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1920sladydectective · 7 hours ago

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Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks.

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you.

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home.

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid.

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately.

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air.

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,”

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,”

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there.

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much.

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere.

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,”

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,”

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,”

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred.

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more.

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place.

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed.

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking.

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork.

It wasn’t enough.

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up.

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil.

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,”

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient.

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,”

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,”

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,”

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,”

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart.

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her.

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,”

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins.

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return.

“Yes, actually,”

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,”

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped.

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,”

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm.

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same.

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys.

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,”

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed.

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen.

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t.

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,”

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise.

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,”

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue.

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it. Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..”

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses.

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine.

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here.

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.”

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles.

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

“Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed.

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,”

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,”

“And look where that got me,”

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours.

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?”

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,”

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,”

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,”

“Stop saying that!”

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,”

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?”

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?”

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy.

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft.

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,”

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden.

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused.

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat.

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead.

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake.

“That was not the only way to do that,”

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion.

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!”

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,”

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher.

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,”

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear.

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,”

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know.

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear.

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,”

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate.

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over.

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about?

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard.

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile.

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,”

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place.

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,”

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car.

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener.

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery.

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her.

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans.

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,”

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,”

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,”

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?”

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,”

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent.

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start.

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized.

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her.

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both.

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin.

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day.

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind.

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator.

Calla Lillies - Beauty.

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly.

“You back with me, babe?”

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely.

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,”

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,”

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation.

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile.

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you.

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips.

“She’s never reliable,”

“She is literally compulsively on time,”

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,”

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother.

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again.

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,”

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?”

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,”

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now.

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours.

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder.

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin.

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table.

“So,” You started, chest tight.

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could.

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers.

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last.

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt.

“So a win-win?”

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it.

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch.

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,”

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped.

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening.

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear.

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough.

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,”

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped.

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,”

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching.

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?”

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good.

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer.

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy.

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again.

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls.

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room.

You were in a bed now. How had that happened?

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on.

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Would you like it?”

A nod.

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures.

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you.

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust.

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours.

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere.

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets.

She loved you.

You loved her.

How perfect.

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together.

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel.

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling.

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her.

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly.

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you.

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer.

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob.

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate.

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat.

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern.

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers.

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,”

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,”

Liar. Her grin gave her away.

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,”

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride.

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,”

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time.

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile.

No more secrets. No more sadness.

You were finally officially a Medarda.

#reader insert #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane #ambessa smut

69 notes · View notes

mlyscha · 1 day ago

Note

hello! I wanted to request a riki fic inspired by the song from the start by laufey! like in a high school au. I'm so sorry if my explanation is off I'm not good at that stuff 😞 I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!

𝒰𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽!

( ENHYPEN ── 𝒻𝗼𝗿. 𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎 ) ౨ৎ ℐ𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . you loved riki from the start, suffering the consequences of it. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 : angst. 𝓌𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! unrequited love, reader and riki's family is vaguely implied to be wealthy, heeseung is reader's older brother & interpretative ending. ( 𝗐𝖼. 38OO ) 𝓮𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮' … 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋-𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 ༘ . 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

( 愛 ) 𝒻𝗿𝗼𝗺. @starizzm ⸝⸝

𝒶-𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. OMG I LOVED WRITING THIS REQUEST!! as i was listening to from the start by laufey, lots of ideas just began to pop in my head lolz i hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for your compliment >< you're always so sweet! <3

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍! ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾&𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀&𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

TODAY FELT LIKE ANOTHER TRIVIAL day at school. you haven't done much besides thinking about your crush: nishimura riki. he is your brother's classmate and you have known him since you were a little girl.

so little that, even though you two have never talked for more than a half an hour alone, you fell in love. you remember sneaking into your neighbour's garden and stealing fresh flowers to gift him or how often you asked you mother to make sugar biscuits; so you could give it to him and hopefully make your brother's best friend fall in love with you. and you remember how often you dreamed of confessing as if you two were ditto.

you were written something down on your notebook when you heard someone entering the classroom, quickly occupying the seat in front of you. everything happened so suddenly that you couldn't even process how close that person was from you.

and then, that deep voice of your crush echoed, fitting itself in the room like a glove. "what are you doing, flower?" the way that pet name came out of his mouth made your heart pound. you looked up and replied: "i am just doodling and writing... i am kind of bored..." you say, but then at the same second you frown.

"what happened to you? are you sick?" you watched riki frowning this time. "what do you mean, silly?" he chuckled, holding your hand. "i am just talking to you," you hum in understatement, gulping down tightly as you felt his thumb rub the back of your hand.

"what are you doing?" you asked, making him chuckle again. "i am sensing you are not a fan of affection..." riki says, and as soon as you realised he was about to leave your hand, you grabbed his and held it. "oh...? so you do like affection, flower..." you look down, embarrassed by his teasings.

thinking all of that situation was weird, you question him: "what do you want? i am not writing your essay again, neither do your history homework! you're a grade above me anyway..." you disengaged and he scoffed. "it's a pity how little you think of me, beautiful..."

"why are you calling me that...?" "you are curious little one aren't you?" he smirks, looking down at you and cupping your cheeks after standing up from the chair, standing in front of you. "y/n, you want to know a little secret?" riki asks you in a alluring voice, making you nod as you focus on him. he smiles before leaning his head closer to your face. "you have to keep this secret, okay?" you nodded again, hypnotised. "good," he pauses. "i am in love with yo..."

THE SOUND OF YOUR ALARM has you falling from bed, whining as you hit your face on the ground. "ouch!" you groan. "you fell from your bed again, y/n?!" your brother's voice reached your room from the bathroom. "what do you think?!" you yell back, standing on your feet with a grumpy face. "by your face i would assume: yes." he says, walking in your room.

"go shower and get yourself ready, you stink," when he was just about to walk out of your room, he adds: "and, i almost forgot that riki is picking us up, make sure to get ready in a blink of an eye!" finally, he leaves the room and lets you have some space to process what he has said.

hearing that name you recapped the dream you have just waken up from. you were used to dreaming about him confessing to you. however, you weren't sure why your dreams always finished before he could say: "you"── odd, but nothing to be worried about.

after a big stretch you began your day by taking a quick shower and dress up; following the next step which is make up. after finishing all steps, you sprayed some perfume and went downstairs to have breakfast with your family.

"hello, sweetheart! how was your sleep?" you mum asks you, placing a small peck on your cheek. "uh, great, and yours?" "could've be great if your father and i didn't have to plan our next business trip," you mother sigh. "i wish i could spend more time with you and your brother..." "stop being dramatic!" your father jokingly says, making your mum gasp but laugh.

"oh, i made your favourite biscuits, y/n!" "really?!" your eyes widened a bit, excited about giving them to riki. "of course! make sure to share with your friends, okay?" you hummed making your mum smile.

A SHORT TIME AFTER BREAKFAST riki arrived at your house just in time── his private driver driving the three of you. you were sat on the right while heeseung sat between you and riki. you were holding the small tupperware your mum put the biscuits with a tight grip, holding yourself to hand it to riki 'till lunch time.

the drive was calm, yet, awkward── like usual ──since you kept yourself quiet while your brother and his friend kept talking.

the exact moment three of you entered school, a group of girls stopped to greet riki and your brother── since both of them are pretty popular among the girls. and you? you stood there awkwardly existing, admiring how communicative your crush were; even though he has this nonchalant personality.

your chest hurt: realising he has never smiled to you as pretty as he just smiled to a girl walking beside him. her name is yoonchae, and she is the prettiest girl you have ever seen in your life. you looked away once riki turned to glance at the sight burning his skin through his white uniform shirt.

once you reached your classroom, like the usual, your brother stopped in front of the door, watching you wave at him── secretly hoping riki would do the same like the old times when kids: but he has never done since he turn into a grown up.

heeseung sensing your disappointment, he nudged the japanese boy with his elbow, discreetly nodding his head at your seated figure. you quickly turned your head away from the sight of them, embarrassed.

however, you heard the familiar deep voice call your name: "hey, y/n," you looked over at him. "have a great class today!" he said, giving you a closed smile, lacking enthusiasm. you shyly smiled and nodded your head, thanking him while trying to hold in the pain of being shoot with a cupid's arrow.

your brother glanced at you and smiled and that smile of his always makes you feel that he knew how much you liked his best friend (deep inside). and even though it is indeed something easy to see, you thought you kept things discreet and simple── until you turned seven and realised how obvious you were mostly of the time.

"hi, pookie!" your best friend poked you. "what ya' thinking about?" she asked, sitting on her desk by your side. "nothing much, mei..." you reply, pursing your lips. she hums.

"is it riki again? who got you upset? what did he do?!" mei squinted her eyes, ready to fight the black haired boy. "he has done nothing," you let out a nasal chuckle. "like usual..." you roll your eyes, sighing.

your friend pouted, worried about you once she realised how down you looked. "y/n, if you keep liking him i will-" "what if i tattoo his name on my forehead?" you glance over mei, who leans her head back and turns back to you in shock.

"what?! are you serious? i mean, you can tattoo his name, but not on your forehead!" "mhm... what if i boil write his name on a paper and boil it in water?" you suggest excitedly. "oh my god, y/n, think on something else!" "something else? like... hypnosis?" "no!" she kisses her teeth. " what if you just confessed to him?!"

your shoulders tensed up and your face dropped. you sighed, pondering. "i think i am not rea-" "don't tell me you're not ready── liking him for more than a decade! you can't be serious right now!" mei argues.

"i know, mei, i am just..." you look down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "scared," "but-" "can we talk about this later?" you look at your friend with pleading eyes and she purses her lips, feeling empathy. "sure, i just don't want to see you hurt, okay?" she smiles, covering your hands with hers.

YOU AND MEI WERE JUST about to walk out of the class to grab lunch, when your brother walked in with riki and yoonchae── that girl from earlier. "let's have lunch together?" "ye-yeah, i was just about to look for you guys," you reply. "you didn't even have to come up here anyway." heeseung chuckles. "just making sure you eat, alright? let's go."

you noticed how close riki and that girl looked, smiling at each other like sneaky lovers just hiding secrets.

your brother's arm was placed across your shoulders, snuggling you closer to his chest, somehow trying to turn your face away from the sight of them. meanwhile, mei kept walking by your side, chatting with you and your brother enthusiastically. however, the only thing you could think about and notice yoonchae and your crush walking side by side a few steps behind.

"can i eat those biscuits too?" your brother's voice echoed. you glanced down to the small biscuits tupperware you were holding. "what do you think?" you sarcastically ask him. humming, he replies: "i think because i am your brother i can have all of them," heeseung steals it from you, holding it high from your reach.

you scoff, mocking his childish action, completely ignoring his teases. "give it back," you display your palm, waiting for him to hand it back to you── in which he did, frowning as mei and him traded confused eye sights, thinking that your behaviour was curious.

WHILE SITTING ON THE CAFETERIA'S bench, heeseung and your friend couldn't stop looking at each other while watching your quiet behaviour, since you were always more comfortable to be yourself/talkative when your best friend was there.

heeseung gestures to your friend, signalising he wanted to talk to her. "guys, i'll buy something sweet, alright? i'll be right back," heeseung said── the three of you nodding. standing up from the bench, he glances at your friend.

"oh, really? i'll go with you then, i am craving something sweet!" mei felt you holding her hand, asking her to not leave. "it's going to be fast," "i am going with you," "no, finish your lunch, otherwise you'll fell sick." and then she follows your brother to a corner, doing her best to ignore your pleading eyes.

"gosh, this conversation better be quick── otherwise i think i might die," mei says, looking at you sitting there while hugging yourself. "okay, do you know anything? i mean, did y/n tell you something?"

"ugh, i hate this because-" she glances at heeseung with a scrunched nose, pondering if she should tell him. "heeseung, you have to promise me you won't tell y/n i told you this, but..." mei sighs before revealing: "y/n likes- no, i mean, she loves riki. a lot." she explains. "and i think this has something to do with him being close to yoonchae,"

"i knew it!" he whispers-yells and mei's eyes widens. "i were almost sure you knew, but i didn't know you were that enthusiastic about it," she says. "anyway, what should we do to help her then?" "you got my number right?" he asks and she cocks a brow, nodding. "good, we can discuss about it later-"

"discuss what?" "AHHHH!" "OH MY GOD, Y/N!" "you scared us!" "were you guys talking about me?" "WHAT?!" heeseung and mei looked at each other like accomplices, nervously pondering what do say. "look, y/n-"

"don't tell me..." you gasped. "you two were making out?!" both of them became silent, processing. "i kne-!" "you knew nothing because there is nothing going on! let's go back, y/n!" mei began to walk you back to the table, looking angrily back at heeseung while he discreetly laughed.

THE BELL RANG, MAKING EVERYONE feel relieved and happy that another busy day at school finished. you sighed as you began to pack your belongings.

"are you good to go?" your best friend asked, patiently waiting for you to leave class with her. you nodded, standing up from your chair and hanging your backpack on your shoulder. "ugh, i can't wait to go home!" mei groans, grasping onto your arm as both of you walk out of class. "do you want a ri-"

"y/n!" your brother's voice echoed through the halls and you couldn't help but roll your eyes with annoyance, looking back where the voice came from. "where are you going not waiting for me?"

"what do you mean? we are going to the same house, i don't need to wait for you like a little girl." you glance over at the japanese boy standing beside heeseung, focus on his phone── texting someone.

heeseung, meanwhile, just chuckled at your attitude. "stop acting like this, bubs," he messes up with your hair. "let's go, shall we?" he nudges riki with his shoulder and you frown your brows a little bit.

THE RIDE BACK HOME WAS quiet, just like earlier. riki and heeseung kept talking and like the usual you kept quiet, holding onto your biscuit's tupperware── untouched.

once the car parked in front of your house, you and heeseung exited the car, thanking riki. the japanese boy smiled, saying it was nothing and wishing a good night.

walking in your house, the smell of fresh savoury food reached you from the entrance. "honey! the kids arrived!" your mum's sweet voice came from the kitchen, calling your father. "hello, my babies," your mother greeted both of you, picking up the thrown backpacks and putting it away in a basket. "alright, both of you go shower so we can have dinner, okay?"

GOING DOWNSTAIRS FOLLOWING THE DELICIOUS smell trail, you encountered your whole family united at the dinning room, organising the dinner table. "oh, hello, sweetie," your mum's sight laid on you. "take a seat!" she says with a big smile.

"how was class today?" your dad ask both of you. "good," "normal," "how boring! here, i made steak today to help on your guys 'teenager mood'," she jokes and the old man laughs. "teenager mood is a great one!" he says and your mum chuckles. "i know," she pauses as she sits on the table. "help yourselves!"

even though you were considerably hungry, the sight of riki that touchy with another girl bothered you. it's not like you two have something even that special that could make you worry that much, but you── unfortunately ──had big expectations since a kid against your relationship with him. it hurts. it really does.

you weren't expecting to ever have to experience an awkward silence with him as much as you began experiencing. you weren't expecting to be looked at like you were nothing but a burden when it's just the two of you and no one else in the room. you weren't expecting to be nothing either.

