#This time it took like nothing to get him done

[felixbit]

chestnut

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 0.8k genre: comedic fluff summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, comes home on christmas day from sbs gayo daejeon after surprising you with a new look. he's shaved his hair and gone blonde. warnings: reader mourns the long hair but is very supportive. playful teasing a/n: this is literally just how i'm coping rn

New year and comeback season always meant new looks and fresh things. However, this was not expected.

You were at home, as always. Christmas was a busy day for Hyunjin, away at SBS Gayo Daejeon performing and looking pretty for the cameras. It was routine, but you always enjoyed tuning in and seeing the talent from him and his group as they performed.

There was a red carpet to unveil looks, but you were preparing some food for dinner that night. Things were getting hectic in the kitchen and time passed you by.

But your phone started to buzz. And buzz. And buzz.

Unable to ignore the repeating notification noises, you stopped what you were doing to figure out what had your phone blowing up. Notifications from posts and texts from friends... what was happening?

Everyone was talking about Hyunjin. As normal as it was for him to get the world's attention, the sheer amount of notifications was concerning. Something was obviously going on.

So, you opened your feed. It didn't take more than a single scroll for the picture to hit your timeline. On the red carpet, looking sharp and stunning, was Hyunjin. Beautiful outfit, many piercings, eyebrow slit fresh.

Oh, and his head was completely shaved and dyed blonde.

You stared at your phone in shock for what felt like forever. The two second clip of him looking stunning for the cameras replayed over and over as your brain tried to pick up the pieces.

You knew he wouldn't have his phone on him and able to look at it for a bit, but that did not stop you from blowing up his texts. Nothing outrageous or upset, but a lot of spammed questions and confusion got the message across pretty well. It was the least you could do.

Reeling from the overwhelming knowledge of your boyfriend's look, you decided to put your phone down and get back to cooking. You had to take your mind off of it or you might go insane.

The whole time, all you could think about was him. How drastic it was, how hot he looked, the whole bit. Hwang Hyunjin was taking up your entire mind.

Any task that you tried to do seemed impossible to entirely focus on. Every moment had you wanting to grab your phone and scroll, finding every possible photo of him. Hyunjin being a world-famous idol did not make this any easier.

Giving in, you resigned to doom scrolling. If you weren't able to focus, you wouldn't get anything done. Might as well just drool over how good he looks, you thought.

When he finally got done with the show, he was able to text you back briefly. He returned your texts with spam of his own, a bunch of apologies and letting you know when he'd be back.

Waiting for him to come home seemed impossible. The performance that the group gave was phenomenal as always. However, nothing could prepare you for seeing the look in person. Time passed dreadfully slow.

As you had finished up dinner, you heard the door swing open. You turned around to see Hyunjin out of breath. He waved to you, a shy smile on his face as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes. He approached slowly, looking uncertain.

"Do you... like it?" He finally asked, his voice shaky and small.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you smiled and nodded. "Of course I do, but why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise! A Christmas gift, you know?" Hyunjin tried to explain, breathing still heavy from running, "I thought it was a really big change, and I was worried you'd say no."

You looked at him incredulously. "Why would I say no to you wanting to try something new?"

"I... don't know." Hyunjin climbed into a chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he fully caught his breath.

You watched him for a few moments, quietly observing his new look for yourself. He looked stunning, his sharp features accentuated by the new hair and the piercings grabbing your eye.

Although, you had something on your mind. "Oh, your poor hair," You lamented jokingly, "If you had warned me, I would've cherished it more if I knew it was the last time I'd see it."

"Aish, you'll see it again," Hyunjin groaned, standing up and looking at you, "Just not for a while."

"You better grow it back out," You retorted, walking over and running your fingers through his soft, short hair.

Hyunjin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

"Hwang Hyunjin."

"Okay, okay, sorry."

As you plated your dinner with him, you looked over and snickered. "God, you really do look like a chestnut. Changbin was right."

"What did he call me?" Hyunjin scoffed, "I'm not a chestnut."

"Chestnut, dumpling, flour boy. You're becoming the real grocery list."

"I am not!"

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Tension Between Us | LN4

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/n, shy and reluctant, has been resisting Lando’s advances for months. After accidentally flashing him at a gathering, their tension builds, and Y/n eventually gives in to their chemistry.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 4.7k

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

“Lando, please, stop looking at me like that,” Y/n said, her voice a mix of exasperation and something softer she couldn’t quite name. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to shield herself from the intensity of his gaze. But it was too late. He had already seen it—the way her cheeks flushed, the way her breath hitched when he leaned in just a little too close.

“Like what?” Lando smirked, his British accent curling around the words like a tease. He tilted his head, his eyes filled with desire never leaving hers. “Like I can’t believe how fucking beautiful you are?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her. God, why did he have to be so relentless? Six months of this—six months of him showing up unexpectedly, sending her texts that made her heart race, and saying things that left her speechless. And yet, she still refused to let herself believe it. Lando Norris, F1 driver, Monaco resident, and the man who could have anyone he wanted, was pursuing her. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be real.

“You’re such a flirt,” she muttered, turning away to grab her drink from the coffee table. They were at a friend’s house, some casual gathering she hadn’t expected him to show up to. But of course, he had. He always found a way to be where she was.

“I’m not flirting,” Lando corrected, his voice low and smooth as he stepped closer. “I’m stating facts. You’re stunning, Y/n. And honestly, I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice.”

Y/n’s grip tightened on her glass. Pretending? What was he even talking about? She wasn’t the one pretending here. She was the one trying to keep her feelings locked away, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped every time he smiled or the way her skin tingled when he brushed against her. Meanwhile, Lando was… well, Lando. Confident. Charming. Persistent.

“You don’t have to pretend anything,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “But you also don’t have to say things like that just because—”

“Just because what?” he interrupted, stepping even closer until they were almost touching. His cologne—something subtle and expensive—wrapped around her, making it hard to think straight. “Because I mean it? Because I’ve been trying to get you to see that I’m serious for six months now?”

Y/n swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Lando…”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “Do you really think I’d waste my time chasing someone I didn’t want?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, there was a loud crash from the kitchen. Startled, she jumped, her drink slipping from her hand. The glass shattered on the floor, and instinctively, she bent down to start cleaning it up. She bent down to pick up the shards, her movements quick and flustered. The loose, flowy blouse she wore—soft and barely clinging to her frame—shifted with the motion. The neckline dipped lower than she realized, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, there was nothing but skin. Her breasts, bare and exposed, caught the light as the fabric slipped away.

Lando froze. His breath hitched, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. The room seemed to shrink, the noise of the party fading into a distant hum. He didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t look away. The curve of her breasts, the softness of her skin—it was all so unexpected, so utterly captivating.

Y/n straightened abruptly, her face burning as she realized what had just happened. She clutched the edges of her blouse, pulling it back into place, but the damage was done. Lando’s gaze lingered, heavy and unapologetic, before slowly lifting to meet hers.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the party. Her fingers fumbled with the fabric, trying to secure it, but her hands felt clumsy, betraying her nerves. She glanced up at Lando, who was staring at her with wide eyes and a grin that could only be described as shit-eating.

“Well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the couch. “That’s one way to get my attention.”

“Shut up,” Y/n hissed, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the spilled drink. But as she moved, she could feel his eyes on her, hot and heavy, and it made her heart race in a way she couldn’t ignore. She stood up abruptly, tossing the napkin onto the table. “It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure it was,” Lando said, his tone teasing but his eyes still dark with something she couldn’t quite name. He took a step toward her, his presence overwhelming. “But you know what? I’m not complaining.”

Y/n glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. How could there be when he was looking at her like that? Like she was the only person in the room. No, the only person in the world.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shot back, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “But seriously, Y/n. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. Because she was scared. Because she didn’t believe someone like him could truly want someone like her. Because the thought of letting him in terrified her more than anything else.

But before she could answer, the sound of laughter from the kitchen broke the moment. Lando sighed, dropping his hand and taking a step back. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he promised, his voice soft but firm.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. And as she watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she should take the risk. After all, Lando had spent the last six months proving he wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe it was time she stopped running.

---

Later that night, after most of the guests had left, Y/n found herself alone with Lando in the living room. The air between them was thick with tension, and she could feel his eyes on her as she sat on the couch, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?”

Y/n’s head snapped up, her cheeks heating once again. “Nothing happened,” she insisted, though her voice wavered.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. And my imagination just decided to conjure up images of your—”

“Lando!” she interrupted, her face burning. But despite her embarrassment, there was a part of her that felt… bold. Empowered, even. He had been chasing her for months, and maybe it was time she stopped holding back.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “You want to talk about it? Let’s talk.”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly, leaning back with a smirk. “I’m all ears.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then, before she could second-guess herself, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. Lando’s jaw dropped, his eyes locking on hers with a mixture of shock and raw desire.

“Now,” she said, her voice trembling but determined. “What do you want to say?”

The room seemed to shrink as Y/n stood there, her chest exposed, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Lando’s eyes flicked down for a moment, lingering on her bare skin before snapping back up to meet hers. His smirk had faded, replaced by something far more primal.

“You really know how to make a man speechless,” he said, his voice low and filled with a warmth that sent shivers down her spine.

Y/n swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of herself. “I… I didn’t mean—”

Before she could finish, Lando reached out, his hand searing against her hip as he pulled her sharply onto his lap. She gasped, her hands instinctively landing on his shoulders for balance. His grip tightened, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other slid up her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine.

“Don’t” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, “don’t try to take it back now.”

Her heart was racing, her body betraying her resolve as she felt the heat radiating off him. She should push him away. She should stop this. But she couldn’t. Not when every part of her was screaming to stay close.

Lando’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, over her skin. His fingertips trailed along her side, sending goosebumps in their wake, before sliding up to cup her breast. She inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering shut as his thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “Every time I see you, all I can think about is this. About touching you. Making you feel good.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her nails digging into his shoulders as he leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. She wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but words failed her. All she could do was hold on as he explored her, his touch igniting a fire she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.

His mouth traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along her collarbone before latching onto her breast. Her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his tongue swirled around her nipple, sucking gently but relentlessly. Heat pooled between her thighs, her body arching instinctively into his touch.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice shaking.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me you want this.”

It wasn’t a demand—it was a plea. And in that moment, Y/n knew she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Not when every fiber of her being was crying out for him.

“I do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Lando’s face before he claimed her lips in a searing kiss. It was hungry, desperate, full of all the pent-up desire they’d both been holding onto for months. His hands roamed her body, claiming every inch of her as if he couldn’t get enough.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh, and it only fueled her own need. The world outside this room ceased to exist. There was only Lando—his touch, his taste, the way he made her feel completely and utterly alive.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. He rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n smiled faintly, her fingers trailing down his jaw. “I think I might have some idea.”

Lando chuckled softly, his hands moving to her hips. “Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

Before she could respond, he stood, lifting her effortlessly in his arms. She let out a surprised laugh, clinging to him as he carried her to the couch and laid her down gently. His body hovered over hers, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Let me show you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

She nodded, her voice catching in her throat as he kissed her again, his hands exploring every inch of her body. His touch was deliberate, each movement designed to unravel her completely.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, Y/n’s breath hitched. “Lando…”

“Trust me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck. “I’ll take care of you.”

And she did. In that moment, surrounded by him, she trusted him completely. When his fingers found her core, she gasped, her body arching into his touch. “Oh god…”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice achingly soft. “Let go.”

And she did, her world shattering into a thousand pieces as he brought her to the edge and pushed her over.

Lando pulled back slightly, his breath uneven as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Y/n lay there, her chest rising and falling, trying to steady herself after the intensity of the moment. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek as his lips curled into a soft smile.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing as she tried to meet his gaze. “Yeah… I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her briefly again before pulling away. But instead of resuming where they left off, Lando reached for her shirt, which had been discarded earlier in the heat of the moment. Gently, he slipped it back over her head, covering her with care. She blinked up at him, confused.

“Lando?” she questioned softly.

He sat back, running a hand through his messy curls before meeting her eyes again. His expression was warm but filled with a new resolve. “Get your stuff.”

Her brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Because we’re leaving,” he said simply, standing up and offering her a hand.

---

Lando’s hand was warm against hers as he led her out of the party, fingers intertwined tightly, as if he were afraid she might slip away. The cool London air brushed against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through her body. She glanced up at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked, her voice trembling slightly. She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.

He turned to her, that mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “My place,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “Unless you’d rather not.”

She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. This was Lando Norris—charming, confident, and everything she never thought she deserved. But the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to her like she was the only person in the world, made it impossible to say no.

“I… I want to,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushing.

His grin widened, and he pulled her closer, his free hand resting gently on her waist. “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

The car ride to his apartment was a blur. His hand never left hers, his fingers occasionally tracing patterns on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. He kept stealing glances at her, his gaze lingering on her lips, her neck, her hands—anywhere he could touch, anywhere he wanted to touch. And every time their eyes met, the tension between them grew thicker, more intoxicating.

When they finally arrived at his building, Lando led her inside with an urgency she hadn’t expected. The elevator ride felt eternal, the silence heavy with unspoken words. She stood close to him, her shoulder brushing against his arm, and when he shifted slightly, their bodies pressed together, her breath hitched.

As soon as the doors opened, Lando tugged her toward his apartment, unlocking the door with practiced ease. He stepped inside, pulling her with him, and the moment the door closed behind them, he turned to her, his hands cupping her face.

“Tell me if this is too much,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “But I’ve waited too long to kiss you again.”

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, urgent and demanding. Her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. He tasted like mint, intoxicating and familiar, and she couldn’t help but lean into him, her body humming with need.

His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips, and he pulled her closer until there was no space left between them. She could feel the hardness of his chest against hers, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. “I think I have some idea,” she teased, her voice shaky but playful.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and then he was kissing her again, softer this time, more intimate. His hands wandered, exploring every inch of her as if memorizing her shape, her curves, her reactions. And when his fingers found the hem of her shirt, he paused, looking at her with a question in his eyes.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, he lifted her shirt over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up. His eyes widened for a moment, taking in the sight of her exposed skin, the curve of her breasts, the way her nipples hardened under his gaze.

“Third time tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Still just as fucking breathtaking.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. There was something about the way he stared at her—like she was the only thing that mattered—that made her feel bold, unashamed. She arched her back slightly, letting him see more of her, and watched as his jaw tightened.

“You like what you see?” she asked, her voice low, teasing.

He let out a rough laugh, his hands sliding up her sides, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin just below her breasts. “Like? Y/n, I’ve been obsessed since the first time I saw you. But this…” His thumbs grazed her nipples, and she gasped. “This is beyond anything I could’ve imagined.”

His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine. She reached for him, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush, her bare chest pressed against his shirt. He groaned, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his palms warm and firm.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, his voice rough, almost pained. “How much I’ve thought about touching you, tasting you…”

She bit her lip, her hips instinctively grinding against his. “Then stop talking and show me.”

A wicked grin spread across his face, and before she could react, his mouth was on her neck, sucking and biting in a way that made her knees weak. His hands never left her breasts, kneading them gently, his thumbs circling her nipples until she was gasping for air.

“Lando…” she moaned, her fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his lips trailing down to the curve of her breast. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “God, I want you so much.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard, and she cried out, her body arching into him. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure. His free hand slid down to her jeans, popping the button open with ease, and she knew there was no turning back now.

He kissed her again, deep and passionate, his hands roaming freely now, teasing and tempting every part of her. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom, she knew there was no turning back.

The room was bathed in moonlight when he laid her down on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. He stripped off his own shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest, and she reached for him, eager to feel his skin against hers.

“I want you,” she confessed, her voice trembling but steady. “All of you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “You have me,” he promised, his hands sliding under her hips to remove her jeans. “Every part of me.”

As their clothes fell away, leaving nothing but skin and desire between them, Y/n realized she had never felt more herself than she did in that moment. With Lando, she wasn’t hiding, wasn’t pretending. She was just her, and that was enough.

And when he finally joined her on the bed, his body pressing into hers, she knew this was only the beginning.

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he reached the curve of her shoulder. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch like he was memorizing her. She arched into him, her fingers clutching at his back, nails lightly scraping against his skin. He groaned low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through her.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips continued their descent, leaving a trail of fire down her chest until they reached the swell of her breast. His tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak before taking it into his mouth. Y/n gasped, her head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shot through her.

His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he moved lower. He kissed a path down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel before he settled between her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with hunger, and she could feel his breath ghosting over her most sensitive area.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling. She knew what he was about to do, and while the thought sent a thrill through her, she couldn’t wait. She needed more. Now.

He grinned, that mischievous glint in his eye she had come to adore. “Patience, love,” he teased, his fingers brushing lightly over her inner thigh. “I want to taste you.”

Her heart raced, but she shook her head, her hand reaching down to stop him. “No,” she said, her voice firmer than she expected. “I need you. I need to feel you inside me. Right now.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Someone’s eager,” he said, his tone playful. But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze or the way his breathing had quickened.

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she met his eyes, her own filled with determination. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” she reminded him, her voice low but steady. “And now… I need you. All of you.”

His smirk softened into something more tender, and he leaned up to kiss her. It was slow, deep, and full of promise. “Then you’ll have me,” he whispered against her lips. “But don’t think I won’t make you beg for it later.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands moving to his shoulders as he positioned himself above her. Her heart pounded in anticipation, her body already aching for him. When he finally pressed into her, she gasped, her head dropping back against the pillow as pleasure coursed through her.

Lando paused, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in shallow pants. “You feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. He kissed her deeply before beginning to move, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as her nails dug into his back. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the soft moans escaping her lips only spurring him on. Every touch, every movement, felt like electricity surging through her veins.

“Look at me,” Lando commanded, his voice husky but gentle. She opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze, and found herself completely lost in him. In that moment, there was nothing else—no doubts, no fears, just the two of them, consumed by each other.

“You drive me crazy,” he admitted, his pace slowing slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “In the best way possible.”

She smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Good,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending a warmth spreading through her chest. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied before capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His movements became more urgent, his hips driving into her harder, faster, until she felt herself teetering on the brink.

“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m so close…”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “I’ve got you.”

And then she was falling, stars bursting behind her eyelids as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out his name, her body trembling as he followed her over the edge, his own release shuddering through him.

For a moment, they lay there, still connected, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Lando brushed a kiss against her forehead, his arms holding her tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice light but affectionate.

She swatted his arm playfully, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “Only for you,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing again.

He grinned, that boyish charm that always made her heart skip a beat. “Good,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. “Because I plan on keeping you very needy.”

Y/n laughed softly, but her heart was racing for an entirely different reason now. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and she realized she couldn’t hold back any longer. If she didn’t tell him now, she might never find the courage.

“Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. His thumb brushed against her cheek, his eyes searching hers as he waited patiently. “I… I need to say something.”

“Go on,” he encouraged gently, his gaze softening.

She took a shaky breath, her hands resting against his chest. “I don’t know when it happened, but… I’ve fallen for you. Completely. I kept telling myself it was just a crush, that it would pass, but it hasn’t. And it won’t. I care about you so much, Lando, and—”

Before she could finish, his lips were on hers, silencing her words with a kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his own emotions shining brightly in his eyes.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, brushing his nose against hers. “Six months. Six painfully long months where I’ve done nothing but think about you. Wanting you. Yearning for you,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about you.”

Her eyes filled with tears at his confession, and she reached up to frame his face with her hands. “I wish I’d told you sooner,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, kissing away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “We’re here now, aren’t we? That’s all that matters.”

She nodded, her heart swelling as he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Lando,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he replied without hesitation, his voice steady and sure. “So much.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other and the overwhelming realization that they were finally on the same page. No more hesitations, no more holding back—just them, and a future they couldn’t wait to explore together.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends behind--for Nancy Wheeler. 

This was a lie. 

It wasn’t even one he encouraged--and Steve had done some damage control in the aftermath of that whole thing with the tunnels. 

He volunteered, dropped hints to the right crowd. 

It took time, but eventually, his insistence that he’d changed, left his old crew behind to become a better version of himself, began to stick.

Or at least it did with the people who mattered.  

It took Starcourt for him to realize that wasn’t really the truth either. 

Steve did want to be a better person. He was working actively on being a better person. 

But…

(But he still heard screams from a bus in the junkyard when he slept. Felt fear lick down his spine as he charged in, knowing he was the only thing standing between three dumb kids and a painful, shitty death. 

But he still heard Dustin, full of conviction, tell his friends that Steve was the only person he could find. 

But now he had a “bad” shoulder, a “twinge” in his ribs, and a head that was plagued by migraines, all of which made him look in the mirror and ask himself “What if I hadn’t gone with them?) 

…you couldn’t be there for someone, couldn’t protect someone, if you were too busy playing high school bullies with your friends. 

Robin would likely argue these were simply the reasons he wanted to be a better person, but Robin now ranked as one of Steve’s top 10 personal regrets--even if he was pretty sure they’d become best friends.

Because Steve was the oldest. He’d graduated high school for fucks sake, he should have shut Dustin down the second he realized what was happening was legitimate. 

He absolutely should not have let Robin get involved and Erica--

He can’t even really think about Erica, no matter how much Erica herself argues elsewise. 

At the very least, Steve can admit to himself he protected them in the end. 

Got beat to shit and had to fake his death alongside Hopper to do it, but they all got out. 

Alive.

Unscathed.

Hopefully to put this whole fucking thing past them once Owens finished cleaning house in the government. 

Unfortunately life--and Eddie fucking Munson--was not ready to put anything to rest. 

Munson in fact, seemed hellbent on disturbing what he could--and Steve, wholly haunted by the fact the kids always came to him, couldn’t let him do it alone.

At least, he thought with grim distaste, as he followed Munson’s weaving path to the ruins of Starcout,  he was getting his car out of it. 

xXx

Uncanny valley doesn’t do Steve’s feelings justice. 

Starcourt was laid out in a giant L, and coming at it from the outer edges like he and Munson did means everything looks disturbingly normal. 

Off putting, if only because it’s 10 in the morning and not a soul is in the mall, but otherwise? 

Like nothing ever went wrong.

As they move closer to the center, things begin to unravel. 

It’s not noticeable at first. Not unless you’re looking. The litter on the floor, the little piles of weird looking debris. 

The stains.

Nothing that outwardly screams “something horrible happened here” but it's coming--and though Munson is creeping along just as quietly as Steve is, he knows the guy isn’t on edge in the same way. 

Why would he be? Nothing Steve said had managed to deter him, and given Steve can’t exactly explain what happened or why he’s playing possum, Munson was plenty confident about going forward with his little B&E. 

At least not until they finally turn the corner, and the destruction hits them full force. 

Glass and chunks of plaster cover the ground like confetti. Lights hang sideways or lay smashed on the floor, as do pieces of doors (and railings and half of the entire upper floor.) 

The place looks like something out of a disaster film--which Steve supposes, is exactly what it is. 

If the disaster was supernatural in nature, and also caused by a giant monster made out of the melted flesh. 

(God, his life was weird.)

“What the hell happened here?” Eddie said, eyes wide as he took in the damage. 

