conservative neckline. Still, her bare arms alone will already have people thinking of something. The jeans accentuate her slim long legs elevated by a pair of expensive heels. She doesn’t need makeup to look good in what you sewed for her. Her body and face do the job. 

Hyewon doesn't respond to the compliment. She simply sits down on the swivel makeup chair, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone. Her thumbs twiddle with a game you’ve seen her advertise before. She’s true to her endorsements.

Minju carefully fills the brims of her eyelids with sharp cat eyeliner. Hyewon still doesn’t look up from her phone. You guess she’s used to people adapting to her and not the other way around. 

You like the touch of the fierce red lipstick Eunbi applies on her later on. It’s a bold statement, something that goes like: It’s me, Kang Hyewon; this is the face of a woman who can destroy you, and I promise that you’ll love it.

“You look great, Ms. Kang,” Eunbi compliments her cheerfully, clicking the lipstick back.

Hyewon stares at herself in the mirror. She’s a silent observer, taking in her reflection and studying it closely. 

A lunar eclipse personified, a smile stretches on her lips that releases your held breaths. “I know.”

-

Mirrors lined with shining diamonds. Words that spell the house of fashion emblazoned in lights. Expensive makeup behind glass. Bags that are worth your tuition sitting on displayed pedestals as if they didn’t know their own worth. The event is a never-ending sea of vanity for the wealthy and the west. You can’t believe you’re playing a part in it, although you’re a sheep among well-dressed wolves.

Crowds of reporters and photographers wait at the main hall. There’s no questioning who they’re here for. Although Jang is undoubtedly a big name, so is Hyewon. They were right to recruit her. You’ve never seen a crowd this big, even for fashion. You wonder how much they paid her to be the ambassador. Must be millions when all the other houses are dying to have her. She doesn’t look like one who kindly allows lowballing.

Neither does this man. He’s grand in his custom Victoria Jang and shoes that have the glimmer of stars themselves as he stands at the center. He must be the MC; he has a name tag to his breast pocket and a mic in his fist.

“Dude, did you know Anya Taylor-Joy’s gonna be here?” Rafael tells you.

“The chick from that cool chess movie?”

“Yeah,” he replies. He gestures to the small screen that shows her holding a lipstick to her jaw. It would be hard to see it behind the scrambling reporters. Luckily, as the designer, you scored a nearby spot backstage. “Jennie, too!”

The two are gorgeous, but you’re honestly more interested in Hyewon. If people see she’s wearing your clothes, they’d want to hire you, too. She doesn’t follow the trend; she is the trend. Soon, you’ll see Korea filled with women wearing the same shirt, the same jeans, the same style…

“We’re proud to present Jang’s first store in Korea,” says the MC. Yep, you were right. “This is a monumental stepping stone for our founder, Ms. Jang Wonyoung. Please welcome her with a hearty applause!”

You know all about Jang Wonyoung. She’s a self-made woman whose passion for beauty got the attention of the public, especially the western world. She’s always busy despite her tender age of nineteen: performing onstage with her group IVE, traveling, founding a new school in meager areas. She’s almost at the same level as Hyewon in terms of stardom.

Wonyoung comes out from the background, dressed fashionably as always. A polite smile decorates her glossed lips. It’s caught by the flashes of cameras and the reporters’ cheers. 

“Hello, thank you for coming.” She brushes back her fringe and folds her hands. “Opening a branch here in my home is an achievement I’m forever grateful for. I would like to thank you all greatly for the success it’s brought about.

“Please,” she says, “take the time to immerse yourself in our array of products. Try a new trendy look with Jang Beauty—”

She extends an arm to the variety of products protected under firm glass. There’s powder, eyeliner, and blush. Actually, there’s a little of everything. There’s colors fit for every complexion, dark or light, and a palette of rainbows. 

“—or flaunt your own style with our new arrival bags and purses.”

See, they’re the bags which immediately give the impression of expensiveness. The accessories are reserved to warm or light hues accompanied with Wonyoung’s signature rabbit logo. One even features her signature, stylishly drawn on quality canvas.

“Our helpful staff are here to answer your questions and assist you, but for now, please meet our muses.”

The camera shutters multiply when Kim Jennie enters the frame. Another “it” girl, she’s from a globally loved K-pop group whose influence couldn’t be denied even by the worst liars. She made all the buzz for Jang when a news article that quoted Wonyoung’s adoration for her was released. As expected, social media received the news happily. They made parallels with Wonyoung and Jennie, created fan accounts, and bought from Jang, even if the house initially opened in the United States.

Wonyoung’s smile is wide. You think you see a little of yourself in her. There’s certain pride in seeing someone loved and adored wearing your design. 

Jennie waves briefly to the crowd before settling in a poised stride stage left.

Anya Taylor-Joy comes in next. Rafael makes a joke about how the press would have a difficult time trying to translate her name into Hangul characters correctly. She answers a question from the crowd sweetly with a translator’s help, and stands a yard from Jennie. Seeing the two women side by side stuns you—Jang really did emphasize how there’s beauty in everything and everyone, including those from different sides of the world. 

“And finally, we would like to present Jang’s new ambassador.” Wonyoung’s beaming positively. “Welcome to Jang, Kang Hyewon!”

Suppressed screams fill your ears. The women at the mall can’t believe a friendly outing to the mall grabbed them a chance to see her in person. She’s the kind of girl who’s everywhere, and still manages to make you look. To make you want to be her or be with her. Perhaps those two at the same time?

You stare at her. Hyewon is flawless. Her slight tan is a nice break from the whiteness of the cameras. Her eyes seem to single out everybody in the crowd. The ambassador stands next to Wonyoung, a hand on her own hip, and lets a slight Mona Lisa smile paint her face.

Perfection.

How does she do so little but still attract everyone? You’re not an exception. You find yourself forgetting that you made those clothes—she owns them now. They’ll be associated with her name and not yours. 

Do you even have a problem with that?

“Jang’s vision is to highlight beauty in everyone,” Wonyoung says. “Ms. Kang Hyewon is the perfect ambassador. She is an idol, singer, dancer, model, muse, and everything you can think of. She is the personification of beauty and versatility. We are proud to have her.”

You would be, too.

You were here to make a name for yourself, not fanboy over her. Here you are anyway doing it. 

Hyewon stands next to Wonyoung and nods humbly. “I’m honored to be named the ambassador for Jang.” She bows deeply. Her hands are together on her stomach. “Please expect more from us because we will deliver.”

Perhaps that’s a statement bolder than the red painted on her lips.

“To the name of beauty!” a reporter raises a glass and chugs it. You don’t know where that came from, but it draws collective giggles. 

Wonyoung laughs. “To the name of beauty!”

Hyewon jokingly raises an imaginary shot high in the air. The simplest actions don’t bar her from being beautiful. Just look at how her hair falls perfectly over gorgeous shoulders, how her hips stick out at the sides of the jeans—

How the sound of fabric ripping loudly stuns the crowd.

Your eyes go wide. The left strap of her top has torn apart. The two aidless halves collapse on the sides uselessly. The attire sags from the front and leaks the view of one of her breasts. Maybe they should have told her to keep the bra on—her left tit with nothing but nipple tape on is painfully shown off to hundreds of people. 

Hyewon’s eyes fill with alarm. All confidence is lost as she tries to cover her exposed breast up. But the deed is done. Worse, the flashes don’t stop. The photos will soon take to the internet and, regardless of her power to bend things to their will, can never truly be eradicated. The articles will go viral, too. No one will forget this moment of Kang Hyewon finally showing vulnerability.

“Ms. Kang—” Wonyoung says in a thin voice. She didn’t imagine this special day would take a drastic turn. She awkwardly laughs, because what else can she do? As rich as she is, she can’t pay a crazed scientist to implement a memory-erasing chip in these people’s brains. The event is officially ruined.

And it’s all your fault. 

Still, she generously steps in front of Hyewon to help. Similar to every attempt to salvage her dignity, it’s useless. The ambassador she relied so much on is already walking away. She’s leaving everything behind and won’t look back. Tonight is a night of many firsts, and right now, this is her first time retreating.

Aside from the sounds of phones and camcorders, all that’s left to hear is the furious clicking of Hyewon’s heels. Her strides are short and quick.

One step, five steps, ten steps… then thirteen.

It takes a total of thirteen steps for Hyewon to exit and come to you.

You couldn’t be an unluckier dead man.

-

Hyewon is the grim reaper. She wields fury instead of a scythe, wears now defective clothes instead of a dark cloak. The imminent loss of life is frightening regardless of being faced with a pretty woman. Anyone would get on their knees and resort to the unthinkable to experience this with the celebrity right now. So why are you as cold as a corpse?

“You.” 

One word is enough to make you want to die early.

You look forward while your steps go backward. Your feet can pave the longest reversed path and you’d still be left with no escape. Hyewon is faster than you are. The rest of the staff are in the crowd or in another room; they can’t help you. Nobody can tell her to stop. 

You doubt she’d listen anyway, and you know because you’re looking in her face: the face of death. Gone is the blasé mood surrounding her, the mystery in her that people would pray rosaries to venerate. What’s taken its place is an Ares-born wrath that’s at odds with her Aphrodite visuals. Her eyes are large with anger and short angry rasps leave her mouth. 

“Ms. Kang,” you say, your words a mute plea. “Really, I apologize—” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Hyewon’s forearm knocks into your neck and catapults you to the dressing room door. The wood gives way, much to your horror. You barely make it on the plush chair with how your feet struggle to keep upright. 

She looms over you hauntingly, tall in her black heels. It’s a reminder that she really is above you in everything: positions, status, wealth—

Intimacy? 

Why is she straddling you? You don’t know what you’re supposed to feel, much more where to look. Adding to her center literally being seated above your crotch, she didn’t even bother to fix her wardrobe malfunction. There’s no might left in you when her fingers curl into your collar and tighten it up to your neck. 

“You little shit.” She coils the fabric around your throat harder. Wracked coughs fight their way out of you. “An incompetent one, too. This is all your fault.”

Her voice is rougher when she’s angry. It’s like she has a switch that she clicks on and off to be what she has to be: the Kang Hyewon everyone idolizes; and the one people would be afraid of. It doesn’t take a wicked guess to figure which one you’re encountering now.

“Ms. Kang,” you say weakly, “please.” 

You inhale raggedly through your nose. Hate how comforting her expensive perfume is to your senses when she’s doing everything but making you at ease. Hate how attractive she is. Hate how you ruined the day that was supposed to change your life forever. Hate how a small part of you doesn't hate being under her. 

For others to understand you, they need to put themselves in your shoes. If an A-list star who’s as gorgeous as Hyewon was snugly seated on their lap, wouldn’t they feel the same? Wouldn’t they feel the stir in their pants, the heat in their chests?

You’re fucked in the head. But she is, too. You’re a match made in the depths of hell.

“I-I can explain.”

Your pulse beats beneath her palm. Its faltering rhythm brings cruel satisfaction to her, making her face spread into a wicked smile. 

As Hyewon’s almond eyes close into tyrannizing slits and her lips pull at the ends into a closed smirk, you realize why she rarely grins. You’re fucking terrified. It’s a simper reserved for little satisfaction and great anger. How can a woman be this beautiful yet this cruel?

“Explain then,” she allows. The ampleness of her lips has little distance to your mouth. “But if you think for one second I’m letting you go, you’re as dead as your career.”

Your career never started. You were young once. You had dreams of making yourself known and making your family proud. If today never happened, if your needle seamed the thread just a bit tighter, you still would have had a chance to go on. 

Now you’re neither young nor old, with neither a future or past.

Your dreams are broken, just like her clothes.

“Please, Ms. Kang. I was in a rush. I didn’t think it would undo like that.”

She laughs. It’s another rare occurrence that scares the shit out of you. It transforms into a sarcastic little scoff when she meets your eyes again. “I gave you days. I gave you a fucking chance to prove your worth when I could’ve hired any dickhead out there. And what did you do? You screwed it up.” 

With each word she spits, your collar wrings around you more compactly. You feel hot and breathless but to Hyewon, your skin is deadly cold to the touch. Nevertheless, she doesn’t let up.

“I’ll pay for the damage,” you offer bleakly. “I’ll apologize. I’ll admit that I was wrong to… hahk, to the media.  Just please don’t blacklist me.”

She shakes her head. “That isn’t enough.”

It isn’t? What could you do? You’ve already said you’ll pay more than you can to amend. You told her you’d go to the press and bare your wrongdoings. What else does she want? She already has everything.

“You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?” Hyewon snarls. “You planned it all out.” 

You choke, and it’s not because of her hands digging into your flesh. “N-no! I swear—”

In the olden days, prophecies were told by an oracle. People would go on quests and seal their fates in accordance with them. Now, they’re in the little things, like jokes that suddenly bleed into reality, and, in your case, deja vu.

You say deja vu because you know the sound of ripping fabric all too well. 

It interrupts your words and catches you by surprise. Hyewon has wrenched apart the buttons of your shirt down to your stomach. The band of your underwear peeks out above your pants, as well as the stomach you haven’t taken the time to tone in a while.

“There,” she says. She slinks down your lap till her knees touch the floor and she’s tearing your pants, too. More buttons are sent flying in the air. “Now we’re both naked. Isn’t that what you wanted? To get to say that you fucked Kang Hyewon?”

Your pants add to the pile of clothes and buttons on the ground. You can’t even blush or protest; Hyewon is unstoppable when she’s angry. Her soft hands, unlearned in the ways of hardship, somehow have the strength to cut and slice and pull at your clothing. She’s not leaving one speck of fabric on for modesty. 

“I, I don’t want to fu– to have sex with you, Ms. Kang.” 

“Baby.” Hyewon deadpans, laughing a little as she traces the curve of your cheek. “Everyone wants to fuck me.”

She takes off her shirt and tears off the nipple tapes. Her pretty brown nipples are uncovered, and you can’t stop staring. Her body is a model of perfection in every category. You’ve got her flat tummy, curved waist, wide hips, and breasts that really should have a warning sign lest you harm yourself looking at them. Unfortunately, they don’t have a warning label, and Hyewon catches your wandering eyes.

“Fucking pervert.”

You look away, but there’s nowhere else to stare, so you say, “No, please, I didn’t… no, I didn’t—”

“I know what I saw.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“That’s not how you say it.” Hyewon suddenly wraps her hand around your stiffening cock. Her squeeze is painful. “You sit there, bow your head, and say: ‘Sorry, mommy.’”

You’re flabbergasted. “What?” 

You yowl when she squeezes harder and starts to pump you to full mast. It’s a painful pleasure, a guilty danger. Hyewon’s eyes trained on you are even more so. 

“You heard me. If you want to save your career, do as I say.”

You whimper into the eerie silence as the woman curls her fist around your member as if she were choking it. How did you land into this situation? How were you so fucking stupid that you thought a week would be enough to finish the piece?

Now you’re here, in this enclosed dressing room, with a celebrity cruelly torturing your penis and demanding that you call her mommy. Look to the right then to the left and see that no one’s coming to your rescue. This is the real world, and as absurd as it is, you’re on your own.

Hyewon’s fingernails threaten to pierce the sensitive skin. “Be a good boy,” she growls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mommy.” 

(You mean it, you mean it, you mean it.)

“That wasn’t so hard. But I’m not done with you just yet.” 

She leans forward. Your face twists while she wraps her soft tits around you. Her cleavage is so deep, so full that your length is completely lost in it. You moan embarrassingly, and it’s too late to cover your mouth when she’s already smirking. 

“Because you wanted to see my tits so bad,” she says, rubbing her tits in opposite directions on your member, “I’m gonna fuck you with them. I don’t care if you cum like a little bitch or not; I’m not stopping.”

You’re starting to leak. Hyewon’s sweat combined with your precum lubricates you and allows for more delicious, slippery friction. She pushes herself up and down repeatedly, continuously trapping your cock between her amazing boobs. She could do this forever. On the other hand, you’re close to losing it.

“I’m not gonna stop. You brought this upon yourself. You understand me, don’t you?” 

“Yes.”

A deserved silence. Her eyes speak of an immediate death that follows a wrong answer.

Close your eyes. You know what you’re supposed to say. “Yes, mommy.”

Strangely, she’s exactly the type of woman who deserves that title. Her stony expression doesn’t evaporate from that beautiful face although sweat’s started to roll down it from how mercilessly she titfucks you. She shows no signs of sympathy for your situation. Why would she when she’s accustomed to control, and you’ve just taken that from her? You took her control from the people who’ve made her famous. This is your punishment.

Each pleasured expression you make draws a haughty smile from her. It’s as inspiring as critical acclaim to her, for she cups her tits tighter around your shaft and pumps away. You’re her toy for tonight. If she can’t regain her control over the public, she’ll show you why she deserves to have it:

One, she’s tireless. 

Her lower lip is under her teeth as she spills effort into persecuting your cock. She’s unblinking—she’s too focused on your reactions to close her eyes. It’s not like she’d care if your reaction is violent or pained or good. Hyewon would still go on fucking you.

“Of course you like this.” Spit covers your cockhead, a sign of her distaste. “You perverted virgins are all the same.”

“I’m not perverted, mommy.” 

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’re not a virgin?”

“I’m, n-not a vir—”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

She continues grinding her pillowy breasts on you. Their undersides touch your balls while her nipples brush against your stomach. Whatever move she does makes you shiver. 

If you had no escape from the enigma that is Kang Hyewon, neither did your cock. Her bust makes sure of that. It surrounds it as if determined to suffocate an ejaculation out of it. The precum from your tip just isn’t enough.

Two, she doesn’t rely on anybody.

Nobody told her to fuck you. Nobody told her to strip and use you. Those are the choices she made by herself, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t perform them with dedication. She doesn’t need anybody’s help in ruining you when she can do it herself.

