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tthoroughfare · 2 months ago

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happiest season // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the gang's all back together for christmas! no matter how hectic life gets, you always make time for your end of year outing.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader ft. jesse and dina

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw. ellie fucking sucks at ice skating

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.1k

this fic is a part two to this blurb! i loved writing the dynamic so much i had to continue it... there will be more coming trust. *dutch voice* i have a plan. also i don't even like xmas that much so i have no idea where this came from. just felt right. i hope you all enjoy, and have an amazing festive period with your loved ones <3

gift bag in hand, you wander into the restaurant. there’s cheesy christmas music drifting through the speakers, a tree in the corner, lights everywhere; you immediately spot jesse and dina, the latter waving at you as soon as you enter.

“hey!” she greets when you walk up, standing to put her arms around you. “how are you?”

“good, good,” you reply, one-handedly returning her embrace before leaning down to give jesse a quick hug. “you?”

“good. i mean, life is fucking killing me in general, but y’know.” she sits back down, watching as you place your belongings to the side and shuffle your chair in. “where’s ellie?”

you shrug. “no idea, i haven’t talked to her today. probably isn’t even on her way yet.”

“most likely,” jesse adds, smirking.

“has anyone texted her?” you ask, looking between the two of them.

the couple share a glance, wordlessly confirming before looking back at you.

“uh… no,” jesse states.

“dude.”

you pull your phone out, knowing all too well what ellie’s like. even if she knows she has to be somewhere, she’ll stay up way too late; and if no-one gets in touch with her in the morning, she won’t be up and ready for it.

selecting her contact and calling her, you press your phone to your ear. she surprisingly answers after two rings, clearly walking down the street, wind whipping past the microphone.

“hello?”

“just checking you’re awake.”

“uh, okay, sorry, i’m literally… like, ‘round the corner.”

“hurry up, ‘cause the manager says if all members of the party aren’t here in five minutes we’re getting kicked out,” you deadpan, casting a smirk at your friends.

“very funny.”

you automatically turn your head when you hear the door open, both through your phone and behind you. ellie bustles through it, phone between her ear and shoulder, waving with her free hand before ending the call. she heads over to the table, taking the empty seat beside you. dina looks on, giving her an exaggerated offended stare.

“uh, the fuck, do i not get a hug?”

ellie rolls her eyes with a small smile, gesturing her over. “come here.”

dina happily totters over, leaning over ellie’s chair and wrapping her arms around her shoulders from behind. ellie shifts her hand, giving her forearm a few pats before she pulls away.

“happy?”

“yup.” dina sits back down, budging her chair in before clapping her hands together lightly. “okay. gifts before or after food?”

ellie scoffs lightly at her impatience. “i literally just got here.”

“you want everyone to say before, 'cause you want yours now,” jesse comments fondly, leaning an elbow on the table.

“… correct. but i really don’t mind, whatever you guys wanna do.”

“i don’t mind. we can do it now,” you add.

dina’s eyes flit between each of you mischievously. “can we do it now?”

“let’s do it now,” you confirm with a chuckle, leaning forward and pointing your hand at dina. “you first — your idea.”

she grins, reaching to pick up her gift bag and holding it out to ellie. “i got you.”

ellie takes it from her, smirking lightly as she takes out the tissue paper on top. her expression changes when she sees the first item, eyebrows scrunching and letting out a drawn-out scoff. “bro, what the fuck?”

dina laughs knowingly.

“what is it?” jesse questions, chuckling lightly. she just holds it up in reply, pivoting it back and forth so you can all see, avoiding eye contact with you. it’s a hot pink bullet vibrator.

“y’know… ‘cause you’re gay and stuff,” dina jovially explains, holding her hands up in gesture. ellie just stares at her, blinking slowly and holding back a laugh. “ladies’ll love it.”

“what ladies?” jesse remarks quietly, earning himself a light-hearted tap from ellie’s shoe under the table.

“anyway…” ellie gingerly sets the box down on the table, digging back through the bag. “thank you for that, dina.”

the rest of the gifts are sweet; she’d gotten her a dinosaur mug, her favorite chips, and a band tee. she holds them up in turn for you all to look at, placing everything back in when she’s done and thanking dina.

dina nods in acknowledgement, smiling warmly. you all look at ellie expectantly, who settles into her chair holding a clueless expression on her face.

“it’s your turn,” jesse reminds her after a moment of silence.

“oh, shit, yeah.” she sits back up, picking up her gift bag from the floor and passing it over to you, dragging the action out in amplified suspense. you grin, taking it from her gently. “thank you.”

dipping your hand in, you take out the first item. it’s your favorite scent of candle, one you always had on in your room. you’d never mentioned anything about it to her, but ellie was like that. always quietly noticing.

there’s another, bigger item in there, too. you pull it out the wrong way, turning it around to get a look; it’s a framed painting of your favorite musician.

“oh my god, this is awesome!” you say, looking at ellie. “where did you get this?”

“uh, i didn’t…” she trails off softly, looking down at her hands for a moment. “i made it.”

your eyebrows raise, smile widening. “no fucking way. you painted this?”

there’s a small, coy smile on her face as she nods. “… you like it?”