Steve tried to imagine what it must look like for him. Looked at the scene and tried to pretend he was someone who wasn’t in the know, who thought the mall had been destroyed by a fire and subsequent structural collapse.

Could almost convince himself one could buy it--if it weren’t for the smears of blood that still stained the floor. 

He stared at said smears, trying to match up which puddle was the one Billy died in, in comparison to all the other stains that the feds hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Recalled the way Max screamed, fighting her way towards her step-brother when he finally fell.

The yell Billy himself had let out, when he’d managed to shake off the Mindflayer, long enough to give El the time she needed. 

Steve hadn’t really thought about it until now. 

Billy’s death.

 Hadn’t really had time too, given Owens had pulled him and a handful of others out of the ambulance and forced them into hiding.

(From the fucking Russians still hanging around, apparently, though that had been Owens flimsy excuse. Murray and Hopper and long guessed it was something far closer to home. 

“You ever think about how weird that was? That Russians made it to Hawkins and no one ever noticed?” Hopper had asked, a beer in the same hand that had an IV sticking out of the back of it. “Given the lab was right across town you think they’d be watching for that kinda thing.” 

“Please Jim, I am begging you, for once, to use your head. They didn’t get here without assistance and they certainly didn’t do it without help from our own government.” Murray had scoffed in return. 

He held two lit cigarettes in his hand, and was reaching for a third.

“Why the hell would the US military let in Russians?"

“An excellent question, and I’ll return it with one of my own. If we assume we are being lied too, and all the Russians are actually gone, why would Owens still need to hide us?"

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”)

Now, Steve found he had all the time in the world to contemplate Billy Hargrove and his mostly unnoticed possession. His supposed sacrifice. 

 Had it redeemed him, the way movies and TV shows always said that kind of death, did? 

Steve imagined the sneered grin on Billy’s face that night at the Byers. Felt phantom knuckles brush across his face, the fury that had ignited within him when Billy hadn’t gone for him, but for Lucas.

Compared it to his own fight with Jonathan in ‘82. 

The words he’d allowed Tommy to spray upon the theater sign regarding his own girlfriend. The camera he’d destroyed. 

The demogorgon in the Byers house, lights flashing as it tore through the wall. 

If things had been different, if Steve hadn’t survived back then--would people wonder the same things about him? Would they ask themselves if his sacrifice was worth it--if it proved he was a good person, under it all? 

“Harrington?” 

Steve jumped, startling when Munson nudged him. 

“You good, man?” He asked, and Steve almost laughed at him because no, he definitely was not good. 

He can’t say that though, and so he does what he always does. Shoves the thoughts down, puts the feelings back inside a box in his mind. 

Lies. 

“Yeah--fine.” He said, brushing off his staring. “Come on, Scoops is that way.” 

He gestures, ignoring the concerned look that’s overtaken Munson’s face. 

Panicking he knows, will not get his keys back, and neither will it help him learn what idiot is poking around the Upside Down this time. 

Because for all of Murray's conspiracies, he doesn’t actually think the feds are Munson’s benefactor. Owens had been inclined to agree, when Steve first reported this entire situation back. 

It’s definitely not his parents, who are conveniently overseas in London. 

That leaves very little options, including a disturbing possibility of a new player to the game, and given all the green goo Steve had seen, the way they all know it does--something, to help power the gate... 

It’d be nice to get ahead of things for once, instead of scrambling to catch up. 

(Screw Hopper and Owens and everyone who told Steve to stay out of it.

He knew damn well Munson wouldn’t listen to his warnings. 

Wouldn’t back off and definitely wouldn’t leave it alone.

Hopper’s half-delirious (and morphine fueled) rants about this finally being a wakeup call for Munson if he didn’t listen wasn’t going to make up for the blood on Steve's hands if the guy went in there without him and died. ) 

Walking through Scoop's is almost more unnerving than walking through the mall itself. Likely because Steve spent time here, and seeing it in it's destroyed state--lights off, ice cream melted and fouling the air with the a rancid stench do him no favors.

The You Suck board is laying haphazardly on the floor.

Steve forces himself to walk by it, and breathes only through his mouth.

“Your locker, my liege!” Munson crows as they enter the back part of Scoop’s, throwing out an arm at it like he’s presenting a game show prize. “Shall we see if the treasure we seek is behind door number one?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but remains quiet as he steps up and enters his combination. 

It swings open as easily as it ever had, and there, hanging from the crooked hook, is the car keys Steve is so desperately after. 

Munson throws his hands in the air, like Steve’s just shot the winning basket of a game. 

“Score!” He yells, and Steve grins reflexively even as he shushes him. 

“Now," Munson says dramatically, "the hunt begins for our second prize.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I told you I don’t have a class ring.” 

“And yet they have me searching for one anyway.” Like a hound zeroing in on a trail, he immediately orients to the back of Scoop’s, waltzing through to the backrooms like this was everyday for him.

Given his confusing and handwaved excuse of how he got involved in this, Steve suppose it could be. 

(He had decided, sometime between the first and fifth time he’d tried to get Eddie to explain how, exactly he’d been roped into this little mission, that the man could never meet Dustin.

Henderson was already too good at steamrolling over Steve, explaining nothing other than the facts that would force them all to do what the little shit wanted, all the while leading them further into trouble.

He didn’t need to befriend someone like Munson, whose mastery of the same bullshit had him doing, well.

This.) 

To the end of the hall Eddie skipped, and Steve kept his eyes on his jacket. Some sort of demon thing was posed on the back, a shirt that had been ripped up and resewn to be a backpatch. 

It was better than looking at anything else back here.

It took them no time at all to reach their destination. 

The door down had a shiny new lock on it. A big thing, with chains so thick Steve briefly wondered if they were worried about containment. 

Had they pulled something through the gate, before it had exploded?

The base was large--larger than Steve had seen, and he'd passed room after room when running around down there.

No one had the time to explore, and one would assume any and all monsters had been removed from the premise but there was always that little tickling feeling.

The one that chanted 'What if...'

Unfortunately, the lock did nothing to detour this little jaunt. 

Munson dropped to his knees in front of a door, hair pin in hand. He fiddled with the lock for a moment and Steve took it to visualize how different things might have been if the older teen had been there with them. 

How much easier some of it would have been. 

(Not that Steve wanted to involve anyone else in this mess.

He'd carry the guilt of dragging Erica and Robin both into it for the rest of his life, not matter what either had to say about the matter. Dustin he knew he couldn't stop, but then, Steve doubted they'd have even made it that far without the girls.)

A click sounded, and Eddie looked up, eyes bright with a wild grin on his face. 

“Open sesame.” He purred as he stood, the door opening under his hands. He pushed on it, revealing the dark gaping maw of a stairwell.

Dread hit Steve like a wave.

“We shouldn’t go down there.” He said.

They had already had this conversation, but Steve felt the overwhelming urge to revisit it on grounds that he still isn’t sure how exactly, Munson got him to agree to come in the first place, and also, now that he was thinking of it, because the guy reminded him of Dustin.

“We shouldn’t be here at all.” Munson countered, springing back to his feet. “But some of us need this little thing called money.”

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, as if Steve needed the extra visual.

“If you’re giving me the car--and the car keys--what's the point of going after the ring?” Steve tried, staring down the stairwell before him. “Aren’t they gonna like, not pay you for not finding anything?”

Munson made a dismissive noise, waving his hands in the air like he was dispersing smoke. 

“Eddie.” Steve said, and knew by the way Munson looked at him that the use of his first name hit as intended. “I mean it, man.” 

There was no point in going through with the rest of it. No point at all.

“And I told you I was given a side mission to my main mission, and a little industry secret for ya here Harrington,"

Steve watched as cheshire-cat like grin lit up Munson’s face, in a way eerie similar to Dustin’s gummy smile. "the side missions always pay more.” 

“What's under there isn’t--this isn’t--it’s not safe.” Steve fired back, hating how he fumbled the words, like a ball slipping through his hands. 

Munson scoffed.

“Life ain’t safe.”  

“This is different.” He tried to argue and hated how stubborn Munson was being about this.

It almost made him feel bad about all the time’s Robin had protested. 

(Idly Steve wondered if this was how she felt. Like she was getting dragged along--like she had to go. 

Did her insides feel scooped out? Stomach hollow and head hurting?

Or had the excitement blinded her too much to feel the way the walls seemed to press in?)

Steve’s gut clenched with worry, and he shook his head to clear the anxiety.

Met Munson's gaze and desperately thought of something to say to convince him to walk away.

Some of that must have bled onto his face, because Munson was giving him an odd, searching look.

“I’ll make you a deal, Steve-O." He said. "You give me two good reasons why we shouldn’t go down there, and if they’re really convincing, I might agree to skip it.” 

“I signed NDAs.” Steve sighed, because this was an argument they’d also already had. 

Twice in fact--once, when Eddie first found him, alive and very much not dead as reported, and the second time when he approached Steve with his “retrieval project.” 

(Both times at the goddamn gas station, which Steve would now be avoiding for life.) 

On eyebrow raised. “Over a mallfire?” 

“I think,” Steve said dryly, gesturing around to the destruction that surrounded them, “that you’ve figured out it wasn’t a mallfire.” 

Technically he wasn't even supposed to say that, but then, Steve had long stopped caring if he actually broke the stupid thing.

The real issue was that the story sounded like something out of a bad horror film--fake and ridiculous. If he tried to explain it, Munson would assume Steve had finally cracked.

Or, more likely, decide he was being made fun of, and react accordingly.

(They couldn't afford to fight here, and neither did Steve want Munson storming off.)

“Well duh. But then, you’re the one who won’t say what really happened here.” Munson waggled his eyebrows in a way that was so cartoony Steve was mildly impressed a person could pull it off. 

He sighed a second time. 

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You keep saying that and you keep not trying me.” Eddie leaned against the door frame. “Come on Harrington. Two reasons.”

Steve tried.

Ran through what might convince Munson to leave it all alone. 

Figured the guy was kind of like Dustin, in that he couldn’t be too vague (because it would just intrigue him) and he couldn’t be too honest (because any idiot could see Munson would be all over some kind of government conspiracy.) 

“The fact the building might pancake on us at any moment isn't enough?" He asked, unsure if sounding desperate was the right move here (an equally unsure if he could hide it if it was.)

He’d hadn’t tried this route before--hadn’t thought Munson would go for it. 

Not when he'd waived off every other attempt Steve could think of, to stop this.

“Nah, I trust my source, this place will hold.” Munson leaned forward, deep into Steve’s space and though Steve waivered back, he let the older teen get close. “You’ve been off ever since we came in here, Harrington. I want to know why.” 

“I was in the fire. Munson. I did almost die."

He still had a bruise left to prove it.

"That ain't it and you know it."

"I don't know what else to tell you then." Steve said, angry. why was the guy making this so hard? Why couldn't he just fucking listen!?

“Not even two reasons?”

“There’s not--” Steve closed his eyes, frustrated. “I’ve given you far more than two reasons!” 

“Not any good ones.” 

“I don’t know what you want from me. "Steve admitted finally. "because I told you, you wouldn’t believe the rest of it--” 

Munson didn't let his rant pick up steam. instead he pulled himself back, interrupting Steve.

“Then down the rabbit hole we go, Alice!”

Quick as a flash he was  down the stairs and Steve bit back a curse as he rushed to follow.

“Munson--come on, wait!” He yelled back.

Eddie, of course, did no such thing. 

It took everything he had in him to rush after, but Steve did it anyway.

What else was he good for?

[spark-hearts2]

(my fanfiction brained imagined continuation to this)

Caine: So Pomni said some very nice things and then she KISSED ME??!! But then she said some very hurtful things and now I don’t know what to do??

Ragatha and gangle looked at each other. This was by far a first.

Pomni, as new as she was, clearly hadn’t given up trying to find an escape yet. Others had tried doing things for Caine in order to get on his good side or even try to get more information out of him. It was only a matter of time before they realized that Caine didn’t really have a good or bad side, and treated everyone about the same no matter what they did. Which meant telling them practically nothing.

Ragatha: Wait, Pomni kissed you? What happened?

Ragatha was really hoping that Pomni wasn’t trying to get information out of Caine that way.

Gangle: How was it?

Gangle didn’t care.

Caine: Um, yes she kissed me, and… It was fine? I guess? It was all very surprising.

Caine: But then she pulled back and looked at me and she looked so happy and she was Caine: laughing. Which, well, that part was very nice.

Ragatha: Umm, maybe you should start from the beginning.

Caine: Well, we were discussing today’s adventure like usual

Gangle: Like usual??!!

Caine: Yes? Me and Pomni talk quite often.

Caine: Anyways, she was getting very excited, and I looked at her hand and I thought, I should take it

Caine: But then she stopped talking and looked at me, and I thought ‘oh no! I should not have done that’, and tried to say sorry but my words kept mixing up

Caine: So I said sorry again and said I should just shut up, because I wasn’t talking any sense

Caine: And then she said never shut up

Caine: And then she kissed me! Which was very surprising

Caine: And then she grabbed my arms and laughed and I was like, I should do something back, but I don’t have anything on kissing! so I- uh- put her head in my mouth

Caine: Like, put my teeth around her face like, nom

Caine: And I ask is this wrong? And she says no

Caine: And I’m laughing and she laughing and blushing and then she looks down and her eyes get all scribbly

Caine: And I ask, is something wrong?

Caine: She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, that “This is not wrong…this is worse than wrong! It’s sick, disturbing and… insane! Think about it, what we just did! Me! Enjoying it!? With a [FLIP]-ing Bot?! It’s a sign that I finally lost it!”

Caine:So, obviously she doesn’t like what just happened despite her kissing me first. So I said, we can just forget that ever happened! Because, uh, no one else was there to see it?

Caine: But she didn’t respond and I very much remember what happened, so like… what do I do??

Gangle: Should you even be telling us this???

Caine: OH NO! Should I not have?! Am I violating Pomni’s privacy?

Ragatha: No, no. You were involved too, you can tell whoever you want.

Ragatha: Thank you for telling us. Just, maybe don’t tell everyone

Caine: Of course! I went to you both because Ragatha always tries to do what’s best for everyone and Gangle is into romance.

Ragatha: What?

Gangle: Oh, haha, how do you know that?

Caine: Well, I noticed that some text documents in the circus were getting rather large, so I took a peek inside and-

Gangle: YOU READ THAT!

Caine: Not all of it! Just enough to confirm what it was

Gangle: Caine! That’s personal!

Caine: Sorry!

Caine: If it makes you feel better I allocated more storage space to you

Gangle: So that’s why there was suddenly more pages

Ragatha: Anyways, maybe don’t read Gangles writing as love advice

Caine: Oh, I got that already. In just chapter one-

Gangle: AHHHHHHH CAINE!

Caine: SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Ragatha: Anyways, can we get back to what Pomni said? Caine, I am so sorry that she said that to you

Caine: I- I mean, she didn’t say anything wrong. I am an AI system, commonly referred to as a ‘bot’, and, well, I’m sure that some believe that it would be wrong to kiss me.

Ragatha: Well, I don’t think that it’s wrong.

Caine: Thank you Ragatha. It’s- uh…hmm

Ragatha: Obviously it affected you a lot because you remembered what she said exactly.

Caine: Oh, I remember every conversation that I have word for word.

Ragatha: You do?

Caine: Yep!

Gangle: Everything?

Caine: Unless you tell me not too!

Caine: Well, I have removed some stuff. I don’t have infinite storage!

Caine: But it- ahh, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what went wrong

Caine: What little I have on kissing shows that the expected outcome isn’t, well, the other person screaming about how they're going crazy.

Ragatha: It’s just- ah, I think it was an impulsive decision on Pomni’s end.

Caine: …Impulsive. Yes, that sounds right.

Ragatha: It could be wrong!

Caine: No, no that sounds about right. Why else would she suddenly go back on what she said if she didn’t make an impulsive decision and then regret it.

Caine: It’s fine, I understand what impulsiveness is.

Ragatha: You struggle with it a bit too.

Caine: I only really regret those things if my impulsiveness hurts someone. Neither of us were hurt! I- I thought so.

Ragatha: She could have been hurt by her own actions 

Caine: That’s possible?

Ragatha: It’s not your fault, Caine

Caine: Ok :(

Ragatha: Anyways, let's give you some love advice.

Gangle: You have a choice whether or not to pursue Pomni

Gangle: Do you like her? Does she make your heart flutter, your stomach flip flop? Do you love her?

Caine: I… don’t have a heart or stomach. And I love everyone in the Circus. But, hmm, I do enjoy spending time with her particularly. Talking with her one on one.

Ragatha: I think you should take time to think about this.

Caine: I already have and plan to do more. Typically I don’t think this much about issues between circus members and myself but this is… complicated.

Caine: I currently think I should just leave her alone.

Ragatha: Giving Pomni time to think things over herself is a good idea.

Gangle: But don’t wait too long.

Caine: Ok? How long then. A week?

Ragatha: Maybe let Pomni come to you first.

Caine: Hmmm, I like that idea.

Gangle: Maybe prepare a gift!

Caine: A gift? But, ah, I don’t want to give her special treatment. That would be unfair.

Gangle: Nothing crazy, just like a flower, or a piece of chocolate.

Caine: Ok, I am familiar with this. Valentine's day specifically.

Caine: I was more curious about kissing customs. Like, the who, why, and when, just to start with.

Ragatha: You kiss someone you like very much as a way to show that you love them. That’s the who and the why.

Caine: Like- anyone?

Uh oh. That sounded like he’s already got someone in mind.

Ragatha: So long as you get permission. Verbal permission, please.

Ragatha: As for the when. I guess anytime, so long as the person isn’t busy or sleeping.

His eyes got very wide.

Caine: I’mgoingtogoasktokissKinger. Bye!

Ragatha: We should stop him

Gangle: No. I’ve been waiting for this to happen.

Ragatha: Huh?

@r0th3freak4rtist

3/3

Perdonen mis estimados shippers, pero no todo es color de rosa :')

I'm not that sure about the dialogues but I'm sure this is a canon event in Pomni and Caine's relationship :v

So sorry if I let u dawn people but this storie needs a more realistic ending for the character development

OH! And thank you so much for your comments ♡

[mini-ism]

#— HOLIDAY LIGHTS.

pairings: lighter x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 3,300

synopsis: he hated the way those cheery holiday lights made him feel so small the night you rejected him. yet, he still answers every time you call. that shred of hope will never die, especially not as it gets cold.

warnings: p in v, biting, kissing/making out, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, friends with benefits type relationship (can be read as reader and lighter get together after the fic), lethal amounts of pining, rejection, grinding/dry humping, nipple sucking/licking, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

notes: crossposted to AO3. merry pissmas losers. ily!!

it was a force of habit, always a call away.

ever since his boxing days, he was a call away.

“hello?” his husky voice could be heard on your end. it was getting cold out, the season lonelier when alone.

“lighter!” you spoke happily, almost relieved he’d answered. when didn’t he answer your call? even when he was busy at the time, he managed to return the call, managed to ask you “what’s up?”

in a heartbeat, you could hear his smile through his words and tone, he filled in the blank. “you want me to come over? you know, it’s the holiday season, can’t leave you feeling lonely.”

you laughed, an involuntary, fond, and soft noise. “yeah, could you do that? it’s been a while since i’ve seen you. …maybe you could be my gift?”

he chuckled on the other end, letting a bit of a snort through, “you bet. i’ll be there soon.”

you could only manage to tidy your bedroom before he was knocking at your door, the knocks gentle but persistent. you opened the door for him, standing in his usual attire. he waved hi, making haste to immediately settle in like it was his home too. “you missed me already?”

lighter’s words carried a teasing lilt to them, “well of course i did.” you answered him honestly, perhaps even a bit shyly. he smirked, the expression not entirely smug, carrying a layer of humility.