"how about you, y/n?" your mother's voice echoed, waking you up from your trance. "oh? yeah, it is..." "you haven't touched your food yet," heeseung wheezed, leading to a dirty look from you. "just the thought of you is delicious!" you explain yourself, making your mum chuckle. "it's okay, honey, just eat."

"oh, i noticed you haven't eaten the biscuits i have baked this morning, sweetie... did it taste bad?" your mum asked apprehensive. you sigh, smiling. "no, mum, i just had a upset stomach..." "oh... okay..."

"is there any interesting girl in your school, son?" your father questions your brother. "that i am liking? no, not at the moment," heeseung shrugs. "has your friend found anyone?"

you choke on your water, coughing uncontrollably. your mother pats your back and asks if you were okay. "excuse me," you say, standing up from your seat and sprinting to the bathroom.

once you locked yourself in the bathroom, you soaked your face with water, trying to process the question you weren't ready to hear the answer── thinking about the possibly right answer leaving your brother's mouth scared you.

you stood there in front of the mirror for a good three minutes, leaving the room with a deep breath, recomposing yourself and finishing dining with empty thoughts.

YOU WERE UPSTAIRS IN YOUR room finishing the book you have read a few times before. feeling a sense of boredom, you made your way to your brother's room, knocking on his door.

"so that's what i tol- oh wait a second, bro, y/n is here," heeseung opened the door while holding his phone up at his ear. "what is it, missy?" putting his phone down, he gently pulls you in to enter, shutting the door as you did so.

"i am kind of bored── just wanted to make a little visit," heeseung frowns. "okay? lay down, i am doing a school project." "i won't bother," you surrender yourself, plopping on his bed.

while laying on heeseung's bed, you started to feel sleepy. something about the soothing voice he was talking to behind the phone and the noise his keyboard was making── everything so relaxing. with that, you took advantage of the environment and decided to take a nap before returning to your room later.

however, you began to hear a suspicious conversation brewing, growing your earbuds as soon as you heard: "you know, yoonchae has texted me earlier saying that," riki paused, the noise of sheets echoing from the phone── like he were moving himself around. "- she wanted to make it official soon," he sighs. "and now, i am not sure what to do..."

"what do you mean? you told me you were in love with her like... yesterday and for the past three months...?" "i know but-" he takes another deep sigh. "i know she is pretty, we have the greatest connection, she is smart as fuck── like: straight up, perfect, but now i don't know how i should make it official, you know? what if i don't reach her expectations?"

"riki, if she likes you, she won't accept anything less than your best, that's all i have to say." you heard your crush whining. "i'll see what i can do then."

"are you planning to ask her when?" "i think," riki paused, humming as he though. "this weekend── i'll probably ask her out on a date and confess; give her a ring and all."

"okay, i got to go now, it's getting late and y/n is sleeping on my bed," you heard riki chuckling. "alright, see you tomorrow." "see you, bro, good luck."

once you heard heeseung standing up from his chair you closed your eyes shut── feeling a few tears streaming down, wetting a already soaked spot on your brother's bed; from all the tears that have streamed down your face the moment you began to hear their conversation.

"y/n? wake up, go back to your-" "i am awake," you opened your eyes, slowly sitting on the edge of his bed. "oh...? were you?" you watched your brother's voice shaky and his throat swallowing dry.

do you recognise the sound of glass shattering? and how about the pain after it hits you? it hurts right? it hurts even more when the glass shattering is your heart and a stupid sharp piece of it stabbing your chest a billion times, leaving you numb── paralysed. not even your tears being felt at this point.

"since-?" "since everything." you stood up from his bed, standing on your toes while sobbing. "you knew, didn't you?" you scoffed in disbelief. "you always knew how much i liked him..." "y/n, you know all i do is to protect yo-"

"SHUT UP!" you snap. "YOU ALWAYS TREAT ME LIKE A FUCKING KID!" you take a few steps back from where you brother stood, disgusted. "that's why riki never perceived me as a woman... IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" suddenly, you felt big arms hugging you. "it's all your fault..." you sob as you grow weak.

"you don't mean it..." "i mean it," you whisper. "I FUCKING MEAN IT!" you try to push him away from you, but he doesn't let you do that, holding you tighter. "i am sorry, i am so sorry."

the last thing you remember is being held by your brother while crying your eyes off.

YOU WERE SITTING ON THE bench of a nearby park, appreciating the sunset view while trying to forget what has happened. you woke up today feeling blue and with swollen eyes, deciding to call it a day and refusing to go to school.

suddenly you feel a presence by your side: riki. "are you okay? heeseung told me you were going to be here and that i should've pick you up." he asks and you look away. "aren't you going to talk to me?" you kept quiet. "is that so? mhm... look at me then," you feel his thumb brush against the skin of your neck, gently pulling it to look at you.

"did i do something that bothered── bothers you?" you glance at him with teary eyes. "why are you crying?" he runs his thumb against the blush of your cheeks.

"you lied to me..." you say with a weak voice, muffled like. "you lied to me saying that you would like me someday..." you watch him frown. "what do you mean, y/n?" "you told me you would like me the day i confessed to you." "oh? that? you were six and i was eight, what did you expect? i thought you were joking," he chuckles.

"but i wasn't kidding── at all," you sniffled. "yesterday you and heeseung broke my heart..." you confess. "i should've known better," you chuckle, feeling pathetic. "the way you look at me stabs me like the sharpest knife." "what do you...?" "like a reminder you don't feel the same."

a few seconds into an awkward silence you confess: "i loved you from the start, riki," "y/n, i-" "since day one; my whole life, riki! i can't stop thinking about you since we were kids!"

YOU SLOWLY WOKE UP FROM your dream yelling something you couldn't recover. you look around your room but immediately lay your head down on your pillow, staring to the blue while thinking about the dream you just had── different from many others where riki always tried to tell you a secret.

therefore, this time, since this time he hasn't mentioned anything about this secret, you thought for a little bit and realised you might have already found out── that he likes yoonchae. so that 'yo' was never supposed to sound close to 'you'... wow, how depressing.

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yexthiccxa · 3 days ago

Text

Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 4)

summary: choso invited you over for dinner (part 3) and he's serving appetizers, dinner, and dessert 👅 smut with a little angst on top

wordcount: 3.5k words

full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms

a/n: let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this!

Tumblr Master List | Read this chapter on AO3!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Choso guides you to the table, pulling out a chair to offer you a seat. “Please, sit,” he says, his voice soft.

He heads over to the oven to pull out a couple dishes. “What’s on the menu for tonight, chef?” you ask playfully.

“For starters, we have roasted garlic and herb bread.” He sets down one tray with a graceful retrieving the next. The smell immediately makes your mouth water. “For dinner, we have baked chicken and pesto risotto.”

Before he makes his way around the table to sit down he leans in close to whisper in your ear. “And for dessert,” he adds, a smirk curling at his lips, “I’ll be having you.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before taking his seat.

You roll your eyes for show, but there’s no hiding the smile that’s tugging across your face. “You didn’t listen to a single thing I said back there, did you?”

Choso’s expression is calm, but there’s a flicker of playfulness in the way he looks at you. “Don’t worry, every word was crystal clear—boundaries, keep it clean, no work, no apartments… after tonight.” Emphasis on after tonight.

You hate how he’s right. But deep down you didn’t really want him to be wrong.

The tension between you settles into a strange, quiet understanding.

Dinner is nothing short of incredible. Each bite you take is a perfect blend of flavors that dance on your palate. The chicken is tender with a crisp, savory crust. The pesto risotto is rich and creamy, and the roasted garlic bread has just the right amount of bite. You take a moment to close your eyes just to fully appreciate the depth of the flavors before shifting your attention back to Choso.

As he talks throughout the meal, your focus remains entirely on him. You notice how his face lights up when he talks about his team. There’s pride in his voice when he shares how his team was built from the ground up and how he held them together when the acquisition almost tore them apart.

And then there’s the way he listens. He holds your hand across the table, his thumb brushing slow, thoughtful circles against your skin as you share your most successful projects. When you open up about your struggles with Naoya, he squeezes your hand because he knows that name makes you wince. It’s gentle but firm and his silent way of telling you that he’s there for comfort.

It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to make your heart stumble.

But what you can’t get over is the way he looks at you. It’s a look of desire, yes, but it’s layered with something deeper—an unspoken curiosity. It’s as if he wants to make you whole, piece by piece. He wants to know what drives you, what broke you, and why you’re so hesitant to let someone in. He doesn’t say it, but you see it in his deep brown eyes: I want to know you.

You could tell Choso everything—all the answers to all the unasked questions. But you can’t bring yourself to share. You’ve let yourself open up before, let yourself get too comfortable, but all it did was lead you to heartbreak. And with Choso, you’re starting to recognize this feeling all too well. It’s a dangerous path. The kind of path that you aren’t ready to walk again.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Choso cuts in.

Wait. Were you just thinking out loud? The thought startles you, but you shake it off quickly, masking your expression as you pick up the empty dishes and head for the kitchen. “Nothing’s going on,” you say, your voice just a little too breezy. “We should clean up.”

Choso follows silently and you feel his hand on your shoulder. You’ve come to recognize the comfort his touch brings, though you’re not sure that’s a good thing.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he says quietly, his voice gentle but firm, “but I can see something’s wrong. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but can you at least let me know what would make it better?”

You hesitate. He’s too perceptive. The thought that he might already know what’s bothering you makes you uneasy. Instead of answering, you deflect. “How can you tell if something is wrong?”

A small grin tugs at his lips, lightening the heaviness between you. “I run a team that thrives under efficiency. It’s my job to know when something’s off.”

His confidence earns a soft laugh from you, and you take the opportunity to lighten the mood. You turn, placing the dishes in the sink before reaching out to playfully poke his chest. “While I’m impressed by your attentiveness, I don’t appreciate being managed like I’m one of your direct reports.” you tease, trying to regain some ground.

He brings himself closer to you. “Well, I did mention that being under me wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, remember?”

“Thanks for the reminder, but what did we say about keeping work life separate?” When you finally glance up at him, you are at a loss for words.

Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of just how tall he is, how close he’s standing. The warmth of him radiates through his shirt, and in a split second, you’re reminded of the muscles that lie beneath. Your heartbeat stutters as the moment stretches on just a little too long. You look away to hide the tint of pink flowing to your cheeks.

Choso doesn’t let you slide. Instead he gently places his fingers under your chin, catching you as you turn away. “The same thing we said about everything else.” He leans in close until you’re inches away from each other. “All of that starts after tonight.”

There’s no harm in one night, right?

Everything around you stands still. The only thing you can think of is the fire building between you, and the inevitability of what’s about to happen.“Better make it count,” you reply.

That’s all Choso needs before he makes his move.

You can tell he tries his best to show restraint, but the way Choso cups the back of your head to bring his lips to yours shows you anything but that. Every ounce of composure has completely shattered. His movements become demanding, hungry, starving. He’s kissing you like he’s savoring the way you taste. It’s as if he’s been deprived for years.

He moves his hands down your sides to firmly grip your waist and set you on the counter, causing the container of utensils to crash against the backsplash. The movement rolls your head back, giving him the perfect access to the delicate skin on your neck.

The way he has his mouth on you sends a shock of excitement straight to your core. It’s like his lips are taking care of you in all the right ways. Every breath that hits your skin is a reminder of how much he wants you.

You release a quiet moan as he kisses his way down and slides off a strap of your dress. Deja vu hits when you find your breast exposed and his mouth on your nipple. But this time, it’s nowhere near enough. He’s desperate to have all of you.

“Oh—fu, Choso.”

Hearing you say his name triggers something in him—something primal, something feral. He doesn’t miss a beat as he places his hands around your ass to slide you into him. Seconds later, he hooks his arms under you until you’re straddling his waist.

Choso carries you over to his room while your hands begin to tangle in his hair. Something about this moment seems effortless. Well, actually everything about Choso seems effortless. It’s one of the qualities that keeps you wanting more—and right now is no exception. You crave him—his touch, his taste, the heat of his skin against yours.

As Choso sets you on the bed, you pull up the edges of his shirt over his head—revealing an intricate string of tattoos from his shoulder to his bicep. Fuck—as if you couldn’t be anymore attracted to him than you are now.

He finds your mouth once again and reaches his arm around your back to unzip your dress, slipping it down and tossing it to the floor.

Choso takes a moment to study every single curve of your body. “God, I never want to forget how beautiful you look. I think it’ll be forever ingrained in my mind.”

As he unlatches his belt and takes off his pants, you memorize every muscle—from his arms, to his abs and everything down below. The sight before you helps you piece together every memory you had of him from Friday night. Remembering how good he felt turned you on, but finally seeing the man who made it happen has you instantly soaked between your thighs.

The hunger in your eyes takes over you causing you to grab his arm and pull him down to you. You feel a sense of security knowing that his body is pressed up against yours. “Choso, I want you,” you breathe out.

A devilish smile forms before he pins your wrists to the bed. “It seems you have a reputation for being a bit hasty.” He buries his face into your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth. “I still have to return the favor.”

You arch your back as his mouth trails down your sides and eases off your panties. The feeling of his breath tickles your sex. He doesn’t go directly for your center, but instead begins to kiss around it. Your desperation turns into all out torture.

Choso places his lips onto your clit, causing shivers to shoot through your spine. “I promise we’ll get there, my love. But first, all you need to do is…relax.”

The hushed vibration of his tone lingers between you two, but before you know it, the wetness of his tongue sinks into you. He buries his tongue as deep as he can go before slurping up all the juice you have hidden inside.

A string of curses leave your lips. “F—Cho. Oh my god.”

“Mmm, you taste even better than the first night we met.” he moves to your clit and teases you with his tongue. All you want in this moment is for him to lap up all the wetness between your leg, but instead he toys with you—what a fucking sadist.

“Choso, please” you whisper.

He gently lifts to speak, his tone is laced with a mischievous charm. “Please what? I can’t hear you.”

Your shallow breaths leave you dizzy. “I want your tongue on me.”

His voice drops lower, leaving you intoxicated by the sound. “That’s it. Beg for it, princess.”

“Choso, please—”

He hears your calling and rewards your pleading by letting his tongue massage your clit. The feeling causes you to twitch. His tongue is hot, wet, and renders you completely silent—well, except for the faint moans that leave your lips.

As he continues his rhythm, you feel your body sizzle with heat. Your breath becomes short and labored as he grips your thighs. With your skin being so delicate you wouldn’t be surprised if he left bruises that would surely last for days.

Choso’s movements intensify and your fingers instinctively twist into the sheets beneath you. When they frantically search for something to hold onto, you know you’re almost at your peak.

“Fuck Choso, I’m so close—” you cry.

Choso keeps his pace and his final stroke sends you over the edge.

The coil within you unwinds as you tilt your head back to let the pleasure soak in. The endless feeling of peaks and valleys radiate from your core into the rest of your body. It’s like a rippling current of fire sweeps under your skin. Your body tenses until the last bit of ecstasy squeezes out of you.

Choso definitely made good on his promise, you’ll give him that. “We can call it even—consider your debt paid,” you say as your body relaxes, sinking into the sheets.

He gives you no time to react. Instead, he opens the drawer of his nightstand and takes out a condom. “Well then, I guess it’s time to start a new tab.” He leans back over to give you a quick kiss. “Now that you’re here, I have no intention of letting this end anytime soon.”

