#a very merry outsiders christmas

[b0n3s-is-gay]

Winter/Christmas with the Gang: How they'd spend it with you (Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto)

Master list: Here

Darrel "Darry" Curtis:

Kisses under the mistletoe, slow kisses under the cover of warm light from the christmas tree

Wrapping gifts together! Buying gifts for the gang with the money you two pooled together. He'll either listen to the radio with you, watch christmas specials while wrapping, or he'll tell funny stories revolving around the holiday.

If it's after the events of the book, you two head out to Johnny and Dally's graves. You light candles and sit out there with the gang, spending time with the two kids until you're reminded of the December chill and your own humanity.

Christmas Day, you sit with Darry, cuddled on his lap so he can't be like that dad with the trash bag on Christmas day/eve.

If you two get carollers, which you probably won't because of where you live, you'll stand with him and his brothers (if they're not too tired) and listen.

Decorating with him and his brothers, it's soft and domestic. It reminds him of how he used to decorate the tree and the house with their parents.

Throwing flour at one another when baking christmas treats. It's nice to make him let loose with the holiday, even when you're goofing off with the gingerbread.

If a smell were to describe the winter months with him, It'd be Nutmeg and vanilla

Keith "Two-bit" Mathews

Mickey Mouse Christmas specials while cuddling. Any animated show like, Charlie Brown, that has a christmas special, you bet you're watching it.

Christmas day, you either spend the morning with his mom and sister or the Curtis gang. There is no in between. He's either spending it with his sister and mom who put up with him or he's getting shit faced at the Curtis House while enjoying the day.

"I wish you'd suck me like that candy cane" "Maybe I will, but wrap it in a bow first."

When (if) you or the curtis brothers make eggnog, he spikes it. No reason at all other than Christmas cheer.

After the events of the book, if you two go see Johnny and Dally, he's quiet. He talks to Johnny, telling him about how his mother and father got arrested. When he talks to Dally, he pours a beer for him and talks to him about everything from how Ponyboy is doing to joking with him (I like to think they were really close when Dally wasn't a hard ass).

When you open gifts from him, there's always one joke gift. It could be a card with monopoly money to a box with an I.O.U for a gift (He gives you the gift afterwords.)

If it snows, he's going to throw some at you. Throw one back. Build a Snow man that looks like Two-bit and he'll build one that looks like you.

If there was a scent to describe this, it'd be aged whiskey and mint.

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

For starters, don't expect your gift to be bought. It's stolen, it's all stolen.

When it comes to Christmas, he's the Grinch. If someone slips on ice, especially a Soc, he's smiling like a mother fucker like he's the one putting ice around.

Winter time, especially Christmas time, you bet your ass you're spending it with either Johnny and Ponyboy or the whole gang as they are his family (as much family as a guy like him has).

If you get him a sweater, he'll wear it but only in the comfort of his room at Bucks. He loves you, but no, he wouldn't be caught dead wearing it in public as he doesn't want people to think he's getting soft (he has).

Christmas eve, you're in his arms while humming christmas tunes. He'll tell you to be quiet, but he doesn't mean it... It's nice, it's domestic...

If you're baking a cake or something of the sort, he's either smacking your ass or hugging you from behind. There is no in between as this man either does it all or does nothing too much.

Three words, Hot Coco Kisses. Kiss him after you take a sip, he'll deepen the kiss for the full flavor. He'll do this for just about holiday sweet you eat because why not? I personally think he likes winter treats

If there was a scent to describe his holiday, it'd be leather and dark chocolate.

Steve Randle:

Winter with Steve is like any other day, just a bit colder. Being from a house of abuse (I get you Steve, ur one of my favorites), he never got a chance to see the appeal of the Christmas spirit before he met Sodapop.

Spending time with Steve during the holiday season is mostly at your house or the Curtis house. He's not bringing you home when his dad is in one of his relationships with Whiskey Bubbles. So you better get used to the constant chaos of the Curtis Household or try and get your parents to be real cool with a greaser real quick.

If you two decorate your tree or deck the DX with all these lights and decorations (with permission from his boss), he's going to be staring lovingly at you. His heart swells when you ask him to lift you up so you can hang some garland, trying to bring some life to the work place.

Christmas songs on the radio, you two dance along to them with a smile. When "I Saw Mommy Kissin' Santa Claus" plays, he kisses you and smiles brightly when he hears your muffled giggles.

If you're at the Curtis household, you're going to be sitting on the couch with him all cuddled up. Watching christmas specials much like what Two-bit does. Sharing a slice of chocolate cake or a beer if sweets aren't your fancy.

If you get him a gift for Christmas, his heart is going to melt. As I stated before, he never got that christmas or gifts of the sort. So when he does get those gift, he feels so happy. Anything you give him will be cherished and held close to his heart. It doesn't have to be fancy, it's the thought that counts.

After the events of the book, I think he'd go out to the Grave yard with the gang. He wouldn't say much until it was just you, him, and the graves of your fallen friends. He'd talk to them, telling them how he wished they found their peace because nobody should go through a mortal hell and then a spiritual hell after.

The scent of this would be hard to describe, but I would say it smells like oil or grease with chocolate cake.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis:

Sodapop loves Christmas, it's no secret. The gifts aren't needed, he'll be so happy if he's surrounded with the people he loves. The gifts are a plus though.

Mistletoe! Much like Darry, Sodapop loves kisses under the mistletoe. Quick and loving or slow and passionate, it doesn't matter. Mistletoe just makes it magical, the winter scene outside made it seem like a Hallmark movie (yes, they have been around that long. Since 1951!).

If you plan on baking with him, rethink that idea. Sodapop Patrick Curtis cannot cook or bake for shit. This point has been made time and time again. He can decorate, but he can't cook or bake. Maybe consider getting him a cook book or teaching him for christmas.

At work, much like Steve, he'll help you decorate the DX with permission to make it more welcoming. It's not needed, but it brings a smile to his face as you hang garland and set up a little faux tree on the counter with little soda cans and candy bars. It's funny, more tensil ends up on you and the floor than the tree.

Post Book, Soda would still be smiling. Picking up the pieces of what happened in that short span of time made the winter months a bit hard. Visiting Dally and Johnny, talking to them... Sandy cheating on him and then only telling him that baby isn't his by sending his letter back, unopened. It's rough, but he powers through it with a little help with you. (TL;DR, he's depressed for the first week or so but it's easier as you help)

I see and think about this a lot, but the Curtis Brothers are slow dancers in their own elements. Soda's slow dancing element is when you're doing something alone. Soda will slow dance with you to anything, anywhere, at the most random times. It just tends to get a lot worse when the snow starts falling.

Speaking of snow, he actually doesn't like it. I see this man as a summer creature. He gets tired in the snow, like a lizard. If his feet get cold, it's like ice. That has lead Ponyboy to establishing a rule where he has to wear socks to bed until spring when it starts to warm up. He is not having it.

If there was a scent for this, it'd smell like that fresh laundry smell and apple cinamon candles that have just been blown out.

Johnny "Johnny Cakes" Cade:

Johnny Cade... My beloved, this man has only ever had a christmas with the Curtis gang. Not very many gifts but that's fine, a day where he's not near his parents and getting abused is a win in his book.

When winter does finally roll around, he tends to spend it at the Curtis Household or at yours as it gets too cold to sleep in the lot unless he lights a little camp fire. When he stays at your house, he tends to leech onto you and steal your warmth like a cat. It's adorable.

When it snows, Johnny likes to bundle up and go out with you. You make snow angels, build snowmen, throw snowballs at each other, and over all have fun in the snow. It's not often he can let loose and have fun without having to fear Socs, so when he does relax... It's a far cry from what he's usually like.

When you two start setting up the trees and decking the halls with boughs of holly (fa-la-la-la), he's smiling with you. The radio is on or the tv is on playing some kind of christmas program that he's not paying attention to. When the Mistletoe goes up, he smiled and shyly kisses you before letting you continue. If you want him to put the star on the tree, his smile will widen. He'll either use a step stool or sit on your shoulders to do so.

Johnny likes when you read to him while cuddling next to the tree or in bed. Read him a random book while the snow falls outside, he'll fall asleep while cuddling or look up at you with a big smile while you turn the pages.

On christmas eve a few years back, when everyone is opening their gifts, there's one at the back of the tree. The present is for Johnny. Everyone smiles as they pass it over to him, watching as he unwrapped the little box. Inside the box was his iconic jean jacket. Every christmas season, he smiles as he puts it on. In his head, it's a reminder that people love him and it spurs him on to keep going.

If you cook for your family or the Curtis Household, he'll help. He's not Darry level chef, but he can mince an onion really even. It'd be a bit out of the ordinary if he didn't spend so much time over at your house where he'd do his homework while you made dinner.

A scent that I'd feel would describe this best is fire (not because of the church) and chocolate oranges.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis:

Sunsets in winter! When the turkey is destroyed and the carb coma has faded away, Ponyboy is ready for Christmas. He'll take you out to the lot on a day where he knows Johnny won't be there and watches the sunset with you. The first sunset of winter is always his favorite one to watch.

If you try really hard, you can maybe get him to sing along to some christmas songs. He can sing, don't get him wrong, but it's embarrassing and he knows that Steve will make fun of him. He enjoys singing as he used to sing all the time with his mom and dad before the accident, but he just doesn't sing a lot because of the gang and because he doesn't have the time.

After dark, when Sodapop and Darry are asleep, he'll sneak out and meet you at the lot. You'll walk around at night, talking about the winter months.

Post book, I think Ponyboy will use these night walks to go to the grave yard to sit with Dally and Johnny (Someone talked about how the gang pooled their money to buy a bench between the two graves for Ponyboy, I agree with that). He'll sit with you after you light candles and read from "Gone with the Wind" to Johnny.

Decorating the tree with him and his brothers is fun. Again, tinsil is all over the place rather than on the tree. You and Ponyboy get your hands tangled up in the lights and garland, lauging as Darry and Sodapop untangle you both. The brothers would talk about the orniments and were they're from. Come time for the star, Darry lifts Ponyboy up on his back to put the star on.

When Darry starts his christmas baking, he insists on you and him helping. It's like a bonding moment between the oldest and youngest with you there as a bridge between them (Soda is at work or spending time w/ Steve).

Say it with me now.. MISTLETOE! Ponyboy is the opposite of Darry. Usually his kisses are soft, but under the mistletoe? He's passionate. He's always got a little sprig of mistletoe in his pocket to use when he goes over to your house where you two can close the door.

A scent to describe winter with him... It'd have to be a blend of cigarettes and milk chocolate.

Tag list: @witchyleehibernates

[dykealloy]

Trafalgar Law and Faith

Pre-emptive warning this is going to be another LONG metapost/analysis. There’s a lot I could talk about here but for the sake of structure I’m going to split this into three sections, i.e. the main ‘faith transitions’ that Law has gone through in the narrative thus far: 1. Flevance (catalyst for loss of religious faith), 2. Corasan (martyr that figuratively and literally saves law by giving him something to live for, introducing the will of D.), and 3. Luffy (cementing faith in this new belief system and regaining trust in the goodness of humanity through the living embodiment of everything Corasan believed in).

Before we get into all that though, let’s establish that Christianity is a thing in one piece. Speedrunning through some visual examples that come to mind; the Flevance church and nun (holding a celtic cross - censored in the anime version), a nun literally praying to God right before Marineford, Vinsmoke Sora’s grave marked with a cross (is op Christianity a northern thing?), Usopp and Chopper having crucifixes and holy water whenever ghostly stuff is brought up, Kuma and his trusty bible, the religious symbols on Kikoku’s hilt (could instead be more a reference to the Red Cross/symbol of humanitarian and medical aid as a doctor) and especially in whatever Mihawk’s got going on (though this could just be a Japanese cultural thing with Christianity being a minority religion or Oda just finding that some of the iconography, y’know. looks cool). There are also many other references to other religions e.g. hinduism, shintoism, buddhism, etc. Whether op forms of religion are the same as the real-world ones is debatable, and yes, Law being canonically raised as a devout catholic schoolboy with all the religious trauma associated with that is comical, but let’s take it all unironically for a hot minute. For fun. 

1. Flevance

Law’s birthplace (Flevance) is described as being, at one point, “a very wealthy country with an unearthly beauty about it, with pure white soil and plants, like some kind of snow kingdom in a fairy tale.” The country’s wealth came from the very bedrock it sits on — white lead, which could be used to make various high quality products like tableware, cosmetics, weapons etc. When the wider world heard about this everyone wanted a piece of Flevance (the World Government also getting involved with distribution), and very quickly white lead became a “bottomless well of money”. So, hooray. Law gets to grow up in a rich city in a big house with educated doctor parents and probably gets to go to private school on weekdays and festivals with his family on weekends. One problem. In their greed, the Government and royalty have been knowingly hiding the truth about this supposed goldmine from the beginning. White lead is a toxic poison. Mining it from the ground over the last century and putting it in so many everyday products has resulted in it accumulating in the citizens’ bodies and leading to amber lead sickness, shortening their life-span with each successive generation – with the children of Law’s generation fated to die out before they reach adulthood.

In the bible (especially in the old testament), God often inflicted these insanely disastrous events upon humanity, usually as some kind of punishment for their wrongdoings or as a test of their faith. Some events of which include (but are not limited to): famine, outbreaks of disease and natural disasters (e.g. hail, wildfire, earthquakes, floods). Historically, these stories played a key role in how humanity interpreted meaning from horrible disasters (e.g. assuming bubonic plague was sent as a punishment by god). Fire imagery is very common among these disasters as a representation for hell, which is clearly reflected in the destruction of Flevance.

Sometimes these disasters had sole survivors act as messengers for God. With that context, let’s put ourselves back in the shoes of a ten-year old Law. Raised religious, freshly traumatised from losing his home, his devout family, all the comforts of his life, and having the outside world completely abandon him, this kind of event is likely going to be processed as some form of divine punishment. Law stumbles through hell, finds all his dead classmates, and the last words of sister nun echo through to him here. Merciful and salvation are huge catholic buzzwords – promises of holy compassion, deliverance and hope – and all of it fire and smoke and riddled with bullet holes before him. A genocide funded, perpetuated and covered up by the same body Law was promised was there to save them. And the only reason Law hadn’t died with them was because he wanted to stay with his little sister Lami, who was on her deathbed, and his parents, who were themselves trying to help the afflicted citizens, Law’s own father (before he was shot and killed alongside his mother) begging for more doctors, fresh blood, anything the world can offer, and asking “Why doesn’t the government announce to everyone that white lead is not infectious?”

Oftentimes (and in the case of Law), when there’s a promise of heavenly intervention or some miracle that doesn’t follow through, it results in an ultimate feeling of betrayal and anger. Unfortunately a lot of Catholic teachings also use a lot of guilt, essentially teaching people that the bad things that happen to you are your fault and there needs to be some sort of penance (queue Law’s survivor’s guilt that carries on down the road). But also, if this was supposed to be some divine punishment, for what exactly? For the town being blinded by the incredible wealth they were sitting on? Being lied to? Continuing to extract their livelihood, ignorant of its dangers? Punishment for who? His parents? His innocent little sister? For ten year-old Law? These people who believed in God, who were good people? That’s fucking stupid. None of these people suffered and died for any reason at all — certainly not for a sacred one. God hadn’t saved a single one of them. Law had to crawl out of hell himself by sneaking over the border under a mound of corpses.

Given everything that happened here, Law has every reason to fall into nihilism, and you can see how his upbringing would’ve bred a lot of the feelings of guilt, anger and resentment that you still see in Law (which would suggest that though this is where he likely cuts ties with the religious/Catholic component of his faith, growing up with these teachings in his formative years would definitely influence underlying beliefs about how the world works, and how Law behaves and subconsciously processes information), but at the same time, there’s usually some form of redemption and changes to how these patterns of behaviour can be approached later down the line.

2. Corasan

Fresh off witnessing his whole world burning down around him, Law meets Corazon at the very bottom of this pit of self-destructive rage and unprocessed grief. Rosinante himself mentions to Sengoku that the hatred in Law at this time reminded him of his brother, but beyond the anger, harsh pessimism, vengefulness, I think you have to reach to find similarities between them. You can see some fragments of Doffy in Law down the line at times, with Law seeming to enjoy violence (especially against the navy, but given what they did to Flevance, it’s some well-deserved retribution for Law imo), but I’m not so sure it’s the cruelty so much as it is the high he gets off his own flavour of justice. Doctor’s Hippocratic oath maybe, but never once does Law like seeing others die (even at this point, he’s in tears next to a dead body, even though he’s the one holding the knife), and later on in Wano he makes it explicitly clear to Zoro that he’d rather see the mission fail than have any of them end up dead.  

Little Law wanted to destroy the world and everything in it, but thinking rationally, what other choice did this kid have? He had no remaining family, was doomed to die before he hit puberty due to a terminal illness, was perceived as an infectious subhuman that most doctors would’ve sooner tried to exterminate than help. To Law, the world had turned its back on him – considering him a monster for simply surviving. He has all this hatred and pain boiling away with him with no tangible target to direct it towards. And this is the first clear cut rejection of faith that we see in Law. Any concept of a merciful God had just died. What God would allow this? Why is Law alive (a question that he repeats to himself throughout his life), why are these scumbags alive, why is the world going on spinning as if nothing has happened when his whole world had gone up in flames, why does anyone at all get to be here when everything I loved is gone? And it’s far easier to fall into a despondent nihilistic stupor than it is to work through any of that, and what’s the point in trying to process and move on from it, when there’s no hope for a future for Law anyway? When the only thing waiting ahead is more pain? What was this, if not a punishment? He’s supposed to be some messenger for God? How about fuck God, or whatever entity that exists that made him suffer this. Law’s not going to be a messenger for shit, thanks, he’d rather be their monster, he’d rather watch the world burn.