So she does. Hyewon sinfully lets saliva drip from her chin and onto her chest to help speed up what’s already a vicious pace. The cold drool makes you hiss. Her warm breasts are both a reprieve and retribution. They carry out soft comfort but give out your quick punishment at the same time. It’s funny to think how they’re as versatile as she is. 

Three, she’s the only one who’s ever made you cum like this.

“Mommy!” The word was never intended to be said. But it’s unavoidable; Hyewon’s too hasty, and it’s becoming too much. You can’t hold back on letting her know her ownership of you.

You can’t hold back the messiness of your cum as well. Bursts of white jet her chest and her neck. You whimper to your wits’ end and she doesn’t stop in spite of it. She keeps overstimulating you till the leak of semen becomes a mere dribble.

Hyewon climbs on your lap again, her vagina placed just in front of your spent shaft. “You’re getting used to it, huh?”

Your eyes are on her, as everyone else’s are when she’s under the lens of a camera. You’re horrified; almost every part of her torso is covered with your cum. Her tits are coated grandly with strong splashes. The white liquid drools down her tummy, then to her jeans.

You just came on Kang Hyewon.

Push her away, cursing quietly. You’ve no reputation left to save now. No dignity, no image, nothing. You should have fought back. A junior stylist shouldn’t be getting intimate with a superstar. 

“Ms. Kang, I should go,” you stammer. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

None of this was supposed to happen. You wish you could have turned back time and stopped yourself from going to fashion school. If you didn’t go, you wouldn’t have gone on the path of designing and wouldn’t have accepted her invitation to design for her and Jang. It’s all so fucked up that you’re actually reconsidering religion.

Hyewon considers this. To your relief, her professional tone returns. You’re able to breathe now. It’s over.

“You’re not gonna help me clean up?” she says finally.

“Oh… yes, I’m sorry.”

There’s no tissues or washcloths around. You have to be resourceful. It’s painful wiping up something so inappropriate with the shirt you designed, but it’ll do. The semen embeds into the denim during your dutiful clean-up. It’s humiliating—the only thing that comforts you is that, after this, you and Hyewon will part ways and never speak again. You both have something to hold over the other. Keeping your mouths shut will keep you safer than sorrier.

More worries surface. Did someone hear or see you? Are there hidden cameras here? You’ll have to inspect the place, especially after you think you don’t remember Hyewon locking the door.

“Thank you.” Hyewon crosses her arms and looks down at the stained vest that started all of this. “Now suck your cum out of it.”

You want to cry. This is far from over. You’re not done here, and you won’t be until she says so.

She cocks her head. “I paid for it, and I don’t want flaws,” she says matter-of-factly. “So you either suck your filth out now or I might just drop the Somun magazine editor a visit.”

Stare at her with tear-filled eyes. What can you do?

Attach your lips to the blemished denim. Suck on it forcefully. The taste brings more tears and some even slide in pathetic drops down your face. How did it all come to this? The amount of hard work you put in school surely did not earn you this, right?

You were raised too soft. Maybe hanging out with the rebellious boys back in elementary would have saved you her domination. You could have negotiated with her, maybe even argued that you weren’t allowing this to happen to you. But those happen in parallel universes, where you’re a little stronger, a little wiser. Here, you’re just a man who’s not particularly excellent. 

“Good job,” Hyewon says. “I guess you’re not that much of a lost cause.”

Her backhanded praise is sweet to your ears rather than mocking.

She clicks her tongue. “All that cum should have went in my pussy, you know.” 

You hang your head to hide your blush. You’re glad thoughts aren’t visually presented. Otherwise, Hyewon would put you down further. 

Hyewon places a finger below your chin and tilts it up. You’re forced to meet her eyes. There comes all the hate again. It pours into your heart freely like a fountain. It’s not hate for her, but for yourself. If you didn’t crumple that easily for women like Hyewon—women who like control and give orders and get a kick out of humiliating other people—maybe a whole other fate would have been in store for you.

Fright always gives way to yearning. She’s a bitch who thinks too highly of herself, although understandably so. She hurt you so much and through it all, you still want to hear her praise you.

She smiles. 

Yep, Kang Hyewon is irredeemably, irrevocably evil.

“And you owe me a whole lot of it,” she says, and adds, in a sickeningly sweet voice, “baby boy.”

No horror film can scare you like she does. She’s a phantom of beauty and power who will haunt you forever. All this could be done and you’d still think about her. You’ve become another one of Hyewon’s fanatics who allows her to do anything and everything to them. 

Hyewon shoves you on the dressing table. The cold white surface cools your skin, but you know it’s about to get heated soon. She’s spanned her legs over your hips again. Her aggressive hands grip your shoulders. Somehow, you never want them to leave your touch. 

Then you’re kissing her. The other way around, you mean—Hyewon initiates it by closing the distance and biting your lip. She’s a starved kisser who devours you like a wolf. Her tongue curls around yours and she dives in deeper. You’re deprived of any breath, any source of oxygen. Part your lips to kiss her back, but she’s already locked her mouth on them.

Hyewon sweeps her hair back, readying herself for the final act. If mirrors could blush, you have no question that they would upon seeing her. Attractiveness is a natural thing to her—you can see it in the sway of her arms, the thickness of her thighs, and the way she carries herself. She acts like she’s entitled to everything, and that includes your cock.

She’s too fucking hot that you’d ignore all her cons and give it up to her.

She knows that. She circles her core around your tip. You moan immediately. She feels so good, and you’re not even inside her yet. 

“You like that?” she sneers after she pulls away. “You like my pussy on your cock?”

She grinds her slit along your cockhead. Her moans are surprisingly sensitive, high in pitch and airy. You’re granted exclusive listening to them when you hit her clit. She moves it there particularly, because those moaned questions she asked you are just for her own ego. She only cares for her own pleasure, and it just so happens to be ignited by a weak man whose type is crazy, unhinged women. Whose type just so happens to be her.

She’s so wet that sounds of drenched squeaks fill your ears. You’re nothing else except certain that she really, really gets off on being such a bitch. Her wicked leer couldn’t ever fade from her face, not if you keep flashing those exhausted needy expressions.

“Answer me,” Hyewon says. She glides her fingertips from your broad shoulders to your neck. A threatening grip, a deadly fate. “You know mommy doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Do you want me to ride your cock, hm?” Every fragment she speaks makes her choke you harder. She’ll send you to heaven then hell, where you’ll meet her all over again. “Do you want me to keep you inside me until I’m all done and satisfied?”

“Yes… oh fuck, please!”

“I fucking thought so.”

She sinks herself down in one go. You cry out. Hyewon’s tight pussy welcomes you and traps you right up to the hilt. The hard grip of her cunt disallows you a break; her pace is one of anger that’s unrelenting and harsh. 

Her thighs crash down on your lap and rise, a cycle that never ends. You’re left even more breathless by her soft breasts smothering you. It’s the best way to go out. They bounce marvelously in front of your face, your nose pressed to the little space between them and your mouth kissing wherever it can. You lick at her tits until you’ve licked all the cum that might have remained on them. 

Your lips attach themselves to her nipple. As an effect, the star’s cunt clamps around you with the hold of a guilty pleasure, a taboo vice. It doesn’t intend on letting go unless you decide you want it to go. But you have the feeling that your probable pleas won’t budge Hyewon’s heart. 

“Mommy’s baby boy,” Hyewon says. Her tightness grows and so does the volume of her heavy gasps. “Mommy’s slutty baby boy who’d do anything to get this pussy.”

You want to tell her that what she said is far from the truth. You didn’t want to cause a wardrobe malfunction. You didn’t want to anger her. But now, when presented with the heat of her impossibly wet vagina, you realize you actually would. You try to meet her expectations, nursing on her nipple and guiding her movements with your hands on her wide hips. What you want is for this to be enough, but it just isn’t. Hyewon always wants more.

You can see it in the crash of her butt on your thighs, the shouty cries that she lets go of, the grip on your neck that she doesn’t. A woman accustomed to the scrutiny of the public eye would never let a strand of her hair go knotted. But when it comes to punishing people, to making them the accessory she carries, she doesn’t care anymore. Her usually prepared and counted movements become frantic. Her quietness isn't a  case of the current times when she’s using you as her little fucktoy. 

Kang Hyewon is a mess, and you are, too.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your yells crack and fade—she doesn’t.

Hyewon doesn’t let up. Her fluttering walls make sure to leave your legs stagnant. You can feel her manicured nails scrape your skin and her thin legs hug your hips. The hours she spends in the gym can’t be that long for her stamina to remain this strong. Maybe she has a personal trainer, a healthy diet. Maybe she owns some weights around the house.

Maybe she owns you.

“You sound pathetic. Just keep sucking those tits.” She removes her hand from the base of your neck, but leaves you asphyxiated anyway when she pushes her face into her breasts. 

The mirror bears your combined weight. You try to lift your head. Hyewon chases your movements. You’re forced to inhale through your nostrils, taking in her powdery perfume and lightly sweaty scent, and keep your mouth busy on her boobs. 

You flick her nipple with your tongue. She holds you to her chest and promises no escape. To be fair, you could stay here, smothered by her breasts forever. You’d have little complaint when they’re heavy and soft and sweaty. Your mouth stays attached to them and brings her on the road to orgasm.

“Greedy little boy,” Hyewon scoffs. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? I bet you held it out just so I could keep riding you.”

Your cock feels sore already. Although her insides are warm and soaked enough for the entering and leaving to be slick, you’ve been trying to hold back for so long you think you’ll cry. You have to tell her. Perhaps it’ll lessen her anger. 

“I’m gonna cum, please, mommy.”

She cruelly bounces faster. Her hips are that of a veteran dancer’s, grinding to and fro and rotating. You’ve figured it out: the reason why she’s never had a dating scandal is that no man would be able to handle her. She’d drain him nightly. She’d treat him like a sex toy to use when she pleases. Everyone wants to be hers, but no one is ready for her.

“Do you deserve to cum inside this perfect pussy?” she asks. She splays her lips and grinds upwards. You groan loudly. “You’re lucky if I even spit on you. What makes you think you can explode in mommy?”

“Please, I’ll do anything!” You tighten your core to hold it back. It’s useless. Your orgasm is coming anytime now, and Hyewon won’t let it happen. “Mommy, let me cum, mommy, please!”

She slaps you across the face. Why did the sting turn you on? You’d argue her words sting more. “You made me look like a cheap slut out there!” Hyewon shouts. “I gave you a chance and you ruined it, you little shit. So now you have to earn your fucking worth!” 

Her riding becomes intense by the minute. She was angry earlier, and now she’s furious. You’re her canvas for a fuming painting. But in her eyes, you’re not a masterpiece. She’ll do away with you to the point of destruction. You’re very near to crumbling.

“I’ll do anything, please!”

You’re desperate. Your stomach’s starting to ache from the violence. You can’t quite feel your legs. All you feel is an impending heat that squeezes your insides. Your hips jerk needily and tears fall from your face. This is the first time you’ve felt this humiliated and aroused. Something about Hyewon makes the two emotions merge and leaves you wanting more.

Hyewon’s close to cumming, too. She’s shaking as her chaotic bounces are sloppier than before. “Say it, say you’re my little boy toy! Say you’re a slut for mommy!”

You’re a quivering body beneath the celebrity. You’re letting her use your cock and choke you and slap you, all without repercussions. There’s only one kind of man that would let someone do that to them. You can’t believe you’ve become one.

“Yes, yes, mommy owns my cock!” you scream, nodding over and over. “I’m her toy and she can do w-whatever she wants to me, I won’t mind!” 

Her juices roll down your cock and wet your pubic area. She’s spiraling out of control. The only thing she can control is you, making you say the most humiliating things. Her wild eyes lock onto yours, and through them you could finally see some backstory: Kang Hyewon was born into wealth and control, and she’ll die with them, too. She’ll always fight to have them when they’re taken away from her. She isn’t afraid to cross limits.

“Yes, yes, yes! More!”

“I only want mommy’s pussy even if I don’t deserve it! I only do what she says, I’ll give up everything to be mommy’s plaything, please!”

When she cums, she looks frenzied, shaking all over the place and spasming around you. Her cries of pleasure become erratic. They almost sound not human. A human would not dare do what she does to you. She fucks you like an animal, frightens you like a supernatural phenomenon, and moves like the waves of the sea.

Kang Hyewon is out of this world. You’re an unnamed rock floating in the galaxy she navigates.

You bust just the second she removes herself from you. Abashing strings of sticky whiteness land all over yourself. They’re paired with needy groans that you can’t stop even if you wanted to. 

Hyewon observes your ejaculation unamusedly. She takes a step backward when a jet of cum sprays in her direction. Look down at yourself—look down at your lap and the table blotted with your orgasm—and think of how dirty you are. You’re so dirty and pitiable that you came all over yourself, like you just masturbated in front of her. That’s why she doesn’t want to touch you.

“Y-you didn’t let me cum inside,” you say disappointedly. You did everything, said everything, and risked everything for nothing. An orgasm isn’t worth it when it isn’t done inside Hyewon.

“Like I said,” Hyewon replies, apathetic, “you don’t deserve it.”

Stare at her. It’s through staring at her with surprise that you realize you’re dirty on the inside, too. Hyewon can live her life secludedly and fade from the industry. She can leave this country, reinvent herself, marry somewhere, and you’d still be thinking about her. You’d always think of this night that left her appearance and yourself ruined.

That’s her charm. She’s permanently going to be in your mind—you’ll always picture her wet cunt, her alluring breasts, her beautiful face. You’ll strive for her again and again while she doesn't even care if you live or die.

Women like her… why do they have to be who you want?

“You have no future in this industry,” she continues. 

She pulls her jeans up her legs and slips the button through the hole. Oh, you really will remember this night. You see you and Hyewon in the little things. She searches through the closet for a spare shirt. Watch her slim fingers that previously wrapped like ribbons around your throat now wrap around a hanger. She slips her arms through the tweed coat and seals it around the front.

“But your drawings aren’t… horrible,” she says. That’s the best compliment you can get from her. You know not to expect more. She shrugs as she closes the buttons together. “Maybe you’ll end up as a painter.” 

A painter? You’re a fashion designer, not Van Gogh. Dresses and pants are your forte. You can’t switch to a whole new job when sewing is what you know.

Your heart sinks. You really broke the first step to a career you worked your whole life for. It’s just not your path to take anymore. 

Hyewon looks around for something to write with. She settles for the eye pencil lying on a table. She forces you to open your palm and writes something on it. She closes your fingers above it.

“There you go. Consider this a farewell gift.”

She came into your life fast and she exits it just as fast. You can’t help but feel a strange sense of yearning. After all she’s done, you don’t want her to go. Why do you despise her departure when you prayed for it earlier?

Who would take you now?

You sigh. Peek at your hand curiously. In tidy handwriting, Hyewon’s message says:

KIM MINJU - CURATOR

XXX - XXX - 2001

[bruhnze]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHAPTER 7 - Celebrations

Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).

masterlist

November 26, 2023: vs. Athletic Bilbao (4-0, away) December 9, 2023: vs. SD Eibar (5-0, home) December 13, 2023: vs. FC Rosengård (6-0, away) December 17, 2023: vs. UDG Tenerife Sur (2-0, away) December 21, 2023: vs. FC Rosengård (7-0, home)

22 December 2023 – Spain

The last few weeks had been nothing short of bliss.

Since the team trip to Germany, Ona and Lucy hadn't spent another night apart. It felt almost surreal how they’d slipped into this unspoken routine of staying over at each other's places.

Whether it was Ona with her little dog Coco at Lucy’s apartment, or Lucy crashing at Ona’s with Narla, they always found an excuse to be together.

There were no labels, no discussions. Just being. It felt natural, like the most normal thing in the world.

But it felt also like something heavy and unspoken hanging in the air.

Like on this chilly December morning, they had woken up at Lucy's place. Ona cherished mornings like these, the quiet moments, waking up wrapped in Lucy's arms.

The days she loved most were the ones when they didn’t have to rush off early. On those mornings, the dogs would join them in bed as one of them made breakfast. It felt like a slice of heaven, a perfect world of just the two of them, their dogs, and the cozy quiet of the apartment.

This morning, though, they did have to wake up on time. After waking up and some brief cuddles, they had walked the dogs before heading to the club for breakfast, followed by some light recovery training after their game against FC Rosengård the day before.

By early afternoon, they were done, so everyone of the team could get ready for the special night ahead. In the car back, Ona had insisted on an afternoon to herself. She wanted to get dressed on her own as she had no idea yet what she would be wearing tonight.

..

Now, standing in front of her mirror, fixing her hair, Ona’s thoughts where occupied with the plans for the evening.

Tonight was going to be an early Christmas dinner with the team, Barça staff and everyone’s partners, followed by a night out with just the girls of the team and their partners, without the Barça-B players or staff members.

The club they were heading to later didn’t allow phones, offering a sense of privacy they rarely had. But despite the freedom, tension knotted in Ona’s stomach. She could be close to Lucy tonight, but not in a way she, or maybe they both, wanted. As much as she longed to let go, to dance with Lucy in the way her heart ached to, she couldn’t. Not in front of everyone.

The thought frustrated her more than she wanted to admit. Her and Lucy weren’t in a relationship, even though it felt like it with their routines, they were secret. They just had an arrangement.

With a sigh, Ona turned her attention back to the scattered clothes across her bed. It was a chaotic mess of indecision.

Dresses, trousers, jackets… none of it felt right. She wanted to feel confident, yet safe. The sleek black dress she’d initially picked felt wrong. It didn’t quite had the vibe she was going for. She didn’t feel like something low cut or something that sat nice around her figure. No, she didn’t want to be perceived. Well, she wanted Lucy to, but it felt wrong. Tossing it aside, she settled on something else. A suit. It was sharp, it was elegant and it most of all it looked nice on her.