You watch him roll a condom onto his shaft, stunned by how big he truly is. You remember feeling him stretch you from the inside out, but seeing it with your own eyes is a different kind of euphoric. Choso is the type of big you’ve only dreamed about. Between that, his muscles, the tattoos, and his gorgeous face, it feels like this man has it all. And now you were going to have all of him.

“Why don’t you show me that pretty little pussy again?”

You open up your legs and slide one hand down the middle, spreading yourself wide open.

Choso’s eyes go wide. He’s never seen anyone as stunning as you. He’s hypnotized beyond his control, and he can’t bring himself to fight it—not that he’d want to.

He eases his way into you, causing a moan to escape your lips. Sliding into you was easy, but adjusting to his size was a different story—a deliciously painful one at that. If he was a sadist, you were a masochist, like a match fucking made in heaven.

“Fuck me—” Choso grits out. “So. goddamn. Tight.”

The feeling of him breaking you open feels like pure bliss. It’s like nothing else matters except you, Choso and the connection that was never meant to be broken.

His movements are steady but rhythmic. They start off gentle, but once he’s had enough to coat his whole length, the sound of his hips pounding into you begins to fill the room. Every thrust gets deeper and your moans only grow louder.

In. Out.

Just when you think he’s had his fill, Choso picks you up to claim you in every part of his room. He presses you up against the wall. When you try to take back control he has you bent over his desk. No spot is safe when it comes to demolishing every last bit of you—and you’re loving every second of it.

After pounding into you for what feels like hours, he returns you back to the bed. You’re exhausted but your hands still try to grab hold of something, anything—just so you can find a way to center yourself while he has you in a frenzy. They finally dig into his back and weave through his hair as if it's the only way to stay steady while he ravages you.

“You feel so ….fucking good …inside me.” you struggle to get out with every push. “Fuck—yes, Choso.”

Choso loves how you sound when he drills his way inside of you. When he sees you on the brink of unraveling, he picks up one of your legs and places it on top of his shoulder before pressing into you. This time it’s harder. This time he’s going faster. And this time, he’s slamming into a spot that has you hitting notes you’ve never hit before.

“Let me hear you, beautiful.” he purrs as he locks his gaze onto yours. “Let the whole fucking world hear.”

Just when you think Choso couldn’t make you feel any better, he takes his thumb and presses it into your clit—massaging it to match his pace. He moves in circles, hitting every spot in perfect sync. He has the hands of an artist and the touch of a god—this man will truly be the death of you.

“Just—just like that. I think…” you pant.

You don’t need to finish your sentence, because he already knows. “Yes baby girl, do it. Come all over me.”

“Choso, I want you to—”

When he looks down to you, you see an intoxicating mix of lust and sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m right there with you.”

His acknowledgement is all you need to push you past your limit. You explode into a throbbing mess and it doesn’t take long for Choso to follow.

“Fu- fuck—god. That feels—” he roars as his dick pulsates in you.

Your cheeks flush at the thought of him finishing inside you. The only thing that would make it better if it were raw instead.

Your orgasm this time feels as good as the last one, if not better. As your body stiffens, every nerve is on high alert. The surge of desire races through your veins, sending a shock of electricity through your body. When you begin to settle, your breath slows down, a contrast to the rapid pounding of your own heartbeat.

One final breath and Choso puts his arm around you, holding you close while his fingers trail through your hair. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, his voice warm and soothing.

You want to respond, but your body has other plans. The feeling of his touch comforts you as you nuzzle closer and close your eyes. You fight the urge to flutter your lids, but the exhaustion begins to creep in despite your best efforts.

“Fantastic—,” you murmur, but even as you say it, you feel yourself dozing.

Choso kisses your forehead, his arms tightening around you. Being with him feels like a rush of pure, unfiltered joy where the world is impossibly right and there’s nothing that can go wrong.

You wish this was everyday life. But deep down inside, you know that it doesn’t work like that. It can’t work like that. It never works like that.

Stop, you tell yourself. Not tonight.

You push those reservations aside for another day.

✦✧✸✧✦

Choso lies still, feeling the weight of you in his arms. He debates whether he should wake you up or not so he can drive you home—after all, you both still have work tomorrow. But when he glances down and sees the peaceful look on your face, he hesitates. You look so comfortable, so safe.

Selfish, he thinks. I’m selfish for wanting you to stay.

He lets out a sigh. The idea of forcing you into the cold night and dealing with the weight of responsibility, feels like an unnecessary cruelty—for both of you. He takes a chance and decides he can take you home early in the morning with more than enough time for you to get ready. The thought of stealing a few more hours with you, even if it’s just to sleep is hard to resist.

Carefully, he slips his arm out from under you, moving with deliberate caution to avoid waking you. Once free, he stands and surveys the aftermath of the evening. Clothes are everywhere, the food is still out—everything is a chaotic mess but he doesn’t care because he made it with you. He picks up your clothes, setting everything neatly in one place. Then, with the same care, he moves to the kitchen to clean up the remnants of dinner—the half-empty wine glasses, the abandoned plates. He moves with quiet purpose, giving himself something to do as his mind races.

What am I doing? He wonders, putting away the remaining set of dishes.

You are everything he wants but someone he can’t have, unless you let him. You’re a strong, beautiful, and intelligent woman. But he can see it: even though you make an effort to try, you’re guarded, hesitant, as if afraid this could become something more.

Choso feels the invisible walls you’ve put up. He isn’t sure if it’s out of caution or traces of something deeper, but it makes him tread lightly. Yet here you are, asleep in his bed, and he can’t deny how badly he wants to be with you, to know you.

Once the mess is cleaned, Choso gets ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing his face to cool the heat still lingering in his body.

He checks his phone and sets an alarm for 6 a.m. Hopefully that’ll be enough time to get you home before you need to start the day. As he slips back under the covers, he scoots closer to you and rests his hand on the curve of your hip. He closes his eyes, letting the rhythm of your breathing lull him to sleep.

✦✧✸✧✦

It’s 6:00am and the deafening sound of his alarm shatters the silence. Choso groans, blindly reaching out to shut it off. He rolls over instinctively, his arm seeking the familiar warmth of your body—but there’s nothing.

His eyes snap open. The sheets are rumpled but empty.

Sitting up, he glances around the room. Your clothes, your shoes—they’re gone. He grabs his phone, but there are no calls, no messages— nothing. The truth hits him like a cold gust of air.

No apartments after tonight, Choso reminds himself. He immediately dreads the fact that the night has ended and another day begins.

Choso drops back onto the bed, the empty space beside him feeling heavier now.

Everything now is crystal clear—there’s clearly a path you want to take. And while he wants to join you, he’s starting to question if he’s ready to follow.

taglist: @jud3thedude @makingtimemine @chosslut @liiiacke @trishiepo0 @celestialforce

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso x reader #choso x you #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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perseephoneee · 2 days ago

Text

secret santa [ficmas day 12] [stiles stilinski x afab!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

@mayfieldss: Since you're extending ficmas may I request stiles stilinski and secret santa plssssss

author's note: my boyfriend said that if teen wolf had modern slang it would be one of the worst things he'd ever watch

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

christmas caller -- beach bunny

santa, can't you hear me -- kelly clarkson & ariana grande

"Why did Lydia think this was a good idea?" Stiles groaned, opening the 'Secret Santa email.' Scott was sitting on his bed doing homework while Stiles debated the merits of ignoring the email.

"Because she says this is cheaper than us all having to get gifts for each other."

Stiles ignored that comment and opened the email to receive his assignment. He could think of a few different ideas for the various people in his life. Scott was easy; they were best friends. Isaac could get an embroidered scarf that said, 'I'm bitter for no reason.' Derek could get a new personality, although Stiles didn't know how much that would cost.

He watched the wheel spin on the automated Secret Santa email, and against his best wishes, he got your name.

"No, no, no," Stiles kept trying to refresh the page, hoping for a different answer. Scott looked up in personality, getting off the bed to see his screen. He started laughing when he saw your name.

"You're screwed."

"This is awful!" Stiles spun around in his chair. "I can't get the girl I like a gift; she's going to hate it."

"Probably."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're not helpful?" Stiles looked at Scott, raising his brow. Scott patted him on the shoulder. Stiles hit his shoulder, and it quickly devolved into a wrestling match with Stiles in a headlock and Scott getting kicked in the face. Sheriff Stilinski entered a second later. He took one look at the scene and left a second later.

After Stiles lost in wrestling, they ended up at the mall. They agreed that it was the most likely place to find a gift. Scott had to shop for Isaac, which Stiles was weirdly envying at this moment.

"Okay, we're going to split up. Meet in an hour at the food court."

"For food?"

"Yes," Stiles sighed. "And to check progress."

"But also for food?" Scott questioned. "I've been craving a corndog."

"Scott, I need you to lock in," Stiles groaned. He had been staring out at the bright expanse of the mall and was already developing a migraine. "We have a mission."

"You have a mission," Scott nudged Stiles with his shoulder. "I'm doing fine."

"I really hate you," Stiles muttered as Scott took off towards whatever he smelled. Likely a pretzel. He was strangely food-motivated.

Stiles checked out Bath and Body Works first, but after feeling like he would pass out from the smells, he elected to leave. He wandered into a Brandy Melville and got offended by the sizing (or lack thereof). He then sat on a bench outside the darkest clothing store he'd ever seen. Just as Stiles wished for divine intervention, Lydia came into sight. She beelined over to him immediately.

"Do I want to know why you're here?" she asked, arms crossed. Stiles squinted up at her.

"Because of your stupid Secret Santa and my stupid assignment," Stiles said, sinking further into his bench. Lydia sat down next to him.

"You got Y/N, didn't you?"

"How–"

"I know things," Lydia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Stiles glared at her. She crossed her legs, looking over at Stiles. "I'm going to help you because you make me sad."

"Thanks."

"What have you thought of so far?"

Stiles pondered for a second.

"A sexy candle."

"Okay, I'm going to say no to that immediately," Lydia opened her purse, grabbed out a lipgloss, and reapplied it. Stiles had no idea why she needed to reapply it. "Let's go look around at a few places."

Stiles wished for Scott in that moment. Scott didn't stress him out to no end. Lydia dragged him to eleven different stores and shot down almost all of his ideas. He was ready to quit, move to a different state, and change his name in order to avoid disappointing you at Secret Santa. You were too important to him to disappoint. Right as Stiles' legs started hurting, he saw one store that gave him pause.

"I'm going in there," Stiles announced, ignoring Lydia's protests. It was a traditional gift store with various accessories, gag gifts, home decor, and more. He avoided the seasonal aisle and the stupid kitchen towels with quotes on them to make a beeline for the kids' section, specifically the stuffed animal section.

He saw a floppy Snoopy and pulled it off the top shelf. Stiles showed Lydia.

"What do you think?" Stiles asked. He was out of breath from his quick run into the store. "She loves Snoopy; she mentions it whenever there's a Snoopy thing."

Lydia smiled, taking the Snoopy from him. She gave it a few squishes for good measure.

"It's perfect; nice job, Stiles."

"Thank you," Stiles beamed. He tossed the Snoopy back and forth between his hands. "Who did you get for Secret Santa?"

"Derek."

"Just get him a new personality."

"I hope you know that both you and Y/N said that," Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles grinned, moving to the cash register to buy his Snoopy. He paid a little extra to get it wrapped (he can't wrap it for his life) and skipped out of the store. Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time, guessing he should probably be catching back up with Scott. He, of course, ran into you at that exact moment.

Literally ran into it.

"Hey, Stiles," you laughed, catching him by the shoulders. His cheeks burned red as he saw who it was.

"Hey!" he grimaced. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same as you, Secret Santa shopping," you shrugged. He liked whatever you did with your hair today. However, Stiles has always loved whatever you did. You eyed the bag in his hand. "Did you get something already?"

"Yeah…I had help from Lydia," Stiles scratched the back of his neck.

"I'll see you around, Stilinski," you punched his shoulder, running off to who knows where. Stiles was still frozen in place a second later. He shook himself out of his stupor, immediately running to the food court to look for Scott.

Scott and Stiles showed up in matching ugly Christmas sweaters to Lydia's Secret Santa party. They were very proud that they found not one but two of them at Goodwill and felt it was a theme to show up in. Lydia was not amused.

She almost refused to let them in.

Stiles was excited to see that you were already there. You had on sparkly tights and a sweater dress, and Stiles was once again struck by the thought that you were the prettiest girl in the room. He suddenly felt very stupid in his sweater. You took notice as he approached.

"Oh, that's hilarious," you laughed, reading his top. It had all the reindeer decorating the tree on top of each other, saying 'Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, on top of Vixen.'

"That's what I thought. Lydia disagrees," Stiles sat down next to you. You curled up your legs underneath you.

"Lydia is stressed about the party."

"She throws the best parties; why is she stressed?" Stiles saw a platter of cookies out on the coffee table and took one for himself. He offered you half.

"Probably because you have to constantly be stressed to throw the best parties." You accepted half of his cookie.

"Touche."

Stiles was gleeful that he could talk to you until the present reveals started. Everyone else showed up, and at forty-five minutes past the hour, Lydia called everyone to attention to exchange gifts. Suddenly, Stiles felt very nervous.

It was easy for him to get caught up in everyone else's excitement and forget about his own doom, so when he received his gift (some nice plaid shirts from Allison), he got all clammy as he handed you yours. Your eyes lit up as you saw the bag.

"I knew it was for me," you whispered, recognizing the bag from the mall. Stiles shrugged, wringing his hands. You unwrapped it carefully and then let out a squeal of delight as you saw the Snoopy. Stiles let out a sigh of relief.

"I know you love Snoopy."

"Not just any Snoopy, Joe Cool Snoopy," you grinned, hugging the plush to your chest. "He's really cool."

"That's why they call him Joe Cool," Stiles answered. Lydia gave him a subtle nod from the other side of the room. Everyone else got to open their gifts, which is when Lydia brought out the champagne she stole from her Mom's stash. Very quickly, everyone got a pleasant buzz that only made the conversation louder. You nudged Stiles and gestured towards the kitchen, Snoopy still in hand. He followed after you.

You launched yourself at him as soon as you got in the kitchen.

"The gift is perfect," you mumbled, voice blocked by his shirt. Stiles thought you smelled like peppermint. You pulled away to look at him. "Thank you."

"A-Anything for you," Stiles stuttered, struck by how close you guys were. You didn't seem to notice or mind.

"I have a gift for you."

"You didn't get me in Secret Santa," Stiles asked, confused. You just shook your head.

"A gift of my own volition."

You leaned up and kissed him, lips still tasting of champagne. Stiles could do nothing but melt into you. He was dumbstruck when you parted.

"Merry Christmas, Stiles," you hummed. Stiles grinned, kissing you again.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf fics #my writing #ficmas #ficmas 2024

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seokminfilm · 1 day ago

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one and only | lee seokmin

pairing, lee seokmin x reader

warnings, non-idol au, sports au, light themes of hurt/comfort, seokmin is a college baseball player, reader is mentioned to be a coach, reader is mentioned to be wearing an athletic skirt, secret relationship

Lee Seokmin was a household name on your campus⎯Seoul University's Daesung Dalmations took pride in their captain, and you did too, smiling from the sidelines as the crowd cheered the team's name.

The sun was beaming down on the massive baseball field, stands filled from spectatiors from all around Seoul and the surrounding cities. Sure, the headmaster said the turn out was going to be a bit bigger than most of the usual varsity games, but "a bit bigger" was a massive understatement. The bleachers were packed with people and children, the roar of their cheers shaking the dugout.