Corazon survives Law’s stabbing and doesn’t rat the little shit out (to Law’s confusion). It’s business as usual for another two years, then, one day Rosinante overhears his true name - Trafalgar “D” Water Law, and everything changes. On the back of his own beliefs, Rosinante dedicates himself to making sure Law a) lives and b) doesn’t become his brother. Law’s relatively short six month stint with Corasan forms the basis of Law’s new creed going forward, and all it took was a bit of kindness, love and humanity when the rest of the world had abandoned him. In the end Rosinante doesn’t save Law for the will of D. and the storm he’s predicted to bring in the future (as Law suspects), but he certainly believes in it, and the strength of Corasan’s conviction transfers right over to Law when he forces the ope ope fruit down the kid’s throat to heal him, tells Law he loves him, then sacrifices himself to set Law free.

Law clings to that love he was given, he takes all these fundamental teachings and ways of thinking in regards to faith that were drilled into him during his youth, rejects the religion element and applies just about everything else to Corasan. He holds onto the last shreds of what Corasan leaves him with. Corasan becomes his “benefactor” (he gave my my heart), his saviour, his martyr. 

And the crazy thing is, Rosinante was never really this saint Law makes him out to be. Law hated the clutz when they first met (mostly on account of Corazon throwing him through a glass window down at least two stories and into a pile of scrap). Corazon initially showed nothing but contempt for his presence (to ward him and the other children away from the Donquixote family, but these are still extreme measures). And it wasn’t until after learning Law’s name that Rosinante dragged him kicking, crying and screaming from hospital to burning hospital (not very saintlike in of itself), even after Law begged him to stop. Rosinante became Law’s saviour partly because of his belief in the will of D., and probably due to some guilt being a Donquixote, but mostly because he has always had a bleeding heart and he pitied (and had very quickly come to love) this angry, sick, deeply lost little kid. All this to say that Law’s faith in Corasan – this saintlike figure Law upholds him as in the future and the lengths he’s willing to go to avenge him/fulfil Rosinante’s purpose reflects the strength of the absolute beliefs Law would’ve been raised with in regards to God.  

Whether it be out of survivor’s guilt (just one more body to heap on top of the Flevance pile), his love for Corasan, or for the sake of taking vengeance on the man that took away the one good thing he’d been able to regain in his miserable life, Law adopts Corasan’s will, the will of D. (which in of itself seems divine in nature), incorporates it into his new belief system, actively takes on the role of the divine punisher/justiciar and dedicates his life to bringing down Doflamingo.

3. Luffy

Catholicism dictates that the entirety of someone’s beliefs should be dedicated to one true cause (that cause being God) and expects people to ride on that, letting it carry them through life, give them hope, purpose, etc. But a lot of former Catholics choose instead to find that through something else. Corasan ignited the spark in Law’s faith around the will of D., but it’s not until he meets Luffy that this really becomes something that feels tangible and real for Law.

When Law saved Luffy in Marineford (putting the heart crew in danger for a stranger he met once), he said he did so “on a whim”, but that seems incredibly ooc for Law — this man that pretty much planned out how the rest of his life would go after the dust of Corasan’s death settled and he came to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to die at age thirteen like he’d originally thought. Circling back to the concept of Law being a sole survivor/messenger for God, it is interesting that Law is the one to seek out Luffy (given that Luffy is usually always the one either being abandoned by people or recruiting his crewmates), and Law is ultimately the catalyst for pulling him towards Dressrosa and Wano. There must be a REASON that led to Law deciding Luffy to be the most viable option out of the Worst Generation for an alliance (beyond blind trust in an unhinged captain that just so happens to also bear the initial D, and Luffy being one of the few captains crazy enough to go along with what Law was cooking up). 

Law undoubtedly would’ve kept a peripheral eye on Luffy for some time before officially meeting him due to him being a rising competitor pirate and another “D” (I imagine the news of his utterly insane exploits would’ve made good reading material, too). The first time Law lays eyes on Luffy in Sabaody though, he still blows all expectations out of the water — crashing headfirst into the crowd of a slave auction and immediately committing a felony against a member of the most powerful upper one percent.

The world nobles are at an “untouchable God” tier in terms of class standing and believe it’s only natural for them to be entitled to whatever and whoever they want in this world that’s beneath them – the same kind of self-aggrandizing false divinity that Law has a a lot of repressed rage towards and that the will of D. is fated to oppose, so this, understandably, is a highly compelling first encounter, but it’s really only an initiating factor for what ultimately draws Law to Luffy. From their very first meeting (and probably before then, in the news stories and rumours Law likely picked up on), it’s made abundantly clear that Luffy does what he wants without a second’s hesitation, no matter the consequences, simply because he feels it is the right thing to do. Some call this an iron will, Law would be more inclined to call it willful stupidity and trouble, but time after time Luffy somehow manages to pull off what Law would best describe as “miracles”. And Law believes the straw hats just might be the ones to drum up another one for him.

Luffy’s also got a lot of passing resemblances to Corasan going for him, e.g. inherently kind, compassionate liberators with big dumb hearts and wide goofy smiles in spite of everything they’ve been through, treating Law as nakama and saving his life despite his protests etc. All of which I’m sure Law hasn’t been completely unaffected by despite the high walls he puts up. And the more Law learned about Luffy the more it probably became clear that he is the antithesis to Doflamingo, i.e. what makes Luffy so goddamn dangerous and terrifying beyond his physical power is his ability to make friends with a simple kind of unconditional love that gets reciprocated enough so that these friends are willing to die for him.

Luffy agrees to the alliance, they successfully blow up Caesar’s base, and head off to Dressrosa. Now’s the time I should bring up that it’s taught in Catholicism that self sacrifice is the ultimate heavenly deed, and here Law is undoubtedly prepared to be a martyr for his cause. Law sends away his crew to Zou before Punk Hazard with the expectations that he’d never see them. He cultivates a fierce emotional detachment against Luffy’s willingness to bring him into the fold of the straw hats, and is resolute in that when the time comes, he will handle this himself, he will carry out Corasan’s will, and if he has to die for it, he will die with Corazon’s name plastered on his back. (Note here that Christianity is contradictory in that Law being this ready to die here is a sin, because revenge and suicide are highly discouraged, so you could say that by avenging and dying for his saviour, Law would be committing both the ultimate sacrifice and the ultimate sin).  

Things get very dicey for Law in Dressrosa, to put it lightly. Doflamingo reveals that he was a celestial dragon (linking back into the will of D. “enemy of the Gods” notion), puts Law on the backfoot and gives him a thorough beating before shooting Law with a couple dozen white lead bullets in front of Luffy (because even when he’s winning Doffy loves to be a cunt about it). By the time Doflamingo is cuffing Law to the heart seat, it’s all looking pretty grim, and it’s very apparent when Luffy shows up to save him, that he is ready to die. 

Law here has given up. He spent years planning his revenge for Corasan, but he lost, and he has very little left in the tank (physically, emotionally, spiritually). But Luffy doesn’t listen. Luffy who doesn’t think, doesn’t care, who trampled all over Law’s carefully laid out plan from the get-go and who is willing to take on Doflamingo single handedly for the simple slight that he dared to harm Luffy’s friend Law. Law will never find peace in his own demise because Luffy doesn’t do peaceful. He does loud and unashamed and open with no rhyme or reason other than the excruciatingly simply fact that he loves people and he thinks the people he loves deserve to have good lives. Luffy chucks Law over his shoulder and drags an injured Law across the city despite his protests (sound familiar?) and in the process inspires the fighting spirit in Law again.

When Law confronts Doflamingo again with Luffy in tow, Law’s faith in Luffy confounds him. The last Doflamingo remembers of Law is this beautifully moldable dark pit of grief and rage who’d given up on believing, period – who wanted the world destroyed. Not so long ago, Law had been a candidate for Doflamingo’s next protégé. Now?

THIS is the action (grinning, staring down the barrel of a gun, flipping Doffy off as he tells him in not so many words that he may kill Law but he will never beat Luffy), Law’s unshakeable faith in the face of his own death is what has Doflamingo realising he will never regain control of Law again – is what incites Doflamingo to go from breaking Law down so he can build him back up again, to conceding defeat and outright killing him. 

The trust that Luffy inspires in Law and the way he talks about Luffy (Luffy being this powerful, miracle-inducing liberator that Law can’t comprehend but follows anyway, Law laying down his hopes on him, weaponizing the will of D. to try and provoke fear from Doffy), is very reminiscent of the awe and faith talked about in scripture. Law discovers the feelings of comfort and hope that Catholicism was supposed to give him in Luffy, but Law’s belief in Luffy is a direct rejection of those teachings. Rejection by believing in a real life person as opposed to the divinity he was taught about. He’s also cementing his belief in the will of D., thus rejecting Doflamingo and all the people that embody the sort of “all powerful” divinity that he abhors (i.e. celestial dragons, Kaido, the Gorōsei/five elders) for the embodiment of hope and humanity. 

When Law survives (again), he expresses he’d rather see Luffy beat Doflamingo with his own eyes or die with Luffy if he loses than leave. Then he watches, after all this talk of miracles, looking up in reverence as Luffy delivers, bright as the sun, haloed by the bars of a cage that’s haunted him for over a decade, Corasan’s words echoing at the back of his mind. God had never saved or freed Law, but Corasan was there for him, the heart crew was there, Luffy was there. And this is Law’s biggest, clearest rejection of religion – this newfound faith in humanity. 

This faith in Luffy is put to the test again in Wano when Luffy is struck down by Kaido, but Law never truly stops believing that he’ll make a comeback. Even when the straw hats doubt whether he’s alive or not, something tells him Luffy’s not dead, and he holds onto that hope. 

We also have the whole nika/joyboy backstory which really only reinforces all of this imagery/god-fearing looks of awe from Law and this idea of Luffy who is this perfect juxtaposition of empathetic and kind to incredibly fearsome fire and brimstone fighter. And regardless of whether you’re into the ship or not this is the impetus of Law’s relationship with Luffy for me, because here’s Luffy who has every right to have a chip on his shoulder and be downtrodden about all the injustices against him, here’s this little guy who against all odds, in the darkest of places, embodies light and hope and kindness and proves to Law that there will be hard times but there IS a happy ending at the end of the tunnel, despite it all. And everytime Luffy rises to the insurmountable challenge and wins, it just further cements that the will of D. is alive, that Corasan was right, that there's something redeemable in Law, a reason why he was worth saving, even if Law doesn’t understand it quite yet. 

[cryscendo]

klaine duets + spotify tracks

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

I think I'll be ok, Hilbert.

[onlymingyus]

First Snow

pairing; jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; fluff, angst, smut (minors dni)

warnings; ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, reader has a son, divorce is mentioned, ex-husband, parent of reader mentioned, svt members cameos, eating/drinking, alcohol, slight power imbalance (assistant!reader), unprotected sex, sexual health talk/reader iud, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, teasing, pet names, switch!wonwoo, switch!reader, manhandling (wonwoo can lift the reader), tears of pleasure, scratching, breast play, body worship, begging -- i am sure i am missing something.

w/c; 33k and some change + 1.1k of bonus content exclusive to patreon

a/n; this was a pleasure to write and it certainly got out of hand. i love a good plot. i hope you enjoy it and merry christmas/happy holidays my babes. thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Hello?” 

Wonwoo rests the phone against his shoulder as he turns in his office chair towards his desk. He had been answering his own phones for the past twenty minutes since you were already running late. It wasn’t usually a common occurrence but lately it has become more frequent. 

“I am so sorry. I’m literally in the parking lot, Mr. Jeon. I just have Jacob with me. His babysitter is sick. I’m waiting for someone to get back to me about coming to pick him up.” 

Your voice made Wonwoo smile. You were a good assistant and a good mother. He had met your son a few times since you started working for him about two years ago. Shaking his head, Wonwoo glanced out of the glass window that separated his office from the rest of the building and the others already working before he sighed softly. 

“Until they can get here, just bring him inside. There’s no reason to sit in your car, Y/N. I’m sure he’s not thrilled sitting in his car seat.” 

Wonwoo had no idea how right he was. Three year olds were, in your opinion, worse than the terrible twos. You weren’t even sure who had come up with that bullshit. Jacob’s eyes were red from crying as he clawed at the straps, keeping him safely contained in the seat in your backseat as he pouted at you in the mirror. Yet, the idea of taking him inside and sitting at your desk outside of Wonwoo’s office sounded like a nightmare. Jacob wasn’t the quietest child. 

“I couldn’t. He’s–” Like clockwork to put emphasis behind your point, Jacob screams “momma!” and it breaks your heart as big, fat tears stream down his face. 

“He’s bored in your car. You can work out of my office with me until someone comes to pick him up. It won’t be a bother. I like Jacob; we’ve always gotten along.” 

You can’t help the sigh that slips from your lips. They had always gotten along. Wonwoo had probably met your son a handful of times but it was true that at that time he had a way with kids. It was a shock to you that he didn’t have some of his own. It was a bigger shock that he wasn’t already married, but that wasn’t any of your business. 

“Out! Momma? Take shoes off!” 

Jacob’s demands make Wonwoo laugh as he sighs, leaning back in his chair and looking at his computer screen. His finger moves over the scroll wheel of his mouse, moving the screen down as he reads every other word. It was cute hearing your little sighs of uncertainty. Everything about you was cute to Wonwoo, though he wasn’t sure it would be very professional to tell you that. 

“I–Jacob, calm down. Fine, yes, okay. We will be right up. I’ll catch up on your schedule. Oh, Wo–Mr. Jeon? Call Mr. Kim. I meant to put that on your calendar first thing this morning. He wants to set up a lunch.” 

Before he can say anything, the call disconnects, causing Wonwoo to laugh under his breath, feeling his cheeks burning. He had asked you to call him Wonwoo on several occasions, but you insisted that since he was your boss, he deserved respect. 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances towards the window behind him to watch you wrangle your bag and an upset toddler to your hip, along with his things, before you move towards the door. You were amazing. Parents in general were amazing, but there was something about a single parent that made Wonwoo just take a step back in wonder. 

He was sure that you had some help. You had mentioned your parents helping you in the past, and other relatives too, but he knew you still did almost everything on your own. Just the simple act of carrying another human and all of those belongings seemed overwhelming to Wonwoo and you did it without a second thought. 

Using your badge on your keys, you let yourself into the building, already apologizing as Jacob sniffles back tiny sobs, catching the attention of your co-workers. You hadn’t wanted to bother any of them but especially not Wonwoo. The sheer thought of him drew your eyes up the stairs, where his office door was next to your desk. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You know that my Jenny is around the same age. Your little one won’t be a problem.” 

Lia’s voice brings your eyes back to her as she smiles at you, moving towards you to offer to help carry something. She had always been so kind to you. Everyone had, and you had really gotten lucky with this job. Everything had fallen apart and you had vowed to Jacob that you’d pull yourself together and figure it out. This job had shown up in the listings and two years later, it was still the best place you had ever worked. 

"Thanks, Lia. Oh no… I’ve got it. I have to go upstairs to Mr. Jeon’s office. Jacob is so fussy. He said I could work in there until my mom comes to pick him up.” 

A knowing smile spreads across the woman’s lips as she stops and lifts her fingers to brush away Jacob’s tears, causing the small boy to smile at her and grab her fingers like a toy. 

“Did he? That’s so nice of him. He’s such a kind boss.” 

Sighing, you laugh, letting her pull her hand away from your son carefully so you can start up the stairs and hear her small laughter as you whisper back to her. 

“Don’t even start. I’ll text you later.” 

Waving at you, Lia returns to her desk but you know she wasn’t the only one to note your words. You had worked hard not to start any rumors about you and Wonwoo. Mainly because there was nothing to talk about. He was just a kind man and there was nothing happening, but that didn’t stop some people from thinking otherwise. 

Swallowing hard, you start to knock on Wonwoo’s office door when the door opens just before your knuckles can make contact. He had been watching and waiting for you to make it up the steps. 

"Here, let me, uh? I can take this.” 

You start to tell him no but Wonwoo takes Jacob’s bag from you before you can tell him otherwise. A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the weight taken off of your arm as you step into the room and hear the door close behind you. 

“Thank you. I could have handled it, though.” 

Wonwoo just grins, putting the bag onto a leather couch before making his way back towards his desk, choosing to lean against it. You have to look away when your brain screams about how handsome he looks. It was amazing how he could look like the lead in some drama. The hot CEO of a company was just sitting on the end of his desk, about to deliver some profound lines. 

“I know you could have, but you don’t have to do it all alone. At least not today. Unless you are just wanting to hold him, I don’t mind if Jacob is down on the floor.” Seeing the look on your face, one of uncertainty as you look around for anything breakable or any uncovered outlets, Wonwoo laughs and continues, “There’s nothing he can mess up. Everything is replaceable, and I babyproofed everything months ago.” 

Swallowing hard, you feel Jacob wiggling in your arms to be put down upon hearing his name out of Wonwoo’s mouth. With a sigh, you lean to let him on to the floor, watching him crawl towards the couch and reach for his bag just out of his reach, prompting you to walk towards it, opening it, and handing him his sippy cup. 

"Uh, why would you? I mean, why did you babyproof your office? You don’t have a kid of your own? I–shi…I mean, not that I’m aware of. That seemed out of line. I apologize.” 

Laughing, Wonwoo watches Jacob with his drink, finding the small boy adorable as he holds both handles and looks up at him with curiosity. Shrugging, Wonwoo finally finds your eyes again before shaking his head and gesturing towards Jacob. 

“My assistant has a child. It would be irresponsible of me not to. Even if something like this hadn’t happened, what if we had some other reason for him to be in my office and he wound up hurt because I hadn’t?” Shaking his head again, Wonwoo moves back around his desk, letting out another long sigh. “No, I couldn’t allow that. He’s far too important.” 

Smoothing his tie down his abdomen, Wonwoo sits down before looking up at you to find you staring at him as if he had just read you a complex piece of literature. Tilting his head, Wonwoo laughs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before leaning to pick up his phone. 

“I’m going to call Mingyu and set up that lunch. Do you want to go get your laptop so you can work from here for a bit? I can watch Jacob while you do.” 