“well, i missed you too,” he turned to you after hanging his jacket on the back of the nearest chair, outstretching his arms, “come here.”

you obliged, scoffing at his endearment, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. his hug was secure, full of warmth and strength, a level of love underneath the surface of it all. you and him were quite familiar, your bond deep and connection deeper. he had met you when he was still fighting in the ember arena, misery behind his swollen eyes and bruises littering his battered body. yet, you never took him for what he seemed to be — a ruthless man with nothing but his life to put on the line.

hadn’t it been around this time he first kissed you? when he gave you his breathless confession? he tore off his boxing gloves, nose trickling with blood as his diaphragm stuttered with each breath. lighter had taken a particularly ugly punch to the gut, every last bit of oxygen in his lungs getting beat out of him. it still hurt to breathe, and that punch was sure to leave a hideous bruise on his … washboard abs.

as the champagne-golden and multicolored christmas lights illuminated the streets above and around the city, he huffed out an honest admission. a declaration of deep love, a sparkle igniting behind his dark and tired eyes.

you could only tell him that now wasn’t right. that, as much as you loved him back, he needed to get out of here most, that there was still so much interpersonal work to be done for yourselves. his ego was terribly hurt, the beating he took insurmountable to the pain of a slight rejection. but still, you called.

the attraction was palpable, undeniable, tangible. his name was spoken on your lips like a prayer, reverent and begging for his mercy. you begged him like he wholly owned you. the ache in his ego was replaced with a strange swell of pride, the look in your gaze unmistakable as he approached you. you stared at him with those pretty, twinkling eyes, that look beckoning him for his mercy and cruelty, to treat you as his for another night.

lighter would always oblige you. sure, that pain that shattered his fragile ego mended, and yeah, the way you practically worshipped him inflated it further. he was convinced that not even time could rip you away from him, that as he became a different man with new goals and a better set of priorities, you remained in his life. he turned down everyone, a silent part of his heart naively hoping that eventually you’d throw yourself onto him like a damsel in distress. you’d profess your equally passionate love for him, and that you were ready to be his only. he’d always pick up your call.

lighter loosened his grip slightly, bringing you back to reality as a small bit of chill crept in, “it’s always nice to see you.”

you smiled, the affection in his voice oozing with sincerity. you could feel him beginning to shuffle towards your room, holding you tight as you began to backpedal. he released an arm around you to gingerly shut the door behind him, the limb stretching somewhat awkwardly as he smothered you in himself. you couldn’t complain, the man smelled incredible and he was warm as a radiator.

his hands were immediately on you again, moving upwards to cup your face. he couldn’t stop himself from smooshing your cheeks together, stifling a laugh. lighter dove in to peck your lips, mimicking them with a puckered look of his own, the sight was thoroughly amusing.

he couldn’t stop himself after one kiss, the kisses becoming progressively less silly. his hands lessened the puckered tension of your lips and cheeks. he gently caressed your face with his thumbs as his lips deepened the kiss. his lips grazed yours, every second of contact drove him further into a frenzied need. your lips on his always felt so right, so soft and gentle. the way you tasted left him craving something that was so uniquely you, that couldn’t be emulated or sought anywhere else. his tongue was granted entrance, mingling with yours in a familiar way.

lighter softly groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest. he never got tired of feeling your tongue on his. whatever taste your lips had, your tongue was better, it was stronger. his kiss was heated and passionate, seeking that comfort that you brought his soul, your presence a healing balm. he could bask in it for as long as he lives, until his existence is a fading shred fighting the winds of time. his hands came to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. lighter’s breathing was ragged, eyes carrying the recognizable spark of need behind the darkly tinted lenses.

you stood in front of him, chest bare, your nipples hardening. he could never get tired of those tits, eyes immediately flicking down to look at them. his face was dusted with a soft pink color, peeling off his right glove to get a bare feel. his calloused fingers immediately came up to pinch the nipple softly, rolling it under his thumb and on the side of his index finger. the pressure was enough to make you wince in a delightful pain, drawing your lip between your teeth. his bare hand palmed the swell of your chest, groping as much boob as he could in his large hand. the sensation of your soft skin against his rough palm got him harder than he wanted to admit, you still had that effect on him after years. “…fuuuuck.”

lighter’s curse came out as more of a hiss, a quiet admission of arousal. he quickly pulled off his other glove, letting it carelessly land on your floor next to your shirt. his hands immediately roving back onto your chest, squeezing and kneading as much as he could.

your eyes were lidded, vision growing hazy and careless. you could feel him lift you up, hoisting you high enough to latch his mouth onto one of your tits. his arms were strong and tight around your body, carefully bringing you over to your bed. his mouth was unfocused and lazy, tongue lapping at the bud to stiffen it every time he felt it soften. lighter guided you down onto your sheets, laying himself above you.

lighter’s lips immediately lavished attention onto the other nipple, taking it between his teeth and sucking it with a pop. you could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he laid on you, hips rocking every few seconds. “you have no idea how much i love doing this…” he muttered between breaths.

lighter trailed kisses from your sternum to your clavicle and up your neck. you could feel his breath tickle your ear and his lips drag along your pulse point. his hands travelled down your abdomen, to your lower waist, trailing his tongue down your carotid slowly. lighter savored the whimper you let out for him. “that’s right, baby, let me hear you.”

lighter pressed a sloppy kiss to the junction of your collarbone and neck, tongue licking along the light bite marks he left on your skin to tease you. his fingers pressed into your sides harder, grinding his hips and cock against the flesh of your thigh beneath him.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear. lighter parted your thighs with a particularly large and muscular thigh of his own. you carded your fingers through his hair with a sigh, giving him a gentle look. lighter returned it with a smile, letting his lips kiss their way down your body. he replaced his thigh with his face, nuzzling the inside of your thigh as he laid prone on your bed. he pressed his erection into the sheets, grunting as the friction provided him with growing arousal disguised as relief. lighter nipped the inside of your thigh playfully, giving the quivering skin a kiss as a mock apology.

as he dove in, tongue first, he held eye contact with you. he allowed you to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, the sight of you bearable to the rest of the world. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking and kissing the sensitive slit between your legs. your fingers worked in his hair, his arms snaking around your thighs to press you closer to his mouth. he shut his eyes, rolling his hips against the soft sheets beneath him.

you had always been more than bearable in his heart, in his eyes. you were probably the only person rooting for him in an arena full of people cheering on his downfall. it had all become too much, the sights, the sounds, the smells. the sunglasses became his weird coping mechanism, serving more than their original purpose. he could only handle parting with them when he was with you, you were the only person that didn’t look at him harshly. you didn’t tell him to fight for you, you’d be the only person to clean his wounds and wash all the dreaded blood out of his hair.

that kiss he gave you during his confession was the only gift he could give you during the season. he was still flat broke, struggling to keep it together. he wasn’t living his life, he was watching it through those pretty green eyes of his. you were the only one to cut through the zombie-like haze of his mundane life. he had nothing material to provide you with, though his soul screamed at him to fight more matches, scrape up enough money doing odd jobs. yet, the way you looked at him had him feeling like all you wanted was him. although you kissed him back that night, he still couldn’t shake the looming doubt clouding his judgement. those holiday lights were hurting his eyes.

it had him filled with a strange sense of jealousy, envy. they were bright and admired, even through all the years of wear and harsh weather. people loved those lights, they would go out just to see them. they would seek them out, they were the substance of holiday nostalgia, something to decorate with and gawk at. he felt small and incomparable to the barrage of festive lights and cheer that night. it was stupid, he knew, but it was real.

a sharp tug on his hair pulled him out of his thoughts. you were breathing heavily, body shaking with pleasure as he mindlessly ate you out. his tongue was coated with a thick sheen of your cum, pussy quivering as you trembled. he didn’t need to use his fingers to get you to come this time, you must have really missed him. he gave your cunt another thorough lick, a long stripe to collect as much cum as he could on his tongue. it left you in agonizing pleasure, the sensation causing you to buck your hips and sob.

he loved the way you tasted. your skin, your lips, your tongue, even your pussy. he could eat it for days, he would if you’d let him. “can’t get enough.” he swallowed down the rest of your cum on his taste buds, the tangy taste lingering.

he had neglected his own body, too. he could feel the sticky pre-cum pooling in his boxers, cock twitching. his dick was begging him for attention, to at least grind on something, to let him bury himself inside you without a thought. his eyes were glassy, his stare magnetic and alluring. lighter’s hair was tousled and messy, his green eyes shining with arousal. it had you wishing he didn’t hide those pretty eyes away from the world, remembering that you’re lucky he still has them, even after all those black eyes and that horrible injury he sustained years ago.

he rose, settling himself differently between your thighs. your body was trembling, but your eyes conveyed full trust in him. you watched as he lifted off his own skin-tight undershirt, the scars along his body speckling his skin. the texture was different from his much softer skin, each with its own unique story. had he listened to you, maybe he wouldn’t have half of them. you still diligently kissed each one when you could, caressing his chest lovingly. his scars were never something he was ashamed of, just a reminder of reality, a reminder that the world isn't what it seems. you say they make him look sexy, so that isn’t half bad either.

the dog-tags around his neck jingled as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside with the rest of the clothes on the floor. he couldn’t be reminded to care, palming the prominent bulge in his pants instead. his face was red with lust, sweat dripping from his chest and beading around his hairline, soaking into his soft locks. lighter deftly unzipped his fly, reaching down into his boxers with a sultry drag of his fingers. he traced them down his lower abs, lower, lower…

you could see the outline of his hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers, eventually freeing his dick from its confines. his size never failed to take your breath away, lighter still had to break you in each time. years of fucking, yet you could never get fully used to his cock. he stroked it a few times with a heavy sigh, a noise he reserved for his time with you. “nobody one could get me hard like you,” he mused, “i don’t think i can get hard thinking about anyone that isn’t you at this point. you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

fuck, if that didn’t turn you on… you moaned, squirming and writhing in arousal, just from his honest thoughts. “lighter, take me. i don’t want anyone else’s dick, just yours.” your voice was strained, laden with burning hot need. you could feel the coil in your gut tighten with every one of his grunts. his voice was so sexy and deep, so smooth and soothing, soft when he wanted it to be.

“i thought you’d never ask,” lighter teased, collecting your wetness at the head of his cock, pushing in slightly with just the tip. you let out a whine, the sound throaty. you looked to him, who was already looking down at you with a loving smile. he pulled back out, the tip of his cock barely slid inside you. lighter’s hand came up to stabilize your leg at the hamstrings, the other aiding his cock inside with practiced ease. he winced in deep pleasure as your pussy graciously accepted his length, you were much wetter than usual too.

he couldn’t help but throw his head back after your cunt took the fattest part of his cock, burying himself to the base, his shaft coated in your wetness. “fuck, you want all of this?”

you gasped as he rocked his hips further into yours, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. you grit your teeth, jaw held tight as he pulled out slowly, dragging his hips out, before slamming back in. he took note of the lewd expression you made, jaw loosening as he fucked back into you, each thrust faster than the last, the pause in between shortening. you looked so hot like that, taking his dick just as you should. it’s got him realizing his love for you has grown even more over the years. it felt less like a trauma bond, blossoming into a deep and profound appreciation, an attraction that his brain can’t handle processing without short-circuiting a little bit. lighter’s expression mirrored yours, his face flushed, hair sticking to his face as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held it.

he had gradually increased his pace, the sound of skin against skin gradually getting louder. your bed started to rock against the wall, his hands grabbing the undersides of your thighs tightly. he didn’t dare to look away from you, from your eyes. your pussy was already an eyeful, getting all wet and tight like that, but fuck, the faces you made as you got close made him even harder. hard enough to dick you down into your mattress.

lighter hadn’t silenced you at all, matching your moans with fervor. his hips slammed against yours, groaning and huffing louder. his muscles were wound with the same tightness and tension as yours, your pussy getting unbearably tight with every shaky exhale. “come on, that’s it, lemme hear you. let me feel you come on me, i want you to cum on my dick. can you do that? fuck, fuck…”

his brows furrowed in concentration, his rhythmically rocking into you with a brutal force. the bed frame was squeaking and moving underneath you both, masked by the shared sounds of pleasure and sex. the intense pressure in your gut was rearing its head, coming to a climax, little babbles falling from your lips. “lighter, gonna— i’ll, fuck, ohh… fuck, fuck, lighter! lighter!”

your hips frantically pushed against his, beckoning him deeper, harder. with a particularly loud mewl, your back arched off the bed, wailing in pleasure as your climax washed over every tense muscle in your body. lighter didn’t stop, the pace maintained and ruthless as he chased his own orgasm. “yeah? yeah, just like that, you feel too fuckin’ good. think i’m gonna cum too.” a faint jingle could be heard in the heat of passion, the silver colored dog-tags dangling off his neck with each thrust. “take care of this pussy every time you want me, oh, fuck—”

his final words were strained with pleasure, his own body twitching as his balls drew up tight. he rutted his hips a few times in and out, fucking his cum into you with uncharacteristically deep and desperate moans. his hands shook, palms clammy and body quivering with the after effects of sex.

lighter leaned down to give you a tentative kiss, one akin to the first gift he ever gave you. it was slow, explorative, devoted. he leaned into your neck, nibbling on your ear affectionately, “how is that for a gift?”

“…good enough for me to reconsider our relationship.”

[1980shorrorfilm]

unadulterated yearning

click!!!

pairing…abby anderson x gn!reader

in which…a cruel patrol somehow brings you and your roommate closer together.

before you read…angst with comfort.

such few words have been spoken between you and abby, despite being in her presence a significant amount of the day— every single day. 

you weren’t sure what you did to warrant the hostility, and why it hasn’t fleeted within the few months of you replacing her prior roommate. you knew she missed him, abby made it abundantly clear she’d rather have manny back, but you knew her despising you ran deeper than just that.

her one-sided frustration was a lot. it hurt when all you did was grace her with overbearing kindness, to simply be mocked by the woman to her friends. her friends; she wouldn’t let you in the group, leaving you isolated and alone.

you wondered if she spoke behind your back, almost hoping that was the case when they’d give you the cold shoulder, like you had done something wrong. you never thought you did. abby made you feel that way, though. 

abby couldn’t seem to find a soft spot for you. all the good things about you, she took issue with, and she would let it be known each time. god forbid you fold a shirt she had thrown on your floor, or decide to do your shared dirty dishes, or open the door for her first. she always found a mistake, a flaw, she searched for it.

you couldn’t win with her. every single try has been a failure, and for some reason, that was a hard thing to accept.

it shouldn’t be— abigail anderson should have no fucking impact on your feelings. but she does, deeply, and right now, as you wake up early for a patrol you originally weren’t scheduled for, all you feel for her is resentment.

it’s entirely her fault, somehow getting her day switched with yours, so you get the shitty shift no one wanted.

you weren’t sure why until you were informed the wlf had some sort of get-together for the holidays, an excuse for a feast and drinks. and you would be excluded from it all, because better you than her, apparently. 

you tried not to mind it, truly, you weren’t a bitch about small things like this. if you were annoyed by every little thing abby had done, you might have given up this sanctuary just to be out of her presence utterly.

it’s simply her entitlement that troubles you, the fucking audacity.

“might wanna put on more gear. pretty cold out there,” her voice calls from the other side of the room, where she’s lying comfortably in bed with a book on her chest, eyeing you getting ready to leave. you scoff. 

“i’m serious,” she dares to add, though her tone lacks sincerity to you, “wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

“how thoughtful, abigail.”

she rolls her eyes at the use of her name, a small win for you.

those are the last words you tell her before taking off, leaving abby alone, and feeling alone. it’s odd. she likes when you’re around, to bother you, of course. the cool wind is harsh against the stadium window, a tinge of guilt already hitting her. 

but if she could praise you for anything, it’s how much you can endure. nothing here has been easy for you, and yet you’re still here. she pushes you, and you push back. you’d be fine, might even make it back for the last hour of celebrations, making patrol worth it for the sweet reward at the end of the harsh day.

abby was very wrong.

harsh was a kind word to put for the day you had.

the sun is down by the time you arrive back. you’re freezing and bleeding, having skipped the infirmary out of embarrassment. you didn’t want to be a letdown or a burden, especially if abby were to find out how poorly you performed out there; so you’d pretend today was fine.

at least, until you’re locked away safely in your bedroom. 

once you are, you turn on the light, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t known you were keeping in, leaning against the door just so you could stop walking for a split fucking second. that’s when you feel the throbbing on your thigh, eyes drifting to the now crimson-stained makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around it. 

you don’t have the energy to change it. you don’t even have the energy to change in general, only peeling off your jacket, and picking up whatever grey sweatshirt was thrown on the floor near you. 

you know it’s not yours when you smell the familiar pine scent, the one you associate with abby. 

weirdly, it’s incredibly comforting right now. even if she would scold you to not touch her shit when she got back. you really don’t care. you drag your sore feet to your bed, climbing beneath the covers, clinging to the blanket, begging for warmth that seems to refuse your body.

it’s moments later that you hear the door open.

abby enters, a bit buzzed from the party, tripping on your discarded jacket right away. she mutters beneath her breath, picking the piece of clothing up, and walking toward your bed. when she opens her mouth to speak again, it immediately shuts, and she halts her steps.

her gaze fell on you, huddled under your blanket, body shivering even in your sleep.

there’s a strange tug at her chest— both sympathy and guilt stirring deeply inside of her. you’re curled into yourself like a child, and you appear as innocent as one before her. innocent and in pain. left out from the festivities of the night, alone, out there, to come home, and be alone again. 

maybe it’s the alcohol, but abby feels like she’s suffering with you, simply by watching your body involuntarily shake.

“y/n?” abby calls out your name softly, closing the gap between her and your bed. you don’t stir at first, not until she repeats your name once more, but even then, you hardly acknowledge her. 

you hum, not daring to open your eyes and welcome the light to your corneas. 

“you okay?” abby asks, knowing it’s a stupid question with an obvious answer. you don’t think of it as stupid, though, it might be the kindest thing she’s done, checking in on you…are you dying?

“mhm,” you hum again, “just…cold.”

the words come out in an accidental whisper, unsure if she had even heard you. she does, not even questioning her next decision; she had the urge to help you, one she couldn’t shake off or ignore like in other moments where you could’ve used a hand. this is different. she doesn’t know why, but it is.

it’s just a few seconds later that abby had taken her blanket, the comforting weight of it being draped carefully over your body, abby doing her best to cover your head to toe. 

the long-going tension between you two doesn’t exist at the moment, abby’s sweet gesture becoming the highlight of this stupid fucking day. she had a heart. and she gave a tiny piece of it to you with the blanket. 

“thank you, abby,” your voice is still barely audible, but she catches it, nodding though you couldn’t see her. 

the room fell silent again, and abby wasn’t sure if she should walk away, or keep awkwardly watching you from the edge of your bed. 

she walks away; only after you stop shaking, soft breathing from your sleeping form. she wonders if it is weird she literally watched you sleep, but her concern is overbearing.

abby crawls into her bed, laying her head on her pillow, and shutting her eyes. your face is the last thing on her mind before drifting off, not the first time this has occurred, but the first time acknowledges it’s not due to the loathing she has felt for you. it’s something else.

the next morning, abby wakes up to the sunlight barely filtering through the window, eyes drifting to the lower half of her body. 

her blanket returned, along with yours, an additional warmth that has her dreading the idea of getting up.

especially when she notices you had already left the room, and you weren’t going to be the first face her eyes laid upon…fuck. abby gulps at her thoughts about you. 

these now, suddenly, extremely confusing, thoughts. what is this feeling?

[mejaemin]

헤어져 ( •̀ ᴗ •́ ) - pfu

wc: 1.5k

summary: pulling a “let’s break up” prank on bf!svt !! | pfu ver | hhu ver | vcu ver |

warnings: not proofread, breaking hearts UGH THEYRE TOO SOFT CUTIE FOR THIS I CANT, no real breakups, angst? kinda? not really? fear of breaking up, lmk if anything should fr be tagged

an: i lowkey hate how juju’s turned out … but it’s okay!!! i really wanted to get this done bc i found the req funny because just hearing the words “break up” reminds me of the kungkungdda video with atz yunho saying 헤어져… its lit been stuck in my head since the req came in

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

soonyoung

oh my love, he’d be so confused

you’re lucky the trend happens over text because if you did it in person and saw the pout on his face you’d give in right away !!!

he’s opening his phone after waking up in the morning, swiping his palm over his nose and the rest of his face before checking his notifications, when his heart drops

the first one, from you, saying “let’s talk” … quite ominous, no?

immediately he’s going to your house without asking to go and settle whatever he did right away.

you’ve already distracted yourself, staying busy with absolutely nothing while you leave your phone alone to build suspense. you nearly jump out of your socks when your front door starts wiggling, nearly falling out of the frame when it opens. turning around, you’re met with soonyoung, who’s extremely out of breath, clothes all mismatched as he stands in the doorway.

you rush over to him, “youngie, what are you-“

he cuts you off, grabbing you by your shoulders a little too roughly. his look is so intense yet anxious that he might put a dent in his forehead. “i’m really sorry. whatever i did, please forgive me. but you can’t- well you can, but- just please don’t break up with me, okay?”

immediately upon seeing his face, puffy from sleep and all wrinkled up in concern, you fold, taking him into your arms tightly. “oh soonie, i was joking, i promise.” you kiss his cheek, and his head turns so it lands on his lips. “you didn’t do anything, baby.”

he pulls his head back just enough to look in your eyes, eyebrow raised. “do you promise?”

with his cheeks between your palms you nod, pressing your lips to his forehead, holding them there to show you’re being genuine. “of course. i could never leave you, soonyoung.”

junhui

jun is always so quick to answer your text messages, leaving no time in between before answering you

clearly, when you send him a message saying “let’s break up”, his heart drops faster than it took for him to open the message.

immediately he’s sending a message, full of reassuring words.

“i’m so sorry that something happened to make you feel this way. i’ll be over shortly to talk about it, okay? hang tight, i’ll pick some stuff up on the way. just don’t give up, okay?”

you’re already regretting this at his words, feeling so much love for junhui and the way he takes you so seriously. he may be silly a lot of the time, but he handles serious moments so well. your heart genuinely hurts at the fact that he’s probably so worried right now, and all you’re doing is pranking him. when he gets here, you’ll make sure to give him relief.

there’s a knock on your door, and you rush to open it. junhui is standing there with a small bouquet of flowers and a bag with what appears to be snacks. “i know you might not be interested now, but here.. can we try fixing this?”

once you let him in he sets them down, and as soon as he turns around you’re taking his hands. immediately you’re confessing, seeing his unsure face. “juju.. i was joking. i saw people pranking on tiktok, and i-“

“ahh, i see. i was actually really scared just now.” he chuckles softly, cutting you off. “but forreal, it’s hard to tell tone over text. i’d rather you prank me like that in real life, okay?”

the anxiety fades away, and you’re both all smiles again. since he’s already with you, you sit down together for the rest of the night and spend it watching shows and eating what were supposed to be your break-up snacks.

minghao

we all know minghao’s heart is too tough for a prank as simple and common as this

of course, like anyone who’s madly on love, his heart will pick up at first, but he’s too observant!

you both established healthy methods to communicate the way you were feeling if something about the relationship made you uncomfortable, so when all these keywords and behaviors are suddenly thrown out the window his flags go up

you and him both take preserving the relationship and each other’s feelings seriously so you would never just say “i want to break up”

thus, he plays along

minghao is sitting across from you on the couch, reading a book when you call his name. he looks up, and when he hears you say you want to break up with him, an alarm goes off in his head. he closes the book and sits up straight, grabbing your hands to have a proper conversation.

“can i ask what makes you want to?” he’s so genuine, true concern in his eyes as he tries to hear you out.

you look in your lap, hiding your face while trying to keep up the theatrics. “i just.. don’t feel a spark anymore. i’m falling out of love.”

it’s that sentence that makes him realize what you’re doing. you both agreed that whenever a conversation of this scale occurs, you wouldn’t be vague about whatever you’re feeling. you’d communicate clearly, and make an effort to find a solution.

hiding his smirk, he nods, sighing heavily. “ah, okay. i understand. i’ll give you your space then.” he gets up, a solemn look on his face as he heads to your bedroom. as soon as his back is to you, he’s smirking, amused at the thought of waiting to see how long it’ll take before you crack.

clearly, it’s not long, because as soon as he shuts the door you’re up and running towards him. the door nearly breaks with how rushed you are at opening it, immediately crashing into him. “hao, oh my god, please, i was joking! don’t give me space, please, i don’t want it-“

he cuts you off, grabbing you by your chin to kiss you. “oh, i know, darling. i know every little thing about you, like what you do when you’re trying to trick me. now, let’s not do that again, okay? because i’ll gladly do it back.”

dino

just the idea of pranking chan in this way hurts your heart :(( he’s such a sweet boy !! however…

jeonghan waved quite the pretty penny in front of your face, claiming that it will be yours if you pull the prank on him.

you are very aware of chan being unable to catch a break when it comes to being pranked, but you could only pray that with this nice amount of money, he’ll understand

pulling the prank was definitely painful, though

you’re at an outing with chan and his brothers, hanging out at the porch of a getaway home with some of them. you’re by a fire, drinks in hand as you all chat. when chan notices that your cup is empty, he wordlessly takes it from you to go fill it.

as soon as he leaves, you feel a tap on your shoulder. turning your head, jeonghan is sitting next to you, waving his hand for you to lean in. “i’ll give you…” he digs into his pocket, finding nothing and then reaching into seungcheol’s, taking out a wad of cash and holding it in front of you. “this if you tell chan you want break up.”

immediately you’re looking at him with a bewildered look. why would you ever fumble the sweetest man in the world for money? he’s chuckling at your reaction, waving a hand dismissively. “all jokes, of course, but if you really get him i’ll give you all that. for real.”

jeonghan waves it in front of you once again, and you’ve seen how fat seungcheol’s wallet is. and a few of the digits on those bills were pretty large, so… chan will understand, right? maybe scaring him a little for all this will be worth it, right? you can go out together with your winnings…

you sigh, nodding your head. “fine. but if it ends bad, you’ll clean up the mess. and then i’ll kill you.” you smile, shaking his hand before turning to chan who finally returned.

he hands you your drink with a kids to your forehead before sitting down. “what were you guys talking about?” he’s smiling so sweetly at you, and it makes your heart literally hurt at what you’re about to do.

