#a scenario for you guys happy holidays

[whump-in-the-closet]

whumpees should wipe their own tears away more often. With scratched palms and battered hands, nails ripped, like they've clawed a path for their own existence out of the dirt itself. You know, the kind of crying where they tilt their head up, hoping gravity will push the tears back in, digging their palms into their eyes until they see sparks. Sharp inhales, sharper exhales. Trying to stop crying with everything in them, every nerve, every fiber, but the tears still leak through.

Willpower can only take them so far.

And better still, others are watching-- friends unsure or Whumper laughing. A stranger rushing to help or an enemy looking away to give them a semblance of privacy.

[ayukas]

18+ mdni

dry humping w/ nct dream 𖦹ࡇ𖦹

mark

dry humping with mark often starts when he's too tired to fully engage but still wants to satisfy you. he's stretched thin from schedules and late-night recordings, so his usual energy is depleted. you can't help but take advantage of his exhaustion though, wanting to please him in return for all the nights he's worshipped you. you carefully climb onto his lap, grinding against him while he lazily leans back, hands weakly gripping your hips. "fuck baby, i can't... too tired..." he mumbles, only to let out a gutteral groan when you press against him just right. the way his breathing turns ragged is so addictive, and soon he's thanking you in between pants, his fatigue melting into the pleasure you're giving him.

"fuuuck, needed this so bad. you're so good to me."

renjun

with renjun, it's the unspoken tension during quiet, intimate moments that get to you both. movie nights are his favourite way to unwind, but when his hand starts to idly roam up your thigh, you know it's only a matter of time. it's subtle at first—his lips casually brushing against your ear under the guise of a comment about the movie, or the way his soft fingers play around the hem of your shirt. before you know it, he's pulling you onto his lap, his voice low and filled with a mix of affection and need. "fuck—we're not even halfway through with the movie," he murmurs, breath warm against your ear as his hips push up to meet yours,

"but i just can't wait any longer."

jeno

for jeno, dry humping is an impatient, messy ordeal. it's unrestrained and raw, with sweat beading on both your foreheads as he grips your waist with bruising strength. the friction builds too fast, too strong, and within minutes, he's already trembling beneath you, gasping for air. "baby, please... can't take it anymore," he whines, voice breaking as he pleads to feel you fully. his desperation is palpable, and even though he tries his best to hold back, it never lasts long. the second he feels you grinding just right, your swollen clit grazing over his tip, he's begging with wide, lust-filled eyes,

"can i put it in, please? fuck, just the tip—i swear it'll feel so good..."

hyuck

dry humping with haechan always starts off as a battle of wills. he's glued to his computer, headset on, shouting profanities at his screen, but it's just so hot that you can't help but want to distract him. you straddle him quickly, blocking his view, and his whiny protests quickly morph into high-pitched moans when you starting grinding your heat against him. "baby, i was in the middle of a game!" he complains, though his hands immediately grab your hips to guide your movements, his hips jerking up to gain more friction. he's loud, burying his face in your neck as he lets out the most sinful noises. "fuuuck, you feel so fucking good," he groans, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

"you win, baby—ahh—just don't stop… fuck—please."

jaemin

jaemin is the king of control. he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. he's so smug and cocky, leaning back as he watches you struggle to keep your composure while grinding against him. it should piss you off, how he seems to be so unaffected while you're desperately trying to chase your high. "is this all you've got?" he teases, his tone dripping with mockery. he refuses to give in until you're utterly desperate, using the friction between your thin silk panties and his rough jeans to bring yourself to the brink while staying frustratingly composed himself. "c'mon baby, you can do better than this..." he taunts, his grip on your hips tightening just enough to make you shiver. and when you finally push him over the edge, his smirk only grows wider as he coos,

"good job baby, now lets see how much more desperate you can get for nana, hm?"

chenle

for chenle, the thrill is half the fun. he's all about the risk, pulling you into the backseat of his car even when your friends have only stepped away to grab some snacks at the petrol station. the mere idea of someone catching the two of you only spurs him on, getting him harder than ever. after all, he's just a whore for exhibitionism. "shh, you don't want our friends to see you like this, do you?" he whispers with a mischievous grin, though his own breathing is uneven as he grinds against you. his hands roam everywhere, tugging at your clothes just enough to make you squirm. the tension is electrifying, and he can’t hide the satisfied smirk when he feels you trembling above him.

"see? told you it'd be worth it."

jisung

jisung is so needy, it's overwhelming. just being near you has him worked up, but he's too shy to articulate exactly what he wants from you. instead, he opts to cling onto you, his big, veiny hands wandering all over your body shamelessly as he presses his hips against yours with little control. "need you s'bad, please..." he stammers out, face flushed as he buries it against your shoulder. it's sweet in its desperation, his inexperience making him all the more endearing. he's a mess of shaky hands and ragged breaths, and when he finally lets go, he's holding onto you like you're his lifelife, whispering pleas while trembling as ropes of his release stain the inside of his boxers.

"ahh fuuuck, you're amazing."

[acciocriativity]

KIND EYES ON AN INTIMIDATING FACE - AN CS SCENARIO

Ateez Masterlist

Throughout your career, you have had many blessings. From your debut as a solo idol with the amount of freedom you had, which was uncommon in smaller labels such as yours, to hold your space in the industry after 15 years since then. In all those years, you explored as much as you could with your producing skills and acting roles. However, you felt like yourself the most ever since you started your very own YouTube show.

In the short history of it, there were many moments that unexpectedly became viral through the 2 years you've hosted it. Many of those you enjoyed revisiting from time to time for different reasons. Some of your dearest friends today turned so because of an episode, which you'd forever be grateful for.

However, a forever fan favorite (and maybe one of your favorites to date) was when Ateez were your guests back in 2023. You saw the clip so many times on Tiktok and other platforms that you had it stuck in your mind and to this day, you still received questions about it in fan meetings and other TV shows, which was always fun for you.

The viral clip includes you and 3 of their members, Hongjoong, Jongho, and San, as the main parties involved. It started when Hongjoong asked you a simple question: "Who do you think is the most friendly to start a conversation with?" The context that is left out on the clip is important. You mentioned how you tended to have a hard time making new friends in the industry, as you were known to be introverted, and many colleagues could be intimidated by your name alone. It was by the end of the interview when everyone was the most comfortable, and somehow, the hardships of idol life, appearances, and stereotypes became a topic of conversation.

Then, Jongho mentioned it had to be Yunho or maybe Yeosang while you pretended to think. He said something about them being the nicest looking. Many of the others agreed with that statement, adding that they were angels lookalike. Which, yes, you couldn't deny it.

But that wasn't your answer.

There were full-on gasps when you said San’s name. The man himself looked around like that was someone else’s name. His reaction was analyzed by the internet, who declared that he looked like a confused kitten, a very cute confused kitten.

His ears became red in a second, truly flabbergasted as he hid his flustered smile with both hands. "Me?" You didn't know if he intended to ask in a such a cute, almost bashful way, but it was how it sounded to you.

"I have a dear friend of mine, whose birthday is today, what a coincidence." All of the boys seemed to hang onto your words, one of them leaning in more than the others. "He was born with a set of kind eyes on an intimidating face, so people tend to think he's mean. But he's actually one of the kindest and warmest souls I had the pleasure to meet. You remind me of him". Your tone was soft, and your eyes were genuine, and the last phrase you said directly to San himself.

All of them oooed and aaaaed while cheering, including your staff. It was a whole mess after that. There were so many cuts because the focus on the topic at hand was thrown out of the window. San was teased relentlessly, so much so his entire face was red as a tomato, and as the perpetrator, you intervened on his behalf. That last part made the cut and viral clip end with San’s watery full of emotions eyes on you.

There were many theories if he simply became emotional after your words, if it was because of how much he laughed behind the scenes or if there was something else there, something that started with lo and ended with ve.

What did you know for a fact? Every time that clip was mentioned to San, he'd blush like the first time, and the whole thing would go viral again.

[solstices-dreams]

𝟐𝟓 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒. ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅ .

a series of questions for the days leading up to christmas for shifters!! Some of these questions are Christmas specific and others aren’t, feel free to answer what you want and how you want, ex. moodboards, short answers, longs answers. And if you’d like, you can reblog so it reaches more shifters. Merry Christmas and Happy Shifting :) post tags are #shiftmas #shiftmas2024 tagged: @arishifter

⌗ 𝟏. christmas caroling ; What are a few songs that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐. gingerbread houses ; What does your house look like in your dr? Who do you live with? What is your favorite aspect of your house?

⌗ 𝟑. eggnog ; What is some drama going on in your dr?

⌗ 𝟒. sledding ; What does a hang out with you friend group look like? Where do you go? Who is your friend group?

⌗ 𝟓. snowman ; What is your OOTD? (outfit of the day)

⌗ 𝟔. stockings ; What is your family like? What are your relationships with different members? Any extended family? Who is visiting for Christmas?

⌗ 𝟕. candy canes ; What gives you dr euphoria? (like gender euphoria but for your dr…)

⌗ 𝟖. mistletoe ; Who is your s/o? What is your dynamic and how do you spend time together? Are you two doing something special for the holiday?

⌗ 𝟗. snowflakes ; What are some headcannons you have about people in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟎. icicles ; What is your occupation in your dr? Your coworkers? (Or if student, your classmates?) What is your favorite and least favorite aspect of your occupation?

⌗ 𝟏𝟏. tree skirt ; How did you find out about shifting? What was your first dr and what is your main dr now?

⌗ 𝟏𝟐. ornaments ; What are some objects you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? Why do you have them in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟑. sleigh bells ; Are there any priveleges you have in your dr that you don’t in your cr? What are they?

⌗ 𝟏𝟒. cookie cutters ; What are some smells that remind you of your dr? Why?

⌗ 𝟏𝟓. elf on the shelf ; who is your main wingman/women/person? What is your dynamic? What do you guys do when you hang out?

⌗ 𝟏𝟔. wrapping paper ; What is your favorite way to script? Why is it your favorite way?

⌗ 𝟏𝟕. gift tags ; What is your camera roll like in your dr? (photos or just describe it)

⌗ 𝟏𝟖. snowballs ; What is a silly scenario you are looking forward to in your dr?

⌗ 𝟏𝟗. mittens ; What are your hobbies in your dr? How do you usually spend your down time?

⌗ 𝟐𝟎. ice skates ; What is your ideal date in your dr? (friends or s/o)

⌗ 𝟐𝟏. coal ; What is something unpleasant you have/have to experience in your dr? Why are you not looking forward to it?

⌗ 𝟐𝟐. tinsel ; What is something fun or random you have scripted? (ex. Thundersnow is more common, you have a ring that allows you to read minds, you have good luck with thrifting, you’re good at gambling.)

⌗ 𝟐𝟑. fir tree ; What are some traditions you have in your dr but not your cr? Why?

⌗ 𝟐𝟒. hot cocoa ; put together a moodboard of your dr or you in your dr

⌗ 𝟐𝟓. christmas ; How are you spending your christmas? Who with? What might be some gifts you are giving and to who?

divider credits.

[kazusys]

— kissing under the mistletoe.

kissing genshin men under the mistletoe! / fluff / no cw / other: you’re not dating in all scenarios! (❕) a/n: i did NOT proofread. but this took me a bit… hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! happy holidays! :)

characters included: albedo, childe, cyno, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, tighnari, wriothesley, xiao, and zhongli.

wc: ~4.4k words

“relax, it’ll be fine!” he said. “just lead her to the mistletoe when you two are chatting at the party; after all, you both are probably going to stick together the entire time anyways.”

that was kaeya’s advice. of course albedo took it, considering the probabilities of it working due to his insane roster of people fawning over him for just existing. of course he’d be more educated in this area.

but how would he be able to enact said advice if the guy who gave the advice in the first place was busy taking up all your time at the stupid party?

albedo was ready to just head home at this point. there was no point in waiting for you if he was most likely going to chicken out in the end anyways.

a boisterous laugh from kaeya brought albedo out of his little slump as he looked over, watching as the guy pushed you lightly his direction. you seemed… almost bashful. it was cute.

you shuffled through the people dancing and walking around before stopping in front of him.

“hey, ‘bedo.” you smile.

“(y/n), it’s good to see you here.” albedo returned, realizing that besides the initial hello you two shared before you were whisked away elsewhere, this was the first time he’d been able to talk to you tonight.

“good to see you too, i was thinking— there’s this place i wanna show you outside of the party, would you want an escape for a bit?”

he followed you immediately.

the spot was serene. the backdrop of all the constellations and the hanging moon in the sky were in full view, a couple trees here and there adorning the already pleasing landscape. albedo wished he had brought something to paint with, but a mental remembrance would have to do for now.

“it’s… stunning.” he murmured out as you continued walking. you went over to a tree whose leaves leaned forward just a bit, providing some shade. you sat down under it, patting the ground next to you.

this was his sort of paradise. the cool breezes, the quiet atmosphere, the world seemingly frozen as you two sat so close that one movement would have your arms brushing together.

he made that one movement.

you gave him a glance before seemingly staring at the sky. “look up in the branches of the tree.”

he did so without a word, his eyes zeroing in at the singular, small irregularity amongst the greenery of the tree.

mistletoe.

a light blush spread across his face, his eyes widening as they faced yours, which were already staring at him. he forced his expression to go back to being as neutral as he could manage, before cupping your face with one hand and bringing you in for a kiss.

needless to say, kaeya was a good matchmaker.

the holidays have always been a heartwarming time with ajax’s family, not to mention that ever since you joined him, he waits twice as excitedly to see them again.

he loves the domestication of you with his younger siblings, his parents, him; in a warm house with snowflakes floating down amongst the scenic landscape outside and everyone inside away from the troubles of the world. all his loved ones, together, in one place, safe.

taking your hands and spinning you around, he lets go of one to hold your hand as you both sprint to the house ahead. you love how his eyes shine as he knocks on the door, his younger siblings tackling him and squeezing you tightly to the ground with his parents reprimanding them and herding them back inside.

you’re grateful for the warmth of the house as you shed off your winter gear and help ajax get off his as his siblings spout off with questions for him that they couldn’t fit in the letters sent back and forth between them.

at one point, they bring their big brother in to whisper something in hushed voices. ajax chuckles as they scurry off, shaking his head and smiling brightly at you. he almost seems like a kid again, the way his smile reaches far and he looks like he can’t get any happier.

you see teucer poke his head out from behind a wall and beckon ajax over. he goes over, but not without a glance to you showing off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

you wait in anticipation with a smile as you hear everyone with him giggle and push him out with a newly acquired headpiece, a headband with a string attached to a mistletoe.

a few seconds go by with your laughter before ajax teasingly says, “so, are you going to come over here, or?”

you be sure to give a thumbs up to his siblings before tackling him in a hug and bringing him in close for a smooch or two.

“stay still,” you softly chided, “i’m not going to be able to get all this sand out if you don’t.”

“sorry.” cyno replied, glancing back at the ceiling. of all methods…

this was purely tighnari and collei’s doing. they’re the only ones who know cyno’s preferred place to sit as you “help get the bits of persistent sand in his hair” even though he knows that he can do it himself.

when had they placed that there?

cyno quietly sighed as you finished with the ends of his strands, carefully taking off your gloves and putting down your brush on the towels beneath you both.

“alright, then— good night, cyno.” you say as you get up, although hesitant. you wanted to spend more time with him, but with his narrow schedule, you don’t mind putting his rest before your own desires. you wait for him to stand and get off the towels, which he does, before cradling them in a way so that the sand on top of them won’t spill. you give a small “bye, sleep well,” before turning to leave.

you feel his coarse fingers delicately wrap around your upper arm, a gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you back with a force that you’d be able to escape from if you wanted to.

“cy—”

“look up.”

you do as told.

as soon as your eyes meet the red and green symbol, you feel the same fingers that pulled you to him hold your chin, bringing your focus to him.

he speaks through the meeting of your eyes, and you allow him with a response of your lips against his.

he separates after a bit before diving back in. after such a small taste of paradise, he can’t help but want more.

of course someone put a mistletoe above the doorway of the tavern. and of course he didn’t remove it incase you came by today. and of course kaeya teased him for it.

no matter how annoying, he’d go through it if it meant you’d come to him at the end of the day.

and that you did.

you rushed past the door in excitement to tell him about your hectic, but interesting, day as diluc ignored the knowing stare he got from the calvary captain.

with a small smile, you two stayed talking until midnight, when diluc finished cleaning and closed up the tavern.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘luc.” you smile, as he does the same despite his diminishing hope at being able to kiss you under the protruding plant that you two were still standing under.

just as he came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one who’d initiate the kiss, you leaned in close to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “you’re obvious when you want something, you know that?”

he chuckled a bit after he recovered. “you just know me well.”

he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in again.

“your office is so… bland. for someone like you, i expected at least some interesting decorations especially during this season.”

“‘for someone like you’?” kaeya rose an eyebrow, eyeing the box you set on his desk. “and furthermore, i haven’t had the time to decorate for the season! i’m always busy with work or spending time with you.”

“or at the tavern,” you pointed out, taking items and sorting them out across the floor from the box. “hmm, red or blue?”