Surprised by Wonwoo’s words, you look down at Jacob, who smiles at you, holding his sippy cup up at you before smacking it against the floor and laughing. That would be fine, right? You would just go outside, get the laptop, and do a couple of other things.

“Yeah? Yeah…sure okay. I’ll be right back. Jacob? Momma will be right back. Behave for Mr. Jeon.” 

God, what were you even saying? Giving one more look to Wonwoo, you watch him smile as he leans back in his chair. His eyes move to the toddler on his office floor, and his attention splits between him and the phone, allowing you to slip out the door. 

Wonwoo shakes his head, a chuckle on his lips, when Jacob babbles a few words before looking up at him and showing him the sippy cup. The phone was ringing, waiting for Kim Mingyu, his best friend and partner, to pick it up. 

“Yeah? You got your cup, little man?” 

Mingyu smirks a bit, pulling his phone from his ear at Wonwoo’s words, before narrowing his eyes and letting out an amused breath. 

“Since when do you call me little man? Do we need to hit the gym together again?” 

Wonwoo’s cheeks were burning but he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. He had just picked up at the wrong time. Laughing, he adjusts himself in his seat to follow Jacob as he shakily moves himself to his feet and walks towards his desk, babbling about momma. 

“No, shut the hel–shut up. Y/N said you wanted to set up lunch.” Distracted, Wonwoo leans to watch as Jacob moves around the desk, grabbing at his pants and offering him his sippy cup, trying to pull himself up into his lap. “I–momma will be right back. Do you need—? Hang on, Mingyu.” 

Confused, Mingyu just laughs, walking towards his office and offering a wink to his own assistant before closing the door behind him as he listens to Wonwoo. The sound of shuffling and then the same toddler he had thought he had heard in the background makes Mingyu stop in his tracks before he even reaches his desk. 

“Alright, as I was saying—" 

“Dude, do you have a kid right now?” 

Wonwoo smiles at Jacob, who smacks his sippy cup on Wonwoo’s desk before he sighs and nods to answer Mingyu before doing it out loud. 

“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s son. She’s getting her laptop so she can—” Realizing the details of that weren’t important, Wonwoo just sighs again and laughs, reaching up to smooth Jacob’s hair and trying to change the subject. "Lunch. When do you want to get lunch?” 

Dropping his briefcase on to his desk, Mingyu scoffs, trying to imagine his best friend with a baby but then hearing who’s baby it was makes it all make sense. 

“Ah, Y/N’s son. So is it “bring your hot assistant’s kid to work day” at your office?” 

Scowling at Mingyu’s words, Wonwoo looks towards the door, afraid you will overhear him. He had kept it professional with you as much as he could, but that didn’t mean that he had drunkenly mentioned his crush on you to Mingyu once or twice. And clearly, his best friend was an asshole who wasn’t going to let him live it down. 

“No, shut up. She was in a bind; someone should be coming to get him in a bit. Can we stay on track?” 

Mingyu purses his lips, sliding into his chair with a relaxed groan, a smile playing at his lips. He could get used to hearing Wonwoo flustered. Wonwoo might remember just a couple times talking about his “crush” on you, but Mingyu recalled multiple times of Wonwoo detailing his wish for a life with you. This was serious. 

"Yeah, sure. Make you a deal? We can get lunch tomorrow and go to our usual spot. I’ll pay as long as you ask the hot little milf out.” 

That was it—the last straw. Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo pulls the phone from his ear and hits end, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he talked to Mingyu today. The man was like an annoying little brother he could never get rid of. 

Balancing your laptop and a mug of coffee, you use the toe of your shoe to open Wonwoo’s door, only to stop in your tracks when you see Jacob sitting in his lap. A quick train of thoughts races through your head. One: Oh my god, what if Jacob spills something on his suit? Two: Oh my god, he looks so handsome with a kid in his lap, especially your kid. And three: just, oh my god. 

“I was gone too long. You didn’t have to pick him up. He’s clingy.” 

Now you were rambling. Moving into the room quickly, you place your laptop at the end of Wonwoo’s desk before letting him take the mug of coffee from you with an appreciative smile. 

“He’s just fine and you weren’t gone too long. You didn’t make yourself a cup of coffee?” 

Glancing at the laptop and the mug, you laugh just as Wonwoo does before he slides his cup towards you and Jacob lifts his cup towards Wonwoo’s mouth. 

“I can get another in a few minutes. Sit down and get settled for a few minutes. You’ve been running from the moment you woke up, it seems.” Glancing down at the toddler and the cup, Wonwoo laughs, taking it and pretending to drink from it before offering it back to Jacob, who giggles. “Thank you, buddy. See, I can share with him.” 

Sliding into the chair, you take a breath while watching him with Jacob. It seemed so natural and easy for him. You shouldn’t enjoy watching your boss with your son so much. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and open the laptop before bringing the mug to your lips and taking a sip of the coffee, letting it warm your throat and chest. The caffeine is a welcome hit to your system as you watch the device in front of you power up. 

“Mm, oh. My mom will be here in about less than an hour to get Jacob. Thank you for being so patient and kind about this.” 

Wonwoo nods, a smile on his lips as he looks over your pretty face. He could see you were tired and yet you always managed to look so put together at the office. He wished there was a way to help you out and let you get the rest you needed but yet he had a feeling that if he gave you time off, you’d just use it to do something else productive. 

“It’s really not a problem. I talked to Mingyu. Can you put a midday lunch on my schedule for tomorrow? Also, once things are up and running, could we go over what I have for the day?”

Wonwoo watches you switch into assistant mode, the mug back onto a coaster on his desk. You cross your legs, drawing his attention unknowingly to your thighs as your skirt hugs them perfectly. 

“Do you want to start with what you have first? I can already see things are going to overlap after lunch. We will need to reschedule your meeting with Mr. Hwon. I can do that easily; his assistant is easy to work with.” 

The hour passed too quickly for Wonwoo’s liking. Jacob had found his way back onto the floor, and you had given him some toys from his bag to play with as the two of you worked as if nothing was different. Wonwoo was beginning to enjoy having you in the same room as him instead of having to call for you either through the door or to send you a message. Besides, the view was much better than usual. 

When you make a sound of surprise looking at your phone, Wonwoo looks up from his computer again to watch you stand up and move around to collect Jacob’s things. Your mom must be outside. It almost made him sad to know things were going to go back to normal so quickly. Sighing softly, Wonwoo slides out of his chair and around his desk to offer his assistance, causing you to laugh and shake your head. 

“I–oh, Mr. Jeon. I’m okay. I will just run him downstairs and be right back up. Say bye bye to Mr. Jeon, Jacob.” 

Pouting, Jacob looks up at you and then at the tall man before babbling about his shoes. Wonwoo can’t help but smile, noticing one of the pieces of velcro had come undone, making it probably uncomfortable for the toddler. 

“Bye bye, Jacob. Here, let me fix it. Is that better?” 

You can feel your heart tightening once again as Wonwoo kneels down to adjust the velcro on Jacob’s shoe, making the little boy smile. Nodding, Jacob babbles bye bye a few times, moving to hug Wonwoo’s leg and Wonwoo can only close his eyes. It was his turn for his heart to feel heavy. He liked this kid. 

“Have fun with your grandmother.” 

“Nana…” 

“Ah, with your nana.” 

With your quick correction, Wonwoo laughs and ruffles Jacob’s hair before watching you pick him up and leave the room. He was in trouble. He wanted to see you like this again. Something more casual, and he wanted to see Jacob again. 

Outside, you lean into your mother’s car, adjusting the straps over Jacob’s chest and waist as he babbles about his cup and toys before finally landing on Jeon. Your mother’s brow lifts in curiosity as she tries to hide her smile, but fails when you meet her eyes and shake your head. 

“Stop it; don’t even start with me. He hears me say my boss's name all the time, and we were just upstairs. I told him to say bye bye to Mr. Jeon. He’s learning new words all the time.” 

Nodding, your mom leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before laughing against your warm skin. All she wanted was for you to be happy and you had been happier than you ever had in the past few months. Things seemed to be finding a normal pace but she still wanted you to find someone to settle down with, but all you ever seemed to do was work and talk about Mr. Jeon. 

“I didn’t say a thing, darling. We will see you after work. Have a good day. I love you.” 

Muttering that you love her back, you then turn to Jacob to tell him how much you love him and beg him to behave. It isn’t until he realizes that he is leaving you that he starts to pout and cry, making your heart hurt as you have to go back upstairs and work. 

Giving Wonwoo a courtesy knock on his office door, you slide back in, offering him a sad smile before moving to the laptop to start to collect your things. His eyes move over you curiously as he tilts his head. 

“You okay?” 

Nodding, you laugh softly, pulling your purse onto your shoulder as he stands watching you move so closely that it makes you feel like the room is smaller. 

“Oh yeah. It was just hard to see him crying after spending more time with him today. I’m fine, though. I’ll get to my desk and get back to work. Again, thanks for accommodating me today.” 

Wonwoo wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to go back to your desk but he knew that working from a corner of his wasn’t ideal. The chair you had been sitting in wasn’t good for your back and as much as he wanted to keep sneaking peeks at you, this was work. 

“Of course. Really wasn’t a big deal. Thank you for…you know. Being great at your job.” 

Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but laugh under your breath at Wonwoo’s wording. He was usually so well spoken, but that was a bit clumsy and almost as if he were flustered. Biting at your bottom lip a bit, you just smile and lower your head before leaving his office, letting Wonwoo catch his breath. 

Maybe it was getting a later start in your day or the fact that you were desperately trying to keep yourself busy so that you’d stop trying to sneak peeks at Wonwoo, but the end of the day came quickly. Sighing softly, you send one last text to your mom, letting her know you’d be on your way soon when Wonwoo’s voice pulls you out of your little world and back to reality. 

“Have a good evening, Y/N.” 

You smile at Wonwoo, whispering for him to do the same, when he bites at his lips, stopping and turning back towards you, pointing with his briefcase in your direction. The action makes you laugh and tilt your head. Had he forgotten to tell you something or had he forgotten something in his office? Glancing over your shoulder, you start to speak when he beats you to the punch. 

“Are you busy this Saturday evening?” 

Wonwoo watches you look from his office door and down to your desk. Your eyes were wide and you looked like you had seen a ghost. He hadn’t even said why he was curious but he knew you weren’t an idiot. 

“I–well…” 

Jacob…fuck. You have a kid. Wonwoo thought to himself, thinking he was such an idiot for even bringing it up without giving you much time to prep for his question. 

“Probably right? Stuff with Jacob?” 

You shake your head and Wonwoo’s head tilts curiously this time. No? That was different. To be fair, Wonwoo wasn’t sure what you really did on weekends. 

"Actually, he will be with his dad this weekend. He gets him once a week... Why are you asking?” 

Right, he would need to answer that question. Wonwoo could feel his palm go sweaty around the handle of his briefcase the moment you answered the question. Licking his lips, Wonwoo reaches up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand, offering you a smile. 

“I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to get dinner and drinks. Especially if you have the night free." 

Your boss was asking you out. That wasn’t something your brain was making up, was it? Looking past Wonwoo to make sure no one else had heard him, you take note that at least no one was in ear range when you let out a nervous laugh. 

“I–is that appropriate? I mean…fuc–” Swallowing hard, you take a break to recenter yourself before meeting Wonwoo’s eyes to find him grinning at you. “You are my boss…” 

Wonwoo knew who he was and who you were. He already knew there were rumors about him dating you swirling around the office, so it wouldn’t be like he was doing something to shock anyone and there were no rules that said he couldn’t. 

“I don’t find it inappropriate. I mean, if you do, we can forget that I asked. I just didn’t want to miss out on this brief moment of bravery that I had and not ask you out.” 

His words cause your head to spin. He had to work up the courage to ask you out. Him? Be brave enough to ask you? In what world did any of that make sense? Smiling, you bite at your bottom lip as you fiddle with a few papers on your desk out of nerves before daring to look at Wonwoo again and shrugging. 

“I don’t really want to forget that you asked.” 

A small laugh escapes Wonwoo’s lips at your words. What did that mean? Did that mean yes? You’d go? Stepping towards your desk, Wonwoo watches you take in a breath. He finds himself wondering, if he touched your cheek, if it would be warm with how you were acting. 

“Does that mean you’ll go out with me?” 

When you nod, Wonwoo grins and looks down, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose and clearing his throat. He needed to keep his cool. It was just dinner and drinks. It wasn’t like he had asked you to marry him and you had said yes or something. He wasn’t some high schooler asking a girl to the prom. He was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company asking his incredibly attractive assistant out on a date, and she had said yes. 

“Great. I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N. Have a good evening.” 

You whisper out the same to Wonwoo, watching him jog down the steps before he gets to the door, leaving enough space between him and you that you feel like you can let out the breath you had been holding. It comes out with a small squeal as you lean forward on your desk, a smile on your lips, finding everything that had just happened to be unbelievable. 

Pulling into the parking lot next to the matte black Lamborghini, Wonwoo shakes his head at how ostentatious the car seems. Putting his own car into park, he sighs, hitting the lock button on his keyfob, noting that he didn’t have much he could really say. His own Mercedes wasn’t that much better, but at least he wasn’t driving a Lambo.  

When he had been in university, he and Mingyu had swore to one another that they would make it. At the time, they weren’t even sure what that meant. Earning business degrees and keeping their heads down for a few years had been the first step, but quickly they had both learned the ropes and now they were two of the most influential people in the business world. 

What had started as a pipe dream of two sleep deprived broke university students became a hard earned reality. Each was now the CEO of their own company, in charge of dozens of employees, and making 7 figure salaries a year. 

Wonwoo kept himself a bit more grounded than Mingyu, but he couldn’t blame the younger man for enjoying his wealth just a little here and there with things that he loved, like cars. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s money was invested and while his car was nice, his true wealth could be seen in his choice of house and accessories. 

Walking into the restaurant, Wonwoo glances at the Roger Dubuis watch on his wrist, pursing his lips. He wasn’t late but he hated leaving the office, but mostly you, as the phones were persistent today. You had told him to go enjoy his lunch, despite him offering to take you along. 

“Mr. Kim said this was a leisure lunch, Mr. Jeon. You don’t need your assistant for that.” 

He wanted to punch Mingyu for telling you that. Couldn’t he play it off as a business lunch? He was the one who wanted him to ask you out in the first place. Sighing, Wonwoo simply offers a nod to the hostess, who directs him to Mingyu, already seated at their usual table. 

“You could at least look happy to see me…” 

Mingyu smirks as Wonwoo sits down across from him. Their chosen restaurant was familiar; not only did they visit often but being friends with the owner had it’s perks. 

“Just been a long morning. I am happy to see you. Has Junhui been out to the table yet?” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu shifts in his chair, studying Wonwoo. Something was on his mind and he wasn’t as open as some of their other friends when it came to sharing their feelings. 

“No, apparently he’s already making our food. We don’t get to pick.” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo scoots the useless menu away from him before leaning to pick up the glass of water meant for him and taking a long sip. 

“Sounds like Junhui. Whatever he serves us will be delicious anyway.” Clearing his throat, Wonwoo swipes his finger across a bead of condensation on his glass, looking down at it as he speaks. “Y/N told me this was a leisure lunch. You have something on your mind you want to talk about?” 

There it was. Mingyu knew Wonwoo would get around to the reason he looked like there was a stick up his ass eventually, and this time he didn’t even have to try. Pursing his lips, Mingyu tilts his head, scooting one of his legs out under the table as he sighs. In truth, there hadn’t been a reason for the lunch. He had just missed his friend and tried to make it a weekly occasion to meet for a meal but Wonwoo made it harder and harder every week. 

“Do I need to have something on my mind? Do you have something on yours?” Offering Wonwoo a smile when he receives a dirty look in return, Mingyu can’t help the chuckle that follows. “We should see if Junhui can whip something up for Y/N that you can take back to the office for her.” 

That wasn’t a horrible idea but Wonwoo’s only reaction is to lift his brows and sit down the glass of water in his hand. He hadn’t told Mingyu that he had asked you out yet. The silence becoming deafening Wonwoo is pleased to hear the familiar voice of Junhui drawing his and Mingyu’s attention. 

“The coconut chicken for Wonwoo and the huang men ji for Mingyu.” 

Food sat in front of him. Wonwoo grins at the bowl of food. It was simple but it smelled like comfort. Mingyu laughs while standing up to hug the man they had both known for the better part of a decade before Wonwoo does the same. 

“You didn’t come by last week. I thought you didn’t like my food anymore.” 

Wonwoo feels an instant pang of guilt at Junhui’s words. He knew it was his fault that he and Mingyu hadn’t come by. He had cancelled their lunch at the last minute because of business but Mingyu is quick to cover for him like always. 

“You know that’s not true. Just some work bullshit got in the way. He’d live out of this place if he could. Wonwoo would sit in your kitchen and let you make him ramyeon or sweet and spicy chicken.” 

Seeing Junhui smile the way he did after Mingyu spoke was truly a gift. Mingyu was always good at making people happy and being genuine. He was a bit of an ass sometimes but at the root of it all, he was a good person. 

“Well, I just hope you enjoy lunch today. I’d stay and chat more but you know how hectic lunch can be. Let one of the servers know if you need anything." 

Taking a breath into his words, Wonwoo stumbles on the first before finally meeting Junhui’s eyes, making the man stop in his tracks. 

“Actu–actually…Could you, you know, if you aren’t incredibly busy, make something for my assistant? I want to take her some lunch back to the office.”

Mingyu grins, looking down at his food, at how Wonwoo stumbles over his words and at how he has taken his advice. Maybe that wasn’t the only time he had taken it?

Junhui simply smiles and furrows his brows, trying to remember your name, before nodding. “For Y/N, right? No problem. I’ll have it ready before you all finish.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo looks down at his food, unwilling to meet Junhui’s or Mingyu’s eyes just yet. It isn’t until Mingyu clears his throat, shirting in his chair to pick up his chopsticks and then a piece of chicken that Wonwoo looks up, meeting his eyes. 