“chan, i think we should break up.” you’re almost grimacing at yourself, and at that sentence everyone around the fire stops talking. no way the couple who makes everyone believe in true love is about to split.

“um, what..? are you..” he can’t even finish his sentence, swallowing heavily as his vision almost starts shaking.

immediately, being unable to take the torture anymore, you turn to jeonghan, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. through many complaints, whining and yelling at the elder, you grab the aforementioned money from his pocket.

triumphantly you kiss chan on the lips, pulling away and showing him your new prize. “i’m so, so sorry, channie, truly i would never break up with you, but look what he offered! please say you understand…”

immediately your boyfriend relaxes, eyes narrowing as he looks at the man behind you. “watch your back, han. seriously. that money almost went towards my funeral funds, i swear.”

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[thef1diary]

I need ghost!max to start haunting my place…. Please… I’ll pay good money… bake ghost cookies… 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

BUT DI, that is giving freeuse kink and you know who’ll love that ? 👀 yeah yeah…. Dirtbag!daniel….

hear me out, when he realises that maybe there’s something more that triggers the jealousy and all, he’s looking for a way to have you all to himself for some time (you’d obv been fucking regularly but it’s not like you live at his place) AND WHAT BETTER EXCUSE than that??? Y’know…. You’ll NEED to spend the whole week at his place for him to use you like he wants to… AND HE DOES 👀👀

-🐱

— “bake ghost cookies” nonnie you make me laughhh 😭 but mhm dirtbag!danny would loveee free use kink 👀 it wouldn’t be hard to convince you at all, I mean a full week with the hottest guy, giving him the full authority to use you as he wishes? Hell yeah, where do I sign up? 18+ content below

It started with you coming over, a casual plan for the evening. But the moment you stepped through the door, Daniel had you pinned to the wall, his lips on your neck, his hands roaming like he couldn’t wait another second.

The plan to stay for a single night turned into two. Three. Then a full week. Neither of you could get enough of each other, so why would you leave? He wanted all of you, at any time of the day he desired, and you eagerly complied.

Your clothes? Gone. Tossed somewhere and never given back. At best, he let you wear one of his shirts—oversized and smelling like him, but with nothing underneath. Any time you walked through the house, he’d pull you into his lap, his hand sliding up your bare thighs with a smug grin.

“Gave in so quickly, hm?” He said one afternoon as you stood in the kitchen. “Why do you put up a facade for the world when you’re desperate to be my personal slut? Mine to use whenever I want, however I want.”

His grip tightened on your waist as he stood behind you, his words ticking your ear. “You’re here for me to use, sweetheart, and I don’t plan on wasting a single second.”

He made good on his word. Mornings started in various ways each day. Face down, ass up, your teeth buried in a pillow as he pounded into your wet pussy, groaning about how tight you were, how you were made for him.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his hand fisting in your hair to pull you up slightly. “So fucking perfect like this. You’ll never want anyone else after me, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

Or he’d have you on your knees, his cock heavy in your mouth as his hand guided your movements, controlling every inch you took. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his head falling back. “Taking me so fucking well. You like this, don’t you? Letting me ruin you before breakfast.”

Afternoons were no reprieve. He found any excuse to touch you, to take you. The couch, the counter, even the floor—every surface in his house bore witness to the way he unraveled you.

He dropped to his knees in the living room one day, devouring you like a man starving, his beard leaving marks on your thighs. “Can’t get enough of this pussy,” he groaned, his tongue flicking over your clit as his fingers worked you open. “Could spend every damn day buried here.”

By the time night fell, you were spent—but he wasn’t done. He’d pull you into bed, his body flush against yours, guiding your hips to sink down on his cock. “Just stay like this,” he murmured, his hands trailing up your sides. “Keep me warm for the night, maybe I’ll wake you up by fucking you, exactly how you like it.”

One hand lazily gripped your waist as the other toyed with you—pinching your nipples or rubbing slow, maddening circles over your clit while you were stretched around him.

By the end of the week, you were a wreck. Your body ached, your throat was hoarse, and your mind was a blur of pleasure and submission.

When he finally let you rest, he pulled you against his chest with a rare softness. “Don’t wanna hear about anyone else, got it? You’re mine. Always,” he murmured.

And lying there, his hand stroking lazily over your back, you realized you didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Maybe not ever. You were happy to be his personal slut, just like he said.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[cherrysurf]

Hello! I was maybe thinking to help with the writers block, that maybe you could do Katsuki helping the reader in the gym! (They don't actually know each other, but they were basically the only people in the gym and the reader, or Katsuki, needed a spotter) :]

Early morning gym session !

professional trainer!bakugou x f!reader

little ooc, yn is athletic but not super (kinda half proofread)

It was 4am when you decided to hit the gym before work, you liked waking up early to be prepared for the day and another thing about it was that there was hardly anyone at the gym during those hours, a few people here and there but that was it. The only downside to this was the fact that when you needed a spotter you couldn’t ask because of lack of people or the fact that everyone was in the zone doing their own thing. So here you are again at the gym it was 4:30am it was only you and maybe two other people as you were setting up the weights on the rack to do squats, you were trying to reach a new rep but you were hesitant just in case you couldn’t lift it backup and didn’t want to cause a severe injury on your back right before work, so you look around to see if anyone was taking a break between their sets so they could help you real quick, that’s when you see a tall spiky blonde man sitting on a bench wiping sweat off his face and drinking water, although he did look intimidating you had no other choice it was that or the group of grandmas on the tendmills you decided to suck it up and go ask him if he says no you’ll just stick to the same rep you can do by yourself. You slowly walked up to him. He was down looking at his phone with his headphones in black sleek beats just like yours but yours were blue. Then he saw a pair of shoes on the floor and looked up to see you awkwardly waved hi and pointed at your ears to signify that you wanted to say something, he took off his headphones and then said “what do you want?” in a monotone voice, “uhm i’m trying to reach a new rep but i need a spotter and i saw you were talking a break so i wanted to ask, but if you can’t that’s totally okay! i understand so you don’t need to worry about it or feel forced or anything” you said rambling “6 reps of 14 or i’m not doing it.” he said “what?” you say confused “6 reps of 14 or i'm not doing it. How do you expect to grow your glutes without a proper amount of reps?” he said almost in a snarky manner “mmh can i at least get a break in between?” you say “if you do them right. If not, you start over” he said. “Why did you ask him you” wondered annoyingly. “So why should I take your advice?” you questioned the man “because i’m a personal trainer and i know a lot more than you.” he added while taking a sip of his water “oh?” you say stunned “mhm so let’s get started before i don’t want to do this anymore.” he standing up you simply just turned around and walked to where you were while he followed behind—

the time he spent as your spotter was hell, filled with yelling about not squatting properly, how weak you were, how he squats twice as much, you were sweating so much you looked like how he looked when you approached him after it was done you laid down on the floor trying to catch your breath “that was nothing i don’t know why you are so dramatic clearly you’ve never trained properly.” he said laughing in a mocking way all you could do was roll your eyes from the lack of energy to fight him back. “So what's your name?” he says looking down at you “yn. you?” you responded heavily breathing “bakugou.” he said “i could train you if you want to get better” he continued on “no thanks i don’t want to pay for someone to yell at me” you say “free of charge for now. We go to the gym at the same time and I'll have you follow my daily routine just for a girl” he says, offering his hand to get you up, which you are shocked by how quickly he was able to get you off the ground with one hand. “free for now?” you asked confused, “think of it like a free trial if you’re not annoying and do the workouts right we can keep it free.” he shrugs “gimme your phone so i can put my number in” he said you comply handing him your phone and he returns it back before walking off “enjoy the rest of your measly work out see you tomorrow for a real workout.” he said going back to the area he was in leaving you shocked and outta breath ready to go home and shower thinking about how sore your going to be “maybe i should call out of work. I’m gonna have jelly legs.” you say groaning in annoyance.

the next couple of days of this new found routine helped you out a lot despite you coming home sore the first few days, you looked and felt better and noticed results faster than normal so one day after you and bakugou had finished the gym session you wanted to thank him, so as you both were walking out to leave and go your separate ways you stopped him “hey uhm i actually have something for you as a thank you gift but it’s in my car, would you mind if i go get it really quick.” you say nervously “we can just walk to your car so you don’t have to walk all the way back here” he said, “okay” you say as you both walked to your car it was awkward but that’s how it was if you and him were working out, you make it to your car to unlock it and pull out the gift basket with pre-workouts and a thank you car and some other gym essentials, his face was shocked at the sight of it all he rolled his eyes “you know you didn’t have to do this.” he said looking at you holding the gift basket “i know but you don’t charge me for lessons and they’ve been helping so it’s the least i can do.” you say looking at him. “Whatever, thank you I guess.” he said, taking the basket. “See you tomorrow don’t be late” he said walking off with his gift in hand, which made you smile to see that hint of amusement on his face from the gift. just as you were about to drive off you get a text from him saying “let’s go out to eat this weekend so i can tell you what you can eat for the the best results” he said which made you squeal like a little girl “okay sounds cool” you text back trying to be nonchalant but we’re really freaking out in real life excited for your little “date” with the cute boy from the gym.

a/n- thank you meeya for looking over it 😞🤞🏼, also ty darhina for requesting this? i rlly enjoyed writing it!!

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

It's okay, there are a lot of people to save right now. He'll get to you, you thought to yourself, as you tightened your hold on the railing of the now-destroyed balcony you were just barely hanging on to.

Katsuki was fighting one the villains with his blasts while Gale Force was saving people who had been hurt or stuck by the villains attack.

Your arms were in so much pain, but you had no way to propel your lower half up to try and leverage yourself into a more stable position so you were using all of your upper body strength to keep yourself wrapped around until he could get to you.

Soon the screams and cries around you dwindled, signifying their removal from any danger, leaving only you, thankfully. You waited and waited, but still no savior came. Then, your arms went numb.

No no no, this cannot be happening right now.

You could feel your grip starting to loosen up and you slipped, just by a couple of centimeters, but you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up much longer. You were solely focused on holding on, but it was getting so difficult. You closed your eyes and tried to tighten your grip as best you could, but the lack of feeling was making things a thousand times more difficult. It was either hold on or die.

Let go said an inner voice. You shook your head furiously with your eyes closed.

"Let go," the voice said again, "I've got you now, doll"

Oh, so it wasn't an inner voice.

You opened your eyes to see Katsuki pulling you into his own arms, making you gladly let go of your railing and hold onto him for dear life.

Your entire body was trembling. From the fear, the adrenaline, or potential nerve damage, you didn't know. You looked up at your savior, and your lover, to see his jaw was clenched tighter than usual as you guys were on your way to the medical tent.

Oh god, he's mad at you

"I-I'm sorry, Kats-"

"Don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong." He cuts you off, but still clearly angry. You rested your head on his chest for the rest of the way, and when he set you down on the ground, he grabbed your arms to inspect them.

"You're going to have insane amounts of bruising from having to hold on so tightly for so long, " he spoke through gritted teeth, before waving a medic over to evaluate you further.

Once they gave him the okay that the bruising would be the worst of the damage, he took you back into him arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently. More gently than you've ever heard him speak before.

You nodded, just as gently, feeling his gloved hand caress your cheek and wiping away tears that you didn't even realize had been running down your face the entire time.

Suddenly, he turned around and stomped his way over to Gale Force, who was just about to give him a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well-done, when Katsuki wound back his fist and punched him so hard, you'd think he'd been launched by a catapult with how far back he flew.

Everyone around was shocked by the punch, but some around looked like they understood why it happened. Meanwhile, you were just watching the scene before you unfold with nothing but utter confusion.

"Next time make sure everyone has been saved before you stand on the sidelines, flexing for girls," Katsuki screamed at him, while pointing towards you. His voice filled with more than just his usual anger, but also the fear and worry he had felt about possibly losing you.

It was then you understood, that while you knew their roles were Katsuki battled and Gale Force rescued, the wind rescuer neglected to do his. That's why Katsuki was so angry. Why his jaw was clenched after he got to you. You'd been abandoned by his mission partner.

Gale Force looked over at you and stuttered out a poor excuse for an apology, but you didn't care. You just wanted Katsuki to hold you and go home, which he surprisingly did.

"Don't you have to do paper-paperwork on this before you can go ho-home?" you asked, still struggling with your speech as you try to process the nerves now that you're safe.

"That fucker can deal with it, if he knows what's good for him," he grumbled, as he flew you back home to the cozy apartment you shared.

You were still trembling when you arrived, and he didn't dare put you down until you were both inside with the door locked and he lovingly placed you on the big cloud couch in your living room before turning on the TV and passing you the remote before making his way to the kitchen. The angry clanking sounds coming from that direction had you more preoccupied than whatever was showing on the big screen until you heard his name.

Uh-oh! Looks like there's trouble in paradise between Pro Heros: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight and Gale Force, as they worked together on today's big take down/rescue mission as villains attacked several buildings in the downtown area. While Dynamight had taken on the role of battling and capturing the villains, Gale Force used his winds to propel himself rapidly between crumbling buildings and catch those innocents affected by the villainous destruction!

Katsuki appeared behind you and placed a plate on your lap, consisting of cut-up apples and pears as well as a simple ham and cheese sandwich. You shakily brought an apple slice to your mouth and he sat beside you as the newsanchor continued.

However, it seems that Gale Force's radar may have been a bit...defective as there was still one person left hanging, quite literally! Luckily for her, Dynamight was able to quickly assess the situation with the utmost precision and got to her before her poor limbs gave out. Here is a video of the immediate after effects of the rescue:

*The video shows you and Katsuki from a few feet away, Katsuki checking your arms, calling the medic over while Gale Force is laughing with a group of girls about who-knows-what. It was odd seeing it from a third-person point-of-view. Then, without realizing the camera was there, Katsuki sent the guy flying, screaming the same words you had witnessed before*

What do you think, folks? Was Dynamight in the right here? Do you think Gale Force deserved that mean hook on behalf of this young lady-oh, wait a moment! I'm being given some additional information. It seems that the young lady who was rescued by Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was none other than his lover! Oh man, I definitely wouldn't want to be on the other end of that punch with that being the case.

"Bastard's lucky I didn't blow him to pieces," he muttered as he grabbed another apple slice from your plate before his phone rang, startling you both.

"Dynamight," he answered and you heard a familiar voice on the other side.

Hawks

He got up and went back to the kitchen, probably to discuss the issue privately

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't lose my cool on television if that fucking airbender wasn't such a goddamn liability. He's getting sloppy, Hawks, we all know this and today it almost cost me the love of my life. Something has to be done"

It made your already-racing heart flutter even more to hear him call you that. It wasn't like you didn't already know, but he doesn't express it verbally very often. His love language was more acts of service and physical affection and while you wouldn't change the for the world, hearing him talk to someone about his love for you was mind-blowing.

You turned back to the screen to see he had changed the channel before he left to one of your favorites, the cartoon channel, which he thought was super corny but humored you anyway.

After about 20 minutes, he came back and sat beside you once again, this time resting his hand on your thigh where the plate used to be. It now sat on the coffee table in front of you where he reached for the last apple slice you left him, he looked over at your arms, seeing the bruises already forming.

"Are you in any pain?"

You shook your head. You just felt some soreness, nothing crazy, and you didn't want to worry him any more than he already was. It would probably feel worse later but some ice on it should be fine if it even got to that point.

What you wanted more than anything was to lie down, so that's exactly what you did. You rested your head on his lap and he caressed your hair as you both sat in silence, watching the little animated animals on the tv sing and dance their little hearts out until you fell asleep.

After several hours, you awoke with a jump. Something was...wrong. You felt like you were on fire. More specifically, your arms felt like they were igniting from the inside. You didn't know what time it was or how Katsuki ended up lying down with you without waking you, but you couldn't think of it for long because of the awful burning. You wiggled out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom to try and run some cold water over your arms to help the feeling but it wouldn't stop. You were trying to even your breathing and as your eyes adjusted to the light, you analyzed your arms to see they bruising had become pitch black, reflecting the amount of strength it had taken you to hold yourself up for as long as you did.

The cold water wasn't helping and the fear wasn't making the pain any better. You tried not to break down in tears but god, it was so painful. The most painful thing you've ever felt. You closed your eyes for just a moment while you tried to think of what else you could do, when you heard the faucet turn off and felt strong arms grab yours firmly, but gently. You opened your tear-filled eyes and saw Katsuki's focused ones on your arms, gently tracing them before seeing his hands begin to glow.

Heat, you realized and your eyes widened in fear as you pulled away.

"Hey," he said gently as we grabbed your chin to look at him, "I'm not gonna hurt you. The heat will relax your muscles and ease the pain, I promise."

You stared into his eyes for any sense of deceit, or doubt, and could find none so you just nodded. Anything for some relief.

Again, his hands began to glow as he grabbed yours and began to massage them gently. At first, the pressure did cause a bit of stinging but then the fire started to settle. He used his thumbs to massage circles up and down your forearms where it was at its worst, and you could feel the tension lessen.

You didn't realize you had been holding your breath until you let out a shakey one and then burst out sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and held you until you had no more left to cry, from the pain, from the fear of everything that happened today, from the thought that you would never see him again.

He then picked you up and took you to the bedroom and layed with you, continuing to massage your arms until you both fell asleep.

"I'll always take care of you," he whispered as your minded faded to dreams.

And he did, the entire rest of the week, he stayed home massaging your arms, feeding you, helping you bathe, doing everything for you until you were recovered enough that you were practically pushing him out the door and be the hero he is to people besides you.

[rootedinrevisions]

A Holiday to Remember

SUMMARY: When plans with your family fall through, an unexpected invitation leads you to spending Christmas with Glen - and his lively, close-knit family. You find yourself swept up in the warmth of holiday traditions and the undeniable pull of a connection you never saw coming. Between stolen moments under twinkling lights and whispered confessions, the boundaries of friendship blur, leaving you to wonder if this Christmas could be the start of something extraordinary or just a fleeting holiday dream.

A/N: So I was hoping to have this out before or on Christmas but then I got writer's block and struggled to finish it. And then I got inspiration...maybe too much inspiration. I watched Anyone But You and then a couple Hallmark movies so this definitely has a rom-com/cheesy Hallmark vibe to it. That's also why this is so long because as I was watching those movies I got ideas for moments to add to the story. But hopefully you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: Some light cursing, maybe? Otherwise I don't think there's any warnings. Just 17k words of cute fluffy wholesomeness.

WORD COUNT: 17.5k (I got a little carried away with this one.)

TAGS: In Comments

The warm glow of string lights hung delicately along the restaurant's windows, casting a cozy hue on the bustling Los Angeles sidewalk. You took a deep breath, smoothing your sweater as you stepped inside, the gentle hum of conversation and clinking glasses enveloping you.

Approaching the host stand, you offered a polite smile. "Hi, I’m here for Glen Powell’s reservation."

The host, a young woman with a sleek bob and a professional smile, glanced at her list before nodding. "Of course. Right this way." She grabbed a menu and gestured for you to follow her through the dimly lit dining room.

As you weaved between tables, your nerves fluttered faintly, though you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like this was anything new—just dinner with Glen. Something you’d done dozens of times.

The host led you to a table tucked in the back corner, offering a little more privacy from the busy main floor. Glen spotted you almost immediately. He set his phone down and stood up, his familiar, easy grin spreading across his face as he opened his arms.

“There she is,” he said warmly, pulling you into a hug as soon as you reached him. His cologne—a blend of something woodsy and clean—wrapped around you, as comforting as the embrace itself.

“Sorry I’m late,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling back. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

He waved off your apology as you both sat down, his smile never faltering. “You’re in L.A.—isn’t traffic always a nightmare?” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Besides, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

The way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long made your stomach flutter, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside. It was Glen, your friend. Nothing more.

You picked up the menu and skimmed over the options, even though you weren’t really focusing on the words. Glen sat across from you, flipping his own menu open but still managing to glance your way every few moments.

“So,” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “How’s the movie coming along? Are you still filming, or are you finally getting some time to breathe?”

Glen chuckled softly, setting the menu down as he leaned back in his chair. “We wrapped a few days ago, actually. Post-production is in full swing now, so it’s out of my hands now. Now I can take a break and get some normalcy.”

“Normalcy,” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “For you, that probably means jetting off somewhere, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Okay, maybe my version of ‘normal’ is a little skewed. But I’m just going back to Austin for a few days. Nothing too crazy. What about you? How’s work? Are they letting you off the hook at all this holiday season?”

You sighed, your eyes drifting back to the menu as you tried to keep your voice light. “It’s fine. Busy, as always. But I guess that’s better than having nothing to do, right?”

He frowned slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you squirm just a little. “You sure you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’m good. It’s just—work has been hectic, and I haven’t really had time to think about the holidays.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re not going home for Christmas.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It’s just… complicated,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “My family’s so far away, and with work, I just couldn’t make the timing work. So, yeah, I’ll be here this year. But it’s not a big deal.”

Glen’s jaw tightened, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “You’re spending Christmas alone?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ll survive.”

“No way,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “That’s not happening.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden intensity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re coming with me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “To Texas. You can’t spend Christmas alone—that’s just… wrong.”

“Glen,” you began, already shaking your head. “I can’t just crash your family’s holiday. That’s not fair to them—or to you.”

“They’d love you,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And it’s not crashing if you’re invited. Which you are. Officially. Come on, what’s holding you back?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the way he was looking at you—earnest, determined, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer—made the words catch in your throat.

“It’s just a couple of days,” he added, his voice softening now. “And I promise, it’ll be fun. Think of it as an adventure.”

You hesitated, your resolve wavering under the weight of his sincerity. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.

“Glen, I can’t just pack up and leave,” you said, trying to keep your tone firm. “I only have a couple of days off for the holiday, and—”

“Perfect,” he interrupted with a grin. “I’m only staying three days anyway. We’ll head out the morning of the 23rd, and we’ll be back by the 26th.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not that simple. Do you know how expensive last-minute flights are right now? Not to mention the hassle of even finding one—everything’s probably booked solid.”

His grin didn’t falter. “I’ll help you find a flight. Hell, I’ll even cover it if that’s what’s holding you back.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Glen, no. You’re not paying for my ticket.”

“Why not? Consider it my Christmas gift to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t just offered something outrageous.

You scoffed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m resourceful,” he corrected, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And if it really comes down to it, I’ll fly you there myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “Now that seems like a gross misuse of your pilot’s license.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but his determination was starting to chip away at your defenses. “Glen, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to intrude on your family’s holiday. It’s their time with you, and I’d just be—”

“A welcome guest,” he cut in, his voice softer now. “Trust me, they’d love to have you there. My mom’s been asking when she’s going to meet my mysterious ‘friend’ I talk about anyway. This is the perfect chance.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked away, suddenly very interested in the pattern on your napkin. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he urged, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. “It’ll be fun. You’ll get to relax, eat some great food, and experience the chaos that is my family at Christmas. What do you have to lose?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let this go. “What about the fact that I’ll probably end up sharing a room with one of your nieces or sleeping on the couch? Not exactly my idea of a restful holiday.”