“you serious? i love it, this is like the coolest thing ever.” you look back at the painting, studying the fine details; it looks like it took her a good while. “thank you so much.”

“wait, i wanna see!” dina chimes in, reaching over the table for it.

jesse leans in as you pass it over, peering over her shoulder. “woah… this is good, ellie. why the hell weren’t you my secret santa?”

ellie tuts playfully, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “you’d have gotten coal.”

the rest of the gift exchange goes ahead, temporarily halted by the waiter coming to take your orders. you got dina; dina got jesse.

the secret santa was a silly tradition you’d upheld over the years. one that became more precious when you left high school, and you and ellie got into a different college as the other two. you still saw each other wherever possible, and had a group chat that was active daily; still, it was hard being away from your closest childhood friends. you found yourself missing just being able to text dina to come pick you up, getting drive-thru and talking shit in her car until the early hours.

every year when you were all home for christmas, you made a point of meeting up. while normally all busy with your own plans, no matter what, you’d always clear your schedule for at least one day.

after the meal, dina announces that she’s booked ice skating — to which ellie lets out a groan.

“why?” she complains, drawing the word out. “you know i’m horrible at it.”

“yeah, why do you think i made the reservation?” dina counters teasingly. ellie just gives her a look.

when you get down there, in the middle of lacing up your skates, ellie flops down next to you to put hers on and lets out a dramatic sigh.

you cast her a sideways glance, smirking fondly. “oh, shut up, it’ll be fun.”

“you don’t understand, i fucking suck.”

“get a penguin,” you respond, chuckling as you finish up, leaning back to wait for her.

she lets out a laugh. “no… embarrassing.”

“plenty of people have them.” you gesture out to the rink.

“yeah, they’re all ten and under.”

rolling your eyes, you train your gaze on dina already out there. she whizzes past fairly gracefully, dragging jesse along. “hold dina’s hand, she’s pretty good.”

“no, she goes too fast. i’d end up eating shit.”

“i think that’s gonna happen either way.”

she sighs lightly, pulling a dejected face as she finishes tying her laces. going to stand, you offer a hand to haul her up, keeping hold of it as you both dodder over to the edge of the rink.

you get on first, a little unsteady; you’re passable at skating, at best. ellie hesitantly places a first foot onto the ice, free hand clinging onto the side as she ungracefully enters fully. one of the skates almost goes out from under her and catapults her flying into the barrier; it nearly takes you out, too, sending you off balance.

failing to hold back from laughing at her, you give her hand a squeeze. “ellie, oh my god.”

“i fuckin’ told you!”

“look, you’ll be fine, just hold onto the side and i’ll, like… drag you.”

“real elegant.”

you raise an eyebrow, jutting your neck slightly forward in gesture. “rather fend for yourself?”

she pauses, sheepishly looking to the left, then back at you. “… no.”

“come on, then.”

it goes about how you expected, moving along at a snail’s pace, ellie practically white-knuckling the barrier. by the time you’ve gotten to the other side of the rink, dina and jesse have passed you twice; on the first, teasingly cackling at you, on the second, calling out, ‘losers’.

you pat ellie’s arm in jest, giggling at the exclamation. “don’t listen to them, they’re mean.”

not long after, you actually come up behind two people slower than you; a young boy and a grandma, trailing around the edge of the rink hand-in-hand. you deal with it for a few minutes, but the thought of being stuck behind them the whole time proves too irritating.

“we’re gonna pass these people,” you mutter to ellie, leaning in. “you’re gonna have to let go, and—“

she cuts you off, shaking her head vehemently. “no, no, no. dude, i can’t.”

“you gotta. literally just let go for like, two seconds, hold onto me while we go around. it’s chill.”

you were wrong — it was not, in fact, chill. essentially the second ellie lets go of the barrier, she panics and wobbles. that, in turn, makes her panic even more, and she completely loses her footing. calling out your name in comical distress, she goes down in a heap, automatically grasping onto the back of your jacket and bringing you down with her.

you crack up after the shock of hitting frigid, wet ice wears off. it seeps through your sleeves and jeans, goosebumps forming. “ellie, what the fuck?”

“i’m sorry,” she laughs along, sitting up and flicking the moisture off of her hands. “i’m so sorry.”

you manage to get over to the side and hoist yourself up. whilst you’re in the process of attempting to get ellie on her feet without being yanked back down, jesse and dina fly past again, cheering dramatically at the sight.

ellie turns to flip them off; the motion destabilizes her, and she topples and lands flat on her ass all over again.

later, when you’ve all hugged and parted ways, you’re in your childhood bedroom winding down when you receive a series of texts from her.

you head over to the corner of your room where you’d dropped your stuff on entry, taking your gifts out of the bag and rechecking. camouflaged against the interior, flat against the bottom, there’s a small envelope addressed to you.

opening it and taking out the folded paper, you can’t hold back from smiling. it’s a letter, decorated with silly stickers.