“Don’t say it.” 

Mingyu smirks, the chicken almost against his lips, before he shakes his head, pausing to speak before taking the first bite. 

“I didn’t say a thing.” 

Wonwoo groans, picking up his chopsticks and a piece of his chicken and eating it with more force than necessary. Mingyu didn’t have to say anything; he was saying it all with a look on his face. 

“The chicken isn’t going to fight back, Wonwoo. Why are you so defensive when Y/N is mentioned? By the way, you brought her up with time. I was going to wait until at least dessert.” 

He knew he was being ridiculous about you. He was almost 30 years old. There was no reason for Wonwoo to be acting like some teenager afraid of a crush but you made him feel that way. Especially when he considered everything about your life and how he wanted to make it better for you and Jacob. He had never even considered children until you showed up and started working for him. 

“I–I don’t know. She makes me nervous.” 

That much Mingyu knew. Everyone in a ten mile radius could see that. Taking another bite of his food, Mingyu licks his lips and lets out a breath, appreciating the taste before wiping his mouth with his napkin. 

“It’s not like she knows you like her. You won’t even ask her –” 

“I did ask her out.” 

The surprise is evident on Mingyu’s face as Wonwoo confesses to asking you out on a date. He is proud and impressed but also a sinking feeling of nervousness takes over him as he tries to read Wonwoo’s face before finally just biting the bullet and asking the question he needed the answer to. 

“And? What did she say?” 

Wonwoo tries to hide his smile but it only ends up making it harder to keep his lips from turning up at the corners. Glancing down at his food, he licks his lips and shrugs before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, narrowing his own as if the words might backfire on him. 

“She said yes.” 

Tossing his chopsticks to the table, Mingyu reaches over to smack Wonwoo’s arm harder than necessary, causing the slightly smaller man to grimace at the shock of the hit. 

“Fuck yeah, man. I knew she would. I mean, why wouldn’t she? What’s the plan?” Rambling, Mingyu suddenly thinks of your son and his eyes widen, cutting Wonwoo off before he can answer, “What about the kid? You aren’t taking him on the first date, right? Surely someone can keep him?” 

“Can I speak now?” Getting a nod from Mingyu, Wonwoo watches him pick up his chopsticks, going back to his food as he grins at the younger man fondly. Mingyu was always excitable, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but indulge him. 

“I haven’t decided on a place to have dinner yet but I have some options. I’m surprised she said yes. She was concerned because I’m her employer.” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo furrows his brows before shrugging and pushing around his rice. “She said Jacob will be with his dad this weekend so Saturday is a good time.” 

Sitting up straight like a puppy that had heard a new word, Mingyu tilts his head and blinks a few times at Wonwoo. That was the first time he had heard anything about your ex. I mean, it made sense. It took two to make a kid but he had just assumed the guy was completely out of the picture. 

“Dad? Do we have a name? How close are they?” 

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo picks up a bite of his food, chewing it before even trying to answer Mingyu. He knew what he was trying to do and while he appreciated it. He didn’t need Seungcheol to do a background check on your ex. 

“Yes, Jacob’s father. I don’t know his name; I didn’t ask and she didn’t offer it. I have no idea how close they are but they share a child, Mingyu.” Sighing, Wonwoo meets Mingyu’s eyes, seeing the incredulous look in them, before adding, “But they are also not together so I can assume they are not terribly close.” 

Mingyu wasn’t thrilled with Wonwoo’s answer but he figured that if his friend changed his mind, he could do some digging in the meantime. He did have a point, if there was a good relationship there, you and your ex would be raising Jacob together in the same home. 

“Fine, I won’t call Cheol…yet. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo picks up another bite of food, sighing heavily before laughing humorlessly into his words. 

“I can promise you, I will not change my mind.” 

The rest of lunch was as normal as possible. Beyond Mingyu offering date options and letting Wonwoo borrow his car for the date, it was back to their normal topics of conversation before Junhui joined them for the last part of the meal. Desserts were served and a takeaway container sat beside Wonwoo. Junhui grinned at Wonwoo suspiciously before Mingyu filled him in on the “good news” about the upcoming date. 

“I’m happy for you, Wonwoo. You need to date more often. It’s been months since you’ve even tried. All I’ve even heard about is Y/N since she started working for you and no one comes close to your standard of Y/N.” 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Wonwoo could only smile sheepishly. Junhui wasn’t wrong. You were not someone that most people could dream of living up to and no other woman came close. 

“I..I just want to see where it goes. I’m not going to force it. I know she will have Jacob on her mind.”

Junhui nods, his fingers running over the tablecloth under them as he listens to his friend talk. He could tell how important this was to Wonwoo and he wanted it to work for his sake. 

“Then just tell her how you feel and what you want. It seems to work out in books and movies.” 

Laughing, Mingyu just shrugs when Junhui shoots him a look. It wasn’t that he was wrong but it was the fact that he was sourcing books and movies as his knowledge bank. Wonwoo just smiles fondly at his friend and nods before leaning back to sigh into a groan. He needed to go back to work now. He wanted to see you and give you lunch but already the butterflies were fighting for space in his stomach. 

“Thanks, both of you, and Junhui, for the food. Ours and Y/N’s.” 

Mingyu echoes Wonwoo’s words before hugs are exchanged, along with more well wishes. Wonwoo finds himself wondering when they had gotten to the age where this was the topic of lunch conversation and not the next kegger. Either way, he didn’t mind as he held your food in his hands, heading for his car, willing the butterflies to calm down. 

Watching Wonwoo as he raised the spoon of cereal to his mouth, Mingyu smirked and shook his head. It was the fourth jacket his friend had put on and taken off before even waiting for his opinion. That had been his entire purpose for being here—well, and to raid Wonwoo’s pantry but mostly emotional support. 

Wonwoo had been stressed out over this date the entire week. You had noticed his being a bit more awkward than normal, including offering you the food after his lunch with Mingyu by clearing his throat and all but dropping the box into your hands. 

He wasn’t trying to make this harder than it needed to be but you were important. No other woman had made him feel like this. It wasn’t the fact that you had a kid; that didn’t even phase Wonwoo, even though he had many other friends who thought it was a red flag or a reason not to pursue you, no matter how attractive you were. He had quickly shut them down, reminding them to mind their business. 

“I–fuck. What about this one?” 

Mingyu wipes his lips with his thumb tilting his head, his eyes narrowing at the mirror in front of Wonwoo. The jacket looked suspiciously like one he had put on three jackets before and he remembered telling him it looked sharp. 

“Isn’t that the same one as before? Look at the tag. Did you buy out Dior? Do you own the entire collection in that pattern?” 

Scoffing, Wonwoo pulls on the lapels of the jacket before reaching up to adjust his glasses and sweep the curls of his brown hair from his forehead before he mutters under his breath. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Smiling, Mingyu shrugs, sitting the bowl aside so he can stand up and move towards Wonwoo, smacking his shoulder and sending the man forward a step. 

“I’m trying to get you to lighten up, man. You look good. You look classy. I know you wanna impress her but I don’t think you have to try so hard.” 

Wonwoo knew Mingyu was probably right but he didn’t want to ruin this and lose his chance with you. If he tried too hard, he might scare you off, but if he didn’t try hard enough, you might think he thought you were just every other woman. There was a fine line, and Wonwoo had to walk it like a tightline. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Swiping his phone from his dresser, Wonwoo checks his email, confirming his reservations and making Mingyu laugh once again. Hissing out an annoyed sound, Wonwoo pushes back his elbow into his friend’s ribs, hearing the taller man grunt before taking a step back and putting up his hands in submission. “I get that I don’t have to try so hard but I’m going to. She…deserves it.” 

The last of Wonwoo’s words are quieter, as if he says them too loudly, it might give too much away. He worked with you almost every single day and yet he hated having to say goodbye to you when 5 o’clock rolled around. Wonwoo felt like there was something else on the tip of his tongue as he watched you smile up at him and finish the last of your tasks as he glanced back at you, his briefcase in hand. 

Pursing his lips at Wonwoo’s words, Mingyu crosses his arms and studies the man. He was whipped and there was no other way of putting it. He had known he was falling for you about two weeks after Wonwoo hired you. He had listened to call after call about the wonderful new assistant that Wonwoo had found and how it all just seemed to work. Mingyu remembered thinking even then that that wasn’t how you spoke about your employees, no matter how wonderful they were. That was how you spoke about someone you were falling in love with. 

“Hey, I’m not saying shit, man. I support you, and I support this. You are as happy as I have seen you in a long time.” 

Taking a breath, Wonwoo slips his phone into his pocket and shakes his head at Mingyu’s words. He didn’t disagree with them per se; he just didn’t know how to feel about them or even what to say in response to them. Mingyu wasn’t wrong. He was happy and he was excited. For once, he felt like there was possibility. 

Smoothing your dress down at your sides, you slide into the chair at your vanity, already feeling your leg bouncing under the table. You could hear Jacob just behind you talking to his toy about his juice but your mind was still a blur. You couldn’t help but glance away at your own reflection in the mirror. 

This was the first time you had dressed up like this besides work dinners and even then, you didn’t dare try to be anything anyone would consider sexy or bordering on it. You were a mom. That was your first job—the most important job. 

“Momma, ‘ook!” 

Drawing your attention from your thoughts, Jacob’s excited words cause you to turn in your chair to look at him as he picks up the car in front of him, making something that sounds between a roar and an exhaust. 

“Wow, you are so cool. What is that, baby?” 

Looking down at his toy, Jacob giggles, pushing the wheels with his fingers, before smiling at you with a smile that melts your heart. 

“Car!” 

Nodding, you can’t help but laugh and clap, encouraging him before Jacob keeps repeating the word over and over again to show you he knew it for sure. You knew he was smart but speech had been a bit difficult for him in the beginning. You had a hard time not blaming yourself or the situation; stress, change—kids were so resilient and yet fragile. So when he started to pick up more and more words—full sentences—no matter how broken they were, you couldn’t help but feel your heart get fuller with pride. 

Watching Jacob for a moment longer, you rest your chin on your arm before letting out a soft, slow breath. You were excited and nervous for your date with Wonwoo but you always dreaded anything new. Just like you always dreaded any time you had apart from Jacob, you knew it was something you needed to get used to and it wasn’t like you didn’t want his dad to have a relationship with him. You were just attached. It was hard not to be when he was the most important person in your life. 

Finally, turning back to the mirror, you get the courage to look into it, meeting your own reflection. You could tell you were tired. You knew you needed the break. Working a full time job and taking care of a toddler wasn’t easy. Reaching for your concealer, you dab a bit under your eyes, pursing your lips as you use a brush to blend it in with the rest of your makeup. You couldn’t get more sleep but at least you could attempt to hide how much sleep you hadn’t had. 

When the doorbell rang, Jacob squealed in excitement. Not even knowing who was at the door, your son was always excited to see anyway. You knew you needed to teach him more about stranger danger but there was something beautiful and whimsical about seeing a child so eager and loving to meet someone. 

His little feet hitting the carpet and then hardwood, Jacob calls for you as he reaches the door, only to smack at it, trying to figure out how to open it when he hears the voice on the other side. 

“Is that my buddy?” 

“Dadda! Dadda! Momma, dadda’s here!” 

You had been trying to watch the time but 4 o’clock had snuck up on you. Biting your lip, you struggle with your bracelet, hurrying towards the door to unlock it and usher Jacob back all while trying not to drop the delicate gold chain around your arm as your ex-husband moves into the house. 

Flinging his arms around his dad’s legs, Jacob giggles as he feels his fingers brush over his head. Your ex, Daniel, grins, muttering another hi to his son before finally giving you an appraising look and letting out a low whistle. 

Rolling your eyes, you feel your cheeks warm at his attention. There were no longer romantic feelings between the two of you but you were both lucky that a friendship had remained. It had been easier than anticipated after the divorce to be close for Jacob’s sake and to actually be there for one another when each of you needed it. 

Daniel laughs at your reaction, watching your fingers struggle with the bracelet before he reaches out to help with the tiny clasp, earning himself a small thank you. Shrugging, the man simply offers you another smile before leaning down to pick up Jacob with a groan, pretending that he hurt his back. 

“Don’t mention it. You, however, can. Are you eating all the vegetables? You are twice as big as last week!” 

Smiling fondly, you watch Jacob giggle as his dad kisses his cheeks, your son holding on to the man like an anchor. Stepping to the side, you allow him to move further into the house with Jacob as the boy babbles about his car, making your ex glance at you, noting the new word as you just smile and nod. 

“Car huh? Dadda has a cool car, you know. Momma doesn’t let me bring it to pick you up but I’ll show you when we get home. It’s not as cool as yours but it’s close.”

You roll your eyes again, letting out a scoff that cues Daniel to smirk at you. His eyes once again move over you before he lifts his brow, letting Jacob down to play as he watches you gather the last of his things, putting them into his bag. 

“It is a nice car. You used to like it when we’d go out on the town. Speaking of –” 

Looking up quickly, you watch Daniel lift his hands at the look on your face. Another laugh slips from his lips before you zip Jacob’s bag, offering it to him. 

“Your car is dumb, just like you. I–yes I’m going out. Do I look…you know?” 

Narrowing his eyes playfully at the comment about his car being dumb, Daniel lets it go instead, choosing to focus on what you had said next. Shaking his head, he takes a step back, giving you another once over before letting out a breath. He might be your ex-husband and your friend but he had eyes and there were very good reasons he had been attracted to you in the first place, besides your amazing wit. 

“You look hot. You said “going out?” Out as in…” 

Groaning, you narrow your eyes at the man as he smirks at you. He was worse than your girlfriends when it came to things like this. He was worse than your mother and that was saying something. You knew things with Daniel were good and that what had been there had ended long before the divorce had even been finalized, but there were times like this when you started to talk to him about a man you were going to go on a date with that you felt like you were talking to your husband again. 

“Just…out. With someone, a friend.” 

Not believing you, Daniel glances towards Jacob as he pretends to run the car over the couch cushion, making the same car noise he had for you. The sound brings a smile to his lips but it’s short lived as the attention is brought back to you. He wanted you to be happy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dated or wasn’t currently dating. You should do the same, even if you have primary custody of Jacob. 

“A friend? A man? Y/N? Are you going on a date? Why are you so afraid to tell me?” Scoffing softly, Daniel leans against the kitchen counter next to him, studying you as you look down almost in shame before he reaches up to hold your shoulder as he talks. “Why in the hell would I be mad that you are trying to be happy? I’m not an asshole." 

Fighting the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes, you shrug as Daniel leans down ever so slightly to meet your eyes fully. His smile is genuine as he watches you try to keep your composure. 

“Y/N, we have a cool ass kid. We didn’t work married but we work as friends. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t find a man who will love you like you deserve.” 

Closing your eyes, you laugh but the tears fall to your cheeks, causing Daniel to sigh apologetically. He reached up with his thumbs to delicately push them off your face, knowing that you had probably worked hard on your make up. 

“Don’t cry; I didn’t mean to do that.” 

“Momma cry! Don’t be sad, momma. I’m ‘ere. I love you.” 

Feeling Jacob trying to climb your legs causes your heart to tighten in your chest. Daniel laughs a bit, trying to calm him down, trying to tell him you are okay. Your son doesn’t listen, too concerned about you, until you reach down to pick him up, letting the little boy look at your face. His small hand moves over your face with less care than his father as he tries to help with your tears, before he leans in to kiss the corner of your lips and cheek. 

“You love a lot of people, Y/N. You teach him to love people fiercely so he loves you just as hard.” 

Daniel’s words make you smile as you lean your forehead to rest it against Jacob’s, whispering that you love him and that you are okay. Your son smiles, running his fingers over your cheek again, checking for more tears. He's happy when he can’t find any more. 

“Momma’s okay, bud. She’s gonna have a good night with a friend. Me and you are gonna stay up late and eat pancakes.” 

Jacob gasps at hearing his dad’s words, glancing back at him and babbling about pancakes, making you laugh, and letting him wiggle his way over to his arms. 

“Thanks, Daniel.” 

Shrugging, you watch him lean his head against Jacob’s, his eyes mirroring your sons and making your heart warm. 

“No problem. Text me later and let me know how the date goes. I’ll send you pictures of him later but I won’t bother you too much. Don’t wanna interrupt. I want you to have fun and actually enjoy a night out.” 

Agreeing to the text and promising to at least try to relax, you walk your ex-husband and son to the door, kissing Jacob’s forehead once more before watching the two of them leave, knowing it was going to be a long couple of days before he would be back with you. 

Checking his watch at 6:45, Wonwoo looks at the outside of your house before pulling into the driveway. He knew he was a little early but he had a habit of it. You couldn’t be late if you were early. It has always worked for him thus far. 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo straightens his chosen jacket of the night and takes the first step towards your front door. It wasn’t that long of a driveway but by the time he made it there, he felt like he had been walking for an hour, despite checking his watch to see that it was now only 6:47. He was letting his nerves get the best of him. 

Wonwoo could hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in his head even as he lifted his hand to the doorbell and waited for you, wondering if you would change your mind. Stay calm, man. Don’t try too hard. You look like you have a stick up your ass. Wonwoo did not, in fact, have a stick up his ass. He was just nervous. So fucking nervous. 

You had heard the vehicle pull into the driveway so you couldn’t really explain the dread that was in your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew it was Wonwoo and you were excited, but you were also terrified. You had spent an hour cleaning up everything he could possibly see from at least the front door and even if he were to come into the kitchen, but as you walked towards the door you let out a squeal when you see another toy, picking it up and putting it behind your back before pulling the door open. 

He smiled, his brows furrowing at the sound he had heard behind your closed door. Wonwoo can’t help but tilt his head in concern before he finally gets a good look at you and loses his resolve. You were stunning. He had seen you in business professional clothes and even a nicer dress for a work dinner but this... you looked amazing. 