"Seokmin, keep a level head! Don't overthink anything!" You clapped your hands from the shaded box, hoping the eager male would calm down and slow his roll.

You knew Seokmin better than anyone did, and you knew how he seemed to feel emotions ten times stronger on the field. You could tell he was starting to get worked up by the dark look in his eyes, dark eyebrows furrowed as he talked to himself quietly and watched the pitcher recieve the ball from another player.

Sweat dripped from his dark hair and down his broad back as the sun caught his tanned skin, and you could see him clenching the baseball bat from your vantage point, forearms strained and veins highlighted as he gripped it with a force.

"Dino, get ready to pitch next. Seokmin is going to need to calm down in a few minutes," Your voice was commanding, and the new rookie, Dino, jumped into place, ready to follow your directions. The pitcher stretched his arms to get ready to pitch, and you clenched your whistle to your chest, nervous as you watched Seokmin slide his feet into his usual stance.

The crowd was quiet as the air became thick with anticipation, and you leaned over the edge of the dugout box, chewing at your lip as the pitcher wound his arm up and threw the ball.

Seokmin reacted the best he could, giving it a harsh swing as it flew into the air⎯the ball disappeared into the sky for a split second, and the crowd went wild as Seokmin sprinted to second base, long legs striding across the dirt before a whistle signaled the end of his run.

Just as Seokmin had slid onto his base, one of the opposing team's players caught the ball and returned it to second base, counting Seokmin out for the next play.

The stands erupted with clapping, but Seokmin didn't react, walking towards the dugout box with a harsh look on his pretty features. His face was red and doused in sweat, but it still gave him a glow that you thought was ethereal in nature.

His brown eyes didn't light up once his teammates came to greet and congratulate him, and you asked them all with a plead of your eyes to leave you two alone, to which they did without hesitation.

Seokmin pushed his way out of the dugout, nearly pulling the door off of the hinges as he went into the darker part of the storage. You followed after him, telling him to calm down as his eyes started to water.

"Seokmin, calm down. You did amazing out there." Your voice was calm and quiet, and Seokmin couldn't help but push you away, fighting you as you tried to grab his hands. He pulled away from you quickly, averting his eyes as he looked back onto the field.

"No, I didn't. I could have hit that ball farther, and I know it! Did you see how easy they retrieved it? It was like I didn't even try." Seokmin's voice was booming, sending goosebumps to your sun-stained arms as you crossed them.

"Seokmin, you did try. That was a wonderful play! You gave us a three-point lead during your time on the field. That's what we needed from falling behind. Dino and the others are going to help bring us up so when you return to bat, you'll be more than ready to win it for us." Exasperated, you tapped your foot against the concrete floor.

Seokmin ignored you, taking his baseball cap off as his dark hair fell around his ears gracefully. He ran a hand through it, sending the curls in a frenzy as he sighed, breath shaking with the rising wave of anger bubbling in his chest.

Your fingers itched to reach out and touch him⎯taking his slender hands in yours as you kiss his mumbling lips and sour thoughts away⎯but you remember you had to keep it professional.

You had to keep you and Seokmin's relationship professional, unuspecting to the public eye.

"Seokmin, please, calm down and get a hold of yourself. We need you back on the field whenever we need a mood booster. You're the only one who can do that." Your voice is shaky as you try to get Seokmin to look at you, but it's unsuccessful as he continues to look off to the side, sharp nose and strong jawline defined from the clenching of his jaw.

"Seokkie.." You were crossing the boundaries now, and you knew it, but you didn't know what else to do. Your hand rested on his upper thigh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek as he froze, turning to face you as his eyes softened a bit.

"Don't be hard on yourself, alright? You did the best you could, and you gave us a lead against the other team. Just rest for now. You've done all you could." There you go again, using that tone you only saved for times you and Seokmin were alone on the field, practicing into the late night. The only thing watching you was the massive stadium lights and empty bleachers, and you could hear your laugh echo when Seokmin did something unserious or kissed you after a sucessful home run.

Sighing, Seokmin's chest fell as he nodded slowly, hands finding their way around your waist as his sweaty body pressed into yours.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, breath brushing your ear as you brought a hand up to his sweaty face, sliding your finger down his sculpted nose as he sighed, smiling under your ministrations. He closed the distance between you, lips teasing yours before the door to the storage room bumped open.

The surprising sound caused both you and Seokmin to jump as far back from each other as you could, and you nearly tripped over a bag of baseball bats as the ballboy of your team interrupted you and Seokmin's little moment.

"Seokmin, we need you out there. We're three points behind and it's the last inning." His voice was worried, and Seokmin nodded, seemingly pepping himself up as he shook his shoulders, glancing at you with a blush on his face.

"Later." Seokmin had mouthed, and the look in his eyes told you everything he meant by that. Smiling, you nodded as you fixed his baseball jersey's collar. After a few seconds of silence and shared glances between you and Seokmin, he stepped backwards, ready to go.

"Right, well...I should get back out there." You laughed nervously as Seokmin finished his observation, making his way back into the dugout and out on the field as you followed after him, heart beating a mile a minute as your athletic skirt billowed in the warm breeze.

The stands were voluminously charged with the familiar excitement it was charged with when Seokmin was up to bat, and you smiled as the calm look in Seokmin's eyes met yours, glancing back at the box as he walked up to the base.

Seokmin was the one and only to you, and you were more than ready to see that one and only take your team to victory.

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defuckingthrone-dot-com · 2 days ago

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Haven’t been very active the last few days, I really had a shitty week, and right now I’m very hung over and I still have 6 more hours of work 🫠

But I’m bringing you this Thot so you can forgive me 🥹

Imagine your very fucking excited to see Bad Omens for the very first time, you got supper early to the venue just so you can assure you got a spot right in front of the stage.

Right as you where grabbing a hold of the barricade due to people pushing around the lights turned off for a moment and you can hear the soft rumble of the speakers around before the big intro.

the show progressed and you honestly thought that you where on cloud nine getting to expirience it live. But you also noticed how Noah kept stealing glances your way, at one point he kneeled down on the stage right in front of you and you could feel his stare burning into your skin.You thought nothing at first, maybe he was trying to connect with the general crowd around you. As the songs went on, you continue to vibe with everyone around you and have a great time, It was almost near the end of the show, and the very last song to be played is Just Pretend, you could hear the very familiar melody of the first few seconds of the song as it was one of your favorites. Noah’s voice sounded magical with new arrangement made for this live version to be played. You couldn’t stop starring him and you could of swore he was looking at you too and he might of even given you a wink.

As the song died down it was time to finally go home, before you could get out of the venue one of the security guys approached you and said someone needed to speak with you. He led you down into a hall where at the end where the green rooms at the venue. Once he reached the door desired he knocked on it and heard someone called in from within saying to come in.

As soon as you entered the room you saw him standing there just looking your way. Noah called out for? You couldn’t believe it, it was becoming all too surreal. He introduced himself as if you didn’t already know he was one of the biggest musicians in the metal scene at the moment.

You both sat on the sofa on the back end of the room, it started with just a very mild get to know me conversation but now? Now you where both moaning each other name and could barely catch a breath. Bodies covered in sweat, hot, head spiraling into the ecstasy of both your climax.

Both of you held a little secret that no else knew though; you were no strangers at all but you both loved the feeling and thrill of meeting like strangers every night. The roleplaying of rockstar and fan( maybe even a groupie) kept the flame of your relationship with Noah burning with passion and desire

A/N: here’s the little thot in my head I was talking about earlier, I hope yall enjoy xx.

#noah sebastian #thots 🔥#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah thots

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cottonlemonade · 1 day ago

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Secret Santa

word count: 1153 || avg. reading time: 5 mins

pairing: University AU!Ennoshita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: Hello 💖💖💖 At breakfast and lunch I'll get a 15 and 34 and then going back to study with Ennoshita, please??? Thank you 💖 || fluffy, crush to boyfriend Ennoshita, being part of the same club and celebrating Christmas together

There were pros and cons to spending Christmas abroad. The pros were that your family understood that shipping presents to them as a student would cost way too much so you agreed to only exchange cards this year - you had handmade yours and posted them weeks ago so they would arrive on time and could now bask in the unhurried coziness of late-December. Furthermore, Christmas in Japan was considered a couple’s holiday meaning you didn’t have to wistfully watch all your fellow students rush home over winter break to stuff themselves with all the holiday classics. But the lack of ever-present, sickeningly sweet merriment was also your main con.

You loved Christmas and wanted to get into the spirit and thus, after ditching your drama troupe at the convenience store, you snuck back into the campus theater on Friday afternoon to decorate before the premiere on Christmas Eve.

In your opinion, the bottom of the stage as well as the crammed backstage space was definitely in need of some paper garlands and maybe a bauble or two - or twenty.

“There you are.”

You spun around, your chubby fingers tangled in some fairy lights, and saw your stage manager Ennoshita walk down the aisle towards you.

“I was wondering where you hurried off to so suspiciously.”

You gave a playful pout and continued fiddling with a knot in the cable that somehow only seemed to make it worse.

“Please don’t make me take it down. I’ve come too far.”

He chuckled and shrugged off his backpack and jacket to set on a seat, then rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and looked at you with the same expectantly lost expression you usually gave him when you forgot your place.

You handed him a box of tinsel and he got to work.

“So, why the sudden need to Winter Wonderland the stage? Are you homesick?”

Leave it to him to read you like a book.

“Yeah. Kinda. But I dunno, it’s less homesickness than more… general… nostalgic yearning, if that makes sense.”

He nodded as he distributed strings of gold all along the green garlands.

“I’ve never left Japan and I don’t even know what it would feel like to miss my family since they live so close. Plus, I can’t imagine I would miss my little brother that much.”

His dry tone made you laugh.

“It’s more so that I miss the Christmas experience.”, you explained, “The food, the singing, the gift exchanging. Or going ice skating. I’ve never been but always wanted to. And then later listen to my mom and grandma gossip over a late-night cup of tea.”

You finally managed to free a few small light bulbs only to immediately encounter another knot.

“I was thinking of suggesting something cheesy like Secret Santa to the troupe but I didn’t want to pressure anyone. Plus, what if you get someone who you don’t like or even worse, someone you do like and then have to get them a super crappy gift so they don’t know that you’re into them.”

He cocked a brow. “Is that … is that a possibility?”

“Of course! We’re all one awkward yet iconic New Year’s party away from being the cast of High School Musical.”

“No, I meant, you like someone?”

For a split second you considered confessing to him right then and there that ever since you’d seen him goof off during dress rehearsals of the summer play you’d been drooling over those soft sweaters he wore and dreamily doodled his name into your notepads. But the fact that he was still busying himself with the tinsel and didn’t look at you with pining hopeful eyes made you think better of it. Realizing your pause had been going on for quite some time you opted for a simple No. And then ruined it immediately by adding, “Imagine how weird it would be if I was. Hello waiter, could I have a plate of sweet and spicy daydreams with a side of delusions, please? - hehe ahem. W-why do you ask? Do you like someone?”

“Yes, I do.”

On the one hand, you were grateful that apparently all the time you spent together already had made him immune to your ramblings but on the other hand that sounded a bit too casual and came out a bit too fast. You squinted at him.

“Uh huuuh, anyone I know? Is it someone in the club?”

He hesitated, then continued his task. “Yes and yes.”

“Oh okay, didn’t think you’d give that up so easily. Have you told them yet?”

He shook his head and you wouldn’t be you without giving unsolicited advice, “Well there’s no time like Christmas to do so, if you ask me. New Year’s break is coming up so even if it goes south - which it won’t unless they're an idiot - you don’t have to see them for a bit and can come back pretending like nothing ever happened. Foolproof.”

“Foolproof, huh?”, Ennoshita had reached the end of his tinseling and smiled at you, “I’ll think about it.”

The premiere a few days later was a smashing success and the applause kept on going for many extra curtain calls. When Ennoshita hurried on stage to receive his portion of cheers, he came to stand next to you, naturally grabbing your hand for a collective bow which sent tingles through your body. Filled with the rush of a job well done you only realized once you were backstage again that you were still holding his hand and dropped it like a hot potato.

“I’m sorry!”

He just smiled and shrugged. “No worries. You should go get changed so we can all head to dinner.”

“Yes! Yes. You’re right. Imma be so fast. Be right back.” And with that display of poise, you snatched your backpack and rushed to the bathrooms.

Other girls were already removing their stage makeup and applying new dewy lip gloss while you slipped into a stall to peel yourself out of your costume, relieved when you rolled the skintight overall past your squishy tummy and took your first deep breath in hours. When you opened the flap of your shoulder bag to get your clothes you saw a little box sitting on top, wrapped in red and green with a small golden bow. A tag hung from the knot that read - For Y/n, From Your Secret Santa. The relaxed chatter of the other bathroom occupants was drowned out by the pounding in your chest and your body practically vibrated from excitement. You sat on the lid of the toilet and curiously opened the gift to find a silver keychain with a pair of ice skates dangling from the end. A neatly written paper slip lay underneath.

Will you go out with me? was penned on it in a handwriting you were all too familiar with from your many many stage directions.

a/n: request for @ennoshitas-princess

Thank you so much for this fun holiday themed request! I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟 and merry Christmas!

#sunnys university #ennoshita x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #ennoshita x reader #ennoshita chikara #haikyuu ennoshita #ennoshita fluff

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cellythefloshie · 2 days ago

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;; A Secret for Christmas 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 from cellythefloshie

Summary: Katie had long abandoned trying to search for new romance, especially during the holiday season. But when her son’s teammate, Jeremy Swayman, joins them for the holidays, Katie can't ignore the memory of the night they once shared together in Boston a year prior. Will Jeremy’s persistence chip away at her defenses? Will Katie risk it all for a chance at a lust she never expected? Sequel to: Mama Bear. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (24 v. 41). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. Secret Hookup. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: Michael Provost. Boston Bruin's Forward. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 13k+ A/N: Another year has passed, and in almost that exact time, we return to Katie and Jeremy. I am not lying to you when I say that this fic has been planned since January. It has been a painful wait for me to have to wait to write/post this. For months I would return to my outline and read it with great excitement. I am so deeply satisfied to be able to finally share this with you all, and to have this fic be the last one I will write for 2024. (Though, a New Years fic has been queued, this is the last one I will be writing until 2025). I hope you're just as excited to return to Jeremy as I was! --- This fic was minimally edited.

Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas anywhere but home, Katie thought as she sat in bumper to bumper traffic, her hands wringing at the steering wheel. A symphony of honks sung their carols around her, but they went unheard as she daydreamed of home.

The stockings hung in their usual spots, their names stitched neatly in gold thread—hers and Parker’s. She could almost hear his small voice from when he was just a boy, asking if Santa would really know to leave presents if they didn’t have a chimney.

Every corner of her home was dusted with memories—Parker’s laugh echoing down the halls, the smell of cookies burning when she got distracted by Dottie and the kids in the living room, the way he used to shake the snow off his boots, leaving puddles by the door.

But this year, those memories were left behind, but not forgotten as Parker wasn't going to be able to come home for Christmas. The Bruins had a game the night before Christmas Eve, and they’d hit the road again just four days later. Katie had been forced to choose between the traditions she treasured and something new. As Stubborn as she was, there was never really a choice. She would always choose Parker.