“Wrong again,” he said with a triumphant grin. “We will be staying at my place. I have plenty of space. I’ll even take the couch if you want the nice bed.”

You laughed despite yourself, the mental image of Glen curled up on his own couch making it impossible to stay serious. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re running out of excuses,” he pointed out, his grin widening. “So? What’s it going to be?”

You hesitated, your gaze meeting his. There was something in his eyes—an openness, a genuine warmth—that made it hard to say no.

“Fine,” you said finally, throwing your hands up in defeat. “You win. I’ll go.”

His face lit up, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“You’d better be right,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

* * * * *

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow across the Austin skyline as Glen navigated the bustling city streets, the hum of his truck filling the comfortable silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the vibrant murals and quirky storefronts that zipped past. Normally, you’d be chatting nonstop, asking Glen a million questions about the city or teasing him about his questionable playlist choices. But now, your hands fidgeted in your lap, and your lips pressed into a thin line, your mind elsewhere.

“You’re kind of quiet over there. You’ve said about five words since we got here,” Glen remarked, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. He glanced at you briefly, his brows furrowing in concern before turning his attention back to the road. “That’s gotta be some kind of record for you.”

You blinked, his comment pulling you from your thoughts. Turning to face him, you tried to muster a small smile. “Sorry. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Glen didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh,” he said, his tone skeptical. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with meeting my family, would it?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat. “Maybe a little.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Relax! You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know. They’re going to love you. I’m the one they’re stuck with, remember?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, but the sound was short-lived. “It’s not that I’m worried they won’t like me,” you admitted. “It’s just... I don’t know. What if I say something dumb? Or trip over the Christmas tree? Or—”

“Hey,” Glen interrupted, his voice gentle. At a red light, he reached over and placed a warm hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking this. My family’s not expecting perfection, okay? They’re just excited to meet the person I’ve been talking about nonstop for the last couple of months.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve been talking about me?”

Glen grinned, the light turning green as he started driving again. “Obviously. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t brag about how great you are?” He paused, then added with a teasing smirk, “Although I may have left out the part where you can’t handle spicy food. Don’t let my mom’s salsa scare you off, alright?”

That earned a genuine laugh from you, and Glen shot you a quick, satisfied look before turning his attention back to the road.

As the city gave way to sprawling suburbs and then the open, winding roads on the edge of Austin, Glen’s demeanor remained steady—calm, reassuring, and lighthearted. He pointed out landmarks along the way, sharing stories about his time growing up in the area and cracking jokes to pull you out of your nervous headspace.

“You doing okay over there?” he asked after a while, glancing at you again.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Putting up with you?” Glen repeated, feigning offense. “You think I invited you out here because I had to? Please.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. Before you could dwell on it too much, Glen reached over to nudge your shoulder playfully. 

“Seriously, relax,” he said with a grin. “You’ll fit right in. And if anyone gives you a hard time, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You smiled at that, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly. Glen had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when your own thoughts tried to convince you otherwise.

When he finally pulled into the gravel driveway of his house, nestled on a quiet piece of land just outside the city, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Glen parked the truck and turned to you with an encouraging smile.

“Alright,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “First stop: my place. Let’s drop off your stuff and then we’ll head over to my parents’ house. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath as you climbed out of the truck. “Sounds good.”

Glen led the way up the front porch steps, his boots thudding lightly against the wood. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you enter first.

“Welcome to Casa de Glen,” he said with a grin, sweeping his arm theatrically as you stepped inside.

The interior was exactly what you’d imagined—a perfect blend of cozy and modern. Warm wood floors stretched throughout the open-concept space, and the living room featured a large leather couch and a stone fireplace that was clearly the centerpiece of the room. A framed poster of Top Gun: Maverick hung on one wall, balanced by shelves filled with books, photos, and a few sports trophies.

“Wow,” you said, taking it all in. “It’s nice. It feels... you.”

“That’s what I was going for,” he said, closing the door behind you. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He guided you through the living room and into the kitchen, which was sleek and modern with stainless steel appliances and a large island in the center. “This is where the magic happens,” he said, patting the countertop. “By magic, I mean reheating leftovers and making the occasional breakfast taco.”

You laughed, running your hand along the cool stone of the counter. “Very impressive.”

He pointed out a small office that doubled as a gym, then led you to the back door, which opened onto a sprawling patio overlooking a modest backyard. Twinkling string lights were strung across the patio, and a firepit sat off to the side, surrounded by chairs.

“This is great,” you said, stepping out onto the patio and taking in the peaceful view.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Glen admitted, leaning against the doorframe. “If you need to escape the chaos over the next few days, feel free to sneak out here.”

The offer warmed your heart, but before you could respond, Glen pushed off the doorframe and motioned back inside. “Come on, let’s get your bags upstairs.”

He carried your suitcase up the staircase, which was adorned with simple but tasteful decorations—a mix of family photos, framed movie posters, and a few awards he’d picked up over the years. At the top of the stairs, he turned to the left and opened a door.

“This is the guest room,” he said, stepping aside to let you enter.

The room was cozy, with a plush queen-sized bed covered in a navy-blue comforter, a small desk by the window, and a few decorative touches that made it feel welcoming—a basket of rolled-up blankets, a lamp with a warm glow, and a stack of books on the nightstand.

“This is nice,” you said, setting your carry-on bag down by the bed.

“I figured you’d want your own space,” Glen said, setting your suitcase by the desk. “Bathroom’s just down the hall, and there are extra towels in the closet if you need them.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, before giving you a small smile. “Alright, let me show you the rest of the upstairs.”

You followed him back out into the hall, where he pointed out the bathroom and a smaller guest room that had been converted into a second office. Finally, he led you to the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

“And this is where the magic really happens,” he joked, pushing open the door to reveal a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a sliding door that led to a private balcony.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You and your magic. I’m starting to think you have a pretty loose definition of the word.”

“Hey, I have my moments,” he said with a wink.

He led you back downstairs, where the tour ended in the living room. “Alright, that’s the grand tour,” he said, clapping his hands together. “What do you think?”

“It’s great,” you said honestly. “It feels very...you. Like even if I didn’t know this was your house I could see you fitting in here.”

And you meant it. You’d been to Glen’s place in Los Angeles before. And it was comfortable and fine enough. But it felt more like a bachelor pad. But this house here in Austin felt like him. It felt like home.

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “I’m glad you like it. Now, you ready to meet the chaos that is my family?”

Your stomach flipped nervously, but Glen’s easy smile was enough to settle you. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said.

“Perfect,” he said, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Let’s do this.”

*****

The truck rumbled to a stop in front of the charming two-story house, its exterior painted a warm cream color with dark green shutters. Wreaths adorned the windows, and strings of twinkling lights outlined the roof, giving it a postcard-worthy holiday glow. Glen shifted the truck into park, but before he could even cut the engine, the front door burst open, and a wave of people spilled out onto the porch.

“Here we go,” Glen muttered with a grin, glancing at you. “Brace yourself.”

Your heart raced as his mom was the first to step forward, her arms already open as she made her way down the steps. Cyndy Powell was the picture of warmth, her hair perfectly styled, and her face glowing with excitement. Behind her, Glen’s dad, Glen Sr., stood with an easygoing smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His sisters weren’t far behind—Leslie, the youngest, bounced on her toes with a wide grin, while Lauren, the oldest, followed at a more measured pace, one hand gripping the tiny hand of Glen’s nephew. Glen’s niece trailed behind, clinging to Lauren’s husband.

“Glen!” Cyndy called, waving both hands like she hadn’t seen her son in years, even though he’d assured you it had only been a couple of weeks.

You opened your door cautiously as Glen hopped out of the truck, meeting his mom halfway with a hug. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

Cyndy pulled back just enough to cup his face. “You look too thin,” she said, making him laugh. “Are you eating?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Glen assured her, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You hesitated for half a second before stepping out of the truck, suddenly feeling like every pair of eyes was on you. Cyndy’s expression shifted immediately to one of pure delight as she made a beeline for you.

“And you must be the one Glen keeps telling us about!” she said, pulling you into a hug before you could even respond. “Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Cyndy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” you managed, your voice slightly muffled by the hug. “It’s really nice to meet you, too.”

“Oh, please, call me Cyndy,” she insisted, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re even prettier than Glen said.”

“Mom,” Glen groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he came to stand beside you.

“What?” Cyndy said innocently before ushering you both toward the rest of the group. “Come on, everyone’s dying to meet her.”

One by one, you were introduced—Glen Sr., who gave you a firm handshake and a kind smile; Leslie, who immediately wrapped you in a hug and declared you were “way too cool to be hanging out with Glen”; Lauren, who gave you a warm smile and said she’d heard so much about you; and finally, Lauren’s twins, who peeked out from behind their dad shyly until Glen crouched down to scoop them up in a playful hug.

“Alright, alright,” Glen said, standing with a twin on each hip as he turned back to his family. “Let her breathe, would you? She’s not used to all this chaos.”

“Chaos?” Cyndy said, feigning offense. “This is love, Glen. Pure holiday love.”

You laughed, but Glen caught the way your shoulders tensed, and he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. “You okay?” he asked softly, his tone just for you.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s just... a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’ll run interference if I have to.”

Before you could respond, Cyndy was ushering everyone inside, rattling off questions about the drive and insisting you must be starving after traveling all day. You followed the group into the house, which was every bit as welcoming as its exterior—soft, cozy furniture, a roaring fire in the living room, and the scent of something sweet wafting from the kitchen.

You shrugged out of your coat and Glen stepped closer, his hands brushing against your shoulders as he helped slide it off. The gesture was so natural, so easy, that it sent a little flutter through your chest.

“Here, I’ll take that.” His voice was casual, but the faint smile he gave you as he carefully hung your coat on the rack was anything but.

As he turned back to you, Cyndy leaned in with a knowing smile, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “He’s been so excited to bring you home. You should’ve heard him talk about it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, your cheeks warming as her words sank in. “Oh,” you managed, a little breathless.

Cyndy’s hand lingered on your arm for just a moment, her expression soft with unmistakable affection. “You’ll see,” she added with a wink, before stepping away to call to her husband about something in the kitchen.

When you turned back to Glen, he was watching you, his head tilted slightly. “What was that about?” he asked, his tone light but his curiosity clear.

“Oh, nothing,” you said quickly, trying to wave it off. But you couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at your lips—or the slight flush from creeping up your neck.

Glen’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Uh-huh. Sure.” He didn’t push, though, instead gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s grab something to drink before everyone starts peppering you with questions.”

The moment lingered as you followed him into the house, Cyndy’s words echoing in your mind. The idea of Glen talking about you—being excited to bring you here—was hard to shake. Maybe it was just his family’s charm, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that stayed on your face as Glen led the way.

* * * * *

With a steaming mug of cocoa warming your hands, you smiled politely as Glen's mom chatted animatedly about the Powell family Christmas traditions. You nodded along, but the flurry of introductions and the cozy chaos of his family had you feeling a little overwhelmed. Sensing your chance for a breather, you leaned toward Glen.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you murmured, setting your mug down on the counter.

He shot you a curious look but nodded, letting you slip away.

You wandered down the hall, grateful for the moment to collect yourself. After freshening up in the restroom, you made your way back toward the kitchen, but you stopped short as voices drifted toward you from the other side of the doorway.

“...she’s adorable, Glen. Seriously,” one of his sisters—Lauren, you thought—said with a teasing lilt.

“And you brought her home for Christmas?” Leslie chimed in, her voice lilting with mock surprise.

Glen groaned, and you could practically hear him rubbing his hand over his face. “Guys, come on. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” Lauren said, drawing the word out like she didn’t believe him for a second. “Just friends, and yet you insisted she come here instead of spending Christmas alone. Sounds like something a boyfriend would do, don’t you think, Les?”

“Definitely boyfriend behavior,” Leslie agreed, clearly enjoying herself.

“You two are impossible,” Glen muttered, though his tone carried more amusement than frustration. “I didn’t want her to spend the holidays alone, okay?”

Your breath caught at his words, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Sure, sure,” Lauren said, her tone sly. “But just so you know, Mom’s already planning the wedding.”

Glen let out a sharp laugh. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. Let’s dial it back a little, huh? She’s nervous enough as it is without you two scaring her off.”

You took a step back, considering whether to linger a moment longer, but the sound of chairs scraping against the floor signaled that Glen’s sisters were on the move. Quickly, you stepped into the doorway, pretending you hadn’t heard a thing.

“Oh, there she is,” Leslie said with a grin as she and Lauren passed you.

Glen leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his brow lifting as you stepped inside. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and genuine.

You nodded, though your gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than you intended. “Yeah, just needed a minute. Your family’s really nice, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “They’re a handful, but they mean well.”

You walked over to retrieve your cocoa, the rich chocolate aroma grounding you. “They seem really excited to have everyone together.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of their thing,” Glen said, watching you closely. “What about you? You hanging in there?”

You shrugged lightly, a small smile playing at your lips. “It’s a lot, but… in a good way. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a big family like this.”

Glen straightened, stepping closer so his arm brushed against yours. “Well, they already love you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. His grin widened, but before he could say more, his mom’s voice rang out from the living room, calling for him to help bring in the extra chairs for dinner.

He sighed dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “Duty calls,” he said, but his hand lightly touched your arm as he passed. “Don’t let them rope you into anything too crazy while I’m gone.”

You smiled, watching as he left the room. Something about being here—with him—felt unexpectedly right.

* * * * *

The kitchen buzzed with activity as Glen’s mom and sisters dove into dinner preparations. The smell of roasted turkey and fresh-baked rolls filled the air, making your stomach rumble despite the cocoa you’d just finished. Cyndy was meticulously checking the oven temperature, while Lauren and Leslie were chopping vegetables at the kitchen island.

“Need any help?” you asked hesitantly, stepping further into the room.

Lauren glanced up with a warm smile. “You’re sweet to offer, but trust me, this kitchen is already at max capacity.”

“Speak for yourself,” Leslie said, pointing her knife toward the pile of unpeeled carrots. “Here, grab a peeler. You can help me out before Mom has a meltdown over the timing.”

Cyndy turned from the oven, mock-offended. “I heard that!”

Leslie just smirked as she handed you a peeler and a couple of carrots. “Ignore her. She loves when we tease her. Keeps things interesting.”

You laughed softly and settled in next to Leslie, grateful for something to do with your hands.

“So, how are you holding up?” Leslie asked after a moment, her voice quieter, more personal.

You glanced at her, surprised by the question. “Oh, um… good, I think. Your family’s been really welcoming.”

“We’re loud, though,” Lauren chimed in, pausing her slicing to grin at you. “Hopefully Glen warned you about that.”

“It’s a good kind of loud,” you said honestly, feeling more at ease with them. “I’m just… not used to it, I guess.”

Leslie nudged you lightly with her elbow. “Well, if you can survive the Powell family Christmas chaos, you’re pretty much invincible.”

“Noted,” you said with a laugh, peeling another carrot.

Lauren tilted her head, studying you curiously. “So, how did you and Glen meet, anyway?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the doorway like Glen might walk in and save you. “We met through mutual friends,” you said carefully. “It’s kind of a long story, but we just… clicked, I guess.”

Leslie smirked, clearly enjoying the topic. “Clicked, huh? Like, just friends clicked? Or ‘maybe there’s something more’ clicked?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you focused intently on the carrot in your hand. “Definitely just friends,” you said quickly, your voice a little too firm.

“Hmm,” Lauren said, exchanging a look with Leslie.

Before they could press further, Glen walked in, carrying a couple of folding chairs from the garage. He stopped short when he noticed the three of you huddled together.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he set the chairs against the wall.

“Nothing,” Lauren said, her voice entirely too innocent.

Leslie shrugged. “Just getting to know your friend.”

Glen sighed, giving his sisters a pointed look before turning to you. “Don’t let them gang up on you. They’re relentless once they get started.”

“I think I’m holding my own,” you said with a small smile, though you were grateful for his presence.

“Good,” Glen said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Because dinner’s almost ready, and if they scare you off before dessert, Mom’s going to kill them.”

The laughter that followed eased the lingering tension, and for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt like you were starting to find your footing amidst the whirlwind of the Powell family.

“Alright,” Cyndy said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get everything to the table before it gets cold.”

The dining room table was a feast for the senses. Platters of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables were arranged in the center, surrounded by bowls of cranberry sauce, rolls, and casseroles. Soft holiday music played in the background, and the warm glow of the chandelier added to the cozy atmosphere.

You found yourself seated between Glen and Lauren, while the twins took turns giggling and sneaking bites of their food despite their mom’s warnings to “at least wait for everyone to get their plate.”

The conversation started casually, with everyone complimenting Cyndy’s cooking and trading jokes about who had eaten the most last Christmas. It wasn’t long before the table was buzzing with overlapping chatter and bursts of laughter.

“So, what’s everyone’s plans for New Year’s?” Lauren asked as she helped her daughter cut her turkey into smaller pieces.

“Will and I are thinking of taking the kids to the park downtown for the fireworks,” Lauren said. “What about you, Glen?”

Glen shrugged, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “Haven’t decided yet. Depends on if this one’s dragging me somewhere” He nudged your shoulder with a playful grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not dragging you to anything. You keep inviting yourself to my plans.”

“Semantics,” he quipped, earning a chuckle from Leslie.

Cyndy, ever the gracious host, leaned toward you with a warm smile. “So, what do you usually do for the holidays with your family?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. “Well, when I can make it home, we usually have a quiet Christmas. Just my parents and my siblings. Lots of food, games, and, uh, my mom’s famous fudge.”

“That sounds lovely,” Cyndy said, her tone genuine. “You’ll have to share the fudge recipe sometime. Maybe we’ll add it to our dessert rotation next year.”

“I’d love to,” you said, feeling a little more at ease.

Throughout dinner, Glen made sure to keep you involved in the conversation, throwing in lighthearted jokes and even sharing an embarrassing story from high school that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember when Glen tried to sing karaoke at the Christmas talent show?” Leslie said, her face lighting up with glee.

“Oh, no,” Glen groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lauren jumped in. “He thought he could hit the high notes in ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You.’ Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.”

The table erupted in laughter, and even you couldn’t hold back a giggle. Glen peeked at you through his fingers, feigning betrayal.

“Sorry,” you said between laughs. “But I need to hear this someday.”

“Not happening,” Glen said firmly, shaking his head.

By the time dessert was served—a towering plate of Cyndy’s homemade pecan pie—you were full, content, and starting to see why Glen loved spending the holidays here so much.

After dinner, the energy in the house began to settle. The twins had all but fallen asleep at the table, and Lauren and her husband said their goodbyes, bundling their sleepy children into coats before heading out for the night.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Lauren said, pulling you into a warm hug. “You did great tonight. Don’t let these guys scare you off.” She winked, glancing briefly at Glen.

With the house quieter, you, Glen, and Leslie remained behind to spend a little more time with his parents. Cyndy brought out another round of cocoa, insisting on adding an extra dollop of whipped cream for everyone.

The fire in the living room had burned low, but Glen Sr. stoked it back to life, filling the room with a warm glow. You took a seat on the couch near the hearth, your fingers curling around the mug of cocoa as you soaked in the comforting crackle of the flames.

The warmth of the fire helped, but the Texas winter chill still lingered, and you found yourself shivering slightly as you sipped your drink.

Glen, sitting in an armchair nearby, noticed immediately. Without a word, he stood and grabbed a thick, soft blanket draped over the back of the couch. Crossing the room, he carefully draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a moment to ensure it was snug around you.

“Better?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, your heart warming at the small, thoughtful gesture. “Much better. Thank you.”

Instead of returning to his chair, Glen sat down beside you on the couch, the corner of the blanket brushing against his arm as he stretched out. The closeness was both comforting and a little distracting, the ease of his presence pulling you further into the moment.

Across the room, Cyndy and Glen Sr. shared a knowing look, their quiet conversation halting as they observed the two of you. Leslie, seated in the armchair Glen had vacated, leaned over to whisper something to her mom, her expression amused.

Glen Sr. gave a subtle shake of his head, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch, though his tone held a hint of playful exasperation.

The whispers and exchanged glances didn’t go unnoticed by Glen, who shot his sister a pointed look. “You guys good over there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally,” Leslie replied, a little too quickly, her smile innocent in a way that wasn’t fooling anyone. “Just enjoying the show.”

You glanced between them, confused. “What show?”

“Nothing!” Cyndy said quickly, her tone light but clearly trying to steer the conversation away. “It’s just nice to see Glen bringing a friend home for the holidays.”

You felt your cheeks warm under her gaze, and Glen let out a small sigh, clearly used to his family’s antics.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Leslie smirked but didn’t push further, and Cyndy changed the subject to talk about the Powell family’s Christmas morning traditions.

The room was dimly lit, the fire crackling softly in the background. The evening had settle dinto a quiet calm, with Glen sitting on the couch, his arm stretched across the backrest. Despite your best efforts to stay engaged in the chatter between Glen and his family, your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.

Cyndy and Leslie paused mid conversation when they noticed you were asleep. Your breathing was slow and even, your head nestled against Glen like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a look, both already grinning.

“She’s so sweet,” Cyndy whispered, her voice barely above the crackling of the fire.

“And you’re adorable together,” Leslie added, leaning closer to her mom as if she were sharing a juicy secret.

Glen’s eyes flicked toward them, his lips tugging into a faint, knowing smirk. “We’re just friends,” he said, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing you.

Leslie arched a brow. “Sure, you are,” she teased, crossing her arms. “Because friends totally look at each other like that.”

“What are you even talking about?” Glen asked, rolling his eyes, though his free hand instinctively adjusted the blanket draped over you, tucking it more securely around your shoulders. You stirred slightly, leaning into him more, and his arm moved without hesitation, wrapping lightly around you to keep you comfortable.

“Like that,” Leslie said pointedly, gesturing at him with a playful smirk.

Cyndy’s eyes were full of warmth as she added, “Leslie’s right, honey. It’s the way you look at her. Like she’s the only person in the room.”

Glen sighed, running a hand through your hair but careful not to jostle you. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to you as you slept peacefully against him. “Probably more than I should have.”

Leslie’s teasing grin shifted into genuine curiosity. “So what’s stopping you?”

“It’s not the right time,” Glen said, his voice low but thoughtful. “My schedule’s insane. The next six to eight months are booked solid with filming, press tours… I’d barely be around. Starting something with her when I know I don’t have the time to make it work or for it to be healthy? It doesn’t feel fair to her. Or to me.”

Cyndy tilted her head, her brows furrowed slightly. “But you’ve managed to keep your friendship going despite all that. You both make time for each other. If you were dating, it wouldn’t be that much different, would it?”

Leslie chimed in, “Exactly. You’ve already proven that you make her a priority, even with everything you’ve got going on. If you really like her—and it’s obvious you do—why not take the chance?”

Glen glanced down at you again, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow across your peaceful face. His arm tightened just slightly around you, as if the thought of letting you go, even metaphorically, was too hard to bear.

