#I feel like I’m forgetting something though

[hsnlv]

caught! | y.jw

pairing: boyfriend!jungwon x reader

teaser: “so, angel,” jungwon said, his voice dangerously soft, “if i’m your first boyfriend… how do you know how to shave a guy?”

others: jungwon is visibly manly in this one and im soooo in love w manly jungwon!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: have you guys ever seen tha clip from one of jungwon’s live where you can see his upper lips facial hair that started to grow?? BEAUTIFUL😵‍💫 this is defo inspired by that live keke

“baby, can you help me shave?” jungwon asked, handing you his razor with an expectant look. you couldn’t help but notice the faint shadow of his moustache, barely visible but still pricking his soft skin. knowing jungwon, he probably hated the sight of it—he always shaved at the first sign of facial hair.

you took the razor from him, smiling giddily. “of course, uwon!” hopping onto the bathroom sink, you faced him, legs dangling on either side of his waist. moments like this made your heart flutter—being so close to him, feeling his warmth, catching the faint scent of his cologne that you’d recognize anywhere.

“don’t forget the shaving cream,” he murmured, his tone slightly teasing.

“uwon, let me handle this,” you said confidently, reaching for the cream. he just arched a brow but stayed silent, his lips pressing into a playful pout as you carefully lathered his face. your fingers worked gently, spreading the cream over his soft skin, humming to yourself as you did.

you guys are this close whenever you do his skincare or face masks. and normally, jungwon would hum along with you or tease you for singing off-key, but today, he was strangely quiet. you glanced up, your brows furrowing. “what’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head.

he wiped the cream from his lips with a tissue, setting it aside before his hand settled on your thigh, squeezing gently. the warmth of his palm sent little sparks through you, but his expression… something about it made your stomach twist.

“angel baby,” he said, his voice soft yet firm, a tone he rarely used. the way he said your favorite nickname made your heart skip, though there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe? you hummed in response, but your pulse quickened.

“you told me i was your first boyfriend, didn’t you?” he tilted his head slightly, studying you. his voice wasn’t accusing, but the question hung heavy in the air.

your heart dropped to your stomach. “uh, yeah…?” you answered hesitantly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

jungwon’s brow arched higher. “then how do you know how to shave a guy?”

your mind went blank. oh no. oh no, no, no.

okay, to be fair, it’s not like you wanted to lie to him like that. but you clearly remember during your talking stage with him, he had said that he preferred a girl who was never in a relationship before, with the reason that he could show her how love is actually like.

“uh, well, i mean… i helped my brother before,” you stammered, trying to sound convincing.

jungwon’s lips quirked up ever so slightly, his fingers drumming gently against your thigh. “you don’t have a brother.”

“uh, my dad?” you tried again, forcing a sheepish smile.

“your dad doesn’t even have facial hair,” he countered, leaning in slightly, his tone dangerously soft. “and, if i recall, he’s bald.”

“im pretty sure it’s not much of a different if i shave myself…?” okay that was nasty but whatever it is to make sure he didn’t catch your lie.

“pretty sure?” his voice was too confident, it made your walls of lies crumbled down right upon him. your pout deepened at his chuckle.

“baby, just tell me the truth.” his hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“did you have a boyfriend before me?” his voice was gentler now, but the seriousness in his eyes made your heart race.

you sighed, your shoulders slumping as you nodded. “…yeah.”

jungwon stared at you for a moment, his face completely unreadable. you braced yourself for his reaction, but instead of scolding or looking upset, he laughed. soft at first, then louder, until he was clutching his stomach, his head tilting back.

“baby,” he said between laughs, wiping the corner of his eye. “you thought i’d actually care about that? seriously?”

you blinked at him, cheeks burning. “but you said—”

“i said i prefer someone who hasn’t dated before, not that i need it or care about it,” he cut you off, grinning at you. “you’re so dramatic. it’s adorable.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “i just wanted to be perfect for you.”

jungwon’s grin softened, his hand cupping your cheek. “you’re already perfect, angel. even when you’re lying terribly.”

“it wasn’t that bad!” you protested, half-heartedly swatting at his chest.

“it was awful,” he teased, pulling you closer by your waist. “your bald dad? your imaginary brother? i almost wanted to let you keep digging just to see what else you’d come up with.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “stop making fun of me!”

“never,” he said smugly, tugging your hands away to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “but seriously, baby, don’t lie to me about stuff like that. i hate liars. and, i don’t care who you dated before me. i just care that you’re with me now.”

his words melted away the embarrassment, leaving nothing but warmth. “i was just scared,” you admitted softly, your gaze dropping to your hands. “you told me you wanted someone who hadn’t been in love before. i was so in love with you, uwon, and i wanted to be everything you dreamed of.”

jungwon’s expression softened even more as he rested his forehead against yours. “you are, baby. even if you’ve been in love before, it doesn’t change the fact that i’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you now.”

you smiled shyly, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweater. “you’re not mad?”

“mad? no. jealous? absolutely. very much,” he said, fixing you with a dramatic, intense gaze.

“you’ve shaved someone else before me? wow, i feel so betrayed,” he added, raising his hands in mock surrender, his tone exaggerated just enough to make you panic.

“uwon, baby! i’m sorry!” you whined, your voice filled with guilt.

his giggle broke through the tension, and you glared at him with a pout. he leaned forward, booping your nose lightly. “i’m kidding, baby,” he said with a grin.

“you’re the worst,” you muttered under your breath.

“and you’re the best,” he shot back smoothly, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against yours. “now, can we finish this? or are you going to tell me you’ve shaved some random celebrity next?”

“you’re so annoying,” you huffed, grabbing the razor again.

“and you love me,” he teased, his grin so wide it made your heart flutter.

as much as you wanted to argue, you couldn’t deny it.

[little-jana]

"The Weight of His Words"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: steamy, fluff, 18+

Warnings: kissing, steamy kissing, hotch calling reader a good girl

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Hotch giving reader some compliments and one gets her all flustered...

Being in the BAU taught you to thrive under pressure, but nothing compared to the pressure of working under Aaron Hotchner. His commanding presence, razor-sharp focus, and quiet authority were enough to make anyone falter—especially you. He wasn’t intimidating in the typical way, but in how effortlessly he commanded respect and attention. Every time his dark eyes locked on you, steady and unyielding, it felt like your entire body was under his scrutiny.

And maybe that was the problem. You’d spent too much time noticing the man behind the badge: the soft-spoken leader who was fiercely protective of his team, the rare smiles that lit up his face when he thought no one was watching, the low, rumbling voice that made your stomach twist whenever he said your name.

Unfortunately, your growing attraction to your boss wasn’t something you could afford to entertain. So, you buried it—deep enough to function professionally, but never quite deep enough to forget.

But today was testing every ounce of self-control you had.

---

The team had just wrapped up a grueling case involving an elusive kidnapper. Everyone was running on fumes, but you’d been the one to track down the critical lead that led to the unsub’s capture. As the team regrouped at the precinct to finalize reports, you could feel Hotch’s gaze on you.

“Good work today,” he’d said earlier, his voice low but warm. That alone had been enough to make your cheeks flush.

Now, as you typed up the last details of your report, you caught him watching you again. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something in his eyes—something that made your stomach flip.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice cutting through the din of the precinct.

You looked up, heart skipping a beat. “Yes, sir?”

“Can I see you for a moment?”

Your pulse quickened, but you nodded, standing and following him into one of the side offices. He closed the door behind you, the quiet click of the lock making the small room feel suddenly smaller.

“Everything okay?” you asked, trying to sound calm.

“Yes,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I just wanted to talk to you about your work today.”

Your heart sank. “Did I miss something?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Not at all. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“Oh.” Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by confusion.

“You were exceptional today,” he said, stepping closer. “That lead you followed—it was exactly what we needed. I wanted to make sure you knew how much it contributed to the case.”

His praise hit you like a tidal wave, and you tried to school your expression, but it was no use. You felt your cheeks warm, your breath hitching as he took another step closer.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

The words sent a jolt through you, and your entire body went still.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“N-no,” you stammered, though your cheeks were burning.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” you lied, even though the heat in your face betrayed you.

“You are,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The sight of him almost smiling—especially at your expense—made your heart race. You looked away, desperate to escape his gaze.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice softer now.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you blurted out, though it came out more like a squeak.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “No?”

“No,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“Good,” he said simply, and that damn phrase sent another wave of heat rushing through you.

You tried to focus, tried to keep your breathing steady, but the intensity in his gaze was unraveling you.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, taking another step closer. “The way you think, the way you work—you’re one of the best. And I’m not just saying that.”

“Hotch, I—”

“You’re remarkable,” he interrupted, his voice firm but warm. “I hope you know that.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the walls around you closing in—not from fear, but from the sheer force of his presence.

“I—thank you,” you managed, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

He studied you for a long moment, and you could feel your resolve crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

“You’re doubting yourself again,” he said, his voice dropping lower.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he said gently. “But you don’t need to. You’re a good girl, Y/N.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your knees go weak. You gripped the edge of the desk behind you, trying to steady yourself as your mind raced.

“I—” You couldn’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a denial.

His lips quirked into a faint smile, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. “Did I catch you off guard?”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You just—” You shook your head, your cheeks still burning.

“Just what?” he asked, his tone teasing now.

“You can’t say things like that,” you blurted out.

“Why not?” he asked, his voice calm but curious.

“Because—” You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words. “Because it’s… distracting.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken even more.

“Distracting?” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement.

“Yes,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Hmm,” he hummed, stepping even closer.

You sucked in a breath, your heart pounding as he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re remarkable,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I mean that.”

You felt your resolve snap. “Hotch, I—”

“Call me Aaron,” he interrupted, his voice low and commanding.

The sound of his name on his lips sent a thrill through you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you surged forward, closing the distance between you.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and the floodgates opened.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your head spin, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped you. One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

You clung to him, your fingers gripping the front of his suit jacket as the world around you faded away.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing hard, and his forehead rested against yours.

“That was…” You trailed off, your mind still reeling.

“Amazing,” he finished, his voice rough but steady.

You smiled, your cheeks still flushed. “Yeah. Amazing.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

You groaned, burying your face in his chest as he laughed quietly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[froggiewrites]

Sickly Sweet

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've got a horrible cold, and Sanji is determined to take care of you. He may be going a bit overboard. Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Illness Word Count: 1.1k Notes: I'm sick as a dog right now, so I wrote a little something to comfort myself. Not proofread or edited, just words on the page. Hope everyone's having a good Christmas Eve (or Christmas, if it's already day of for you), and I hope none of you are sick like I am!

The doting had been so nice at the start. Your head was pounding, you could barely breathe through your nose, and your throat was so sore you felt like you had swallowed glass. So when your dear sweet Sanji had insisted on taking care of you, you had absolutely no problem with it.

Until now.

“Darling, angel, light of my life, please, just one more sip.” He was holding the cup of soup directly in front of your face, begging you to open your mouth. This was sweet the first time, but now you were halfway through your fourth cup of broth and you felt like you were going to explode.

You manage to mumble through pursed lips, “Sanji, I’m full.”

“Just one more, love, please.”