i just wanted to write you a letter to let you know how much i appreciate you :) i am very lucky to have you in my life and i always look forward to spending time with you even if we’re just hanging out in each other’s rooms and rotting.

i kinda struggle with getting to know people (woah shock) and when i first moved i was so fucking worried i was gonna literally have no friends LOL. but right from the beginning you, jesse and dina made it so easy. don’t tell them this because i'll never hear the end of it, but it was mainly you. you were always going out of your way to talk to me and include me and stuff, and it meant a lot. and at risk of sounding super weird as soon as i saw you, i knew you were going to be an important person to me.

back in school when we were applying to college, honestly i was scared that you were going to end up going somewhere different to me. like to the point i wouldn’t be able to sleep some nights because i’d just be up thinking about it. anyway, i’m so glad it all worked out. wouldn’t wanna do this shit with anyone else <3

love you always

ellie

heading back over to your bed to grab your phone, you text her again, letter sitting at the side of you.

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octoberautumnbox · 7 months ago

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The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice.

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt.

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up.

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment.

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face.

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up.

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth.

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well.

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point.

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze.

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair.

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair.

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful.

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control.

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same.

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out.

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night.

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night.

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots.

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?”

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it– I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs.

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you.

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat.

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker.

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more.

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense.

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement.

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp.

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love.

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much.

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile.

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in.

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you.

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives.

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can.

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video.

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it.

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one?

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy.

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her.

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours.

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie.

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close.

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else.

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse.

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion.

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…”

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well.

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you.

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears.

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #seo dahyun smut #seo dahyun #triples dahyun #kep1er smut #seo youngeun smut #seo youngeun #kep1er youngeun #fic box

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marzipanandminutiae · 28 days ago

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"it was my mother's. it was my grandmother's"

"I don't want it thrown away."

"I've asked around, you know, but none of my kids or grandkids-"

"they just don't sew, and dolls creep them out, so-"

treasure comes in a paper shopping-bag, one of the big ones, brimming with lace wrapped around old notecards. a hand-embroidered linen tablecloth of thorny rose vines. a Tupperware container, rubber-banded together around a tissue-paper wad with an Art Nouveau belt buckle at its heart. yards of beaded silk fringe. long cotton stockings. petticoats like the froth on a cresting wave

things saved and put by for when the fashions changed and clothing had to be remade- until that stopped, and clothing came only from a rack and went only to the dump, and the stockpile lost its purpose

Post-Its stuck on this and that: "1910." "was my great-aunt Martha's." "this is real lapis, I think." little bits of provenance like whispers on the wind, things nobody thought to write down until they were only half-remembered

the women always look so grateful, as if I'm giving them something rather than claiming an inheritance before they've even died. I, a stranger- yet, I suppose, kin at heart, because we both look at this bounty and see more than old junk (or, at most, dollar signs in an Etsy store)

family who found each other on Facebook or at a museum event or in the middle of a street festival

fairytale logic applies: you can't go looking for these kinds of gifts. you can't ask for them outright. you find them by showing genuine passion and enthusiasm for antiques, sewing, dolls, whatever, when there's not an expectation that you'll get something rare and valuable out of it

it's not a king's ransom. it's not a happily-ever-after. it cannot fix the broken world we're both living in

but it's beauty and love. and two people- one nearing the end of a story, one closer to the beginning- saying, goddamnit, this little bit of light is worth passing along

#antiques #musings #sometimes old women give me their family antiques- especially trims and textiles and dolls -and I have Feelings about that

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italiangirlcoresblog · 1 month ago

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main masterlist \\ 12 3 days of christmas

-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐱

✩ : just a (not so) chill post-christmas competition with your boyfriend

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : oscar piastri

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, mature

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k

✍︎ : couldn’t stop thinking about that one mclaren video so i just wrote it down.

last one-shot of the christmas series! i'm sorry it was so short but i've been super busy with my family and relatives, so this is all i could give you guys (for the same reason, i don't have anything ready for new year's either...)

anyways, i hope you enjoyed it and had an amazing time with your loved ones too 🩷

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the torn wrapping paper scattered across the living room, untouched since you left it there the day before, warming the room as you passed by. When you walked into the kitchen, lazily stretching your arms over your head with a loud yawn, you were welcomed with a rather unique sight.

Oscar, hair ruffled and still in his pajamas, was quietly humming to a Christmas song coming from Alexa, so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t even look up when you made your entrance. You bit back the smirk tugging at your lips: he was far too cute like that, all festive and productive, to take it personally.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still rough and low as he flashed you a sleepy grin; so he had seen you.

“Morning,” you replied, reaching out to peck him gently on the cheek, the way his arm immediately sneaked around your waist making you smile against his skin.

“So,” you pulled back and turned towards the counter behind you, “what’s all this?”

To be fair, now that you looked at them, the chaotic selection of candies, including gummy bears, M&Ms and marshmallows, and the two icing bags lying beside them spoke for themselves, making the answer pretty obvious.

Therefore, you weren’t really surprised when Oscar answered: “We’re making gingerbread houses.”

“And you decided to do this now of all times because…?”