The drive to the grocery store and back took nearly two hours—a journey that gave Katie plenty of time to dwell on Parker’s idea of a "family holiday." When he’d told her he’d rented a house big enough for everyone, she hadn’t asked many questions. She trusted her son. But that trust began to waver at 5 a.m. on the morning of her flight when Dottie showed up at her door with her husband and her kids all left waiting in their Escalade.

“Surprise!” Dottie had chirped, her tone almost too cheery to handle before a cup of coffee. But Katie smiled all the same. Having her best friend with her for the holidays, especially when she would have to deal with her ex, was a gift all in itself.

And the surprises didn’t end there.

For the entirety of the flight, Katie couldn’t fathom how Parker imagined cramming all eight of them into an Airbnb. But when the car pulled up to the property, Katie’s jaw dropped. This wasn’t some tiny apartment or cramped rental house. It was a sprawling villa, complete with a wide wraparound porch, floor to ceiling windows and twinkling lights that sparkled in the crisp winter air.

The beauty of the home still left Katie in awe as she pulled up in front of it for the second time. The driveway curved through a yard blanket edge by freshly fallen snow. Snow that crackled beneath the slow roll of the car's tires until they eased into a stop in front of the garage door. Katie leaned her back against the headrest, admiring how Christmas lights reflected off the snow capped roof. Smiling proudly at what Parker was able to accomplish, she turned slightly to look over at Dottie who sat in the passenger seat.

Her phone was out, her fingers tapping feverishly against her phone as she tried to finish the work assignment she had promised not to touch when the plane landed in Boston. Katie shook her head slowly, her smile growing wider. There were two things Dottie would be doing from the grave, her final work assignment and polishing off an expensive bottle of chardonnay. Because while she worked hard, Dottie played harder.

“You done?” Katie raised a brow up at her best friend, “because I'm not letting you touch it again once we get inside.”

Dottie was quiet for a moment, a small sigh rocking her shoulders before she let her eyes leave the bright glow of the phone screen.

“Alright, alright, I'm done enough,” Dottie assured, her thumbs hovering over the screen as if she wanted to write just one word more.

“Done enough?” Katie half laughed, “Last time I heard that I found you hiding in the bathroom at the twins hockey game.”

Dottie laughed, raising her hands up in mock surrender, “I promise you won't find me hiding this time. Work-free holiday starts as soon as we pop the wine.”

“Then I guess we should get inside and open up a bottle,” Katie smiled and watched as Dottie tucked her phone away in her purse to free up her hands. They had a lot to bring in, and they were both firm believers in taking all the groceries in one trip.

Fresh snow kissed Katie’s bare ankles as she stepped out of the car, the drifts spilling over her boots with every hurried step toward the front door. Dottie followed close behind, both of them cradling paper bags threatening to topple with each stride. A shiver climbed Katie’s spine as she stomped up the steps, rushing to the unlocked door she couldn’t open with her full hands.

Her boot met the door in three swift kicks, and as it swung open, a gust of warmth greeted her cold, rosy cheeks.

“Thank you,” she spoke in a sing-songy tone as she was met by Parker's smile that quickly faltered.

“Mom, you gotta stop doing this. You could have gotten me to help carry this in,” he pleaded with her, a single arm scooping on the bags from her hold. She hated it when he looked at her like that. Like she was frail. Incapable. Old.

“I'm forty-one Parker, not a hundred. I can still carry in the groceries. Besides, Dottie helped,” Katie spoke pointedly as she stepped out of her shoes and led the way into the large kitchen that was like it was out of a dream. From the dark green walls and ebony cabinetry to the stacked ovens complete with French doors, Katie was going to be the last to complain about having to cook nearly twelve meals for eight people over the three days they would be spending in the home.

“We've got more than enough hands here, Mom,” Parker continued as he placed the bag down on the marble countertops. “Between me and-”

His words were broken by the slamming of the front door. Katie's neck quickly snapped in the direction of the sound. They hadn't abandoned Dottie. She stood beside her, her arm already lost in the depths of the paper bag as she blindly searched for one of their bottles of wine. Her brows furrowed as she leaned over the counter, craning her neck to see who's heavy steps clunked over the hardwood floors.

Her face fell into a frown when her ex-husband, Ronnie, came into view, his winter boots and jacket still on and his arms carrying an array of luggage. Not once, during their twenty years of marriage, had he been so chivalrous as to carry her bags or help her with her groceries. Katie’s face fell into a sneer, there was no hiding it.

“Dad! You made it,” Parker smiled as he stepped away from the counter to meet his dad who struggled with the bags.

Monica strutted in behind them, her smile wide as she caught up with Ronnie. Her arms opened as she stepped towards Parker, taking her into an embrace he didn’t seem eager to return. Katie caught the tightness in Parker’s jaw, as he offered a half-hearted pat on her back. She knew he was trying–for Ronnie’s sake, if nothing else–but it was clear Monica hadn’t won him over.

“By what miracle were they not going to make it?” Katie mumbled under her breath to Dottie who turned and hid her smile in the fridge as she started to put the groceries away.

“Snow storm?” Dottie hummed.

“Plane crash,” Katie bit out, sending Dottie into a laughter she could not contain.

“So we’re not playing nice this weekend?” Dottie arched a brow, her voice laced with curiosity.

Katie smirked, her tone dry. “To their faces, sure.”

Dottie chuckled, shaking her head. “You know that makes you sound terrible, right?”

“There’s only so much fake smiling I can manage before I break something,” Katie said with a shrug.

With her back turned to the doorway, Katie worked with Dottie to fill the empty cupboards and the fridge with the groceries they bought from the store. Soon, the kitchen looked like someone called it home, and it was only the turkey left to put away. Cradling it in her arms, Katie opened the fridge, only to find another turkey sitting on the top shelf.

“We didn’t buy two turkeys did we?” Katie asked, her brows falling in confusion.

“No, we just got the big one,” Dottie confirmed, her one hand wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle as she searched for a bottle opener.

“Then what’s this?” Katie stepped to the side and did her best to gesture the turkey with her full hands.

Dottie shrugged, and Katie let out a sigh. Was it horrible that they had two turkeys? No, but it was making Katie question her sanity because it wasn’t in there when they left for the store.

“Parker? Where’d you get this other turkey?” She called out, but her son didn’t hear her. He no longer stood in the doorway with his father and Monica. He was lost somewhere in the house – probably showing them to their room - or maybe, he was the source of the laughter she could hear in the living room.

Placing the turkey down in the fridge next to the other, Katie closed up the fridge and followed the shill laughter of Dottie’s twins, and the thunder of footsteps against the hardwood floor. She walked through the entryway, her socks getting wet from the trail of her husband’s footprints. If she was still his wife, she would have nagged him to clean up the mess he had created, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t let his bad habits get to her over the holidays. Instead she walked right through them, leaving her own soggy footprints behind as she walked to the living room.

“Whoa,” her lips fell open in awe at the sight of the large Christmas tree that stood in the corner of the room, just to the right of the fireplace that blazed with the dance of fire. That hadn’t been there before they left either. Its branches were still free of ornaments, but the glimmer of white lights set it aglow.

“When did Parker have time for all of this?” Dottie gasped out from behind her, pushing past to stand with Brandon and Brayden who knelt on the floor, opening up the boxes of brand new ornaments.

“He didn’t,” Megan said, her voice drifting lazily from where she was curled up in an armchair by the fire. “Jeremy did.”

Katie’s attention snapped to the teenager, whose wistful gaze was fixed on the snow falling softly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The faint, dreamy sigh that followed spoke volumes. Katie didn’t need to ask—she recognized that tone all too well. But Katie couldn’t give herself time to dwell on it, her body had already gone still at the realization of what Megan had said.

Suddenly she was hot, sweating, with nerves as her stomach jumped up into her throat. She had to have heard her wrong. Megan hasn’t said Jeremy. She couldn’t have. Katie refused to believe it, it must have been her mind playing tricks on her.

“Where’s,” Katie's mouth was dry, and she paused, forced to swallow, “Megan, where’s Parker?”

“Upstairs with Uncle Ronnie,” Megan waved off, her eyes falling back to her book.

Katie moved quickly, taking the stairs two at a time despite her arms feeling heavy and her legs unsteady. The laughter from the living room faded as her pulse roared in her ears. When she reached the landing, she blindly collided with a solid figure.

Two strong hands caught her by the arms, steadying her before she could stumble back. Katie held her breath as she shut her eyes, praying to whoever would listen, that she had run into Parker, or for the first time in years, she wished that she had collided with her husband. But she knew it wasn’t either of them.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was holding her so carefully in place. She’d feel this touch before– gentle but firm, it was a comforting touch she’d never forgotten. On so many nights it had crept into her dreams, leaving her craving more but Katie had told herself she could never feel again.

“Mom!” Parker’s voice broke through her thoughts, his concern heavy as he came up behind the figure that still held her. “Are you okay?”

Katie swallowed hard, her mouth dry as she let herself look up. Jeremy towered over her with a soft smile, and just past him was her son.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she’d expected.

Jeremy’s hands lingered for just a moment longer before they fell away. She felt the absence of them instantly, the cool air of the house passing over her skin in the absence of his warmth.

“I just… Megan mentioned we had a guest?” Katie’s voice wavered, but she steadied it with a quick breath.

“Oh, yeah,” Parker said, his grin sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry mom. Sway’s staying with us for Christmas. I thought it would be okay.”

Katie blinked, her stomach tightening. Of course it wasn’t okay, but on the surface, she had to pretend that it was. Because if it wasn’t, Parker would ask why and Katie would never be able to answer him…

Jeremy spoke, his tone warm, “I brought an extra turkey, and set up the tree, anything else you need, Ms. Stacey, just let me know. It’s the least I could do.”

Katie’s legs pressed firm together as his words, suddenly feeling weak right through to her very core. To anyone else, it would have sounded like Jeremy was being kind, but Katie knew that anything truly meant anything.

“Thank you, Jeremy. That’s very thoughtful. If you’ll excuse me, I should start dinner.”

She descended slowly, her mind spinning. Each step felt heavier than the last, her composure threatening to slip as she reached the bottom.

Dottie was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. Her wide eyes met Katie’s as the twins chattered excitedly about the tree. No words passed between them, they didn’t need to, not when Katie’s eyes said it all.

Yes, this was Jeremy. The Jeremy she had slept with for just a year before. Back when he had been nothing more than a stranger to her– and before she discovered he was the goaltender for his son’s hockey team.

Dottie gave her a knowing look as she directed her twins towards the living room. “Go help Parker with the tree. Mom’s going to help Aunt Katie,” she said, falling into stride behind Katie.

They said nothing, the kitchen quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant laughter from the next room. Among them, she could hear Jeremy’s laugh, a sound Katie had once thought she would never hear again.

The bottle of wine thudded against the countertop as Dottie uncorked it with practiced ease. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t push, just poured two glasses and slid one into Katie’s waiting hand.

Katie wrapped her fingers around the glass, staring down at the swirling red liquid as if it could solve all her problems. Taking a long steady sip, Katie drowned her senses in the flavor of the sweet red wine and tried to ignore just how complicated her Christmas had become.

The warm glow of the chandelier above the dinner table bathed Katie in soft light as laughter and clatter of silverware filled the room. Brayden and Brandon, full of boundless energy, captivated everyone’s attention, and Katie couldn’t help but smile as she watched them. Christmas Eve was everything she had hoped for—a cozy, festive evening with her family, even if her definition of family included her ex-husband, his new wife, and her son’s teammate, Jeremy.

Despite the cheerful atmosphere that had fallen around the table, Katie couldn’t ignore the knot that tightened in her stomach. Jeremy’s presence, as he sat directly across from her, was both thrilling and unsettling. When he had joined them, he’d offered a soft smile, his voice low and warm as he spoke. “Everything looks great” he had said, and his gaze lingered just long enough to make her breath catch, before reaching for a dinner roll. Katie had nodded, a tight smile tugging at her lips, the brief exchange sending a ripple of warmth through her that she quickly tried to ignore. And she was thankful for his quiet demeanor. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t seem to push for conversation, and she appreciated that more than she expected.

Katie kept her attention on her plate, chewing slowly and forcing herself to smile when someone looked her way. Though, it was hard to ignore the site across the table. Megan had seated herself next to Jeremy, and was leaning in close to him as she spoke in a soft whisper. Whatever she had said, Katie couldn’t quite hear, and Jeremy responded with a polite but brief nod before returning his attention back to his plate. The poor girl was doing her best to get Jeremy’s attention, but it was already devoted to Katie, though she was trying to ignore that fact. She avoided looking directly at Jeremy, but when she did, his gaze was always there, steady, like he was waiting for her to look back. And when they did meet, they met briefly, Katie’s pulse hastening as she found herself glancing away quickly, as if caught off guard by his quiet intensity.

Instead of letting her eyes linger on Jeremy, she turned her gaze to Ronnie, seated at the head of the table, and Monica, who sat at his side, basking in the center of attention.

Monica’s voice rose about the rest, her stories even louder than the laughter of the twins as they were entertained by Jeremy. "Ronnie’s taking me to the Maldives after the holidays," she said, pushing her blonde hair with a casual toss. As she did, the light caught Monica’s oversized diamond ring, its glimmer flashing in Katie’s eyes.

Katie’s gaze flickered to her own left hand, tracing the memory of the simpler rings Ronnie had given her– the ones that were never as big, or never as extravagant as Monica’s. They hadn’t had the money for such luxuries, or for the kinds of trips Monica seemed to collect like trophies. Watching Ronnie’s lavish midlife crisis, and his new wife with all the things they never had, made Katie’s shoulders slouch forward. Choking back a sigh, she reached for the bottle of wine at the center of the table.

The motion drew Monica’s sharp eye, like an eagle flying high above her prey. Her voice cut through the hum of conversation. "We were so sad when you couldn’t come to the wedding, Katie," she said, her tone pitched just loud enough for everyone to hear. "It was such a beautiful ceremony. You would’ve loved it."

Katie’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile, her eyes darting briefly to Ronnie, hoping for some sign that he’d put a stop to it. "I’m sure it was lovely—" she began, but Monica didn’t let her finish.

With a flourish, Monica extended her arm across the table, wiggling her fingers. "Look how gorgeous this ring is," she said, her smile gleaming, "And this is just my travel ring."

Katies brows knit together as her jaw slacked. "Travel ring?" Her words faltered, her mind scrambling for a response. She looked from Monica’s beaming face, to Dottie–but there was also something pulling her attention toward Jeremy—his eyes on her again, his lips slightly parted as if he had something to say but was waiting for her to speak first.

Her heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise around her faded, leaving only the sensation of his gaze. Katie’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, before she pulled them away and looked to her ex husband with a pleading stare, silently begging him to get Monica to stop.

"Oh yes, isn’t it wonderful?" Monica beamed. "Ronnie is so thoughtful. But don’t worry, Katie. One day, someone will love you as much as he loves me."

The sudden crash of silverware on a plate made Katie flinch, and she turned to see Parker, his dinner abandoned, and his hand dropped to his side in two fists. He leaned forward, his voice thick with disgust. “You know who you’re fucking talking to right?”