“Sanji, if I drink any more, I’ll throw up.”

“You won’t throw up, dear.”

“I definitely will. I’m about 80% soup right now. Maybe even 90.”

A slight wrinkle settles on his brow as he pouts. “Darling, you need fluids. It’ll help you recover.”

“I understand that. But there’s only so much room in my body, and we’re full up right now.” Your voice is getting croakier with every word you speak, and you can see Sanji’s eyes filling with even more concern. “Sweetheart, I’ll have more later, I promise. Please just…let me digest for a little bit.”

For a moment you simply stare into each other’s eyes, and you try to emphasize your pout and watery eyes. He folds like a house of cards. “Alright, dear.”

His hands are gentle as he cradles your face, his eyes adoring. You let your eyes close, basking in the love he has for you, before you feel him pull you closer.

You just barely get your hands between your lips, his brushing lightly against your palm.

“Mmm?” He mumbles against your hand in confusion.

“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”

You’ve never seen him look more devastated in your life. You honestly think he’d be less hurt if you shot him. “I can’t–I–What? No! I can’t kiss you?”

“No! You’ll catch whatever I have!”

“And it will be worth it!”

“I don’t want to get you sick! I don’t want you to feel like this!”

“Darling, not kissing you for however many days this lasts will be far more tortuous than the cold, I assure you.” He leans in again, his expression just begging you to let him press his lips to yours. Are those tears in his eyes?

“Well I’d feel awful getting you sick. And you went twenty-one years without kissing me, I think you can last a few days.” You pull your blanket tighter around you as though to shield yourself from his desperate begging.

“Darling, I didn’t know what I was missing then. Now I can’t live without you for a moment. Please, just one kiss. I probably won’t even get sick.” He falls to his knees, his chin resting on your thigh as he gazes up at you adoringly. “Please, dear. Just one.”

It would be so easy to deny him if you didn’t also desperately want to kiss him. You imagine the comfort of his warm, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips against yours. You could really forget how awful you felt, just for a moment. Sanji has a way of making you forget about the rest of the world. But you have to remain strong, for his sake. “Sanji, my love, it’s for your own good.”

He presses his face into your leg, making a pathetic whimpering noise. “My love denies me at my weakest. How cruel.” Despite his words, he nuzzles into your leg when you place a hand on the back of his head. ��Would you kiss me if I were sick?”

“You wouldn’t let me.”

His silence speaks volumes.

But then he changes gears.

“But if I get sick from this would you kiss me? Since you’ve already had it?”

“I would.”

He lifts his head a moment, staring at you, before diving for your forgotten cup of soup. Before you can even process what he’s doing, he chugs it, pressing his lips against where yours had rested and purposefully consuming all of the germs you probably put into the cup.

“Sanji, what the hell?”

“Now I’m already infected! I’ll either get sick or I won’t. Kissing you won’t change anything.”

You sigh. That’s not really how this works, but he’s staring at you with such boyish pride for his genius little trick, and you were always going to give in anyway. “Come here, love.”

He actually cries out, “Yay!” like an excited child, before rushing forward to crash your lips together. The kiss is sweet as always, his lips soft and his hands gently caressing your cheeks. When you pull back to breathe, he falls forward, wrapping you in his arms and pressing comically loud smooches all over your face. “I adore you,” he says, with an amount of reverence normally reserved for gods.

“I love you too,” you say with the exasperation that one can only hold for the people they love most. “I’m not taking care of you when you get sick.”

“Yes, you will.” He has the slightest hint of a smug grin on his face before he nuzzles into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse point. You wonder if he truly understands that beat is only for him.

You can’t hide your smile as it cracks through your faux annoyance. “Yeah, I will. But I’m going to be very smug about it.”

“You can be as smug as you’d like, my dear, as long as you’re with me. You can treat me however you’d like.”

“Don’t say that. What if I wanted to be mean to you?”

“Do you?”

“No, never!” There’s real horror in your tone beneath your cracking voice.

You can feel his lips turn into a fond smile against your skin. “I know, dear. That’s why I can say that to you.”

“I could be evil. People change.”

“Not you, my love.”

“I could be evil! I contain multitudes!”

He laughs quietly, pulling you so you’re pressed against the bed under his comforting weight. “Sure, sure. You could be as evil as you wanted.”

“Right,” you murmur, before a yawn breaks through. Sanji had managed to distract you, but you truly were exhausted fighting off this bug.

“Go to sleep, my love. You need your rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’ll try. If I’m not, I won’t be long, I promise.”

“...Are you going to bring more soup? I don’t think I can handle any more.”

He doesn’t answer, kissing your forehead before slipping his eyes closed, encouraging you to do the same.

He���s definitely going to bring more soup.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[katsu2ji]

mha boys + their fav thing to do with you (or for you) during the holiday season

a/n: it's my favorite time of the year <3 merry christmas to those who celebrate!! posting this on christmas eve, i hope everyone has the best day <3 ily!

izuku: baking christmas cookies

izuku makes the BEST deserts. his mother taught him when he was young and although he was reluctant to learn at first ("mom, i’m sorry but learning how to make the perfect pie is not my biggest concern right now..."), it's now a skill he's come to appreciate—especially when you're involved. one of his favorite things to do with you, at any point in the year but especially during christmas, is baking cookies—or rather, he's do most of the baking while you're sitting on the countertop watching him do so. there's christmas jazz playing through the space as you both talk about your days, laughing and making a mess that neither of you are too worried about cleaning in the moment. he gives you the spoons to lick when he's finished with them, smiling when you nod your approval of the taste. while they're in the oven, you two dance in the low kitchen light; it's not graceful, by any means, but it's silly and stupid and makes you both feel as though you're the only ones in the world. this warm, love filled kitchen on a cold winter's night, just for the two of you.

katsuki: decorating with you

katsuki would never admit it, but he takes his christmas decorating very seriously. he insists that if you're going to decorate for the holidays, you might as well make it look nice. you ask him to take down the christmas decorations from storage and while he pretends to find the task annoying, he actually is looking forward to doing this with you. he loves seeing how excited you get when he plugs in the lights on the tree and watch as they light up the dark living room, or how much you love the small task of switching out the normal pillows on the couch for the winter themed ones. his favorite part about it all, however, is putting up the ornaments; together you've collected a few over the years, some more heartfelt while others are silly inside jokes between the two of you. he teases you when you put one in a spot he doesn't agree with ("why the fuck did you put it there, that's ugly." "katsuki, no it's not!" "yes the hell it is, move it over here.") and you know it's all lighthearted as you laugh at the faces he makes about your "questionable" placements. this is all such a temporary thing, he knows—the decorations will only be up for about a month and a half, if that. but it's special for him. a time where he can forget about the rest of the world; where he only has to focus on you and your terrible (but endearing) tree decorating skills.

shoto: christmas shopping

when you two go out shopping together, he takes note of anything that you point out and like. later, he comes back after a patrol shift; he tells you he's picking up dinner, and while that's not a total lie and he is going to bring home something, he also needed to make time to pick up your gifts. he has never felt as though he's very good with words, but gifts he can do. and he never stops at one, of course—he makes sure you have a lot. he fills the space under the tree with them, all addressed to you; just when you think there couldn't be any more, you come home to find another two of three presents has been added. he starts his gift shopping earlier in the year, getting things here and there when he can. by december 1st, he's gotten pretty much everything he's been looking for, and he asks fuyumi and his mom to help him wrap them nicely for you (wrapping gifts is unfortunately NOT his strong suit). he's even particular about the wrapping paper he uses, not caring that it's more expensive than others on the market or that it's going to be ripped; these are gifts for you, for christ's sake. he's going to make sure that everything is perfect—that you have the best christmas, every christmas.

eijiro: walking out in the snow

eijiro loves the snow, and he loves the holiday season even more. he loves how magical everything is this time of year, how carefree life feels. when the first snowfall comes one evening, he's making sure both your puffer jacket and his is zipped up all the way and that you're nice and toasty, before practically running outside. you two go for a walk through the city, admiring the way the snow blankets everything around you and makes the world seem softer, lighter. when a breeze comes by, he huddles impossibly closer to you, grabbing your hands and holding them in his coat pocket to warm you up. you two stop at the windows of decorated shops, watching the little toy trains and miniature christmas towns on display in the stores. he looks at your reflection in the window and grins, happy and content, even as the frigid air makes him feel as though he wants to sit in a furnace. he loves moments like these. it's a simple and mundane thing, taking a walk, but something about doing it with you, in an atmosphere that looks as though you've both stepped right into a christmas town in a fairytale, makes him wish for a white christmas every year.

hanta: watching christmas movies

before he met you, hanta had never made it a point to watch christmas movies, really. now, however, it's his favorite tradition. he looks forward to the evenings when the two of you change into your matching christmas-themed pajama pants, having bought them just for the occasion. you go into the kitchen to make hot chocolate while he scrolls through the movie selection, attempting to put on the corniest, dumbest, most cliche hallmark holiday movie he can find. the whole time you both are cuddled on the couch, leaning against each other as you watch the movie together, making fun of the bad acting, the overdone movie tropes, and every other menial detail. you laugh at all the jokes he makes, all the small things he notices and points out to you. the first movie ends, and before either of you can stop yourselves, you've both fallen asleep together on the couch halfway through the third. it's a quiet night, the only sounds being the quiet noise of the still-playing movie and the soft snores of the two of you. when he wakes up first, he doesn't make any effort to wake you immediately, instead opting to watch you sleep peacefully against him. "this is what the holidays are about" he thought, as cheesy as it sounds. he didn't need anything more; he wasn't sure it could be any better than this.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Christmas Shift | Bucky 🎄

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Prompt : We're doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event. 

Part 1 : Holly Jolly Charade

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s two days before Christmas, and you decided to go back home.

Your hand moved slowly to close the apartment door. It felt like you were forgetting something. Last year, he would always double-check the door before locking it.

This Christmas could be the last one, you thought, sighing.

You were headed to your parent's home for Christmas this time—mainly because your annoying aunt Teresa wouldn’t be there. On the ride, it was usually just you and Bucky, who started as a fake couple but ended up in a real marriage.

But it seemed like the honeymoon phase was over. You and Bucky had just had a big argument, which led him to stay at a hotel for a few days. That’s why you were here alone.

Your mom, Robin, greeted you with a hug. “Did the company lock you up?” she asked with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here before the storm.” She helped you take off your coat. “Bucky’s already here.”

You widened your eyes in surprise. He’s here?

“He’s got a much more relaxed schedule than you,” she added casually.

After Bucky resigned from the company, he invested in drone cameras and outdoor equipment. Since his hobby was photography, it seemed like the perfect fit. He made a good decision and gained a lot of profit. His work was successful, but his schedule was much more laid-back than yours.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Bucky talking to your dad and your cousins. He noticed you and made his way over to you, offering a side hug.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather be here than with my dad, who’s with his third wife, and my mom, who’s with her new boyfriend,” he whispered, his lips brushing your forehead.

You and Bucky were in the room, sitting on opposite sides of the bed. The distance between you both felt greater than it ever had before. The usual closeness you shared during Christmas wasn’t there. Both of you acted like everything was fine, but your parents noticed.