“It’s my revenge for how you played yesterday,” he stated, hands firmly placed on his hips as he eyed you with a knowing glance, though he looked like he was trying his best not to laugh.

You clutched at your chest, mouth hung open in an outraged and mockingly shocked expression. “Excuse me, you mean how I clearly destroyed you at Monopoly?” Your tone was now teasing as an amused smirk played on your lips.

“No, I mean how you destroyed the board when you yeeted it across the room halfway through.”

“It was a strategic retreat,” you waved a hand in the air, absently shrugging off his accusation before grabbing one of the decorating bags and pointing it at his chest. “Ready to lose again?”

“First of all, let’s put this down,” he said while guiding your hands down on the kitchen island with his own. “The icing should go on the houses, not us.”

“Wow, zero faith in me,” you shot back, your unimpressed tone dripping with sarcasm as if being babied by Oscar didn’t affect you in the least — although it, in fact, affected you a lot. “Besides, I know how these things work. How hard can it be?”

“Famous last words,” he sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin as he finally let go of you.

“Alright,” you ignored him, bubbling over with the same excitement of a child on Christmas morning. “Rules are simple: best gingerbread house wins. No cheating, no crying when you lose.”

“Why are you the one making the rules? I’m pretty sure this was my idea.” He quirked a brow, the playful glint in his eyes matching the now full-blown smile on his face.

“Gingerbread house competition rules are universally known,” you stated matter-of-factly. “So, should I get tissues for you now or later?”

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a warning look before shaking his head, laughing at himself in disbelief as he, too, prepared for your little battle.

It took exactly ten minutes for things to start going sideways.

“Oscar!” Your voice echoed through the room once again, a laugh unwillingly breaking through the annoyance in it. “Stop eating all my decorations!” you scolded him, every word a slap on his arm.

“I’m quality testing,” he explained, mouth full of your candies as he popped yet another one in it.

“You’re sabotaging.” You snatched the package from his hands, sticking out your tongue at his disappointed face.

“Uncalled for,” he muttered under his breath, to which you quickly responded with a sharp ‘Deserved,’ before you both focused back on your work, the kitchen falling into a comfortable silence.

Until.

“Stop staring at me,” you said, not looking up from the counter after you felt his gaze linger on you for the hundredth time.

“I’m not staring.” The amusement in his tone immediately gave him away.

“You so are,” you chuckled, stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye. “What?” you then asked, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink when you found him already looking at you, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

He nodded toward your house. “Your wall’s sliding.”

“Mother–” You cursed between your teeth, scrambling to fix it, your fingers sticky with icing as you pressed it back into place.

That’s when you felt it — him.

“What are you doing?” you basically hissed, tensing up as he stepped right behind you, his arms sliding onto the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He just stood still for a moment, his chest warm against your back and his breath hot on your neck as he hovered over you, every nerve in your body suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

“Helping.” His tone was casual, innocent even, but the way it immediately dropped as he took your smaller hands in his made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I don’t need help,” you replied sharply — and yet you didn’t pull away, your skin tingling under his touch.

“Mhm,” he hummed in your ear, mock obvious in his voice.

You tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at that simple sound, keeping your eyes stubbornly fixed on the gingerbread house in front of you as you mumbled a weak ‘I’ve got it’ you didn’t even believe yourself.

“Sure you do.” Oscar didn’t miss a beat, his mouth ghosting over your cheek as he spoke, the last bits of self-control you had left finally leaving your body.

Since you didn’t have any smart remark to make this time — not a single thought was actually going through your head — he just kept going, only worsening your already desperate situation.

“You’ve got a little…” His whisper trailed off as he brought a hand up to your flushed face, gently taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head toward him, his thumb moving to brush away a dribble of icing that had ended up on the corner of your mouth.

“Oscar–”

“Hold still,” he murmured, “I missed a spot.”

Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned in, his lips burning on your skin as he darted his tongue out and swiped it over the dirty spot in a lingering kitty lick. But it was when he traced the line of your bottom lip with it that you gave in, an unintentional sigh escaping your mouth as you faced him completely.

Your hands moved in sync, yours sliding under his shirt and trailing to his back, nails scratching their way up, while his left your jaw to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter, sending half of the items on it tumbling to the floor. Needless to say, neither of you cared about the mess.

His fingers moved down to your thighs, digging into the plush skin there and forcing them apart so that he could sneak between your knees, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him flush against you, the sudden contact making your back arch as he grunted softly.

Oscar’s mouth left yours for a moment, only to start attacking your neck right after, your head tilting back to give him a better access as he nipped at the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

A mischievous smile stretched on his lips as he licked clean a sprinkle of powdered sugar you hadn’t even noticed, mumbling ‘Sweet’ at the taste of it.

“Was this your plan all along?” You let out a breathless laugh in between your gasps, skin on fire under his every little touch.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. His kisses did all the talking.

-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

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twiishaa · 2 months ago

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twisha’s merry christmas event! secret santa with fushiguro megumi

megumi x fem!reader, fluff! yuji and nobara organised a secret santa for all the 1st years in jujutsu high (literally just the four of you). somehow, megumi got you, his not-so-secret cursh (it was definitely rigged... somehow....).