Katie’s heart swelled with pride, but she quickly tamped it down though she wanted nothing more than to smile. She was so proud of him for so many things, but nothing made him prouder than this. She wanted to applaud him, but she couldn’t. Not now, not at Christmas when she needed everyone to get along. She shot him a soft look, her words a low but firm plea for calm, “Parker, language.”

Parker didn’t back down. “Mom seriously? She can’t say that kind of shit to you.”

He was right. Monica shouldn’t be saying anything like that. Not to her. No ever. The tensions between them were the highest they had been since they met, and it was clear that no amount of effort on Monica’s part would change that dynamic with Parker, not after everything.

“Mom,” Parker spoke insistently, waiting for his mother to say anything to defend herself.

Katie sighed and topped off her glass of wine, her gaze flickered briefly to her son. “She’s right Parker,” she said quietly. “She and your father are very much in love. It should be celebrated. Not all are so lucky to find love so late in their lives… or so early.” She punctuated the words with a long sip of wine, and from the other end of the table, Dottie’s soft laugh echoed through the tension.

As the laughter faded, so did the conversation and the table fell into silence. The clink of forks and knives returned, and any words said were exchanged in whispers. Katie’s chest tightened as she took another sip of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass a little too tightly. The sting of Monica’s words still lingered below the surface. Katie wasn’t sure what she had expected when she agreed to sitting down with everyone for dinner but it certainly wasn’t this– a cocktail of bitterness and forced civility.

Her gaze wandered the table: Parker sat stiffly beside her, his fork clenched in his fist as he stabbed at his food. Ronnie and Monica whispered conspiratorially, their heads close together, while Dottie and Ben coaxed their kids to eat a few more bites.

Katie’s eyes stopped on Megan, leaning toward Jeremy with a bright smile. “If that happened to me, I think I’d die of embarrassment,” she said, her voice carrying just enough for Katie to catch it.

Jeremy didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Megan. His gaze was elsewhere, steady and unflinching—on Katie. Not with pity or judgment, but quiet understanding. He shifted slightly, closing himself off from Megan’s proximity and angling toward Katie instead. The subtle movement felt deliberate, almost protective.

Katie’s breath caught, and she quickly looked away, her eyes falling to her empty wine glass. She wasn’t going to get through the night sober.

Blindly reaching for the bottle, her trembling fingers brushed against something warm. She froze, realizing it was Jeremy’s hand, just as he reached for the same bottle. His touch was barely there–just the faintest of feelings as they had met by accident.

Katie watched as his thick fingers coiled around the neck of the bottle and poured himself more wine. But his touch had lingered just long enough that Katie could still feel it, as the legs of his chair squealed against the floor. Jeremy stood slowly, his expression neutral, as he reached out across the table and filled her glass with wine.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jeremy didn’t reply, just settled back in his chair with a quiet confidence that made her chest feel less tight. But then, as he sat, she felt the faintest pressure against her ankle. His foot, deliberate and slow, traced a line up her calf before retreating.

Katie’s breath hitched, her grip on her wine glass beginning to falter as it suddenly felt heavy in her hand. It dropped to the table before she could try to catch it, the sound of the shatter had Katie snapping back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” Katie gasped, scrambling to cover the spill with her napkin as if it would stop it from bleeding into the table cloth.

“Mom, are you okay?” Parker asked quickly, his hand joining the mess of napkins at the center of the table.

Katie forced a smile, her voice shaking, “Yes, just clumsy tonight.”

Dottie chimed in, her tone calm and reassuring. “It’s the stress,” Dottie was quick to say, “I keep telling you– what do I keep telling you?”

Katie nodded, grateful for the lifeline Dottie had thrown her. “It’s the stress,” she echoed, her gaze briefly meeting Jeremy’s before it dropped down to the table.

From beside her, Parker leaned across the table, toward Jeremy, his voice carrying just enough for Katie to hear. “Mom and Dottie are weird like that—you’ll get used to it.”

It was almost enough to draw a genuine smile from her, almost. She brushed her hair back, her fingers lingering against her temples as if she could rub away the growing headache. “I think I’ll turn in early,” she murmured, her voice fragile but resolute.

“You should,” Parker said, his tone firm in the way only a son looking out for his mother could be. “There’s a hot tub out back—just go relax. We’ll take care of everything here.”

Katie hesitated, her instinct to refuse warring with the exhaustion pulling at her shoulders. She reached out, smoothing Parker’s hair with a soft touch. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she didn’t dare let show.

As she pushed back her chair and rose, she felt Jeremy’s eyes on her again—steady, watchful. She avoided meeting his gaze, but as she turned to leave, her steps faltering slightly, his quiet presence lingered behind her like an unspoken promise.

In the hall, the muffled sounds of the table faded, replaced by the echo of her own breathing. Katie pressed her palm flat against the cool wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Maybe the hot tub wasn’t a bad idea after all. She just needed to find a way to let the tension in her chest dissolve, even if it was only temporary.

And as she walked toward the back door, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeremy would somehow end up being part of that reprieve, whether she wanted him to be or not.

The crisp winter air nipped at Katie’s cheeks as she stepped onto the back deck, her breath curling in soft, misty clouds in front of her. She pulled her robe tighter around her body, the crunch of snow underfoot lost on her ears as she heard the sound of bubbling water ahead.

The hot tub was a small oasis in the frigid night, steam rising in soft tendrils against the dark sky. Katie hesitated at the edge, her eyes scanning the yard for any sign of life, but it was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. She exhaled slowly, peeling off the layers she’d brought with her until she was left in her swimsuit.

The water welcomed her like an old friend, the heat seeping into her muscles as she sank into its depths with a sigh. For the first time that evening, the tension in her shoulders began to melt away, replaced by a soothing warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket.

She settled into the corner, facing the sliding glass doors that led back into the house. The glow from inside cast a soft light across the deck, but it felt distant, as though she had managed to leave all the chaos and noise behind.

The sound of the water bubbling and the gentle rustle of wind through the trees dulled her senses. She leaned her head back, the steam curling around her face, and closed her eyes. For just a moment, she let herself drift, the night wrapping her in its stillness.

Katie let the calm envelop her, wrapping around her like a cocoon. For the first time since her plane had lifted off that morning, she felt at peace. She savored it, knowing it was fleeting—knowing it would dissolve the moment she slid the door open and stepped back into the noise of children’s laughter, Monica’s relentless self-importance, and the inevitable chaos of Christmas.

"You don’t have to go back inside yet," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the steady hum of the water. She felt the tension creeping back into her shoulders at the mere thought of rejoining the fray, but she pushed it down, letting the warmth of the water soothe her nerves.

Just as she began to reclaim the fleeting relief, the sharp sound of the sliding door broke the stillness. Her heart sank. With a sigh, she cracked her eyes open, fully expecting to see Dottie or Parker checking on her. But the figure stepping into the glow of the deck lights wasn’t who she expected.

It was Jeremy.

Her body tensed, her calm shattered in an instant. She shot upright, the sudden motion sending ripples across the surface of the water, the heat lapping against her skin. He walked toward her, his long strides careful, purposeful. Each step followed the faint path he had left in the snow, his breath visible in the cold air.

Katie’s pulse quickened. A part of her wanted to sink below the surface, to disappear into the steam and pretend he hadn’t found her sanctuary. But she couldn’t move—his presence rooted her in place.

He stopped just short of the tub, crouching in the snow until he was at her eye level. For a moment, he said nothing, just held her gaze with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Then, without a word, he extended his hand, offering her a glass of wine.

“I don’t think I should have another,” Katie told him, sinking deeper into the water, until it was only her head that bobbed above the surface.

Jeremy smirked, holding the glass just out of her reach. “Considering your last one ended up all over the table, I don’t think this one will hurt.”

Her arm emerged cautiously from the water, ripping the surface as she reached for the glass. Their fingers brushed, and this time, neither of them pulled away. They both held the glass, a sudden grounding force that had Katie easing herself out of the water. Her swimsuit clung to her skim, emphasizing the soft curves of her body. For a moment, and his warm eyes dragged over her body, Jeremy looked as though he might climb in, fully dressed.

But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and intimate, meant for her ears alone. “You left the dinner table because of me, didn’t you?”

Katie’s face flushed red hot.

“There were many reasons I didn’t want to be seated at that table,” she said, her voice steady despite the way his gaze held her captive. For the first time all evening, she didn’t look away. Instead she allowed herself a moment to take him in–the quiet intensity of his eyes, the subtle curve of his lips, and the he seemed entirely at ease yet so focused on her.

“You weren’t one of them” she continued, her tone softening.

Jeremy’s grin deepened, soft but unmistakably wicked. "Good, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked in tonight."

Her pulse quickened, the admission sending a ripple through her resolve. But she managed to hold her ground, her voice quieter now. "We can’t… do this."

Jeremy’s grin turned playful, though his eyes remained serious. “Dottie and Parker were busy in the kitchen-”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Jeremy,” Katie said, her tone growing firmer.

“I know,” he admitted, exhaling as he let the glass fall into her hold alone. Then, he sat himself down on the hard plastic of the hot tub. His hand dipped down into the water, swirling it idly. “Anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Katie hesitated, gripping the rim of the tub as if it would keep her from doing anything stupid. “We can’t,” she repeated.

“Why not? You didn’t seem to have any problem with us before.”

Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know who you were before.”

Jeremy’s brow lifted, his smirk returning. “Oh, so you only sleep with strangers, that’s it? Kinky.”

“No, no that’s not-” Katie stammered, her words tangling her tongue as she tried to protest.

“Is it that you think I’m too young for you?” Jeremy pressed, his teasing tone refusing to let up.

Katie groaned, the sound low and frustrated. His words hit a nerve. Her chest tightened at the thought—how similar their relationship was to the one Ronnie had with Monica. She hated that she could compare herself to the man who had once made her feel small and uncertain of herself.

“I knew you were younger,” she shot back.

“Then I don’t see the-”

Her voice dropped, heavy with finality. “I don’t sleep with my son’s friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Jeremy spoke, his tone low and edged with humor, “you would’ve been the perfect gift for me to unwrap for the first night of Hannukah.” Slowly, Jeremy pushed himself to his feet, and brushed the snow from his pants as he prepared to leave. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Katie.”

With that, Jeremy turned, retracing his footprints back into the house. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Katie alone once more. She stared down at the wine glass in her hand, watching it swirl as she twisted it between her fingers. The dark liquid swirled hypnotically, tempting her into taking a sip, to dull the tensions that crept back into her shoulders. But she knew better. Wine had a way of loosening her resolve, and the last thing she needed was to make the same mistake twice.

Katie tipped the glass, slowly pouring it into the snow. The deep red stained the pristine white, fading to pink as the liquid seeped in. She smiled softly at the colors, a fleeting moment of calm, until the door creaked open again, followed by an exaggerated gasp.

“I can’t believe you just wasted perfectly good wine,” Dottie explained, her tone somewhere between mock horror and genuine disapproval.

Katie chucked, shaking her head without looking back., “How long have you been watching from the window?”

“The whole time,” Dottie smiled devilishly, “Thought you and lover boy were about to give me a show.”

Katie groaned, sinking further into the warmth of the hot tub. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Dottie corrected, perching on the edge of the tub like a cat ready to pounce. “So? What did he say?”

“Nothing appropriate,” Katie groaned, leaning back in the comforting warmth of the hot tub.

“I like him!” Dottie announced with a grin.

“Of course you do,” Katie deadpanned.

“So you’re going to bang, right?”

“Dottie!”

“What?” Dottie said innocently, though her grin only grew. “He’s hot, he’s into you, and you’re clearly into him. Win-win.”

“He’s Parker’s friend,” Katie reminded her, her face falling into a semblance of a frown. “And practically his age. If Parker ever found out… he’d never talk to me again. It can’t happen, not here, not now. Especially not here, not at Christmas.”

Dottie’s teasing expression softened. “I get it. I do,” she said, her tone gentler. “Parker’s your whole world. He’s been it since the moment he was born. Your number one priority, and he’s done all of this for us this year because of what you’ve sacrificed to get him here–a loveless marriage, a career that paid well but wasn’t your dream job. You’ve sacrificed everything for that boy. Just once, can’t you put yourself first? For me? Please.” Dottie punctuated her words with a soft pout.

Katie sighed, reaching for her robe as she climbed out of the hot tub. The icy air hit her like a slap, sending a shiver down her spine. “It’s not that simple, Dot,” Katie said, pulling her robe tightly around her. “This isn’t like buying a purse at TJ Maxx as a treat or not going to my ex-husband’s wedding.”

“No,” Dottie agreed, “It’s so much better. He’s a good guy, Katie”

“I know he is.”

“And a good lay,” Dottie spoke pointedly, as if Katie needed to be reminded.

Katie froze, her cheeks heating despite the cold. The memory of Boston was etched in her mind–the way Jeremy’s hand felt on her skin, the heat of his lips on hers. It had been intoxicated, a high she hadn’t been able to replicate since.

“He was,” Katie admitted quietly.

“And the opportunity may never come again. So why waste it?” Dottie challenged one last time, before she was gone, disappearing into the house.

Katie stood there for a moment, staring after her friend. By the time Katie reached the door, her mind was racing. She knew Parker was reason enough to say no, but deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could keep saying no– to Jeremy, and to herself.

Katie stood in front of the mirror in her room, twisting a damp strand of hair around her finger. The heat from the hot tub had left her skin pink and glowing, a small consolation after the tension-filled evening. She sighed, pulling on the soft flannel pajamas she’d bought for everyone weeks ago—a coordinated tradition she’d insisted on, despite Parker’s protests about dragging family traditions across the country for Christmas.

Everyone except Jeremy.

She tugged at the sleeves of her red-and-green plaid top, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles as her mind lingered on him. If she’d known he’d be here, she might’ve sent him a pair too. Or maybe not. Matching pajamas felt too… intimate.

Katie shook her head, banishing the thought as she grabbed the pile of neatly wrapped presents from the top of the dresser. She’d even bought one for Monica, a gesture that left a sour taste in her mouth. The wretched woman didn’t deserve a gift—not when Jeremy, so sweet and thoughtful, would go without. Her frown deepened as she glanced at each tag one last time before heading upstairs.

The Christmas tree’s glow bathed the living room in soft, warm light. The house had grown quiet, the others retreating to their rooms as the night stretched on. Katie knelt by the tree, arranging her presents carefully beneath the branches. Her fingers lingered on a ribbon as she gazed at the growing pile of gifts.

This was supposed to be a time for joy, for family, for simple traditions. But tonight felt different—complicated, like an invisible thread pulling her toward something she wasn’t sure she wanted.

With a sigh, she padded downstairs to her room, her bare feet quiet against the cold floor. She wasn’t ready for bed, not yet. Not when there were a few stolen moments left for herself.

Grabbing her book from her bag, Katie settled into the basement’s common area. Beyond the bathroom door, she heard the shower running, but she paid it no mind. The soft pages of her book soon drew her in, offering an escape from the thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

Katie wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there—minutes or hours, time blurred by the quiet escape of her book. She didn’t look up until light spilled into the room, stretching across the floor and casting her shadow.

“Parker, is that you?” she called softly, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of the figure beyond the bathroom door.

Katie’s gaze drifted upward, and at first, all she saw was the stretch of a shadow across the floor, long and shifting as if testing its reach. Her breath caught as the figure emerged from the light—a broad silhouette that sent a prickle of heat to her cheeks before her mind even registered who it was.