She slipped on the fitted black suit, smoothing out the jacket. A small smile tugged at her lips. This was the best it was going to get. The crisp white blouse underneath completed the look, giving her the confidence she needed to face the night. It wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t daring, but it was good for now.

With one last glance in the mirror, Ona chuckled softly to herself. She didn’t really feel ready to "attack the night" at all. But there was one thing she was looking forward to, and that was cuddling up with Lucy at the end of it. And maybe something more. They’d see how tired they were after the night played out.

…

In the dimly lit car garage, the soft click of Ona’s slightly heeled shoes echoed against the concrete as she made her way to her car. She had offered to drive tonight, opting not to drink, and reassuring Lucy earlier that it was completely fine if she wanted to have a drink or two. Ona had no intention of drinking anyway.

When she arrived, Lucy was already leaning against the car, looking effortlessly stunning in a tailored black suit. Unlike Ona’s outfit, Lucy had paired hers with a sleek black vest instead of a white blouse. The sight of her took Ona’s breath away for a second, her heart skipping a beat at how natural Lucy made looking this good seem.

“You ready?” Lucy asked, her voice soft, a smile playing on her lips as the dim garage lights caught a glint in her eyes.

Ona nodded, fumbling for a second as she clicked the car open. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As they settled into the car, a silence fell over them. Ona’s hands gripped the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at Lucy from the corner of her eye. The tension was palpable but not uncomfortable, just unspoken, like there was something hanging between them that neither wanted to address first.

After a few minutes of quiet, Lucy broke the silence, her voice hesitant. “Did you, uh… did you have a good afternoon?”

Ona glanced at her, slightly surprised by the question. “Yeah… why?”

Lucy shifted awkwardly, shaking her head. “Oh, nothing, I-I’m just… it’s stupid.” She waved it off.

The silence that followed felt heavier now. Ona wanted to ask more, but the uncertainty in Lucy’s voice held her back. She reached out instead, placing her hand gently on Lucy’s knee. “You look really good tonight, by the way” she said softly, hoping to ease whatever tension Lucy was feeling.

The warmth of Lucy’s leg beneath her palm was brief. Ona immediately pulled her hand back as she felt Lucy tense slightly at her touch, worried she had overstepped. “Sorry-”

Lucy quickly caught her hand and placed it back on her knee. “No, no. It’s fine,” she murmured, her tone softer this time. “It’s nothing.”

Ona frowned, glancing over at Lucy as the car sped down the empty streets. “Is it because I said I wanted the afternoon alone?” she asked cautiously.

Lucy didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed out the window. They were getting close to the restaurant now, the dim lights of the street casting soft shadows across Lucy’s face.

“Is it?” Ona asked again, more confused. “I just wanted to dress up and do my hair by myself... that’s all.”

Still no response. The silence stretched out for what felt like minutes until Ona added quietly, almost shyly, “I missed you.”

Lucy’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide with surprise. “You… missed me?”

Ona’s face flushed with embarrassment. They had been spending so much time together, it felt safe to admit something like that now. She hesitated but nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Lucy’s expression softened, but her voice dropped to a murmur. “I thought you finally realized you wanted your own space again.”

Ona didn’t catch the full sentence, too focused on parking the car in front of the restaurant. Her gears where still grinding about Lucy’s confused expression a few seconds ago.

As she finished reversing into the spot, she realized what she had forgotten to do. A kiss. She hadn’t kissed Lucy when they met at the car, too distracted by how incredible she looked.

“I forgot something,” Ona whispered, leaning closer to Lucy until their foreheads touched. Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

Lucy chuckled softly, her breath warm against Ona’s lips. “Of course, if you want to.”

Ona frowned playfully, leaning back just a bit. “Want to? Of course, I want to.”

But Lucy’s gaze shifted slightly, something uncertain in her eyes. “I just thought… maybe you wanted things to be more casual again.”

Ona’s heart thudded in her chest. “More casual? Do you want that?”

Lucy hesitated, her words stumbling out. “I mean, we’ve gotten pretty close… and I get it if you want things to be simpler again.” Her voice was quiet, uncertain, as though she was trying to feel out how Ona truly felt.

Ona’s thoughts raced. Maybe Lucy was feeling unsure about this all. “I mean… I could do casual,” she said cautiously. “But, you know… for me, the sleeping over, the kissing… it’s nice.”

She cringed inwardly at how clumsy her words sounded. Nice? It was much more than that. She was trying to find the right balance between what she felt and what she thought Lucy might want.

Lucy smiled softly, her tension easing just a little. “Yeah. It is nice.” Then her eyes swept over Ona, and she blushed slightly. “By the way, you look perfect tonight too. I wanted to tell you earlier, but… I was a bit in my head.”

Ona smiled, her heart swelling at the compliment. “Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence before Ona leaned in again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Well… what do you say to a kiss before we go inside and have to spend the whole night without?”

Lucy nodded, her eyes soft and warm as she leaned in closer. “Yeah.”

Their lips met in a brief but hurried kiss, not their best, but enough to send a small thrill through Ona’s body. She pulled back with a smile, leaning in to kiss Lucy’s jaw, lingering there for a moment before murmuring, “Maybe more later tonight?”

Lucy tensed beneath her touch again, and for a moment, Ona thought she’d pushed too far. But before she could say anything, Lucy’s lips crashed against hers, more insistent this time, a teasing kiss that held the promise of more to come. It sent a shiver down Ona’s spine, leaving her breathless by the time they pulled away.

“Okay,” Ona whispered, her heart racing, “let’s go before I forget why we’re here.”

..

The restaurant was bathed in a soft, golden light, casting a warm and intimate glow over everything. In the corner stood a towering Christmas tree, its decorations shimmering under the gentle twinkle of lights, adding to the festive atmosphere. The mouth-watering smell of roasted meat, rich spices, and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and conversation from diners already seated.

As they stepped into the wardrobe, Lucy and Ona were greeted by Paños and her girlfriend. Hugs were exchanged, but Ona couldn’t help but notice a slight strangeness in the way Sandra looked at them. It was subtle, just a flicker of something that made Ona feel a little uneasy, but she shook it off.

The four of them arrived together at the tables, greeted by the cheerful voices of their teammates, who were already scattered around the room.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Mapi called out with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling as she saw them approach. “We thought you guys were skipping out on us!”

Ona winced inwardly. They were late, and it was probably her fault. She hadn’t even checked the time earlier, lost in the moment, but when she’d walked to the car, Lucy had already been waiting. And during the drive, well, neither of them had exactly rushed.

“We’re not that late,” Ona shot back..

Lucy chuckled, clearly unfazed. “Just fashionably late,” she said with a chuckle, sliding into the empty seat beside Mariona.

Ona found her spot next to Aitana, directly across from Lucy. Their eyes met briefly across the table, a spark of something unspoken passing between them before Ona quickly looked away, focusing on the name card standing neatly on the plate in front of her. There was something charged in the air between them, a pull that only she and Lucy felt. Or was it just her? Ona didn’t know anymore. Lucy had been acting strange, distant, like she didn’t want to be as close anymore. It was confusing. Hadn't Lucy seemed into it just as much as she was? Ona's mind swirled with doubt.

The team, however, was in high spirits. The successful season so far had put everyone in a celebratory mood, and the promise of more than a week of vacation ahead added to the excitement. Laughter and conversation filled the room, and Ona tried her best to focus on Aitana’s enthusiastic chatter, but her mind kept drifting.

After the appetizers were served, Patri stood up, glass in hand, clearly having drawn the shortest straw and the one who had to give the toast. She rolled her eyes playfully before launching into a short but nice speech about family, health, and success.

“To a great rest of the season,” Patri said ending her toast, raising her glass high. “and happy holidays.”

The team cheered, clinking glasses as Patri finished her speech. Ona clinked her glass against Aitana’s.

Throughout the dinner, the conversations flowed effortlessly. Stories from training, memorable moments from matches, and inside jokes bounced from one end of the table to the other. Ona laughed with her teammates, but her gaze kept drifting, inevitably, back to Lucy. She couldn’t help it. Lucy had a presence that was hard to ignore, even in a room full of people.

Every time Ona tried to focus on the conversations, she found herself sneaking glances across the table. Lucy’s easy laughter, the way she threw her head back at someone’s joke, or how her face lit up when she made a joke of her own. Ona’s heart ached with an unspoken longing she was desperately trying to hide.

And then there were the moments when their gazes would meet. They were fleeting but intense. Lucy’s lips would curl into a small smile, subtle yet powerful, and it sent a rush of warmth through Ona’s chest. She tried to smile back, but each time she did, she felt her pulse quicken and her cheeks heath up.

No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, there was no escaping the pull. Lucy had a way of drawing her in, effortlessly charming everyone around her, while Ona sat across the table, feeling both lucky to be there and yet, on the verge of something breaking inside her.

Because as much as she longed to cross the invisible line between them, she knew she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. It wasn’t possible to tell her how she felt, Lucy would think she was dumb.

..

A couple of hours had passed.

The club was only a short walk from the restaurant, so the group had decided to walk over together. Now, Ona clung to her little circle of friends, hoping that keeping busy would distract her from the one person she couldn’t stop thinking about.

The club was loud and vibrant, pulsing with energy. The bass of the music thumped in Ona's chest as she and the team stepped into the dimly lit space. Neon lights flickered across the room, casting vivid colors over the dance floor, where bodies swayed, already lost to the beat. The no-phone policy added an air of intimacy, as if the world outside had disappeared, leaving just them in this chaotic, throbbing bubble.

At the bar, Ona ordered a soda, she sipped it absentmindedly. Across the room, Lucy stood, dancing with a few teammates. But it wasn’t just them. A couple of unknown girls hovered close, laughing, leaning in to talk to Lucy. Ona’s gaze lingered longer than it should have, her heart tightening at the sight of Lucy; so relaxed, swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the music, her laugh ringing out above the noise. Or maybe Ona could just hear her laugh in her thoughts.

She’d seen Lucy dance before - after victories, celebrations in the locker room - but this was different. Lucy moved with a kind of ease and charm that made Ona’s breath catch. The jacket Lucy had been wearing was discarded somewhere, and now, in the dim lighting, the curve of her biceps gleamed under flashes of purple and blue neon.

Get it together. Ona forced herself to turn away, focusing on Salma, who was animatedly telling a story about a something something Vicky. She nodded, tried to laugh at the right moments, but her attention kept slipping back to Lucy. Every time Lucy laughed, it was like a magnet, drawing her eyes back across the room.

And then she saw it.

A girl Ona didn’t recognize danced her way toward Lucy, smiling as she touched her arm and leaned in to say something, her lips close to Lucy’s ear. Lucy’s laugh in response was casual, unbothered, but the sight of it made Ona’s stomach twist painfully. Then another girl joined, moving closer, her body swaying in sync with Lucy’s.

Ona’s heart raced, the sharp sting of jealousy overwhelming her. The girl was dancing against Lucy with her behind. She could barely focus on Salma’s words, every glance toward Lucy driving the knife deeper. Lucy wasn’t pushing them away, wasn’t stopping them. And why would she? Lucy was free to do what she wants, Ona thought bitterly, but the logic didn’t make it any easier. The ache in her chest grew unbearable as one of the girls danced right in front of Lucy. It seemed like she was enjoying the attention, Ona grumbled, Lucy didn’t even budge.

That was it.

“I’ll be back,” Ona muttered to Salma, barely looking at her as she hurried away. Salma’s concerned eyes followed her, but Ona didn’t stop to explain. She needed to get out of there, to breathe, to escape the crushing weight of her own emotions.

She shoved her way through the crowd, her pulse quickening as the noise of the club pressed in on her. Finally, she reached the bathroom, the door closing behind her with a muted thud, shutting out the chaos. Ona leaned over the sink, gripping its edge tightly as she stared at her reflection. Her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

She was just a fling. Just a stupid shag buddy, the words looped in her mind, twisting the knife further. Lucy’s casual comment from earlier echoed painfully; ‘if you want things to be simpler again.’ Was this what simpler meant? Staying distant, pretending the emotions that churned inside her didn’t exist?

She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip hard to keep the tears at bay. But it was no use. The frustration, the jealousy, the hurt. It all spilled over. A tear rolled down her cheek, and before she knew it, she was sobbing quietly into her hands, her heart breaking in the small, dark bathroom.

A creak of the door behind her made Ona freeze. Quickly, she wiped at her face, trying to compose herself, but when she glanced in the mirror, she saw Alexia stepping out of one of the stalls. Her brows furrowed in concern as she took in the sight of Ona’s tear-streaked face.

“Ona?” Alexia’s voice was soft but laced with worry. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Ona shook her head, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired,” she said, her voice tight.

Alexia wasn’t convinced. She stepped closer, her gaze searching Ona’s face for the truth. “Tired?” she asked gently, crossing her arms. “You don’t look just tired.”

Swallowing hard, Ona turned away from the mirror, avoiding Alexia’s piercing stare. “I think I’m going to head home. I just… I need some air.”

Alexia studied her for a moment longer, her concern deepening, but finally, she nodded. “If you need to leave, go ahead. But if something’s bothering you… you can talk to me, you know?”

Ona gave a weak smile, her chest tight with the effort of holding everything in. “I know. Thanks, Alexia. I’ll see you later.”

Without waiting for a response, Ona slipped past her and out of the bathroom. She wove her way through the crowded club, brushing off questions from her teammates about where she was going. “Just tired,” she repeated to Patri, Pina, and the others, giving a strained smile. “I’m heading home.”

They let her go without pressing further, and soon, Ona found herself outside, the cool night air hitting her skin like a slap. Her breath came in shaky bursts as she hurried down the street, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over again.

Fuck.

She was supposed to drive Lucy home.

Fuck it, Lucy could ask those whores for a ride.

At that thought her tears started flowing again.

.. from this point on: Lucy’s pov..

The team was inside the club for a while now but Lucy was beginning to feel uncomfortable. At first, dancing with Mariona and the other girls had been fun, but the attention she was getting from the random girls who had drifted over to flirt was starting to grate on her.

She tried to brush it off, to enjoy the night with her team, but the way the girls lingered, pressing closer, was making her feel trapped.

Her mind was elsewhere. It was on Ona. Ona, Ona, Ona.

She had been thinking about Ona the whole night. Her feelings for the beautiful Spaniard had deepened in ways she hadn’t expected, but she needed to be discreet about it, for Ona’s sake.

As she glanced around the club, she realized she hadn’t seen Ona for a while. Where was she?

Lucy finally excused herself from the pushy girls, slipping past them with a polite smile, but inside she felt unsettled. She made her way to the bar, ordering a Coke. She’d had a couple of glasses of wine earlier at dinner, but now the idea of drinking anything stronger made her uneasy.

Especially with those girls hanging around like vultures. The thought made her feel gross, like she was prey being circled. They were way too clingy for her liking.

“Hey, have you seen Ona?” Lucy asked Mariona, who had followed her to the bar. Her voice was louder now, trying to cut through the music.

Mariona shook her head, then turned to Pina, standing a step away. “Have you seen Ona?”

Pina nodded, sipping her drink. “Yeah, she left a while ago. Said she was tired.”

“Tired?” Lucy’s frown deepened, a creeping worry settling in her chest. “How long ago?”

“Like 10 minutes ago,” Pina said, “she didn’t look good. Her eyes where red, but she said she was just tired.”

Lucy’s stomach twisted with worry. Red eyes? Could it be from crying? She debated whether she should text or call, but if Ona had left because she was tired, the last thing she wanted to do was wake her. She didn’t want to overstep, but the nagging feeling in her chest wouldn’t let go.

“Yeah, she looked a bit sad,” Paños said sharply, her eyes locking onto Lucy with an intensity that made Lucy’s nerves spike. She moved closer, her gaze hard and unrelenting. After turning briefly to her girlfriend, whispering something, “A beer for me, please. I’ll be back in a bit. You wait here, babe, inside.” She walked closer to Lucy.

Lucy barely had time to process what was happening before Paños turned her attention fully to her, voice quiet but cold and commanding. “You, outside. Now.” She said in her ear.

Lucy’s frown deepened as confusion swirled. Had she done something wrong? She grabbed her jacket and followed Paños out into the cold December air, the chill biting at her skin. It was late, probably past midnight, but the icy breeze was nothing compared to the tension building in her chest.

Lucy turned around as soon as they were outside, her breath visible in the cold air. “So, wha—”

She didn’t get to finish. A hard shove sent her stumbling backward, catching her completely off guard. She searched for balance, her body crashing into a streetlamp, the cold iron digging into her back. She winced, gasping as the impact knocked the breath out of her.

“What the fuck, Sa—”

The sharp sting of a slap cut her off mid-sentence, her head snapping to the side. Pain radiated across her cheek, her hand instinctively flying up to touch the burning skin. “Ouch! What—”

“Lucía!” Paños growled, gripping Lucy’s chin with rough hands, forcing her to meet her gaze.

Lucy blinked, stunned. What the hell was happening? Did Paños have too much to drink? Why was she doing this?

“I don’t think you’re in any position to act so innocent,” Paños hissed through gritted teeth, her voice dripping with… she didn’t know, was it disgust? “I know everything, and I don’t understand what Ona even sees in you. Or saw.” She spat on the ground, her disgust palpable. “The way you treat her - it’s fucking disgusting. To think I called you a friend? I despise you.”

Lucy felt her knees weaken, the weight of Sandra’s words sinking in like stones. Tears welled in her eyes, her throat tightening. Had Ona told Sandra? Did everyone now know? Did they all think she was pathetic? Her mind spun wildly, shame and fear mixing into a sickening knot in her stomach. She knew Ona was out of her league, that this arrangement between them was something she was lucky to have. But now… did Ona hate her so much that she sent Sandra to do this? Was she really that revolting to everyone?