“both. and what if i was just waiting for you to come in and help me since we both did a pretty good job last year?” it wasn’t a total lie. he was waiting for you, but only to be able to spend more time together.

“straight line or dips? then i think that’d be a lie,” you countered, “after all, your office was as brightly adorned as the outside all those years back before i came in to help.”

“on the walls? straight would be easier. dips would look good on the desk, though.” kaeya said as he adjusted some of the ribbons he fluffed out. “i like your company.”

a smile creased your features as you stayed quiet at the thought for a few seconds before replying with a “i like yours, too.”

eventually, you both stepped back to revel the sight. you sipped the last bits of the now lukewarm drink kaeya brought for you earlier. you remembered the way your fingers brushed against each other and the small spark that you hoped he shared.

you felt him brush a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

when did he get so close?

he tilted your head up to the ceiling, your heart beating fast and resounding in your ears.

and then he kissed you, soft and delicately.

amidst the glowing lights and cheery decor, nothing could’ve matched the high spirits you and kaeya were feeling right then and there.

kazuha's observant. he always has been. so he’ll always know when you’re not giving yourself as much love as you should be. case in point…

“i know that i am not the most perfected in this art…” says the guy who can make cussing sound flowery and sweet sounding, “but i made this small book for you. it’s full of haikus and other forms of poetry containing everything i find attractive about you.”

you take the quite hefty book full of papers and some apparent trinkets sticking out of some of the pages (like flowers that remind him of you and such) with care. its title is (y/n), my muse and eternity.

you can’t seem to find your words. “kazuha… this is…”

he smiles at how happy you look.

he knows that insecurities are far from that of the like of small insects and the such, in which you can just kill them with a little flick or small press of a youth’s finger.

insecurities are plagues, brought from hell itself to block out what objectivity sees.

he knows that his words won’t be enough to quell your troubles permanently, but he’ll damn well try just to see that smile and see you free from what’s trapping you in that moment.

he flips the pages to the end where papers face you devoid of ink. he gestures above, where a small plant glistens amidst the dull space where you two are seated. you swear that wasn’t there when you walked in.

you feel him slowly trace your arm, as if asking permission to pull you closer. you lace your fingers together, relishing in the warmth of his presence as you let yourself come closer.

his lips meet yours, soft as his appearance but as passionate as his dreams and ambitions.

and when you two come apart, he takes ink and a quill from a nearby table and fills in the blank page with new words, swiftly getting the mistletoe from above to tuck into the pages like a bookmark.

lips—

with the snow falling

in the slumber of the world

Heaven-sent are they

with warmth to my days

with feelings of home in you

paradise is found

“a private show right now?” you softly laugh.

“exactly! and you’re in for a treat today— i picked up a book per someone’s recommendation about the significance of different flowers and their meanings! and i will incorporate that in the trick i’m about to show you!” he spouted excitedly, bowing in front of you as he usually does before a performance.

“well then, let’s see what you’ve got for me today that’s different than all the other shows you’ve already shown me!” you say, sitting in the chair he prepared ahead of time.

he smiles. taking his hat off again, he swirls his fingers over the opening.

“oh, it seems there’s something stuck; give me a second…” and with a yank, out he pulls a bouquet of rainbow roses. he offers them to you with a warm grin.

you take it with wide eyes, holding it close to you as you relish in how your fingers brushed against his and the remembrance of the meaning of these flowers.

taking advantage of the proximity, lyney brushes back a piece of your hair, reaching behind your ear and pulling out a piece of mistletoe with small buds blossoming on the branches.

you feel your face become unbearably hot.

he leans in to whisper. “this part isn’t a trick, by the way… these flowers represent my feelings rather well, i think. do you accept them?”

you can feel your heart pounding as you nod, his lips reaching yours as soon as you do. it’s passionate, just as the flowers represent.

once you both pull back, he says, “how do you rate your performance?”

“i’ll rate it ten out of ten if you kiss me again.”

he does. 10/10!!

what a stupid touchy feeling tradition. absolutely stupid. absolutely not worth his time setting up just because of your stupid romantic fantasies.

well, i guess that makes him stupid, then.

if all goes wrong, he has at least five back-up plans ready. so there’s nothing to lose, right?

except maybe possibly hopefully the norm of friendship you two have changing into something more.

but, he knows that if his hopes are set too high, they can come crashing down more hurtful than falling from a fifty-story skyscraper.

so he settles for stomping out his icky hopes and dreams for this encounter in favor of not going insane. at most, you were probably going to just peck him on the cheek as a ‘friendly gesture’. or slap him altogether.

it was still a good ten minutes or so before your designated meeting time, so he closed his eyes and waited beneath one of the shady areas of the forest hangout you both discussed on, listening for the sound of your footsteps. to his mild surprise, he heard them coming just a few minutes later.

you emerged from the trees, your eyes widening a bit before smiling to seemingly cover it up. “scara’! sorry, did i make you wait for long?”

he shook his head, eyeing the basket you were holding before meeting your gaze. “you’re fine. i just arrived.” which was a lie, he came extra early to prepare.

“that’s good to hear. i met with the traveler a few days ago, and he taught me a few new recipes. i was wondering if you’d like to try them out?” you say, taking a small picnic blanket out. scaramouche offered to take it as he spread it out under the tree he was leaning against.

“sounds good, your cooking’s always something i look forward to.” he replied, throwing that compliment in for good measure.

you laugh softly, opening the basket and setting out the dishes. he can’t help but notice a certain small plant in there as well for a brief second before it’s gone, covered by a few napkins shifting around as you arrange the food and utensils.

ah. well…

he stops you momentarily, gently moving your hands off the basket as he brings it closer to himself, knelt down as he rummages through it and pulls out the small piece of mistletoe inside.

you’re quick to talk. “oh, that’s… that’s just a lucky charm i carry around. i… a friendsaidthat it’s supposed to bring good luck! and fortune! and i brought it to ensure that you wouldn’t uh—get food poisoning or something, y’know? or so that i won’—!”

you’re startled by scaramouche pulling you to your feet, a smirk on his face as his hands trail up to your face. his thumbs trace the sides of it as he says, “if you look up, i’m sure you’ll find something very confidence-boosting.”

you do.

he slowly leans in, like he’s seen other couples do. and he swears you’re something else and that something zapped his lips and spread through the rest of his body, because the moment your lips met it felt as if a small electrocution was taking place in each part of his being.

it’s almost so overwhelming that he also swears that he can feel his own heartbeat in there. what did you do?

a small paradise of his own, and he plans on never losing it.

(also something ate a portion your food— it wasn’t you or scaramouche— but hey, at least that means that he can spend time with you cooking that same dish again!)

sleeping out in the forest can be difficult, but for people like tighnari, you just get used to it.

however, that’s not the case this time around with the only sound that his ears seem to be registering being the sounds of you outside your tent, sitting on a stump, writing in your plant/personal(? he thinks?) journal, and very much awake after he told you to rest up for tomorrow.

he sighs, getting up. he’s not letting you do this.

you immediately turn your head to the sound of him exiting his tent, knowing you’re in for an earful about taking proper care of yourself. you know he cares, but at least wait until you’re finished writing these last few words…

“i told you at least an hour ago to head to sleep. you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.” he walks closer, ending in front of you with a hand on his hip, which he drops as soon as you look up at him.

“i know, but…”

“you can fill in whatever you want to fill in tomorrow. come on.” he gently ushers you to your feet, taking your hand and confiscating your notebook.

“tighn—!”

“i’ll give it back tomorrow. i don’t trust you not to write in it in your tent.” he leaves no room for complaint, evading all your attempts in retrieving the book until you eventually give up with a more than devastated look.

you reluctantly lie down, tighnari watching you till you put your covers over yourself.

“good night, (y/n),” he gives a small smile, “tell me if anything nearby irritates your senses. i won’t mind being waken up for that.”

and with that, he leaves.

he spares a glance at the notebook in his hand, still open to the page you were writing on. he had no intentions of reading it, but when your name’s written down in someone’s time, you’re bound to be curious why.

𝘮���𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

— 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

you’ve certainly done your research. after swiftly skimming through that portion…

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

— 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘺. 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵

that’s where it ends. in the book, a small mistletoe plant is nestled in between the pages. tighnari can feel his face heat and his tail jerking around excitedly behind him, prompting him to take a deep breath to calm down. it’s no use, really.

you like him?

he can’t help the smile that flutters up, taking the plant out and dropping off your notebook in his tent.

he goes over to yours, knocking his foot against the rocks outside as a sort of doorbell. he knows you’re awake.

meanwhile, you’re panicking and on the verge of running out and taking your chances in the dangers of the forest in the dark. you hear his knocking.

“you read it.” you manage from behind the curtain like doors. “i’m sor—”

“may i come in?”

he hears you inhale deeply. hesitant footsteps make their way over, opening the entrance to him.

immediately, he takes your hand. lifting his other arm, the mistletoe he has a hold of dangles above you both.

“i would,” is all he says before his lips press against yours.

both of your worlds spin, and every other noise in the avidya forest blurs away.

when you separate, he’s the first to speak with rosy cheeks decorating his features.

“mistletoe is also categorized as a parasitic plant, meaning it depends on other plants to survive by drawing nutrients from them. be sure to add that to your journal.”

“tighnari.”

he kisses you again in apology.

“your knuckles are all bruised again…” you mutter, taking his hands into your own. you brush your thumbs over the especially calloused areas.

“it’s really no big deal…” he murmurs, thinking you to be sweet for caring so heavily about him.

you get your bandages out. “are there any other places that are injured that i should know about?”

he shakes his head no, but then answers verbally realizing that with your eyes focusing on his hands, you probably didn’t see.

a couple minutes later and you’re done, a lot sooner than wriothesley would’ve wanted.

“flex your fingers.” he does so. you take the hand you just bandaged to fix one loose end. “i think that’s it…”

he subconsciously holds your hand in his. as per tradition— a sort of inside joke between you two— you bring his fingers to your lips and kiss his bandaged knuckles with a smile.

when you do the same to the other hand, he chuckles. you look at his head tilted upwards, looking up at the ceiling. you trail up as well, your eyes widening for a moment.

“it looks like sigewinne must’ve slipped in and done some decorating for me. we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

you recall her words from a few days ago to you. “well, if you don’t make a move soon, don’t be surprised when i intervene.”

you meet his eyes. he looks… bashful? embarrassed?

you gather up your confidence before it evaporates and move up to kiss him.

He stiffens before melting into the kiss, bringing you closer with the hand not holding yours on the small of your back and the other intertwining your fingers.

he chased your lips after you separated, and well; you both didn’t leave his office for a bit.

you definitely made sure to hug and give sigewinne a new sticker sheet afterwards.

you thought up the idea a while back, but never acted on it. xiao was… well, xiao. you simply didn’t think he’d like it, especially if he didn’t like you in that way. that’d just be awkward.

so you never did it, until one day after you consulted zhongli.

“it seems he does feel the same way, after all the talks we’ve shared of the topic being you, to whom he speaks very highly of.”

you smile at the thought now as you sit beside xiao, explaining the topic of mistletoe, which apparently he overheard from some people walking past that he wanted to learn about. what he heard you don’t know, so you prompt to start from the very beginning from its origins all the way to its tradition.

he stays quiet with a few questions throughout your speech, seemingly deep in thought.

you think that’s a good sign.

when you’re done, you look at him only to find him already staring at you.

“would you want to do that with me?”

your eyes widen at the sudden sentence before you throw out a response. “yes, i would.”

“i’ll be right back.” and before you can say anything, he vanishes. he comes back a few minutes later with something in his hand. a small mistletoe.

you stand up to his level, eyeing the blush beginning to spread across his face.

you smile serenely, taking his hand holding the plant and raising it above your heads. you then take the lead and lean in to kiss him.

in all of his years of being alive, xiao thinks he’s never felt so… actually alive. it’s always like that around you. you take him away from the automatic responses he gives and seemingly endless monotony that is slaying monsters and the sort. you give him some sort of essence he can’t describe that he’s been lacking all these years, decades, centuries, millenniums.

he loves you so dearly.

and when you separate, he finds himself seeking more, pulling you closer and kissing you again.

it’s his sort of reward for suffering for so long without this, he supposes.

“it’s rather late,” zhongli glanced over at the night sky, “shall we get going?”

you nod. “thanks for accompanying me today; though, i still feel guilty for taking up your time…”

he gives you a reassuring smile. “it is of no concern. i was not particularly busy, and any time spent with you is never wasted.”

you smile back. “you flatter me too much.”

“it is not as if you do not deserve it.” he responds. you can’t help but widen your smile. he continues speaking. “you’re staying over at the baiju guesthouse for now until your renovations are completed, correct?”

“i am! it’s been pleasant so far, and the decorations adorning the building for the season are definitely a sight to wake up to!”

a good amount of talking later, and finally at around midnight, you both arrive.

“i’m afraid i now must apologize for taking up your time, you ought to rest for tomorrow. shall we meet up soon?” his expression is soothing, but if you look a little deeper, a small glint in his eyes shows a bit of hopefulness and something else.

“of course, and…” you trail off, glancing up at the archway you two are standing under in front of the guesthouse. “happy holidays, zhongli.”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek before hurrying away, leaving a stunned zhongli in your wake, hand to the place where you kissed him, seemingly in awe.

he says your name delicately, like a sacred word meant to be worshipped. you stop your hand on the door, turning your head over to see him reach for your hands and spinning you around.

a small intake of air leaves you as he walks you both back under the mistletoe above that you spotted earlier. he then leans in close.

“may i?”

and you close the distance.

happy holidays indeed.

©️kazusys — 24/12/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[yukioos]

APOCALYPSE

SUMMARY: jayce talis x reader // after dealing with much criticism from heimerdinger and complaints from viktor about hextech, he finally walks home and ends his day peacefully lying on your chest.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys! i’m working on a viktor x vampire reader fic so that’ll probably come out this or next week. happy holidays, have a good day! this is 1.6k words

WARNINGS: not proofread, angst, jayce is going through a lot, depression, stress, anxiety, reader n jayce are married, pet names, reader is referred to as ‘mrs.’ and ‘wife’

jayce had to sit in a room and listen to heimerdinger criticize and critique his work for three hours. three whole hours were spent listening to him complain about hextech, and the professor wouldn’t let the scientist utter a single word. eventually, he just tuned out the sounds and words from the elder, and instead tried to think about you, his wife.

most of his days were spent thinking about you anyway. but sometimes your relationship would go through rough patches because of how little time jayce was at home. you understood he couldn’t be home all the time, he was a scientist, after all. the city of piltover heavily depended on him, and you knew this put major stress on the man.

sometimes he would become distant, and you would become worried for him and his health. days without hearing a word from your husband were common, you became accustomed to it. because of this, you cherished your days with him, and continue to do so whenever you encounter him.

jayce didn’t know how much of an impact he had on you by not being in your life as often as he wanted to. you were everything to him. you were the reason he did everything for piltover, it was all to protect you.

but he didn’t know how unhealthy it was for him to skip meals and hardly get any sleep just to keep the city safe. he knew the city wouldn’t be as developed without him, but he always felt the need to do better. when heimerdinger critiqued his work constantly, he began to feel overwhelmed and anxious with every step he took, in fear of not pleasing someone.

he once snapped at viktor for incorrectly solving a formula used for the hextech. unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed how agitated he had become because he was too focused. he began to hate himself more and more with every mistake he made and overworked himself past his limits.

as the days passed, you hardly heard from jayce. worry clouded your mind, and your heart raced quickly once your phone rang. you picked it up and glanced around your bedroom.

“um, hello?” you stuttered, seeing professor heimerdinger’s contact on the screen. you tilted your head and thought to yourself why the professor would be calling you at this time, at eleven at night.

“ah, mrs. talis! i wish we could speak on better terms, it is nice to speak to you again. however, eh, your husband has… collapsed. i was wondering if you could bring him back to your residence once we wake him up?” his chirpy voice seemed duller than usual, with a hint of dissatisfaction. he glanced at viktor, who gave him a halfhearted smile as he continued pacing around the room.

“wh— huh? i’ll pick him up but why has he passed out? i’m confused, professor, is he—”you began to ramble, overthinking all the scenarios that could have happened to your loved one. he hasn’t come home in days, you should’ve been at the academy with him. you should’ve been by his side, maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you were.

“please, mrs. talis, do not worry. i believe he hasn’t slept for a healthy amount of time, so he just passed out. no biggie, do not feel frightened for him. he is okay, he may just be… taking a power nap.” another voice is heard on the other end of the line, and the professor pauses, “ah, i apologize. i must leave now, as i have more work to do. please head over to the academy and pick him up. thank you, goodbye!” he replies, speeding up his words near the end of the call. he hangs up, leaving you with unanswered questions.

you slowly take the phone away from your ear and stare at the frame on your nightstand. it’s a photo of you and jayce getting married, and he looked as handsome as ever. tears were visible on both of your faces, mascara ran down your cheeks. it was the happiest day of both of your lives.

you really hoped he was okay.

when you arrived at the academy, you walked up to the professor’s lab, as you had studied there years ago. your heels clacked against the tiled floor, having to use a flashlight to see through the dark hallways. you gently knocked on the professor’s door and were met face-to-face with jayce’s lab partner, viktor.