Jeremy stepped into view, a towel slung low around his hips, his hair damp and dripping. The droplets of water rolled down Jeremy’s chest, catching the light in a way that made her stomach twist. He didn’t seem to notice her staring—or maybe he did, and he was just taking his time, leaning casually against the doorframe as if oblivious to the effect he was having on her. Katie’s breath hitched, her earlier curiosity replaced by a sudden wish she’d stayed silent.

At first, neither of them moved. The hum of the bathroom light buzzed faintly, a subtle intrusion into the heavy stillness between them. Katie swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze pressing down on her as if daring her to speak first. Her mouth opened, words poised on her tongue, but nothing came out. Her brain screamed at her to look away, to act normal, but her eyes betrayed her, tracing the path of a water droplet as it slid down his collarbone and disappeared beneath the edge of the towel.

“Didn’t realize anyone was still up,” Jeremy said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Katie replied, holding up her book. “Needed a distraction to wind down.”

“A distraction from what?” he asked, stepping closer, one hand securing the towel at his waist.

“Everything,” she admitted, closing the book and setting it aside.

“Even me?” Jeremy’s voice was softer now, a faint edge of something unreadable in his tone.

“Especially you,” She didn’t mean for it to sound like a confession, but the way his brow lifted told her he’d heard it that way.

Rising from her chair, Katie moved toward him, her pulse quickening as the space between them disappeared. “I feel bad. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what?”

“Gotten you a gift to unwrap,” she said, her words catching on a breath. For a moment, she hesitated, the tension between them thick and unspoken. “But I guess…” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. “I’ll have to do.”

“Come here,” Jeremy murmured, his voice barely audible, and before she could decide whether to step back or lean in, his hand moved—leaving the towel at his hips precariously loose.

Her stomach fluttered as his fingers found her waist, warm and firm through the thin flannel of her pajamas. The fabric bunched beneath his touch, the sensation sending a shiver skimming down her spine.

Jeremy lifted her effortlessly, the movement fluid and sure, his strength impossible to ignore as her pulse quickened. Katie’s breath caught, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders, while her legs wound around his hips. Her fingers brushed against his damp skin, warm and slick from his shower, and the contact sent a shiver coursing through her.

She barely had time to process the rush of feeling his body against hers, before she leaned in, her lips seeking his.

The first brush of their mouths sent a jolt through her, soft and electric. Her hand cupped his face, her fingers slipping into his damp hair as she deepened the kiss. A soft sound escaped her, unbidden and raw, as her body seemed to melt against him, surrendering to the moment.

Jeremy’s grip shifted, one hand leaving her waist to slide down and settle firmly against the back of her thigh. The possessiveness of his touch sent heat spiraling through her, igniting a spark that made her dizzy. Without breaking the kiss, he carried her with purposeful strides into the bedroom that had been assigned to him for the holidays.

A single arm reached out blindly as she sought out the door. Her knuckles hit the door frame first, sending a stinging pain through her hand as it found the door and shoved it back with the flick of her wrist. It was her body that secured it shut, Jeremy pressing her back firmly up against it, trapping her frame between the door and the strength of his body.

“Lock it,” she panted against his lips, “lock it.”

Katie wanted to be sure that if she was going to fall into bed with Jeremey again, she wasn’t going to make the mistake of getting caught.

A single hand strayed away from her for but a moment, the sound of the lock engaging was like the strike of a match that ignited the smoldering ashes inside her into a burning rage. Inside his room, nothing beyond the door mattered. It was just her and Jeremy.

With her body pressed up against the door, and the door locked, Jeremy’s hands traced the curves of her body. They dipped down as they traced her waist, and out over the swell of her hips before gripping at the softness of her thighs as he drew her away from the door with an effortlessness that left Katie gasping.

It never ceased to amaze her how Jeremy carried her like she weighed nothing at all. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, not even when his towel slipped or his steps tangled in the fabric. He only chuckled softly, against her skin, his hot breath washing over her cheek warm and reassuring as his lips teased her with the ghost of a kiss.

Katie’s fingers brushed against his damp skin, feeling the strength beneath, the steadiness in how he held her. He didn’t complain—didn’t call her too heavy, or too demanding. Those words, the ones Ronnie had thrown at her like weapons, dissolved into nothingness in Jeremy’s arms.

Instead, Jeremy’s grip on her was firm but gentle, his touch reverent, as though he cherished the weight of her against him – he welcomed it even, as he sat down on the bed and welcomed her into his lap. He didn’t make her feel like a burden. He made her feel wanted.

Her chest tightened–just as her legs did around his thighs–and she bit her lip, a wave of emotion catching her off guard. He made her feel wanted. The feeling of needing him–and being needed– was all consuming, so unexpected, Katie had to fight back tears as her eyes danced over the soft expression on Jeremy’s face.

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered down to meet hers, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There was no blame, no irritation, only quiet determination and an unmistakable softness that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world– and she would be for as long as she let herself be in his arms.

Her touch was trembling as it left his shoulders, the tips of her fingers traced up the back of his neck and into the wet curls that hung there. Slowly, her grip tightened, twisting the soft strands between her fingers. Jeremy’s head eased back into her pull, and his mouth fell open in a ghost of a slack jawed moan.

The sight of him left Katie breathless, her entire body tensing at a single fact; she was the one doing this to him.

With her heart pounding so hard Katie thought her ribcage might rattle, her hips began to roll. The soft cotton fabric of her pajama bottoms was the only thing keeping her dragging her aching core over the expanse of his thick thighs. Her body quivered, her eyes fluttering shut, at the feeling of his hands on her hips. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, pulling her body in close, further up his lap so she could feel the stiffness of his cock between her legs.

Jeremy whispered against her cheek, his hot breath washing over her with every word. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Katie wanted to groan as angled her hips over him, her clothed core dragging up his length as a distraction from her racing mind that had wanted nothing but to ignore the very thought of his body against hers. Even as she was so close to having him, the last thing Katie wanted to do was think. So, she did the only thing she knew would cloud her mind in the best ways. She acted.

With her fingers still tangled in the curls of his hair, Katie’s lips swallowed every word that threatened to spill from his mouth with a kiss. The kiss was deep and hungry. Katie could taste the sweetness of his toothpaste on his tongue as her own parted his lips and stroked only his teeth.

Jeremy’s body vibrated with the vibrato of his satisfied hum, his kiss meeting the eagerness of her own before it left her lips and left a heated trail across the angles of her jaw and down. His tongue stroked along her neck slowly, priming the delicate skin there for the careful graze of his teeth.

“Don’t,” Katie gasped out, her grasp on his hair tightening. As much as she liked it, the risk in letting her mark up the curves of neck was too great. If it was another time, another place, when her family wasn’t going to greet her in the morning, maybe Katie would have let him.

“Alright, alright,” Jeremy assured with soft understanding against her neck before he peppered soft kisses where her neck met her shoulder, “I’ll be good. No teeth,” he continued as he hands coasted over her hips and found the bottom of her shirt, “but this, this comes off now.”

His hand then dropped to the top of her thigh, stroking over the thick expanse slowly. “And so do these.”

Licking her lips, Katie raised her arms up slowly. For a moment, she saw only darkness as her shirt was pulled up and over her face. It was lost somewhere in the room. The floor, the foot of the bed—she didn’t know where it ended up. All she knew was that as quickly as her shirt came off, she was flipped onto her back.

A gasp escaped her, one that quickly became a soft moan as the heat of Jeremey’s mouth traveled over the curves of her body. His kiss started as a simple peck against her neck, but as it continued downward it became a sloppy kiss over her collarbone. Hockey hardened hands were coarse but gentle over her breasts as he caressed them, bringing them together and giving them the brief attention of his kiss before he was kissing her stomach and the peak of each hip.

His every breath washed over her, heating the cotton of her panties as he lay between her legs. Katie lay there, biting her lips as she waited for the touch of his hands to flutter over the fabric, but her eyes went wide as she only felt his mouth. Jeremy kissed over her clothed core slowly, his teeth tugging at the fabric that snapped back against her body with a satisfying sound.

“Jeremy,” she breathed out, her head leaving the pillow to look down at him as he smiled from between her legs.

His tongue traces slowly up and down the length of the fabric, her legs tensing at the teasing stroked. Slowly she bent them, her hips widening for him. Then, as if she had welcomed it, Jeremy’s fingers traced along the edges of her panties. He teased the sensitive flesh there, pausing only to trace over a small constellation of freckles, before he dipped two fingers inside. They hooked the crotch of her panties, surely feeling the wetness of her arousal there as he pulled them aside.

Jeremy tucked the fabric off to the side, placing them carefully to assure they wouldn’t slip back into place. His two fingers dragged up and down her slick cunt, dragging the wetness of her core up to her clit before circling slowly.

A spark of electricity ran its course through Katie’s body, straight from her core to her finger tips, sending her hips bucking up into his touch. Each circle of his fingers was like twisting up a wind up toy, building the pressure up closer and closer but Jeremy wasn’t ready to let her reach her release.

Dragging his fingers down, he parted her and slowly slipped his digits inside. Her warm embrace welcomed him as Katie angled her hips down, welcoming the slow and steady pulse of his fingers. Jeremy worked her slowly, his fingers seeking out the most sensitive part of her, sending her dripping down his fingers with the careful roll of her hips. Getting her so close with the mere touch of him, until he pulled them free and sat up on his knees in the bed.

Their eyes met, Jeremy making sure she was watching, as he brought his glistening fingers to his lips and tasted her.

Katie fought back a moan.

“You taste as good as I remember,” he hummed, the rumble of his words forcing Katie to take in a sharp inhale. They left her holding her breath until her lungs burned, suffocating, as he dragged her panties down the length of her legs and lost them among the rest of her clothes on the floor.

Katie lay still in the bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt Jeremy’s weight leave the bed. The sudden sound of his suitcase zipper had her jolting on the bed, her hand raising to her chest, only to be calmed by the rip of the condom wrapper. He was gone just long enough to work it onto his cock before Jeremy was crawling back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers.

“Let me spoil you,” Jeremy spoke in a dreamy whisper, his hand raising to stroke her hair back over her shoulder. He leaned in, and Katie welcomed his kiss with a desperate one of her own. Her hands clutched to his back, one travelling up into the curls are the nap of his neck as Jeremy worked blindly between her legs. His cock fumbled up and down, searching for her core, and only did he find it when she angled her hips up.

Her core flexed at the mere feeling of him, Jeremy letting out a satisfied hum into her mouth as he kissed her. His mouth didn’t leave hers, not even as his hands stroke down the curves of his waist in search of her hips. His firm hold held them in place as he angled his hips, his cock hitting the safe place his fingers had teased her.

Katie’s lips fell agape in a gasp.

“See,” Katie could hear the satisfied grin on his face in his words as he spoke, “I remember just what you like.”

“You do,” she panted, her hand coming up to rest over her lips to muffle her own words in fear that someone might hear her, “you do.”

“What do I do, Katie? I want to hear you say it.”

“You make me feel so good. You-You-” she stuttered through her words, her entire body weak as her climax became closer and closer to being all consuming. She was so close her words left in a rush of air from her lips, “you make me feel beautiful…”

“You are beautiful, Katie,” Jeremy spoke out in a breath, his words firm and genuine as he gripped at the pillow beneath her head. It anchored him as he leaned in burying his face in her hair and placed a simple kiss there.

His hips collided with hers a little harder, each impact filling the room with a flat smack, pushing his cock to the very limits of her body. It left her reeling, her core clenching around his cock as her fingers clenched into fists around the sheets.

“My beautiful,” he panted, his teeth gritting as he buried his face further into her hair, until he was placing a sloppy heated kiss to the curve of her neck. It was a kiss that became a strangled groan as he came, “my beautiful gift.”

They lay there together, still and panting for a moment, Katie’s hands releasing the bedsheets and finding Jeremy’s body. It became heavy over hers as she relaxed, her fingers tracing down the strength of his back like raindrops. And when they fell back down to the bed, and Jeremy had stroked her mess of red hair from her face with the gentle touch of his hand, Jeremy eased his weight from her, and his cock out of her.

The cold air began to settle over her naked body, the sweat that was either his or her own, was left feeling like ice as she was left with nothing but the void of him. Katie brought her legs together slowly, and her arms reached out blindly for the blanket that was left wrinkled over the bed. She drew it into her chest, hugging it to her naked frame and the vulnerabilities that came with being in his bed.

Rolling over, Katie watched as Jeremy moved towards the trash bin in the corner of the room. He stood there, still naked, with his back to her as he pulled off the condom and crouched down to bury it at the bottom of the bin.

Katie’s head lulled, her eyes taking dreamy blinks as he moved through the room. She knew she should have been getting dressed. That she should have already snuck back into her own room. But there was something about Jeremy that made her feel calm, comfortable, and it had her burying her head in the pillow just to stay a little longer.

When Katie glanced back up, her eyes met the sight of his pajama pants draped low on Jeremy’s hips, the red-and-green plaid matching the family set perfectly. It was an absurd sight—this six-foot-something man lounging in her carefully coordinated Christmas tradition. Her gaze lingered on his Adonis belt and how it disappeared into his pants, but her curiosity quickly got the better of her.

“Did Parker get you those?” she asked softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the unease still sitting in her chest.

Jeremy nodded, looking down at the pants like they were some rare artifact. “Yeah. Said he didn’t want me feeling left out.”

Her heart squeezed painfully at his words. Parker was thoughtful like that, always looking out for everyone—even her. And how did she repay him? By sleeping with his teammate, not once, but twice. Her stomach did a flip in her stomach, bile creeping up the back of her throat – or maybe it was a sob. Katie couldn’t help but feel guilty. Leaning her head back against the headboard, she brought her hands up to cover her face.

“Hey,” Jeremy said gently, reaching out to brush her knee. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Regret this,” he said simply, his tone so full of warmth it made her chest ache.

Katie pulled her hands away, letting out a bitter laugh. “He’s my son, Jeremy.”

“And I’m not,” he replied, his voice steady but careful.

She blinked, fighting back the hot acid of tears that began to build in her eyes. “But you’re—”

“I know,” he cut her off, his voice dropping lower, like he wanted to spare her the burden of finishing the sentence.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked, her words trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “Because he’s my son, and you knew I’d be here?”

Jeremy hesitated, his silence weighing heavy in the room. He ran a hand through his hair, damp curls sticking to his forehead.

“It’s a half-truth,” he admitted finally, his gaze locked on hers. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t asked. It beats spending the holidays alone. But I won’t lie, Katie—you were a factor in me saying yes. I wanted to see you. And… you never called.”

Her breath hitched. She looked away, her lips pressing together in a firm line. Her shoulders sunk under the weight of everything she’d been carrying. She had gone on dates since their nights together. Men closer to her age. Friends of friends, her own coworkers, and men she had met on trendy dating apps. But none of them had looked at her the way Jeremy did—with respect, with adoration, like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

“I couldn’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Not even when I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?” Jeremy spoke, his voice breaking.

Katie nodded slowly, her throat tightening as tears welled in her eyes. She hesitated, her gaze faltering before finally lifting to meet his stare that was fixated on her.

Jeremy’s grin softened into something tender as he reached for her, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her, his lips warm and gentle, and she melted into him, her hands sliding over his as she held him there, savoring the moment.

“Stay in bed with me tonight,” he murmured against her lips.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him, her resolve wavering.