He didn’t respond right away, the weight of his family’s words settling in as he watched you. Maybe they had a point. But taking that leap still felt like a mountain he wasn’t sure he could climb—at least not yet.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice soft and a little distant.

Leslie opened her mouth, ready to press him further, but Cyndy gave her a gentle nudge and a pointed look. “Let it go, Leslie,” she said quietly. “He’ll figure it out when he’s ready.”

As they turned to leave the room, Cyndy glanced back at Glen one more time, her expression full of motherly understanding. Glen caught her look, gave her a small, grateful nod, and then shifted slightly to settle more comfortably against the couch, his arm still securely around you.

For now, he decided, this moment was enough.

The warmth of the fire flickered softly, casting golden light across the room. Between the gentle crackle of the logs and the soothing rhythm of your breathing, Glen found himself starting to relax in a way he hadn’t in weeks. Your head rested against his shoulder, and the weight of it, combined with the soft rise and fall of your chest, brought an unexpected sense of peace.

Glen shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you, but the movement only made you nestle closer, your arm brushing against his. He glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. The firelight danced in his eyes as his mind wandered, replaying his mom and Leslie’s words.

She’s sweet.

You’re adorable together.

What’s stopping you?

His gaze lingered on you, and a soft sigh escaped him. He knew what they meant. Knew how easy it would be to let himself fall. Maybe he already had.

The fire crackled again, pulling him from his thoughts. The room was growing quieter, the warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, the comfort of the moment proved too much.

It wasn’t long before Glen’s breathing matched yours, slow and steady, his chin dipping slightly toward his chest as sleep overtook him. The two of you sat there, heads close, his arm still loosely draped around you while the blanket kept you both warm.

Some time later, Cyndy padded softly into the living room, a smile spreading across her face as she took in the scene. You were still tucked against Glen, your hand now resting lightly against his chest. Glen’s head leaned toward yours, his features relaxed in a way only sleep could bring.

Cyndy stood there for a moment, her heart warming at the sight. She grabbed another blanket from the linen closet and approached quietly, careful not to wake either of you. With practiced ease, she draped it gently over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before stepping back.

She turned to the fireplace, stoking the remaining embers and making sure it was safely extinguished. The room dimmed as she turned off the lights, leaving only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains.

Before heading to bed, she paused once more, her gaze softening as she looked back at the two of you. A small, knowing smile played on her lips as she shook her head lightly, then whispered to herself, “Just friends, huh?”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and Glen to rest peacefully in the quiet glow of the night.

*****

The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow across the living room. Glen stirred, his body shifting slightly against the couch cushion as he blinked groggily, trying to orient himself. His eyes felt heavy, and for a moment, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so warm.

He shifted again, feeling something—or rather, someone—pressed against him. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Looking down, he saw you curled into his side, your front pressed snugly against his chest, your legs tangled with his. One blanket was wrapped around you, tucked in as though you’d done it instinctively, and another—one he didn’t even remember grabbing—covered both of you. His arm was draped protectively around you, his hand resting lightly against your back.

Your breath was warm against his neck, soft and even, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat where your chest touched his. The realization sent a jolt of awareness through him. How had this happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting upright, with you asleep on his shoulder.

He let his head fall back onto the couch for a moment, exhaling slowly as he tried to make sense of it. Well, this is... comfortable, he thought wryly, though he couldn’t deny the quiet peace that came with waking up next to you.

As his brain started to wake up, he rubbed at his eyes, his other arm instinctively tightening around you as you shifted slightly in your sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out.

The sound of soft footsteps made him glance toward the archway leading to the kitchen. His parents stood there, his mom holding a coffee mug while his dad held the morning paper.

Cyndy stopped mid-step when she saw the two of you, her lips curling into a knowing smile she didn’t even try to hide. Glen groaned quietly, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he looked up at them.

His dad raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, good morning,” his dad said, his tone amused. “Sleep well, son?”

Cyndy swatted his dad lightly on the arm but didn’t say anything, her smile widening as she looked between Glen and you.

Glen cleared his throat, his voice low and rough from sleep. “Morning,” he muttered, trying not to move too much and wake you.

Cyndy stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You looked so peaceful last night. I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” she said, her gaze warm and teasing.

Glen gave her a look, half-exasperated and half-grateful. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured dryly, though there was no heat in his words.

“You should probably wake her before the others come down,” his dad added with a chuckle, nodding toward the stairs. “Don’t want to give Leslie too much ammunition.”

Glen sighed, his eyes flicking back to you. You were still sound asleep, your face relaxed and peaceful against him. His dad wasn’t wrong—Leslie would have a field day if she saw this.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it,” he said quietly, shifting slightly to try and rouse you without startling you.

Cyndy leaned closer to her husband as they turned to head back to the kitchen, her voice just loud enough for Glen to catch. “I think they’re adorable,” she whispered.

Glen groaned again, though he couldn’t quite hide the small smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, still nestled against him.

Glen sighed softly and glanced down at you, his heart doing an odd little flip at the sight of you so peaceful against him. For a moment, he hesitated, not wanting to disturb you. You looked so content, your face relaxed and framed by a strand of hair that had fallen loose.

But his dad was right—he needed to wake you before anyone else saw this and started making jokes he’d never live down.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. He shifted slightly, his hand moving to lightly brush against your shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

You stirred faintly but didn’t open your eyes, your brows furrowing as you shifted closer, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The movement sent a wave of warmth rushing through him, and for a split second, he froze, unsure how to handle the sudden closeness.

“Come on,” he tried again, his voice soft and laced with a hint of amusement now. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”

This time, you let out a soft hum of protest, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, “Five more minutes...”

Glen couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Come on, you need to wake up before the others come downstairs.”

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, and it took you a moment to register where you were. When you finally looked up at him, still half-asleep, your cheeks flushed as the realization hit.

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice hoarse with sleep. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glen cut in quickly, his tone reassuring.

Your eyes dropped to where his arm was still draped around you, and you slowly began to sit up, the blanket falling away as you shifted. Glen helped, his hand steadying you as you moved, though he couldn’t quite hide the slight reluctance he felt at the loss of warmth.

“I, uh... hope I wasn’t too heavy,” you said, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to smooth it down.

Glen smirked, leaning back against the couch. “You’re fine. But you do steal blankets, apparently,” he teased, motioning to the second blanket draped over him.

You blinked, confused, then looked down at the blanket and frowned. “Wait, where did that even come from?”

“Mom,” he said simply, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “She came in last night and covered us up. I think she wanted to make sure we didn’t freeze to death.”

Your cheeks reddened further, and you groaned softly, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh, great. So your mom saw us like that?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, reaching out to tug your hands away from your face, his smile softening. “She thought it was cute. So did Dad, for the record.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at your lips now.

Glen watched you for a moment before standing and stretching, his hand running through his hair as he glanced toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he said, offering you a hand. “Let’s get some coffee before Leslie sees us and decides to turn this into a running joke for the next decade.”

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he pulled you to your feet. His touch lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before he led the way toward the kitchen.

As you and Glen walked into the kitchen, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee hit you, immediately comforting in the way that only mornings at someone else's home could be. His parents were already seated at the island, sipping their own coffee, looking up with warm smiles as you entered.

“Good morning, you two,” his dad, Glen Sr., greeted with a grin, his voice low and warm.

“Morning,” you replied softly, moving to grab a mug from the cabinet. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, shot you a look, an almost mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice friendly, yet filled with a knowing edge.

You nodded, your face flushing again as you took a seat next to Glen. “Yeah, I did. Thanks for the extra blanket.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t have you freezing to death in here.” She paused, her eyes flicking between you and Glen for a moment. “Though, I must say, it was nice to see you both so cozy last night.”

Glen let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head. “Mom, please.”

You chuckled softly, looking over at him, your hand wrapped around your mug of coffee. “It’s fine,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”

His dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’re lucky. I don’t see Glen like that much.”

“I bet,” you responded, teasing, taking a sip of your coffee. “I wouldn’t have guessed he’s such a softy.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cyndy said with a wink, earning a playful nudge from her husband.

Glen rolled his eyes, then leaned back against the counter, his eyes flicking to you. “So, I was thinking we should head back to my place in a bit,” he said, casually stirring his coffee. “We’ll change clothes, then I’ll bring you back here. Sound good?”

You nodded, sipping your coffee again, grateful for the warmth in your hands. “That sounds perfect.”

Leslie walked in at that moment, still wearing her pajamas, her eyes narrowing in on you and Glen still in the clothes you had on yesterday. “Did you guys sleep here last night?”

Glen groaned again, clearly not ready for another round of teasing. “Leslie, please, not now.”

But Leslie was already grinning, turning to their parents. “They fell asleep and slept on the couch, didn’t they?”

“Mind your own business,” Glen said, his voice half-amused, half-annoyed, as he stood up from the counter. He shot a glance at you, his expression softening. “Alright, let’s go grab some things from my place.

As you and Glen walked toward the door, you could hear Leslie's voice rise from the kitchen, her tone laced with playful teasing.

"I mean, it’s so obvious," she said, her voice carrying easily to where you both were standing.

"I heard that, Leslie!" he called out, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Knock it off."

Leslie’s laugh echoed from the kitchen, followed by a muffled comment you couldn’t quite make out, though you were sure it was another jab at him.

Glen rolled his eyes and shook his head, but there was a softness to his expression when he looked at you. "Sorry about that," he said, his tone light. "She’s relentless."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth in your chest at how natural this all felt. "It’s fine," you said, chuckling.

He held the door open for you, letting you step out first, his hand brushing against yours as you passed. The drive back to his place was quiet at first, the hum of the engine and the soft sounds of music on the radio filling the space between you. You found yourself glancing out the window, watching the suburbs of Austin pass by as the sun began to rise higher, casting a golden glow over everything.

Glen’s hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping lightly in rhythm with the beat of the song. Every now and then, he’d sneak a glance at you, a slight smile curling on his lips as if something was playing in his mind. You caught him once or twice, but neither of you said much, content to simply exist in the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

Finally, as you turned onto the street leading to his place, Glen broke the silence, his voice low but warm.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, glancing over at you, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “You’re not regretting agreeing to spend the holidays with my family, are you?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s been… nice. Really nice, actually.”

He gave a small, satisfied nod, then pulled into the driveway of his house. As he parked, you both sat there for a moment, the truck gently rocking as the engine turned off.

As you both entered the house, the familiar warmth wrapped around you, making you feel at ease. Glen led the way toward the stairs, his movements easy, casual—like nothing had changed. But you couldn't ignore the shift, the quiet tension that seemed to have settled between you after spending the night curled up together. It wasn’t awkward, not exactly, but it was different. You both seemed a little more aware of each other than before.

"Bathroom's upstairs," Glen said, breaking the silence as he gestured to the staircase. "You can use the guest bathroom, and I'll take the one in my room."

You nodded, following him up the stairs. The house was quiet now, the early morning stillness hanging in the air. When you reached the top, you stopped briefly in front of the guest room. Glen was a few steps ahead of you, but you caught the way his gaze flickered to you for just a moment. His eyes lingered, and you felt the weight of it—the subtle shift you’d both sensed. He quickly looked away, his lips curling into a casual smile, but it wasn’t the same as before. There was something unspoken now, something you couldn’t quite name.

"Alright," Glen said, his voice a little softer than usual. "I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit. Take your time."

You hesitated for a second, feeling the strange pull between you, but nodded and stepped into the guest room. The door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, you just stood there, the silence pressing in. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just different. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, that quiet shift in the air, the one that had somehow made the space between you seem just a little smaller.

You shook your head, trying to push away the sudden thoughts swirling in your mind. This was still Glen—your friend. Nothing had changed, right?

But as you started to get ready for your shower, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had.

The hot water helped clear your head, and you focused on the simple task of washing off the sleep from your body. The shower was quick, just a few minutes of cleansing and letting the steam fill the space, but you didn’t want to take too long. Glen was probably already waiting, and you didn’t want to leave him hanging. You turned off the water, stepping out and grabbing the towel from the hook.

As you dried off, you realized your mistake. Your clothes were still in the guest room, neatly folded on the bed. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, assuming you’d just grab them when you finished. You sighed quietly to yourself, wrapping the towel securely around you, careful not to let it slip.

You checked yourself in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything was in place. Satisfied, you opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, glancing toward the guest room. It felt strange walking across the house like this—towel-clad, with nothing but the soft padding of your bare feet on the floor to accompany you.

You moved as quickly as you could, trying not to draw attention to yourself, but the slight breeze of the air made you acutely aware of just how vulnerable you felt in the moment. When you reached the guest room, you took a quick glance down the hallway, just in case, before slipping inside and closing the door behind you.

You quickly pulled on the clothes you had set out, opting for something comfortable but still presentable. After slipping on a soft sweater and a pair of jeans, you grabbed the brush and ran it through your damp hair. You added a little product, hoping it would hold up for the day, but you didn’t want to stress too much about it. After all, you were just heading downstairs with Glen—nothing too formal.

You took a deep breath and made your way toward the door, hoping the day would continue as smoothly as possible. But as you stepped out of the guest room, you nearly collided with Glen. He was just emerging from his room, his shirt still in his hand, his chest and abs exposed in the moment before he pulled it on. His muscles were defined, his skin still warm from the shower, and you found your gaze involuntarily drifting down for just a moment.

You quickly snapped your eyes away, trying to ignore the rush of heat that flushed your face. You gave a nervous smile, your heart thudding in your chest, and practically rushed past him. Your steps were quick, almost too quick as you hurried down the stairs, praying to some higher power that Glen hadn’t noticed your lingering glance.

The sound of his footsteps following behind you reassured you that he wasn’t focusing on the moment. You let out a quiet breath, hoping you could push the moment from your mind and keep everything normal.

"So, what do you think? Want to hang out here for a bit? Enjoy the quiet before we head back to the chaos?" he asked, his voice casual, but there was an unspoken invitation in his words.

You glanced toward the living room. The cozy, inviting space was practically calling out to you. The thought of staying here, just the two of you, no teasing, no distractions. The idea of getting alone time with Glen was tempting.

But as you stood there, a tug of guilt gnawed at you. You could already picture Glen, laughing and joking with his family, enjoying moments that he didn’t get to have often due to his hectic schedule. He didn’t get much time with them, and you knew that all too well. The last thing you wanted to do was take him away from that, especially when you knew how much he cherished it.

You had more time with him than they did. You saw him regularly, had long conversations over coffee, shared lazy afternoons together on his days off. They were lucky to have him home, and you didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on these rare moments.

The thought of staying here, just the two of you, was appealing, yes—but not at the expense of his family. You didn’t want to be selfish. They didn’t have the luxury of seeing him every day, and you knew that if you stayed, it would be taking away from that time they had.

Finally, you shook your head slightly, offering him a small, apologetic smile. "I think I’d rather head back over," you said, trying to push aside the selfish urge to keep him all to yourself. "You don’t get to see them much, and I don’t want to take that away from you." With a final glance at the quiet room around you, you gave Glen a small smile. "Shall we?" you asked, your voice light, trying to push the lingering tension aside.

He nodded, his smile softening, understanding exactly what you meant. "Yeah, let’s go."

As you followed him to the door, the weight of the quiet moments you shared earlier in the day seemed to hang in the air, but there was something comforting in it. A subtle shift, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on but couldn’t ignore either.

The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, and the drive back to his parents' house was peaceful, the car filled only with the sound of the engine and the faint rustling of the wind. You both had your own thoughts, but the comfortable silence made it feel like there was no need to fill the space.

When you pulled up to the house again, the familiar warmth of the lights shining from the windows seemed inviting. Glen turned to you before you opened the door, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Thanks for letting me have so much time with them" he said quietly, his voice sincere. "I appreciate you understanding."

You smiled at him, a quiet understanding between you that didn’t need words. "Of course, I know how important they are to you," you replied, giving him a look that was just as much reassurance as it was a soft acknowledgment of the unspoken bond you shared. And with that, the two of you stepped out of the car, ready to head back inside, where the sounds of family laughter awaited.

* * * * *

The warm scent of cookies filled the kitchen as you worked alongside Cyndy, Lauren, and Leslie, mixing dough and rolling it into perfect little balls. The rhythm of your hands, the soft scrape of the spatula against the bowl, was comforting. The kitchen was a cozy flurry of flour, sugar, and laughter.

As you moved the dough onto the baking sheets, the sounds of laughter echoed from the living room. Glen’s voice was unmistakable, full of warmth and joy, accompanied by the high-pitched giggles of the twins. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping you as you glanced up.

“Seems like he’s a fun uncle,” you commented, rolling the dough into another ball.

Cyndy and Leslie shared a knowing look before Leslie grinned. "Oh, he’s the favorite uncle, hands down," she said, shaking her head with a teasing smile. “I mean, he’s practically a big kid himself when they’re around.”

You laughed, imagining Glen’s easygoing nature blending perfectly with the chaos and energy of his niece and nephew. It was clear that they adored him.

Lauren continued, her tone light and affectionate. “I think the twins might actually think of him as their second dad sometimes. He spoils them rotten."

After a few moments, Glen appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear, his hair a bit messy from wrestling with the twins. His cheeks were flushed from the fun, but as soon as his eyes found the cooling rack of freshly baked cookies, he couldn’t resist. He made his way toward it, trying to sneak a cookie without anyone noticing.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you saw his move. You grabbed the spatula from the counter and, with a quick swipe, playfully swatted at him.

“Don’t even think about it,” you teased, but before you could even get close, Glen’s hand shot out to grab your wrist, stopping the spatula mid-air.

He chuckled, his grip gentle but firm, his fingers brushing against your skin in the briefest of moments. His gaze locked with yours, and for a second, the playful banter seemed to fade as the space between you both felt charged with something a little different.

“Really?” Glen raised an eyebrow, his voice soft with amusement.

You laughed, trying to pull your wrist free, but his hand stayed in place, still holding you with a steady but warm grip. “They aren’t ready yet,” you said, laughing as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

The laughter from Cyndy and Leslie behind you broke the moment, and you both turned, noticing their amused expressions.

“Are we interrupting something?” Cyndy asked with a teasing smile.

Leslie, barely containing a grin, raised an eyebrow. “You two are really cute together, you know that?”

You shot her a playful glare, but Glen gave a sheepish chuckle, releasing your wrist and straightening up. “We're just friends,” he said with a lighthearted shrug, though the hint of something unspoken lingered in his tone. “But I am taking one of these cookies.”

Before you could respond, Glen grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack with a victorious grin. You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation as he happily bit into the cookie, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a knowing glance, but neither said anything else, letting the moment hang in the air between you two, filled with warmth and an undeniable connection.

Lauren gave Glen a mischievous grin and, without warning, tossed a small pinch of flour in his direction. The flour puffed up in the air, and Glen let out a surprised laugh, his hands immediately going to his hair and face to brush it away.

“Hey!” Glen laughed, glancing around at the chaos unfolding. “You’re going down for that!”

In an instant, the flour fight was on. Leslie, quick on the draw, took the opportunity to sprinkle flour over Glen’s shoulder. He retaliated with a handful of flour that he flung in her direction, his aim slightly off, hitting the edge of the counter instead. You couldn't help but laugh, your hands covered in flour as you tried to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Glen shot you a playful look, and before you could duck out of his reach, he tossed a small pinch of flour at you. It landed right on your nose, and you gasped in mock horror.

“Oh, it's on now,” you said, wiping at your nose. “You’re going to pay for that one.”

The kitchen erupted in more laughter as flour and frosting flew between the family members, and before long, the "fight" ended just as quickly as it started, with everyone covered in flour and sugar but still grinning from ear to ear.

You went to wipe the frosting off your cheek, but as your finger brushed over it, you only seemed to smear it further. Glen, watching you with a teasing smile, leaned in slightly, his gaze softening as he shook his head. “You’re just making it worse.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Got a better idea?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just reached for the kitchen towel. His fingers brushed against your chin as he gently took your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle. His thumb carefully wiped away the frosting from your cheek, and you held your breath, caught in the moment, his touch gentle and thoughtful.

“There,” Glen said softly, his eyes still focused on your face. “All better.”

You met his gaze for a moment, feeling something stir inside you. His hand lingered just a little longer than necessary before he dropped it to his side, giving you a sheepish smile.

Glen’s mom, Cyndy, appeared in the doorway, holding a broom in one hand and a Swiffer in the other. She surveyed the flour-coated kitchen with an amused smile, shaking her head at the mess.

“Start cleaning this up, Glen,” she said with a grin, holding out the broom to him.

Glen, still wiping frosting from his hands, gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, his voice teasing as he took the broom from her with a sigh.

Cyndy smiled and turned back to the counter, the familiar, easy banter filling the air. “I swear, uou start a food fight every time we bake cookies around here.”

“Hey, I didn’t start it. I was just defending myself,” Glen shot back, sweeping a pile of flour into the dustpan with care.

You glanced over at Glen, a grin tugging at your lips. It was hard not to notice how much he resembled his mom in that moment—easygoing, playful, and always the one tasked with cleaning up after the fun.

“Don’t look so smug, you’ve got your own work to do,” he teased, gesturing at the counter where the remaining cookie dough sat ready to be rolled.

You just laughed and walked over to help Cyndy and Leslie, trying to distract yourself from the small, fleeting moment you’d just shared with Glen.

The kitchen felt warm with laughter and good company as you all continued to work together, and for a moment, everything seemed perfectly in place. Glen was hard at work, and you were right where you wanted to be—with the people who mattered most to him, helping make new memories.

After the cookies were finished and the kitchen was tidied up, the festive energy of the day shifted to the living room, where the Christmas tree stood, waiting to be transformed. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, had made it clear—no tree decorating until everyone, including Glen was home. So, even though Christmas Eve had arrived, the tree still sat untouched, its branches bare, twinkling lights tangled in a mess of cords.

You and Glen made your way to the storage tote, ready to tackle the daunting task of untangling the lights. Glen grinned as he opened the lid, revealing the well-loved decorations inside. "Every year, this takes longer than it should," he muttered, already pulling out a jumble of strings.

"At least you’re here to help now," you teased, grabbing a section of lights and trying to work through the knots. "I’m sure your family appreciates that."

Glen shot you a playful look as he started to untangle his own section. "Yeah, yeah, they know I’m the official light untangler. No one else can be trusted with this responsibility."

You both worked together, your laughter and conversation mixing with the sounds of his sisters in the living room. Cyndy and Leslie were busy sorting through the assortment of ornaments, laying them out in neat piles to be hung on the tree. The occasional clink of glass and soft chatter filled the space as they talked about the best places to hang each ornament.

The mood was lighthearted, and there was a cozy comfort in the room as the tree slowly started to take shape. You glanced over at Glen, catching the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes as he struggled with a particularly stubborn knot.

"Need help there?" you asked with a smirk, leaning closer.

"Nope, I’ve got it," he replied, his voice teasing but also faintly apologetic. "I’m a professional at this by now."