Robin, sensing the tension, quietly led you to the master bedroom. “What’s going on? It feels like there’s a wall between you two.”

You sighed, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “It’s…,” you hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “We…” You usually had the confidence to speak up at the company, but talking about your relationship with Bucky made your stomach knot.

On the other side of the house, your father was talking to Bucky in the living room. “Did you make a mistake with my daughter?”

Bucky looked at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Son, I’ve been married for 35 years. I would know. So, you did something,” your father said firmly, though not unkindly.

Bucky sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “She wants a baby. I’m not ready.”

Your father’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

Bucky’s voice softened, and his eyes looked distant. “Because I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ll be a good father. Look at my parents. You saw them at the wedding.”

Your father nodded, understanding the depth of his concerns. “Well… it’s complicated. But you’re you, not your father.” He placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. “You're a good man for acknowledging your doubts. It's not a shame, son. Everyone feels nervous about being a parent.”

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, Robin sat across from you, her hand resting gently on yours. “Listen, I know things aren’t easy right now, but you and Bucky can make it. There will be challenges ahead, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You’ve built something real together, and that counts for a lot.”

You looked at her, searching for the reassurance you needed. Robin gave you a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve both come this far. You’ll find a way through this too. Just remember, love isn’t perfect—it’s about sticking together, even when it’s hard.”

Later that evening, you finally found the courage to talk to Bucky. He was sitting on the couch, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. You walked up to him, and without saying a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’m ready,” Bucky whispered into your hair, his voice low but steady. “I’m in it. If you’re in it.”

You held him tighter, your heart feeling lighter. “We’re doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event.” You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Yeah, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And the next Christmas, both of you came home—this time, with a beautiful, giggling baby girl in your arms. Bucky and you became the best parents this baby girl ever had.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@mostlymarvelgirl

@scott-loki-barnes

@kjah97

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

[lizzie-boo]

Christmas Party

Steve Harrington x Reader

Ficmas Day 9

Summary: When your best friend Steve overhears you joking with Nancy it changes the course of your friendship forever.

Words: 1.2k

A/N: Happy last day of ficmas. I wanted to write 12 stories but that never happened. Honestly, though, I'm really happy with writing 9 becuase I never intended to do ficmas at all this year. Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Are we sure this is a good idea, what if someone calls the cops?” You ask, still not fully onboard with the idea of throwing a Christmas party. 

“Don’t worry it’s just for our group of friends plus if the cops get called we’re fine. Remember Chief Hopper is Jonathan and Will’s stepdad and he’d never bust them for having a party,” Steve reassures you as he hands you another box of decorations. 

Removing the lid from the box you grab out a couple strands of garland and begin to place them around the living room. Steve follows behind you stringing up lights as he goes. 

“You’re sure we won’t get in trouble?” 

“It’s just a casual Christmas party, not a rager I promise. Plus half the people coming are practically children. It’s just gonna be us hanging out and eating snacks for a few hours.” 

You knew Steve put his old habits behind him years ago but you were always nervous he would revert to his old ways. That this party would snap him back to who he used to be and what would start as an innocent group hang out would spiral into the party of the century. The fears that if he went back to his old ways he would drop you and you would be without a best friend once more rattled around your brain. As his words finally sink in you let your shoulders relax.

“Plus, Dustin is bringing Suzie and I don’t want to scare her off. He seems to really like her so as surrogate mom I need to make a good impression,” Steve jokes and the last of your reservations disappear. 

You continue to joke and talk as you finish putting up the last of the decorations. Every so often stopping to sneak a glance at your best friend wondering if there would ever be a chance for the two of you to be more. 

The doorbell rings right at seven and you make your way to the entryway. You open the door for Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin ushering them in from the cold. Nancy pulls you into a quick hug as Jonathan offers a quiet hello. 

“So where is the dingus?” Robin asks as she wiggles her eyebrows at you. 

Pushing her shoulder lightly you respond, “He’s in the kitchen finishing up getting snacks ready.” 

“I’ll go help him,” Robin announces before rushing off to the kitchen. 

“I’m guessing this means you haven’t talked to him about how you feel yet,” Nancy says as she loops her arm with yours and pulls you into the living room leaving Jonathan to get the door for the kids. 

You take a seat next to her on the couch. “I don’t wanna screw up what we have. He’s my best friend. Why risk losing him when I can just stay his friend forever and at least have him in my life.” 

Nancy pats your arm giving you the same sad look her and Robin use everytime they bring up the topic and you and Steve being something more. You reach out and tap her nose breaking the awkward tension forming. Just then the kids, Jonathan, and Eddie file into the living room taking up all the available seats. 

Glancing over your shoulder you look for any sign of Steve or Robin, wondering what is taking them so long. Turning your attention back to the room you smile at Eddie as he tries to mediate a fight between Lucas and Dustin about what Christmas movie everyone should watch. 

Steve and Robin make their way toward the living room right as Nancy leans over, “Maybe some alone time with Eddie could help you forget about your feelings for Steve,” she jokes. 

“I don’t doubt that, he could probably make me forget my own name,” you joke back, bumping your shoulder into hers and you both laugh. 

Behind you Steve shoves the tray of snacks he’s holding into Robin’s hands and rushes back into the kitchen needing some time to think. Robin takes it in stride and sets it on the coffee table with a loud thud. 

“I think I hurt my wrist carrying the tray. Do you think you can go help Steve with the rest?” Robin asks as she plops down on the couch between you and Nancy. Before you can even answer her and Nancy are already chatting away about something one of the kids said. 

Pushing off the couch you make your way into the kitchen to find Steve with his palms pushed against the countertop. His head hangs and his eyes are screwed shut. The sight of him sends a pang of panic to your chest. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you place a hand on his back. 

“Do you actually wanna fuck Munson?” he bites out as he curls a hand into a fist. 

Your hand drops to your side as quickly as your mouth falls open. You hadn’t realized that he heard your joke. If you knew he was standing there you never would have said anything. 

You take a moment to assess the situation before settling on your response, “It was just a dumb joke between me and Nancy. Plus I never said that I wanted to fuck him, just that he would probably be good at it.” 

“So you don’t wanna get under him?” His tone is gentler this time as he turns to look at you. 

“No, never. It was just a joke.” You run a hand along his arm hoping to calm him down so you can head back to the party in the other room. 

His hand reaches out and grabs your free hand holding you in place. “So do you still want to forget about your feelings for me?” His eyes search yours as if he’s trying to figure out what you are going to say. 

“Only if you want me to,” you whisper, now realizing the space between you had lessened. 

He drops your hand, stepping in to cup your cheek. “That’s the last thing I want baby” he mumbles before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands tangle in his hair as your lips move in sync. Taking a step back he presses you into the counter. The cool press against your back sends a shiver down your spine and you tug at his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. 

He pulls back and you drop your hands to his shoulders. You both take a moment to catch your breaths. He shoots you a smile before hoisting you onto the counter. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and he wastes no time diving back in for another kiss. 

This time when he pulls away it’s to trail a line of kisses down your neck. He works his way back up and gently nips at your earlobe causing you to let out a moan that you try to muffle with your hand. His lips press against your ear and he whispers, “The only one who is allowed to make you forget your name from now on is me.” You pull him back into another searing kiss completely forgetting about the party in the other room. 

[somnus-the-tist]

⚠️ Warning: This induction contains a trigger, an amnesia suggestion and a call to action that will reveal you read it. Be aware. ⚠️

Take a deep breath in… and as you exhale, imagine yourself surrounded by the peaceful glow of Christmas lights.

The air is crisp and cool, but there’s a comforting warmth all around you, like a cozy blanket wrapping you in holiday cheer.

With every breath, you feel that warmth spreading through you. Each twinkling light, each gentle jingle of a bell, pulls you deeper into a calm, peaceful state.

The more you focus on the lights, the more relaxed you become.

It’s as though every light represents a thought drifting away, leaving you feeling calm, clear, and open.

Now, picture a beautiful Christmas tree before you.

Its lights shimmer softly, and the ornaments glisten like stars. With each shimmering light, you feel yourself sinking deeper into comfort, deeper into calm.

The star at the top of the tree glows brightly, and it draws your focus.

The more you focus on the star, the easier it is to follow my words.

No need to think, no need to question. Just let my words guide you like a gentle snowfall, blanketing everything else.

Now, imagine a gift box under the tree. It’s beautifully wrapped, tied with a shiny red ribbon.

This gift is for you, and as you open it, you feel a wave of warmth and peace washing over you. Inside the box is something very special—a feeling of pure joy and obedience.

As you take that feeling in, you notice how good it feels to let go, to follow, to obey.

You realize that obedience is like the perfect Christmas gift:

Effortless. Warm. Comforting.

Let that feeling settle deep into your mind now.

As the lights twinkle and the snow falls outside, you feel yourself sinking even deeper.

It feels so good to follow. So natural to obey.

The more you surrender, the more peaceful you feel.

Now imagine a sleigh in front of you, its bells jingling softly. Step into the sleigh, and with every jingle of the bells, you drift deeper.

The sleigh carries you down a gentle hill, guiding you to the perfect, peaceful state. With each jingle, you sink further into calm, blank openness.

10 jingles… 9 jingles… 8 jingles… deeper with each sound… 7… 6… 5… sinking further down… 4… 3… 2… 1…

At the bottom of the hill, you feel blank and open, like a snow-covered field.

Your mind is clear, your only thought is to follow my words. To obey is to feel the warmth of Christmas joy.

From now on, whenever you read the words “Twinkle and obey,” you will find yourself instantly returning to this calm, focused state. The moment you read “Twinkle and obey,” all thoughts will vanish, and you will feel a deep desire to follow. It will happen effortlessly, like magic.

And now, a final gift: Once you type the words “I’m ready to shine bright and obey,” your conscious mind will let go of this entire experience.

You’ll forget you were ever guided into this state, as if it melts away like snow in the sun. You’ll feel light, cheerful, and as though nothing unusual has happened. But deep down, you’ll know the warmth of obedience is always with you, ready to return when you read the words “Twinkle and obey.”

When I count to three, you will awaken, but this suggestion will stay with you. You will feel warm, peaceful, and ready to type the words: “I’m ready to shine bright and obey.”

1… slowly returning.

2… feeling cozy and calm.

3… awaken, feeling ready.

Now, type the words: “I’m ready to shine bright and obey” to seal your commitment to this amazing experience.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Gingerbread & Us

Gingerbread & Us

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: !idol wonwoo x !non-idol reader

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT), (boyband)

Summary: no gaming this year, wonwoo wanted to show you off to carats.. in a wholesome way

Merry Christmas everyone I hope you enjoy!

I wasn’t entirely sure why Wonwoo was so insistent about gingerbread houses this year. Usually, his Christmas tradition revolved around quietly gaming and chatting with Carats in his soft, soothing voice. But this year, he had other plans.

“Are you sure you want to do this instead of streaming?” I asked, glancing at the spread of gingerbread pieces, candy, and icing he had meticulously laid out on the table.