“hello, mrs. talis. it is nice to meet you. as the professor also said, i wish it were under different circumstances.” he smiled and turned his head toward jayce, who ashamedly looked down at the ground. heimerdinger was gently speaking to him, but it seemed as if jayce wasn’t listening, like he was in his own headspace.

he had dark eyebags and had lost weight, his skin became more pale and ghostly. it was clear he wasn’t taking care of himself.

your eyebrows turned upwards, and you slowly approached your husband with worried eyes. heimerdinger cleared the path to him and nodded, permitting you to speak to him.

“jayce, sweetheart,” you mumbled, looking up at his form as he sat on the stool, you bent down so his eyes would look at yours. you brought your manicured hand up to his face and rubbed his cheek.

“we’re gonna go home, okay? you gotta take a break,” you persuaded, continuing to comfortingly rub his pale cheek. it was always one of the things that made him feel warm and cared for.

he nodded and mumbled an, “okay,” before slowly standing up and waiting for you to lead him outside. you gently placed your hand in his, and he weakly curled his larger hand around yours. you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to viktor and heimerdinger, then walked the path toward your shared house.

once the two of you arrived, jayce slipped his shoes off, and you did as well. you lead him up to your bedroom, where you suggested he’d properly sleep for at least eight hours.

the both of you slipped off your clothes and changed into comfortable ones, but what bothered you was that jayce hadn’t said a word since you brought him to the house. so when you dimmed the lights and laid on your side of the bed, you were surprised to see jayce hadn’t curled up into your side yet. he was normally a cuddle bug, but maybe he’s changed.

his eyes looked sullen as he stared at the ceiling. he sighed and turned his head towards you without a smile or word, staring deep into your soul, as if he was trying to tell you something.

you could guess what he was thinking, so you opened your arms up to him. he slowly moved to your side of the bed, and laid his body on yours. he let out a large sigh and perfectly laid his head on your chest. his breathing suddenly became more relaxed once you began to scratch his scalp, a gesture he loved ever since you two settled into a romantic relationship.

you began to feel cold drops of liquid on your chest, ones that you could only guess were tears. when you glanced down, you saw him biting his trembling lip. his body was shaking and holding onto you for dear life, and your heart broke at the sight. you would never want your husband to feel whatever he must’ve been feeling at that moment.

“jayce, baby, what’s wrong? i’m getting worried about you,” you mumbled, tilting his head up with your free hand. he began to let out sobs and whimpers, trying to hold them back but failing miserably. his walls broke down just at the caring words from his wife.

“‘m sorry ‘m not good enough,” he gasped, trying to take in more air. you and his mother always told him he was perfect, that he didn’t need fixing. hell, he even started telling others that, but he never would’ve believed he would’ve stopped thinking he was good enough for himself. his world came crashing down, all the stress plummeted to his heart, and in his lover’s arms.

“jayce, you’re perfect. you’re good enough for me, you’re good enough for the city, you should be good enough for yourself. you’re amazing, do you even know how much you’ve done for this city? you should be proud of yourself, honey!” you praised, causing his whimpers and sobs to become quieter, as he felt loved by your words.

“do you have an idea on how to not… dive into the headspace you’re in again?” you asked, wanting him to have control over the situation. maybe he would feel a bit better that way.

“can you make that decision for me?” he mumbled, not wanting to think too much. he just wanted to rest on your plush chest, with your warm arms trapping him in your hold.

you giggled, “mhm. how does a couple of days or a week off work sound? i’m sure the professor would let you have a break, baby. you need it.” you felt a smile and nod against your chest, and glanced down to see his almost asleep figure. his grip on your body became loose, even as his hand lingered on your thigh.

you were glad he was back home and safe. hopefully he would feel better and take it easy by the time he got back to working on the hextech.

even though he was almost asleep, you murmured soft praises to the man, including quiet ‘i love you’s,’ hoping it eased his mind. he fell asleep happy and peacefully in your arms, knowing he was loved and perfect in your eyes.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Home • Mattheo Riddle x bff!fem!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Summary: y/n wants to make something special for Mattheo's birthday, but little does she know how special it is about to get.

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Fluff; English is not my first language.

A/N: Thank you guys so, so much for over 300 followers, love y'all!! That said, I don't think I like this one lol. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tag list for this story: @lilloves-34

“Aw, how lovely it is to see you two!”

“Hi, mum.”

Your mother held you warmly before turning to the person next to you.

“You’ve grown taller, Mattheo, dear.”

“As always, Mrs. y/l/n.”

She held him too, and Mattheo did his best to return the hug. His dark eyes turned to you and you offered him a small, affectionate smile. He suddenly looked more comfortable and smiled at your mother when she let him go. 

“Leave your luggage here, dears, it can be unpacked later. Come, I’ve made you two some snacks.”

You and Mattheo follow her into the kitchen, and you can’t help but look at Mattheo. Partly because, well, it’s not like he wasn’t the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen, but mostly because you know he’s not always comfortable in your mother’s house, despite having living here for over two years now. 

Mattheo and you had been best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. But as the years went by, knowing Mattheo was alone at Hogwarts during the holidays made you feel so upset that you started asking him if he wanted to spend it with you, which he accepted with a gratitude he had a hard time hiding. And, naturally, you also asked him if he wanted to come for summer break here as well. From the day Mattheo met your mother, she adored him and soon considered him a full member of the family, sending him sweets and gifts while at school just like she did for you, offering him gifts for his birthdays and Christmas as well, and he started coming every holiday without you asking him. You knew Mattheo was thankful for your mother’s hospitality and affection, as he always made sure to let her know, but you knew - despite him doing his best to hide it - that he felt that he somehow didn’t deserve the kindness and care you mother had shown him. It broke your heart to know he felt like that, but Mattheo wasn’t the kind to easily speak about his feelings so you never dared to bring it up, only sometimes telling him how happy you were that he was here, and that this house was his home.

But what your mother - or anyone else for that matter - didn’t know was that now having Mattheo around at all times was bittersweet for you. You absolutely loved having him in your house, where you knew he was finally loved and cared for, but it also made you two closer and made feelings for him grow - feelings you didn’t know were shared or not. It was slowly breaking you from the inside, and you didn’t know how to deal with it. Of course, you could talk about it with Pansy, who was your other best friend, or your mother, but you perfectly knew what they would both tell you: “tell him how you feel.” Merlin, no. You just couldn’t. Not only because if Mattheo didn’t feel the same way, your friendship would never be the same at best - or completely destroyed in the worst case scenario - and in both cases, you knew it wouldn’t take long for Mattheo to decide to leave your house. If I ever do tell him how I feel, it’s better to wait until we’re both out of Hogwarts and have our own places. 

You walked in the kitchen to find your favourite snacks on the table. 

“Aw, thanks, mum.”

“Yes, thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re more than welcome. Come, sit.”

The three of you sat around the table, you being next to Mattheo on one side and your mother on the other. You and Mattheo started eating while your mother asked about yours and Mattheo’s lives at school. You and Mattheo took turns in making conversation and even had a few laughs as you recalled some of the funny memories you had. After both your stomachs were full, you decided to go unpack your luggage. Mattheo had the same idea, and went to the bedroom that was now essentially his. You both finished at the same time, and found yourselves in the corridor of the second floor. 

“I’ll go take a shower,” Mattheo said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

He walked to the bathroom, but before he came in, you called for him. “Matty?” 

He turned to you and you continued, “As always, this is your home.” 

He gave you a single nod before quickly turning away and going into the bathroom. Letting out a small sigh, you went down downstairs in the living room and found your mother reading a book. 

“Mum?”

She raised her head from her book, “Yes?”

You sat on the sofa next to her, a small smile on your face.

“You know Mattheo’s birthday is coming up?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I already got his gifts and have everything I need to make his favourite cake. Why?”

“Well,” you said, “I thought that we could do something else for a change. We usually have quiet birthdays and it’s nice but I’d really like to do something for Mattheo this time.”

Your mother frowned, “Like what?”

“A surprise party?” you answered. “I could write to the boys and invite them to celebrate?” 

“That’s a good idea, darling. I’ll soon go to Diagon Alley to buy some decorations and, well, more food and drinks.”

You smiled and went to give her a quick hug. “Thank you, mum. You’re the best.”

The evening was nice and quiet, spent playing chess with Mattheo on the ground in the living room like you always did, with your mother playfully cheering on the one winning from the sofa. Mattheo and you laughed a lot while playing, and it warmed your heart to see him relaxed and happy. You knew he was usually shy in the first days he came here, and while you perfectly understood it, you couldn’t wait for him to be his warm, chill, funny self again. The Mattheo you knew and loved. After dinner, your mother went to bed and soon after, Mattheo and you decided to follow. You both went upstairs, and you then went into the bathroom to take a shower and put on your pyjamas. Mattheo had his own bathroom, and he was likely getting himself ready to go to bed. Once you were done, you went to your bedroom, and you weren’t surprised to see Mattheo casually laying on your bed. You went to close the shutters, and when you got in bed, Mattheo’s arms immediately wrapped around your body, and you put your head on his chest. Mattheo and you had taken the habit of cuddling to sleep since the first night he spent here, where a discussion before going to sleep ended up with you guys falling asleep and for some reason waking up in each other’s arms. You found that you slept way better in Mattheo’s arms, so much so that this situation continued in Hogwarts - and it was made easier by your roommate Pansy essentially spending all her nights with Blaise. At first, you just enjoyed the feeling of warmth and safety Mattheo’s embrace gave you, but as your heart started to feel more than friendship for him, cuddling, just like his perpetual presence, became bitter-sweet. You still loved cuddling with Mattheo, in fact you didn’t even know if you could even sleep without him now, but you wondered if it was a good idea to continue like this. But even if I decided it was better to stop, how do I tell him? 

“You alright?” you whispered, raising your head to look at him.

He nodded, “Yeah. Why?” 

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here. This is your home, Matty. And it will always be. But if you’re feeling something different, I want you to tell me.” 

“I’m fine, y/n, really. I’m grateful for your mum and you, you know that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over me.”

He kissed your hair, his hands started gently caressing your shoulder and the middle of your back. Soon after, you felt yourself going to sleep, and thought you heard a voice saying “sleep well, princess.” 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The next following days, Mattheo and you spent all of your time together. Every meal, every activity - playing Quidditch in the garden, reading, studying, taking a nap - was done with him. You loved it, but it made it harder to write to Mattheo’s friends to invite them to the surprise party or to prepare the said party without him knowing, but you still managed to do it while he was reading a book in the living room. Thankfully, all the boys answered your letter and said they would come, and thankfully also, your mother had time to buy what was needed and had the idea to hide it in her room, where you and her knew Mattheo would never dare to go. 

On the day of his birthday, you woke up once again in his arms, and kissed him on the cheek as he was slowly waking up.

“Happy birthday, Matty.”

“Thank you, pretty girl.”

You had managed to get Mattheo agree to go to Hogsmeade in the beginning of the afternoon to get his favourite sweets from Honeydukes so your mom could prepare everything for the party and welcome the guests. You spent some time here, and once you knew everything was likely to be ready, you and Mattheo got back home, and you had a hard time not smiling. But you also suddenly worried about how Mattheo would react. Last year, Theo had a surprise party and Mattheo was happy to help prepare it. But does that mean he wants one for himself?

You opened the door, and entered the silent house. Mattheo looked around the corridor, and put his bag full of sweets on the floor in order to take off his jacket.

“Is your mom here?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Let’s check the living room.”

Mattheo remained silent and approached said living room, and you had the biggest smile on your face when he suddenly stopped.

“Happy birthday!”

There was some cheering and applause, and Mattheo turned to you as you approached him.

“What-”

“It’s a surprise, Matty,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his confused face. “You deserved to have your friends and your brother with you today.”

He stared at you for a long minute, and you felt your heart beat faster, and he finally smiled at you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled back at him and gestured for him to go say hi to his friends, who were quick to wish him a happy birthday and greet him warmly, and his brother Tom, who was colder and more silent than the others. You looked around the room, and what your mother had done to decorate was incredible: there were numerous small fireworks up in the air alongside big golden letters saying “happy birthday Mattheo”, small decorations all around, and the long wooden table, usually bare, was also very much magically decorated. Mattheo hugged your mother to thank her while Pansy came closer to you. 

“Well done, dear. If you’ve put it together for a friend, I can’t wait to see what you will do when you’ll be dating him.”

“Don’t start,” you warmed her. “Mattheo and I have always been friends and will always be.” 

“We’ll see,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes and went closer to Mattheo. It was now time for him to blow out the candles and make a wish, and everyone was gathered around him as your mother brought his favourite cake decorated with whipped cream and full of magic candles.

“Happy birthday again, dear,” your mother smiled. “Make a wish.”

Mattheo closed his eyes for an instant and then blew out the candles. You applauded alongside the others, and everyone gave Mattheo their birthday gifts - books on Quidditch or history or wizards, Quidditch equipment, special quills, a watch - and then came your turn. Feeling your cheeks becoming red, you handed him your own gift, scared he might not like it. He unwrapped it and then saw the book.

“It’s, um, a photo album with some pictures we took along the years and, well, I wrote down some of my favourite memories with you.” 

You heard some whispers among Mattheo’s friends - his brother Tom remained silent - but your only focus was on Mattheo’s reaction. He turned some of the pages, smiled at some of the pictures and read the memories you wrote down - and the note you had also written him about how much he meant to you and how special you genuinely thought he was. After a moment of apparently being lost in thoughts, he gently put down the book on the table near the others books he got and looked at you to give you a half-smile.

“Thank you, y/n.”

He gave you a quick, strange hug, and then turned to his plate. Feeling confused, you wondered if he truly liked the gift. You went to sit between your mother and Lorenzo, and as you ate the cake, you looked sometimes as Mattheo, who was now the center of attention, and as time went by, you saw him switching from his usual, funny self to a more quiet, uneasy self, barely listening to what Theo was saying to him. You guessed he was feeling overwhelmed, and as the others finished their plates and went to sit on the sofas, you saw Mattheo mumbling an excuse before leaving the room to go to the garden. You wanted to follow him to make sure everything was fine, but you knew he probably needed some time alone. After a while, you finally went outside, and found him sitting in the grass, lost in thoughts. You approached him slowly before sitting down next to him.

“Are you okay, Matty?” 

He nodded, “Yes. Was it your idea to have this party?”

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Why?” 

“Thank you, y/n. It means a lot,” he looked at the grass before shaking his head. 

“You deserve it,” you said with a gentle voice. 

“Actually, I’m not sure,” Mattheo said in a low voice, his head now down.

You frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

Mattheo turned to you and had a small sigh.

“Honestly, y/n. You and your mum have already so much for me. Letting me live here, giving me gifts, being there for me, and now this…What did I ever give you back? Nothing.”

You opened your mouth, but it took a few seconds to answer. “Mattheo, have you not read what I wrote in the photo album?” 

He didn’t answer, still looking at the grass.

“Well?” you insisted. “What did the text say?”

“That you deeply cared about me,” he said, almost mumbling. “And that you thought of me as caring, and kind.”

“I meant it, alright?” you said in a more serious voice, wanting him to understand. “You’re the most exceptional person I know. You’re kind, gentle, funny, and caring. You’re a great friend to the boys, and you’re doing your best to have a good relationship with Tom, even when it’s not easy. You’re always there for me, you're always ready to spend time with me no matter the activity, and I know I always count on you whenever I need help or need comfort. You always know what to say, and you always listen to me when I have something to say. You’re also smart, and a damn good Quidditch player. I know you’re scared of becoming like your father, but I know you won’t. Because you two couldn’t be more different. And even if you started to be like him, we both know I’d smack some sense into you.” He had a hint of a smile and you went on, “Yes, sometimes you’re annoying and I think you love to fight too much, but nobody’s perfect, and I wouldn't want you to change for anything in the world. You’re the best person I know, Mattheo, and that’s why I’m in love with you.”

He whipped his head towards you, and that’s when you realised what you just said. 

Oh, no. Oh, no. Merlin, no.

“I…Just…Forget what I said.”

You quickly rose up and almost ran back to the house, but you suddenly felt a warm hand on your wrist. 

“Wait!” Mattheo said, “What the hell, you can’t leave like that after saying that to me.”

“Yes I can,” you retorted, panicking, “and that’s what I’m doing, just…forget it happened, alright?”

Mattheo let go of your wrist to run a hand through his dark curls. 

“But, y/n, I can’t forget,” he said, frowning, as if it was obvious, “and I don’t want to. Did you really mean it?”

“Mattheo, I…”

“y/n, please,” he cut off more severely, both his voice and eyes now pleading. “Please, answer me.”

Doing your best to not look at him, you hesitated before nodding, feeling the need to disappear. He looked at you in a strange way, and you wondered what he was going to say.

“Look, Mattheo,” you started, “I know our f…”

“I love you too.”