“all right!” yuji’s voice echoed through the room. “you guys have to pick a name from my santa hat!”

to get into the festive mood, you, megumi, nobara and yuji (read: nobara and yuji) decided to do a secret santa. the four of you were close, you guys had been on many dangerous missions together which forced you to get closer but now that it was nearing christmas, there were fewer negative emotions, and so less breeding ground for curses, meaning there were also less chances for you guys to meet up.

therefore, the most logical solution: a secret santa!

nobara went first to pick out a name, followed by yuji, then you, and lastly megumi. when megumi picked out his name, he blushed a little, then crumpled up the small sheet of paper. he was cooked.

oh, it was obvious who he got.

see, the way you were recruited was a bit… strange. you had originally been approached by nobara, megumi and yuji because megumi thought you were cute, so to tease him, the other two started a conversation. shortly after, they sensed a curse behind you, but before they could do anything, you had taken it out professionally and calmly—despite it being a 2nd grade cursed spirit, at least. ever since then, megumi had grown a certain… fondness towards you. and soon that fondness turned into a crush.

—

there was about one week until the secret santa gift exchange.

embarrassed, megumi tried to strike up a conversation with maki, and subtly ask about what to get you.

“hey megumi, what’s up? you usually never come to me for anything,” she said, preoccupied with her sparirng with panda.

“oh, you know, just…” megumi tried to play it off like it was nothing. “do you have any gift recommendations? for.. a girl?”

maki stopped for a second and looked at him.

“oh? is this for your secret santa? who’d you get?” she was more interested now, stopping completely.

sighing, megumi quietly accepted his fate and the teasing to come.

“…[name].”

maki did a fake squeal, causing megumi’s cheeks to turn bright red from embarrassment.

“ooh, isn’t that,” maki looked around outrageously before coming in to whisper in megumi’s ear, “your crush?”

“yes, she is, now just tell me what to get her!” megumi shouted a little, irritated.

maki backed off, starting to spar with panda again.

“[name], huh? get her a perfume that reminds you of her or something. girls love sappy stuff like that.”

and with that, megumi walked off and made his way to the mall, beelining to the perfume shop.

—

a few minutes hours later, megumi exited the shop, bag in hand. suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder; it was you. he jumped a little in shock, making you giggle and megumi’s face turn red, again.

“megumi? what are you doing here?” you asked, as he had just walked out of the perfume shop, primarily for girls.

megumi chuckled nervously. “oh, you know… christmas gifts for the family, and stuff…” he trailed off at the end.

“oh, I see!” megumi sighed a breath of relief.

“by the way, is secret santa next week?” you asked.

“uh- yeah. next week.” he replied, turning a little to face you.

you gave him a quick smile and waved, “ill see you tomorrow then, megumi!”

crisis averted?

—

the day for your secret santa arrived. you had all agreed to reveal who got who because yuji got too excited and told you his by accident. the four of you sat in a circle, the gifts in the middle.

after yuji’s turn, it was yours. picking up the bag that said your name on it. the bag looked a bit familiar… ignoring it, you opened the tissue paper wrapping. inside was a beautiful, floral perfume— it suited you perfectly.

then all the dots connected in your head. the bag, the perfume—

“oh my god, is this what you bought the other day megumi?! when I saw you in the mall?” you asked, a tone of excitement showing. megumi nodded.

“megumi, you liar! you told me it was like, your sister’s or something!” you said, laughing.

megumi laughed a little as well. “I mean, I couldn’t just say it was yours, I’m not like itadori.”

“hey!” yuji elbowed megumi in the side, causing you to laugh harder.

megumi liked the sound of your laughter. it made his heart warm.

—

a little after you guys all exchanged gifts, megumi pulled you aside while nobara and yuji were preparing some drinks.

“hey, I was wondering…” megumi began. taking a deep breath, he carried on with what he was saying.

“would you.. can I take you out on a date? like, after christmas or something?”

you stood there for a second, just processing what he said to you.

quickly, megumi added, “you don’t have to say yes! or anything.. actually, forget that I asked-” you cut him off.

“no! I would love to! megumi, have you only now noticed my very obvious crush on you? please can we go out… on a date…” megumi sighed another breath of relief.

on the other side of the room were yuji and nobara, ‘preparing the drinks’ (watching you two).

“this is our christmas reward,” nobara said, sipping at her hot chocolate; yuji nodded.

it definitely wasn’t like they rigged the names, or anything…

taglist @d0milol @hearts4hansol @kcch-ns

⋆⁺₊❅ and lastly, here's a link to the taglists! merry christmas~‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

#twisha’s merry christmas event!#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi jjk #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jjk x reader

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spiderman2-99 · 3 months ago

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Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration. When the dead return home, the day is filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

They’ve been extinct since 2095, actually. How hadn’t he known? That should've been something he'd figured out sooner, right? But no, he finds out a week before the day itself while he’s trying to make Gabriella’s ofrenda.

What does his beloved baby girl, who he would’ve given the world a thousand times over, get instead? Paper flowers.