“Why are you crying?” Sandra scoffed, her voice mocking. “Don’t act like a little bitch now. Big guy in there, but a coward here, huh?” She shoved Lucy again, this time harder, luckily she didn’t fall as she still had the pole in her back. “I saw you two, you know. Outside the restaurant, you were kissing with Ona in the car.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped, her brows knitting together in confusion. What was this even about? This had to be the most baffling, brutal scolding she’d ever experienced.

“I observed you two,” Sandra continued, her grip tightening painfully around Lucy’s chin, making sure she had her full attention. Lucy’s heart pounded in her chest as she hung on every word, her mind racing to make sense of it all. “At the wardrobe, before dinner, you were sweet—helping her with her jacket and purse. I thought, ‘Okay, they’re finally going to tell us.’ But during dinner, what did I see? Ona looking at you the entire night, and you ignoring her. Not once did you acknowledge her. Not once.” Sandra’s voice cracked slightly, her whisper laced with a raw kind of fury. “Who ignores their girlfriend?”

“I—” Lucy tried to speak, her voice shaky, but Sandra’s sharp glare silenced her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sandra snapped, her voice darker, more dangerous now. “I haven’t even told you the worst part yet. After you ignored her all night, Ona was at the bar, talking with some of the girls. Guess who she was looking for? Guess what she saw?” Sandra’s finger jabbed into Lucy’s chest with each accusation, making her wince. “She saw her secret girlfriend dancing with a couple of pathetic, easy girls who throw themselves at any footballer they can get their hands on.”

Lucy’s tears spilled over.

Sandra scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. “You’re even worse than I thought.” She spat on the ground again, her expression cold and unforgiving. “You’re cheaper than a 76-year-old whore.”

Sandra turned to leave, but Lucy, barely holding herself together, grabbed her jacket, desperate to say something to explain. “W-wait, I-”

..

A couple of hours had passed since that painful encounter. After Sandra had let go of her anger and frustration, Lucy had managed to explain herself, though the words had come out shaky and uncertain. She told Sandra everything. She had told about her feelings for Ona, how confused she was, how she hadn’t known what to do or say. It had all come spilling out, the words, her thoughts, her insecurities leaving her mouth until there was nothing left to hide.

Sandra had listened, the intensity in her eyes softening slightly. Then, much to Lucy’s surprise, she apologized. It wasn’t a warm apology, but there was something genuine in it. She hadn’t known the whole story. She hadn’t realized how deeply Lucy cared. Her girlfriend had come outside eventually, seemingly thinking it taken way too long. But the third person with them had been nice, offering a bit of calm next to the lingering tension. In the end, the two of them had brought Lucy home, making sure she was okay before leaving her infront of her building.

Now, Lucy laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the night spinning in her head. She felt exhausted but couldn’t sleep, her thoughts were too loud, her emotions felt too raw. Sandra’s words echoed in her mind. Was Ona really looking at her in love? What did that even mean? It couldn’t be mutual right, how could Ona want to be her girlfriend too. She had just wanted something casual.

Lucy turned over in bed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, but it didn’t help. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how Ona had looked at her during dinner, the subtle glances across the table, the way their eyes had met for just a second before Ona had looked away. She hadn’t imagined that, no, she had seen it with her own two eyes. She did her best to respect their secrecy, but every time she did bend and glanced over, Ona was looking at her too.

But was she looking at her with heart-eyes? Lucy’s mind raced. Had it been there all along, right in front of her, and she’d just been too blind to see it? Too scared to acknowledge it?

Her chest tightened at the thought. She wanted to believe that Ona felt the same way, that the connection between them was mutual, but doubt still gnawed at her.

What if Sandra was wrong? What if Ona doesn’t feel the same?

But then, her mind drifted back to the moments that had made her fall for Ona in the first place. She closed her eyes, memories flooding her senses like a tide she couldn’t stop.

The late-night drives after games, when the world seemed quieter, and it was just the two of them talking about everything and nothing. The recent mornings when she’d wake up with the sleepy Spaniard in her arms, their dogs jumping on the bed, when she would make breakfast to give Ona a few moments more too sleep and the perfect smile that greeted her when she woke her with some soft kisses.

And then there were the times on the pitch, the way Ona would flash her that grin as she was better at something. The way her eyes would light up when they won a match together, whether it was during training or a real one. Those moments when Lucy had felt something shift inside her, something deep and undeniable.

She was in love with Ona.

She loved the way Ona’s mind worked. And the way how even her flaws where perfect, flaws that were only cute on this girl. This girl. Ona. Ona Batlle Pascal, the girl that had been slowly taking over her mind. Ever since that moment she had seen her on Staniforth’s wedding.

She had had the best night ever that day. She had wanted to reach out to the girl, but it felt wrong to hit someone up who was 8 years younger then she was. She wanted to keep thing at Ona, let her make a move if she was in to it too.

Then the thing at the hotel had happened. She had felt bad about it, because she was the one initiating the cuddles every time, but the thing that had happened had been all Ona. After that they had agreed on friends with benefits. It had been what Ona wanted right? Lucy tried hard to remember how exactly things had gone. Had she filled things in for Ona? Afraid of what Ona really thought? Keeping in charge so she wouldn’t be hurt?

Lucy’s eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t keep doing this, she thought, her mind racing. She couldn’t keep pretending that this was just casual, that she didn’t care as much as she did. The ache in her chest had become too much to bear.

She had to tell her.

The thought hit her with such clarity that it made her breath catch. She couldn’t go on like this—hiding her feelings, pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. She needed Ona. Needed her in ways she hadn’t fully realized until tonight. Especially after this night, God, Ona must feel horrible. She felt dirty, being seen by Ona like that. She hadn’t thought about it like that. Ugh, she was such a dumb bitch sometimes, she hadn’t even registered the girls until they where already dancing too close to her, invading her personal space.

She closed her eyes again. Trying to push the thoughts away, maybe even trying to fall asleep.

The truth was, she couldn’t sleep without Ona. Not anymore. The night spent apart felt empty, cold. Every night she wasn’t wrapped in Ona’s arms, she felt like she was missing something vital.

She had to tell her. The words repeated in her head like a mantra. She had to make up for the bad impression she had made. She needed to tell Ona, even it meant losing their arrangement.  

Lucy tossed and turned.

Eventually as the alarm clock said 05:38, she decided on an ice bath.

Then she would at least be awake when facing Ona.

And that was if Ona wanted to face her.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i feel like this idea is really cute and just had to be written down:)

word count - 1.4k

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

00:13am. 25th December, 2023.

On this whimsical Christmas Eve, the air is infused with the scent of pine and anticipation as you and your husband Harry, donned in a jolly Santa suit purely for his own delight, tiptoe around the cozy living room.

The soft glow of twinkling lights casts a warm ambiance, enveloping the space in a serene holiday magic.

Upstairs in the master bed, your precious four-year-old, Arlo, is lost in dreams of sugarplums and toy-filled wonderlands.

As his dreams weave their gentle tapestry, you and Harry share mischievous smiles, conspirators in the clandestine mission to deliver presents beneath the twinkling Christmas tree.

In the quietude of the night, laughter bubbles between you and Harry, a shared joy that needs no reason. Silently, you exchange glances, finding amusement in the simple joy of being together on this enchanting night. The muffled laughter dances in the air, a secret language spoken in the hushed tones of love.

The presents, adorned with festive paper and ribbons, find their places beneath the tree like treasures awaiting discovery. With each shared giggle, you and Harry weave invisible threads of happiness, wrapping the room in the warmth of familial love.

The task at hand becomes a delightful game of stealth and joy. Harry, in his Santa suit, moves with a festive grace, and you follow suit, your hearts synchronized in the shared delight of creating magic for Arlo. Laughter, sweet and spontaneous, becomes the soundtrack to this festive ballet.

Beside the twinkling evergreen, Arlo's offerings for Santa and his reindeer beckon: a plate adorned with mince pies and a bunch of crisp carrot for Rudolph.

Harry, ever the good sport in his Santa attire, merrily takes a bite of the sweet, spiced pie, savoring the festive flavor with genuine delight.

Meanwhile, you opt for the crunchy carrots, enjoying their crisp freshness. The contrast of flavours mirrors the yuletide spirit, blending the sweetness of the mince pies with the earthy simplicity of the carrots.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the offering of milk. Harry, with a theatrical flourish, lifts the glass to his lips, only to be met with a cringe as the chilly liquid meets his tongue. The milk, left out for Santa's refreshment, bears the unmistakable chill of a night spent waiting. The internal wince is evident on Harry's face, though he valiantly soldiers on, determined not to let a bit of cold milk dampen the festive mood.

As you stand in the hushed glow of the Christmas tree, satisfied smiles exchanged with Harry, a sense of completion washes over you. The presents are arranged, the festive treats enjoyed, and the world outside is wrapped in a blanket of silent snow. It feels like the perfect moment to retire to bed, where dreams of sugarplums can join the night's symphony.

But just as you entertain the idea of slipping under the warm covers, Harry, in his Santa suit, wraps his arms around your waist with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His lips press gentle kisses against your neck, creating a trail of warmth that contrasts the cool air of the room. You can't help but laugh, a delighted sound that dances in the quietude.

"M’not quite ready f’bed yet," he murmurs against your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "If I go now, I'll just get kicked in the back by ‘Lo, and I'll end up with no quilt."

The unexpected declaration sends a ripple of laughter through you, and you playfully turn around in his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" you tease, your lips curving into a smile.

In the gentle dance of shared laughter and lingering gazes, you both revel in the magic of the moment. The Christmas lights cast a soft glow on Harry's face, accentuating the warmth in his eyes. His lips meet yours in a brief but tender kiss, a sweet punctuation to the unspoken joy that fills the room.

"M’suppose bedtime can wait a bit longer," he concedes, his arms tightening around you. "After all, who could resist the allure f’a quiet, magical Christmas night?"

In the gentle glow, Harry's eyes meet yours with a magnetic pull, and the world outside seems to vanish. His arms envelop you, creating an intimate cocoon that shields you from the outside world. The soft strains of holiday tunes linger, providing a subtle backdrop to the unspoken language of desire that fills the room.

The air is thick with a sweet tension as Harry's lips find yours in a series of passionate kisses, each one deepening the connection between you. Both of you smiling into each others mouths, your hands find the peach fuzz at the back of head neck, whilst his find habitat on the groove of your bum.

The room transforms into a haven of shared intimacy, where the only language spoken is that of desire, and every touch is a brushstroke in the masterpiece of this moment.

The heat of the moment intensifies as you lose yourselves in the magnetic pull of each other. The world outside continues its hushed existence, oblivious to the crescendo of emotions echoing within the room.

The bed, usually shared with the comforting presence of his parents, felt empty, and a sense of curiosity tugged at his tiny heart. Arlo, with his baby blanket in tow, embarked on a solo journey down the hallway.

The plush carpet beneath his little feet muffled his steps as he approached the top of the stairs. The house was still cloaked in the tranquillity of the evening, and Arlo, with wide eyes and tousled hair, peered down into the living room below.

A strange sound caught his attention, and he instinctively clutched his blanket a bit tighter.

At the bottom of the stairs, a tableau unfolded. His mother, adorned in her pajamas, was locked in an embrace with Santa Claus—or so it seemed. Arlo's innocent gaze widened, his imagination dancing with the possibility that Santa himself had arrived early to share a moment with his mom.

The festive glow of the Christmas tree provided an ethereal backdrop to the unexpected scene.

Unaware that the figure beneath the Santa suit was, in fact, his dad, Harry, Arlo continued to observe with a mixture of awe and confusion.

08:21am. 25th December, 2023.

The Christmas morning sun spilled into the kitchen, casting a golden hue on the day's festivities. As you walked in with Arlo nestled on your hip, the air buzzed with the promise of holiday magic.

However, a quiet tension lingered as Arlo, unusually reserved, gazed around the room with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry, donned in a festive apron, stood at the stove, the sizzle of eggs providing a comforting backdrop to the scene. Arlo's silence persisted, his little mind undoubtedly preoccupied with the mysterious encounter from the previous night.

As you settled into the kitchen routine, the atmosphere held a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. Arlo's wide eyes shifted between you and Harry, his silence becoming a palpable presence in the room.

The bewilderment in his gaze hinted at the lingering confusion from witnessing the unexpected kiss with Santa Claus.

With each passing moment, the unspoken question hung in the air. Harry, flipping eggs with a practised ease, stole a glance at Arlo, sensing the inner turmoil of his young son. The parental instinct to reassure tugged at your heart as you navigated the morning, your steps mindful of the unspoken query hanging in the air.

After the hearty Christmas breakfast, Arlo, still harbouring the mystery from the previous night, toddled over to Harry.

His little arms reached up, a silent request to be lifted. Harry, ever the doting dad, scooped him up onto his hip, planting a cascade of playful kisses on Arlo's cheek. The room echoed with the sounds of affectionate giggles.

As Arlo settled into Harry's arms, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing around to ensure that you were nowhere in sight. Satisfied that the conversation would be just between him and his dad, Arlo took a deep breath, his eyes serious.

"I have something to tell you, Daddy," Arlo announced in a hushed voice, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret.

Harry, playfully intrigued, raised an eyebrow and encouraged him to spill the beans.

With an air of importance, Arlo whispered, "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus."

The words hung in the air, and a mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes. Harry's reaction, however, was unexpected.

A loud, hearty laugh erupted from Harry's chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Arlo, momentarily perplexed, couldn't help but join in the infectious laughter. Harry, wiping away an imaginary tear, managed to compose himself and leaned in with mock seriousness.

Harry brought his face closer to his mini-me and brought his voice to a quiet mock whisper.

“Tell m’more.”

[reidsaurora]

"Overnight" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Spencer offers to clear out a drawer for Y/N in his dresser, it has him explaining some things he'd been hiding from her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (i think? i don't remember using pronouns in this lol)

Word Count: 814 why is she so short

Content Warning: allusions to sex but nothing in detail, mild mentions of nudity i guess, this whole fic is basically aftercare lol, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff, what else did you expect out of me?

Extra Notes: i truly meant for this to be posted on time, i'm so sorry guys

Based On the Prompt: "The Things In That Drawer" from this year's @domaystic prompts

Originally Written: 05/08/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (i love you literally so much)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Nothing could get Spencer Reid in a sappy mood like a night of slow, passionate sex. Something about moments like these—the way he showered you in kisses, the sweet compliments he'd give you, the love he'd show you—just felt right. Like his embrace was exactly where you needed to be.

Spencer's hand settled on the soft skin of your hip, drawing various shapes with his fingertips. Your head rested against his chest, your hand moving up to his tummy. He placed a soft kiss on your hair, the scruff of his five-o'clock shadow scratching against your forehead lightly. "I love nights like this," he told you.

You craned your head to face him, kissing his cheek. "I do too. I just hate that it always ends so quickly," you said, thinking about the work nights where you had to head home early, not quite ready for the night to end but knowing that you needed to go home for a change of clothes.

"You know," he said, pausing to flip the two of you over, his body hovering over you, "I could always clear a couple drawers out for you."

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd been hinting at the idea for a while, lamenting about needing fresh panties or complaining about missing your skincare regimen. But Spencer hadn't seemed quite ready to take that step yet, so you didn't pressure him.

"Wait, are you serious?"

He nodded, bending down to kiss you on the lips this time. "I'll even let you pick out which one you want."

You practically pushed him into the floor as you jumped up. Spencer chuckled as you ran over to the dresser, pulling his boxers back on.

You pulled out the second drawer, where you knew his tee shirts were, grabbed one of his giant ones and tossed it on. "Any of them?"

"Mhm," he hummed, walking over and settling his hands on your waist. "Whichever one you want."

You considered it, eventually deciding on the bottom drawer. "What about-"

"Wait, Y/N, don't-" he shouted, reaching out to stop your hand.

He was too late, though. You pulled open the drawer, revealing an entire drawer of nerdy memorabilia. The lightsaber was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by a sonic screwdriver, and a couple geeky Pop Figures, among other things.

"You have a lightsaber," you examined.

Spencer scratched awkwardly at his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do."

You grabbed the lightsaber from the drawer, your face lighting up as you turned it on. "You have a lightsaber!"

He chuckled as you poked him in the ribs with the lightsaber. "You're having too much fun with this."

You set the lightsaber down on top of the dresser, turning back to the drawer. Next, you pulled out the infamous Jason Voorhees mask, holding it in front of your face. "Please tell me you've scared your coworkers with this."

Spencer let out another chuckle, taking the mask from your hands. "I got Morgan with it one time. He nearly choked on his coffee."

You continued snooping through the drawers, sifting through Polaroids of Spencer and his friend Penelope at various conventions, some D.C. comics, and a couple signed posters. Your heart nearly flipped when you spotted a picture of him dressed as the Joker. "Who did your face paint?"

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

A squeal escaped your lips as you threw your arms over his shoulders. "Spence, this is adorable! Why would you hide this from me?"

He sighed, somewhere between relieved and exasperated. "I didn't want you to think I was weird. I mean, I'm a grown man and I have a collection of legos and Batman comics?"

"Spencer, I think it's cute that you have something you love so much. You don't have to be afraid to show how much you love and support it."

He bent forward to kiss you again, pulling your body flush against his. "You really mean that?"

"I mean, any man that has the balls to wear makeup like that in public is sexy in my book," you kidded.

Spencer diverted your attention back to the drawer, pointing his chin toward the dresser. "Is that really the drawer you want?"

"Does it come with all the nerdy memorabilia?" you teased, poking his chest.

"In your dreams. I spent good money on those things." He rolled his eyes, leading you to the bathroom. His hands were warm and big on your bare skin, the feeling absolutely heavenly. He placed a trail of kisses along your shoulder up to your head before hooking his chin over your shoulder.