It was now you turn to look at him with confusion. “What?”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “You’re…all I want, and all I need. You said this house is my home, but the truth is, you’re my home.” 

All of a sudden, he stepped closer to you and brought his hand to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with all the gentleness in the world. You wondered what you should do next -  put your hand on his? Put your own hand on his cheek? - but he made the decision for you, suddenly lowering his head towards yours.

“Fuck, y/n…”

And after that whisper, he pressed his lips on yours. It took you a few seconds to kiss him back, but when you did, he immediately grabbed your waist to pull you closer before putting a hand on the back of your neck. You let out a moan, and he deepened the kiss. You had a hard time believing what you had been dreaming for years now was actually happening but at the same time, Mattheo’s lips on yours and his hands on your body was all you could feel, all you could think about and all that mattered. When he finally pulled away, you were both out of breath. 

“Does you saying that you love me and this kiss count as two more birthday gifts?” he suddenly asked. 

“If you want,” you laughed. 

“Then, it really is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again before taking you into his arms, holding you as if he died if he let go. You held him as well, feeling that, wherever you were, Mattheo was also your home. 

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[jarofstyles]

Can you do some angsty jealousrry? Happy ending please!!

Yes 🙂‍↕️ there’s a spooky season theme to it hehe

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Warnings- angst, jealousy, a bit of manhandling, a lil toxic behavior, etc

——

Harry had been searching for her all night. The Halloween themed night at the pub was in full swing, the music throbbing, bodies grinding on the dance floor. He had lost track of her hours ago when she had left his place, her disappearance leaving him with a hollow feeling in his chest. But he wasn't about to give up that easily. He knew she was going to be here tonight, with or without him. With a determined scowl, he began to weave his way through the crowded room, his eyes scanning every face, every shadowy corner- which was easier said than done considering they were pumping that nasty fake fog that burned his nose and flashing the stupid strobe lights every so often.

Thankfully as he turned a corner, he spotted her. She was standing by the bar, sipping on a drink, her back to him. His shoulders sagged in relief as he recognized the curve of her neck, the way her styled hair fell in loose waves down her back. She was dressed as a Victorian ghost, all white and eerie, fitting for the spooky themed night.

What he didn’t like, though, was the asshat standing next to her wearing a stupid excuse of a pirate costume. No, that simply would not do. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him and he moved towards her without hesitation.

As he approached, he heard the guy lean in and say something to her. Y/N laughed, her head thrown back, exposing the long line of her throat. Harry's steps faltered for a moment, jealousy coursing through him like poison. Who the hell was this guy? And why the fuck was she laughing with him? He quickened his pace, his eyes narrowed. "Excuse me."

Harry tapped the guy on the shoulder, his voice laced with a dark undertone. The guy turned around, his eyes widening in recognition. "Harry... Styles?" he stammered, obviously starstruck, but he didn’t give a fuck. Harry ignored him, his focus solely on Y/N. "We need to talk." he demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Grabbing her arm, he began pulling her away from the bar. This wasn’t the place for the discussion.

"Harry, stop!" Y/N tried to pull her arm free, but Harry's grip was firm. Once they were outside, he spun her around to face him, his eyes blazing.

"Who the fuck was that guy?" he demanded, his voice low. There was an attempt to keep his composure there, but there wasn’t much of a follow through. He hated that someone else had been so close to her, especially after an argument. Rational thoughts were few and far between in this scenario.

Y/N crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "None of your business."

"None of my business?" Harry echoed, taking a step closer. "You're my girlfriend, Y/N. Everything about you is my business." They may have been fighting, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to run around and talk to other guys. All of this over the fact that he didn’t want to dress up over this stupid holiday? "You've been avoiding me, and you haven’t answered my fuckin’ messages. I don't like that. It stresses me out and you know it."

Y/N bit her lip, her face dropping to the ground as she tried to avoid his gaze. "I needed some space. Harry." she whispered. It was hard to know she was upset but right now he felt more overwhelmed than anything else.

"Space? Or a chance to flirt with some other guy?" Harry's face twisted in irritation. He grabbed her chin, making her look at him. "You’re the one not answering my calls. It’s driven me absolutely mad. I’ve been trying to fuckin’ talk to you. And I find you here anyways, laughing with some loser. You can’t just ignore me every time we fight.”

Her eyes were bubbling up with tears that he hated, her voice wobbly in the way that made his anger falter. Regardless of how upset he was, he didn’t like seeing her sad. "You hurt me, Harry. And then you expect me to just fall into your arms when you realize you messed up? To talk to you just because you feel like you want to?"

Harry's face fell, her words stinging. He sighed, releasing her chin and dragging his hand down his face. "I know, okay? I know. I was stupid. I was careless about your feelings. I was selfish.” His shoulders dropped as he looked at her, unsure how to properly convey it. The reason he’d been reaching out was to apologize even though he didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but evidently it was. “I’m sorry, my Angel. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I didn’t know how much you cared... about all of this." His hand waved around gesturing at her outfit. “I’ve just never found it to be a big deal. I didn’t know why you cared so much if I did anything with a costume. I still don’t.” That was his fault, he could admit. He hadn’t heard her out.

Y/N's face softened slightly, her arms uncrossing. "It's not just about the costume, Harry. It's about you showing that you care. That you're willing to do something silly or out of character for me. And you weren't. You brushed me off. And it hurt." Her voice broke on the last word, tears finally spilling over and making a trail down her cheek. It was his fault. Harry's heart ached. He hated seeing her cry.

“Fuck.” He sighed, pulling her into his arms and pressing her face into his chest. He didn’t care if the makeup stained his shirt. All he wanted was to make her feel better. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I hurt you. M’sorry I was so stubborn.” He was sorry about all of it. He was sorry for not listening to her and for not understanding why it was so important to her. “I didn’t know how much it meant to you."

He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper as he ran a hand over her back, feeling the tears dampen his shirt. "I love you. I love you so much. I know I didn't show it in that moment, but I do. And I promise, m’gonna do better. I'll listen. I'll compromise. I'll dress up t’the next one. Promise. I'll- I'll even wear a onesie, or let y’put makeup on me or some shit if it's that important to you." He would do anything to make this right. To make her smile again. He felt a little silly about it now. Considering he had always tried to be a good partner, to let this be a fight was something he considered to be very stupid now.

Y/N sniffled, her arms wrapping around his waist. "It's not about you dressing up or not, Harry. It's about you showing that you care. That you're willing to make an effort. And you are now. You're promising to listen and compromise. That's what matters." She tilted her head back, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "I love you too. So much."

Harry let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Okay. Okay, we'll figure it out, m’love. Together."

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[sugary-daydreams3]

Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  

“That’s not the same.”  

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   

“Well?” You ask impatiently.  

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  

“Yet?”  

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  

6 weeks later 

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  

“I appreciate it.”  

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   

“You know what I mean.”  

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  

“Babydoll.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Turn around for me.”  

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  

“Yeah, you should.”  

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  

“Oh really?”  

“Yep.”  

“How about you taste this then.”  

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  

“Better than fine dining?”  

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  

“It’s silly?”  

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  

“You know what I mean.”  

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  

“Thank you for sticking with me.”  

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  

[cherryspicest]

I'm here for you

Part 1 Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Might not be the happiest Christmas, but surely she’ll make your holiday count.

Only if you could put in the emptiness of your heart inside the white blanket and leave it under throughout the day, you could’ve done it. Yet it was impossible, only to see yourself sitting on the white comfy bed with a pillow atop your legs, blanket tucked in between and your tummy as you rest your arms over the pillow. The pouring snowflakes outside the window was not enough to count Christmas’ for you—unless she replies back with a text.

You didn’t receive any message from Sullyoon again after she greets you Merry Christmas. Though it is a holiday season, a time where she would spend more of her day with her relatives, her active status that shows online throughout the day clears out the good thoughts running up in your mind.

A few hours ago, you called her friend Lily on the phone to ask about Sullyoon, and told you she is with them while you hear clanking bottles in the background. Even with the urge of asking her to give the phone to her, you rather shrugged it off—letting her enjoy the time with her friends even if she has left you like this. 

Enjoy your Christmas love! Call me if anything happens—You type into your phone, unmotivated

You feel pity for yourself, and yet still rather play stupid with all these scenarios that she would sometimes leave you. Throughout your life, losing your girlfriend is what you swore not to happen. One risky action driven by emotions is a sure path for the end of such promise.

You immediately throw the pillow and the blanket when you hear three soft knocks on the entrance door. Expecting it to be your girlfriend, but rather it was Wonyoung—your best friend—standing in front of you in a tight red dress, enough to shape out the perfect curvature of her body. She carries a paper handbag in the other hand with a small christmas tag stapled in it.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets with a sweet smile. 

Her usual smile - cute voice tone combo she always does never gets tiring. The fact that she only shows that side to you gives you the reason to value it. 

You let her in shortly. Her heels make soft thuds in every of her step while she makes her way towards the kitchen table to place her carriage. When she notices you never had anything to prepare, nor even ingredients and food around the kitchen, she flips around to look at you with widened eyes. 

“No food? You haven’t prepared anything for yourself?” She asks, and you push your lips. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

The silence from you was enough for her to take as she scoffs in disbelief. “That bitch didn’t even visit you here, Y/n?”

“Hey, you can’t call her that. She’s still my girlfriend though.”

“So what?” She rolls her eyes and groans. “Where is she?”

“I’m just letting her enjoy Christmas with her friends right now. If she’s happy there then, can I even do anything? I just want her to be happy.”

“No Y/n, you’re stupid. You’re here fucked up around your small apartment, looking helpless, and expecting her to show up in your door when she entirely chose to stay with her friends..”

“Wonyoung, she’s my girlfriend.”

“As if I care?” She raises an eyebrow. Her voice tone went deep and natural. “Plus I know things better, she’s your girlfriend, I’m your girl-best-friend. No wonder she doesn’t have the word best compared to me—because she’s .”

“Alright, no need to say it again.” You interrupt her, and she smirks.

The amount of slurs she said to your girlfriend was enough to make any guy pissed, though you’re not one of them as you take her words completely normal. That abrasive attitude would always show up whenever Sullyoon does something that she wouldn’t like. Insults, jokes, slurs everywhere like a typical male gaming lobby. 

“Chicken bucket? Fries? Steak? What do you want?” She continues scrolling on her phone, not bothering to look at you. “Caviar? Milk Tea? It’s all in me, don’t care if it's priced like Dior or Versace.”

“It’s your money.

“That’s why I’m asking you? I want my money to be wasted on something that would make you happy at least.”

You sigh. “You’re so cheesy, can you stop it for once.”

“I’m not being cheesy.” She grins. That pissed off look seems to disappear right away. “Just pointing out the reason why I’m asking you that.”

No buts, no what ifs, chicken bucket is what you chose, and Wonyoung came to agree with your decision. Tapping the add to cart, buy, then that’s it, the food will adjust for your lazy asses because you can’t head to the chicken store 2 streets away from your place.

The delivery arrives earlier than expected. There was no reason for Wonyoung to flex the thick amount of folded money inside her wallet before she opened the door—-and yet she still did. That action was unnecessary, but it's typical of her, she’d do such things to prove how lucky you are to be her best friend. 

“Are you attending some red carpet event with that dress?” 

She chuckles while pulling the bucket out from the paperbag. “You like it?”

“Probably yeah, it’s just funny you have to wear some luxurious shit just to visit me here.” You grab a drumstick from the bucket and take a bite. “I look poor around you.”

“I’d still appreciate it though.” She grabs a drumstick for herself too. “By the way, did she even greet you?”

“She did, atleast.”

“You even know the place is? Whom she is with?”

You sigh and grin. “What’s with the interrogation, Wonyoung? You sound like my mom whenever I arrive home.”

She pushes your shoulder, enough to move you an inch away. “Hey, I’m asking you? I don’t need your stupid side comments.”

“Come on, she’s with her friends, that’s it, I know she’d be safe anyways. The place?”

“Green flag Y/n?” 

You cross your arm and smile, proud of being called as one.

“No, you’re stupid. If I could only hit you with my heels right now, I would have right now.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh? You’re really challenging me to do so? You know I don’t say shit that I wouldn’t do.”

You keep your attention on the TV in the living room . “Go ahead.”

Wonyoung’s words were never meant to only scare you away. You ready yourself when she puts down her drumstick over the table, and reaches for her heel. She raises her shoes at you, and you manage to grab her wrist at time. You feel her pushing you more and more, not minding what and where the direction you’re both into.

“You’re so weak, Wony.” You tease, and she lets out a hiss. Her narrowed eyes show how much she wants to win against you. 

“I hate you so much.” 

She groans, and seems to boost up her inner strength. You feel her force get heavier. In a moment, you start to move backwards, her expression is enough for you to see her desire to contest against you. It all stops when your back meets the refrigerator.

Your world seems to pause, everything feels slow. While your grasps are at both Wonyoung’s raised wrists, you didn’t realize how close you were both. Both of your eyes gazing into each other like two interlinked bridges that never get separated. Your breaths are the only ones you can hear between, yet it never stopped you from admiring your best friend’s visual.

You let go of her wrists, it was a weird feeling to remain that composure. The sense of awkwardness struck out of nowhere yet it is a better thing to shrug it off. 

When you make your way back to the table, she follows shortly in a slow pace like a little girl who broke a glass. She grabs her paper bag closer to her, revealing a wine bottle in her hand just as she pulls it out. It was the typical holiday type wine that rich people give their close ones, obviously the same level of status as them where you can’t relate. 

“Someone wasted an amount of stash again.” You joke.

“It’s just wine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you never went to the same school as me. You think you forgot how your mom even paid for my private taxi when it was too late at night already.”

“It’s my mom, not me.” You notice her wandering around the kitchen as if she’s finding something. “And, the wine glasses are in the 4th cabinet up there.”

Clumsy Wonyoung as usual, always the struggle of finding something. She’d be losing her pens every single time back in freshman years where she’ll make up an excuse of her pen teleporting in an unknown dimension.

She hands you the glass, then pours the wine carefully in it. She does one for herself then motions to clank with you in which you accepted.

“A great holiday ahead.” She smiles, then sips into her wine glass. 

She’s too luxurious for you. The way you’d drink the wine glass like a milk in a cup, hoping it doesn’t look embarrassing, while she drinks it too formally as if you’re a CEO of some known brand.

Lowkey, you’re expecting some message from your girlfriend on your phone—-yet there was none. A single vibration from your pocket is enough to keep you alive—and there was none even. At least, Wonyoung is here to keep you stable and promising, a true friend who’d never leave you.

“Fuck, the hell even happened to her,” you mutter, pertaining to your girlfriend.

“Sorry?” Wonyoung pauses. 

She notices the phone in your hand which gave the reason for her smile to disappear slowly. She knows it, always your stupidity, but rather not show it to you and decided to continue sipping in her wine glass. 

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Wonyoung as she unexpectedly snatches your phone, then hides it behind her. “No phones tonight, we enjoy this day together like how we used to do when we were still at the same school.”

“Come on, give it back.” You walk closer, effortfully trying to grab your phone back.

“What if I don’t?” 

She places the phone on her other hand, giving you a hard time reaching it unless you wrap your hand around hers.

“Friendship over then.” 

“Is that so?” She stretches her arm down. 

That phone is what all you wanted, and the urge of snatching it back from her is heating you up. No matter how awkward things may be, you come closer and grab her wrist behind, ignoring the close proximity between you and her as if you are cuddling like couples. Her grip on your phone was surprisingly strong that it might take you a little why before you can forcefully free it. 

She looks at you in mischief, then a smirk forms into the corner of her lips. 

“Let’s break our friendship then,” she says softly, and you feel the warmth of her breath on your neck, “chingu geu isang-eul wonhanikkayo”.

“So what did you just say to me?”

“Want me to translate it for you?” 

A quick second glance on your lips, then she leans forward to press her lips into yours. There was no time to react, nor escape in this scenario. You feel your heart skip a beat when you feel her lips on yours, slowly accepting the fact she’s kissing you right now.

The kiss was getting deeper. She slowly wraps her arms around your neck while she pulls you even closer. You feel her tongue asking for entrance, and there was no reason for not to welcome it. She lets out a soft moan when you wrap your hands around her hips. Now it’s a make out session—with your alluring, old best friend that you’ve known more than any you’ve met.

You wanted it so badly. These hormones heat you up as if you wanted to get undressed and finish right away. Yet there was a hold back, a sense of stop like there were chains around your wrists, no matter how much you wanted to continue, it does not let you.

Placing your fingers on her chin was enough for her to stop and pull away. 

“Wonyoung, I can’t. I’m sorry, this is ridiculous.” You shake your head while you avoid her eyes, pulling away as you distance yourself. “I can’t cheat on my girlfriend, you know this is wrong right?” 

“I know it’s wrong,” she contests. “But that’s the only way for you to understand my feelings. 

“Wony–”

“Yes, you’re right. I fucking love you, and I don’t understand why do you have to be numb throughout the years we’ve been together.” She keeps her eyes locked at you. “Because every time I confess, you always think I’m fooling with you, or either way I’m drunk, crazy, or stressed. And here my stupid ass is going to pretend it is because I don’t want to embarrass myself!”