Paper flowers instead of real ones, possessions that represented her instead of properly being hers, a half-done altar that was done in a manic, grief-fueled haze.

It’s paltry. Miguel knows it is. But it’s all he can give, and by God, he hates it. He tried to make it up in home-made pan de muerto and fresh fruit and her favorite dinners, in the carefully arranged papel picado garlands, in finding actual copal to burn… but it’s not enough. It could never be enough.

It’s been a long time since he’d last made an ofrenda, actually. He fell out of the tradition sometime when he was in college, when he was young and unburdened and selfish and so, so stupid, and had convinced himself he had much more important things to do with his time than honor traditions.

Sometimes, he wants to reach out to that little twerp and beat him senseless.

No, he wants to laugh, or scream, or pull his hair out. It’s a sick joke; a cruel jab at his expense, that he only started giving a shit about his own cultural holidays again after Gabi died, when he could no longer share the homemade food with her, help her learn about the significance.

It feels so wrong, being unable to share this with his daughter. Having the altar be dedicated to her, instead of her helping him set it up; teaching her how to make the banners and arrange flowers and bake bread, entertaining whatever thousands of questions she’d have about the holiday and her great-great-whoever’s they’d be celebrating. What would she have thought of the chicken and chile rellenos? Of the Calaveritas? The toys he left out?

Hijo de puta. A parent isn’t supposed to outlive their child.

It’s a pathetic altar too, as far as he’s concerned. Miguel hadn't done this in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how to; having to go on the internet just to remember the guidelines. Even then, there were so many conflicting answers that it left him confused and flying blind the whole damn time.

Did he do enough as a father to honor her? Did the ofrenda do her memory justice? Did he do anything right? Is there enough salt to purify her body? Enough water and food to provide for her long journey? Was the copal actually supposed to be incense, or did it have a different meaning? Are the purple candles placed correctly? Would tissue paper marigolds, devoid of scent and life, be enough guide her safely back home?

These worries swarm like vultures to a carcass, picking at and tormenting him to the point where he can barely stand to look at the stupid, thrown-together thing any longer. He should know how to do this— today is much more than just a holiday; Día de Muerto and all of its rich traditions should be a part of who he is, steeped in his identity, his culture. It should be more familiar than breathing.

But now it just makes him ache, seeing how he couldn’t even properly commemorate his own little girl.

In a brief moment of clarity, Miguel realizes he really just should’ve just taken more time to research and plan it out better. If only it weren’t for the constant high-stakes responsibilities, the needs of far too many all on his shoulders, the people, people, people.

Not like he didn’t try; Halloween and all day yesterday, Miguel had been rushing uncharacteristically through work, trying to get caught up enough to take time off. But of course, God had it out for him and practically half the damn Society wanted to barge into his office to badger him about something. He ended up with a shock-ton of random gifts and baked goods on his desk that he’d unceremoniously pawned off to Peter B. (save for a bottle of Don Julio, but the other man didn’t need to know that), enough sanguine well-wishes to last him a lifetime, and high blood pressure.

And the time and effort he scraped up still wasn’t enough to get it done right. It could never be good enough. He could never be good enough.

Miguel can’t stop second-guessing himself, can’t stop that all too familiar spiral of guilt and self-loathing that rots away at his insides like necrosis. He’s a scientist and an engineer, for shocksake— logic and reason should override his emotions, should stop them from clouding him at all. But all he can do is sit there, staring at the sorry excuse for an ofrenda with a lump in his throat and a throbbing headache that won’t go away.

Today couldn’t have gone any worse.

His joints pop viciously as he gets up from the floor just to prove him wrong. Cristo en el cielo.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that… well, no one is here. No one to see his embarrassment, or his failure; no one to question him, or ask him how he’s feeling, or try to give a hug, or any more goddamn food. It’s just him and his ever-spiraling thoughts and the grief that threatens to consume him whole.

Carefully, with a trembling hand, he lights the incense, then the candles, the golden glow dancing around his otherwise dark apartment. It… almost makes it look better. Less like a broken down man’s sorry attempt at repentance and more like a proper ofrenda.

Almost.

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration, filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

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onlyhereforthestories · 2 months ago

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Most Wonderful Time Of The Year (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Day 4! Anyone else think that decorating the tree is one of the best parts of the festive holiday?

As the holiday season approached Leah got more and more excited. You knew she loved the holiday but being as last year you had only been officially dating for about 3 months, she had dampened it down a little as to not overwhelm you. This year though you could tell she was fully comfortable sharing her excitement with you, something you were more than happy with.

Leah had insisted that this Christmas, you’d be decorating the tree together in her apartment. Last year you had left her house one evening and came back the next night to find her house transformed into a winter wonderland of sorts. This year however, she was going to make sure you were a part of her plans, being as you were a lot more involved with each other.

You could tell she’d been looking forward to it all week, she’d already picked up the perfect tree which has spent the last day dropping out. She had also spent an afternoon at the garden centre, bringing home boxes filled with ornaments, lights, and ribbons stating that as this was your first joint tree it had to be new things that you both would like.