You lifted your head to face him, kissing his jaw. "Hey, does this mean we can go as the Joker and Harley Quinn for Halloween?"

"You know what? I think that might just be something out of my dreams."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

[libraryofloveletters]

The Christmas Market

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: home sick reader, pierre is trying his best, christmas markets, cheesy couple stuff, pierre is kinda sweet when he's not being an ick, pierre can't skate for shit, cooties as these kids would say.

Word Count: 718

Author's Note: again, my charity of the month writing the man. y'all know I don't fuck with this man like that lmaooo - for @2-fast-2-curious cause this is her pookie

--

You were missing home quite a bit and Pierre decides to indulge in one of your favourite holiday traditions.

Home sickness was no joke and it was kicking in big time.

You lived in Milan since you had applied to go to University there. You moved during your first year and fell in love with the place and with a certain formula one driver who lived there as well.

As much as you've come to love Milan and Pierre, you always went home for the holidays. For the last three years, you were home for Christmas and in France for new years with your boyfriend, Pierre and his family.

This year was much different, your studies kept you in Milan a lot longer than expected and you would be missing out on a lot of your family traditions.

No tree decorating, no cookie decorating and no Christmas market.

Pierre being the sweet boyfriend he was, was trying his best to cheer you up as much as he could. He usually waited until a week or two before Christmas to get his Christmas tree but this year, he bought the biggest artificial tree one could find and about a million and one ornaments to see if he could improve your mood.

And for a bit, it did work. The 5 hours it took you two to put the tree together, your mood did improve but the next day, it was back to focusing on your exams and the lack of Christmas mood was apparent.

He offered to bake cookies with you but you turned down his offer; you typically baked your mom's famous and secret cookies but you didn't have the recipe, hence the secret part.

Pierre was running out of ideas but then an ad for the Christmas market popped on his Instagram.

He finds you on the couch, finally popping your laptop for the afternoon. "How about a date night?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Babe," you groaned, letting him pull you up. "I'm not really in the mood."

"C'mon, some fresh air will make you feel better. You've been glued to your laptop all day."

"Fine," you gave in, the two of you getting ready. Pierre didn't give you any idea as to where you're going other than to dress warm. You figured you'd probably walk to dinner or something but you weren't - he opened the car door for you, driving to some undisclosed location.

To be honest, you weren't paying much attention to him or where he was going until the car came to a full stop, Pierre turning off the engine. You finally look up from your phone to see the sign in front of you; Christmas market.

"You didn't," you turn to face your boyfriend.

The man smiles, nodding. "I know it's not the one at home but, it's still a Christmas market so I hope that counts."

"Of course it does!" You reach over to give him a kiss, your hand resting on his jaw softly.

Pierre gets out of the car and you mirror his action, the two of you holding hands as you walk into the market.

The Christmas trees planted around the place, the lights wrapped around the roof of each stand, the sound of laughter and cheesy Christmas music filled your ears, as did the smell of gingerbread. You two decided to make the rounds.

You walked through the market, taking in all of it. Pierre let you drag him to every booth, buying you whatever your heart desired, even the ridiculously overpriced hot cocoa. You took photos as you went, stopping in at the photo booth; the classic ones of you two smiling, giggling and kissing with the stamp at the bottom - Milan Christmas Market 2023.

The night wrapped up with you attempting to teach Pierre how to skate. His hands in yours as you carefully took him around the skating rink.

He falls against you, you're pinned between him - a man struggling to hold himself up- and the barricade. "Did you have a good time?" He asks and you nod, a smile on your face.

"I did. Thank you for this, baby."

Pierre leans in, almost slipping but he catches himself as he kisses you. There's a little boy skating by, doing better than Pierre you might add, who makes a face at you two kissing. "Ew!"

You and Pierre can't help your laughter.

[carpe-mamilia]

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Bloomsbury has acquired a companion book to the BBC television series “Ghosts”. Katy Follain, head of Bloomsbury general, acquired UK and Commonwealth rights to Ghosts: The Button House Archives from Paul Stevens at Independent Talent. It is her first acquisition since she joined Bloomsbury. The companion book will be published on 26th October 2023. “Ghosts” was first broadcast in 2019 and has been nominated for multiple national comedy awards. It returns for the final season this September. The tie-in book is described as “a hilarious, colourful and entertaining compendium of surviving artefacts and documents relating to the ghosts of Button House’s past lives”. Ghosts: The Button House Archives will be written by Mathew Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond – six of the ghosts who also co-starred in the franchise Horrible Histories. They will be signing books at events around the country in the run-up to Christmas. They said: “We started kicking around the idea of a ‘Ghosts’ companion book quite early on in the life of the series and got very excited about how the characters could show up in all kinds of documents and artefacts. We’re delighted to finally be bringing this idea to life with Bloomsbury to produce something we hope fans will treasure.” Follain added: “To be working with this hugely talented group of writers on the tie-in book of such a massively popular comedy series is complete heaven. It combines everything I want the non-fiction Bloomsbury General list to be: quality and best-in-show entertainment with broad appeal. It is the perfect Christmas gift and I’m looking forward to seeing the fans dressed up in their favourite ‘Ghosts’ costumes for the events.”

[silly-honeybee]

What Blue Lock boys would get you for Christmas🎁

Edit: only old fic I’ll not delete as ppl seem to like this one lol

~🐝 Happy late Christmas my lovely sillies! I have been rlly busy lately so I haven’t had time to write💔 so I hope you enjoy this lil headconon on what the Blue Lock boys would get you for Christmas!

~~~

Characters: Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, Nagi, Kunigami, Reo, Kaiser, Alexis, Hiori

Headcanon ~ Fluffy fluff ~ fem!reader ~ not proofread

Warning(?): mentions of bras and panties in Kunigami’s part. (don’t know if that makes anyone uncomfy or not so I’m putting this here)

~~~

start~~~🐝

Bachira Meguru

Silly things. He’d get you some silly and unnecessary things—

Like he’d probably get you a shirt saying “I love pizza” or something stupid😭

But he’d also get you some pretty cute things.

Anything matching, plushies, shirts, bracelets, etc..

He is indeed a goofball(we love him for that), but of course he knows how to give serious gifts(somewhat)..

The wrapping would be horrible, I gotta say that.. probably a bunch of holes basically revealing what the present was before you even opened it.. (he’s trying his best)

Oh well, whatever he gets you just know that he means it with a lot of love💕

Isagi Yoichi

He’d probably get you nice things for the winter, like a fuzzy sweater, scarf, boots..

Or he’d find a cute dress that he thinks would look nice on you, if you don’t like dresses then a cute pair of shorts or pants..

But, in general he would make sure to get you something he knew you liked, he thinks about you a lot, yk? ^^

(This is rlly short I’m sorry🙏)

Chigiri Hyoma

This man will spoil you.

You like Sanrio? Sanrio it is. You want makeup? Makeup it is. You want the full series of your favorite book? Books it is!

He never disappoints on Christmas, he knows what you like even if you haven’t told him—

Like he just noticed a certain detail of you having quite a few of this and that. He’d then proceed to Google about it and then find nice things from it🫶

Nagi Seishiro

He’d probably be a little clueless on knowing what you’d want.. (not in a rude way).

So what he does is probably look back on the comments you made on certain characters you two have played in a game or what not. And the ones you liked he’d find some merch of that character..

Kunigami Rensuke

He’d definitely be brave enough to casually walk into the woman’s section of Target and get you a brand new bra and panties.

Based on his sister’s at home, they always seem to complain about their bras becoming loose and slack after a year..

So he assumes that maybe that happens with you too? He wants you to be comfy at all times💕

(I love this man😭)

Reo Mikage

He’d also spoil you like Chigiri, but probably in a more *ehem* Reo way..

Like he’d get you tons of stuff, too much to count. This man has money💰🤑

Every. One. Of. Those. Gifts. Have been thoroughly thought through as he was buying them.

He wanted to make sure everything was perfect💝

Michael Kaiser

Probably getting you something fancy..

A fancy robe, shoes, dress, etc..

Would also treat you to a restaurant date, Egon or something idk 🤷‍♀️

Alexis Ness

He’d get you anything you want😭

He’s such a sweetheart about it too, he would wrap your gifts in cute wrapping paper.

Every one of the gifts having a little tag in the shape of a heart saying: “To my love, from Alexis💕”

He’s such a cutie istg😭🙏

Hiori Yo

You two probably played animal crossing at some point together, so he’d definitely get you a plushie of whichever one was your favorite character!