The atmosphere between you two seemed to set upside down when you once heard that deep natural voice from her—it was a cue for her seriousness. Your feelings are mixed like scattered tin cans, nothing specific, hard to distinguish. You just wanted to leave and smell the fresh air outside to calm yourself down, yet you didn’t want to leave Wonyoung like this either.

“I don’t understand.” There’s nothing you could do but leave your mouth open. “That must be the wine.”

She forces a smile, scoffing as she begins to nod lightly while her eyes appear teary. “Yeah, must be the wine, this fucking wine. It’s always me or any shit you would see just to make me look crazy.”

“Come on, do we have to come at this point? Wonyoung you know it’s hard for me to understand this, I have a girlfriend, and . . . “

She picks up her small sling bag from the bar chair, and looks at you, fixing her hair. “I know, you have Sullyoon. It’s my fault as well, I shouldn’t have been this fragile likewise.” She sniffs and moves a few strands in her hair. “I think it’s better for me to go, Merry Christmas.”

“Wonyoung.”

Calling her name was not enough to make her stop from walking out of your apartment. The silence was loud, and you flowed with it.

You find yourself standing emptily  like a mannequin as you watch the door close itself. Everything that happened flows quickly, one an action that can’t be undone, and it’s all gone. That kiss is enough to change how you see your best friend anymore.

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Glory Hallelujah

Written for day 25 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Christmas & Glory Hole

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody Lives; Rockstar Eddie; Sex Clubs; Glory Holes; Blowjobs; Reunions

Notes: I did a poll to determine which prompt from the bingo card I should combine with the Christmas prompt of the holiday drabbles. Merry Dick-mas, you filthy heathens, I love all of you! ❤️

Eddie isn’t sure what the correct word for someone like him is. He’s been pondering it over four beers now, watching the bored-looking girl at the center of the room spin around her pole, but without any success. 

Pathetic springs to mind, but that isn't strong enough. There must be a stronger word than pathetic for someone spending Christmas at a goddamn sex club. But he was lonely, and he had nowhere to go, so it seemed like a good idea. 

It wasn’t. The place is glaringly empty, even Indy’s kink scene having better places to be on this most magical of nights.

He should’ve gone to Kentucky with Wayne. 

Except this is the old guy’s first time meeting his girlfriend’s family, and Eddie can just imagine how this would’ve played out if he’d tagged along.

Hi, I’m Eddie, Wayne’s nephew. Yeah, I might look familiar. Yeah, I was on the cover of Rolling Stone last month. Thanks, I’m happy your grandkids like my music. Yeah, no, I didn’t commit those satanic murders, that was- Listen, can we talk about my uncle? 

So, instead, here he is. 

Fuck, he hasn’t felt this miserable and mad at himself since that one time he told Steve Harrington to get back with his girl while inconspicuously ogling the guy’s sweaty chest hair under his own battle vest. 

Eddie sighs, getting up from his chair. He might as well head home while he still has some self-respect left.

He's almost at the exit when something catches his eye. There's a row of stalls in the wall, each with its own lockable door. 

The light over one is on. 

There's no fucking way, he thinks, even as his feet carry him right over and into the adjacent cabin. Someone probably forgot to kill the light. There's no fucking way anyone is in there. That would be at least as pathetic as a fucking rock star going to a fucking sex club on fucking Christmas day because he's a depressed moron. 

Still, he goes in, locks the door and pulls down his pants. The hole in the wall stares back at him like it's trying to mock him. Eddie tells himself to stop being silly. 

Worst case scenario is he stands here with his limp dick poking through a hole in the wall like an idiot. Nobody will know, because nobody’s there. Best case scenario is he gets to blow off some steam. 

Nothing happens. 

Eddie sighs and is just about to pull out when suddenly, there's movement. His heart leaps into his throat. He hears it all through the thin wall. A sharp intake of breath, like whoever is on the other side is just as surprised as him. They probably are. They've probably been in there a while. Then, the thud of knees hitting the floor. Eddie has just enough time to think that the mystery person must be really eager for this before he feels soft, warm lips wrapping around his tip. 

Whoever the person in the other stall is, they sure know what they’re doing. They start out gently, slowly sliding Eddie’s swelling cock in and out of that deliciously warm mouth, tongue teasing the length of him. Once he's fully hard, the tongue is joined by a hand, alternating soft licks with firm strokes, and Eddie feels something urgent and hot build at the base of his spine. He moans, fingers grasping the top of the stall for leverage as his hips buck, trying to get closer to that mouth even with the wall between them. 

They keep this up for several minutes. Eddie tries to keep his voice down, but it seems like each of his groans and whimpers spurs the other person on. And then, they scrape their teeth over his tip, and a startled curse escapes his lips, and they swallow him all the way down, as far as the wall allows. 

Eddie comes with a hoarse shout, spilling hot and wet into that mouth. The other person doesn’t pull away. Eddie feels their throat constricting around him as they swallow.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie groans, forehead sagging against the wall. His arms feel like jelly from supporting his weight. “Shit. Jesus. Shitshitshit.” 

And that is when the other person pulls off. 

“Eddie, if it’s you, please come out?” 

“Wait a sec,” says a voice. A voice garbled and wrecked from sucking his cock and swallowing his come. A voice that Eddie hasn’t heard in ten years.

Eddie’s heart stops. On the other side of the wall, a door opens.

“Eddie?” Right outside his own door. “Shit, is that really you?”

This isn’t real. It’s some bizarre, orgasm-induced pipe dream brought about by too much beer and seasonal depression. There’s no way the person outside is who Eddie thinks he is. 

He does. At least he remembers to pull up his pants first.

The door swings open, and there he is. Steve Harrington, ten years older but no less gorgeous, clad in skintight denim and a silky purple shirt, lips turned up into a delighted smile. They’re still swollen and shiny. 

“I knew it!” he cheers, pulling Eddie into a hug. “Nobody else babbles curses like that.”

Eddie grunts. Steve pulls back, holding him at arm’s length. 

“Looking good,” he smiles. “Even better than on that Rolling Stone cover. How have you been, man? Dustin said you talk sometimes, but you never-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Eddie blurts. His knees are wobbly and his head is spinning. “You aren’t- … You just sucked my- … You’re straight!” 

Steve laughs, and it’s every bit as breathtaking as Eddie remembers. 

“Yeah, no, I figured that out a while ago. Which you would know, if you’d just kept in touch.” He winks right into Eddie’s gobsmacked face, then takes him by the shoulder and steers him towards the bar. “How about you buy me a drink? We can celebrate this little Christmas miracle, and I’ll bring you up to speed.” 

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 3 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (2)

ITACH X ALPHA!READER

Summary: Having immensely enjoyed your first day with Itachi in his pocket dimension, you were excited for the hunt for potions ingredients to begin. You didn't expect to come across a green monstrosity in the woods, nor a flock of unusually persistent old people, but all the shenanigans were worth it because you finally, finally managed to get your mouth on those beautiful nipples! GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple!Naruto Characters

Word count: 11.7k

Warnings: N-sfw content. Vague references to a murder. At one point, MC believes that there is some non-con going on, but is mistaken. All alphas have penises, fyi.

A/N: Hmm, I think it's still too early for Happy Holidays wishes, although December is almost upon us. To those who didn't see the announcement, I'm cutting the third book from this series to elongate the first two. So, this is now the second of three Itachi parts. He is really holding out for the majority of the porn being in part 3, but Itachi is a classy guy like that. The mysterious book 2 love interest doesn't feel the same way lol. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always, this is for @omeganronpa 💞💞

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

The next morning had seen the search for the ingredients for the Amnesia Reversal Potion begin. You had felt a little bit bad that Itachi was putting in so much effort to make a functionally useless potion, but you figured the story had to go on someway, and you couldn’t deny that it had been immensely fun to do a magical scavenger hunt.

Itachi had dedicated a wooden tray to keep all the ingredients together, which now sat in the corner of the living room. It was almost full after the two weeks of buying, finding, and gathering you’d gone through, covered with pots and bottles and bags stacked on top of each other.

Itachi had said that the potion was extraordinarily simple to make but had an eye-wateringly long ingredient list. You could tell that he was a little baffled by the whole thing, but it all made sense to you; him having to hide away in his study for a month to brew something delicate was decidedly not sexy, but your joint excursions had proven themselves rip for horny scenarios.

During the last two weeks, your relationship with Itachi had also progressed significantly. You hadn’t gone all the way yet, although the steadily increasing tension was certain to burst soon, and you hadn’t added a formal relationship label to anything, but the way that stolen kisses and sleeping in bed together had become the norm said a lot.  Neither of you acknowledged that Itachi now seemed incapable of sleeping unless he was directly on top of you either. When you had taken a midnight walk on one of the nights, unable to sleep, to stare out of the kitchen window, Itachi had found you in only three minutes and sat with you until he could entice you back into bed with him. With his loose, messy hair and revealing pyjamas that seemed determined to slip off his shoulders, it hadn’t taken very long.

What? You were a simple alpha, and a warm, sleepy omega’s charms were simply too strong to resist.

Itachi was so much more domestic than you could have imagined, now that you’d broken down his walls. He was softer, less stoic, desperate for praise and companionship. He still refused to let you cook, cooking for you every night, constantly trying to perfect new recipes despite the limited number of supplies available to him in the dead of Winter. Some dinners were just as good as the stew from day one, and some weren’t. Itachi was experimenting, you understood that. He wasn’t as experienced a cook as you had originally believed, but you still heavily praised every attempt just to watch him purr.

You shook yourself out of the memories of Itachi’s cooking and instead crouched down in front of the ingredient tray, mentally checking each ingredient against the recipe pinned to the wall above it. Most of the ingredients on the left side you had grabbed on the second and third days, as they’d come directly from Itachi’s own stores.

You smiled, tracing the tops of the bottles and remembering that he had literally fallen into your lap or arms no less than three times while retrieving them.

“I don’t know why I stored the apple seeds so far towards the back of the top shelf,” Itachi said, huffing as he tried to stretch his arm as far as it would go. You only sighed, amused, and knowing full well that the porn logic had made it so. You were holding the base of Itachi’s ladder steady, but you knew that what was about to happen wouldn’t be stopped no matter what precautions you took.

“I’ve almost got it… Almost… Ah ha! Eep!”

Itachi’s foot slipped out from under him, toppling him off the top of the ladder and into your already waiting arms. You were glad to see that the jar filled with apple seeds was clutched tightly in his hand.

“Hey beautiful,” you cooed, adjusting the princess carry a little. “I think I’m going to have to get rid of this ladder, because I can’t have you falling for anyone else.”

Itachi scoffed, cheeks blooming pink. You grinned down at him, and his fake annoyance melted into pure affection. You probably looked like a pair of lovesick fools.

‘Ah, you did an excellent job of delivering that line, human, all that practice in the bathroom mirror certainly helped!’

‘James, you’re ruining the moment.’

‘My sincerest apologies human. Perhaps to salvage the moment, you could use another falling themed pick-up line in order to encourage your omega towards behaviours associated with playful sexual aggression?’

‘James—’

‘Xethrofeth recommended this one, “I enjoy safe sex, shall I tie you to the bed so that you don’t fall off?”’

‘James!’

You smiled, remembering the moment. The best moment though, was when one of the ingredients required Itachi to crawl into the tiny loft space in the ceiling. He had emerged covered in dust and sneezing like a kitten, and then, after his shower, he had approached you with a towel and brush to help him dry his hair.

You dragged the boar bristle brush slowly through Itachi’s hair as he sat on the bed in between your legs. His silky black hair was thicker than it looked, and watching the brush glide through it was enchanting.

Itachi shivered as the bristles tickled his back. His head twitched like he was trying to resist the impulse to bare his neck to you.

Bathed in candlelight, warm while a storm raged on outside, just existing in a comfortable silence… you felt content.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words escaped you without your permission, but as Itachi turned to face you, his newly dried hair fanning out around him, you didn’t think he minded.

“So are you,” he muttered, leaning forward to connect your lips with his.

That kiss had become so heated that it had taken everything in you to resist going all the way. Itachi seemed a little put out that you stopped things from progressing, but you wanted to go slowly. The slow build up of tension was delicious.  An orgasm was always more rewarding if you’d been denied first, and you were determined to apply that logic to the entire relationship. And so, you had gone to bed as normal.

Well, it had been mostly normal. Itachi had spent most of the night grinding on your hip in his sleep. You had almost given in and woken him up, but you had managed to resist.

You turned your attention to the middle of the tray now, counting each little bag or newer bottle that had been bought from the market in the nearest town. Now, that excursion had been fun. It had been a pretty long walk, but with warming charms on your clothes and Itachi’s delightful company, the walk had flown by.

The town had been incredible and just remembering it made you want to go back as soon as possible. It had felt like walking around the best historical reenactment in existence, except real, and also smelling better than you imagined the actual past would. It made sense though; if food intolerances were too inconvenient for erotica, piss and body odour certainly were.

Although, you admitted, that would probably depend on the kind of erotica.

Regardless, the town setting introduced just as much porn (and cliché romcom) logic as Itachi’s cottage. You weren’t exaggerating when you said that every single old person had something to say about you and Itachi being the cutest couple. Itachi had insisted on walking with your arms linked ‘in case you got lost’, so you couldn’t really have faulted the old people for assuming you were a couple. What you had been taken aback by though was just how bold they had been. You had met horny older people before, but that had been on another level.

“Oh, look at you two,” the old lady running the exotic goods stand said. “I can tell that pups will be along for you two soon enough. I have an eye for these sorts of things, you see.”

You and Itachi stuttered, verbally falling over each other as you tried to deny any such thing. This didn’t deter the old lady for one moment.

“Although, here’s a tip from me: some people insist on the missionary position for conception, but doggy has a far better success rate in my experience. Ernest’s shop on Main Street sells plugs if you’ll be needing one to—”

“Um, can we just have 50 grams of crushed snake fangs please!”

…

“Oh, Itachi dear, you’ve brought an alpha with you!” said the old man running the bakery cheerfully. “Although” -he squinted at you both- “no mating mark yet.”

While you picked out some bread, he pulled Itachi aside to whisper in such a way that meant you could hear everything. You couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not.

“Some advice from back in the day,” the old man ‘whispered’. “This pressure point here on your palm will supress your gag reflex.”

Ironically, you almost choked as soon as you registered those words.

…

“Oh, an alpha! I’m so glad, Itachi, I was scared you were all alone out there,” the old person at the grocers said, quickly untying their apron to give Itachi a hug. They then turned their gaze to you. “You treat him right, or I’ll have something to say about it, you hear?”

You had a feeling that no amount of explaining that you weren’t technically together would help, so you just nodded, “Of course.”

The person smiled, mollified by your words, “You know what they say about omegas, dearie, make their legs shake, not their hearts break. Words to live by, in my opinion. And if you can, invest in one of those fancy magic vibrators. They’re a little pricy, but more than worth it in my book, especially if you have a talented witch like Itachi on hand who can charge them for free. Why, I said to my wife just last night, I said—”

“We should probably get going,” you said, dumping the vegetables you needed on the counter. “It’s a long walk back, y’know?”

Itachi had been horrifically embarrassed all day, but paradoxically he also seemed to bask in the positive attention. In fact, he had been wearing a pleased little smile under his rosy cheeks for most of the day as acquaintances congratulated him on entering a relationship.

What had pleased Itachi less though, was the very flirty omega who worked in the tavern, where you had stopped for a bite of lunch.

“Let me know if you need help with anything,” the waiter said, letting his hand linger on yours as he took your menu. “Anything at all…”

Itachi immediately bristled at the obvious flirtation. The fact that Itachi was obviously bothered was satisfying. You knew full well that if you stayed in this universe, you wouldn’t be straying from Itachi, but it was still ego boosting to have such a pretty omega ready to defend his claim on you, needed or not.

“That’s alright,” Itachi said, voice and face tight. “We’d rather be left alone to enjoy our date.”

Oh, so that was how he was going to play it. You didn’t correct him on it being a date, more than willing to let the situation boil a little for your own ego and amusement. You wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t intervene.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waiter said with an obvious fake surprise. “Let me bring you some waters then.”

Itachi settled a little once he was gone, but he made a point of conjoining your hands on top of the table so that everyone could see. You gave him a squeeze but decided to save the teasing about your ‘date’ until you had returned home.

When the man returned, two glasses in hand, his beige shirt had been thoroughly drenched in water and was now completely see through. His nipples, which you could now tell were both pierced, were clearly visible.

He laughed as he approached the table, “Sorry, there was a bit of an accident in the kitchen. Here are your waters.” He put both the glasses down and then carefully and deliberately placed down a little scrap of paper down in front of you. A quick glance confirmed that it was an address, likely his.

Itachi stood, growling. He grabbed the piece of paper and tore it in half and threw the pieces to the ground. The waiter only watched, amused.

‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ you were chanting in your head thoroughly amused.

James did not speak and yet her presence in your mind felt judgemental.