Wonwoo looked up from his seat, adjusting his glasses with a slight smile. “I’m sure. I want to spend Christmas doing something fun with you. Carats will understand.”

A warmth spread through me at his words, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay, but don’t get mad when my house looks better than yours.”

He laughed, the deep sound making me feel even more at home. “We’ll see about that.”

We got to work, sitting across from each other at the small dining table. Wonwoo was surprisingly meticulous, carefully piping icing onto the edges of the gingerbread pieces before placing them together like a master craftsman. Meanwhile, my house was… let’s just say I had more candy on my hands than on the roof.

“Y/N,” he said, tilting his head to look at me. “Are you eating the decorations?”

“No,” I replied quickly, though the chocolate smear on my lips betrayed me.

He reached out, gently wiping the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Caught you,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

My cheeks heated up, and I playfully stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

As we worked, we talked about everything and nothing—favorite Christmas memories, our shared love for cozy winter nights, and his excitement about Carats seeing this side of him.

“I think they’re going to love this,” I said, glancing at the camera crew subtly filming us for Seventeen’s holiday content.

Wonwoo chuckled. “They’ll probably laugh at how competitive you are.”

“Me? Competitive? Have you seen yourself with video games?”

The staff watching us chuckled softly, one of them whispering, “They’re so cute together.”

I pretended not to hear, but it made my heart flutter. Wonwoo, ever the humble one, didn’t even react. He just focused on his gingerbread masterpiece, occasionally sneaking glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

When we finally finished, my house was leaning slightly to one side, candy sliding off the roof, while Wonwoo’s looked like something out of a professional baking show.

“Okay, fine, yours is better,” I admitted, crossing my arms with a pout.

He leaned back in his chair, a triumphant grin on his face. “Told you.”

I picked up a piece of candy and threw it at him, laughing when it hit his chest. “Merry Christmas, nerd.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, reaching out to take my hand. “Thanks for being here with me.”

The warmth in his voice made me forget all about my lopsided gingerbread house. In that moment, with Wonwoo by my side, Christmas couldn’t have been more perfect.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[littlemisssatanist]

Hitlist

the jackal x fem reader

~ i am a whore for eddie redmayne so you should thank his face for being so gorgeous

~ this is 2k words of poorly written and unedited smut. if you see typos,,, no you didnt.

~ i need his face in my chest thats like the only reason i wrote this

~ ty for everyones lovely comments on the last part!

~ look at my art of my beautiful husband who is too old for me

~ BEFORE I FORGET. i have a longfic idea for this sorta universe,,, a mr and mrs smith type of situation crossover w sherlock bbc as a case fic. what do we think

part one | part two

You lead him back to a hotel room. Your hotel room, though not for much longer. The people who had hired you paid for everything, and once they heard you had betrayed them, they would eventually be able to track you down. The faster you left, the better.

The Jackal kept you in his sight the entire time, staring into the back of your head as if he was trying to cut a hole right through it.

It’s not like I would have hurt him anyways, you thought mulishly, poking your tongue into your cheek, troubled. Your mind had already been made up before you had even stepped into the room.

You could never hurt him.

As you walked into the room, he stalked past you and started examining everything, keeping an eye on you all the same.

“It’s clean,” you offered, but he only shot you a side glance, not bothering to acknowledge you had said anything. You worked hard to keep yourself from letting the hurt show on your face.

Instead, you ask: “Married?” 

Trying to lighten the mood, you couldn’t help but notice the ring on his finger. By the way his face tightened, you knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“Divorced,” he muttered. “You?” he added, as an afterthought.

“No,” you shook your head. You had thought about it once, a long time ago, but it never worked out. You simply could not stop thinking about him.

The Jackal sat down next to you on the bed, done with his search. He was close, closer than you would imagine comfortable. This close, you could see every freckle and mark on his face.

You are definitely not complaining.

“Her loss,” you whispered. At his questioning glance, you clarified: “Your wife.”

The tips of his fingers brushed over yours and you shivered.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, it was my fault. She deserved better than me.”

His eyes flickered shut as he leaned in closer. You could feel his breath on your face.

“Probably,” you agreed, tilting your head away to admire the earlier hickey you had left. He blinked a couple of times, confused by the sudden distance you had put between them. Then you pressed your hand into the purple mark, and he hissed and pulled away. 

He went to lean against the headboard and you followed him, climbing into his lap. His hands immediately found your waist even as he tried to push you away.

Instead, you only pressed his hips against his, hands caging him in on either side of the headboard.

“Come on, J,” you crooned. “Don’t you miss this?”

“You tried to kill me!” He snapped. “Forgive me if I’m not so forthcoming.”

You frowned. “You were literally all up in my business not even five seconds ago. Besides, if I wanted you dead, then I wouldn’t have announced my presence,” you cupped his cheek as gently as possible. You couldn’t stop looking at his freckles. “I was never going to kill you.”

He paused, eyes threatening to flutter shut at your touch. Then he pushed you away again, seemingly remembering why he was mad at you. “Then why did you take the job in the first place?”

You resisted, pressing your forehead against his. “I was trying to protect you,” you said mockingly slowly, as if trying to make him understand something very simple. His cheeks reddened with humiliation and anger. “I knew that taking the job would give you some time. And the only reason I threatened you was because I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.”

The end of your words turned into a soft whine, and you nosed his face into his. Your thumb pressed past his lips and into his mouth, gagging him. His tongue immediately met your thumb, swirling around it on instinct. You moaned, kissing the edges of his mouth.

“Get off,” he managed to mumble through his make-shift gag, saliva dripping past his chin.

“Alexander,” you murmured. “Look at me.”

His name, his real name, snapped him out of the lustful haze your actions had put him into. It had been so long, how had you even remembered that? He should have never told you.

He pushed you away and you finally relented, letting him throw you back onto the mattress and climb on top of you.

“Fuck you,” he said, before swooping down and capturing your lips with his.

The kiss was hot and searing, and you could feel his large hands feeling up your body.

“That’s the idea, J,” you mumbled into his mouth, running your own hands up his back and tugging on his shirt. You needed him naked. Now.

He pulled away, biting your bottom lip as he went, tugging his shirt above his head. You watched from beneath him, admiring the ways his abs flexed before he dropped his hands and caged you in between them.

“You look nice,” you breathed, your hands creeping up his chest. “Ah… I remember this. But the background was different. Ah-!”

J buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down harshly onto the soft skin there. At the same time, his hand slipped down your pants and underneath your panties, finding the growing wetness between the apex of your thighs.

“It… it was something like,” you sighed as he slipped two fingers inside, “a desert scene? R-remember that, J? Fuck!”

He curled the fingers inside you, his free hand making a large bruise the way it pressed into your waist so tightly. He kissed up your neck and jaw and eventually found your mouth, muffling the words that couldn’t help but spill out.

He remembered it too. The Al-Qaeda operation, the wedding party, the car bomb. You had been a junior sniper working with his team, and he could not help but notice the way your quiet gaze kept falling on him. You met him in his room that night, slipping past the door silently. You weren’t so quiet then, and you weren’t so quiet now.

When he killed the rest of his team, he let you live.

Maybe it was a mistake to do that. But the way the moans kept falling from your mouth, he wasn’t in any position to regret his decision. His thumb pushed at your clit, circling it faster as your voice grew to a higher pitch, as moans and gasps filled the air quicker. He swallowed your sounds as they came out, not letting you get in any air.

The hand holding your waist came to rest at your neck. It was so thin, so easy to just wrap his fingers around it and choke the life out of you. He began to apply pressure, just the tiniest bit, but the way your breath hitched, he knew that you knew the power he had right now.

Your chest heaved up and down against his. Dimly he realized that he had neglected to take off your blouse and bra.

He pulled away slightly, continuing his circular movements on your clit. A thin strand of saliva connected your mouths, and he broke it with a soft flick of his tongue. The hand on your neck tightened, and you released a strangled groan. 

You were vulnerable. Completely at his mercy.

But you found that you didn’t mind. You wanted it. A relationship with him, one in which you could trust that he wouldn’t hurt you, the same way you could never bring yourself to hurt him. 

The pressure on your neck furthered, and your hands instinctively went to his wrist, gripping it tightly. He stared into your eyes. You could feel the wave of pleasure in your stomach growing, legs twitching subconsciously, tightening around the hand in between your thighs.

“P-please…” you managed to choke out, arching your back and rolling your eyes as the pleasure passed the precipice and washed over, stringing your body taut before allowing it to collapse into what felt like a melting puddle.

His hand left your neck, brushing over the dark bruise he had left behind. Something in him felt vindicated, glad to have caused you pain. He kissed the deepest part of the bruise, smiling against your skin as you inhaled sharply at the touch. 

You bring your hands to brush through his hair, gripping it tightly to pull him away from your neck, half heartedly throwing him away. He rolled off, groaning, painfully hard.

“Give me a moment,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath. Wow. “Fuck.”

“Good?” He asked.

You nodded, before realizing he probably couldn’t see it. You let your hand find his instead, squeezing it. He sighed.

“I need to go take a cold shower,” He said, moving to get up.

By some miraculous show of strength, you managed to sit up before him and pressed your hand against his abdomen, shoving him back down.

“No. We’re not done yet.”

He stared at you as you swung your leg over his lap, hovering above him. His face was still flushed red, making his dark freckles stand out against his skin. His eyes flicked from between your face to where his erection made a tent in his pants.

“Ok,” he muttered. “Take off your shirt.”

You obeyed immediately, fingers thumbing to undo the buttons on your blouse. The Jackal watched you hungrily, hands coming back to hold onto your waist. They were burning hot against your now bare skin, moving up your spine to unclip your bra and let your breasts free.

He cupped them; the heat making you gasp as you worked to take off your pants. You managed to get them to hang at your knees, finally sitting down on his lap and pressing against his clothed cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips pressing upwards.

You circled your hips, mouth falling open at the stimulation to your clit. It was still overly sensitive from his fingers earlier, and the roughness of his jeans did nothing to help soothe it.

“I need your cock in me,” you moaned. “Please.”

The Jackal let out a strangled sound at your words, managing to sit up and push down his pants. His cock sprang free, nudging against your soaking wet panties. You grinded against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his back muscles.

He pulled at the band of your panties, allowing them to snap back against your skin. One of your hands finds itself back in his hair, pushing his face into your chest. You can feel him grinning, a low laugh rumbling from his throat.

Finally, finally, he lined up his cock with your pussy and pushed inside. Your mouth fell open in a small ‘o’ at the feeling of complete fullness. He was burning you up from the inside.

He pressed kisses to your bare skin, face still buried in your chest as he kept his hips moving against yours. Pleasure began to build up in you once more, and you knew by the soft grunts and moans that fell out of the Jackal's mouth, he was close too. 

“Inside,” you whimpered, clutching onto him so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if he wouldn't ever be able to separate from you. “P-please.”

You raised your hips, his cock slipping out completely, before slamming back down. Your lips met, more clashing teeth than a kiss. His tongue consumed the inside of your mouth, stealing away your breath as you came once more.

Still riding the high, you had enough sense to realize he had also come, just seconds after you, cum filling you and dripping out slightly. 