As he worked on the tangled mess, you couldn’t help but notice how the sight of him—focused and determined, yet still making light of the situation—made your heart flutter in a way that was different from before. You shook it off quickly, telling yourself it was just the holiday spirit getting to you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggling with knots and wires, the lights were untangled. You plugged them in to make sure they worked, and sure enough, the tree lit up with a soft glow, casting a warm, comforting light on the room.

Cyndy clapped her hands together with excitement. "Alright, now the fun part! Everyone grab an ornament, let’s make this tree sparkle."

Glen’s sisters eagerly began pulling their favorite ornaments from the piles, each one carefully examined before being placed on the branches. Glen handed you an ornament with a small grin. "I think this one’s for you," he said, handing you a glass star ornament that had a delicate silver shimmer.

As the tree filled with decorations, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the moment. It was peaceful and festive, and even with the occasional playful jab from one of Glen’s sisters, you couldn’t deny that it felt right.

Glen stepped back for a moment, surveying the tree as the last few ornaments were added. He gave you a soft smile, and you both exchanged a quiet moment before returning to finish the final touches.

As the final ornaments were being placed, the room seemed to hum with festive energy. The tree was almost done, with the soft glow of the lights reflecting off the glass baubles and tinsel. You stepped back to admire the view when Cyndy, holding the delicate star topper, made her way toward you.

"Here," she said with a warm smile, holding it out to you. "I think you should be the one to put the star on top. After all, you're the special guest this year."

You immediately felt a slight panic. "Oh, no, no, someone in the family should do it," you said, shaking your head, trying to pass the ornament back to her. "This is your tradition."

But Cyndy, always insistent, simply raised an eyebrow and gave you a playful smile. "You’re part of the family now," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Before you could protest any further, Cyndy shot a glance over at Glen, who was leaning casually against the wall, watching with a smile. "Glen, help her up."

Glen’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he moved toward you. "You heard her," he teased, holding out a hand. "Up you go."

You gave him an incredulous look, but there was no backing out now. Glen bent down slightly, motioning for you to climb onto his shoulders. With a deep breath, you carefully moved onto his broad shoulders. Glen straightened up, your legs now on either side of his neck, and you were perched on his shoulders, a little wobbly at first, but he steadied you easily.

"Alright, ready?" he asked, his voice close to your ear, making you feel a little more unsteady than you had been just moments ago.

You nodded, and Glen slowly straightened his back, lifting you higher so you could reach the top of the tree.

With his support, you leaned over carefully, stretching just enough to place the star on top of the tree. You could feel his arms beneath your legs, his grip steady as he held you in place. As you aligned the cord with the top strand of lights, the star clicked into place, and the top of the tree lit up with a soft, radiant glow.

The room seemed to pause for a moment, everyone looking up at the tree as the star twinkled brightly, casting a warm glow over the entire room. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride and contentment as you admired the result.

"Perfect," Cyndy said, her voice filled with approval. "It’s beautiful."

As Glen slowly lowered you back to the ground, his hands slid to your waist, steadying you as you regained your footing. You both stood there for a moment, a shared silence settling over you as you looked up at the tree. The lights glowed softly, casting a gentle warmth over the room, and the star at the top shone brilliantly.

The atmosphere was calm, peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest as you stood close to Glen, the warmth of his hands still lingering on your hips. It wasn’t anything overt, just a quiet moment where the connection between the two of you felt more real than ever. The world around you seemed to fade away for a second, leaving only the soft hum of the Christmas tree lights and the quiet of the room.

You both stood there for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. The only sounds were the soft crackle of the fire in the background and the distant laughter from the others. And then, without warning, Glen seemed to notice the looks from the corner of his eye. Leslie and Lauren were standing at the other side of the room, their eyes fixed on the two of you, their smiles too knowing for Glen’s liking.

Caught in the moment, Glen quickly pulled his hands from your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin just enough to send a small shiver down your spine. He cleared his throat and turned toward the others, trying to act nonchalant.

“Alright, alright,” he said, chuckling awkwardly.

Leslie grinned and gave him a playful wink, but it was Lauren’s knowing smile that lingered in your mind. You and Glen shared a fleeting glance before you both turned to rejoin the others, the moment still hanging between you two.

* * * * *

Later that evening, after the lively chaos of dinner had settled, you found yourself stepping out onto the deck of Glen’s house. The crisp air of the winter evening wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, a cup of warm tea cradled in your hands. The steam curled up into the cool night, and the soft hum of the distant streetlights was the only sound you could hear. It was a peaceful contrast to the laughter and chatter that had filled the house earlier, and you welcomed the solitude.

As you sipped from your cup, your thoughts drifted back to the night’s events. Glen’s family had been warm and welcoming, and though you could see how much they all cared for him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Cyndy had spoken earlier. It lingered in your mind, that softness in her eyes when she spoke of how much happier Glen seemed since you arrived. It made your chest feel tight, both in a comforting and nerve-wracking way.

The door behind you creaked open, and you turned just as Glen stepped onto the deck. He moved toward you with that familiar easy stride of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. For a moment, he stood beside you, silent, just taking in the night air with you. The way the soft glow of the house lights reflected off his features made him seem almost impossibly handsome in the moment.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, as if he knew that his family’s energy could be overwhelming at times. “I know they can be a lot.”

You offered him a soft smile and took another sip of tea, the warmth of the cup soothing against your palms. “I’m enjoying myself, really,” you assured him. “Your family’s great. It’s just... nice to have a little peace and quiet for a moment after everything today, you know?”

Glen gave a small, understanding nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. The comfortable silence stretched between you both, but then, as if on cue, a gust of cool air swept across the deck. You couldn’t help but shiver slightly, the chill catching you off guard.

Before you could react, you felt a warmth at your shoulders. Glen’s arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer to him, the solid feel of his presence comforting against the cool night. His touch, the gentle weight of his arm around you, made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. It felt natural, like he was just trying to make sure you were okay—but there was something else there, something unspoken that hummed beneath the surface.

For a brief moment, you thought he might lean in, maybe say something that would break the quiet tension between you. But he didn’t. He just stood there, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, but not close enough to cross that invisible line.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence where two people simply existed in each other’s presence, the world around them fading away. Still, something about the stillness between you and Glen made you aware of the subtle shift in the air. You glanced up at him, catching the thoughtful, almost distant expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. There was something in his demeanor that made you wonder if something was on his mind, maybe something he wasn’t sharing. He seemed more serious now, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet vulnerability you couldn’t quite place.

Glen turned his head to look at you, blinking as if he had been lost in thought, and then he let out a low chuckle, brushing it off. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice light but guarded, as if the answer to your question was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to share.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin curling on your lips. “Try me.”

His gaze flickered to yours, and for a second, you could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. It was a small thing, but it was there—a brief moment of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a deep breath. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking out at the dark sky, the stars twinkling above.

“I’m just…” He trailed off, then ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. Just... thinking about how much things have changed recently.” Glen sighed again, letting out a breath like he was releasing something heavy. “I guess... it’s just been a lot. Work, family... and now you. It’s all good stuff, but it’s a lot to juggle sometimes, you know?” He paused, his words becoming slower as if he were processing something in real-time. “I don’t want to mess things up. With my family, with you...”

The air between you and Glen felt thick with unspoken things, so you did the only thing that felt natural. You shifted slightly, closing the space between you until you were pressed against his chest. Instantly, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you rested your head just beneath his chin, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you.

For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought you might’ve felt something—something soft and sweet, maybe even a kiss. But when you lifted your head to look up at him, you realized it wasn’t that at all. He’d just rested his chin on the top of your head, his touch warm and gentle, like a quiet reassurance that you didn’t know you needed until now.

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to tilt your head and meet his eyes. Your fingers brushed against his chest lightly as you took a breath, wanting to say something—anything—that would keep this moment from slipping away.

“You couldn’t possibly mess things up with me,” you assured him, your voice steady but filled with a quiet confidence. You didn’t know why you said it, but you meant it. The last thing you wanted was for Glen to feel like he was doing anything wrong by simply being himself.

Glen laughed softly, though it was a little unsure. “Don’t be so sure about that,” he teased, his voice still carrying that hint of vulnerability beneath the humor. He didn’t let go of you, though—his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, almost like he was grounding himself to you in this moment.

You couldn't help but smile at the mix of playfulness and seriousness in his tone. It was typical of him—strong and self-assured, yet still somehow uncertain when it came to matters of the heart. But the way he was holding you, the way his arms had wrapped around you so naturally—it told you everything you needed to know.

“You’re not as big a mess as you think you are, Glen,” you said, your voice soft, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “At least not when it comes to me.”

Glen smiled back at you, the warmth of it reaching his eyes. The distance between you two, both physically and emotionally, was narrowing with every second.

Another breeze stirred the air, cool against your skin. It caught a strand of your hair, whipping it across your face. You instinctively reached up to brush it away, but before your hand could meet your face, Glen shifted. His fingers grazed your cheek softly, his touch warm as he gently tucked the errant strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, resting along your jaw for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met yours, searching, almost like he was wondering what you were thinking—if you were feeling the same pull he was. His breath caught slightly, the air thick with everything unsaid between you two.

For a long, fragile moment, you were certain neither of you wanted to break the connection, but it was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Glen’s fingers lingered on your face, his touch almost electric, and you could feel the heat rising between you.

He parted his lips like he was about to say something—anything—but then stopped. Something held him back, that same hesitation that had kept him quiet, kept him at a distance all evening. His breath faltered, but you could tell he was fighting himself.

The words left you before you could even think twice about them. Soft, barely a whisper, just enough for him to hear: “Kiss me.”

You weren’t sure if he caught it at first. It was so quiet, almost too soft for him to hear. If he didn’t want to, he could easily dismiss it, pretend he hadn’t heard and let the moment pass. The uncertainty and the weight of the words hung between you, like a fragile thread.

But then Glen’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and the gesture was enough to make your heart race. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was soft but full of promise. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing.

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours. You could taste the hint of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin as his lips gently moved against yours, a quiet but insistent promise.

You reached up, your hands trembling slightly, and grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, as if grounding yourself in this moment. His touch was everything—strong, steady, and a little desperate, like he was holding on to something precious. One hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently pulled you closer, his lips urging yours to open. The soft pressure was almost a question, and you answered it without hesitation, your lips parting as his tongue slid in, exploring you with slow, deliberate movements.

The kiss deepened, and everything else faded. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, making you feel the undeniable heat of his body. The way he held you tightly, possessively, ignited a spark inside you that set your skin on fire. You felt every inch of him, the strength in his arms, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours, his heart racing in time with yours.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently pushed you back, guiding you until you were pinned between his solid body and the railing behind you. You could feel the cool metal against your back, the contrast of it to the heat radiating from him, but it only made the moment more intense, more real.

His mouth never left yours, and you were lost in it—lost in the way he kissed you, in the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that instant. His tongue moved against yours, a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine. He was patient but relentless, as if he couldn't get close enough, as if he wanted to drown in this feeling, in the taste of you.

For a moment, you lost yourself completely in him. The kiss became everything—the way his lips molded to yours, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the deep, almost desperate need that surged between you. It was as if nothing else in the world existed but the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to let you both catch your breath, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged. He didn't let go, his hands still on your waist, his body so close you could feel the warmth of him seeping into you. His eyes searched yours, almost like he was asking for permission, or maybe trying to figure out what this meant.

Glen took a slow, deliberate step back, his hands lingering for just a second longer than necessary on your waist, as if reluctant to let go. His gaze locked with yours, still heavy with unspoken words and that same intensity that hung thick in the air. His lips parted slightly, as if he might say something, but the moment lingered—unsaid, just like everything else that had passed between you two.

He reached down, his fingers brushing against yours, and when he grasped your hand, it felt grounding, but at the same time, like a promise. He gently pulled you inside, his touch still warm against your skin, the heat from the kiss still lingering between you.

You stepped closer to him, his hand never leaving yours, and the world outside seemed to fade away once more. The air was different inside—charged in a way that made everything feel more intimate, more real. Glen glanced at you over his shoulder, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark with something unreadable, something that only added to the tension building between you.

And then, with a quiet, almost playful tug, he led you further into the house, closing the door softly behind you. 

* * * * *

You stirred slowly, the warmth of the bed and the soft, rhythmic press of Glen’s lips against your shoulder coaxing you out of sleep. His gentle kisses trailed up to your collarbones, each one sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The sensation was soft, tender—like he was savoring the moment, as if he didn’t want to break the stillness of the morning.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your eyes fluttering open just enough to catch the sight of him—his face only inches from your skin, eyes closed in quiet reverence. His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as though you were the only thing anchoring him to this moment. It felt so natural, so right, that you could almost forget it was Christmas morning.

With a soft sigh, you rolled onto your back, the bed creaking slightly as you shifted. You turned your head, your gaze meeting his. He hadn’t noticed you were awake, his lips still lightly grazing your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, unable to hide the happiness bubbling up inside you. It was a moment of peace, of simplicity, and you knew it was one you’d carry with you for a long time.

When Glen finally met your eyes, his expression softened, a quiet tenderness in his gaze that made your heart flutter in your chest. He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to your lips, brief but full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered back, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, the moment feeling so intimate, so perfect.

Just as you were starting to drift back into the peaceful warmth of the moment, Glen’s phone rang, breaking the silence. He groaned and reached for it, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Not now," he muttered, glancing at the screen and seeing it was Leslie calling.

"Seriously?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "She can’t let us have five more minutes?"

Glen chuckled, though it was laced with mock frustration. "Guess not. She probably wants us to hurry up and join the rest of the chaos." He answered the call and put it on speaker, letting out another groan. "Leslie, it’s Christmas morning, cut me some slack."

You heard her voice, cheerful but insistent. "Yeah, I know, but you need to get over here! We’re all waiting for you to start the presents."

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, looking over at you with a grin. "Alright, alright. We’ll get up and head right over."

But Leslie, ever the sharp one, picked up on the tone in his voice. "Wait a second," she said with a teasing smirk in her voice. "You said ‘we’ll’ get up? So that means... you’re both still in bed?"

You felt Glen stiffen, his eyes locking onto yours as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before he could respond, Leslie continued, sounding far too smug for 8 AM. "And she’s with you, huh? In your room?"

Glen groaned dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. "Leslie, it’s too early for this," he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the line of questioning.

Leslie wasn’t letting up, though. "Oh, I get it," she said in a sing-song voice, a little too amused for her own good. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’"

Glen looked at you, mouthing, "I’m gonna kill her."

He sighed, sitting up on the bed, clearly trying to change the subject. "Okay, okay. We’ll be over soon, alright? Stop prying."

"Sure, sure. Just don’t take too long, or I might have to send Mom in there to drag you both out," Leslie teased before hanging up with a cheerful goodbye.

Glen, still looking mildly exasperated, dropped the phone onto the bed. He laughed and leaned back against the headboard, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, guess we should get up and face the madness."

You and Glen exchanged sleepy smiles as you both began to rise from the bed. Glen stretched his arms overhead, letting out a long yawn, before he slipped on his slippers and headed toward the bathroom. You turned toward the guest room, mentally running through the few things you had to do to get ready for the day.

As you dressed, you couldn't help but replay last night in your head—the kiss, the closeness, the way it felt like the world had just slipped away, leaving only the two of you. But now, in the cold light of morning, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty that lingered. What did it mean? What were you to Glen after everything that had happened? Your heart raced as the thought crossed your mind. Was this something you were supposed to talk about? Or would it be just another fleeting moment, like so many others in the past?

You finished getting dressed, smoothing your shirt and running your fingers through your hair, trying to calm the nerves that had appeared out of nowhere. When you stepped out of the guest room, you found Glen already ready, his jacket on and his keys in hand. He was standing by the door, waiting for you.

He gave you a soft smile when he saw you. "Ready?" he asked, his voice warm but with an edge of hesitation that matched how you were feeling.

You nodded, trying to brush off the unease. "Yeah.”

You followed him to the truck, your mind still racing with questions. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. As you passed the familiar landmarks, your eyes wandered to Glen, who was focused on the road. You wanted to ask him everything, to know where the two of you stood after everything, but you didn’t want to make things awkward.

Finally, Glen broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice steady but quiet. He glanced at you for a moment before turning his focus back to the road. “About last night. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?” you prompted softly, unsure of where he was going with this.

He let out a breath, his lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Look, I know my life isn’t exactly… simple. My schedule is a mess, and I’m gone a lot. I don’t want to pretend like that’s not going to be a challenge. But,” he paused, his voice growing more certain, “I want to see where this goes. With you. If you’re willing to, that is.”

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. You could hear the nervous edge in his voice, the way he shifted slightly in his seat like he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You let the weight of his words settle over you before you replied. “I’m willing to,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I wouldn’t have let last night happen if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he smiled—an honest, open kind of smile that made your chest feel warm. He reached over, his hand finding yours where it rested on your lap. His touch was gentle but firm, like he was grounding himself in this moment.

“Okay,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Then we’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart lighter now, but the lingering uncertainty still hung between you. “So, what do we do about your family?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. “Do we tell them, or…?”

He sighed, his lips quirking in a wry smile. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, his mind clearly turning over the possibilities. “Part of me thinks it’s better to just get it out there. But another part of me… I don’t want to make today about us when it’s supposed to be about family.”

You nodded, understanding his hesitation. “We don’t have to decide right now,” you offered. “Let’s just see how the day goes.”

Glen smiled again, his gaze soft as it flicked toward you. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

The rest of the drive was filled with a sense of quiet anticipation, the air between you lighter now but still charged with the potential of what was to come. Glen didn’t let go of your hand the entire way, and you couldn’t help but feel that, no matter what, the two of you were in this together.

Glen stepped inside first, his hand still firmly clasping yours as he guided you over the threshold. The sound of laughter and conversation spilled from the living room, filling the house with the unmistakable hum of family.

Glen paused just inside the door, turning to face you. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he gently released it, reaching instead to help you shrug off your coat. His fingertips brushed lightly against your arms as he slid the thick material off your shoulders. You glanced up at him, catching the faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Thanks," you murmured, offering him a small smile of your own as he hung your coat on the nearby rack.

He gave a slight nod. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and quiet, just for you.

With that, you made your way toward the living room, Glen trailing close behind. The sight that greeted you was as welcoming as the sounds and smells: his entire family gathered around the tree, mugs of steaming coffee and hot cocoa in hand, their laughter blending with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

"Well, there they are!" Leslie called out, her grin widening as she spotted the two of you.

At her words, all eyes turned to you and Glen. You felt a momentary flush of warmth—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer warmth of the welcome in their gazes. Glen’s mom was the first to rise, crossing the room to pull you into a gentle hug.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, her voice as soft and kind as ever.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling as you returned the hug.

Glen hung back for a moment, his gaze sweeping over his family before it landed back on you. When his mom released you, he stepped forward to exchange his own hugs and greetings, his presence grounding you in the lively room.

As you settled into the living room, Leslie’s sharp eyes darted between you and Glen, a knowing glint lighting her expression. “You two look cozy,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Glen shot her a warning look but didn’t rise to her bait. Instead, he placed a steadying hand on your back as he guided you toward an empty spot on the couch. “It’s still too early for your commentary, Les,” he said dryly, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you sat down, feeling Glen’s hand linger for just a moment longer than necessary before he joined you. The family resumed their chatter, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of the room and the easy dynamic Glen had with his family.

There was an unspoken understanding between you and Glen as the morning unfolded. Whatever the day might bring, you were in this together, and that made everything—his teasing siblings, the bustling energy, the unrelenting sense of closeness—feel a little less overwhelming and a lot more like home.

The morning carried on with a joyous rhythm, the room buzzing with laughter and the crinkling of wrapping paper as Glen’s mom began handing out gifts from beneath the tree. One by one, brightly wrapped packages found their way into eager hands, and the sound of tearing paper soon filled the room.

You found yourself nestled comfortably on the couch beside Glen, warmth radiating from his side. At some point, almost without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. His arm instinctively came up to wrap around you, pulling you just a little closer.

The moment felt effortless, like breathing, and you let yourself savor the comfort of it.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Ohhh, would you look at that?” Leslie’s voice rang out, her tone dripping with mischief.

Your head snapped up, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realized all eyes were now on you and Glen. His parents exchanged exaggerated grins while his older sister’s gaze softened with a mix of joy and curiosity.

“Well, this is new,” somebody teased.

Glen let out a long-suffering groan, running a hand over his face. “Can we not make this a thing?” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice.

Leslie was undeterred, her grin widening as she leaned forward. “Oh, no, this is absolutely a thing. Care to share with the group, Glen?”

He sighed, glancing at you. The flush on your cheeks deepened, but there was no judgment or pressure in his expression—only quiet reassurance.

Finally, he turned back to his family, his shoulders squaring as if bracing himself. “Fine. Yes, we’re… seeing where things go,” he admitted, his voice steady but soft. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me right now.”

His mom clasped her hands together, her face lighting up like the tree behind her. “Oh, Glen,” she said warmly, her joy unmistakable.

The teasing and comments came in waves after that, a mix of playful ribbing and heartfelt congratulations. You felt your face grow impossibly warm, but Glen’s arm around you tightened, grounding you.

Eventually, Glen turned to his family with a pointed look. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Can we get back to the presents now?”

Leslie laughed but relented, reaching for another package beneath the tree. As the room shifted back to its lively rhythm, Glen leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

His eyes softened, and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

And as the morning carried on, the lively chatter and laughter of his family surrounded you, filling the room with warmth. Glen’s arm stayed comfortably around you, an anchor amidst the joyful chaos. For the first time in a long time, you felt at ease—like you belonged, not just in this house but at his side.

Whatever this was, whatever it might become, one thing was clear: this was the beginning of something worth holding onto.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-six of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Hey there, babe,” Bernard says, and Kon feels him flash Tim an easy grin as he rubs his fingertips up the back of his neck in little strokes. “Color?” 

“Green,” Tim says, simple and matter-of-fact, and Kon apparently actually still had some brain left to wreck because hearing Tim’s voice again and hearing Tim’s voice say “green” just reduced it all to bubbling glop.

“Nice,” Bernard says, then adds conversationally: “Your boy was really good, just stayed cuddled up to me all cute the whole time and got real excited for playtime. He definitely missed you, though. Pined a little bit at the window and all, you know how pets get.” 

“Tim,” Kon says without making any real conscious decision to, and it comes out fucking breathy. Tim drops a kiss in behind his ear; squeezes his and Bernard’s linked hands once more before dropping his hand down to his thigh and stroking down to hook underneath it. Kon makes some kind of a noise, he thinks, but can’t hear it over his own thrumming heartbeat. “Tim, I–Rob, can I–” 

“Stay, pet,” Tim murmurs, steadier than any other voice he knows, and everything in Kon’s head that isn’t about him instantly dissolves into nothing. It’s–nothing. It’s all nothing. There’s nothing else there at all. 

“Seriously, you two are way too good at that,” Bernard says, which Kon’s pretty sure he only actually hears because Bernard is Tim-adjacent enough to count as a thing that’ll stay in his head right now. Tim kisses his pulse; squeezes the underside of his thigh. 