“I–wow. Hey.” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you feel a bit confused as you hold the small toy behind your back, balancing your toes on the hardwood next to your other foot as you look at Wonwoo in your doorway. He looked amazing. He always did. He looked expensive, but you knew that he was. You weren’t a complete idiot. That was another reason that this was all making you so nervous. Your life was nothing compared to his. 

“Hi, I mean…  hello, Mr. Je–” 

“Oh…no please. Don’t call me that tonight. I told you at work, just Wonwoo. It would be so strange to hear you call me that on a date.” 

A date. Yeah, you were going on a date with your boss. Fuck, your stomach was churning. Swallowing hard, you offer Wonwoo a smile before looking down and stepping to the side to let him step in. The air was crisp and your heat was already kicking on. 

“Come in…  I need to get my jacket and, uh, shoes.” 

Smiling as he steps inside, Wonwoo glances around, thinking that your house was perfectly you but it lacked all the things that he had expected when it came to Jacob. He had expected toys to be lying around and perhaps shoes in the entryway. Things he had seen in his own childhood home growing up but it appeared you either kept an incredibly kept house, or you had cleaned up prior to his arrival. 

“I know I’m a bit early. Kinda sad I won’t see Jacob today.” 

Watching you back away from him, Wonwoo watches your hand slide from behind you to in front, making him grin when he sees the toy in it that you had been trying to hide from him. So you had just cleaned, and that made him feel a bit better. 

Nodding along with his words, you toss the toy into a basket before moving to slide your feet into your heels as Wonwoo watches you. His eyes are moving along your frame with interest before he stops at your face, listening to every word you have to say. 

“I’m sure he will stumble back into your life unceremoniously in the near future because my life is a mess. Uh, but his dad came and got him a few hours ago.” 

Wonwoo chuckles at your wording but he can’t help but enjoy the idea of Jacob and you both stumbling into his life. He didn’t mind it and he didn’t feel that he ever would. Glancing at the jacket on a hook near him as you start towards it. Wonwoo makes a sound, drawing your attention to him before he takes your jacket down and holds it open for you, surprising you. 

Carefully sliding your arms into your jacket, you step backwards, careful not to get too close to Wonwoo but no matter how much you try not to, you can still feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he situates the jacket on your shoulders. 

“Thanks…” 

With a small smile on his lips, Wonwoo takes a step back, letting you grab your purse and offering you a nod in response. To him, it hadn’t been anything special, just something he wanted to do, but to you, it had been the beginning of something special. 

“No problem. I have reservations for us at 8 o'clock; it’s a bit of a drive so I hope you won’t mind.” 

Wonwoo watches as you shake your head. You seemed shy and sweet. Not that you didn’t give off a similar vibe most days but today it was different. You were reserved and Wonwoo knew that it might take just a little bit of time and some conversation to get you past what you were holding on to about him being your boss. 

Walking you to his car, Wonwoo surprises you once again by joining you at the passenger's side door and pulling it open for you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had men do chivalrous things for you in the past. It wasn’t even that Daniel hadn’t done similar things for you; it was the fact that it was Wonwoo. It was the fact that he was one of Forbes 30 under 30 and he was treating you like the most important person in the world at the moment. 

Sliding into the Mercedes, you let your fingers glide over the leather seat, enjoying the soft feeling before you reach for the seatbelt as Wonwoo closes the door and makes his way around to get in beside you. He was already enjoying having this extra time with you. Neither of you needed to say a thing but one look in your direction granted him a sweet smile that melted Wonwoo’s heart. 

He could see you glancing around the car as he drove. Your fingers are moving nervously in your lap on top of your purse. You were possibly more nervous than he was and that was saying something. Reaching out towards the radio, Wonwoo turns it on, letting it play quietly so perhaps that will help you feel less awkward before he lets out a sigh, smiling over at you. 

“You look beautiful tonight, Y/N. I’m really happy you accepted my invitation.” 

Your face was hot again. All you could do was look down and grin like an idiot at Wonwoo’s compliment. Lifting your hand, you swipe away a loose bit of hair from your cheek before glancing back over at him, whispering a thank you and clearing your throat to regain your composure. 

“Th-thank you. I was, well, you know, surprised you even asked me. Beyond the facts that I brought up at work...  I just assumed you would be seeing someone.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo tightens his grip on the steering wheel with his left hand, his right resting on the gearshift as he leans his head back against the headrest. 

“Like who?” 

You can’t help but let out an amused scoff at Wonwoo’s question. He actually sounded intrigued or maybe even confused, by your assumption. You could think of plenty of people better than you for him. 

“Well, any model you wanted for one. I believe Mr. Kim had one on his arm at the last dinner…” 

Trailing off, you look out the passenger’s side window as Wonwoo looks at you. He wasn’t Mingyu and he didn’t want a model; he wanted you. He wasn’t even sure Mingyu wanted a model; that date was for the press, but that was a fact that even you didn’t seem to pick up on. 

“He barely knew how to say her name and she spoke maybe three times to him that night. It was a publicity arrangement. I turn them down frequently because I am not interested in helping to boost anyone’s image, especially when I have someone I’m already interested in.”

Pressing your lips together, you can’t even dare yourself to look over at Wonwoo after hearing his words. He was interested in someone. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play that card. He wouldn’t have said those words with you in the car if he hadn’t been talking about you. It was making you feel short of breath and your heart was beating like a drum in your chest. 

“Mingyu does it because he likes the playboy persona, even if its a lie. It looks good on paper and it’s fun for him. But, Y/N…please look at me." 

There is a slight whine in Wonwoo’s voice as he asks you to look at him. He knew you could hear him but he wanted to make sure you understood what he was going to say next. He knew that his lifestyle was different from yours in many ways but not as different as you might want to believe. 

Finally turning your gaze to his as Wonwoo slows down to a stop at a red light, you press your lips together, drawing his attention to them for a brief moment before he looks back into your eyes. He was entranced by you; he wanted nothing more than to see you happy and for this date to go well and so far he was afraid it was off to a rocky start because of your assumptions. 

“But I am not Mingyu and I am not a rich playboy. I’m just... me, and I like you.” 

Your lips parted slightly with a tiny breath and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to act on how he’s feeling. You look kissable. Your lips parted just slightly, a rosy color making them already look bitten but a honk from behind him made him smile and he pressed down on the gas, putting the car back in motion. 

“I didn’t mean to sound like I was accusing you of something, Wonwoo. It is very clear you aren't. You know a play–” You stop and laugh to yourself, not sure what you were even saying. Wonwoo made you so nervous. You hear him laugh, your eyes moving over his handsome face as his cheeks become fuller, his eyes almost catlike, letting you know the laugh is real. “I’m serious. I know you are a good person. I’m just not in your circle.” 

Wonwoo’s laugh and smile fade with your words. It wasn’t that he hated being wealthy or successful. That had been the plan, and he had worked hard for it. It was the fact that you felt less and unworthy of him because of his wealth and success when, in his eyes, you were far more wealthy. 

“You are. I don’t even know what that means. Do you mean part of my friend group? You can meet them if you want. You already know Mingyu.” 

Sighing, you smile and lean your head back against your headrest, looking over Wonwoo’s handsome face. He was perfect in every single way that you could think of. He was every girl’s dream and you couldn’t think of a single reason not to want this, yet every single alarm was going off in your head. 

“I do know Mr. Kim, but as kind as he is do you think the rest of your friends would be as enthused by meeting me? Your assistant, who is a single mother to a three year old?” 

His brows furrowing, Wonwoo grips the steering wheel tighter once again. He remembers a couple of his friends bringing up your occupation and a few others bringing up your status as a single mother. He didn’t care what those friends thought because the ones who really cared about him supported him and encouraged him, just like Mingyu had. 

“Y/N…” Wonwoo sighs out your name, glancing down at your hands, before looking back out at the road in front of him. He wished he was close enough to you to take your hand, to glide his thumb along yours and to explain this while having that contact with you. “You’ll meet them one day and they will fall in love with you so easily. It’s impossible not to.” 

The silence in the car was deafening. You didn’t know if he had meant those words the way they had come across but even Wonwoo seemed to realize what he had said as he tugged on the turtleneck that now seemed to be suffocating him as he drove. 

Smiling, you look out the window, opting to hum along with the radio for a moment before finally putting Wonwoo out of his misery by glancing over at him. It was clear he was stressed; this conversation wasn’t going exactly as planned but in truth, he wasn’t sure how he had planned it. 

“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult, Wonwoo. I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just…nervous.” You look down and away from Wonwoo as he glances from the road to you, listening to you speak. “I haven’t really dated much since I got divorced. It’s not exactly a conversation starter.” 

Divorced. Right. Wonwoo nods and licks his lips. Your ex was your ex-husband. Why hadn’t that dawned on him before? It didn’t change anything; it just meant he needed to figure out more about you and your life. 

“How long were you married?” 

You laugh, surprised that Wonwoo was going to literally use what you had said as a conversation starter. He was different, that was certain. Shrugging, you decided to just lay out all of your cards. The worst that could happen was losing your job and the date going poorly, so what else could go wrong?

“Four years. We got divorced about a year and a half ago.” Glancing at your phone, you look at the date and count in your head before nodding. “Two weeks ago.” 

Wonwoo does math in his head and lets out a breath with a long sigh. That was a longer time than he had anticipated and yet it was a short amount of time when you considered what he wanted from a marriage. 

“What is his name?” 

Picking at a string on your purse, you run your tongue along your lips, considering Wonwoo’s question before just answering it. 

“Kang Daniel, and he is Jacob’s father.” 

Grimacing at how you had answered his question, Wonwoo glances over at you and tilts his head. 

“I figured he was, Y/N. If you don’t want to talk about—" 

“It’s fine…  I’ve just had men assumed that perhaps that was why Daniel and I weren’t together anymore. I cheated and had Jacob. It’s not; we were happy with Jacob. We just weren’t happy together.” 

Wonwoo hated that people treated you that way; the thought had never even crossed his mind. He never assumed the separation had ever been your fault. He knew there were a million reasons marriages failed and for a great many of them, neither party was at fault. 

“I would never assume something about you. I would rather learn about you. You are a great mother." 

Smiling softly, you nod, the string between your fingers like a safety net as you whisper out your words just loudly enough for Wonwoo to hear. 

“Thank you. I try.” 

“It shows. Jacob is a great kid. You can tell he has a really good life.” 

You worked hard to make sure he did and you knew that Daniel tried to do the same. His life was different from yours and that had been part of the problem with your marriage. He was always gone, and when he was there, he was still gone in his head until it came to Jacob. 

“I do my best and I know Daniel does too. I have primary custody of Jacob. It’s just easier. I'm more stable.” You knew that Wonwoo didn’t ask for the details but he did say he wanted to learn. This was the most important part of your life, your son. If anything, he needed to learn about it. "Daniel travels for work often but sees Jacob once a week for two days. I’ll get him back Monday morning before work. It’s the hardest two days of my life, every single week.” 

Wonwoo watches your finger wrap a loose string around it and he wants to grab your hand again and offer you comfort. While its clear there is no animosity between you and your ex, your love for your son is even more evident. 

“I’m sure he misses you too.” 

You laugh and shrug, reaching into your purse to take out your phone to show Wonwoo the picture that Daniel had sent you of Jacob. The small boy's face was covered in bits of syrup, and a destroyed pancake was in front of him. The next picture shows the man and your son, both leaning against an older model Mustang as Jacob holds up a toy car. 

“He’s having a great time with his dadda. He needs that time with him. I’d never take that time away from him.” 

Smiling at the pictures, Wonwoo then smiles at you, in awe of you. It would be so easy to be the type of person to want to keep Jacob all to themselves and instead you wanted him to love and be loved. It said alot about you and who you were and it made him want you even more. 

Turning into the parking lot of a smaller restaurant, Wonwoo watches you perk up out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into a reserved space turning his car off. You look around curiously before finally turning to him as clearly this wasn’t what you had expected. 

“Hm? I promise it doesn’t look like much but it’s the best money can buy. I wanted something special for you.” 

Holding up his hand, you smile at Wonwoo as he tells you to wait for him when you go to reach the door. Rolling your eyes, you turn to watch him jog around the car and make it over to you, opening the door and offering you his hand. He was ridiculous but you were starting to enjoy it. 

Wonwoo waits with his fingers extended, slightly trembling out of nerves, until you slide your hand into his and step out of his car next to him, looking up into his eyes with your bright, sweet smile. Wrapping his hand around your fingers, Wonwoo keeps his touch loose but dares to brush his along the back of your hand as he gestures with his right towards the walkway. 

“There isn’t even a sign for this place, Wonwoo…” 

A small grin plays on Wonwoo’s lips at your hushed words. He nods and leans towards you, causing you to take in a sharp breath when you feel the warmth of his breath against your ear as he speaks in hushed tones as he whispers like it’s a secret and dozens of people are listening. 

“I know, it’s invite only. Like I said, special.” Standing up straight, Wonwoo moves your hand to his arm, resting his right hand over it for a moment as he takes in a breath of the crisp air and walks you to the front of the building. “It’s called Éblouissante.” 

Running your fingers over his jacket, you feel goosebumps spread along your skin at how soft the fabric is under your touch. It was expensive; he was just expensive and here you were feeling like you were cheapening his brand. 

Meanwhile, Wonwoo was thinking the furthest thing from what was on your mind. He felt like the luckiest man in the world with you on his arm. You were beautiful and he didn’t care how much your clothes cost or how much you spent on your accessories. All Wonwoo cared about was you, and you were worth more to him than anything money could buy. 

Smiling at the hostess, Wonwoo offers her his phone, letting her check his reservation code before she grins widely, welcoming him in. Her gaze then falls to you and you are surprised when it doesn’t change from how she had been looking at Wonwoo. She gives you just as much respect before offering to take your jackets and leading you to your table, of which there were only ten in the entire restaurant. 

“Oh my god, this place is wild. I swear that Yoon Jeonghan was sitting across the room.” 

You shake your head as you speak, making Wonwoo tilt his head before he leans up, looking for the man and grinning. You watch him wave before you see; in fact, Yoon Jeonghan does the same back to him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me." 

“He’s not that important; he just thinks he is. His last movie sucked and he knows it.” 

Of course, he would know Yoon Jeonghan. Why wouldn’t Jeon Wonwoo know actors, multi-million dollar CEOs? Hell, he probably knew politicians by name as well. 

“I liked it…” 

Wonwoo grins at your words, crossing his leg over his knee as you look at your menu, noting the lack of prices attached to any of the listings. 

“You can let him know.” 

Jeonghan glances over your back before walking past you to lean down and hug Wonwoo with a chuckle. It had been too long since he had seen his friend. You watch, trying to keep your mouth closed, as two of the most handsome men you have ever met in your life talk as if they had known each other for the better part of their lives. Perhaps they had. 

“Fancy running into you here, Wonwoo. The last time I saw Gyu, he said you ditched because of work. Junhui was sad…tell me you’ve gone back to his place and eaten at least." 

Wonwoo sighs as Jeonghan reaches out to pat his cheek before laughing once again. Of course Mingyu had said something and of course he had missed someone else at that last lunch. 

“I have and in my defense, Mingyu didn’t tell me you were going to join us.” Glancing at you as you try not to intrude, instead you choose to look over the wine list, Wonwoo grins, letting out a soft breath and gesturing towards you. “Jeonghan, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” 

His eyes widening, Jeonghan mouths your first name towards Wonwoo, who gives him a look, only causing the actor to smirk. Turning his attention to you, Jeonghan gives you a dazzling smile, reaching his hand out for yours and saying your name sweetly. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. You are even more gorgeous than Wonwoo let on. My god…” 

With your fingers resting in his, you feel your face burning from Jeonghan’s words. You figured he would be a smooth talker given his career but then again, you had never dreamed in a million years that you would be talking to Jeonghan much less like this. 

“I–thank you? He’s spoken about me?” 

Jeonghan trails his thumb over your fingernails, assessing you as he nods, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on him, knowing he is annoying the man. He knew exactly what he was doing and he wanted to rile him up because he wanted that fire inside of his friend to flame hotter when it came to you. He was tired of watching his friend pine and pine and never go for the gold. 

"Oh, often, and always good things, scouts honor. I’m so happy to see him finally taking you out, like he’s been wanting to. He’d be an idiot not to. I mean, seriously, Y/N…you are stunning.” Grinning at how you shy away from compliments, Jeonghan glances towards Wonwoo, who purses his lips, glancing to where your fingers barely hang on to the other man’s.

Jeonghan laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles before letting you take your hand back completely. “If you aren’t 100% satisfied with your date, let me know. Think of me as quality assurance.” 

You scoff into a laugh at his blunt flirting in front of his friend as Wonwoo groans in annoyance. Jeonghan simply laughs, winking at you, before knocking his hip against Wonwoo’s arm as he grumbles about having his own date to get back to. 

“I do, and she’s a sweetheart but not really my type. However, she is my next co-star so I need to be nice and treat her to a meal. You two have the most wonderful evening, and remember what I said, Y/N.” 

Watching Jeonghan saunter away, you shake your head before looking back at Wonwoo, who pinches the bridge of his nose as if he’s getting a headache. You can’t help but pout towards him, feeling bad for your own actions. It wasn’t as if you had flirted back with his friend, but you hadn’t exactly told him to back off. 

“I–I’m sorry…” 

Glancing up at you, Wonwoo looks confused before he smiles at you, reaching out to take your fingers in his hand and shaking his head. 

“For what? Jeonghan? I should be sorry. I knew exactly how he’d act. He’s predictable. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and he got what he wanted. He made me jealous.” 

Wonwoo was jealous? Jealous of another man flirting with you? You can’t help but smile and bite at your bottom lip, looking down at your hand in Wonwoo’s grasp as he rubs your fingers before letting go of them in place of picking up his menu. 

“You don’t have to be jealous. I–well, I’m not interested in him. He’s handsome and funny but I don’t know him, and I don’t feel anything towards him.” 