He probably would accidentally reveal the gift before you opened it.. oopsie💕

~~~🐝 end

~🐝 I’m so sorry if some of these were short😭 like idk how to write for Kaiser,I sagi or Nagi- and there is no Rin included here bc I have no idea how to write for him🧍‍♀️ anyway! I wish you sillies a lovely rest of 2023💕

See you guys next year😋🙏 (I’m so funny haha)

Also look at this Bachira plush I got for Christmas AAAAAAA MY BBY😭 MWA MWA💋💋💋

[jmvore]

As wild thoughts won here's a little idea,how about getting jimin pretty jewellery and dressing him up making him feel pretty,could add cross dressing too and maybe encouraging him to go on a date like that as a way of expressing his feminity

Pretty in Diamonds

» rating › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » warning(s) › MOMMY!KINK, smut, jimin naked and wearing diamonds, jacking jimin off in front of the closet mirror, cum eating, calling jimin nicknames, telling jimin he's pretty. sweet talk turns into dirty talk real quick. » words(s) › 1.9k+ » post date › 12/14/2023 » song playing › got to be with me by black buddafly » a/n › so I got carried away and didn't include the cross-dressing (I completely forgot) but I hope you like this version.

"Jimin!" You call his name as you enter the door with a giant present. You don't know where he is within the house, but you know he's home. He told you he was. Plus, his car is outside. "Petal! Where are you?" You sing, placing your purse on the entryway table and throwing your keys into the bowl.

The lights are off downstairs so the only place he could be is upstairs (or maybe in the basement but you doubt it).

"Sweetheart?" Heading upstairs, you hear the shower running, but instead of surprising him, you decide to wait for him on the bed. Coat off and hung away in the walk-in closet, heels kicked half-hazard by the door. You'll shower afterward, eager to give him his gifts right now. To pass the time, you scroll through your Amazon cart to see which gift you want to buy him for Christmas.

You don't realize the water has stopped, and the door swings open. Jimin walks into the bedroom with only his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he dries his hair with a towel.

"Oh hey, You're home!" Jimin says, grabbing his water bottle off the dresser and taking a swig. "I thought you were going to be late?"

"Seokjin sent everyone home for the night. Something about not wanting people to feel overworked."

"Oh." You wave for him to come closer as he eyes the box next to you. " What's this?"

"Something for you, my love." You hold the box to him with a soft smile, though your eyes shine excitedly at his reaction. "I hope you like it."

"Cartier?" Jimin eyes grow wide at the name on the box. "That's exp-"

"Nothing is expensive when it comes to you, Petal." He avoids eye contact the moment you take his hand, but you notice the pink dust that makes its way across his cheeks.

"What is it?"

"Open it." You notice his Adam's apple bob. "You'll like them, I promise."

He nods, tearing at it to open the bigger box, when he notices two smaller boxes inside. He gasps, head snapping back to look at you.

"Darling, really?" He asks, eyes bugging from his head.

He's so cute you wanna kiss him silly.

"Mhmh." You don't give him room to argue, pushing the box closer. "Open them."

He does it with quickness. One of the boxes containing a body chain while the other contains a necklace that connects the pieces together. He holds the jewelry in between his fingers as he inspects the silver chains.

"You didn't have to."

"I know but I wanted to."

He grins. You didn't have to get him anything but he knows that arguing with you is impossible because you love spoiling him.

"Do you like?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jimin hugs you tightly and leans down to kiss you, but you stop him with an index finger to his lips. "I love it. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, honey. They had one that would've gone around your waist but I didn't want to overwhelm you with gifts. C'mere, Try them on."

"Help me?" You nod, pulling him to stand in front of you. The jewelry is easy enough to figure out. When he finally gets it on, you can't help but drool at how hot he looks. Your focus lingers on his chest as you reach out and trace the jewels that outline his chest with your fingertips. He leans into your touch, his eyes filled with emotion. You feel a spark of electricity shoot through you as he leans closer to kiss you again.

This time you give him what he wants.

"I love you so much." You nip at his bottom lip when he pulls away, eyes closed but with a satisfied smirk on his face. He twists a bit, trying to look at it from behind but he can't see it.

"Well? How does it look?"

"Gorgeous." You look him in the eye to convey your sincerity. His heart races as he takes a deep breath and giggles, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. An overwhelming sense of joy overtakes you. You're glad he's happy. "Now. Strip."

"Huh?"

You turn around and pat him on the behind.

"Strip."

"R-Right now?"

"Yes. I want to see you wearing nothing but the jewelry, Petal."

"Okay." You can see the way his eyes shift and the way he fidgets with his thumbs gives it away. He's nervous. His body language speaks volumes as he seems anxious and unsure about himself. He seems uncomfortable in his own skin. He keeps glancing around the room as if he is searching for an escape.

You stop him before he gets inside of his head. Encourage him to slow down, take a deep breath, and go at his own pace.

Telling him he's worth the wait.

"Petal."

"Yes?"

"Look at me, please." He does when you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss, gently. He looks away shyly, her cheeks flushing harder than before. You watch him run his hands through his hair before shaking it out. He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a ray of emotions. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing."

"No." You grab both his hands and shake her head. "None of that. Tell me, Petal."

"I dunno. I jus-" He frowns, hesitating before speaking. His voice barely more than a whisper, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh baby. No." You wrap your arms around him and hold on tighter. His body feels warm against yours. You don't want to let him go. "Look at me." You caress his chin and bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. You feel like you're looking into the depths of his soul. You both stand there, connected, in the moment. He can sense the warmth and love in your expression. He feels safe and protected in your arms. "I know it's going to take some time to undo all the hurt they caused but I'm willing to work but you have to work with me."

"Do you trust me?" You walk backward to sit down on the edge of the bed before holding your hand out for him and pausing. Waiting for him to answer.

"I do."

"Let me show you're worth it."

When Jimin steps closer, he drops his pajama pants, revealing he has nothing on underneath. You start caressing his chest before running your nails down his stomach, his muscles tense at your touch.

The feeling was a bit overwhelming.

You help him fix the chain that wraps around his chest, the jewelry making his chest look bigger than it is but it makes him feel so classy. so delicate. so beautiful.

you scoot to the front of the bed where the mirror on the closet sits. opening your legs, he sits between them and leans back into you. you know he's eyeing himself from head to toe.

"How do you feel looking at yourself, my love?"

"i-" Jimin's breath hitches the moment you put your hands on his waist and give it a soft squeeze. you move to sit on your knees and hug him close. your chin sitting on his shoulder.

"tell me how do you feel, petal?"

"pretty. it looks pretty on me." you smile as he shyly glances down. it makes you want to hurt the ones who hurt him because who would even think about tearing this angel down.

"ah, ah... eyes up sweetheart."

"darling..."

"you know what I think?" you ask, trailing your finger down the expanse of his stomach again. you watch a chill run down his spine as he shakes. "I think you look ravishing. the diamonds bring out your eyes and it makes me want to worship your body while you wear them."

jimin whimpers, closing his eyes the moment you reach for his cock. you know he's sensitive to the touch if the way his cock is leaking says anything. red, swollen and oh so pretty, just like he is.

"i'm close..."

"I know you are. you know what I want you to do?"

"No..." He moans. The warmth of your tongue he feels climbing up the side of his neck causes him to shudder. He leans into you, his lips parting slightly, his heart racing. You press soft kisses to his neck, your lips lingering for a moment. "H-Honey..." His breathing quickens the closer you get to his ear. His heart thumped in his chest as you turned his head so he was able to look at you.

Finally, you pull away, leaving him wanting more.

"I want you to watch yourself cum all over my fingers." You watch him through the mirrors with no desire to turn away. "I want you to know I'm doing this because you deserve it. You deserve to be loved and taken care of, Petal. I don't care what anyone else told you because they're wrong. You understand me?"

"Yes! Yes! Please." He whines, his moans of pleasure growing louder the more he lets himself go. He's so wet. His pre-cum drooling from the tip as you use it for lube to make it wetter. Sloppier. "I'm gonna cum..."

"I know baby." You chuckle at the way he grips the covers around you, trying his hardest to not lose control but it's getting harder the more you keep going.

"Please..."

"What do you want, Petal?" You ask, slowing down a bit but not enough for him to lose his high. "Tell me what you want."

"To cum. P-Please let me cum, Mommy!"

"Tell me, how do you feel, petal?"

"I feel so pretty!" He yells, rocking his hips harder as he finally hits his high as he cums all over your hand. Some hit the floor, and some hit the mirror (you'll have to clean that later). He watches as you stick your cumcovered fingers into your mouth and lick it off. Salty but satisfying to see him bite his bottom lip. "Fuck..."

"Feel good?"

"Yes... Thank you."

"You're welcome, Petal." You grin, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Next time I'm going to dress you up so pretty, petal. You'll look like my beautiful flower. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"No. What to we say, Petal?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. Now, you wanna know the reason I bought this?" Jimin falls back on the bed as you climb on top of him. He shakes his head and of course, you can't help but chuckle at how exhausted he looks.

"Why?"

"Because I know you'll look fucking gorgeous when I fuck you while you're wearing them."

If Jimin could pop another boner, he would because fuck that would be so damn hot.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck yes." You lean down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning as he leans up for more.

"I know you would but right now we have pressing matters?"

"What's wrong?"

"We have a business dinner we have to attend."

"Tonight?"

"Tomorrow. So if you could, I'll need you home by seven if you can. I know sometimes your classes run late." You trace his chest as he huffs, loving the feeling. "And, I want you to wear the diamonds."

"Why?"

"Everyone else needs to know how gorgeous you look in them. They just won't get this view." You wink, collapsing next to Jimin and cuddling into his side. He pulls you so you're lying on top of him as he takes you in.

"I love you."

"And I love you, Petal."

And well, he doesn't mind it at all because he loves how you care for him. Your desire to make him happy is evident in how you treat him, and he feels lucky to have you in his life. He knows that no matter what he does, he won't be able to repay you for all that you've done for him.

© 2020 - 2023 » JMVORE || » All Rights Reserved.   DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!

[goldenseresinretriever]

Daddy’s Queen

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe but can be read as a stand-alone

CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, fluff, smut, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is a repost from my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Series Masterlist

“Jake we’re going to be late!” You call from the bathroom where you’re currently drying your hair, still wrapped in a towel.

“We’re just waiting on you, Bunny.” He says, entering the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe to look at you. Once upon a time, you’d shy under his gaze at you in so little but this may as well be a part of your routine every morning. Today, however, you really don’t have time for him to bend you over the bathroom counter.

That thought leaves your mind as you turn to see what he’s wearing. You snort out a laugh, almost dropping the end of your towel. “Jake, what IS that sweater?” He looks down at it innocently.

“I wear this every year to the holiday party, Bunny.” Your eyes bug out at the cavalier admission. Jake’s sweater is green with bright red letters across the front that spell out “DADDY” lined with obnoxious golden trim around them. You’re about to ask exactly whose daddy he thinks he is when Pudding appears in the doorway in a matching sweater that reads “DADDY’S PRINCESS” and you can’t help the way your heart aches fondly at the sight of them.

“Okay, it makes more sense now that I’ve seen Princess P.” You admit as you cross over to the walk-in closet to get dressed. Jake remains respectfully in the doorway, giving you privacy as you put on your underclothes and pull on his favorite pair of jeans, searching for a sweater to go with it. Just as you’ve selected one that you think will match Jake’s enough, he enters the closet, shaking his head gently as he plucks the sweater from your hand and returns it to the rack, reaching over your head to his row.

“Not so fast, Bunny, did you really think we’d leave you out?” He hands you another sweater that matches his and Pudding’s, with the words “DADDY’S QUEEN” emblazoned across the front. You can’t help the snort that escapes your lips.

“You can’t be serious.” You raise an eyebrow at him as he hands you the sweater and you take it hesitantly.

“As the grave, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face. “It’s our first Christmas as a family, I want you to join in on the traditions.”

“Your Christmas tradition is being called Daddy…?” He shrugs nonchalantly, his smile twisting into a playful smirk.

“I mean, if you insist.” He’s full-on grinning now and you swat at his chest, laughing as you pull on the matching sweater. You roll your eyes at his antics as you pose in the sweater.

“What do you think? Do I look like a queen?” You give him a little spin and he chuckles softly as you gaze back at him over your shoulder.

“A spitting image, Bunny. You look absolutely beautiful.” You scoff at his sweet words.

“Jake I’m wearing an ugly, and dare I say itchy, Christmas sweater, there’s no way I look beautiful. I look ridiculous at best.” He makes a show of scrutinizing you before he shakes his head, holding out a hand to you, leading you into his arms without hesitation where he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Nope, you look positively beautiful to me; radiant, a goddess amongst men.” You snuggle against the itchy fabric on his chest, content to soak in the love radiating off your boyfriend.

“Jake, we’re going to be late.” You whine with absolutely no bite, making no move to escape his warm embrace. You’re almost disappointed at the idea of having to leave the comfort of your shared home to socialize with your friends and colleagues for the next few hours.

“A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early.” You giggle as he quotes the Princess Diaries into your hair, pressing another kiss there. He’s just about convinced you to linger a moment longer when the beeping of the oven yanks you back into the present.

“The cookies!” You yelp as you disentangle yourself from Jake’s arms and sprint towards the kitchen, slipping along in your socked feet. Jake and Pudding follow behind you and Jake swoops in to take the tray out of the oven. You scrutinize them as he replaces the oven mitts before joining you. “What do you think? Do we have winners?”

“I’ve never lost a cookie contest with Meemaw’s recipe, Bunny, and I don’t intend to start this year.” The two of you had spent the morning whipping up a batch of Jake’s meemaw’s famous Christmas cookies to take to the Christmas party at Mav’s house. Everyone had been instructed to bring cookies that would be judged until the best Christmas cookies were identified. “Your majesty, who would you deem our greatest competition?” Jake asks as he starts fishing around for a Tupperware big enough to house the army of cookies while they cool.

“Are you kidding? Mickey and Bob, easily. Do you remember the tamales Mickey brought to Thanksgiving? I think I cried actual tears. That man has a GIFT.” Jake groans as he produces a huge Tupperware from a cabinet.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about those. Imagine if Mickey’s Abuelita and Meemaw met up? I think that would be death by a home-cooked meal.” Jake has a faraway look in his eyes and you can’t help but indulge the fantasy.

“Where does she live? I’ll buy the tickets.” You sigh before turning back to your cookie inspection. “Is Javy a good cook? He’s from NOLA, right? Surely he has to be.”

“He’s not bad with the microwave if that’s what you mean.” Jake snorts and you gape at him. He shrugs. “Momma Machado? A fabulous cook. His aunts, his grandmother? Excellent, you would weep. Hell, I’m sure even his sisters are incredible cooks, but Javy? The man could burn water. He got spoiled rotten by all that good cooking growing up so he never bothered learning.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You giggle as you pick at one of the uglier cookies, pinching off a bit and groaning as you drop it onto your tongue. “Oh Jake, these are positively sinful.”

“Oh, I don’t think they’re the only thing that are positively sinful.” He smirks, leaning against the counter across from you. You roll your eyes, going to him as if drawn by a magnet. You hold up your crumb-covered fingers to his lips and giggle as he wraps his tongue around the digits, cleaning them, his eyes darkening with a promise for later. You shiver slightly and go to step back before Jake’s arms trap you, pulling you against his chest. “Now where do you think you’re going, your majesty?” His eyes glint with lust as you sigh, trying desperately not to give in to him.

“I’m going to the Christmas party. You coming, Daddy?” You cock your head, pouting up at him slightly and you watch his cocky expression fall in shock at the title and you squirm free of his hold as it falters, sprinting for the flat closet to grab your shoes. You hear heavy footfalls behind you and squeal as Jake’s arms wrap around your middle, swinging you up into his arms. You thrash around, laughing as he buries his face in your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Oh I’m coming, your majesty. But you’re going to have to do something for me first since you created yourself a little problem.” He gives you a pointed look and you glance down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

“Nothing small about that problem, Daddy.” You say coyly, trapping your lower lip between your teeth as Jake groans and you watch his cock twitch under the taut material. “We’re going to be late.” You reiterate and Jake just presses his forehead to your temple, groaning again.

“Bunny, you’re killing me.”

You coo softly at his plight and stroke his cheek gently. “Just let your queen take care of you.” You slip out of his arms as he places you safely back down on the floor and you slip down to your knees on the hardwood, gazing up at him through your lashes. Later you’ll be able to take all the time you want but for now, you’ll have to be quick. Thankfully Jake’s already painfully hard when you slip him out of his jeans. You coo gently at the sight of the angry red tip that’s leaking precum before licking a generous stripe up his length. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater before spitting into your palm and using your hands to spread the slick over his shaft. “Jake?” You ask softly and he cracks open his squeezed eyes and you could melt at the love in them. “Try not to mess my hair up too bad, okay?” He chuckles as he brings a strong hand to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ll do my best, Bunny.” You get right to it then, once again reminded of how late you’re about to be, taking him as best you can, bobbing your head around his swollen shaft as best you can as you try to relax your throat to take him deeper. Jake groans above you, his hand on your cheek sliding into your hair, guiding your head where he needs you. You feel saliva and drool pooling at the corners of your lips and panic at the thought of it dribbling onto your new sweater but Jake’s one step ahead of you, his other hand coming to catch the slick from falling. You give him the best appreciative look you can manage with your mouth full of him that he returns with a soft smile glowing with love before you hollow your cheeks, sucking at his length and he hisses at the pressure. You can feel him starting to twitch in your mouth and you keep up your ministrations until he’s spilling down your throat. You pull off his length, cleaning him up with gentle licks doing your best not to overstimulate him. When you finish, you lay your cheek against his jean-clad thigh, blinking up at him, a sated look on your face mirroring him.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.” You murmur and Jake strokes your pink cheeks as he gazes down at you with a look of pure adoration.

“Merry Christmas, my queen.”

***

Jake helps you get cleaned up and thankfully your sweater remains unscathed even if Jake has to change his jeans due to him sacrificing them to wide your drool on. You pack up the cookies while he gets changed and when he comes back you hand him the box, snagging his keys and dancing ahead to the garage. “I’m driving!” You declare as you make your way to the truck. Jake deposits the cookies safely in the passenger seat as you help Pudding into the back before coming back around to swing you into the driver’s seat.

“A queen on her throne.” He remarks playfully as he buckles you.

“I prefer my other throne.” You toss back coyly and he gives you a look that promises that you’ll spend plenty of time on it later that night before going back to the other side of the truck.

“You better start driving or we’re going to be more than just late.” He remarks as you pull out of the driveway.

“Whatever you say, Daddy.” You chirp and you hear him groan next to you as you giggle.

[prolix-yuy]

A Bearable Weight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: New Years Eve is the holiday of new beginnings, and you take a leap to see if Javi might be one of them.

Word Count: 3k

Story Warnings: T, plenty of sweetness, more ridiculousness because I can't help myself, some lightly spicy kisses. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Notes: I had to get these two to New Years. They were just too cute to leave hanging. I hope each and every one of you reading this waves goodbye to anything that made your 2022 difficult and enters 2023 with open arms and excitement. Now let's see where the new year takes Javi and Conejita!

Cross-posted on AO3

The restaurant is smaller than you thought it might be, unassuming in a strip of businesses. The sign for it is understated, white lettering on a black rectangle with a thin gold border - Aperitif. You’ve been studying the sign, and the door below it, for well over ten minutes, the chill night air creeping up your bare legs. The new dress you bought for the occasion - black, tasteful but a little sexy, an amount you’re comfortable with - weaves around your knees when a breeze makes you shiver. You look down at your heels again, still torn between whether the glittery gold is too loud for your personality or loving that they make you feel festive. Your hair is styled, your makeup is perfect, everything is ready for you to go inside.

And you’re still rooted on the damn spot.