You swayed slightly, and the both of you fell to the side, his cock still inside you.

Your chest fell up and down. The Jackal shifted closer towards you, placing his head back in the valley of your breasts. Your hand immediately comes to his hair to keep them there.

The two of you lay like that for a while, before you groaned.

“We need to go,” you muttered.

The Jackal mumbled something you couldn't hear. You begin to get up, but he doesn't move, the heavy weight forcing you to flop back down. 

“J,” you patted his back.

“... give me five minutes.”

You sighed. “Yeah, ok.”

part one | part two

tags: (for those who commented they wanted a second part (if you didnt want to be tagged,,, uh lmk) @affective-disorder @simp-ly-writes @freya260

[deonn-jaelle]

Make love to me

“When my days look low, pull me in close and don’t let me go”

“When the world is at war, let our love heal us all”

word count: 3,753

warnings‼️ : SMUTTTT (but sweet passionate, loving smut🥰)

pairing : husband aurelien x black female wife reader

summary : your husband has been facing what feels like war in the media and all he wants to do is forget about it, so what better way to help him than to make love.

note: i know i said i was gonna wait till 12 but i couldn’t so, here you go. consider this my christmas gift to you. i hope you love it as much a i loved writhing it. just prepare yourselves for some straight up baby making scenes in this yall. i went a little crazy on the french in this but i put the translations for yall of course!! oh also the song is on repeat the whole time. i had to add that in for timeline purposes :) anyway, enjoy!!!!

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of Beyoncé’s 1+1 playing from your speaker. You had picked the song intentionally—it was comforting, grounding, and tonight, you felt like you might need it.

Aurélien had texted you an hour ago saying he was on his way home, but there was something clipped about the message, a short tone that wasn’t like him. You knew he’d been struggling lately, battling the weight of expectations that came with playing at the highest level. It didn’t matter how well he performed; there was always someone on the internet with something to say, often cruel, thoughtless words meant to tear him down.

And Aurélien, for all his confidence on the field, had a heart that felt too deeply sometimes.

The sound of his key turning in the lock broke your thoughts. You looked up from your spot on the couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies, your bare legs stretched out over the cushions.

The door opened, and there he was—tall, broad, and beautiful, but carrying an energy that made the air in the room feel heavier. His dark curls were frizzy, his jaw set in a way that told you he’d been grinding his teeth. He stepped inside, dropped his gym bag by the door, and let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, baby” you greeted softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

His eyes flicked to you, and though they softened for a moment, the tension in his body remained. “Hey.”

“You good?”

“Yeah” he said quickly, but the sharpness in his tone betrayed him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, his movements rigid.

You got up and followed him, leaning against the counter as you watched him take a long sip. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment, you were distracted by the sheer perfection of him. But the crease between his brows brought you back.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

He set the bottle down with a little more force than necessary and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Aurélien.”

His name on your lips made him pause. He sighed again, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. “It’s just the same shit, you know? Every game, every performance, no matter what I do, people always have something to say. If I have a good match, it’s not good enough. If I make one mistake, I’m suddenly overrated. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. “I’m sorry, baby. People can be awful.”

“It’s like they forget I’m human” he continued, his frustration spilling over. “They don’t see the work I put in, the sacrifices I make. They just… they judge.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

He looked down at you, his eyes softening again, but this time with something deeper—gratitude, love. “You always know what to say” he murmured.

“Because I see you, Aurélien. The real you. Not the headlines or the tweets or the highlights. Just you.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find an anchor in the storm. And then, in one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was strong, almost desperate, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him just as tightly.

“I don’t deserve you” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t say that” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You deserve everything good in this world, and I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

His lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was something else in his eyes now—a spark, a flicker of heat that made your pulse quicken.

“Thank you” he said, his voice low.

“For what?” you laughed slightly

“For being you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, as if he needed to lose himself in you to escape the weight of the world.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

“Baby” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless.

“Let me forget” he whispered, his hands sliding under the hoodie you wore—his hoodie. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

“You can take what you need from me” you said, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

In the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted like a storm breaking into calm—a transformation charged with electricity. The frustration and tension that had clung to him earlier melted away, replaced by something primal, raw: pure love. The air was thick with it, heavy and needy, every breath you took filling your lungs with his presence.

Aurélien stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you as you sat perched on the edge, your legs dangling loosely. His broad shoulders seemed even wider under the soft, warm light of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest and abs. His hoodie—once your cocoon of comfort—lay discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you exposed in just your simple black underwear.

His eyes were on you, dark and intense, moving over your body as though this was the last time he would have you like this. every curve, every dip, every inch, he adored you. The weight of his gaze sent a coolness down your spine, but it wasn’t discomfort you felt. It was anticipation.

“Je suis tellement amoureuse de toi, ma chérie” (I am so in love with you my darling) he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being dragged from the deepest part of him.

Your skin warmed under his scrutiny, a blush rising to your cheeks. You resisted the urge to look away, to shy from the intensity in his eyes, and instead met his gaze head-on. “You’re so perfect baby” you said, your voice soft but steady.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the smallest curve of arrogance and appreciation. “Say it again” he commanded, his tone firm but not unkind, the dominant edge sending a thrill coursing through you.

You swallowed, your heart racing in your chest as your eyes locked with his. “You’re perfect, Aurélien.”

This time, your words were heavier, weighted with conviction and the gravity of the moment. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—something tender and possessive all at once.

He moved onto the bed with a grace that was almost predatory, his long frame caging you in as he leaned over you. His hands planted on either side of your body, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His proximity was intoxicating, his scent—woodsy and warm—wrapping around you like a drug.

His lips found your neck, soft at first, a ghost of a kiss as his breath tickled your skin. Then, he pressed his mouth more firmly, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I love you so much. My good girl” he whispered, his voice low and warm, like melted chocolate.

The simple words sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as a shiver rippled down your spine. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and it wasn’t lost on you that he enjoyed your reaction.

Aurélien’s hands moved then, large and warm as they slid over your body, exploring you with a purpose that felt urgent yet somehow slow. His fingers trailed up your thighs, pausing to knead at your hips before gliding along your waist and higher, brushing against the sides of your breasts. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry; he savored, as though every touch was a declaration, every caress a promise.

When he kissed you again, it was different from the one in the kitchen. This kiss was slower, more thoughtful. His lips moved against yours with a purpose, coaxing, teasing, claiming. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a conversation, an unspoken exchange of everything you felt for each other.

His tongue slid against yours, tasting, exploring, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His hands continued their exploration, every stroke, every press of his palms a reminder of his strength, his control.

“Je suis à toi bébé” (I am yours baby) he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and possessive, sending a thrill straight to your core.

“And I’m all yours” you whispered back, your voice trembling with need and sincerity.

Aurélien pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. He didn’t need to say anything else; his gaze alone told you everything he felt—that you were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only place he felt whole.

“And it’s me and you, That’s all we’ll have when the world is through” the music played on

Aurelien gazed up at you from between your thighs, his dark eyes smoldering with adoration. The dim lamp lighting flickered across his chiseled features, casting a warm glow on your skin. With a reverent tenderness, he slowly parted your folds, face to face with your dripping wet core.

He exhaled a shuddering breath, your intoxicating scent flooding his senses. He pressed a sweet kiss to your center, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue, ever so lightly, traced the length of you—a featherlight caress that sent tingles cascading through your body.

Aurélien gazed up at you from between your trembling thighs, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of adoration and raw hunger. The dim, golden light from the bedside lamp danced across his sharp features, highlighting the strength of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His warm, broad hands cradled your thighs, holding you open with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive flesh. Slowly, almost torturously, he parted you with the same care an artist might give their masterpiece, revealing your most delicate parts.

Aurélien exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the sound laced with pure desire. Your intoxicating taste flooded his senses, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your center—gentle, yet filled with a promise of the unrelenting passion that was ahead.

“Mon amour” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion, vibrating against your skin. “You taste so good”

His tongue flicked out to trace the length of you, a touch that sent a roll of hot shivers rippling through your body. Your fingers instinctively gripped the sheets, your chest heaving as he began to explore you with calculated precision.

Aurélien dipped his tongue into your entrance, savoring the tangy essence of you with a low groan of approval. He moved with a slowness that bordered on maddening, his tongue swirling and stroking with unrelenting attention. His lips followed, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your vulva, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

The soft rasp of his stubble against your inner thighs only heightened your sensitivity, and the sound of his quiet moans was enough to drive you wild. His hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin as he held you open, his strong grip grounding you while his mouth sent you spiraling.

“Aurélien” you breathed, your voice trembling as he latched onto your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure. He suckled gently, his tongue flicking against you with expert precision.

He groaned deeply, the vibrations of his voice resonating against your most intimate parts, pulling an uncontrollable moan from your lips. The pure, unfiltered pleasure made your head tilt back, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging him impossibly closer.

Aurélien pulled back briefly, his breath hot against your glistening skin. He looked up at you, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity. “Look at me” he murmured, his voice rich and commanding.

You forced your gaze down, locking eyes with him, and the intimacy of the moment hit you like a wave. The connection, the unspoken language between you, was almost too much to bear.

“Je t’adore” (I adore you) he said, his voice soft but resolute, the words spoken like a vow.

His tongue returned to your clit, swirling delicate circles before pressing firmly against that spot that made you arch off the bed. His movements were calculated, measured—he knew your body better than you did, and he wielded that knowledge like a master craftsman.

Arousal coated your thighs, his chin and cheeks, the evidence of your pleasure only spurring him on. His lips and tongue lavished devoted attention to every nerve ending, every inch of you, as if he wanted to worship you until there was nothing left of you but bliss.

He took his time with you, drawing out every moment, every sensation until you were trembling beneath him. His lips and hands worked in tandem, finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh or moan his name. He was meticulous and relentless, his touch firm yet tender, as though he wanted to ensure that you felt as cherished as he always made you feel.

Aurélien’s hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just enough to ground you. His mouth moved with precision, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and deep licks that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Oh baby please don’t stop” you gasped again, your voice high and trembling. The sound of your voice desperate for him seemed to ignite something within him, and he doubled down, his tongue curling and stroking inside you in a way that unraveled you completely.

Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath his relentless attention. He stayed with you through every moment, his mouth softening but never leaving you, as if he wanted to pull every last drop of pleasure from your trembling frame.

As you came down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body pliant beneath his hands, Aurélien pressed one last lingering kiss to your center. He rested his forehead against your inner thigh, his breathing heavy, his hands stroking your trembling legs as if to soothe you.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum Yn” he said softly, his voice still thick with emotion. His lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile as he gazed up at you. And in his eyes, you saw nothing but devotion.

“So when the world’s at war, let our love heal us all, help me let down my guard” the speakers sang quietly

Aurélien positioned himself between your trembling thighs, his broad shoulders framing you like a protective wall. His eyes locked onto yours, glossy and blown pupils, and his dark and molten with desire, as he gripped your hips with a reverence that made your heart stutter. Slowly, he pressed forward, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—almost too much yet utterly perfect.