“We can lock the door,” he offered, his tone light but his eyes searching hers. He knew the risk. They could get caught by anyone at any moment, but to him, she was worth the risk. “I want to wake up next to you on Christmas morning.”

Slowly, she slipped out of bed and crossed the room to the door. She turned the lock with a quiet click, the sound oddly satisfying.

When she turned back, Jeremy was watching her, his smile growing as she climbed back into bed beside him. She settled against his chest, his arms wrapping around as if this wasn’t the very first time she had crawled into bed with him for anything more than just sex.

“Goodnight, Katie,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” she replied softly, her eyes closing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her to sleep.

There was no morning light filtering into the basement bedroom when Katie stirred. The only light, the soft green glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. Katie stirred awake, only because she heard footsteps overhead, the first signs of someone else being awake. It should have panicked her, but with the haze of sleep still heavy on her, Katie was quickly distracted by the steady rise and fall of Jeremy’s chest beneath her cheek. His arms were exactly where she had left them when she had fallen asleep, securely around her waist.

Her breath caught for a moment as she shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him. Her eyes landed on the clock across the room—it was early, but not too early. Upstairs, where a single set of footsteps wandered in careful steps, Katie was sure it was one of the adults that was awake, not the children. And with the assumption, Katie gifted herself a rare moment of peace– one she wanted to savor.

Katie lifted her head just enough to look at him. His features were softened in sleep, his jaw slacked in such a way that a soft snore left his lips. Without thinking, Katie leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his chin, the scruff of his jaw rough against her lips.

Jeremy stirred, a low hum escaping his throat before his eyes fluttered open. A drowsy smile spread across his face as he took her in. “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

“Someone’s awake upstairs,” she murmured gently, pressing a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth and slipping out of bed. “I can’t linger, but you…” She glanced back at him. “You need to wait before coming up. Give it a few minutes—maybe an hour, just to be safe.”

Bending over, Katie collected each of her articles of clothing from where they had ended up in the room. Her shirt had been tossed on the floor, a heat on the carpet that she almost tripped on as she reached for her pants that were left tangled with the top sheet at the foot of the bed. She held them both in her arms, hugged her body, as she searched for her panties.

“I’ll give you a 10 minute head start,” Jeremy offered her, his words firm and free of sleep, drawing her attention back to him. Katie saw his smile first, his warm brown eyes taking her in as she stood frantic and naked in his room. Then coming between them, was his hand raising her red panties in the air like a trophy.

Her hand lurched out to them, but Jeremy tugged them away with a playful chuckle, “You get 10 minutes, because I make my girl breakfast after a night cap.”

Katie crawled onto the bed, her movements deliberate as she stretched across his body, reaching for the silky red fabric he held just out of reach. Jeremy’s teasing grin only fueled her determination, and it wasn’t until she straddled his lap—her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him—that she managed to grab hold of them. The duvet draped over his hips did little to shield the heat between them, her fist curling tightly around the panties as she froze, suddenly aware of the position she’d put herself in.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm she couldn’t quite control. For a moment, she let her gaze drop, her pulse thundering in her ears as she took him in. The way he was watching her—smirking yet his face soft with amusement, and the way his hands rested lightly on her thighs—was too much and not enough all at once.

Shaking off the rush of emotions that threatened to consume her, Katie tilted her head, fixing him with a look meant to convey the control she didn’t entirely feel. “I’m not your girl,” she said, her voice low but firm, though the pounding of her heart betrayed the words.

“You were last night,” he chirped, and Katie’s entire body ignited with a heat that left her sweating as she climbed off of him, and out of the bed.

“Enough of that,” she pointed a finger at him to try to get her point across, but as firm as she was, there was no hiding the color that flooded her cheeks.

Katie quickly turned in place, hoping that he hadn’t seen the effect he had on her– which she undoubtedly already knew. She hopped into her clothes, one article at a time before tugging her shirt over her head and fixing the buttons just right.

Behind her, Jeremy’s hum of amusement reached her ears. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, Katie.”

Her fingers froze mid-button for a split second before continuing their work. She didn’t dare look back, knowing his grin would only make it worse. Instead, she raked her fingers through her messy auburn hair, took a steadying breath, and reached for the door handle.

The lock clicked, and a gust of cool air washed over Katie as she left the seclusion of Jeremy’s bedroom and ventured into the rest of the house. She moved on the tips of her toes, pausing at her bedroom door. The bed inside was still perfectly made, untouched.

A lump caught in her throat, tight and suffocating. She reached out, pulling the door shut with trembling fingers. The sharp sound of the latch falling into place almost made her jump—or maybe it was the sudden crash of dishes upstairs.

Her heart leapt as her feet carried her quickly up the stairs, past the landing that overlooked the kitchen and dining room. “What the hell just happened?” she called out, her hands raised for emphasis.

Dottie popped up in the kitchen, bright and cheerful, her grin as radiant as the morning sun. “Morning, Porn Star!”

Katie recoiled, as if Dottie’s words had struck her square in the chest. Her breath caught, her body stiffening under the weight of the teasing. She stood frozen, heat rushing to her cheeks as her mind scrambled for a response. But Dottie, as carefree as ever, simply leaned against the counter with a smug grin, her words landing like a well-placed jab that didn’t miss its mark.

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” Dottie said, practically glowing with mischief. “Means you listened to me, for once.” She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the counter, poised to devour Katie’s juicy secret. “So, how was it?”

Katie crossed the kitchen in a few quick strides, lowering her voice as she leaned closer to Dottie. Through clenched teeth, she hissed, “We are not talking about this right now.”

To Katie’s relief, before the conversation could continue, the twins tore down the stairs, their excitement carrying them straight toward the mountain of gifts under the tree.

“Ah, ah!” Dottie tutted, snapping them back in line with a pointed look. “You know the rules—breakfast as a family before presents!”

The boys didn’t argue. They knew better. Instead, they dropped into the same chairs they’d claimed at dinner the night before, their murmured chatter barely audible over the soft strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas floating from Dottie’s Bluetooth speaker.

Their father appeared moments later, kissing Dottie’s cheek as he passed through the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. The quiet routine of family life settled over the house, and for a moment, Katie almost let herself relax. She busied herself alongside Dottie, both of them working in sync to prepare a feast of eggs, bacon, sausage, French toast, and fresh fruit—a classic Christmas breakfast meant to keep everyone full until dinner.

It wasn’t an easy task for just the two of them, but they worked in a comfortable rhythm… until Jeremy emerged.

Cresting from the shadows of the basement, Jeremy strode into the kitchen, all smug smiles and sleepy-eyed confidence. His gaze locked onto her immediately, unrelenting, like a spotlight she couldn’t escape.

Katie bit her lower lip as she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Eight minutes. He’d waited all of eight minutes.

“You ladies need help here?” Jeremy asked, his voice far too cheerful for someone who had just rolled out of bed.

Katie hummed to hide the groan that threatened to rip up her throat. She had hoped he’d shuffle up half-asleep, groggy and disheveled, like a teenager dragged from bed. Instead, Jeremy radiated a just-been-fucked glow that buzzed with energy. A good night's sleep after sex would always be more effective than caffeine ever could be.

“We’ll manage,” Katie said stiffly, pressing her lips into a firm line.

“I insist,” he said with an infuriatingly easy grin, stepping into the space Dottie had conveniently vacated.

His elbow brushed hers as he slid into the chaos of their morning with a natural ease that made her stomach tighten. He moved like he belonged there, like this wasn’t the first time he’d stood beside her in the kitchen during Christmas breakfast.

Katie struggled to stay focused, her movements stiff and mechanical as she whisked the eggs. Beside her, Jeremy was too close, too casual, and far too smug for her liking.

And Dottie? She hid her knowing grin behind the rim of her coffee mug, her eyes twinkling as they darted between Katie and Jeremy. “You two look cozy,” she teased lightly, before turning toward the living room. “I’ll go make sure the kids don’t sneak any presents while you two finish up here–”

Unlike dinner, there were no forced pleasantries over breakfast. No conversations. Only sleepy morning greetings and yawns before the clink of clamor of cutlery against plates. And after breakfast was enjoyed, and the remnants of breakfast were cleared away, everyone gathered around the tree for the long-awaited exchange of gifts.

The twins dove straight into their stockings, a tradition upheld, the stocking filled by family instead now that the twins were too old for Santa. Each and every one of them had them, filled with trinkets, toys and novelties that would be lost and thrown away by next Christmas.

Katie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, watching the joy light up on everyone’s faces, her own stocking untouched as it leaned against her lap. It remained untouched, as she stood up, leaving it half spilt on the floor as she carefully handed out gifts one by one. Her gaze softened as she watched the others unwrapped their gifts, her heart swelling at the simple happiness that surrounded her. Even her own gifts, unwrapped one by one, were thoughtful—reading socks from the twins, a bottle of wine from her ex and his wife, and a spa day from Dottie. But when Parker sat beside her, a small box in hand, she couldn’t be left more in awe by his sweet gesture of taking the time to single her out and exchange his gift to her one on one.

“This one’s from me,” Parker said, his voice low and almost hesitant as he handed her the gift.

Taking it in both hands, Katie carefully peeled back the wrapping paper and lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace that caught the twinkling lights from the tree. Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.

“You deserve nice things, Mom,” Parker murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You always have.”

Setting the box aside, Katie pulled him into a tight hug, her cheeks wet with tears as she whispered, “What did I do to deserve you as my son?”

She wiped at her cheeks, smiling through her tears, and held the necklace out to him. “Help me with it?”

Parker hesitated, glancing toward Jeremy. “Actually... there’s one more thing upstairs I forgot. Big Dog, you mind helping Mom?”

Jeremy didn’t need to be asked twice. He rose smoothly from his seat where he had perched himself, a simple observer of their Christmas morning. He knelt down behind Katie as she held the necklace in her hands. His fingers brushed over hers as he took the delicate chain. Katie’s next movements felt like they were in slow motion. Both arms reached up, clutching her hair up and opening her neck up for him. His fingers brushed against the delicate skin of her collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity through her body, as he clasped the jewelry around her neck. His touch lingered, longer after he let his hands all away– so long that Katie thought his touch might have etched into her skin forever.

Katie raised her hand up, letting it splay flat over the pendant and where the ghost of Jeremy’s touch was still on her body.

“Thank you,” she smiled softly.

“He spent hours picking it out,” Jeremy said, his voice low, “Parker wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Katie murmured, her voice thick with gratitude. She couldn’t imagine anything better.

Jeremy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Which is why my gift is going to look pathetic in comparison.”

“Your gift?” Katie tilted her head, curious. “Jeremy, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeremy smiled, “I got gifts for everyone.”

He handed them out one by one, distracting everyone with their gift, before he stepped over to the tree and pulled out a small gift bag for her. “Just a little something,” he said, handing it to her.

Katie dipped her hand into the bag, rustling the tissues paper, as she pulled out a leather bound journal. It had a beautiful golden floral pattern on the cover, and its crisp pages were accompanied by a set of sleek pens. Smiling, Katie opened the journal, only for her smile to waver when something began to fall from the pages. Quickly, Katie pressed her thumb down against the page, stopping the paper–no photograph– from falling to the floor.

Katie’s heart gave a jolt as she flipped it over. Just a glance at it and she was taken back to the dark bar with warm amber lights in Boston. The picture was taken on the very night they had met. Her back had been turned to the camera, her drink meeting the very tips of her fingers as it was served to her. Jeremy had taken the photo. Why? She didn’t know, but now, he was sharing it with her.

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him, speechless.

Jeremy looked around, at what? Katie didn’t look away from him to know, before he leaned in with subtle instruction, “I figured it belonged with the first page.”

Katie’s let her gaze drop, looking over the elegant front on the page that would guide her along the entry. But Jeremy’s messy scrawl had already overtaken the page.

November 2021 – Boston.

Katie,

For You, Wherever You Go.

Boston was the first place I met you in that hotel bar. From that moment I knew you were something special. You weren’t just passing through my life; you were leaving an imprint on it. One that I will carry with me always. And I hope I left the same impression on you.

This journal is for all the places you’ll go and everything you’ll see—whether I’m with you or just cheering you on from wherever I am. But know this: my favorite journey started the moment I met you.

Katie’s lips fell apart, a shaky breath leaving them as she struggled to find the words today. Then, she spoke in a soft whisper. “Jeremy–”

Before Katie could thank him, Parker returned, slightly out of breath from his sprint up and down the stairs.

“His gift goes with mine,” Parker said, his smile boyish and proud.

“Oh?” Katie replied, curiosity lacing her voice. She passed the journal off quickly to Dottie, trusting her to guard its secrets.

Parker handed her a simple envelope, Mom written in neat, capital letters across the front. Katie opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the card. Before she could even pull it out, Parker began explaining. “Plane tickets. So you can come back to Boston and watch me play.”

Her breath caught, her hands trembling slightly as she closed the card and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Pulling back, she gazed up at him, her smile soft and full of pride. “It’s perfect. Everything is perfect.”

From the cozy house he had chosen for their holiday to the thoughtful gifts he’d chosen for everyone, Parker had planned every detail with care. Katie’s heart swelled with gratitude and a twinge of guilt for ever doubting that Christmas could be special anywhere but home.

The moment was interrupted by Dottie’s enthusiastic call. “Alright, everyone in front of the tree—family photo time!”

The twins groaned loudly, dragging their feet away from their new mini sticks. They had been gearing up to play hockey with Jeremy as their goaltender, but they knew better than to argue. Reluctantly, they joined their sister and dad by the tree. Ronnie and Monica took their places to the left, leaving room for Parker and Katie on the right.

In their matching pajamas, everyone lined up, leaving Jeremy sitting awkwardly in an armchair nearby.

“I can take the picture,” Jeremy offered, raising his hand.

“No,” Katie said quickly, her voice firmer than intended. Her gaze flicked to him, softening under the weight of his curious eyes. “You should be in the photo too.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“We insist,” Dottie chimed in with a knowing smile.

“You can stand next to me!” Megan piped up eagerly, but Jeremy was already moving.

“Looks like I can squeeze in right here,” he said softly, stepping behind Katie.

The warmth of his body pressed lightly against her back, grounding her. Then, his hand found its place at the small of her back, where her shirt met the waistband of her pants. The touch was subtle against the skin that played peek-a-boo there—so casual it could be dismissed as accidental by anyone else—but Katie felt the slow, deliberate circles his palm traced.

It wasn’t just a touch. It was a silent message. A thank you. Maybe even something more.

The careful gesture drew her eyes back to him, a fleeting glance that warned him not to get caught. Jeremy’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk, as if to say, I couldn’t help myself.

Wearing a small smile of her own, Katie turned her attention back to the camera. Around her, the room was filled with the warmth of Christmas morning—the hum of quiet laughter, the sparkle of lights on the tree, and the lingering scent of fresh coffee and pine.

For the first time since her divorce, the holiday didn’t feel like something to get through. It felt like a gift—a quiet, unspoken promise that maybe, just maybe, this was how it was meant to be.

The flash went off, capturing not just the moment, but the secrets she would forever keep, wrapped in the glow of a Christmas they’d never forget.

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50, @callsign-denmark , @xciciix , @puckmaidens , @hockeyboysimagines , @hagelpoint-3821

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #fanfic #nhl rpf #boston bruins #hockey rpf #dividers by: @adornedwithlight

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