Regardless of her feelings, your plan to watch things play out changed anyway when Itachi’s eyes bled to red and his intentions seemed to switch from instigating a cat fight, to committing a murder.

“Hey, Itachi,” you said, trying to sound light and unconcerned even as you were silently ‘what the fuck’ing in your head. “Why don’t we take our food to go and have a nice picnic on the bench outside? You look so beautiful with snow in your hair, and with these amazing cloaks that you designed for us, we should be nice and warm.”

Even you could tell that you were laying it on a bit thick, but it seemed to work, as Itachi dropped the outward aggression for something more akin to proud posturing. He sent a satisfied smirk at the other omega, who only rolled his eyes.

“I’ll bring you your food to go then… Insecure omegas always demand such things.”

Itachi bared his teeth, eyes bleeding red again. You decided to step in.

“We didn’t ask for your opinion,” you said, putting a hand on Itachi’s shoulder to hold him back. “Please just bring us the food we paid for.”

Knowing a losing battle when he saw one, the waiter huffed and returned to the kitchen.

‘Interesting,’ James said in your head, thankfully without the earlier judgement.

‘What’s interesting?’

‘This situation didn’t escalate like this in the other three trials for Itachi that I’ve witnessed.’

‘What, really? How come?’

‘I am not sure. Perhaps Itachi just finds himself more attached to you than the others. None of those three picked him, of course, so perhaps they were also less attached to him than you appear to be.’

That had made you happier than you wanted to admit, and you had ended up returning to the cottage with a skip in your step and Itachi’s arm linked around yours.

To summarise the last two weeks though, things had been very romantic, and filled with so much genuine connection and sexual tension, that you felt like you were about to burst. You had seen so much of this pretty omega: his passion for magic, his love for his brother, his beautiful nipples, you mean, his beautiful home.

You were enjoying the slow burn and teasing so much that you almost wanted to drag it out further. You probably would if you weren’t so worried that the demo would suddenly end before you’d had a chance to go all the way with Itachi. James still wasn’t giving you a straight answer about how much longer you had in this world.

‘Enough time,’ she would say.

‘Time flows differently in these worlds,’ she would explain.

‘Are you really so eager to leave?’. That last one stopped you from asking altogether lest she start thinking you wanted to be pulled out early.

The point was though that today was the day that you had decided to properly confess and try and seduce Itachi. Your skin tingled with anticipation and saliva started to pool in your mouth as your thoughts ran wild. Yes, you had both waited long enough and you were quite literally hornier than you’d ever been.

But today was also the day that you were going scavenging in the woods for the final three ingredients. You had to do that first, but as soon as you returned, you would use your alpha charms on Itachi. Nothing would get in your way.

Behind you, Itachi stepped into the living room from the kitchen, a little basket of supplies packed and ready for your journey.

“Moss found on a blackwood tree, five leaves from a thizzberry bush, and two seeds from an Amplexus plant?” you read off the remaining ingredients that weren’t yet on the tray. “Are those going to be difficult to get?”

Itachi hummed, slipping on his cloak and holding out yours, “The last one might be a little complicated, but there’s nothing dangerous, I promise.”

You stood, gratefully taking the warmed cloak and wrapping it around you. Ready to go, you took one more glance at the ingredient list before joining Itachi by the front door. He was frowning down at the basket of supplies, lips pursed.

“Are you okay?” you asked, poking him on the nose to pull him out of wherever he had gone.

Itachi blinked, before sending you a smile, “Yes, sorry, I feel like I’ve forgotten something important, but I can’t remember what.”

“Have you got the stuff to collect what we need?” Itachi nodded. “Have you got snacks and water?” He nodded again. “Have you got emergency first aid supplies?” Another nod. “Then it can’t be that important, right? That’s all the main stuff.”

Itachi took a deep breath, still looking a little conflicted, “You’re probably right, let’s go, the days are getting shorter, and I don’t want you out after dark.”

You pulled open the door and held it for Itachi to exit first. You were rewarded with a smile that made you want to kiss him senseless, but he wasn’t joking when he said the days were short, so you supressed that instinct for the moment. Later, you reminded yourself, you’d get the pretty omega into bed later.

The snow crunched under your feet as you stepped outside, and your breath suddenly became visible. You took a moment to take in the view of the snowy trees surrounding the little clearing you were standing in. Despite the temperature, the charmed cloak was keeping the worst of the chill away.

You pulled the front door shut and startled some nearby birds, which then took flight, scattering clumps of snow onto the ground.

You appreciated the beauty of your surroundings; you didn’t think you would ever get bored of living here.

“Which direction first?”

“Towards the mountains,” Itachi said, looping the basket through one arm and grabbing your hand with the other. You gave your conjoined hands a little squeeze of acknowledgement and then allowed Itachi to lead you. Walking in the snowy woods had given you some trouble at first, but after half a month, you’d literally found your footing and were able to keep up.

“Itachi?” you asked, as you walked in the direction that Itachi had pointed out.

“Hm?”

“Can you tell me something about your childhood? A story, maybe? Something nice. I want to learn more about you.”

“Oh, if you’d like me to, then I don’t mind. How about… yes, this one is good: my best friend was called Shisui, and he used to play pranks all the time,” Itachi said slowly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Sasuke was his favourite target, I think, because he always reacted violently, but mother and I often intervened to protect him, so Shisui targeted me most of all. It was easier, I suppose.

“There was a girl in our village that liked me. I was too oblivious and busy to notice at the time, but everyone else knew. My mother thought it was sweet, even though my father would never have allowed me to court a beta. Shisui however, thought it would make for an excellent prank.

“He doodled mine and the girl’s names all over a piece of paper, joining our surnames and putting hearts everywhere, even writing lists of possible pup names. He then slipped it into the pocket of some trousers in my wash bin, as if I had been the one to write it.

“The next day, when my mother did my laundry, she found the paper and of course, believed it to be mine. There was no amount of begging and pleading that would convince her that it wasn’t, and believe me, I tried.”

Itachi chuckled, and you let out an amused breath, imagining how embarrassed a teenage Itachi must have been.

“When did you figure out it was Shisui?”

“It only took me about five minutes to figure out that it must have been him playing a prank, but my mother wouldn’t hear it, and she was insufferable about my ‘crush’ for several months.”

You snorted, “That’s a good story. Your mother sounds funny.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet her,” Itachi said, sending you a bright grin. “I think she’ll like you a lot.”

You laughed, “Let’s think about getting my memories back first, then we can handle the family meet and greets, okay?”

You watched as the amusement drained from Itachi’s face. You tried to keep the conversation going, but Itachi no longer seemed to be in the mood. You continued to search for the ingredients mostly in silence, with occasional descriptions of what exactly you were looking for.

You wondered what was wrong, but there never seemed to be a good time to bring it up.

It ended up taking less than an hour to find both the moss and the leaves, even hidden amongst the snow, but according to Itachi, Amplexus plants only grew at the base of the mountains, so it had taken another hour to even get close to where he thought one might be.

You had entertained yourself by swinging your hands back and forth and asking Itachi questions about the world once his mood seemed to lighten again. You loved James, but Itachi’s explanations were significantly more helpful. You’d learnt the names of all the nearby settlements, a rough run down of what they were like, and roughly how far away they were. You were making extra careful notes of which on you’d claim to be from when the time came for your ‘memories’ to return.

You were in the middle of asking Itachi about what kind of pets existed in this world when Itachi suddenly stopped, eyes squinted towards your left. You stopped too, falling silent immediately.

“There!” Itachi said, voice hushed but still excited. “I think I can see one. Follow, but stay behind me.”

Here, in an unfamiliar and vaguely unnerving snowy forest filled with unknown entities was not the time for you to start exercising your alpha bravado, so you obediently followed three paces behind Itachi, remaining alert all the while.

You were out of your element, so caution was the best approach. You imagined that broken bones were also not sexy enough for an erotica, but you could only rely on the world so much; there had to be a level of stupidity that would overcome the narrative safety nets, and you didn’t want to find out what level that was.  

The Amplexus plant came into view as you rounded past a tight cluster of trees. It was not something you would have seen in your world that was for sure, although it did remind you a little of a giant Venus fly trap, with slowly swaying, green appendages, each capped with larger, circular parts on the ends. Much to your horror, it was about the size of a bear.

At its centre of the plant were the seeds you had to collect. They looked a lot like pumpkin seeds but were each the size of an orange and suspended in some sort of purple, translucent organic pouch. You and Itachi somehow had to get your hands on two of them.

“This one is backed up against a tree which isn’t ideal,” Itachi said, studying the Amplexus from a distance of about three metres. “I’ll have to approach it from the front.”

“Is it dangerous approaching from the front?” you asked, anxiously pulling the cloak around yourself.

Itachi shook his head, “Not dangerous, just not ideal.”

‘James?’ you asked, struck by an awful sense of dread. ‘Is the Amplexus plant sentient?’

‘I cannot answer that question without four botanists, a linguist, and at least half a politician present, human, my apologies.’

Great. That meant yes. Nothing non-sentient had that much debate around it. You were just going to let Itachi handle this and hope nothing went wrong.

Speaking of Itachi, he was currently pulling a wrapped parcel out of the supply basket.

“Hold this please,” he said, passing it over to you. You took it easily, tucking it in the crook of your arm. “Please stand back and don’t approach the Amplexus, no matter what happens.”

You swallowed nervously, “Okay, I’ll stay here.”

Itachi opened the parcel revealing a chunk of raw red meat. Delicately, he took it out and passed you the empty wrappings. You watched, entranced as he laid the meat flat on his palm before muttering a spell under his breath. The red meat lifted gently off his skin, like it was being carried by an invisible force, and floated over to the Amplexus plant. Itachi followed behind it, but as the red meat floated towards the right side of the plant, Itachi tread carefully towards the left.

Your heart felt like it was beating a bruise onto the inside of your throat. You had no idea what was about to happen. Everything was agonisingly slow, until suddenly it wasn’t.

All at once, Itachi used his magic to fling the raw meat to the right of the Amplexus plant, while he darted towards its left side. The tendrils that had been swaying rhythmically suddenly jumped to life, snapping towards the red meat. Your comparison to a Venus fly trap was strengthened when the thicker end part of the largest tendril yawned open, before snapping down on the meat with a loud, and wet sounding slap.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Itachi was now right beside the plant. He reached quickly in and grabbed two of the seeds, one in each hand, before kicking off the ground to propel himself backwards to make a hasty escape.

Seemingly finished with its tasty morsel, the Amplexus plant returned to its original position, where it suddenly gained awareness of Itachi. He was already two paces away, the Amplexus seeds clutched in his hands, but that didn’t stop the plant from trying to grab hold of him.

You watched, frozen in place, as the tendrils lurched towards the witch. It was going to be close. You gripped your own cloak in your fists, tense, but unable to help. Itachi was fast, faster than you would have guessed.

But ultimately, he wasn’t fast enough.

Two tendrils managed to wrap around his upper arms, immediately tugging Itachi backwards towards the main body of the plant. You heard Itachi’s gasp of surprise, and the thump of the Amplexus seeds hitting the ground as he let them go. More and more tendrils shot forward now that Itachi was caught and aided in tugging him back, wrapping around his legs and torso.

Itachi struggled for a moment, trying to pull his way out and rip the tendrils off him, but once he was pressed against the body of the plant, being held in place by at least sixteen plant tendrils, Itachi seemed to accept his fate and all the fight bled out of him.

It was at that exact moment that you realised what erotica trope this was.

‘Oh my god, James, what the fuck?’

‘That was phrased as though it was a question, but it is not one I know how to answer, human.’

“Ah!” Itachi gasped, as the plant tendrils covered all his visible body from the tops of his shoulders to his ankles. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I, ah, I thought I could grab the seeds fast enough, but, ah, it caught me.”

Itachi seemed to be treating this as a minor inconvenience, but for the first time since arriving, you felt completely unbalanced by the porn logic here.

How could Itachi be okay being… touched… by that plant against his will? You were aware that this was a fairly common and not unpopular trope, hell, you’d even partaken a few times in your lowest moments, but to make it real? It didn’t seem right. You clenched your fists into your cloak as you reached a decision. No, you wouldn’t stand for it. You were going to defeat this hentai monstrosity and defend Itachi. No plant would touch him without consent if you had anything to say about it!

You dropped the basket and wrapper to the ground and grabbed the first thing you saw that could feasibly be a weapon: a hefty, gnarled stick.

“How do I kill it?” you said, whirling around with the stick and holding it up menacingly towards the Amplexus plant.

“Kill it?” Itachi said, sounding more alarmed by that than whatever it was currently doing to him. Only his face was visible now, as most of the tentacles writhed around his body, barring the largest one which seemed happy resting on top of Itachi’s head. “These plants are already so rare; you can’t kill it! I’ll be fine. I’ll just give it what it wants, and it will let me go.”

You deflated at his words. You felt awful just standing by, imagining all the things the plant might do to him. Itachi let out a little squeak and you had a sneaking suspicion that his rapidly reddening face wasn’t from the cold.

“Itachi, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?” you asked desperately. “Anything at all?”

Itachi only blinked at you, brows furrowed, as though he were confused by the anxiety in your words. “Oh!” he said suddenly, face melting into a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot that you have no memory of the local flora.”

Itachi paused for a moment as the tendril resting on his head decided to tug out his hairband, releasing the inky waves around his face. He sent the plant a glare and shook the hair out of his face as best as he could.

“Amplexus plants don’t hurt people,” he continued. “They just really, really enjoy hugging humans.”

You blinked at him, trying to comprehend what he was telling you.

“It’s giving you a hug?” you asked, blankly.

“Yes, and it will release me in a moment, I promise.” Itachi squirmed again as the tentacles around his chest tightened and the largest one gave his head a rub.

Now that you weren’t as panicked, you realised that the way the tendril on his head was touching him was more affectionate than anything. It was bumping up to him, nuzzling, and giving him pats, almost like an over eager dog, except in the form of a writhing mass of hentai plant tenacles.

“Oh,” you said, relieved, dropping the branch. “I thought it was, um, touching you.”

Itachi’s blush darkened but he shook his head, “It’s just a hug.”

You huffed, “You scared me! With the way you were trying so desperately not to get caught, I thought it was something bad.”

“I won’t lie… it is a bit inconvenient, and I had hoped not to get caught, but I suppose it’s too late for that now.”

“Will it be holding you for long?”

“No, no more than around a minute longer, I should imagine.”

You let out a relieved sigh, feeling much better about the whole thing, “That’s not too bad.”

“Well, the problem is less the time and more of the effect of the hug,” Itachi explained sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. “You see, Amplexus plants secrete a substance that doesn’t interact well with most fibres used for making clothes.”

“It’s damaging your clothes?”

“In a way, yes.” You got the distinct impression that if he were not currently pinned by a giant writhing mass of plant tentacles, Itachi would be fidgeting a lot more than he was. Certainly, his face was only getting redder as the conversation progressed.

You didn’t have to ponder his answer for long, because at that moment, the tendrils suddenly withdrew, (the main one giving him a couple more head pats for good measure), leaving Itachi sitting on the floor at the base of the plant.

An unharmed, but incredibly, and shockingly naked Itachi was revealed to you, his bare butt nestled in the snow.

Of course the plant had dissolved his clothes, you thought, a little hysterically. You didn’t know why you had expected anything different in this whacky dimension.

Itachi bashfully tried to stand, already shivering, while keeping one hand firmly covering his crotch and the other arm braced across his (still beautiful) nipples. You had a wonderful view of his blush creeping down his chest. His nipples must have been incredibly hard from the cold—No, not the time.

But as much as you enjoyed the view, you weren’t going to let your omega freeze because a random plant had got too enthusiastic. You took off your cloak, now the only one you had between you, and went over to Itachi (avoiding getting too close to the plant, of course), bundling him up in the warm fabric and helping him get to his feet.

“There you are darling,” you said softly, clasping the cloak around his neck. Itachi used his hands to keep the fabric pulled tightly to his body. Now that you didn’t have your cloak, you were grateful that Itachi had insisted on charming all your clothes for warmth like the mother hen he denied being.

‘There. You can’t say I’m not a respectful alpha, James.’

‘Why am I forbidden from making such a claim?’

‘Because I just gave my cloak to a naked omega in need!’

‘Human alpha, you’re staring at his hardened nipples through the cloak right now.’

You jumped when you realised she was right, and hastily averted your eyes with an awkward cough.

‘No comment.’

Itachi shivered and you dropped the connection with James to rub his arms with your hands to warm him up. At least he still had his shoes, otherwise you’d have been carrying a very naked Itachi home. On second thought, that didn’t sound too bad.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, standing in the middle of a fantasy forest, warming up a naked witch, while a suspiciously hentai adjacent plant swayed in the background, that you were hit with the absurdity of the situation.

The first couple of giggles forced their way through your firmly pressed lips. Itachi shot you a glare and elbowed you lightly with a huff.

“It’s not funny,” he said, still glaring at you. That was enough for you to lose your composure completely. Hysterical laughter burst forward with such strength that you bent over and braced yourself with hands on your knees.

“Oh my god,” you said between gasping laughs. “It melted your clothes because it wanted to hug you too much, what in the fucking hentai.”