A small smile threatens the corners of Wonwoo’s lips as he scans over the different wines. His eyes are glancing at you once again over his glasses, before he rubs his lips together and lifts his head to meet your eyes completely. 

“That is relieving. I’d hate to have to ruin his date.” 

Laughing softly, you shake your head at his dramatics before sighing towards your menu. You weren’t even sure what half of the words said. Making a face, you look back towards Wonwoo, whose eyes had never left you. It was clear you were struggling but he could only smile. 

“Could…okay. You seem to understand what this menu says. So could you pick something to drink and something to eat?” 

Nodding, Wonwoo uncrosses his legs in order to lean towards you, showing you his menu. 

“Have you eaten much today?” 

Shaking your head, you watch him furrow his brow out of concern before he simply nods and runs his finger over the menu, pointing out a few things. 

“We can stay simple. I don’t like this place because it is incredibly fancy, Y/N. I enjoy it because the food is out of this world. The wine is old and worth the price every time I take a sip. I wanted you to experience that.” 

Your cheeks once again flair up with warmth, a bit of tingling in your stomach as you simply nod and mutter an okay to his words as he walks you through his ideas for dinner. You were hungry and everything sounded amazing. 

“Have we made a decision on what we will be enjoying this evening?” 

The server's voice pulls you and Wonwoo out of your little bubble and causes Wonwoo to let out a soft sigh as he nods. 

“We have. Two glasses of Gevrey-Chambertin François Leclerc. We will share the half baguette while we wait for the rest of our food. For the lady, she will have the truffle and mushroom risotto, and I will have the Bouillabaisse.” 

You watch Wonwoo order with such ease, the words slipping off his tongue as if he had ordered food such as this a hundred times before, when you realize he probably has. The server smiles at the order and collects the menus, promising to be back as soon as possible. 

Wonwoo leans back in his chair, his eyes moving across your face and down to where your hands nervously mess with the end of your napkin, causing him to smile softly. You were anxious again. He was still trying to figure you out completely, and he had a feeling he would be doing that for a long time. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

Looking back up when he speaks, you smile, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Your fingers are still rubbing over the cloth napkin as you laugh softly and shake your head. You watch as he picks up his glass of water, taking a long sip and giving you time to collect your thoughts. He never rushed you; he just waited and listened. 

“Well, I’m thinking about a lot of things. About Jacob, about what he is doing and should be doing right now. It’s his bedtime but I doubt Daniel has put him down. He never does it on time.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo tilts his head a bit as you take in a breath and furrow your brows. You loved talking about Jacob; that was the easier point of conversation. Everything else was hard. 

"Uh, thinking about work. I’m thinking about how nice all of this is and how much it must cost.” Knowing you are starting to ramble, you laugh into your words, lifting your hand to brush your fingertips against your lips before finally giving in and being vulnerable. “I’m thinking about you and how much I am enjoying spending time with you and what that means.” 

Wonwoo had known there was something on your mind, perhaps a lot but hearing you say it out loud made him take a pause and take a deep breath. He understood your hesitation but all he ever wanted to do was put you at ease with all that he could. 

Leaning forward once again, Wonwoo rests his arm on the table as he looks at you in the candlelight. You were seamlessly beautiful without trying. Even though he knew you had tried tonight to hide the circles under your eyes, he could see them in the lighting and it didn’t matter. The thought makes Wonwoo smile, seeing you in what you were tonight or in just sweats on his couch, your hair messy, no makeup. 

“Let’s go one by one."

Watching you nod, Wonwoo sighs, only pausing long enough to watch the server drop off the wine and bread. He watches the man pour wine into your glass and then he nods at him and looks back at you, continuing. 

“You trust Daniel with Jacob so I’m sure he is just fine, but at any time you are with me, if you want to call and check on him, you are welcome to. I will never stop you from being a mother. That is the most important thing to you and therefore the most important thing to me, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you feel the tension in your chest lessen. One fear you always had with any man was that he would feel jealous of your relationship with your son or try to change it. So hearing Wonwoo on a first date put that fear to rest made you take a sigh of relief. 

Picking up his wine, Wonwoo gestures towards you, urging you to do the same before he places his glass against his lips, taking a small sip while watching you do the same. He wanted to make sure you approved of his choice. Wonwoo watches your brows furrow, then rise. You pull the glass from your lips and smile, causing Wonwoo to do the same. 

“Good? It’s smooth; in this one, I can taste the strawberries and liquorice. It’s nice.” 

You laugh softly, only nodding to agree as you take another sip and enjoy the feel of the wine on your tongue. Wonwoo grins, thinking to himself how much he enjoys watching you enjoy something. It was something he could get used to. Picking up a piece of bread, Wonwoo puts a bit of butter on it, taking a bite of it with an approving sound before continuing what he had started. 

“Then you mentioned work.” He watches you nod as you reach for your own piece of the baguette to follow his lead. “There is nothing in the rules about my company that says anything about relationships in the company. I expect people to act like adults. That includes myself.” 

He wasn’t wrong; you had read your company policy book back to front after joining the company and recently, just to check on the rules about dating your boss, there had been nothing. Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you wipe your lips and take another sip of your wine before furrowing your brows and gesturing towards him. 

“People already talk about us, Wonwoo. Isn’t that going to be uncomfortable for you?”

“Is it uncomfortable for you?” 

With the question put back on you, Wonwoo watches as you take a breath, leaning back in your seat. 

“Slightly. I don’t want them to think that I slept my way into a position.” 

Smiling, Wonwoo attempts to keep the laugh from slipping between his lips but fails, causing you to gawk at him in disbelief. 

“I’m serious!” 

“So am I, Y/N. I couldn’t care less what they think about me. As long as they are happy in their position in my company, that is all that should matter to them. If they think so little of you, perhaps they aren’t happy in that position.” 

Your brows furrow once more at Wonwoo’s words and how much sense they make. You hadn’t considered that. It wasn’t as if you were making much more than anyone else on the second floor or the first for that matter. The salaries weren’t kept a secret, bonuses were given regularly, and promotions were announced publicly in the company. 

Gesturing to the wine and the table, Wonwoo shakes his head before looking back up at you with a small sigh. 

“As for this, how much does it cost? How much anything costs that I give you or treat you to doesn’t matter to me. I’m not saying that as a way of gloating.” He could already see the look in your eye and you weren’t impressed, but he wasn’t trying to impress you like that. “I’m simply saying that I am not concerned with how much dinner costs when time matters more to me. Enjoying delicious food and drinks long with it? That is just a bonus. We could do this in my living room, eating chips and drinking beer and I’d still be just as thrilled because I’m spending time with you.” 

You start to speak but Wonwoo holds up his finger, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to hear what you had to say in response but he wasn’t finished just yet. 

“Money isn’t everything, and I can tell it’s something that is weighing on your mind. I’m not trying to use it to impress you. I wasn’t always living the way I do now, Y/N. Sometimes, it’s even too much for me. But I won’t apologize for wanting to treat you to nice things.” 

The last of his words takes your breath away. You bite at your lips before lifting your wine to take a larger sip of it as the server approaches your table once again, sitting your meals in front of you with a quick bon appétit before leaving you both once again to enjoy your food. 

“Wonwoo…” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo smiles as you say his name, even though he can feel the apprehension behind it. You hadn’t meant to offend him or make him defend his success but that is what had happened in a way. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate this meal. I appreciate you wanting to treat me to nice things; I am just not used to it. It scares me a little.”��

That was understandable. Wonwoo could remember the first time money really started hitting his bank account and how terrifying it was to think it could all just vanish as quickly as it had appeared. He had been smart then and he was smart now. 

“I get that; I really do. I’ll do whatever I can to help you not be so scared. Try your risotto. It looks great.” 

Smiling, you let your shoulders relax when you realize he isn’t upset with you but instead he is still trying to make you feel okay about the situation. Dipping his spoon into his soup, Wonwoo watches you eat a bit of your food, your eyes closing as you take in the explosion of different flavors on your tongue. 

“Oh my god…” 

Wonwoo grins, eating a bit of the soup with a nod as you open your eyes to look at him as if he had given you the most special gift in the entire world with the first bite of food. Taking a second bite, you shake your head and allow Wonwoo to just enjoy you for a few moments before he sits back, sipping his wine, before swirling the red liquid in the glass, almost as if he’s lost in thought. 

“Before, the last thing you said that was on your mind was me. You said that you were thinking about me, how you are enjoying spending time with me, and what it means.” 

Clearing your throat, you reach for your water, taking a large drink of it before wiping your mouth clean with your napkin and nodding subtly to Wonwoo’s words. The man smiles, running his thumb along the bowl of his glass as he looks over your face before biting at his bottom lip and sighing. 

“What do you think it means, Y/N?” 

Why was he always turning this around on you? You could once again feel your face heating up. Now you were reaching for your wine as Wonwoo chuckled quietly, tipping his own wine back to his lips, savoring it on his tongue as you just let it hit your throat quickly. Only when it feels like the wine is down do you try to speak. 

“I’m not—I don’t know. I think it means that I like you. God, that sounds stupid, because I know I like you. I’ve liked you for... Jesus, ever.” You whine as you gesture towards Wonwoo, making him laugh nervously, his face heating up this time as well as his neck as he reaches up to pull at his turtleneck out of nerves. “How could anyone not? You are gorgeous and, well, you. You are so kind and treat Jacob so well. I couldn’t help but start to fall—I started to like you.” 

Glancing down, Wonwoo tries to play it cool and not smile like an idiot but fails. You were too cute, and the answer was too sweet. God, he liked you; he more than liked you. You were perfect. You watch Wonwoo’s nose scrunch in the most perfect way as he smiles and your heart melts as you feel yourself falling even harder for the man in front of you. Why did he have to be perfect? 

“For a long time huh?” You just nod and Wonwoo laughs nodding along with you reaching across the table to run his fingers along yours, letting you take his hand this time. “Me too. I think I started talking to Mingyu about you two weeks after I hired you. About how pretty you were and how my day had never felt so bright.” 

Whining, you look down at your half eaten risotto making Wonwoo laugh against as he pulls his fingers from your hand to reach for your chin tilting your head up so you will look at him. Your eyes were beautiful and just had to see them again, especially with that almost desperate love sick look in them as he ran his thumb along your jaw and you leaned into it. 

“I’m serious, you are so beautiful and I am so lucky to have found you. Not just as my assistant…like this. I’m sorry I was such an idiot and waited so long.” 

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist you shake your head not knowing what to say. His words didn’t seem real, and you felt like if you tried to say anything you’d just make a fool of yourself, so luckily you were saved by the voice of the server. 

“How is everything? Would you like a dessert? How about a cocktail to end your evening?” 

Wonwoo sighs into a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. He wasn’t upset with the man but he had some timing. Looking back over to you, Wonwoo waits for your answer but as you look at the menus, a bit confused, he sighs and clicks his tongue against his teeth before pursing his lips in thought. 

“Sure, make tonight special. The moka French cheesecake, a parisian blonde, and a carajillo.”

Pleased with Wonwoo’s order, the server takes the menu’s back and leaves you alone once again, causing the silence to be deafening. You can’t help but smile as you take one last bite of your food and sigh, daring to look up and meet Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks at you intently. 

“You’re staring at me.”

Grinning, Wonwoo tips back the last of his wine. You were observant. He had been staring but he just couldn’t stop looking at you in the candlelight. 

“Sorry, you can’t see yourself in this light but it’s hard to look away.” 

Tsking, you try to ignore his flattering remarks, knowing you can’t look as good as he is trying to make you feel, though you appreciate his efforts. Rubbing your hands together in your lap, you swallow hard and glance around the room to the other tables, noticing Jeonghan getting up to leave. A quick two finger salute in your and Wonwoo’s direction makes you shake your head, before you nod at him and Wonwoo sighs while doing the same. 

“He’s encourageable, but he does mean well. I hope you’ll meet some of my other friends. They aren’t all like Jeonghan. Some of them are even likeable…” 

Smiling at his words, you pick up your wine, finishing off the last of it, savoring what you can before offering him a soft, amused laugh. 

“I like Mr. Kim. He’s very funny and not that hard on the eyes.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and scoffs before pausing once again as the server returns with drinks and the largest slice of cheesecake that you have ever seen in your entire life. Leaning forward, he slides the cocktail towards you and pulls the smaller, simple, dark drink towards himself.   

“Just call him Mingyu. You seriously boost his ego too much. He isn’t even here, and I’m sure it’s inflating by proxy.” 

Running your fingers along the bottom of your glass, you laugh so sweetly that Wonwoo feels his chest tighten. He loves your laugh, especially when it sounds like that. It’s like bells on the best day of the year, marking every hour something good is happening. But every single thing that is good is you. 

“He’s my best friend but honestly, I have a tight friend group of about..." You watch Wonwoo do a quick count in his head as he narrows one eye closed before nodding. “Twelve guys. They each have their issues but they are all good people. You met Jeonghan tonight; despite his bullshit, he’s reliable.” 

Twelve close friends. God, you weren’t sure you had two people you could call close friends. Wonwoo was incredibly lucky. Shaking your head, you simply smile before taking a sip of your cocktail, making a surprised and happy sound to the taste of it before pulling back from it to look at Wonwoo, who grins. 

“I thought you’d like that one. It is one of my favorites when I’m in the mood for something sweeter and some rum.” 

Pointing to his drink, you take another sip before licking your lips. 

“What did you order?” 

Wonwoo lifts his drink, tilting it before taking a sip and nodding to the taste. It was simple but what he wanted for the night. 

“A carajillo. It’s liquor 43 and espresso. Simple but delicious.” 

Taking another sip, Wonwoo then sets the drink aside in place of picking up his spoon, cutting off the tip of the cheesecake, and turning it towards you. 

"The first bite is yours. It’s their signature dessert.” 

Pressing your lips together, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making your face feel warm or the idea of Wonwoo feeding you but you just smiled. Wonwoo’s lips curve up into a matching smile before he lifts the spoon upwards to entice you, causing you to finally give in and lean in, taking the dessert from his spoon as he watches. 

The entire act is more intimate than you intended, but you quickly feel that embarrassed feeling fade as the luxurious dessert starts to melt on your tongue and you reach up to cover your lips in shock. Wonwoo just grins at your reaction and cuts into the dessert, turning his spoon towards himself this time to take a bite. 

“Mm, I don’t admit this to many people but I usually order an entire cheesecake to take home when I eat here.” 

Laughing at Wonwoo’s confession, you put your hand over your chest, reaching for your own spoon to cut off another bite as you shake your head. It was like eating happiness from a plate and sharing it with Wonwoo, which somehow made it even better. 

“I don’t think anyone would blame you, least of all me. I don’t even know how much it costs, and I would still buy an entire one to take home.” 

Smiling around his spoon, Wonwoo lifts his hand to get the server's attention, who comes over promptly with a smile on his face. 

"Yes, sir, are you enjoying the dessert?” 

You look up midbite with a smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to laugh and nod. 

“Absolutely. Could we please get a full cheesecake to go? Also, give my compliments to the kitchen." 

Reaching into his pocket, Wonwoo watches the server start to say something he doesn’t like but the moment a business card is in his hand and the man reads it, he brightens and agrees, walking away. 

“You’re like magic. He was going to say no.” 

Shrugging, Wonwoo cuts off another bite, leaving the rest for you as he sips on his drink, enjoying watching you finish off the dessert. 

“They don’t sell the whole dessert. I’ve been told no before.” 

Furrowing your brows, you sit up, picking up the last of the cheesecake, tilting your head as you do. 

“But seeing Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of Jeon Infrastructures LLC, changes their mind." 

Turning your spoon towards Wonwoo this time causes the man to perk up. You watch Wonwoo lean forward, accepting the last of the dessert from you this time, before he smiles and nods, feeling a bit proud of himself. 

“Mm, usually. I don’t use it much but getting the dessert I want seems like a good enough reason to bring up that you are Forbes 30 under 30 blah blah bullshit.” 

You were falling for this man. Most people in his position would use his name for discounts and to get free things in designer stores, but no, Jeon Wonwoo used it to buy cheesecake. You loved that he didn’t take himself so seriously or the Forbes title. Leaning in your elbow on the table, you smile at Wonwoo, sincerely causing him to laugh, feeling shy at your attention. 

“What did I do?”

Shaking your head, you use the straw of your drink to take a sip before lifting your brows and sighing happily. 

“Exceeded my expectations.” 

With the cheesecake securely placed in the backseat floorboard, you watch Wonwoo grin at you from his driverside window before he opens the door and slides in beside you, starting the car. 

“Will the cheesecake make it?”   

Laughing, Wonwoo purses his lips and leans his head back against the headrest before nodding firmly. 

“She’ll make it. Couldn’t have something so precious sliding around the backseat or the trunk. Speaking of…” 

Furrowing your brows, you laugh when Wonwoo leans across the center console to reach over you, grabbing your seatbelt to click it into place. 

“Now everything precious in my car is secure.” 

“You are so full of shit, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo glances down at your lips with a small chuckle before moving back into his seat. He wanted to kiss you but like this, in his car? That wasn’t the move. No matter how pretty you were, no matter how much he wanted it, he could wait. 

“Maybe, but it’s true.” 

You could tell he wanted to kiss you and you were almost sad when Wonwoo moved back from you. Your breath had hitched in your throat but at the same time, you felt relief when he hadn’t kissed you. You needed time to get your brain in the right place. Shaking your head, you reach up to brush your hair from your forehead and clear your throat into a small laugh as Wonwoo drives back in the direction of your house. 

“Such a smooth talker. Not as smooth as Jeonghan, but pretty smooth.” 

A gasp of faux shock leaves Wonwoo’s mouth, causing you to laugh as he reaches over from the gearshift to slide his fingers along your wrist and into your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“I’m appalled.” 

Glancing down at your hand and Wonwoo's, you feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around to the point where you feel queasy. You can’t help but smile like a girl falling in love for the first time as you bite at your lip and shake your head, trying to regain your composure. 

"Oh, I’m sure you are. Entirely appalled and disgusted.” 