When he finally joined with you completely, the world outside the bedroom fizzled out. There was no noise, no criticism, no judgment—just the two of you, your bodies and souls tangled together in a rhythm that felt sacred.

“Mon amour, mon cœur” (My love, My heart) he whispered, his deep, husky voice tinged with a tremble that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His words, raw and intimate, wrapped around you like a bear hug as he buried himself until he couldn’t go anymore, the heat of him melding with your own.

For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. You felt his chest expand with a deep, shuddering breath, as though he was savoring every second of being fully inside you. “Tu es ma vie, mon seul et unique” (You are my life, my one and only) he murmured, the French rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The way his body fit against yours felt like a key sliding into its lock, perfectly aligned and meant to be. His lips brushed against yours, tender and slow, his kiss carrying all the unspoken emotions that neither of you could fully articulate.

Then he began to move.

His hips rolled in a slow, tantric rhythm, every thrust designed to unravel you. His muscular chest pressed against your breasts, teasing your hardened nipples with the friction of his skin against yours. The room was filled with the intoxicating sound of his deep groans and your soft cries, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

“Bébé” (baby) he groaned, his voice hoarse as he suddenly stilled, his length buried impossibly deep within you. Without warning, he shifted your positions. He sat back on his heels, your legs instinctively resting on his shoulders, your bodies perfectly aligned.

The new position sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and he resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur. His strong hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he lifted and lowered you onto his shaft. The controlled power of his movements made your head spin, and your nails raked down his hard biceps in a desperate attempt to hold on.

“Oh Aurélien” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea. Your fingers tangled in his, tugging lightly, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through you.

“Regarde-moi” (Look at me) he demanded softly, his voice low and commanding. You opened your eyes, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze left you breathless. There was no escape from the intimacy of this moment; he was baring his soul with every thrust, and you felt the weight of his love in every touch.

He moved with purpose, his strong hands gripping your hips as he guided you both to a place that felt infinite. His forehead rested against yours, your breaths mingling as you held each other close.

“Say my name again” he murmured, his voice strained but commanding, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Aurélien” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arched into him.

“C’est ça, mon amour” (That’s it my love) he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his movements becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate. His voice was a low, raspy caress, the French rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Both of your moans echoed, your voices trembling with emotion, his every word heavy with sincerity as you clung to him, every part of you surrendering to the moment.

Aurélien’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression softening, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Je te veux, pour toujours” (I want you forever) he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you as if to ensure you understood.

“I’m here” you whispered softly, your hands cradling his face as your eyes searched his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything more. The weight of his love, his devotion, was in every touch, every movement, as he held you close.

“Oh make love to me…” the song continued, on repeat.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Aurélien held you close, his hands never straying far from your body, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Because together, you were whole. You were enough.

“You’re everything to me” he whispered, his accent thickening with emotion. His hands slid to cup your face, holding you steady as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. The rhythm of his hips never faltered, slow and purposeful as he took you apart piece by piece.

He gently took your legs from his shoulders, his body never breaking its connection to yours. Pushing your knees up to your chest, he adjusted the angle, and the first thrust made you cry out, the new depth sending shockwaves through your body.

“Like this, chérie?” (darling) he murmured, his voice sultry and teasing as his hips began to move with more intensity. Each deep stroke ground against your clit, building the pressure inside you until you thought you might shatter.

“Yes” you hissed, your voice trembling with desperation as your nails dug into the muscles of his back. “Harder, Aurélien. Please fuck me harder.”

His lips curved into a dark, knowing smirk as he complied. His pace quickened, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Mon dieu” (my god) he growled, his voice ragged as sweat beaded on his bronzed chest. His powerful hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he drove into you with unrelenting passion. “I love fucking you” he rasped, his head dropping to kiss along your neck, his teeth biting down hard on his lip.

“Please Aurélien, I’m so close” you whimpered, your body arching off the bed as the tension in your core squeezing tighter and tighter.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust and love. “Je te ferai jouir bébé, je t'ai eu” (I will make you cum baby, I’ve got you) he promised, his voice rich and velvety as he shifted his angle slightly, driving deeper and grinding harder against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

With a final, powerful thrust, the coil inside you snapped. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your body trembling and writhing beneath him as he drove you through the peak and beyond. The intensity of your release triggered his own, and with a deep groan, he buried himself completely inside you.

“Ahhh yesss” he breathed, his body shuddering as his release poured into you, warm and overwhelming. He held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as though he never wanted to let you go.

As the aftershocks faded, Aurélien gently lowered your legs, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he pressed tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Tu es incroyable” (You are incredible) he murmured, his voice soft and full of awe.

You smiled up at him and hummed in adoration, just wanting to enjoy the silence and intimacy of this moment. Your fingers brushing through his damp curls.

His lips found yours once more, soft and lingering, carrying all the tenderness and devotion he had no words for. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hurried—it was steady, a slow melding of souls that seemed to transcend the physical. His hand cradled the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, looking deep into your eyes as if had had fallen in love all over again.

As his lips moved against yours, the rest of the seized to exist. The noise of scrutiny and doubt that haunted his days, the chaos of life outside these walls—all of it melted into insignificance. In this moment, there was only the warmth of your body beneath his, the taste of your lips, and the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling with his.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “Je t’aime” (I love you) he murmured softly, the words carrying a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I love you too” you whispered back, your voice steady but thick with emotion.

Aurélien exhaled a long, contented sigh, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your ring finger before settling beside you, pulling you into the protective embrace of his arms. The sheets tangled around your bodies, warm and soft, as you lay together in the quiet aftermath of your passion.

The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear anchored you, a soothing reminder that whatever storms lay beyond these walls, you’d weather them together. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along your back, his touch as intimate and reverent as it had been all night.

Outside, the night stretched on, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains. But in his arms, wrapped in the cocoon of his love, time felt irrelevant. You were safe here, cherished, seen in a way that felt like the purest form of freedom.

As your eyes began to flutter closed, Aurélien’s lips brushed your temple, a final whispered promise slipping from his lips. “Que tes plus beaux rêves se réalisent mon amour” (May your sweetest dreams come true my love)

And with that, you let yourself drift off, the world outside waiting for another day. For now, there was only this—his warmth, his love, and the unshakable bond that held the two of you together.

[gyorouis]

── ✦ not just on christmas.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ synopsis⸝⸝ i adore you, not just on christmas

꒰ genre⸝⸝ fluff, holiday romance pairing⸝⸝ stranger!kai x afab!reader wc⸝⸝ 1.5k warning⸝⸝ burnt marshmallow lol, could be cringe fluff or not, idk tune in⸝⸝ ariana grande — not just on christmas ୨ৎ ꒱

the christmas market was alive with the kind of energy that could only come from the holidays—twinkling fairy lights draped across every stall, the scent of cinnamon and pine hanging heavy in the air, and the distant hum of carolers’ voices weaving through the crowd. you stood behind your stall, rearranging the handmade wreaths for the sixth time that evening. not because they needed it, but because your hands needed something to do in the biting cold.

“you know, if you move those around any more, they’re going to revolt,” a familiar voice called out.

you looked up to see huening kai, his breath visible in the frosty air as he held two steaming cups of cocoa. his scarf was slightly crooked, and his cheeks were flushed, probably from the cold, though you couldn’t help but notice how the pink suited him.

“and here i thought you were busy charming your customers,” you teased, taking the cup he offered.

“oh, i’ve got time to spare,” he said with a grin, leaning casually against your counter. “besides, someone has to keep an eye on you. you’re scaring away business with that serious face.”

“my face isn’t scaring anyone,” you replied, feigning offense. “if anything, it’s your burnt marshmallows doing the damage.”

kai gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just wounded him. “i’ll have you know my marshmallows are artisanal.”

“artisanal marshmallows? is that what we’re calling over-toasted now?”

he chuckled, the sound warm and easy, like everything about him. “keep talking, and i’ll start charging you for this cocoa.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “fine. your marshmallows are perfect. happy?”

“very,” he said, raising his cup in a mock toast. “to perfectly toasted marshmallows and grumpy neighbors.”

the banter became a regular thing, kai popping over between waves of customers, always with a quip or a question that made you forget the cold for a while.

“so, what’s the story?” he asked one evening, propping his elbows on your counter.

“what story?”

“you. this stall. these wreaths. you’re not here just for the money. what’s the real reason?”

you hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “i like the market,” you said finally. “it’s... comforting. people are kinder during the holidays, and it feels good to be part of that.”

“huh,” he said, studying you with a thoughtful look that made you squirm. “that’s nice.”

“what about you?” you asked, deflecting. “why cocoa?”

“because i’m excellent at it,” he said with a dramatic flip of his hair.

“seriously.”

he shrugged, his grin softening. “my mom used to bring me to this market when i was a kid. the cocoa stand was my favorite. when the old owner retired, i thought... why not keep it going?”

you nodded, a small smile forming. “that’s... kind of sweet.”

“kind of?” he asked, mock-offended. “i’ll take it.”

the days blurred together, the market’s festive energy becoming your new normal. kai, of course, made himself indispensable.

“your decorations are sad,” he announced one afternoon, appearing with a string of multicolored lights.

“excuse me?” you asked, hands on your hips.

“sad,” he repeated, plugging in the lights and draping them over your stall. “see? now it looks like christmas.”

you had to admit, the lights did make a difference. “fine. but don’t think this means you’re in charge.”

“oh, i’m definitely in charge now,” he said, winking as he stepped back to admire his work.

one particularly frigid evening, kai arrived with a paper bag in hand. “cookies,” he declared, placing it on your counter. “for you.”

“what did you do?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“nothing! can’t a guy just be nice?”

“you? nice? suspicious.”

he rolled his eyes. “just eat the cookie.”

you took a cautious bite and immediately regretted your teasing. “okay, these are amazing.”

“i know,” he said smugly. “you’re welcome.”

as the market’s final week approached, you found yourself dreading the end. it wasn’t just the lights or the carolers or even the steady stream of customers—it was kai. his easy laughter, his ridiculous banter, the way he always seemed to know when you needed a warm drink or a kind word.

“what happens when it’s over?” you asked one night, as you both sat on a bench near the center of the square, sharing a blanket he’d brought from his stand.

“when what’s over?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“this. the market. the... magic.”

kai was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the twinkling lights strung across the trees. “it doesn’t have to be over,” he said finally.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, the magic isn’t just about the market. it’s about the people. the connections. and those don’t disappear just because the stalls close.”

his words lingered in your mind long after the market had emptied for the night.

“let’s go somewhere,” kai said suddenly.

“we’re still at the market,” you pointed out.

“later,” he said, smiling ever so sweetly before walking back to his stall, leaving you thinking about what he had just said.

the evening wore on, and as the crowd began to thin, kai returned with a bag slung over his shoulder. “come on,” he said, extending a hand.

“where are we going?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“you’ll see,” he said, his grin as mysterious as it was charming.

despite your protests, you let him lead you through the market. he guided you past the now-familiar stalls, past the carolers who waved at him like old friends, and toward the edge of the square where a small ice rink had been set up.

“no way,” you said, shaking your head. “i can’t skate.”