Javi texted you a few times since the first voice message. Every new phone alert made your heart jump, evolving to a flutter when it actually was from him. He sent you photos of his friends’ Christmas tree, their dog plopping her head in his lap, the snow outside a fogged up window. He also asked you things about yourself, some that you expected and others that made you stop and smile. 

What food will you eat if you’re having a bad day?

Best movies adapted from books?

Did your sister like the message?

Your sister did indeed, and after catching you grinning at your phone several times throughout the long weekend finally made you confess how you got it. Her elation over the serendipitous meeting was only eclipsed by your hesitation over seeing Javi again.

“Are you serious right now? Cute, funny, probably loaded, a dork, sweet, and definitely into you? I will drive you there and drop your ass on the sidewalk if you don’t do it yourself.”

So you accepted the invitation, which was accompanied by a string of excited texts filled with details and one that made you tingle from head to toe.

Thank you for accepting. I hope you will consider what I asked you in my first message. But only if you’re comfortable. I really like talking to you, no matter what.

A beat, then…

If you’d like to be mine, this year.

You did. Holy hell, you did. But you were also a classically trained overthinker, and the days leading up to New Years Eve were spent Googling and riding the rollercoaster of excitement and dread. The Gutierrez family had an online presence, and not all of it was good. Luckily it seemed like Javi wasn’t in the crosshairs, but the more you learned the more convinced you became that this was going to be a shitshow. Wealthy, influential, a lover of the arts and gorgeous in every photo you find, your hopes got buried a little deeper with each word.

He told you it was going to be a party, nothing large, but the idea of being in your department store dress among the elite of society made you want to cancel. Go out for coffee instead. Let yourself down gently when you realize how different your worlds are.

But then you find a voicemail - a missed call from Javi:

“Hi conejita, I hope all the texts have not been too much. I realize that you barely know me, and I am maybe moving a little too fast. I get…ah, well, I get excited. You have made me very excited, and I want to be, you know, ‘cool’ about it, but I am not so great at that. Anyways, I am…hah, yeah, excited to see you tomorrow. It will be a lot of fun. And, um…we don’t…I only want what you want, conejita. So let’s just…see where the night takes us. I know what I feel, but I…I only want you to…to know…agh! I am messing this all up. Sorry, this message is so long now. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m…I’m really happy to see you tomorrow. Okay, bye.”

What’s the harm, you thought after listening to the message three times. If it’s terrible you never have to see him again.

Another breeze ripples over your skin, finally making you move towards the door.

And if it’s amazing?

You smile to yourself and enter the warmth of the restaurant.

Aperitif looked small from the exterior, and the interior is about what you expected. It could maybe seat 30 fully booked, but the dining room has been cleared out in favor of buffet servers against the walls, the ivory bar lined with champagne glasses and eager bartenders shaking cocktails. The handful of people chatting inside don’t look like heiresses or oil barons. Your shoulders relax a fraction.

“Name?” the man at the door asks, a short list in his hand. You give yours and are ushered in, a drink immediately put in your hand and a string of metallic gold beads tossed over your head by a waitress.

“Happy New Year!” she says, taking your coat. You slip into the crowd looking for the only person you came here for - Javi. But his caramel curls and exuberant laugh haven’t reached you yet.

“I love what they’ve done with the decorations!” a cheery voice exclaims over your shoulder. You look around, then up to see a delicate web of black and gold streamers holding balloons precariously above you. One single streamer hangs to the floor behind the bar, which an olive-skinned hand points to. “I think at midnight they pull that.” You turn to see the woman speaking to you, and she’s...normal-looking. Peppy brunette with a sharply cut bob, sparkling brown eyes, and a glittery top with black slacks. Maybe you had nothing to worry about.

“That’s fun, I haven’t been out on New Years in ages,” you say, taking a sip of champagne. The bubbles tickle your tongue pleasantly. It’s good, much better than any champagne you’ve had at parties.

“Oh then you’ve come to the perfect place! Who invited you?” she asks, finishing off her glass and placing it on a waiter’s tray as it floats by. 

“Javi,” you say, a little shyly. He mentioned that he was hosting it, but you had no clue who the other guests were. How long could you keep up the facade?

“Of course! How do you know him? I’m a long-lost cousin myself, been out of the loop for a while, but it’s nice to see him again.” She waits expectantly, and if you didn’t feel like throwing up before you definitely do now.

“Uhhh, we met…on a flight…” you start to say, working through how the hell you were going to explain the circumstances of your meeting to a stranger, when her eyes light up.

“Oh my GOD, it’s you!” she gasps, grabbing on to both your shoulders. “Javi told me about the girl on the plane on his way here. That story, the way he tells it, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. And you’re here! Now! I have to find him, he’ll be so excited!” She squeezes your shoulders again with a little squeal before darting through the crowd, a nervous giggle smothered in your hand.

He told people about you. 

He told people about you in a way that made him sound happy.

You could burst, the light inside you is so expansive. 

You’re about to follow when a large palm circles your bicep, turning you gently around in the crowd.

“You came.”

Javi says it like a prayer, like he believed but never thought a miracle would grace him. His curls are swept back from his face in tantalizing waves. He’s in a gray blazer, a navy button-up with some abstract patterning hanging onto his broad chest for dear life. The top three buttons already gave up the fight, chest dewy with the humidity in the room. But it’s his face that melts your anxieties away. His eyes drape warmth over you, fondness in their depths that he only hinted at in his messages. His soft smile lashes your heart into a gallop, breaking into one of your own.

“Of course. How could I miss it?” you say, winking when his grin widens. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, hand spreading across your lower back. 

“I am so happy to see you, conejita,” he whispers, raising goosebumps along the nape of your neck. 

Oh, you’re in it deep now.

As the night continues more people file in, filling the small space with chattering conversation. You find the bubbly brunette again, who introduces herself as Julia, and get to talking about houseplant care and aggravations. She’s unpretentious, passionate, and makes you feel like you belong. Honestly, most of the people do. As the night wears on and you shake more hands and spark more conversations, it dawns on you why these people are all together tonight. This is Javi’s circle, people who understand him and bring him joy.

Bashful happiness that you might bring him joy settles in your chest.

Javi scoops you up every few minutes, guiding you to new groups or asking you if you’ve tried something. The upscale pigs in a blanket are your personal favorite, snagging a whole tray for yourself when a waiter walks by. You’re almost embarrassed, but Javi’s crinkled smile as he tries to steal one and gets his hand slapped is worth it.

A murmuring begins by the entrance, a flocking to the door. Javi comes to your elbow, leaning on one foot and placing his warm hand on your lower back. He’s been doing it to you all night, every time you stand beside him, but it’s never less thrilling.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, your third glass of champagne fizzing delightfully under your skin. He catches someone’s eye in the crowd, gesturing them over.

“Just a good friend who came to visit.”

You almost choke on your sip of bubbles.

“Nicolas. Fucking. Cage,” you scoff to Javi under your breath as the man himself emerges out of the crowd. He’s bee-lining your way but stops to shake hands and engage in polite conversation. His emerald velvet jacket contrasts the burgundy button-up underneath nicely, but the faded Dad jeans and white tennis shoes clash adorably with the ensemble. “You could have warned me!”

“Your reaction was well worth your annoyance,” Javi placates, pressing you forward as the crowd falls back.

“How are you doing Nic? How’s the family?” Javi asks, pulling the famous actor in for a hug. They give brief updates, you standing back a step awkwardly. Debating on slipping away, Javi introduces you to Nic and pulls you back into the conversation.

“The girl on the plane,” Nic says, and if you ever thought his speaking affect was fake you’re certain now it’s genuine. He takes your hand in both of his, shaking it earnestly. “I heard your sister is a big fan. I hope she liked the message, I know it was a little rushed but, last minute on the holidays, you know…” You shake your head, fighting back your sister’s scream in the back of your mind.

“She was over the moon. Thank you again for doing that, it was very kind of you,” you say, trading a secret smirk with Javi. It’s a harmless lie, but the fact that he’s perpetuating it makes you even giddier.

“Well next time you’re at one of Javi’s parties you should bring her. I love meeting fans,” Nic says, giving you a pat on the shoulder and peeling off to get himself a drink. Javi slides back to your side, the laughter you’d been suppressing squeaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Clara’s gonna die. I’ll have to lie to her to get her in the same room as Nic,” you sputter, leaning into Javi’s side as he puts an arm around your shoulders. Frenetic energy dissipating, you savor the solid breadth of his chest, that delicious citrus bite of his scent. He holds you there, and after a moment his cheek presses against the side of your head. He inhales, your face burning when you realize he’s smelling you. 

“That’s it, you’re a wizard or something. No one can grant as many wishes as you,” you tease, twisting to look into Javi’s face. The crows feet and wrinkles smooth as he looks at you, eyes darting from your own to your lips and back again. “Thank you,” you finally say, letting him slide his arm down to pull you into his chest.

“It is I who should be thanking you, conejita. I’ve been living a full life, a better life in recent times, but it feels that much brighter when you’re close to me.” His touch is hesitant when his fingers graze your jaw, his hold loosening on your back. It’s all broadcasting only what you want. He would chase you if you let him, though if you stepped away now he’d let you. But in those touches are the longing to be more than acquaintances. And in this room you thought you’d never belong in, you feel safe, and seen.

Over the chatter and laughter swirling past, you talk. About Javi’s life, and your own. Your work and what you love to do. His love of movies, your love of old houses and national parks. Your mutual dislike of overused CGI elements and predictable jumpscares. He strokes your back, your arm, as you speak, sometimes needing to break away to say hello or answer a question, but unfailingly coming back to you. 

As the final minutes near, you voice the question burning in the back of your mind.

“Javi, you’re so…” you gesture at this posh, gorgeous man standing beside you. “You’re so far out of my league I can’t even see you. And I know I’m a catch,” you interject, gesturing at yourself now with amusement. “I’m a snack, I’m a whole meal, I don’t deny it. But I’m more like…Applebees than Wolfgang Puck.” You wave your hands, banishing the jumble away. “I guess I just don’t understand why…me. Here. Tonight.”

Javi’s brow furrows, his mouth tightening into a pout as he casts his gaze down. Waiting is torture, needing to know if this is just a little thank-you or something more. 

“One minute!” someone shouts, the excitement in the room ratcheting up another series of degrees as everyone gathers in the center of the restaurant. Javi leads you to the middle, the throng of people parting enough to give you some space inside it. Once your feet stop, he sweeps you into another embrace, this one firmer. His eyes roam your face, searching for something before he speaks. 

“As much as I love the old movies, I do not believe in love at first sight. I believe in attraction, and common interests, and support. I believe in two people finding each other in the most unusual way and taking it as a sign. And when the universe gives you another chance and it only makes you want that person more, well…” Javi trails off, one hand coming up to curl around your head, his thumb stroking the hinge of your parted jaw. Your eyes must be hopeful because he barrels on.

“Well, I am not one to overlook lightning striking twice. And you are…you are not an…apple bee?” he asks, confusion twisting the words. You shake your head and pat his chest.

“It’s a, like, chain restaurant. Sorry, doesn’t make a lot of sense if you haven’t heard of it,” you murmur, stroking a finger along his lapel. 

“But that’s just it, because I don’t agree with that. You are so much more than I wished. I feel like…not like a puzzle, but like…two rivers meeting. Both strong on their own, but together, mingled, are in harmony.”

“Okay everyone, get ready, on ten!”

“Javi, what are you…”

“Nine!”

“I want more of this, conejita. I want more of you. If you’ll have me too.”

“Eight!”

“I…do, but I just…it…it feels so…complicated.”

“Seven!”

“We do not need all of the answers now. Just one.”

“Six!”

“Which one is that?”

“Five!”

“Will you let me kiss you tomorrow?”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Yes, Javi.”

The restaurant erupts in cheers of “Happy New Year!” as people hug and kiss and celebrate. One of the waiters pulls the crepe paper cord and balloons tumble from the ceiling, packets of foil confetti dumping and exploding over the crowd. If you were paying attention you’d laugh, reach your hands up to the ceiling and try to catch handfuls of the glittering shower, but you’re preoccupied with Javi’s gentle smile before he pulls your lips to his.

If this kiss was a precursor to how your next year would go, magical might be a good descriptor. Or explosive. Swoon-worthy maybe. But perfect might be the best. Javi’s first chaste press is followed by deeper kisses, his full lips covering your own with quiet little pants. When he pulls back enough to see your kiss-drunk face his whole demeanor lights up, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you through the crowd.

Once tucked away on a bench in the back of the restaurant, he proceeds to kiss you with more fervor, tongue slipping against yours tentatively. He only interrupts the worshipful makeout with touches to your face like he still can’t believe you’re here. Covering his hands with your own, you tilt your head to one side.

“I feel like this is going to be a very good year.”

Javi’s sweet smile turns just a fraction devilish, and your heart flutters with it.

“Better than I could have wished for."

END

Part 3: A Gift of Light and Joy

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Peter Pan & Wendy (2023) - Thoughts

A little bit of brief background here; I’m a huge Peter Pan fan. I grew up loving the Disney animated film but the 2003 live action has always been the superior Peter Pan adaptation to me; Peter Pan holds a special place in my heart as my late nan who I was close with used to take me to the panto every Christmas, and my favourite ones were always Peter Pan.

So without further ado: I watched the new Disney’s Peter Pan & Wendy that came out on Disney+ this weekend!

First, some live watching thoughts:

This movie is literally carried by Ever Anderson as Wendy, like no disrespect to the other cast but she literally carried this film in my opinion

By the way, anyone complaining about it being Wendy’s story is an idiot because the story has ALWAYS been Wendy’s story, ever since Barrie wrote the play and novels. Regardless of which version you watch, it always starts with her lamenting about not wanting to grow up and ends with her acceptance of the fact she must grow up - it’s HER journey, her development.

I have no idea why Disney/Lowery chose to cast two separate actors as Mr Darling and Captain Hook but I’m NOT a fan of that choice. Even in the animated film, they’re voiced by the same actor - it’s a part of Peter Pan tradition to have the actor play both roles, so it’s baffling that it’s not the case here.

I really wish this film had spent a little bit more time BEFORE Peter arrived to show us more of each of the children and also the relationship between the children and their parents. The film opens with a nice little scene of John and Michael sword-fighting whilst Wendy prepares to head off to boarding school, and then she joins them and their father scolds her for “this is how you choose to spend your last night in the nursery” and “you’re too old for this sort of fun”, which definitely works… but it’s very quick paced and it rushed by so quickly, like the film kind of just spends only a few minutes establishing “Wendy is being sent to boarding school the next morning; she doesn’t want to grow up; her parents want her to be a better role model to her brothers” and that’s it.

Also interesting to note that Wendy is not in a nightgown in this version but some kind of pyjama-ish undergarment outfit, plus a dressing gown

Wendy aggressively reading a book in her bed… same though

Nana appears but only in brief moments 😭 WE DESERVED MORE NANA! In this version she’s kind of more just a pet - they never mention that she’s the Darling family’s nursemaid and looks after the children, and there’s a brief flash where (I think) you see a young Wendy cuddling her as a puppy… like??? She’s not just a dog, she is not just a pet, she is the finest nursemaid on four paws because the Darlings can’t afford to hire one.

“I want things to stay the way they are.” “Perhaps I don’t want to grow up.” — same, Wendy, same

“Just imagine all of the things you would miss out on if you didn’t see where it took you… and all the things the world would miss if you weren’t there to do them.”

Mrs Darling’s lullaby was lovely by the way

Yara Shahidi as Tinkerbell is BEAUTIFUL. I love her facial expressions, and even though there’s less attitude and she’s not jealous in this version, I still love her

I know that the film was supposed to film in 2020 but Covid shut things down so they didn’t film until a whole year later, and obviously children grow very quickly… but Peter’s voice is so deep in this version, you can tell Alexander Molony hit puberty during lockdown. I feel bad for criticizing a kid about it because it’s not his fault, but it can’t be denied that he’s older than Peter is supposed to be. Ever Anderson was also 13-14 when filming actually happened, and while it’s slightly less glaringly obvious with her, she’s definitely a tiny bit older than most versions of Wendy. I think it’s more obvious with Alexander though because of the deep voice.

This version makes it seem like Mrs Darling is the storyteller and Wendy isn’t, which kind of bugs me to be honest but oh well

Let’s be honest, no adaptation will ever top the “Flying” scene from the 2003 version - that was a whole masterpiece in itself. This version does do a nice enough job though, all things considered, even if the CGI doesn’t always look quite right

I don’t want to slam how Neverland looks because I’m aware it was filmed in Newfoundland in Canada, which I don’t doubt is a beautiful place - what I will say is that I don’t know if there was some kind of ultra real gritty filter added on it if it’s something else, but to me it just wasn’t colourful enough. Neverland is supposed to be magical and vibrant and like a dream, not 100% rigidly realistic. They could have made Skull Rock shaped at least somewhat like a skull for God’s sake, just as an example

“Smee, make a note my cabin needs a new door.” “Yes… might I say, captain, that’ll be your third door this month-“ “and it won’t be the last.” — okay, I had a little giggle here, I won’t lie

Jude Law’s version of Hook has heterochromia which is definitely interesting - I wonder why it was included though, like what purpose does it serve the story

Wendy meeting the Lost Boys changed from Tink telling the boys to shoot her out of the sky and them nearly murdering her, to her washing up alone and running into them and Tiger Lily, which is definitely a choice

AHHHHH TIGER LILY SPEAKING CREE, SHE IS ALSO LITERALLY A PRINCESS IN EVERY SINGLE WAY LIKE HOW SHE SPEAKS AND CARRIES HERSELF

I am genuinely still on the fence about the Lost Boys including girls but at the end of the day… whatever. It’s not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. I still find the “but you’re not all boys” “SO?!?” exchange cringey though, not gonna lie

Wendy’s response to the above being “well I guess it doesn’t really matter”, so true

I think it’s a good thing that the Lost Boys include non white and disabled kids (Slightly has Down syndrome) but also I really hope those kids stay off social media for a while because the absolute nastiness being flung around about them (especially Slightly) is disgusting

The Lost Boys being like “she’s too old” “she’s too grown up” 💀 that and Mrs Darling’s “darling, you barely fit in your bed” comment feel oddly meta and about the actors growing while filming was delayed

Wendy Moira Angela Darling realising her brothers have been captured by pirates: “…oh dear” 💀 the timing of it was perfect though lmao

Tell me that Smee did not just use the phrase “compatriots of you-know-who” in front of a man who played Dumbledore 💀

John: We don’t care about your rules, we came with Peter Pan! // the entire pirate crew eavesdropping outside: *groaning/gasping*

PIRATE SEA SHANTIES FTW

Peter Pan really disappears from this movie at about 20 minutes in (after appearing for the first time only 10 minutes beforehand) and doesn’t reappear until a whole 15 minutes later?!?

“I’ve found you guilty of being a child - and we can’t have children in Neverland” — IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?!? (Hook was in fact deadly serious)

NOT TEDDY LOSING AN ARM 😭

Who the hell did Peter think he was tricking with that absolutely terrible disguise, it looks like stuck a mop on his chin for god’s sake?!?

Wendy being shocked that Peter is showing off as if that isn’t his whole personality summed up 😶

“Oh brother, Hook’s singing again” - I CACKLED IM SORRY

“Proud and insolent youth, have at me!” — I GASPED I TELL YOU, GASPED

PETER AND HOOK’S SHADOWS HAVING THEIR OWN SWORD FIGHT OH MY GOOOOODDDDDD

“Oh, Wendy… you’re still alive!” ASDFGHJKL

OH HOOK PLAYED DIRTY AND HE SAID HE LEARNED HIS BAD FORM FROM PETER DIXNDMALZPZOZL WHAT IS GOING ON

“For to die would be an awfully big adventure” - THAT’S THE MONEY LINE RIGHT THERE

“SHE’S A WENDY!!!”, and all that ran through my mind was the Barbie meme:

Wendy finishing Hook’s sentences and cutting him off each time ASDFGHJKL we love a know it all

AHHHH ITS TICK TOCK THE CROC, I was so scared they’d forget about the crocodile so I’m happy he’s here

THE SEQUENCE WITH THE MUSIC AS HOOK IS RUNNING AWAY FROM THE CROC ASDFGHJKL COMEDY GOLD

WENDY FUCKING SLAPPED PETER ACROSS THE FACE AND IT DID A MOVIE MAKER CIRCLE FADE OUT ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW WTAF-

“It was an adventure, wasn’t that what you wanted?” “Yes but I didn’t think it meant being shot out of the sky by pirates” — yeah, that’s a valid point I guess

Poor Tinkerbell just twinkling and getting absolutely ignored :/

“You have a magical fairy that makes you fly! And a gaggle of children that do your bidding with a princess that cleans up your messes while you’re off gallivanting with pirates” — OOF, also Tinkerbell and Tiger Lily both smiling and nodding their agreement of Wendy’s words asdfghkl love to see girls supporting girls

Wendy throughout this whole movie is pretty much just the “I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now” meme

You’re telling me the Lost Boys hideout is no longer hidden in a tree but a GIANT tower?!? Not exactly hidden now, is it?!?