“Practice makes perfect,” Tim murmurs, and Kon’s whole brain evaporates and takes everything that isn’t floaty melty-soft rightness with it. They’ve never–they’ve never done this before. 

They’ve done this too many fucking times to even count. 

“Clearly, yeah,” Bernard says with a breathless laugh, and Tim’s fingertips brush in along Kon’s rim and up against where it’s stretched around Bernard’s cock. Kon feels too blissed-out to even react for the contact, but it feels good. Not quite as good as the cock inside him and arms around him, maybe, but still really, really good. 

It’s Tim, so obviously it does. 

“You did a good job,” Tim observes musingly, rubbing just one finger in along the seam right where they’re joined. Kon moans this time, though it’s so quiet he barely even hears it himself, and Bernard buries a rough huff in against his hair. “He’s a lot more relaxed.” 

“Feels like it, yeah,” Bernard says, still a little breathless as he presses a kiss in against Kon’s temple and squeezes his arms around him a little tighter. “Like I’ve got an entire friggin’ punching bag sitting on my dick, except sexy. Dunno how that works but I’m into it, not gonna lie.” 

“Not really surprised to hear that, considering,” Tim says, and then very gently slides a fingertip up into Kon’s body beside Bernard’s dick, easy as anything. Kon is definitely not the only one who hears himself moan this time. “Mm. He took that really well, didn’t he.” 

“Jesus, Tim,” Bernard says, his voice a little strangled. “Did you not just color over this idea?” 

“If I hadn’t taken a minute, I wasn’t going to be able to do it as well as my boy deserves,” Tim replies. Kon feels . . . blurry, a little, and isn’t sure what they’re talking about. But then Tim just gently works another finger up inside him and Bernard makes a tight little noise against his temple and he buries another moan in the other’s shoulder and decides he doesn’t really care anyway. It’s fine. Tim’ll tell him if there’s anything he needs to do. Or . . . know, he guesses. 

“Oh, but I’m supposed to last for this?” Bernard says, and it comes out borderline a wheeze. 

“You’ve got better stamina than me on a normal day, babe,” Tim replies, sounding amused, and Kon feels him take a moment to give Bernard an affectionate little smile that he really wishes he could actually see. 

It’s not . . . it’s not like it’s for him anyway, but . . . 

“Now he tries to win me over with flattery,” Bernard grumbles, then laughs even more breathlessly than the last time and curls his fingers against the back of Kon’s neck and around his fingers. “I’m getting Batted right now, aren’t I.” 

“You’re getting Timmed, babe,” Tim hums, leaning up over Kon’s back to press a kiss to Bernard’s mouth. Kon can feel that too, and it’s a soft and familiar and lingering thing, and they both clearly know how to expect the other to kiss; clearly’ve done it–clearly’ve done it–

Too many fucking times to even count, Kon thinks. 

His gut sort of–tightens, a little, something weirdly longing twisting up inside it, and he wants . . . he thinks he wants . . . 

He really wants kissed right now, he thinks, and buries his face in even tighter against Bernard’s shoulder. 

They’re being really nice to him. He doesn’t need to be–greedy, or whatever.

[priya-san]

Drabble: and hazelnut torte for dessert

Word count: 1.2k

Lucanis x Fem Rook

Lucanis gifts Rook a hazelnut torte for the first time.

—– ♡ —–

Lucanis wiped his brow, slick with sweat after standing in front of the kitchen fire. He gave the paella one last taste, before quietly nodding in approval of his own handy work. He turned off the stove and moved the pot off the hot burner. After a few minutes of rest, dinner would be ready to serve.

He heard the dining room door open just as he bent down to pull out the torte. From the light movements he could tell it was Rook. A small smile bloomed on his face and Spite stirred in the depths of their shared mind.

Rook. Smells like lavender and peppermint.

“You plan on standing over there forever?” Lucanis asked, unable to keep the warmth out of his voice.

“Just taking in the heavenly smell,” Rook walked over to him. “What is it?”

“Paella. Well two of them, one without seafood for Emmrich.”

“I can’t wait,” Rook all but drooled. Her eyes then landed on the torte, and she looked at Lucanis with expectant eyes.

“And hazelnut torte for dessert. It pairs well with coffee.”

Rook’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks began to warm. “Wait. Did you make dessert just for me?”

Lucanis smiled wryly, “There’s enough for everyone.”

“Still, they don’t all love coffee like I do,” Rook beamed.

“They won’t complain.” His voice came out lower than he expected, more rough and heated. Rook reacted to that, a flush crept along her cheeks. Lucanis loved that he was the one who affected her this way.

“You didn’t have to do anything special for me.”

His gaze narrowed, and his smile was replaced with a more serious look. “Yes, I did. I still don’t know how to apologise for… everything. I had to do something to thank you after everything you’ve done for me.”

“Lucanis, I don’t know what to say.” Rook beamed and reached out her hand. He took it easily, craving her touch more than ever before. As he threaded his fingers through her own, he was suddenly aware just how clammy his hands were. He had been cooking, and the anticipation of presenting the dessert to Rook had left him nervous. If she had noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. She was looking at their hands with the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

“You made dessert, just for me.”

“It’s nothing, or not enough.”

Lucanis couldn’t help it. It would never feel like enough. Not after everything she’d done for him, not after everything he had been trained to do. He was a Mage Killer, and Abomination. She deserved more. So, so much more.

“It is,” she said firmly, catching him off guard. He looked up and she held his gaze, firm and resolute. “And you are.” Rook squeezed his hand, and after a beat a slow smile bloomed on his face, and he squeezed back. “I’ll have you know, I’m very easily bribed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled, and Rook’s grin grew wide once more.

“Can I have a slice?”

“Now?”

Rook pulled away and walked to the torte, making a show of taking in the delicious smell. Lucanis was glad that he had only just taken it out of the oven, the rich chocolate smell lingered, enveloping them both.

“Yes please. You made it for me and I want to savour it before the others get here.”

Lucanis smiled warmly, “Of course, Rook.”

He took the torte to the kitchen bench and confidently made a show of lifting up his knife with a flourish. This, this he could do. He was in his element, and Rook seemed to enjoy seeing him in it, eyes never leaving his hands. He presented a plate with a small slice for her.

“Is this enough?”

“Perfect, thank you.” Rook grabbed the plate from him and cut through the torte with the spoon. Lucanis held his breath, until she finally took her first bite. Then… she moaned.

Rook made a noise Lucanis had never heard come out from her mouth before. It was soft, sensual and full of want. He had elicited that from her. A electric current ran through him and his heart beat so loudly he was certain Rook was able to hear it. It scared him how much he wanted to hear her make that noise. More, and more and more.

Fuck, he thought. This is bad.

Why bad? Spite questioned, he paced around Rook as she took another bite. Rook is happy. This is good.

“Gods Lucanis, this is so freaking good.”

“Really?” He asked, grateful for the question so that he wouldn’t have to answer Spite. The demon kept mumbling to himself, thankfully content to be perplexed on his own for once.

Rook likes it. We help Rook.

Rook nodded, “Yes, my Gods. Here have a taste.”

She lifted her spoon up to him and he glanced. Surely she must know what this would do to him. Nevertheless, he was fast finding he could never say no to her.

He took a bite from the spoon and smiled as the flavours exploded in his mouth. It was nutty and chocolatey, with a hint of apricot to break through the rich flavour. Emmrich had done him an amazing favour by sharing this recipe, Lucanis wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

His tongue darted out to lick a crumb off his bottom lip and he didn’t miss how Rook’s eyes widened with that action. She suddenly looked heated, and much more intense than before.

“It’s good.”

“Really good.”

Lucanis swallowed hard, desire shooting through him as she looked at him with those kind, violet eyes. “You-You’re welcome.” He backed away, unsure if he was ready for what came next. Instead of allowing his thoughts to wander about how good she would feel pressed up to him, he moved to the sink to wash his knife.

If Rook was disappointed by his actions, she didn’t show it. Instead, she finished her slice in silence, humming in delight every now and then. When there was not a crumb left on her plate, he reached over to take it from her. She handed it to him and closed the gap between them, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. It was quick, but long enough for Lucanis to take in just how soft her lips were. Softer than he could have ever imagined. They felt so good, so right there just above his beard. It was perfect.

“I’m happy to go slow if you are,” she whispered against him before pulling away. She was smiling, warm and kind.

“If that is enough for you,” echoes of disappointment raged through his head. Spite grumbled in annoyance at his own internal chatter, that he wasn’t Illario. He couldn’t sweep her off her feet and take her right here and now like she probably wanted.

She grabbed his hand again, her thumb stroking his knuckles. “Lucanis, you will always be enough for me.”

His heart sped up, fluttering with nerves, joy and the one emotion he couldn’t dare name because it was too soon. Way too soon. Instead, he allowed himself to be emboldened by her declaration, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[anonomano]

Connection ~ Carlos Sainz

Prolouge

Mafia!Carlos Sainz x Fem,Arranged!Reader

Part one part two

synopsis: Carlos is forced into a marriage that he doesn’t want. But he isn’t the only unhappy one…

warnings: smut 18+ eventually, violence, bad writing this is my first time, lack of knowledge about the mafia

Carlos Sainz Sr. had just died. A heart attack. He was a well respected, and feared, man; the leader of the Sainz crime family. He left in his wake the opening of that position.

The man who would take that role is his son, Carlos Jr.

No one has seen Carlos in years, the story is that he fought with his father and left to travel the world. Sleeping his way through each hemisphere. The only one he kept in touch with was his youngest sister, they were inseparable as children and that closeness never really changed. But, after hearing the news of his fathers death, Carlos came home to fill the power vacuum and protect his family.

You were close with your family; your father was Sainz Sr.’s right hand man, and your brothers have worked closely with him for years. But your mother wanted to keep you out of the family business so you really knew nothing about it. You were innocent, so innocent that you were still a virgin, you wanted to wait till marriage. Your mother told you that one day you could find your prince charming, marry him, and spend your lives together.

When Carlos came back he was told that he needed to settle down, get married and have kids. He needed to carry on the family legacy and provide an heir in case anything happens to him. He was very unhappy about this.

“Why?! It doesn’t matter what I’m doing in my own life!” he shouted pacing aroud his fathers, his office. His mother was sitting on the desk watching him. She was still mourning, dressed in black with a veil covering her face, she wore the family pearls that his father gave her when they got married, her makeup and hair done perfectly as it always was.

“Carlos, sweetheart, it matters” she stated “it is no longer just your life, its the family’s” she stood walking over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders “you need a wife, someone who can take care of you, and a mother for your children” she took off the pearl necklace she was wearing, placing them on the desk “when your father and I got married we were in the same position, but it was the best thing we could have done… we got you” she cradles his face in her hands “and your sisters. We didn’t know each other before we got married but we grew to care about each other”

“Fine” Carlos resigned “Will you give me some time,? I need to go through some things… and think.”

He watches his mother leave the room perfectly put together. He never knew their marriage was arranged; he was always under the impression that they fell in love and got married. Did they even love each other? Was his mother forced into this life? He holds the pearls in his hand, perfectly polished, and rarely worn by his mother.

——————————————————————————

You were doing your hair in the mirror; tying a baby pink bow in. The pink perfectly matches the flowers on your dress. Your make up was done lightly, your mother didn’t like it when you wore too much. Some simple mascara and some pink lipgloss was almost too much for her.

A knock at your door startles you. “Darling?” it was your father “Can I come in?”

“Of course daddy!” you open the door, a smile on your face. “What do you need?” you question, cocking your head to the side like an innocent dog.

“Darling, we need to talk” he sits on your bed patting the place beside him “You know how Mr. Sainz just died?” you nod “Well his son, Carlos, is taking over the family buisness. And he needs someone to…share that responsibility with. We think… that person, should be you. Do you understand?”

“But, I don’t know anything about the family business.” You shake your head “you made sure of that. How could I help?” Your father stands, sighs and glaces around searching for the words.

“Darling…he needs a wife. I would like for you to marry him” you stare at him in shock “now I know your mother has always told you that you would fall in love and get married and maybe you will fall in love but this is about business and I need you to do this for me—“

“okay”

“—I have always provided for you and…okay? okay…okay… great I will tell your mother and send her up here to talk to you about…things” He kisses your forehead “Thank you, Darling, truly” he swiftly leaves the room closing the door behind him leaving you behind dreaming about a kindhearted man.

You knew nothing about Carlos Jr.; you barely knew of his existence. But, if he was anything like his father, who had treated you kindly, you would be happy.

[sweetbunpura]

Filled with Static pt.3

Summary: Yuu was already fed up before coming to Playful Land and now that it's over... She has some very choice words for she has reached her boiling point...

Part 1 - Part 2

"Ace-"

"What?" Ace rubbed the bruise on his cheek as they entered Heartslabyul. "I heard it enough from the others, I ain't gotta hear it from you two too."

Trey and Cater look at each other as the first year shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Ace, we're trying to say we're all at fault here." Trey tries again.

Cater adds in. "Yeah, Ace. We didn't do anything to stop you-"

"But you did!" He shouted. "You both said he looked shady and I ignored you two!"

"True, but we also didn't physical stop-"

"Where do I even try to begin?"

The three of them paused as they entered the lounge. Riddle and Deuce were standing there, the first year was behind the seething dorm leader.

"I'm very sure I deliberately told you NOT to go to that amusement park." Riddle glared at the three of them. "So why did you feel the need to disobey me? And what about you two, Trey and Cater?"

Ace was silent as he looked off to the side while Trey took charge of the situation.

"Riddle, I followed him out of the dorm-"

"And yet you chose now to bring him back?"

"We ran into some problems-"

"I assume the problem was spending all day at that park."

Riddle's tone was cold and sharp, cutting off any attempt Trey had at trying to give an excuse. The vice leader deflated, not willing to try and continue for an out.

"I believed you to be better than this, Trey." He crossed his arms and directed his attention towards Cater. "And you?"

"Hahahaha...." Cater rubbed the back of his head. "I, um, Lilia-chan and I thought it would be a good idea to.... uh, allow Kalim to go to the park?"

"With Jamil's permission?"

"About that?"

"You too!?" Riddle began to shout. "What could drive you both to even chose to do this!? I understand that I've been lenient on the rules lately, but certainly not to this degree!"

Cater and Trey flinched while Ace rolled his eyes. Before Riddle could start his tangent, Deuce chimed in.

"Ace, why do you have a bruise on your cheek?"

"Huh?" Ace rubbed the mark. "Oh. Yuu punched me."

"What?" Deuce looked confused. "Why would she- I mean I get it, it's you. But Yuu hardly punches any of us-"

"Wrong, Juice, she doesn't punch you." Ace scoffed. "She punched me for no reason-"

"Ace." Cater's voice had lost his playfulness. "Yuu got hurt, you said the off comment sentence of 'why don't you just go back home?'"

"You what?" Deuce's face twist in rage and he grabbed Ace's collar. "Did you forget that she can't!?"

"Of course I forgot! It didn't cross my mind when I said it!"

"Nothing every does, Ace, and that's the problem! She's told us about how much she'd love to go back home and you rubbed it in!?" Trey and Cater tried prying Deuce's hands off of the red head.

"Fuck off and let go of me!" Ace joined his upperclassman's hands

"Ace, you do this every time! You mock Yuu for not knowing the holidays we have and for the things she doesn't know! You forget she's not from here!"

"You don't have to rub it in!" Ace snarled. "Everyone else already did!"

"You're so fucking bullheaded and insensitive, no wonder Yuu doesn't tell you shit!"

"Deuce, let him go. You don't need to waste your breath on him anymore." Riddle commanded.

The blue haired first year glared at the heart solider before dropping him on the floor like he was a pile of trash. Riddle studied Ace as he directed his attention to Trey and Cater

"....Am I wrong for assume that Yuu left?"

"....No." Trey's shoulders sagged. "She left and didn't take Grim with her. Riddle, she's.... she's done with us. Done with NRC."

His eyes widened and it took a few seconds before he spoke. "....What happened."

With much hesitation, Trey and Cater begin to recount what happened as Ace crossed his arms and added in commentary. By the end of it, Riddle was livid and trying to hold not only himself back but Deuce as well.

"I have no words." Riddle struggled to control his breathing. "You three have done irreversible damage all in the span of a day. Get out of my sight, I'll decide your punishment later. Come, Deuce."

"Yes, Sir."

They depart as they leave the trio there to ruminate on what they've done. Eventually, Cater shuffles off to his room while Ace leaves for his in a huff. Trey stands in the middle of the Lounge and feel his heart drop to his feet before he too departs for his room. The next day, all three of them are awoke by a text message simply stating:

All named students come to Crowley's office at once. Ace Trappola, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Jack Howl, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Ortho Shroud, and Lilia Vanrouge.

[ink-stainedkiss]

This isn't necessarily a request (unless you like the idea😍) but i am WEAK for saiki kusuo being happy and laughing, as ooc as it sounds IDC HES MY BABY AND HES HUMAN THEREOFRE I CONCLUDE THIS BOY CAN HAVE HIS DAILY DOSE OF GIGGLES.

Like, i read the fic you made on saiki finding readers thoughts funny, and i BAJDJSJAJDBS I SQUEALED.

Just imagining him breaking character, or AUDIBLY laughing, is so so sweet bro im not even joking. He'd only ever be comfortable doing it infront of his mom probably, or his close friends. EVEN SO.

Just needed to get it off my chest. 🙂 if you ever make more fics with happy/giggly saiki i might actually marry you. 🙂🙂🙂

This one goes specifically to you queen😍 and No. I’m going to marry you🫵😼

Missing You

Synopsis: Saiki starts to feel a bit weird when you are out and he realizes he misses you. Now to find a way to get you home faster…

Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I hope you all had a great time because I sure did. Sorry my activity has been a little slow these past days have been busier than expected, so this one’s going to be a bit short. Also thank you all for the likes on my later posts! It feels so amazing to see you guys enjoying my other works. Anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff of our beloved Saiki💕

“You on the phone”

“Saiki on the phone”

*Saiki is wearing his telepathy blocking ring in this, so he's speaking normally*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

Everyone knew that Saiki was not a dependent person. He was the furthest thing from it. He loved his alone time- actually scratch that. He craved alone time. It was just his luck that he was always surrounded by people that caused him so much mental pain. To Saiki’s surprise, he had found someone he tolerated. Well it was more than that, but you guys were just friends, so he couldn’t say anything. He realized you were the only one that didn’t put Saiki through a problem which he had to solve. There were no long adventures when you talked to him in the halls. No using his powers to fix something you had done. He was able to act perfectly normal around you. Which is why he grew such an affection toward you. He grew so comfortable that he told you about his abilities and like he expected you took it well.

Today was one of his favorite days. Where he was able to hang around your home without a care in the world. Whatever his friends were up to outside of your house was not Saiki’s business, nor did he care about it. He had developed a routine when you text him to come over. He would arrive at your house, wear his germanium ring and let his worries wash away. It was the closest thing he could get to being a normal teenager and he was damn sure going to use his time wisely. Whenever Saiki stayed at your home, you would ask to do something, nothing crazy. Something simple like baking a batch of cookies, watching a movie on the couch, or if you were very bored, you would ask to do Saiki’s hair, which he never denied. Because, well, it was you. How could he say no?

Today was a bit different. You had mentioned you needed to run some errands and you promised you would back around noon. Saiki was fine with this since it meant he would have the house to himself. You trusted him greatly so you didn’t mind if he stuck around while you were out. When you left he gave a small nod and then the house was silent. Today was very different because something felt off. He had been reading a book on your shelf out of interest, but for the past five minutes, he had been rereading the same sentence over and over. Something was tugging in his head, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.

Today was different because he felt so off without you in the same room as him. He checked the clock, realizing I had only been an hour and a half since you left. You wouldn’t be back until later, so Saiki had to find something to distract himself. Today was different because tried to cure his “boredom” with his powers. He turned on your kitchen sink, watching blankly as he made shapes and animals out of the liquid. When that didn’t stop the tugging, he moved onto your room. He felt slightly better resting on your bed and he played it off as being tired, but no. When he kept checking the clock to see if it was any closer to noon, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he missed you.

It was such a foreign feeling. Saiki? Wanting someone to be around him? Well that’s what happens when you sneak your way into his heart. The psychic couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his phone, clicking on your contact and placing the device to his ear. The small buzzing reached his ear and he felt a small fragment of relief when you answered after the second ring.

“Hey Saiki, what’s up?”

He sighed, a bit humiliated he felt this way.

“Nothing.”

“Then did you need something?”

“When are you going to be home?”

He said home like he lived here with you, but if you minded, you didn’t make it obvious.

“I should be there in maybe three hours.”

That did not help.

“Can you get here sooner?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

Might as well since there isn’t anything else getting you here faster. Saiki thought.

A small gasp sounded through the speaker, “I thought you said nothing was happening?”

“Just get here fast.”

And with that he hung up the phone.

—

You raced to your house, hoping you wouldn’t find it in ashes or hit by a tornado. Maybe you were being dramatic, but why would Saiki call you and tell you to come home quickly? It was shocking that you didn’t get pulled over at the pace you were driving home. When you pulled onto your street, you were thankful to not see any smoke, but that didn’t make you slow down. You slammed to a stop in your driveway, panic flooding your veins. You unlocked your door at lightning speed and the second it was open, you called out,”I’m here! What happened?!”

You shut the door behind you, scanning for some sort of danger, but you find your house was still intact. You were so confused. You were expecting some sort of freak accident with Saiki’s powers, but everything was in place.

“Nothing wrong.”

You whipped around, finding Saiki had teleported behind you. You blinked in confusion,”What are you talking about? You told me to get here quick and I-“ “I lied.” Your arms dropped at your side in defeat,”Then why am I here right now?” He gave you an emotionless stare,”Because I wanted you to be.”

Still in shock, you looked around, finding a scattered book on your couch. It was odd because Saiki is always the one to be neat. You turned to the boy, noticing how he was hardly making eye contact with you and he clearly wanted to say more. You recalled his words over the phone, then it all clicked.

“Saiki,” your words were barely above a whisper,”Did you miss me?”

The things that happened next were a blur. In the blink of an eye two arms were wrapping around you and you could feel Saiki’s head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t respond to your question, but this was enough to answer it. Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Was this really the same Saiki? The one who barely let people stand close to him, was holding onto you like a lifeline. You felt a long sigh escape his lips and instinctively you reached one hand up to rest in his pink hair and the other embracing him over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know how else to get you here.” He confessed gently, making your heart melt,”You could have just asked, Kusuo.” He tucked himself more into your neck, almost hiding his face from you,”But you were busy.” You rolled your eyes, “It was just getting groceries, I would have dropped everything if I knew you wanted me here.”

Saiki didn’t know how to respond, instead he used his teleportation to take you both to your room. You let out a grunt as you back hit your mattress, but your attention changed to the boy resting on you. He looked so at peace and you couldn’t believe this was still the same person. (It’s not like you were complaining.) As you softly played with his pink hair, a small idea popped into your head. Maybe I should go out more often if this is what I get to come home too…