Tonight, she’d even set up a holiday playlist so that while you decorated, the living room would be filled with soft, nostalgic carols. She pulled out a big box filled with ornaments, each one carefully wrapped in tissue paper. “I went a bit overboard,” she admitted, laughing as she took out a few of the shiny baubles. “I just couldn’t pick!”

“You went all out, huh?” you teased, grinning as she unwrapped a glittery red ornament and held it up for inspection. She rolled her eyes at you, a playful smile tugging at her lips, and handed you a few decorations to start with.

“Christmas isn’t for half assing a job, not that I ever do that anyway love. But this is like the best holiday of the year, you have to do it proper.” You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face at the excitement coming from the Lioness captain. Only offering her a slight hmmm of semi agreement, before you took the box of ornaments off of her.

As you both worked, Leah passed you ribbons, tinsel and ornaments, her eyes lighting up whenever you hung one up. Some of the decorations were traditional, tiny wooden reindeer, little stars, and glass bulbuls in classic red and gold. But Leah had also picked out a few quirky ones: a mini soccer ball, a tiny camera, and a little book with “Our Adventures” scribbled across it. You couldn’t help but laugh as she explained each one, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she shared the stories behind each choice.

“We obviously have to have a football one, its literally the only reason we are here now…”

“If I had a pound for every photo you took of me or a pretty view then id be richer than a men’s player…” You did mention her and a pretty view are one and the same which got your favourite pink cheeks and scoff reaction from her.

“This feels like the beginning of our adventures, and I saw that one and thought is was a fitting first Christmas together properly ornament. Much better than the cheesy actual ones act least.”

After a while, you noticed a small, lumpy bundle at the bottom of the box. Unwrapping it, you found an old, handmade ornament. It was a little star painted in Leah’s favourite colours and was a bit worn around the edges. “What’s this one?” you asked, holding it up.

Leah looked at it and smiled, a little sheepish. “I made it when I was a kid. It’s terrible, isn’t it?” She laughed, looking a bit embarrassed, but you could see the fondness in her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you replied, giving her a warm smile as you carefully hung it in a prime spot near the top of the tree where everyone could see it with just a glance. She watched, her face softening as she took your hand and squeezed it gently.

After an hour or so, the tree was nearly complete, draped in lights and covered in the mix of classic and quirky ornaments Leah had chosen. You both stood back, admiring your work as she reached over to switch on the lights. “This is always the best part, the first light up. It’s just magic.” The tree glowed softly, casting the room in a warm, magical light. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

Leah wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at the finished tree. “It’s perfect,” she murmured, her voice warm in your ear. You leaned back into her, feeling her arms tighten around you in a quiet, contented hug.

She glanced over at the last item on the table, a silver star meant for the top of the tree. With a grin, she picked it up and handed it to you. “You want to do the honours?”

You nodded, feeling a spark of excitement as she lifted you up slightly, helping you reach the top of the tree. Carefully, you placed the star on the branch that stuck out at the top, and she set you back down, pulling you close once again as you both admired the final touch.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispered, kissing your forehead softly. Her hand stayed at the small of your back, grounding you as you both took in the soft glow of the room.

After a moment, Leah grabbed a couple of candy canes from a nearby bowl, handing one to you before popping the other into her mouth, grinning as she let it dangle between her lips. She looked at you with that cheeky spark in her eye. “Come on, I can’t be the only one getting into the Christmas spirit,” she said, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, taking a bite of your candy cane and settling down beside her on the couch. She pulled a blanket over both of you, leaning against you as she pressed play on a classic Christmas movie that she’d queued up earlier. Together, you snuggled up, munching on candy canes, watching the lights twinkle on the tree, and laughing at the silly holiday scenes unfolding on the screen.

As the night came to and end, you tried to unwrap yourself from the cozy blanket covered position you and Leah had gotten into. The blonde didn’t let you; she tightened her hold on your waist and whispered into the calm night, “Thanks for making this the best Christmas.”

You smiled, reaching to take her hand that had settled on your stomach. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

With her hand in yours and the lights from the tree casting gentle shadows across the room, you felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be. It wasn’t just about the tree or the decorations, it was about being with Leah, sharing those little moments that you hoped would happen for years to come, and feeling perfectly at home in each other’s arms as the night settled around you.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #lea

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peachiejeongin · 2 months ago

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Crimson Christmas | Bang Chan

Day 8 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: It is time for the annual Stray Kids (plus one) gift exchange, and Bang Chan has an interesting gift up his sleeve for you.

Pairing: bf!Bang Chan x fem!gf!reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Suggestive

Warnings: Lingerie, allusions to sexual intercourse

Notice: Hello, darlings! Welcome to the eighth day of Staymas! This is the one and only truly "suggestive" fiction for this series, so....Merry Christmas, lol! Enjoy the reading, and check out the other stories if you would like to :)

The dorm was alive with festive energy, every corner glowing from the soft, golden twinkle of the Christmas lights. The scent of cinnamon candles mingled with the aroma of Christmas dinner. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the couches, a few draped haphazardly on the floor, where some of the Stray Kids members were already sprawled out.