“You’re laughing at me.” Itachi pouted, but soon, even he couldn’t deny the humour of the situation and a couple of chuckles bled through, melting his pout away.

“I’m laughing with you darling.” You stood, wiping away the tears that had built from the hysterics.

“I’m not laughing,” he denied.

“Yes, you are.” You pinched the end of his nose playfully and Itachi struggled to smother his smile with another pout.

“Hmph.”

You blew out a breath, watching the cloud of white float away from your face, “If you knew this was a possibility why didn’t you just pack some extra clothes?”

“I did! They’re—” Itachi froze, wide eyed. “I knew I forgot something!”

“Of course, you did.” You collapsed into laughter once more. “This universe is hilarious.”

Itachi ignored you, turning away to collect the basket and fallen seeds. He had just put the two seeds in the basket and turned to rejoin you when one of the Amplexus tendrils decided to be a menace and shot out towards Itachi’s ankles, tangling them together.

“Eep,” was the only noise you heard before Itachi was crashing into you, sending both of you sprawling to the ground. You hit the ground back first, knocking all the air out of your lungs. Itachi landed on top of you, legs spread over your hips, and hands braced against your chest.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, sitting up and glaring back at the Amplexus plant, which only swayed innocently. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey,” you said, propping yourself up so that you were now sitting with Itachi on your lap. You tried to ignore his stark nakedness for the moment and instead brushed some fallen snow from his hair. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s only me here, and I’m not going to hold this over your head. Do you trust me?”

“I do,” Itachi said, pupils expanding as he stared at you. “But still—”

“Still nothing. There isn’t anything I could see, even the most embarrassing thing in the world, that would make me feel differently about you.”

His facial expression suddenly changed, closing off, and just like that, Itachi pulled back and the moment was broken.

Bewildered, you asked, “Are you okay? Did I do something? I didn’t mean—”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice as cold as the snow around you. He got up off your lap and tugged the cloak around himself. “We should get moving; it’s cold.”

You jumped to your feet, “Right, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

Itachi didn’t say anything, he just picked up the basket and started moving in the direction of home.

“We should eat something, before we go back,” you said, anxiety clawing at you. You weren’t sure what had caused him to get so cold all of a sudden. “We’ll need the strength.”

Itachi stopped walking and tipped his head consideringly.

“Fine.” That was the only thing he said before he veered left. “There is a sheltered cave opening just down here that will be a safe place to rest.”

You followed him in silence. This wasn’t the first time today that he had suddenly grown cold. You couldn’t figure out a pattern in what was causing it, but something was very clearly wrong. You wondered if he was mad at you, but as you walked, he seemed to soften slightly, linking his free arm with yours. He still didn’t speak, but it assuaged your worries that you’d somehow messed everything up.

If he wasn’t angry at you, though, then what was wrong?

The cave appeared around the corner, just up from a small, frozen pond. It looked like any cave really, if a bit shallow, but it had a large, flat rock just inside the opening that would make a perfect bench, free from the wet snow that covered everything outside.

“It’s too shallow for any large animals to live in,” Itachi explained, stepping inside. His voice and footsteps echoed slightly as he moved. “It makes for an excellent resting stop. See, someone else was here earlier.”

He pointed to the remains of a campfire that was in front of the stone bench. It was long cold, but it still looked somewhat fresh. There was still dry firewood and kindling resting in the stone lined pit. Itachi considered it for a moment before clearly deciding something.

“Stand back,” he said, gently moving you to stand behind him.

“Why?”

He eyes your damp clothes and his own nakedness for a moment, “I figure we could use some warming up.” He brought two fingers from both hands up to his mouth and forcefully blew. To your shock, a jet of fire burst from his lips and towards the fire pit, bathing the cave in an orange light. The wood caught immediately, and you quickly had a burning campfire.

“That was incredible!” you said, sitting down on the little bench and holding your hands up to the warmth. “Can you teach me that at some point?”

“It’s a unique family magic, I’m afraid.” Itachi sat down next you to as you deflated. “Don’t worry though, there is much, much more I can teach you, if you’re interested. But for now, we should eat.”

He dragged the basket over and unloaded a selection of bread and various spreads and cheeses, along with a small pot of dried fruit.

“Which cheese if your favourite?” he asked, pulling off a chunk of bread.

Not expecting the question, you stalled, “Um, whatever one you’d recommend, I guess.”

Itachi nodded. He cut of a section of a harder looking cheese and placed it on the chunk of bread. You expected him to hand it to you, but instead he held it out over the fire.

“This type of smoked cheese is better slightly melted.” He held the cheese and bread there for a few minutes before withdrawing it. He blew on it gently before holding it towards your mouth. “Open up.”

Amused, you did as he asked. He placed the chunk of cheese and bread into your mouth, laughing lightly when you deliberately nipped at his fingers.

This was the Itachi you were more familiar with, but once the food had been eaten and packed away, his melancholic mood seemed to return.

“I can almost hear you thinking,” you said, pressing a kiss to his head. “What’s on your mind, Itachi? You’re worrying me.”

He didn’t answer, he only sighed, staring at the fire. The shadows it was creating on his face only worsened the hollow sadness on his face. You wished you could wipe away all his problems, the way he seemed to for you.

“Hey, whatever’s wrong, we can—”

“I killed someone.”

You stopped speaking, letting what he said linger in the air.

“I think you should know that, before we… before we get any closer. You have a right to know.”

You leant forward, trying to get Itachi to look at you, but he refused, continuing to stare directly into the fire.

Okay, you thought, trying to make sense of things, he killed someone. To be completely honest, you had considered that his exile had been caused by something like that. It wasn’t like the legal system in this world was the same as your old world, so he could very well have been punished for a murder with exile. The only thing that made you doubt that theory was that he was the love interest in an erotica novel, and this didn’t seem like the kind of erotica world where murder was sexy.

But many people did consider tragic backstories to be sexy, which would explain the angst. There was little as satisfying as good comfort sex in a saucy novel, you could admit that.

Regardless, even if he had killed someone, if you knew Itachi, and you really felt like you were starting to, he wouldn’t have killed someone for a petty reason. From what you knew of his childhood, he had likely been pushed into it, one way or another.

You were certain that whatever had happened wouldn’t change your opinion of him, but you could understand why he had been worried, why he had been pulling away. You couldn’t let that happen.

You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “Tell me what happened, Itachi?”

“I just did.”

“The whole story,” you clarified. “Because I know there’s more to it than that.”

Itachi didn’t move, just continued to stare blankly. When he spoke, his voice was monotone.

“When I was a teenager, my best friend, Shisui, as I have already mentioned, died. He took his own life, but the circumstances were suspicious. I was next in line for village leadership at the time, and I was struggling to grieve in between all the classes and meetings that I was never excused from. Everything was so sudden. To be honest, I can’t remember much of those first few days after he died.” Despite his flat voice, you could tell as clear as day that Itachi was still hurt deeply.

“That’s horrendous,” you said, scooting closer to him. “That sounds like too much pressure on a child regardless, let alone after a significant loss.”

Itachi didn’t acknowledge your words. He just stared.

“Some of the other members of my village, distant cousins of mine, decided to accuse me of personally killing Shisui.” You sucked in a breath. How dare they? Itachi was so gentle, he could never! “I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Every inch of my skin itched and burnt because I was so angry. I completely snapped.

“Again, I don’t remember much of what happened, only that I killed one of them and injured the other two. The council was furious. My father tried to argue that I had been provoked. My mother tried to argue that I wasn’t in my right mind. They were, and still are, the village leaders, so their words held enough weight to spare my life, but not enough to keep me in the village. I was exiled two days later.”

A log fell in the fire, casting new shapes of light and shadow across Itachi’s cheeks. He didn’t cry, he didn’t even tear up, but the pain was obvious. You were furious that Itachi’s family, his village, had pushed him until he couldn’t handle it anymore, and then punished him for breaking down when everything became too much. You kept that anger carefully simmering below the surface, refusing to let any of it seep into your scent or voice, lest Itachi misunderstand.

‘James?’

‘Yes, human alpha?’

‘You have to promise me, if I don’t choose to stay here, that you’ll make sure someone worthy ends up in this story. Itachi deserves someone who can love him properly.’

‘…’

‘James?’

‘I… I will try, human alpha.’

That was probably the best you were going to get.

You moved even closer to Itachi now, until you were pressed up against him. He still kept his head stubborn turned away from you, but that didn’t matter. You wrapped an arm around his waist, so that he knew you were there for him.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” you said softly, directly into his ear. You could feel more than hear Itachi’s shaky exhale of breath as his shoulder stuttered against your chest. “You are kind, generous, skilled in so many things, not to mention completely and stunningly beautiful.” Itachi let out a little disbelieving breath and you squeezed him as a little reprimand for doubting how amazing he was.

“I’m not a good person, I—”

“You’re a person who was pushed so far that you couldn’t cope, but that doesn’t make you a bad person, Itachi. I promise, I’ve met many bad people in my life, and you aren’t one of them.” You squeezed him again, but you could almost feel the way he was dismissing your words. You hadn’t expected that one motivational speech would cure all of his self-esteem issues, even in an erotica, but you had hoped that he’d at least listen to you.

You weren’t sure what else to do to help, until you realised that you had already touched upon an obvious solution. An erotica. You were in an erotica. Maybe you needed to play by the rules of this universe to make him understand. Maybe… if you made your point the way points like these are often made in erotica stories, he would feel the message you were trying to convey.

You nosed your way down his neck, tucking your face into the collar of the cloak and making the most of the fact that he was completely bare underneath by settling your lips on the warm skin at the juncture between his neck and shoulders.

“Itachi,” you cooed, making sure to breathe directly onto his skin as much as possible. Shivers that had nothing to do with the cold ran down his body and you took that as a sign to keep going.

You pressed open mouthed, wet kisses all the way up his neck until you reached his jaw, where you nipped lightly at the skin. Itachi gasped, his hands coming to grip the forearm that was still latched around his waist. You let out a little amused hum before placing another kiss on top of the same area to soothe it.

You kept up the assault on his neck until he was a puddle of blushes and shivers, leaning all his weight into you and unabashedly accepting your love.

“Itachi,” you whispered again, licking the outer shell of his ear. Itachi arched into you. He really was incredibly sensitive.

“Wh-why do you keep saying my name?” he gasped out, voice thick. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to tell you something.” Perhaps it was cruel to be purposefully obtuse, but you needed to make your point properly.

“Then tell me.”

You shook you head against his neck, “I want you to look at me first.”

With little hesitation, Itachi did as you asked, pivoting on the stone bench until he could comfortably look you in the eye.

All the skin on the right side of his neck was pink and covered in love bites, much to your pleasure.

“Tell me,” he demanded once more. His voice was quiet but not gentle.

You leant forward until your foreheads were touching and Itachi’s face was all you could see.

“I forgive you,” you breathed. “Itachi, I forgive you.”

Here, with his face pressed so closely to yours, Itachi couldn’t hide even the smallest of reaction from you. You were privy to every minute part of his response. You got to see the way his eyes widened as he registered your words. You got to feel the way he was torn between pulling back and pushing closer. You got to smell the way his scent spiked, formed from the indescribable mix of emotions held within him. You got to feel the way his face scrunched up, the way his hot tears felt as they rolled down his cheeks.

You got to see Itachi, the real Itachi, without his walls and without his fears hiding him from you.

Itachi finally gasped and pulled himself away, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Large tears streamed down his face at a rapid pace despite his obvious attempts to stop them.

“Don’t be sorry.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, but it was a fruitless endeavour as more tears replaced them every time Itachi blinked.

“I don’t normally cry,” he said, looking almost bewildered at his emotional response. “I’m sorry, I just—” He cut himself off as his face scrunched up with emotion again.

You pulled Itachi towards your chest until his head was resting against your shoulder and your bodies were fused together as one. You grabbed the napkins from the picnic basket and wordlessly placed them on Itachi’s lap for him to use at his own pace.

He grabbed the pile almost immediately, pressing one to his face. As thick, cloth napkins, you were sure it was doing a great deal in helping Itachi stem the tears.

You held Itachi as he sobbed, letting out years of pain and worry onto your shoulder. His loose hair allowed you free reign to run your fingers through it, scratching at his scalp whenever the sobs got particularly loud. You looked out of the cave and into the beautiful winter forest, listening to Itachi’s cries slowly turn into sniffles before disappearing altogether. Eventually, his breathing was so slow and deep that it wouldn’t have surprised you if he’d cried himself to sleep.

“I love you.”

You inhaled sharply at the quiet words. Itachi had whispered them like they were a shameful secret, so quietly that it was almost impossible to hear over the fire.

You couldn’t pretend to be surprised that someone so lonely and starved for positive affection had already reached the point of love, even after such a small number of weeks together. No, Itachi’s feelings you had expected, it was your own that took you by surprise. Because if you were to be completely honest, you loved him too. You had fallen head over heels with him, as a friend and as a lover.

It had only been two weeks, but you’d spent almost every second of that time together. You’d got to know him, seen more of his than perhaps you ought to, and yet there was still so much of him that you hadn’t seen and were desperate to.

You loved him. It felt right to say.

“Is that… okay?” Itachi asked hesitantly. Oh, you had been leaving him in suspense. Well, that wouldn’t do.

“It’s more than okay, Itachi, do you know why?”

Itachi lifted his head from your shoulder and searched your face. He was still red around the eyes.

“Why?” he asked, voice tinged with desperation.

“Because I love you too.”

You watched emotions war on Itachi’s face. He opened his mouth, and like a tap, words and worries poured out uncontrollably.

“But what if that changes when you get your memories back?” he asked, grabbing onto the front of your shirt. “You’ll go back to wherever you came from, and you’ll have a job, a family. And what if, what if you have a partner, a lover? What if you’re married?! What if this ends as soon as you take the potion?”

‘What if you leave me?’ went unsaid but was clearly communicated.

“Hey, stop—”

“No! You can’t know that that won’t happen! I can’t… I don’t want this to be too good, because it will only hurt more when I lose it.”

You cupped his face in your hands, running your thumbs underneath his wild eyes that were still tinged with red. You needed a way to reassure him without giving away that you didn’t actually have amnesia. Your own backstory was yours to create, and none of his fears were going to become reality. Either you would stay in this world and be with him, or you wouldn’t, and he would reset and forget that you had ever existed.

It was strangely emotional to consider such a dichotomy. On one hand, you’d miss him terribly if you decided to pick the other book for whatever reason. On the other hand, if you did stay here, imagining that future was a lot too. You would give him your mating mark, and maybe a ring to match. Maybe you’d stay in his cottage or maybe you’d move slightly closer to civilisation and build a new home together. Either way, you’d made sure to have an extra room for Sasuke and whoever in your family that you’d yet to invent that might want to stay. Maybe you’d have some pups, or maybe you’d just raise chickens or something. You could see a beautiful life here, with your witch.

But how could you reassure Itachi?

“There is no job that could keep me from you.” You tried to sound sure, unwavering, to reassure him. “And if I have a family, they can visit, or I can visit them. And maybe this is unfounded, but I feel like I would know if I had someone waiting for me, and I don’t think I do.”

“You can’t know that until—”

“But even if I did,” you continued, cutting him off. “I have no mating mark, no wedding nor engagement ring. If I did have a mysterious partner somewhere, then, in the words of Beyoncé, ‘if they liked it, then they should have put a mark on it’. I’d rather be here with you.”

“Who’s Beyoncé?” Itachi asked, bewildered.

You laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

Entranced, you both leaned in at once, sealing your lips together in a desperately horny kiss as weeks of tension suddenly burst. There was a raw intensity to the kiss, born from the clashing of pent-up emotions. There was some awkward teeth clanging, a little pain, but the way your lips danced together was warming you more than the fire ever could.

You couldn’t feel much of Itachi through the cloak, but that didn’t stop your hands from wandering. You moved from cupping his face, to running your hands down his chest, to squeezing at where you guessed his waist was.

Itachi was doing much the same thing, running his hands over your shoulders and chest without pause. You could tell that he was most enthralled by the obvious tent in your trousers though, as his hands kept drifting towards your crotch. This wasn’t exactly a surprise because you’d caught him staring there a few times since The Boner Incident™️, but now it seemed that his hands were suffering from the same curse as his eyes.

Itachi’s scent was clogging every sense you had as you continued to kiss. The sinful noise from Itachi that you managed to coax out and swallow suggested that your scent was doing much the same to him.

“Here, baby,” you whispered against his lips, hands teasing at the clasp of the cloak. “Let’s make this more comfortable.”

“Wait.” Itachi’s hand landed over yours. You stopped immediately.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, but… we’re outside,” Itachi said, his eyes darting to the entrance of the cave. “That’s not allowed.”

You blinked at him, “Itachi, there’s no one but us for miles.”

“Oh… yes, of course, sorry, carry on.” He lifted his hand from yours with a sheepish smile. You sent one back and slowly, purposefully, unclasped his cloak.