Wonwoo grins, his thumb gliding along yours as his hand rests on your lap. He feels the fingers of your other hand tracing the back of his hand and Wonwoo thinks he has died and gone to heaven over such a simple action. 

“I am, completely.” 

You just smile, looking down at Wonwoo’s hand as you trace each of his fingers, watching as he extends them to let you do so. Your head is tilting as you marvel at how pretty his hand is and how much you are enjoying his attention. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about, so much so that you just hummed out a sound to his words, making Wonwoo glance at you and smile as you lean your head back on the headrest and close your eyes. 

“Take a nap; it’s a long drive.” 

Wonwoo watches you shake your head no, muttering something about keeping him company but as soon as he starts to tell you it’s okay, he’s smiling at your soft breath, knowing you lost your own fight. 

Sliding his hand from yours, Wonwoo reaches up to brush his fingers over your cheek before keeping his hands on the wheel, unwilling to let anything happen to the most precious thing in the car while he was driving. 

When you feel the car come to a stop and hear Wonwoo’s deep but soft voice say your name, you furrow your brows, instantly realizing what had happened. Opening your eyes slowly, you frown, seeing the front of your house, before looking over to a smiling Wonwoo who chuckles at your cute frown. 

“You let me sleep.” 

Wonwoo nods, reaching to brush his thumb across your cheek as you whine his name, feeling frustrated with yourself. 

“Of course I did. You had drinks and I know you don’t sleep enough. You weren’t asleep for more than an hour. Come on, don't be upset.” 

You just pout at Wonwoo as you undo your seatbelt, causing the man to laugh once again. You were unbearably cute and all he wanted to do was take care of you. He wanted to take you inside and make love to you, let you curl up against him, and sleep the night away but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. 

“Seriously, I’m happy you got some rest. Let me walk you to the door.” 

Watching Wonwoo slide from his seat, you are surprised to see him stop at the backseat, taking out the cheesecake, before he moves to your door to see you looking at him suspiciously. 

“I got it for you.” 

You wanted to hit him but you were afraid he would drop the probably incredibly expensive cheesecake and it was far too delicious for that. 

“Why? It’s your favorite.” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement, moving to the side so you can stand beside him and lead him towards your front door. 

“But you are my favorite and you liked it so much. Maybe I can enjoy a piece of it sometime soon.” 

Swallowing hard, you understand the underlying message of his words. Did he want to be invited inside? For cheesecake, were you the cheesecake? God, you were being ridiculous and reading far too much into this. 

Wonwoo can almost see the wheels turning in your head as he stands beside you on your porch. It was cold; you were already shivering and as much as he wanted to stay and talk to you and be with you for longer, he didn’t want you to catch a cold. You watch as he turns to set the bag down in a chair on your front porch before turning back to you with a smile. 

“I hope you had a good time." 

You tilt your head a bit like a confused puppy and Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you under his breath, taking a step towards you to not only block the wind but also run his hands along your arms over your coat. 

“Yeah, I did. Thank you. I would love to see you again.” 

That made Wonwoo smile brighter than you had seen all night. He knew he had done this right. Nodding, Wonwoo bites at his bottom lip, glancing at yours, before sighing your name and closing his eyes briefly before biting the bullet and speaking up. 

“May I kiss you?” 

He was asking? God, your head was spinning. You couldn’t remember the last date you went on, and at the end of the date, the man actually asked you before he kissed you. This was some romance novel shit and you were living for it. Nodding, you whimper out a yes as Wonwoo’s thumb brushes your jawline up to your ear. 

A small smile pulls at Wonwoo’s lips as he nods to let you know he heard you before he leans down to brush his lips against yours for the first time, listening to your whine into the kiss. You were so cute and the sound went straight to his head and his pants. 

Gripping your arms briefly to calm himself, Wonwoo then slides his hands down to yours, taking them into his own and linking his fingers with yours before deepening the kiss. He wanted more; he could taste the chocolate still on your tongue but mostly he could just taste you and that was intoxicating. You were better than he had even imagined. 

Leaning up to meet his kiss, you tighten your hands in Wonwoo's, digging your nails into the back of his hands when Wonwoo’s tongue glides along yours. This was one hell of a first kiss. He was making your knees feel weak, your stomach was doing flips, and all your body was doing was screaming his name. 

Pulling back from the kiss gently, Wonwoo nudges your nose with his as he smiles, feeling you chase him. He wanted to give you more. He wanted to give in and ask to come inside but he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be that guy. He didn’t want to give you that impression of him. So instead, he leans to kiss your cheek and then your jaw, listening to your whimper as he catches his breath, keeping his voice low. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Holding the cheesecake in your arms, you rest your back against the door, listening to Wonwoo’s car drive out of your driveway and disappear down the road before you can make yourself move. Your lips still tingling, you close your eyes and stomp your feet like Jacob during one of his tantrums before walking towards the kitchen, putting the box into the fridge, and shutting it with more force than necessary. 

You weren’t mad at Wonwoo for leaving. You knew it was for the best. You weren’t that girl. You didn’t give yourself up the first day but for him...  God, you would have. After that kiss, you were uncomfortable and needy and all you wanted was to call him and tell him to come back and finish what he had started but instead you kicked your shoes off and fell on your bed, whispering Wonwoo’s name like a prayer. 

Leaning against your counter, you look at your phone, wondering if you were being silly or if you were being dramatic. It was just a phone call. He could say no. He could say yes. Which would be worse? Neither if you never called. 

Groaning to yourself, you hit Wonwoo’s name in your contacts list and put your phone to your ear, listening to its ring as you bite at your thumbnail. Finally, you hear his deep voice say your name on the other end. Instantly, you can’t help but smile and feel shy, just whispering back a hi. 

Wonwoo had wanted to call or text you all day but he didn’t want to see you desperate or crowd you. He felt like he had done enough of that the night before with his kiss but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Not that he wanted to. All he could remember was the taste of your lips and the feeling of you against his chest. So hearing you smile through the phone made Wonwoo feel giddy. 

“Hey, how are you? What are you up to?” 

You had called him; he shouldn’t have to lead the conversation but you were glad he was because the moment you heard him speak, you felt like a teenager trying to remember how to talk to a boy. Flexing your toes on the tile under your feet, you smile into your words, wrinkling your nose as you try to calm yourself down, knowing where you want this conversation to go. 

“I’m okay; how about you? And, uh, I’m just lazing around the house...  I wanted to see if you wanted to come over and watch a movie. Eat some of that cheesecake.” 

Wonwoo leans his head back on his couch and grins. He wasn’t even sure how he had been feeling a moment before you asked him over but now he was nothing but perfect. Laughing into his words, Wonwoo tries to hide the smirk in his voice but fails. 

“I’d love to. Anytime, or did you have something in mind?” 

God, why did he sound so sexy today? Maybe it was because you were letting yourself think about him that way. Whereas yesterday you were keeping it more professional and trying not to let yourself get ahead of the game, but now... there was a rasp to his voice. You could listen to him talk all day long. You could listen to him telling you what to do all nig–

“Y/N?” 

Fuck, you had started daydreaming and hadn’t answered out loud. Clearing your throat, you press your thighs together and let out a breath away from the phone before nodding. 

“Anytime is good.” 

Wonwoo could hear your voice shake, and it made him curious as to why that was happening. It caused something in his brain to fire off, his hand tightening into a fist over his knee as he smiles and looks down at the floor. 

“Then I’ll get ready and head over. I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

Shit, holy shit. You just whine out an okay to finish the call when Wonwoo calls you beautiful as a pet name. You had gone far too long without being touched, and now you were acting like some touched, starved lunatic even after touching yourself last night. 

Smacking your hands against your thighs, you shake them out as if shaking out the anxiety and glance at the clock, trying to calculate how much time you would have before Wonwoo showed up, and you needed to be as normal as possible. 

Perhaps Wonwoo broke a few speeding laws in order to make the best time he could to get to your house, but he had figured out what that sound was in your voice. You had sounded needy, and now Wonwoo was fighting an internal battle with himself to keep it in his pants. That wasn’t why he was over at your house. He was here for cheesecake, a movie, and your company. 

Ringing your doorbell, Wonwoo is a bit shocked at the difference in time it takes for you to open the door compared to the day prior. Today, you still took his breath away. Your makeup was light; you looked a bit better rested, but your clothes were casual. He loved you like this. You looked perfect. 

He hadn’t dressed up either, opting for a simple black longsleeved shirt, jeans, and a jacket now discarded. You were still looking at him like he was dressed in a suit that cost more than your paycheck. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi…”

Things were awkward but it wasn’t because neither of you wanted to be there; instead, there was so much unspoken and undone. There was tension in the air and Wonwoo wasn’t sure how to ease it so instead he just laughed softly, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“You look pretty.” 

God, he had to stop saying things. Just stop speaking all together, or you are not going to make it. Giving him a pained smile, you just laugh, lifting your hand to your neck to rub it as you move into the kitchen, letting him follow you a bit confused. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

Wonwoo watches you shake your head. His eyes follow you as you take the cheesecake out of the fridge and then a plate from your cabinet to put one slice on it. 

“Not even close.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo leans towards you over the island as you take out a spoon and finally glance up at him. 

“Then tell me what’s going on. I don’t wanna fuck this up.” 

Biting your lip, you sigh and lean your head back, making Wonwoo laugh softly as he watches you be dramatic. 

“I really like you, Wonwoo. Last night was perfect, and the kiss... I don’t know how to ask for any of this.” 

Tilting his head, Wonwoo smirks a bit when you shoot him a look, turning away to put away the rest of the cheesecake. He follows you, laughing once again, as you seem to almost run away from him with the cheesecake in hand, towards your living room, plopping down on the couch with a pout on your face. 

“Ask for this? I–Y/N…” Reaching out for the plate, Wonwoo sits it on the coffee table before sitting beside you, leaning towards you, and brushing his thumb along your neck, causing you to shiver at his touch. “You want me to kiss you again?” 

When you whine instead of answering, Wonwoo can’t help but coo at you like he did the night before. You were so cute when you couldn’t just speak. You weren’t used to this; you weren’t used to asking for what you wanted or getting what you wanted. Wonwoo was going to change that. 

“I’ll kiss you. Anytime you want. As much as you want.” 

With his lips hovering over yours, Wonwoo smiles when you lean forward, trying to make him keep to his word. You feel his thumb press to the side of your neck, gently keeping you back from him as he tsks softly. Wonwoo brushes his nose against yours and whispers your name as your lips part for him and he gives in by pressing his lips to yours softly. 

Wonwoo loved kissing you already. You were soft and tasted so good that he felt drunk off of you. It didn’t take much for him to want more. Your hands are pulling at his shirt, one tangled in the front and the other pulling him closer to his side. He wanted to push you down on your couch and climb on top of you, but he wanted to take it slow. This wasn’t why you had said you had invited him over. 

Pulling back slowly, Wonwoo gently pecks at your lips before smiling and sitting back, completely listening to you catch your breath. His eyes finally open, and Wonwoo feels his cock twitch already starting to get hard from just kissing you. You looked like a dream. Your lips were bitten and slightly swollen from his kiss. Your chest was rising and falling quickly from how excited you were. 

Wonwoo watches you start to calm down as he leans towards the coffee table to pick up the plate with your cheesecake, cutting off the tip of the dessert, waiting for you to open your eyes before he offers it to you. You can’t help but laugh as he does. 

“In my opinion, the first bite of any dessert is the best bite, and for cheesecake, there is no better bite than the tip of the triangle. You deserve the best.” 

Furrowing your brows, you lean forward, taking the dessert from him, only to smile at the now welcome and comforting taste. Wonwoo’s words make your chest feel tight and warm as he smiles at you, watching you enjoy the first bite as if it were him doing it instead. 

“So what movie are we watching?” 

Halfway through The Family Stone and the second slice of cheesecake, you find yourself wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms. Your legs pulled up onto the couch as he rested his feet on the coffee table once he knew it was okay to do so. 

This was your idea of a perfect evening and the perfect date, but you were still stealing glances at Wonwoo as he chuckled at the movie occasionally and reached up to brush his fingers against your cheek. He was so handsome it was hard not to watch him instead of the movie, and around the twentieth time you had done it, Wonwoo glanced down into your eyes and grins, grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb before you could look away. 

“Not so fast.” 

He watches as you laugh, knowing you are caught. Wonwoo’s eyes look over your pretty face so close to his own before he leans in to press a kiss to your lips slowly and gently. There was no urgency behind his kiss but it still took your breath away. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows, feeling his tongue play with the idea of touching yours before he would just catch your bottom lip between his teeth and let go with a soft, happy breath. 

Sliding your hand along his chest, you find yourself whining when Wonwoo’s hand slides from your face to your neck and lowers to rest just above your chest. You can feel his thumb pressing against your collarbone, and you want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you. So you press your fingers into his chest and drag them downward over his stomach,feeling him suck in hard and smile against your lips. 

“Fuck—careful. Trying to be good.” 

Shaking your head, you grip his shirt and tug at it, feeling Wonwoo’s hand slide along your arm up to your wrist, keeping your hand in place as you nip at his lips this time. 

“Y/N, I want you too much. If you keep that up…” 

“Why do you think I’m doing it, Wonwoo? Touch me, you idiot.” 

Wonwoo laughs against your mouth as you insult him and then tug at his shirt, pulling your leg along his thigh and begging for him to touch you. God, how could he say no to that? You felt so good against him, and even your breaths sounded so pretty on his lips. 

“You want me to touch you? Here?” 

Sliding his hand from your chest to your shoulder and along your back, your whine furrows your brows as you all but growl annoyed against his lips. Wonwoo grins into the kiss, deepening it as his hand finally moves to your ass, gripping it tightly and earning himself a moan from you as he does. Your hand loosens on his shirt and goes back to scratching at his torso over his shirt until you find a bit of skin just above his jeans and slide your hand under his shirt over his abs, causing Wonwoo to groan your name. 

“Shit…baby.” 

Wonwoo hadn’t meant to call you a pet name, but your nails felt too good scratching his skin as your mouth moved to his neck. You just smile, enjoying it as his fingers dig into your pants under your ass before he presses his fingers between your legs, making you arch your chest towards him, your breath getting caught in your throat.

“This okay?” Wonwoo watches you nod, a soft yeah falling from your lips as he rubs at your pussy through your sweat pants and panties feeling your soft breasts press against his chest through your clothing. “You’re warm, baby. Wanna…God, I wanna —” 

He wasn’t sure he could finish the words but he didn’t have to as you whined his name and met his eyes. The need is evident in your gaze before the words ever leave your lips. 

“Take me to bed, Wonwoo. I need you.” 

He wasn’t even sure where your bedroom was but Wonwoo nodded and let you grab his hand, tugging him up from the couch and towards the hallway. His eyes only move from you once or twice to glance into rooms, noticing which one is Jacob’s before you pull him into your bedroom and drop his hand, letting him decide what to do next. 

Wonwoo just stares at you for a moment in awe. He was overwhelmed with what he could do and what he wanted to do. He had dreamed about this for longer than he was willing to admit. He had pictured laying you on the bed and having you moan his name, and now you were standing in front of him, wanting him to fuck you. 

Stepping forward, Wonwoo shakes his head as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back into his arms so he can lean down and kiss you deeply once more. He knew he would never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his or the way you melted into his arms as he did it. Your panting moans against his lips are the only reason he pulls back and works his finger tips under your shirt as he walks with you back towards the bed, letting you sit on it as he smiles down at you. 

“I’m so fucking lucky... before we go any further. Baby…I didn’t come over here to plan this. Do you have a condom for me?” 

As you shake your head, Wonwoo feels a bit of disappointment rush through him, but he just nods. There was still plenty he could do. He simply smiles and leans down to press a kiss to your jaw as he lays you back on the bed, dragging your shirt up to your chest over your breasts. 

“That’s okay. I can just take care of you.” 

You shake your head again, lifting your leg to rub along the outside of his thigh before doing the same between his legs, carefully listening to him groan quietly against your stomach as he presses kisses on your skin. 

“No, I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Wonwoo…I want you.” 

Burying his face against your breasts, your bra soft against his cheek, Wonwoo groans at your words before glancing up at you with a nod. You were trusting him with something important and he wasn’t going to fuck that up. 

“It’s been over 6 months for me, but I get tested. I am clean…baby if this is what you want, I’m…yeah, I want you too.” 

Arching off the bed, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo’s to answer his question, making him groan into a laugh as you do. 

“Okay…yeah. I got you.”

Wonwoo’s hands find the end of your shirt as you lift your arms, letting him drag it up and over your head. His eyes move over your upper body as if he were looking at a piece of fine art. You can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention when Wonwoo grins down at you, the back of his right hand running between your breasts as his left moves behind you, working the clasp open. 

He was intoxicated without taking a sip of alcohol and it was all because of you. Wonwoo could picture himself dreaming about this moment every night. He could envision waking up next to you and burying his face against your neck and his fingers between your legs, listening to your moans. 

“Wonwoo…” 

There was that needy sound in your voice once again. It was making Wonwoo painfully hard; he could feel how much he was leaking in his boxers. It was driving him insane how much he wanted to be inside of you. Each one of your moans drives him a little bit more insane with lust. 

“Baby, you’re killing me…” 

You could feel Wonwoo’s cock pressed against his jeans as you rubbed your leg against him. You wanted him out of his clothes and you wanted him to get your clothes off of you. He was moving too slowly for your liking. 

“I might kill you if you don’t get inside of me.” 

Laughing, Wonwoo drags the straps of your bra down your arms as he shakes his head. He knew it was an empty threat and yet he knew he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every time he glanced up at your face, your eyes were on him; your lips were either parted or you were biting on them. He was dying either way. 

Arching towards Wonwoo, you whimper as his breath fans across your chest. His hands slide along your sides until his thumbs press under your breasts, pushing them upwards. Wonwoo smiles as he looks up at you before pressing a kiss on the swell of each of your breasts. He was enjoying watching you fall apart. He was enjoying watching your mind melt as all coherent words fade away into nothing but Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo...