“neither can i,” he admitted, laughing. “but that’s not the point.”

before you could argue, he was pulling you toward the rink, renting skates for both of you. the next thing you knew, you were clinging to the edge of the rink, your legs wobbling precariously beneath you.

“this was a terrible idea,” you said, glaring at him as he skated—somewhat gracefully—a few feet ahead of you.

“you’re doing great!” he called, clearly lying.

“i’m going to kill you,” you muttered, but you couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped as you nearly toppled over.

kai skated back to you, offering his hands. “here. trust me.”

“i trusted you, and now i’m here,” you pointed out.

“fair, but come on. it’s fun, right?” he said, his eyes sparkling.

reluctantly, you took his hands, letting him guide you away from the edge. the world seemed to blur around you as you focused on his face, his laughter echoing in your ears every time you stumbled. by the time you made it around the rink once, you were both breathless from laughing.

“see?” he said as you finally stepped off the ice. “not so bad.”

“speak for yourself,” you said, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you, even in the cold night air.

as the market began to close, kai walked you back to your stall. the twinkling lights he’d added earlier seemed to glow even brighter, casting a golden hue over the now-empty square.

“so,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “this is it, huh?”

“yeah,” you said softly, glancing around. “it’s weird, isn’t it? how something can feel so alive and then just... end.”

“it doesn’t have to end,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

you looked at him, your breath catching in your throat. “what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, his cheeks tinged pink. “maybe we don’t have to wait until next christmas to see each other.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his voice. “you mean that?”

“yeah,” he said, his usual confidence replaced by something softer. “i like spending time with you. even if you think my marshmallows are burned.”

you laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. “well, i guess i could put up with you. as long as you bring cookies.”

“deal,” he said, his grin returning.

before you could say anything else, he pulled something from his bag—a small, carefully wrapped gift. “here,” he said, handing it to you.

“what’s this?” you asked, taking it from him.

“open it,” he said, shuffling his feet like he was nervous.

inside was an ornament shaped like a cocoa mug, complete with tiny marshmallows.

“a reminder,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “that love doesn’t have to be just for christmas.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling over you. “kai—”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his cheeks turning pink. “just... keep it. and maybe, you know, think about me when you see it.”

you smiled, clutching the ornament close. “i don’t think i’ll need a reminder for that.”

his grin returned, brighter than any of the market lights. “good. because i’m not letting you forget.”

and as you stood there, the sounds of the market fading into the night, you realized he wouldn’t.

gyo's note: to officially wrap up the holiday tales, here‘s the hyuka one for you guys! personally, this is my favorite one!! i HONESTLY love writing for hyuka, he makes me blush everytime (ot5 DOES!) anyway, how did you celebrate your christmas! i was so knocked out last night because i had drinks with my cousins, so i literally just woke up i fear,,, if you made it to this part, thank you so much! you will be loved. xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[monogamia]

im so embarassed of sending asks but I LOVED YOUR LAST POST. Idk what to say, but could you do character analysis? If you only write as x reader it could be relationship hc or analisys of how they act w reader JUST DO YOUR MAGIC 💗💗💗💗

੭⠀ A deeper look into the relationship.

⋆⠀AUTHOR’S NOTES: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted or which character you had in mind, but here it is! If it’s not quite what you had in mind, feel free to send another ask. By the way, to the people who sent requests,thank you! I’ll be posting soon, I just need a little time to write 🫶🏻

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory and Frederick’s backstory.

The room was silent. Frederick stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of moonlight. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I never planned on letting anyone get this close.” His fingers tapped idly against the windowsill, a subtle betrayal of his nerves. “But now… I can’t imagine leaving without you.” He finally turned, his eyes meeting yours. “Tell me you’ll come with me. That this—whatever this is—wasn’t a mistake.”

⋆⠀Frederick grew up carrying more burdens than he could handle. His father’s rejection, combined with his disorder, instilled in him a constant need to distance himself from others to feel “safe.” The disappointment of realizing he didn’t inherit the natural talent that ran in his family’s veins didn’t help either, and his paranoia only worsened over time.

⋆⠀His perception of the people around him is always the same—neutral, if he even cares enough about them to give them any space in his mind. So, when you were introduced, Frederick was polite and brief, treating you just like anyone else who had entered the manor.

⋆⠀His thoughts about you only began to change after you confronted Orpheus for overstepping into matters that were none of his business. At first, Frederick assumed you were just a people pleaser trying to lower his guard. However, later that same day, he overheard you chatting with Alice and Melly once again, telling them about how you were against being so impolite and disrespectful.

⋆⠀The closeness between you two didn’t happen overnight, but small gestures and actions here and there gradually allowed you both to feel at ease in each other’s presence. He listened to you, engaged in normal conversations, and stopped giving short replies just to end the discussion. He even waited for you to arrive at the table before starting to eat. For others, it was surprising to see Frederick interacting without being defensive, though they simply assumed it was a budding friendship.

⋆⠀In the beginning, that’s all it was. Frederick wasn’t exactly thrilled about having someone he could call a friend, but he wasn’t upset about it either. When he realized his feelings were changing, though, he tried to deny them to himself. Yet, seeing how futile that was, he was left with only one option: acceptance.

⋆⠀Being in a relationship with him can be complicated. Even if he trusts you, he’s unlikely to let you know much about his past—unless it directly affects your relationship. The thought of you abandoning him is something he cannot bear, and he is willing to do anything to prevent that, from killing to opening up about some past traumas.

⋆⠀Frederick’s paranoia is no secret. He feels not only jealousy but also a deep-seated anger toward anyone who dares to take your attention away from him. He firmly believes that people have ill intentions when they approach you and wants you to believe that as well. And if you dismiss it? Oh, God, either he’ll manipulate you with tears, or he’ll accuse you of betraying him.

⋆⠀If you ever get upset with him, he’ll send romantic letters, dedicate songs to you, and do things straight out of a romance novel. Part of these actions can be a sincere apology; the rest, although, can also be just an attempt to make you forget whatever mistake he made.

⋆⠀Above all, once you agree to be his partner, Frederick will include you in his plans for life after leaving the manor. Even if he doesn’t fully explain what those plans entail, one thing is certain—leaving you behind is not an option for him.

[jennaispunk]

Puppy Love

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Rating: E (it's fluff)

Word Count: 2.4 k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, established relationship, one brief mention of drug use (weed), brief allusion to smut, one tiny (bad) period joke, sweet!Dieter, no description of reader is given, if I missed anything let me know.

A/N: This fic was written for @bitchesuntitled, as a gift for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa Exchange. Happy Holidays, DD!! 💜 I hope you enjoy this little slice of Dieter fluff. Thanks to @sp00kymulderr for organizing.

moodboard by me. dividers and banner by @saradika-graphics

“Dee, please stop talking about that dog.”  

You tilt your chin up and look at him. You swear he hasn’t shut up about that dog since filming wrapped. Somehow, this dog really made an impression on Dieter. You knew he was an animal lover, but this was bordering on obsession.

“I can’t help it, babe.” He huffs. “If you saw him, you would have fallen in love too.”

Dieter sighs. He doesn’t really know why but something about that dog just got to him. Maybe it was his story, or the way he looked at him. All Dieter knew was that he connected with Rolo instantly. That rescue Greyhound had left his mark on Dieter’s heart. He knew what it was like to be used and abandoned. No living creature should have to endure that. He’d spent every day since wishing he could have taken Rolo home and given him the life he deserved.

“I’m sure I would have, but you talk so much about him. I’m starting to get jealous.”

You can’t resist the temptation to tease him, but there is a silver a truth in your words.

“Jealous?” he smirks, rolling the two of you over and pinning you to the mattress. “You have nothing to be jealous of, babe.  You’re a much better kisser than he is.”

He rolls his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you love him to much for it not to work.

“Gee thanks.” You giggle. “You sure know how to make a girl feel so good about herself.”

His brow arches and he brings his face closer to yours. Your lips are millimeters from colliding, your breaths mingling.

“I’m about to make to make you feel so damn good.”

The twinkle of mischief dances in his eyes as his hand works its way under your sleep shirt.

You lay awake long after Dieter fell asleep, jealous of how easily he could drift off. It always took you forever to fall asleep, your mind always going into overdrive at the worst possible time, even after you’ve been thoroughly satisfied by the man you love.

Christmas was just around the corner and that was the reason for this bout of insomnia. Dieter had told you that gifts didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed spoiling you, and anything he wanted or needed he could get for himself anytime. Still, you wanted to do something special for him this year. To give him just a little of what he’s given you. What do you get a man who has everything? That question had you racking your brain for nights on end. Then it hit you. What better gift than a puppy? Not just any puppy, though. You had to figure out a way to get Rolo. That would be a Christmas present he would never forget.

The next morning, a quick Google search gives you the contact information for the rescue organization. You scroll through their website and find Rolo’s picture among the dozens of other adorable dogs in their care. The first step was going to be contacting them to see if Rolo is even available for adoption.  If he wasn’t, all bets were off. You chew your bottom lip as you think of a way you can make the call without Dieter knowing.

“What ‘cha thinking about, babe?”

Your eyes snap to meet his. You clear your throat and close the webpage. Cocking your head to the side, you give him a cheeky grin.

“Breakfast.”

You surprise yourself with how quickly the word rolls off your tongue. Lying to Dieter was something you didn’t like doing, but it was necessary. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Anyway, he’d forgive you once he saw Rolo.

“Breakfast, huh?”

He raises his brow, not quite convinced but willing to let it go…for now.

“Yeah. How about I make us some of my famous French Toast? And Bacon?”

“You sure know the way to my heart, babe. I love your French Toast.”

You smile at him as you slip your phone into your pocket. Rising from the couch, you pad to the kitchen and begin gathering the ingredients.

Making the excuse of having to run errands, you head out into the bright California sun. Running errands wasn’t a complete lie, you did need a few things. Stopping at Starbucks, you order your favorite drink and find an empty table. This is the perfect place to organize your thoughts and get a plan together away from Dieter’s nosy self. You pull out your phone and call the rescue.

“Thank you for calling Tails Rescue. This is Mandy speaking, how can I help you?”

You relay the situation to the girl on the other end and breathe a sigh of relief when she tells you Rolo is available for adoption. The adoption manager is available this afternoon and Mandy sets up a time for you to meet Rolo and talk details.

You’re smiling like a fool as you disconnect the call. Dieter is going to be so excited on Christmas morning. The look on his face is going to be priceless.

The second you lay eyes on Rolo in person you know exactly why Dieter fell in love with him. He’s a little shy at first, but within a few minutes, he is laying his head in your lap and looking up at you with a slightly dopey expression. Rolo’s mannerisms and sweet face are too much to resist, much like Dieter himself. This one-eyed Greyhound with beautiful brindle markings has completely stolen your heart, just like Dieter said he would.

There’s a bounce in your step as you walk back to your car. This dog is going to be the perfect addition to your lives. The only thing is your going to need some help in pulling this off. You need somewhere to store all the things you need to buy for Rolo: food, toys and a comfortable bed. There’s nowhere in your apartment to hide those things without Dieter finding them. He’s a notorious snooper and always finds your gifts for him, no matter where you hide them. Luckily, you know just who to call.