The fabric clung to Itachi’s shoulders, but with a little nudge, the cloak fell and pooled around Itachi’s hips on the stone bench. And just like that, Itachi was fully, properly, bare to you for the first time. Or, at least the first time that you were encouraged to stare at him.

His pale skin glowed in the firelight, catching on the silver hints of barely visible scars. It was normal for everyone to have a few, but you hadn’t expected to see so many. It was another question to add onto your list about his upbringing.

It was also with a glorious delight that you were able to truly study his nipples after being teased with only glimpses for so long. They were pebbled from the cold, just as you’d predicted, but as pink and delightfully round as your dreams had promised you. This world would certainly have artists who accepted commission work; you wondered if Itachi would let you get a painting or sketch of his nipples? Maybe if you asked him nicely.

“Is this… okay?” he asked, seeming shy under your gaze. ‘Am I okay?’ his eyes asked instead.  

“More than okay; you’re perfect.” Itachi’s shoulder’s relaxed and softened at your admittedly cheesy words. Well, erotica was a cheesy genre, and hey, now that you were in an erotica story, you couldn’t say it was a bad thing. It certainly made flirting easier; you didn’t have to be so witty. “Stand up for a quick second, darling.”

Itachi did as you asked without question, which shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but you could unpack that later. You stood too, and taking the abandoned cloak, you laid it out so that it covered the entire stone slab. It wouldn’t do much to make it more comfortable, but it would keep the chill of the cold stone at bay.

Guiding him, you laid Itachi down against the covered stone and hovered over him in one smooth motion.

“Let me warm you up.”

You connected your lips again. You kissed more slowly this time, but with no less desperation, your lips tingling pleasantly. Itachi’s hands tugged at your shirt. You thought he was pulling you closer, but a little growl of frustration soon hit the air as he tugged more incessantly.

“Off,” he growled. “Take it off. I need—Take it off. I’m naked, you’re not, that’s not fair.”

You laughed at his logic but obliged, pulling off your shirt and dropping it by the foot of the stone slab. The rush of cold air was a shock to your system, but with the roaring fire, the temperature could have been worse.

Itachi seemed to be possessed by a hunger when the shirt obstacle had finally been removed. His hands and eyes feasted on your exposed flesh. You shivered at the sensation of his surprisingly calloused hands dragging across every inch of exposed skin.

“Is it okay?” you asked, parroting his earlier question.

“Perfect,” Itachi moaned, propping himself up to kiss and bit at your neck, one hand still groping every bit of free skin that you had presented to him.

It was clear that the sexual tension hadn’t only been affecting you. Itachi was more intense than you’d imagined, which was fuelling your own desperation. And there was one desperate desire that sat above all the rest.

“Itachi, hang on a second,” you said, pulling his face away from your neck. “I have a question for you.”

Itachi, who had looked rather displeased to have his neck kissing session interrupted, now looked curious.

“I was wondering if you knew” -you pushed him until he was laying flat against the stone and started kissing down his throat- “what you were doing when you grabbed that glass of water, the very first day we met.”

You didn’t linger on his neck for long, moving your attentions to his collar bones, and then eventually down to the valley between his pecs. Itachi’s hands flew to the back of your head.

“Wh-what do you mean?” His voice was breathy, and while the intensity of his desire remained, he seemed happy to submit to you now.

You hummed, using your thumbs to massage the underside of each of his pecs while you continued to leave wet kisses everywhere but where he was trying to guide your head.

“That afternoon, when you grabbed the water, you gave me the most amazing view straight up your jumper and to your pretty nipples. These pretty nipples.” You ghosted your fingers around his areola but drew them away when he tried to arch into the touch.

“What?! I- I didn’t mean to do that!” he gasped, face going bright red. “It was an accident.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It seemed like you wanted to tease me, Itachi. Were you trying to tease me, the strange alpha that you’d only just met? How naughty.”

Itachi tried to tug your mouth to his nipple again, but you held firm. He made a little frustrated noise, lifting his head up to shoot you a glare that you only grinned at.

 “That’s why I want you to ask me,” you continued. “No, actually, I want you to beg me, Itachi. Beg me to give your nipples some attention, to kiss them, suck them, bite them.”

Itachi held firm for a few moments, but a couple more touches and a few well-placed breaths later, and you were rewarded with something beautiful.

“I-I- Please… Please k-k-kiss them.”

“Kiss what, ‘tachi?”

He sent you a flustered glare again, but soon he stuttered out a reply.

“My ni-nipples, please.”

Every nerve ending that you had set alight, and your trousers were quickly becoming painfully tight. Every instinct you had was screaming at you to ravish the pretty omega, to reward him for submitting so nicely. And, well, you’d never been one to ignore important instincts.

“Good boy.” His cock twitched where it was resting on his stomach and that was all the encouragement needed to fulfil the witch’s request.

Your thumbs and forefingers went first, settling on Itachi’s hardened nipples and pinching and flicking to their heart’s content. Itachi groaned, his eyes fluttering shut and his head falling back against the wooden bench. Moans and squeaks continued to pour out of him with reckless abandon. The blush pink colour darkened a little as you continued with your gentle abuse.

Then, once you could resist no longer, you removed your hand from his left nipple, and descended with your mouth. Like a person dying of thirst coming across an oasis, you lapped at him greedily, drinking in all the sensations. The feel of him against your heavy tongue was divine, and soon your own moans joined Itachi’s, who had become twice as loud.

You were delighted to find that, with the presence of your warm mouth, Itachi’s nipple was slowly softening. You could feel every crevice relax, coaxed open just for you. You took the newly soft nipple in your mouth and sucked. Itachi arched so far off the bench, desperate to push closer to your mouth, that you were surprised he didn’t hurt himself.

You hummed, amused and more than a little smug. This was quite literally a dream come true.

You pulled back from his chest, purposefully catching him with your teeth as you did, so that you could admire your handy work. Slicked with your spit, his nipple glistened in the firelight, painting a stark picture of difference with the one beside it.

You clicked your tongue in faux disappointment; that wouldn’t do. Those beautiful, pink temptations needed to match.

Once you had performed the same on his other nipple, you pulled back once again, focused more on Itachi as a whole this time. He looked entirely debauched from head to toe. He was breathing harshly eyes closed, neck covered in bites, chest red and cock practically weeping. The dark black fabric of the cloak didn’t show stains, but you were certain that the patch under his hips was now damp with slick.

Itachi let out a shuddering breath, “How did… Is it supposed to feel that good?”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, my darling,” you said, amused. “If you’ll allow me, I’d be honoured to show you something else that’ll feel amazing too.”

Itachi propped himself up on his elbows and gave you a bashful look, “You should know that… I haven’t done stuff like this before.”

You took a shaky breath as a thousand and one things you wanted to do to him flooded into your brain at once, competing for dominance. Of course, he hadn’t had sex before. His childhood was spent being groomed as the next village leader, and then he’d been exiled with his only rare piece of company coming in the form of his immediate family. Thinking about it, it would have probably been more surprising if he had experience, but you just hadn’t expected the love interest of an erotica novel to be a virgin.

“We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to,” you said, trying to sound reassuring over the lump in your throat. Hey, if he didn’t want to keep going, the general cold in the air should get rid of your boner this time, no need for cold water. That was marginally better.

“I do! I mean…” Itachi hesitated for a moment, and you were expecting him to call it a day. “You’re not going to leave me as soon as you get your memories back, are you?”

Your face softened at his question. To be completely honest, you had kind of got caught up in everything and forgotten about his anxieties in the process.

“Never,” you promised. You felt a little guilty at the prospect that you might choose the other pocket dimension, but if that happened then Itachi would quite literally forget you existed, promise included. Perhaps it was a little scummy to make a promise with someone who would forget if you broke it, but you justified to yourself that these were exceptional circumstances. “I know it sounds a bit silly to say out loud, but I feel right when I’m with you. Meeting you was like a part of me I never knew was missing clicking back into place.”

“No, it’s not silly!” Itachi said breathlessly, staring at you with wide eyes. “I feel the same. It’s like I’m alive when you’re here, for the first time in my life, truly alive.”

“When I look at the future,” you started, breaking for a moment to peck Itachi on the lips. “I see us sharing a home, waking up together every day, maybe even raising some chickens together. Never do I ever imagine a day without you in it.”

“I’ve always wanted chickens.” Itachi was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Then I’ll give you as many chickens as you want.”

“And you don’t mind that I don’t have any experience with relationships?”

You grinned sheepishly, “To be honest, it’s kind of hot.”

Itachi seemed amused for a moment, but sincerity quickly overtook it. “Then I would love for you to take my virginity.”

“No,” you said, kissing the surprised look off his face. “If we do this, nothing will be taken. We will both gain something, a great experience, together.”

Itachi looked entirely besotted, but you had meant every word. Even if you left, even if he forgot, you would still have this experience with him, and you would treasure every second.

‘That was very smooth, human. The commodification of the social construct of virginity is harmful indeed, why, Glatheenron was talking about it just the other day and—’

‘James, genuinely, that is an important discussion and I appreciate your support, but I’m sort of preoccupied right now, so maybe you could wait until later?’

“Then allow me to rephrase my earlier statement,” Itachi said, drawing you out of your head. “I would be deeply happy if we could share my first time together.”

You leant down and pressed a loving kiss to his forehead, “As would I, my sweet omega, as would I.”

Next Chapter

[goldfades]

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡ ᥫ᭡ TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS!

STARTING DECEMBER 13, 2024 TIL DECEMBER 25TH !!

⎯ hello, everyone! welcome to my celly! in celebration of christmas, i'll be doing a 12 days of christmas blurb fest featuring some of my favorite fandoms! each day will bring a festive theme, cozy vibes, and a touch of romance.

⎯ i will also be doing an ask segment, where you'll be able to send me an emoji, an idea (from my list, or your own) + a prompt!

AND the holidays approach, it’s important to remember those who are facing hardships, such as the people of palestine. in times of crisis, solidarity matters more than ever. you can support palestinian communities by donating to reputable organizations providing aid, such as food, medical supplies, and shelter.

amplifying their voices on social media, supporting palestinian-owned businesses, and educating others about the situation can make a big impact. every action, big or small, helps create a ripple effect of hope. let’s spread compassion and stand together for justice, especially during this season of giving!

here are some links that can help, thank you for reading and helping palestine!!

help palestine with a click | heal palestine | unrwa | resources for palestine

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; send me a 🎀 for a blurb !!

prompt lists you can choose from! happy little holiday scenarios for your otp , a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both! , christmas prompts

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 ; 12 blurbs for the 12 days of christmas!

12/13/24 ➜ DAY ONE ft. matt rempe | SLIPPING INTO YOU Matt drags you to the local ice rink. Matt is a natural skater, while you can barely stand without falling. Cue laughter, clumsy hand-holding, and lingering touches as they help each other stay upright (though, that doesn't do much)

12/14/24 ➜ DAY TWO ft. rafe cameron | UNDER THE MISTLETOE At a posh Tannyhill Christmas party, you get caught under the mistletoe with none other than Rafe Cameron. Friends egg you on, but what starts as a joking kiss turns into something much deeper.

12/15/24 ➜ DAY THREE ft. jack hughes | CLASSIC ONE-BED TROPE A planned weekend getaway turns into an extended stay when a blizzard traps you and their your long-time crush, Jack in a cozy cabin. With only one bed and a fireplace for warmth, your unspoken feelings finally come to light.

12/16/24 ➜ DAY FOUR ft. quinn hughes | TANGLED UP IN YOU You and Quinn team up for a late-night gift-wrapping session. Between ripped paper, forgotten tape, and silly arguments about the “right” way to wrap, your laughter turns into a moment of quiet intimacy.

12/17/24 ➜ DAY FIVE ft. paige bueckers | HOME FOR CHRISTMAS You join Paige in Minnesota for her family’s Christmas celebration. From sledding on frozen lakes to drinking her favorite hot cocoa, you see the side of Paige that only comes out at home, and it feels like she’s letting you into her world

12/18/24 ➜ DAY SIX ft. jude bellingham | SANTA'S FAVORITE FORWARD After his last game before the holiday break, Jude finds you in the stands wearing his jersey and a Santa hat. He runs to you and lifts you into a hug, promising he’s all yours for Christmas. Insisting on cooking Christmas dinner for you (despite his lack of experience), the kitchen turns into chaos, but his determination to impress you makes it the best meal you’ve ever had.

12/19/24 ➜ DAY SEVEN ft. luke hughes | CHRISTMAS TREE FARM You and Luke visit a Christmas tree farm to pick out the perfect tree. Between wandering through rows of evergreens and Luke lifting you to reach the top branch, your chemistry becomes undeniable.

12/20/24 ➜ DAY EIGHT ft. jack hughes | SWEET LIKE YOU You and your boyfriend, Jack have a cookie-decorating contest against his friends and their partners. The guys get way too competitive, but your boyfriend insists your messy cookies are “art.”

12/21/24 ➜ DAY NINE ft. joe burrow | WHERE THE HEART IS The reader invites Joe to their hometown for Christmas. Amid festive parades, ice skating, and meeting the family, sparks fly, and the love interest realizes what “home” truly means.

12/22/24 ➜ DAY TEN ft. nico hischier | HOME ICE ADVANTAGE During a Christmas trip to Nico's hometown, his family challenges you to a backyard hockey game. He’s torn between showing off his skills and helping you win against his competitive siblings.

12/23/24 ➜ DAY ELEVEN ft. auston matthews | UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS Auston hides an engagement ring in an ornament, and while you’re decorating the tree, he gets down on one knee.

12/24/24 ➜ DAY TWELVE ft. paige bueckers | BEST SECRET OF ALL Paige loves outdoing everyone, and when it’s time for the team’s Secret Santa exchange, her overly thoughtful gift for you makes it clear she’s paying extra attention. You scramble to figure out how to match her energy.

★ merry christmas to my babies!!! i hope everyone enjoys, and cheers to a new year, and many more together 🫶🏼

© goldfades 2023

all materials posted are MINE!!!, i do not give permission for my writing to be posted on ANY other website without my consent. i will report your ass.

[shuenkio]

Wishing on You | 니키 — 엔.하.이.픈 🎄

• Paring: Ni-Ki X M!reader | Genre: Soft fluff.

Synopsis: Dating M/N as a joke, using the relationship to escape his own painful memories. However, karma strikes when Ni-ki unexpectedly falls deeply in love with M/N for real.

Cw: bad language, none.

Non proof read | English is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A☃️N: A Christmas gift for all lol, I cannot can't be in this holiday 😜 can't exactly say I'm back but it's 5050. Anyway advance happy Merry Christmas.

"I'm sorry about this m/n, look I'm sorry ok? You know I never apologize to someone but you. I know I was wrong in this for toying you, and I know you won't forgive for what I've done for... Can we pretend like this was never a joke ? Like we're for real together now?" Ni-ki expressed how guilty he was, he never said the word sorry before which made this situation even worse and somehow made you feel special? Or was it a lie again?

Snow continues falls softly, blanketing the world in quiet. Each flake drifts lazily, melting on warm skin of both, turning the air crisp and still.

The icy weather does help you to get from boiling hot at some point however, deep down in your ocean of thought, it feels like he meant what he was saying. The bad guy who got destroyed by many girls, the one who got cheated on, the one who got hurt the most in the end. Then why would he toy with you, when he knows so well about this feeling, being betrayed on?

That's not the case right now, for what you're thinking. Kinda toxic that you wanted to get back with him too but why not? He can change, you can change him don't you? The one that never says sorry or thank you typa guy but for you, it was a different scenario? Ni-ki is regretful for what he did, well his nose is kinda red right now wait is he tearing, gosh.

Stressing, Hands tucked into coat pockets, m/n exhaled, warm breath curling into the frosty air. You made up your mind, either staying with him or ending this relationship for real.

Tears streamed down his face, silent and unbroken, Ni-ki's chest still as if even grief refused to shatter the quiet. He looks down to the snow covered ground, avoids being looking at, while he is on his weakness.

Close the distance between you and him, as you lift up his chin.

"Are you sure you'll never do it again?" You asked. He drew a shaky breath, forcing himself to steady, his voice trembling but clear as he spoke through the tears, determined something.

"i swear to Santa, if I'd toy, cheated, playing with your feelings again on you, I'd let you shave my head bold" what?

"sigh shut up"

"can I...hug you?" M/n rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as Ni-ki, still wiping away tears, hesitantly asked for a hug.

"fine I guess..," You said nonchalantly, the voice is flat, as you shrugged slightly, offering no more than a careless glance. Despite the dismissive tone, you didn’t pull away when Ni-ki stepped closer.

Ni-ki wrapped his arms around you, pulling them close, resting his chin on your shoulder despite the height difference. There was a warmth in the embrace, a sense of quiet comfort that filled the space between them.

Under the flake storming, You could feel the weight of Ni-ki sigh against your neck, the way his body seemed to melt, just for a moment, into the calm of being held. It was a strange mixture of vulnerability and safety, and though You'd remained still, that both of you couldn’t ignore the faint tug in their chest.

"I'll be good for you... Really"

"..."

"바보같이 사랑해..."

"Okay... Well um... Merry Christmas?"

© to all the rightfully owners of pics and dividers.