You balanced a tray of steaming mugs, each topped with a creative swirl of whipped cream and crushed candy canes, carefully dodging an excited Han who was attempting to wrestle a pillow away from Seungmin.

"Felix, if we watch 'Home Alone' one more time, I'm going to scream," Seungmin grumbled grumpily, his tone as flat as ever. He narrowly avoided the pillow that Felix launched in retaliation.

"Leave him alone!" Hyunjin drawled from his self-designated throne of throw pillows near the fire place, his hair catching the flicker of the flames like a halo. "Let him live his festive truth!"

"Forget his festive truth," Minho reorted, reaching for a marshmallow from the tray you were precariously holding. "Let us live without the same movie on repeat each holiday season."

"Minho!" you scolded, twisting your body to save the tray from certain disaster. "If you don't let me put this down, you're all getting instant coffee instead of hot chocolate next year."

"Babe, you're doing amazing. Don't let them get to you." Chan, perched on the arm of the couch, chuckled softly at your exasperation.

Finally, you placed the tray on the coffee table, passing out the mugs one by one to a chorus of, "Thank you, y/n!" and exaggerated sighs of relief. Chan tugged you down beside him as soon as your hands were free, his arm slipping around your shoulders.

"You spoil them too much," he murmured, his lips barely brushing against your temple.

"That's what Christmas is for," you replied with a grin, gesturing towards the chaos as Felix launched into another impassioned defense of 'Home Alone.'

As the boys finally agreed on 'Elf', albeit, after much negotiation and a few suspicious rock-paper-scissors matches, you reached behind the couch and pulled out a stack of boxes. Each one was wrapped in crisp red paper with little silver ribbons tied in bows.

"Alright, children," you announced, setting the boxes down on the coffee table. "It's time for presents!"

They scrambled over the gifts like actual children, eagerly grabbing their boxes and tearing into them. Each box contained a matching pajama set, fluffy socks, and a small treat you had picked for each of them, such as a minature fox plush for Jeongin, a new sweets recipe notebook for Felix, and a scented candle for Changbin.

"Y/n, you're the best," Han declared, already pulling his socks on.

"This is so soft," Hyunjin announced, grinning as he held up his pajama top.

You basked in their delight, feeling the warm glow of satisfaction that came from making the people you love happy.

"Well, my love," Chan suddenly began. "We can't you go without a gift, now can we?" Chan reached behind the couch, pulling out his own gift box; this one was a chartreuse color, wrapped in a golden bow. Your name was scrawled on the tag in Chan's familiar handwriting.

"Let's see what the man of the house picked out for me," you teased, lifting the lid.

Inside was a pair of cozy flannel pajamas in a soft cream and emerald green pattern, folded neatly on top of a small bundle of tissue paper. You smiled, lifting the fabric to admire it, only to freeze as the tissue paper shifted, revealing something entirely unexpected.

Your breath caught as your fingers brushed against delicate lace, deep crimson and impossibly intricate. The lingerie set nestled beneath the pajamas was impossibly intimate, and your cheeks flamed the same color as realization hit.

You shot a wide-eyed glance at Chan, who was already watching you with a mischevious twinkle in his eyes. His lips quirked into a barely suppressed grin.

Before you could react, Seungmin, ever the curious one, leaned over to peek into the box.

"Wait, what is that-"

"Chan!" you exclaimed, slamming the lid shut with a sharp thud. "Not in front of the children!"

The room erupted into chaos. Han choked on a marshmallow, his laughter turning into wheezes as he rolled onto the floor. Changbin and Felix clutched their stomachs, their faces bright pink from laughing so hard.

"Chan!" Minho screeched, clutching his chest in mock scandal. "On Christmas Eve?! Really?!"

Hyunjin, the ever dramatic one, flopped onto the carpet with a hand over his heart.

"This is better than the movie," he declared, wiping a fake tear from his cheek.

Chan leaned closer to you, his face flushed but his grin shameless.

"What? It's festive."

"Festive is not the word I'd use," you muttered, glaring at him, though your lips betrayed you with a twitch of amusement.

The boys continued their exaggerated uproar, shouting over each other with increasingly dramatic reactions. Changbin gasped about being scarred while Jeongin muttered something about needing therapy.

Chan, unfazed by the chaos, pulled you closer, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispered, "Merry Christmas, baby."

You could not help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned into his warmth.

"You're unbelievable," you uttered quietly, a soft smile on your lips contrasting your stark words.

"Maybe I could make it up to you?" he questioned, his voice shushed to where only you could hear him. "I could always give you another present."

"Oh yeah?" you challenged. "Like what?"

"Well, I'd have to show you, but I will say you'll have to wear the present I got you in order to get it." Chan's eyes darkened slightly, yet the cheeky grin on his face was ever-present. You stared into his gaze, your face flushed but your lips twisted into a daring smirk.

"Deal," you agreed, eliciting an eyebrow raise and soft giggle from Chan as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

Despite the teasing, the laughter, and the absolute mayhem, you could not imagine a more perfect Christmas Eve.