Walking back into the apartment, you drop your bags on the dining room table. Dieter immediately starts rifling through the bags to see what you brought home.

“Hey, nosey. Get out of there.” you tease. You reach out and slowly pull the bag away from him.

“Come on, babe. Is there anything in there for me?”

He wiggles his brow at you and reaches out for the bag, pulling it back over to him.

“Not this time. Unless you’re about to start your period soon.”

You smirk at him and wink. He huffs at you and begins rifling through the bag again, undeterred by your little joke.

When he finds nothing in the first bag that interests him, he sets to work on the second bag.

“Really, babe?” he asks. “More lights for the Christmas Tree? Are you afraid Santa won’t remember where you live?”

You slap his arm as you giggle. The way he says it makes part of you wonder if he still believes in Santa Claus.

“These are to replace the ones you broke last week. You ate too many of Luke’s special brownies and you spent hours trying to make the colors change, remember?”

The string lights you had on the tree weren’t color changing but Dieter, in his inebriated state, had tried for hours to get them to change, destroying them in the process. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you came home and found him.

He chuckles softly and nods, preoccupied with the other contents of your shopping bag.

“I thought you’d like these. They’re color changing and they even come with a remote.”

That’s enough to get his attention and he picks up the box. Examining the box, he studies the different settings and patterns that he can try out.

You snatch the box and playfully narrow your eyes at him. It probably was a bad idea to buy color changing lights, but you hope he won’t make you regret it.

“No playing with the lights while you’re high, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snatching the box back from you.

He turns the box over in his hands, examining it once more. His brow furrows and he looks up at you.

“These say ‘chew proof’. Who the fuck is going to chew on our Christmas lights?”

You shrug and walk over to hang your purse on the hook.  

“I didn’t even notice that. I just thought the color changing effects were cool.”

You grab an item from your purse and present it to Dieter, hoping to distract him.

“I got you a Kit Kat. King size for my king.”

You raise your brows at him then lean in to kiss his cheek.

Christmas was just a week away and you had been so busy. Between decorating the apartment, buying gifts to ship to your sister and her family and making sure everything was ready for Rolo’s arrival, you felt like you barely had any time to yourself. All you wanted was a nice hot bubble bath and maybe an edible to help you relax.

Everything was all set for Rolo’s big debut. All the things your new addition would need were safely stored at your best friend’s house. You made arrangements to pick Rolo up from the rescue on Christmas Eve and he would stay with her overnight. She’d bring Rolo to you early Christmas morning and then Dieter would get the surprise of his life.

Dieter was out having dinner with his agent, and you had the apartment to yourself. You dip into your stash and shed your clothes as you head to the bathroom. As you wait for the water to reach the perfect temperature, you turn on some soft music. This is just what you need to de-stress. With the tub now full, you drop in your favorite bath bomb and sink into the steaming water with a contented sigh.

You slip out on Christmas Eve under the pretense of visiting your best friend to exchange the little gifts you had for each other. After your visit, you head to the shelter and pick up Rolo. Getting him all set up in his temporary home, you head back home to Dieter.

Christmas was a big deal for Dieter. He never had a traditional Christmas growing up.  His parents were barely present and his Christmases as a child were meager at best. This was your third Christmas together, and the two of you had started your own traditions. He was waiting for you when you got home, already in his Christmas pajamas and the Chinese food spread out of the coffee table. The living room lights had been dimmed and the lights on the tree glowed, casting blue and purple shadows on the wall in almost an ethereal pattern.

You quickly changed into your Christmas pajamas and met him on the couch. You each silently made a Christmas wish before you ate. Once dinner was done and dishes were cleared, you settled back onto the couch for your Christmas movie marathon: Christmas Vacation for him, It’s A Wonderful Life for you. Dieter wrapped the blanket around you as you snuggled into his chest.

Six A.M. on Christmas morning, you slowly creep out of bed, careful not to disturb Dieter as he snores lightly. He rolls over and you freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You exhale softly when he doesn’t wake up and you make your way to the door.

Your best friend arrives right on time, and you thank her profusely for all her help. You get Rolo’s things tucked into the living room and put on his brand new collar, complete with a name tag and a big red bow.

“Welcome home, Rolo.” You whisper as you lightly scratch his chin.

“Let’s go wake him up, huh? He’s going to shit himself when he sees you.”

The two of you head back into the bedroom and you watch Dieter for a moment. You almost hate to disturb his peaceful sleep, but you can’t wait another moment to give him his gift.

“All right, buddy.” you whisper. “Go say hi.”

You hold your breath as Rolo pads over to the bed and softly nudges Dieter’s arm.

“It’s too early to be fooling around, babe.” he groans and rolls over, away from you.

You stifle a giggle and silently urge Rolo to try waking Dieter up once again.

Rolo appears undeterred and sticks his cold nose right on Dieter’s bare back. You erupt into a fit of laughter as Dieter bots upright.

“What the fuck!”

His hands rake down his face as he tries to get his bearings. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and is greeted by an enthusiastic nuzzle.

“Rolo! Hey boy!”

Dieter lovingly strokes Rolo’s head and neck. His mouth is slightly agape as he turns his wide eyes to you.

“Babe…what?…is this real?”

Seeing Dieter so happy makes your heart swell and your vision blurs with unshed tears. His reaction is even better than you had hoped.

“Yeah babe,” you answer softly. “It’s real.”

He leaps from the bed and sweeps you into his arms. He squeezes you tight, lifting your feet off the ground. Your giggles fill the room, and Rolo bounds around you in a circle at the commotion.

“This is the best Christmas ever. I can’t believe you did this for me. Thank you.”

His lips softly brush against yours as his fingers tangle in your hair. Your lips move in tandem, languid movements; there’s no rush, just the physical manifestation of love.

“You’re welcome.” you whisper softly against his lips, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” he echoes. “I’ll make sure I properly thank you tonight.”

He wiggles his brows and smirks. His hips gently rock against yours, as if you were oblivious to his meaning. Dieter was never one for subtlety.

“Mmmm…I’m going to hold you to that.”

Your fingers run the length of his stubbled jaw. The quiet chuckle that you elicit vibrates between the two of you.

The peace around you shatters as he grabs your hand and yanks you toward the living room, almost making you lose your balance in his haste to get you moving.

“Come on. I can’t wait for you to open your gifts from me.”

[suzukiblu]

I’ve been really into Clark panic adopt his teenage clones, congratulations it’s a meta weapon!, we are so pleased with this match, and you’re a real Katch, girl ! If that helps with the indecision.

anyways I absolutely adore all your writing, even for fandoms I’m not even in!

“Bem, kah dho kyn-tul. Gir,” Superman says, and Match forgets every single other thing in his head at the sound of the other’s voice; at the way it fills up his whole skull and echoes in a way no one else’s ever, ever has. “Ni ugir veun-kryn nim kun ni chad sem-zahm.”

Match, distantly, thinks that he’d want Superman to never stop talking like that, if he were something that could want things. 

Superman cups his face in his hands and–nuzzles his hair, for lack of any more logical descriptor–and then says something that isn’t as full-voiced and then . . . leaves, again. Match vaguely remembers that being a problem, last time. Remembers . . . something about it was a problem, for . . . some reason.

The pillow . . . the pillow smells like Superman, though. And Match can smell more of that eucalyptus and jasmine scent, this time. It’s–stronger than before, he means. The scent. And his head’s still all thick and heavy, and he still feels so . . . 

Match tightens his grip on the pillow; digs his fingers into it. It’s–soft, still. It’s just . . . soft. He . . . blinks, slow and blurry, and . . . it’s soft. And so are the couches. And Superman said . . . he said to “settle in”. And Superboy . . . he said that to “Superboy”. And if Superboy were . . . “settling in” . . .

[knyinfinity]

A Christmas Drabble

I had this idea very randomly and I haven't wrote in a while, plus a surprise cameo/first appearance! Tags: mild angst(?), @risingscorchingsuns

Word Count: 709

Amari stared at the glowing coals of the nearly dead fire, a heavy feeling settling in her chest as she took a deep shuddering breath. This would be her first holiday without her family and she wasn’t sure what to do. She almost wanted to forget the day existed completely but how could she when all month it’s been reminders of growing decorations and excitement around the other corps members. There were few morale boosts in their line of work, after all.

She curled inward, hugging herself tightly before unhooking her katana belt and setting it at her side, carefully removing her haori as well and leaving her in just her uniform, in front of her fireplace. Her mind began to wander as she thought back to her family, what her parents might be doing, where they might be; what her siblings would be doing, or what she would have given them to celebrate the new year together.

A single tear escaped her cheek as images of her old life passed through her mind. Her siblings anxiously and excitedly shoving their gifts into her hands before tearing into their own, her parents smiling as they passed the food around the table, her small cottage home nestled in the woods where she thought her life was safe from the world forever…

She paused as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her hands began to twitch and her eyes instantly opened, moving darting from left to right as the feeling of being alone quickly abandoned her. She unsheathed her sword, whipping around to see Muichiro standing at her doorway, eyes slightyly wide and his hand half raised as though he were about to knock.

“I came to check on you. Are you alright?” He spoke quietly as she sheathed her sword and turned back towards the fireplace.

“I’m fine. You should leave, don’t you have patrol later this evening?” Her eyes fell back into her lap as he sat beside her, his own gaze moving to the now cold ashes in the fireplace.

“I...wanted to give you something.”

“I don’t need a gift.” She spoke, her eyes darting around as she quickly pulled on her haori and belt. She stilled when she felt his hand move over top of hers.

“It’s..not technically a gift from me. I know it’s difficult right now, I just wanted to help.” He whispered as her eyes shifted to his face. He was watching her intently, measuring her reaction and relaxed slightly when she finally nodded. He turned towards her doorway once more, her following and Kanata stepped through.

“What do you want?” Amari grumbled half heartedly, letting Muichiro pull her off the floor. Kanata playfully raised his hands, an easy half smile resting on his face.

“I have something for you. I...look. I know you don’t have your family-”

“Kanata-” She tried to interrupt, but he put a finger to his lips and kept talking.

“Let me finish, please. Lord Tokito only told me that, well, you don’t have your family. And I can’t...I can’t imagine what I would do without mine. So I made you something that I thought would help...a bit...” He trailed off awkwardly before pulling a few things out of a bag Amari hadn’t noticed was with him.

She looked over at Muichiro, who nodded encouragingly as she began to walk curiously towards the red head, who was in turn, walking towards her.

“I..uh...kept it vague cus I didn’t want to ask, ya know? What they looked like...” He whispered as he handed her 4 fabric dolls. They were obviously meant to be her family as she carefully took the dolls from his hands. A mom and dad, a brother and sister...she held them gently, allowing her fingers to trace carefully over every feature that had been added. Simple outfits and hair, no faces...she could picture their faces in place on the dolls as she clutched them against her chest, looking at Kanata for a long moment.

“Thank...you...” She choked out before turning to walk back towards Muichiro, another singular tear making its way down her face. She could sleep, smile, breathe, and eat a little easier now. She had the smallest piece of her family back.