Wendy and Tiger Lily together having one of the best scenes in this movie, you love to see it ❤️

So what I’m getting from this adaptation is that instead of the Lost Boys actually getting “lost” and not claimed, Peter waits for them to say “I don’t want to grow up” then whooshes in and brings them to Neverland…

Okay so Wendy is still kind of seen as the storyteller in this version…? The kids ask her for stories so…?

“Wendy can be our mother” “goodness no! I don’t even know if I want to be a mother!” — I have thoughts about this??? On the one hand, I’m a book purist and for me I’m like “she does agree to be their mother tho??? That’s why she was brought to Neverland???” (And also she canonically has a daughter called Jane) but on the other I’m like “fair enough” because a) she’s a child and b) you can’t force people to have children if they don’t want them. Idk

Im 90% sure Wendy’s hair changed from a side parting to a middle parting at some point but I don’t know where or when it happened

Wendy singing a lullaby, which is actually a nice callback to her singing “Your Mother and Mine” in the animated film

You’re telling me Hook and the pirates have never found their huge ass tower hideout and that Wendy’s gentle singing was loud enough to reach the pirates and alert them of their location?!?

JAMES?!? As in Hook?!?

“It’s a kiss - I made it for you” — ITS AN ACORN NECKLACE IM-

Peter and Hook used to be best friends?!? Hook was the first lost boy in this version?!? Lowery doing his own canon at this point, oh my god

This film really missed a trick, like it could have really heavily leaned into the dark side of Peter Pan with the whole “you must never leave” stuff he says 👀

This film really wanted to be the 2003 version so bad, like the moment where Peter walks away after their conversation about Neverland not being what she expected and Wendy calls “Peter!”… it wanted to be the Fairy Dance scene WAY too bad

Imagine walking down their stairs into a room, turning around and seeing your brothers/the whole gang of lost boys tied up and gagged 😳

Hook saying Wendy’s full name and later dragging his hook over the door was creepy ngl

HE JUST SLASHED PETER ACROSS THE CHEST

“Captain Hook… I don’t think I like this adventure” *falls down 20 feet* — EXCUSE ME???

You’re telling me Peter survived a) a slash to the chest and b) a 20 foot drop?!? I mean I know he’s magical and all but…?!?

Eyyy Tiger Lily to the rescue, the women truly run this film

“Then listen… *hums awkwardly*” - I genuinely can’t tell if this film is supposed to be this weirdly hilarious or not

Mr Smee was the one who found Hook and rescued him, I’m-

“This is what growing up looks like.” “No. This is what it looks like when you grow up wrong.” - OOF

HOOK SNAPPING WHEN SMEE CALLED HIM JAMES 😭

“Execute every last one of them” sounds so much worse than “become a pirate or walk the plank” like sir all they did was be kids who haven’t managed to hit puberty yet and you’ve got them all screaming like they’re about to be mass murdered (which they are) 💀

Wendy offering herself instead, “they’re only children, let them live!” - ma’am you are also a child?!?

“Let them live, they’ll be good pirates - especially those two” (meaning John and Michael)… I love Wendy stepping up and looking out for her brothers, especially given at the beginning of the film she full on blamed them for the whole mirror situation

Peter being super injured and unable to fly so Tiger Lily has to help him 🥹

Why does this pirate shanty as Wendy walks the plank actually slap hard though?!?

Tinkerbell lifting her little prison up and smashing Smee on the head so she can help Wendy, we love to see it

The fact that Wendy thinks happy thoughts stepping off the plank and it’s not just her childhood memories anymore (like in the flying to Neverland scene)??? She imagines growing up and the things she could do if allowing herself to grow up?!? 😭

The utter silence after she steps off the plank followed by Hook being like “… hang on, there was no splash?!?”

Tinkerbell damn near used every single bit of fairy dust in existence just to lift up the ship and play what is essentially a huge joke on the pirates is such legend behaviour lmao

“You have the boy’s magic.” “No, this magic belongs to no boy!” — HELL YEAH WENDY YOU ARE ALWAYS THE MAIN CHARACTER

I’ll be honest, for a film where Peter is billed first he has done VERY little besides a small duel, get stabbed and nearly die twice

The depressed pirate who goes “well wake me up before one of them kills the other… again” is such a mood lmfao same

It’s interesting that it’s Wendy with the flight skills as she fights and Peter without the flying I guess??

Wendy and Tiger Lily are literally saving every single other character’s asses at this point, like they’re the only reason anything has happened in this film

Rotating the entire ship was not something I thought I’d ever see and yet here we are

Peter falling off the upside down ship and Wendy catching him?!? And the fairy dust rubbing off onto him??? (Literally what even has Peter done in this film I feel bad for saying it but…)

I kind of like the idea that Peter and Hook intentionally don’t kill each other because both of them live for their battles and it’s almost like a game, a cycle, that Neverland lives off of? Idk if that makes sense lol

“Oh captain… Grow up.” - I CHOKED SHE GAGGED HIM

Peter grabbing Hook by the hook so he won’t fall and saying “I’ve got you James, just think happy thoughts”…???

“Peter… I haven’t got any…” AND THEN HE FALLS, DETATCHED FROM HIS HOOK?!? I KNEW HE DIDNT ASDFGHJKL BUT LIKE THIS?!?

I’ve literally only just realised that the Teddy has a fork as a prosthetic arm 💀

“It’s time to get these lost boys home” - what she REALLY means is “let’s take them back to my place and I’ll tell my parents I’ve adopted ten children on their behalf” 💀😂 that part always makes me laugh in any adaptation/version of the story, I won’t lie

So basically no time has passed in the real world while they’ve been in Neverland? No Mr and Mrs Darling keeping the window open for when their children return???

“Boy… why are you crying?” - IM SHAKING, CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP I HAVE CHILLS

You’re telling me Peter lived in the exact same house as Wendy as her brothers???? That’s why he kept returning to that house, not because Wendy believed strongly in him or he liked her stories but because it was his old home?? 😶

“I’m just a story, told to any child who’ll listen” - oof true. Kids today don’t really know Peter Pan anymore, which is super sad - they know Tink but they’re not as familiar with Peter Pan these days

“You know, Peter… after all this… I think that to grow up… why, it might just be the biggest adventure of all. Just think of all of the things that could be right around the corner that you’re missing out on. Think of what the world is missing out on with you not being there to do them.” 👏👏👏

THE SHIP LITERALLY RIPPED THE CHIMNEY OFF GOOD LUCK PAYING FOR THAT GEORGE

Wendy crying as she says goodbye to Tink 😭 “and please don’t forget about me”

WENDY BEING ABLE TO HEAR TINKERBELL SPEAK ASDFGHJKL BEAUTIFUL… “thank you for hearing me” - I DONT CARE, THATS SO POETIC???

Wendy carving her name under Peter’s so now it says “Peter Pan + Wendy” 😭

Hook is still alive?!? I don’t know why I’m so shocked at this point lol

The way Hook and Pan smiled at each other when Peter returned, oh boy here we go again

The end credit animations are so pretty omg

So, overall… it’s not the worst Disney remake. It’s truly not that bad, at least not enough to warrant racist morons bombing it with one star reviews. It’s definitely not a patch on the 2003 version, at least not in my opinion - that one will always reign superior, at least to me.

Some things:

I definitely feel like this film was carried by Ever Anderson as Wendy, she literally did the most and seemed the most well suited for her part overall

Jude Law was actually better than I thought he would be as Hook, Jason Isaacs is still my favourite but Jude is alright

I think Alexander Molony had the right spirit, I just think that he wasn’t given all that much to do and also it was very noticeable that he was on the cusp of adulthood already. Had the film been filmed when intended and not delayed, I think his performance would have come across better

The other kids and the pirates were super fun too, but not really given a lot to do either, which is sad. Would have loved to see more of Jim Gaffigan as Smee though

Yara Shahidi as Tinkerbell and Alyssa Wapanatahk as Tiger Lily were also amazing and big standouts, shoutout to them both!

Mentioned this above but will mention it again: I don’t understand what the point of casting a separate actor to play Mr Darling was. Yes, as I mentioned, there’s the dual casting thing - but also Mr Darling was in this film so little that there was zero sense in hiring a whole other actor to do the part??? He’s literally got a total of like one and a half minutes screentime?!?

Putting the crocodile in just the one single time was a fucking crime, I tell you! Why was he only in one single scene?!? 🐊

The CGI wasn’t the worst I’ve seen but it definitely could have been a bit better

Here’s the thing: the original animation was 1h21 and this one is 1h46… and yet this one felt way more rushed for some reason? It’s like the film hits the basic plots, like ticking them off, but doesn’t actually embellish or explore them properly. It’s just so rushed and the film suffers for it

I truly think this film would have benefited from letting us get to know the Darling children even better at the beginning before Peter arrived, because the most developed of the three is Wendy and all we know about her is she’s going to boarding school and her parents want her to be a better role model/set a better example for her brothers. All we know about John and Michael is that they’re Wendy’s brothers and they like to play fight - they don’t really feel like proper characters, they’re literally just there

I’m still waiting for a Peter Pan adaptation to just bite the bullet and give us that flash forward of Peter visiting an older Wendy, meeting Jane and taking Jane to Neverland - the 2003 version did film it but it’s deleted and the special effects aren’t done on it (you can watch it online but still)

I want to know where in Barrie’s text it says Wendy wanted to become an airplane pilot or that she actually fulfilled that ambition… ?!?!

The soundtrack was good - not the masterpiece that James Newton Howard’s is but still pretty good

Overall, I’d give it a 6/10 maybe. It wasn’t the worst Pan movie or adaptation out there but it’s not the best either, at least in my opinion. It IS one of the better Disney remakes though, and if it had been a bit longer and had a better budget then I’d say it should have had a theatrical release because the cinematography is STUNNING. It’s just that it very much feels like they rushed the story and had a smaller budget than hoped for.

[achillean-archives]

*Note: This post isn't about if this Ken in the Barbie movie is going to be queer but that he is inspired by a Ken doll that "accidently" became a queer icon. Ryan Gosling's Ken in Barbie(2023) is based on the famous best selling Ken doll, Earring Magic Ken, also know as Fey Ken or Gay Ken.

"Mattel had conducted a survey of girls asking if Ken should be retained as Barbie's boyfriend or whether a new doll should be introduced in that role. Survey results indicated that girls wanted Ken kept but wanted him to look "cooler". USA Today noted after the American International Toy Fair that the doll Soul Train Jamal was also wearing an earring that year. According to manager of marketing communications for Mattel, Lisa McKendall, "We tried to keep [Ken] as cool as possible." This generation of the Ken doll had blond highlights in his traditionally brown hair and was dressed in a lavender mesh shirt, purple pleather vest, a necklace with a circular charm and, as the name indicates, an earring in his left ear.

These clothing choices led to gay commentator Dan Savage joking that Mattel toy designers had "spent a weekend in LA or New York dashing from rave to rave, taking notes and Polaroids." He also suggested that little girls' idea of coolness was shaped by homoerotic MTV music videos, Madonna's dancers, and what ACT UP/Queer Nation members were wearing to demonstrations and parties. Donna Gibbs told the San Francisco Examiner in November 1993 that the team of (presumably straight) women who made the doll were surprised that gay men wanted him.

[...]

In July 1993, Dan Savage wrote an article on Earring Magic Ken titled, "Ken Comes Out." He noted in his article that, in addition to his outfit's perceived flamboyance, his necklace resembled chrome sex toys that queer people were wearing as charms at the time. Savage expressed feelings of ambivalence about Ken's new style, writing, "Queer Ken is the high water mark of, depending on your point of view, either queer infiltration of popular culture or the thoughtless appropriation of queer culture by heterosexuals [. . .] Queer imagery has so permeated our culture that from rock stars (Axl Rose and his leather chaps) to toy designers, mainstream America isn’t even aware when it’s adopting queer fashions and mores."

[...]

Kitsch-minded gay men responded to this press by buying the doll in record numbers, making Earring Magic Ken the best-selling Ken model in Mattel's history. The doll debuted in stores for around $11 (equivalent to $20.63 in 2021) and had completely sold out by the Christmas season, largely due to gay men buying the doll in droves. Due to high demand, Chicago's FAO Schwartz created a wait list, and, allegedly, some shops in San Francisco began to sell Earring Magic Ken for prices ranging between $17 (equivalent to $31.89 in 2021) to $24 (equivalent to $45.02 in 2021). (The latter claim was disputed in the Bay Area Reporter in October 1993 by the general manager of San Francisco FAO Schwartz. According to him, only a few gay men were coming into his store, and Earring Magic Ken was selling better in New York and Chicago than San Francisco.) Earring Magic Ken was also popular with gay men in the United Kingdom, and sold well at the toy shop Hamleys in 1993. Toy scalper Mr. Barger told the Wall Street Journal in 1996 that Earring Magic Ken was so popular that he was able to re-sell him to specialty shops at premium prices. Richard Roeper, writing for the Chicago Sun Times, referred to him as "The Cabbage Patch Doll of the summer of '93."

A major appeal of the doll for many gay men was that Mattel did not market it to them on purpose. Rick Garcia, director of Chicago's Catholic Advocates for Lesbian and Gay Rights, told People magazine in 1993 that the stereotypical dress was funny to him because he believed it was an accident, and that it would have offended him if it was purposeful. In 1993, many newspapers interviewed individual gay men in California to understand the phenomenon. San Francisco resident described Earring Magic Ken as, "a pariah setting foot in one of America's sanctuaries." Another California resident, Bill Harley, described Earring Magic Ken as, "A campy, funny thing to have." Laguna Beach resident Keith Clark-Epley had more reservations about the toy, saying that, "It's an uptight heterosexual male doll following gay fashion and who is still behind the times," and believed that calling the doll gay could potentially reinforce negative stereotypes about gay people." Source:

[perseephoneee]

meeting santa Claus. With Klaus from Academy Umbrella

meeting santa klaus (klaus hargreeves x reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 9 of ficmas!

a/n: i forgot how much i missed writing for my baby boy. my favorite klaus (sorry mikaelson).

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Much like everyone else in the world, you lived under the assumption that Santa Claus was a larger man with a long beard, rosy cheeks, and a jolly troupe of reindeer. While the reindeer part is correct, the rest of it is horribly wrong and something that will haunt you for years to come. 

You discovered the truth of the universe when a long banging, followed by much swearing, could be heard in your living room. It was Christmas Eve, but you had been alone since your roommates had gone home for the holidays. You were spending the day alone, not wanting to deal with family politics this year. This is why hearing any sounds was very alarming at this moment. Afraid of a burglar in your house, you held your phone in one hand with the finger over the 911 button and a plunger in the other. You had no great weapons and felt that at least you could whack someone with the toilet plunger. You tip-toed down your stairs, your heart beating erratically as you looked down over your banister into your living room. Someone dressed in a loose-fitting red suit was cursing in your living room as they struggled to get some stuff out of a sack. You snuck into the living room, plunger above your head, and were entirely ready to attack when the burglar looked up with wide eyes at your weapon. You both started screaming. 

“What are you doing in my house?” you yelped, jumping back as the intruder sat up. 

“Is that a plunger?” he asked, voice confused. On closer inspection, he was a skinny man with thin facial hair and kind blue eyes. He looked a bit eclectic, and he was dressed like Santa. 

“My house, why are you here?”

“Funny story, actually,” he drawled hands on his hips. He was wearing Chuck Taylors. You had never seen someone dressed as Santa wearing Converse. “I am…Santa.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, seriously, I’m Santa! Santa ‘Klaus’ to be exact,” he raised his hands in front of him as if in surrender. You pocked your phone but kept your plunger weapon up. 

“And I’m Krampus,” you deadpanned, not believing him. 

“Technically, my name is just Klaus, and my brother is Santa,” he laughed, eyeing your plunger with a small degree of fear. “In my family, one of us inherits the role of being Santa every generation. However, he decided he wanted a break this year, and I had to deal with it. I’m not first born or a favorite of daddy dearest, so it shouldn’t be my post at all.”

You listened to his story with wide eyes and a level of confusion. 

“Anyway, here I am, being Santa Klaus for everyone this Christmas, and I have to say, I have no idea how my brother, Luther, does it. He’s a huge guy, and I fell down that chimney. Also, I’m exhausted and could use a drink. Got any tequila?”

“I’m sorry?” You were wondering if you were still dreaming. 

“Tequila? I swore off the drugs a while ago, but I still consider drinking okay.”

“Prove it,” you huffed. “Prove you’re Santa.”

“Oh heavens,” Klaus threw a hand over his face. He looked around, exasperated, before flicking his hand. Suddenly, all the decorations in your room were floating, and the lights flickered in a rhythmic pattern. You fell back into one of the armchairs in the living room, mouth open like a fish as Klaus set everything back to normal. Oh, you had to be still dreaming. This couldn’t be happening. You had a clinically insane Santa Claus, sorry ‘Klaus,’ in your living room, and you were armed with only a plunger. A candy cane was waved in front of your face. You looked up to see Klaus before you, apologetic as he handed you the candy. You noticed tattoos running up his hands and arms—a tattooed Santa Klaus. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Y/N. I hate scaring people.”

“How do you know my name?” you whispered.

“I’m Santa; I know everything,” he winked. You unfurled your candy cane and stuck it in your mouth, brain trying to catch up with everything happening. 

“Okay, you’re Santa. Santa is real. Santa is not one guy but a bunch of guys. Santa likes tequila.” 

“Luther hates tequila. I just like to rebel across the system,” Klaus smiles. It takes you a moment to notice that his Santa costume is red leather lace-up pants, a red robe, and a classic red hat that barely fits on his dark hair. 

“Punk rock, Santa,” you mutter, taking a bite from your candy. “How is, uh, being Santa?”

“Oh, it’s going terribly,” Klaus sighed, collapsing to the floor before you. His hand was thrown over his eyes like an old Greek statue. You said nothing about his state of dramatics. “I’m so behind. I don’t understand how this has ever been done in one night.”

“Do you use magic?”

“Of course,” he rolled over, his head propped up on his hand. Suddenly, an idea came to him, and he rolled towards you. You jumped back as his hands landed on the armrests of your chair, trapping you in. He smelled like a mojito– minty but also alcoholic. Mojitos were your favorite drinks. “You should help me!”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re by yourself, armed with a plunger. I’m in need of assistance, and I’m lonely,” Klaus was infectious with how he smiled at you. He was like an excitable puppy. “We can help each other! Make Christmas memories.”

“Why would I be helpful?” you ask.

“Because you’re a helpful person,” Klaus says, matter of fact. “You organize the homeless drive every Sunday, don’t you?” You would ask how he knows that but decide it’s likely magic, and that asking would leave you with more questions. Instead, you nod, confirming his question. “You have a big heart; you’re perfect for this job.”

“I’m…human,” you mutter meekly. Klaus grabs your face between his hands, effectively shushing you. 

“Me too! Mostly. Darling, you’re perfect.”

You decide that arguing with the fake Santa that wandered into your house wouldn’t be fruitful. Plus, you had no plans for Christmas except reading a good book and drinking mimosas. You ask if you can get dressed, but Klaus assures you that what you wear is fine. Of course, you wear a robe with pajama pants and smiley-face slippers. You and Klaus left out the front door since the chimney sounded like a bad idea. You guffaw at the sight of reindeer in your suburban street with a cherry wood sleigh. Klaus skips over like an excitable child and gives loving pats to all the reindeer. He shows you the proper way to pet them, and you giggle as Dancer and Blitzen lick your hand and try to steal part of your candy cane. Klaus lends a hand, and you climb into the sleigh. It’s so quiet outside that you’re shocked your neighbors aren’t hearing the commotion. You’re even more shocked when they don’t hear your screech as you take off into the air. Klaus grabs your hand in comfort, and you realize you like his presence. He’s mental, but he’s kind and somehow makes you feel completely safe when you should be losing your mind. 

What Klaus has in enthusiasm, you make up for in organizational skills. He gives you a magic skull key to help sneak into people’s houses (it feels illegal), and together, you double productivity as you drop off presents. You even steal a few cookies and some baklava from a Ukrainian home as you go. The kids were asleep on the floor as you snuck by to drop off your presents, and you were afraid they’d hear you as you moaned around the taste of the dessert. You stole some extra for Klaus, who reacted like you. 

You went to so many different countries you had never been to before, and the smile on your face was permanent as you soared across the skies with the real-life Santa. You wondered how you were chosen for such a treat, and you still wondered it as Klaus finally brought you back to your home at five a.m. on Christmas day. 

“Why me?” you asked, turning to Klaus in the sleigh as he eased the reindeer to a stop. He looked at you, confused. “Out of everyone that could’ve helped you tonight, you chose me. I just…don’t know why. I’m not special.”

“Oh, but you are; you’re so special,” Klaus grabbed your hands, running his fingers over your knuckles. “And I just like you. You’re kind. I could tell from your aura the second you tried to kill me with your plunger.” You chuckled a bit at that. 

“Thank you for choosing me,” you whispered. You kissed Klaus’ cheek, exited the sleigh, and bound into your house. You watched from your doorway as he became nothing more than a beam of light on the horizon. Climbing up your stairs, exhaustion finally crept into your bones, and you passed out immediately in bed. 

When you woke up and blearily descended your stairs, you were startled to find a present under the tree. You were even more pleasantly surprised when you unwrapped it and found one of the reindeer bells and a note from Klaus:

Call me. Even Santas use telephones.