“You are so beautiful. Please don’t make me rush, baby. Not this time…” 

This time. The words make you laugh into a moan as Wonwoo’s lips wrap around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger lightly massaging your left. This time, you think again. He wanted another time. How many times did he want? You wanted forever with how he was making you feel. 

Wonwoo smiles upon hearing you moan his name, his eyes moving back up at your face as he rests his teeth against your nipple, just barely applying any pressure. He watches as you push your head back into the pillow, your hand reaching up for the headboard, only for your nails to scratch at the fabric lightly. Wonwoo groans against your skin as you roll your body like a wave towards him, enticing him to move further and give you more. 

“Don’t rush me…” 

His voice is a whisper between kisses as Wonwoo works his lips across your breasts and up your chest to your throat as his fingers slide towards your sweatpants. You weren’t trying to, not consciously, but your body was begging him to hurry. He could feel the goosebumps spreading along your skin at his touch. He could feel the hitching of your breath in your throat under his lips as his fingers slipped under the top of your pants and over your panties between your legs. 

“Mm… Won—Wonwoo…” 

All that need and desire. Wonwoo hisses as you moan his name again. His teeth scratch against your neck as his middle finger presses to the center of your slit, feeling your warmth and how you were soaking through the lace covering you. 

“I’m here. Let me tell you what I’m gonna do, mm—okay?” 

You nod and let out a loud breath as Wonwoo’s teeth catch your ear, only for him to breathe against your ear and then laugh at your reaction. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but instead, you could tell that he was overwhelmed with his own desire. He was fighting every instinct to fuck you into the mattress without ceremony. He knew you deserved better. 

“I’m going to finish undressing you and myself.” Wonwoo smiles as you grab at his shirt, making a happy sound. “Then I’m going to taste you; use my fingers to prep you for my cock…” 

Furrowing your brows, you whine to Wonwoo’s words, looking up at him as he leans back, opening his eyes. You could feel him through his jeans as he laid against your hip on the bed. He was big, perhaps bigger than any man you had been with before. Hearing his words while his finger pushed your panties to the side and you felt his skin slide between your wet folds caused you to say his name with even more lust laced in your voice. 

He had told you what was coming next and yet when Wonwoo slid his hand from your pants you still wanted to cry. You could hear the soft coo in his voice as he tried to keep you calm. 

“Shh… I’m not leaving you. Told you what I was doing, didn’t I?” 

You nod as you watch Wonwoo take off his glasses and lean to put them on your nightstand. He looked good either way you instantly think to yourself but there was something mildly dangerous about Wonwoo without his glasses. A smirk forms on the man’s lips as you watch him drag his shirt over his head. He can feel your fingers in the loops of his jeans as an anchor to keep him tethered to you, forcing him to keep his promises. 

You had begun to play with the button, keeping his pants closed but you weren’t sure if you should. You didn’t know if Wonwoo would be okay with you undoing it but one low chuckle that went straight to your core, causing a new rush of arousal, told you otherwise.

Glancing down at your fingers as you circle the button, Wonwoo bites his bottom lip before looking up at you. Your fingers were delicate compared to his. There was something about that that was causing his brain to misfire and picture the dirtiest things but he would never tell you not to undo his pants, especially as he had already been undressing you. 

“Go ahead, baby. I’m yours…” 

Wonwoo’s words make you look up at him in surprise. He just smiles at you as you rest your fingertips on the top of his jeans before you let out a breath and mutter something under your breath. Wonwoo feels pressure release as you unzip his jeans; a bit more space is given for his hard cock but he can’t help but tilt his head and reach down to your face, titling it back towards him out of curiosity. 

“What did you say? You were so quiet.” 

Your cheeks were already burning from his attention but when Wonwoo wants you to repeat what you had barely whispered above a breath, you all but whine in protest, causing him to laugh. Shaking his head, Wonwoo slides back from you to kick off his jeans before reaching for the top of your sweatpants, beginning to drag them down as he looks into your eyes and asks again. 

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

Closing your eyes, you swallow hard at the pet name and the feeling of Wonwoo’s knuckles running along the length of your legs as he pulls your pants from your body completely. 

“I–just…that I want to be yours too. If–” Your words get caught in your throat as Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, his fingers wrapped in the sides of your panties pulling them down just like your pants, before he groans for you to go on. “Wonwoo! I can’t talk like this when you are kissing my thighs.” 

Chuckling once again, Wonwoo opens his eyes as he leans back to lift your legs, pulling lace from your feet, and drop your panties onto the floor onto a growing pile of clothes. He keeps your legs closed on purpose as he looks over your body up to your face, lifting his brow in a daring look, allowing you to finish. 

This hadn’t been what you had wanted. You hadn’t wanted him to stop. You wiggle in Wonwoo’s grasp, his hand holding your ankles as his free hand runs along the back of your thigh. You could see the patience in his eyes and it was frustrating. 

“Wonwoo…” 

“Finish what you were saying.” 

Damn him. Pressing your head back against the pillow, you scratch at the comforter under you, listening to Wonwoo smile into a breath as you do. 

“If you are mine, then I want to be yours.” 

Wonwoo knew what you were going to say. At least he had a good idea of where you were going with your words but he had to hear them. It was all that he wanted—for you to be his…completely. 

“Then you’re mine.” 

You feel Wonwoo’s fingers let go of your ankles in place of lifting your left leg and placing it on the bed. A soft whimpering moan slips from your lips when you feel the way your folds pull apart between your legs as Wonwoo pushes your legs up, giving him room to lay between them. 

Licking his thumb first, Wonwoo then presses it between your wet lips, barely putting any pressure on your clit to watch your reaction. The way that you hold to the bed, rolling your hips towards his hand, Wonwoo can only smile as he leans to press a soft kiss to your thigh. 

With a brush of his knuckles, Wonwoo teases his fingers down to your leaking opening while leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of your mound. The center of your legs is warm and inviting and Wonwoo thinks to himself how he could be here for hours if you’d let him. He could picture himself listening to your whimpers as he ran his tongue along your soft folds, avoiding your clit as he slowly rutted his hips against your bed for some bit of relief. 

“Shit, baby… You taste good.” 

Wonwoo couldn’t help but lick his lips, already tasting the arousal you were leaking that was running along his fingers from just teasing you. He needed more and he was getting greedy. Slipping the first finger into you, Wonwoo groans when your soft walls not only welcome him in but they also tighten and quiver. 

He can’t help but breathe hot breath against your pussy as he slides in closer to you, getting addicted to the feeling of the warm velvety walls around his finger and thinking how good it will feel around his cock. Groaning your name, Wonwoo circles his finger inside of you and curls it back towards him before adding a second. 

Your reaction is like bliss for Wonwoo and he can’t stand it anymore. You arch your back, feeling his tongue run flat from the base of his fingers over your clit and back. It’s messy between the way you are leaking from each pump of Wonwoo’s fingers and how he groans, pulling back from your folds with spit covering you and his mouth. 

“You’re so tight.” 

You aren’t even sure if Wonwoo is actually speaking to you or if he is just saying the statement out into the room as he leans back in to pull at your folds with his lips. You could feel how tightly you were closing in around his fingers but you were going to cum and there was no way you could stop it. Whimpering his name, you lift your hips only for Wonwoo to push them back down his mouth, finding your clit when your whisper becomes a sound from your chest as you orgasm hard around his fingers for the first time. 

Wonwoo smiles, feeling you cum, his tongue teasing your clit until you reach between your legs to tug at his hair, making him chuckle against your pussy. It was bad enough his fingers were still inside you, fucking your cum back into you lazily. You couldn’t stand his skillful tongue abusing your tender clit anymore, not right now. 

With one last kiss to your thigh, Wonwoo groans, slipping his fingers from your pussy. His eyes move from your now swollen folds to his fingers before he glances up at you and sucks them clean with a groan to your taste. When you smile and lift your hand to cover your face, you hear Wonwoo laugh. You feel his knee rest between your legs and his clean hand pulls your hand from where you were trying to hide. 

“What’s that about?” 

Looking up at him, you watch as he once again sucks his fingers clean before leaning over you to press a kiss to your jaw as you sigh happily. 

“You’re lewd.” 

Wonwoo laughs surprised against your cheek, turning his face so he can look at you even so close. He shakes his head and rubs his thumb along your wrist, holding your arm to the bed as he hums out an amusing and thoughtful sound. 

“Am I? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word said aloud, first of all, and secondly, I’ve certainly never been called it before. All of this because I was cleaning my fingers.”

You smile, turning your head to the side so you can feel Wonwoo’s lips press against your throat. He was giving you time to come down from your first orgasm and you could appreciate that but you were already rubbing against his thigh and you wanted him out of his underwear. 

“You should find more sophisticated circles if you’ve never heard the world ‘lewd’ spoken aloud, Jeon Wonwoo. And it was...you–" You laugh, trying not to feel embarrassed by what you wanted to say and the action you wanted to repeat but Wonwoo's chuckling against your ear caused you to rub your lips together. “It was my cum you were licking from your fingers.” 

Grinning, Wonwoo rolls his hips towards you so he can press his thigh up flush with your warm pussy. He could feel you trying to ride his thigh as he ran his fingers along your arm and his lips along your neck. There was something special about hearing you say something dirty, even if it made your face hot against his touch. 

“How lewd of you to say, Miss Y/L/N.” 

When you push playfully at Wonwoo, he laughs, sliding back and drawing your eyes with him. Any bit of playfulness that you had fades away as you watch him step off the bed and press his thumb into the top of his boxers. Instead, you swallow hard and fight over whether you should look away or just take in what is in front of you. 

Wonwoo watches your face start to turn when he is about to push his boxers over the top of his cock and he can’t help but smile at you. You were perfect and you were his. There was no reason for you to look away from what was yours. 

“Baby…” 

His voice drawing your eyes back to him, you hum out a soft yeah in question only to hear it die on your lips as Wonwoo pushes his boxers down for you and steps out of them. 

“You don’t have to be shy around me, okay?” 

You were fully looking at every inch of Wonwoo now and he was telling you not to be shy around him. Whining, you look up from his cock to Wonwoo’s eyes, causing the man to laugh at your reaction. Sliding back on to the bed, Wonwoo trails his hand along your stomach and to your hand, picking it up and guiding it to his hip. 

“Talk to me.” 

Shaking your head, your eyes fall to where he had placed your hand, noting that he hadn’t left you there by yourself. Instead, Wonwoo was dragging your fingers along his skin and somehow that made it more sensual. Your brain was cloudy with want, your mouth was watering, and now your eyes were back on his very well endowed cock that rested on your thigh as he let your fingers to it. 

“Big.” 

Well, Wonwoo thought to himself with a smile on his lips as you spoke one word. He had told you to speak to him and that was speaking. Shaking his head, Wonwoo chuckled a bit, lifting his brows as he wrapped your fingers and his around his shaft, causing himself to shiver and groan. 

“Boosting my ego?” 

Letting Wonwoo guide your hand over his head and collect some of his pre-cum making the glide smoother, you press your head back against the pillow, glancing from your hand up to Wonwoo’s face and back as he speaks. You weren’t necessarily trying to do that; you were just saying what was on your mind and that was that Wonwoo was big. You could already feel the stretch between your legs but it was all you wanted. 

“Wasn’t my intention? You don’t seem like the kind of man who looks for ego boosts.” 

Wonwoo grins; you were right. He didn’t need his ego boosted. He wasn’t like some of his other friends when it came to things like that. It was enough to see your delicate hand and fingers around his cock. This was what he had pictured when your fingers were on his pants earlier and he had given into his own dirty little desires. Now he was leaking pre-cum on to your thigh like an excited teenager, but he wasn’t going to apologize for that when you looked like a goddess spread out under him. 

“I’m not. I don’t need them, not when I can have you. I have a feeling that I’m not going to need much of anything if I have you in my life, Y/N.”

You suck on your bottom lip at Wonwoo’s words. Did he even know what he was saying or was it the lust going to his brain? Watching him pull your hand back from him, you almost pouted, but you could see it was getting harder for him to control himself. 

“Can I? I — I wanna be inside of you." 

Your head spinning with his words, you moan, feeling Wonwoo’s hand sliding along your thigh up to your hip as he asks to fuck you. You hadn’t expected him to ask. You were enjoying what he was asking. With your nails digging into his skin, you hold on to Wonwoo’s forearm as you nod, watching him smile in response. 

“Fuck…okay.” 

Wonwoo was quickly remembering that he had the privilege to be with you just the way he was. There was no need to get up and find a condom. No latex kept his cock from feeling those warm, smooth walls that had hugged his fingers before. Cursing under his breath, Wonwoo shakes his head to push the thoughts away for the moment, feeling his cock jerk against your thigh. If he thought too hard about it, he would cum before he got inside of you from the anticipation. 

You watch Wonwoo lay on his side, your brows furrowing, until he smiles at you and helps you do the same. Pulling your leg over his hip, Wonwoo reaches up to push your hair back over your cheek before glancing between your bodies to line himself up with you. 

The stretch, as you had anticipated, is intense but welcomed. Wonwoo is slow and steady, his hand moving to the back of your thigh once he knows he is nestled inside you deeply enough. He uses the movement of his hips and pulls you towards him to bury himself inside of you the rest of the way before staying still and listening to your breath as you adjust. 

Though there was nothing wrong with lying on your back and having a man on top of you, there was something special about laying this close to Wonwoo, feeling your body press up against his as he breathed against your lips. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he did everything he could not to start to beg you to let him move. 

Instead of using your words, you roll your hips towards Wonwoo, granting yourself a deep moan from his chest. Wonwoo smiles against your lips at the feeling of your soft, warm walls constricting around him as you slide over his cock, finally muttering on his lips to move. 

Simply nodding, Wonwoo digs his nails into the thickest part of your ass, pulling you back towards his hips so he can roll his hips towards you, burying himself deeply inside you once again. Both of you seeing stars, you moan his name before Wonwoo swallows it in a deep kiss, repeating the movement with his hips. He could already feel the pressure building in his stomach, his thighs tightening as his climax balanced on the edge of a cliff, threatening to barrel over. 

“More Wonwoo…please.” 

Hissing against your lips, Wonwoo listens to your whispered request, pressing his fingers into your skin. He wanted to go slow to keep you in this position but there was only so fast he could go like this and you wanted more. Groaning, Wonwoo rests his forehead against yours and nods. 

You gasp in surprise when Wonwoo puts you on your back, his body easily finding its way between your legs. With one hand holding yours, Wonwoo presses his lips to your throat, reaching between his legs to press his cock back into you while listening to your loud moan. 

He was deeper. The thrusts were more urgent and he was giving you what you wanted. You had asked for more and this was more. You could feel every inch of Wonwoo as he made sure to press his hips flush with yours and roll his hips upwards, listening to your cries of pleasure. You were close and he could feel it as your pussy clenched around him as you had around his fingers before. 

"Baby, oh my god. Are you gonna cum for me again?” 

Wonwoo feels you nod against the side of his face. He doesn’t pull his lips from your ear; instead, he just chuckles, a warm and soft feeling that makes you shiver uncontrollably under him as you fall over the edge. 

Just as quickly as he laughed, the sound faded from his lips to the feeling of you cumming on his cock. Pushing back from you to look down at your face, Wonwoo groans, seeing the way your lips parted in the perfect way before you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. Even then, he can hear you say his name as he quickens his thrust, burying himself so deeply inside of you that he hopes you won’t want or need anyone ever again. 

“Perfect, you’re perfect, Y/N. Shit… I’m gonna cum too. Where do —” 

Hearing his words, you try to process them as quickly as possible but your leg is quicker than your mouth as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you. Wrapping your leg around his back, you pull him back against you and Wonwoo groans into a laugh at your possessive nature until you roll your hips up and he’s a goner. 

The sound of Jeon Wonwoo cumming isn’t one you thought you would ever hear but it isn’t one you want to ever forget. His voice is deep and if you would ever admit it to him, it caused you to get wet even at work but his groans as he came were a bit higher and mixed with deep praises for how good you had made him feel. 

Collapsing onto you, Wonwoo groans against the crook of your neck, feeling your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair. He was still inside of you, though he could feel himself softening. He could feel the sticky combination of his cum and yours against his skin and between your thighs, and he knew that should make him feel gross, but instead he could only think about laying between your thighs to clean you up with his mouth.

Perhaps another day, he thought to himself with a smile before pushing back on his right hand to look down at you. You were a vision to behold. Sweat running down your temples, tears of pleasure still on your cheeks, and those bitten lips inviting him to kiss them. Wonwoo groans your name before giving in and kissing you softly, his thumb wiping away your tears gently. 

Taking a breath, you run your fingers along Wonwoo’s arm humming out a happy sound to his attention as you come down from your orgasm. You feel him finally slide from you, hearing his soft grunt and you can’t help but to pout at the empty feeling. 

Seeing your pout, Wonwoo grins, kissing your lips once again, wiping your other cheek and letting out a soft sigh before he bites at his lips in thought. He was trying to tell himself to chill but the more he looked at you the more he knew there was no way he could. He was in love with you. 

Your alarm clock made your brows furrow deeply. You could feel warmth against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, and then the soft breath of Wonwoo against your neck that caused you to smile. The memory of the night before flooding back in and how it had all ended. 

You had asked him to stay the night despite knowing it was Monday the next day. You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you alone in that bed after he had held you in the shower and ran his fingers over your body, working your body wash over your skin as if he had done it hundreds of times. 

Reaching over to tap the stop button on your phone, you turn in Wonwoo’s arms to look at the still sleeping man, enjoying the moments to yourself. He was so handsome. You loved the shape of his mouth, the perfect sharpness of the bridge of his nose, and the way he scrunched it when you dared to touch it in his sleep. 

You would have stayed like this forever if it wasn’t for the sudden realization that it was Monday. Monday was the day Daniel would be bringing Jacob back. Jacob was coming back and Wonwoo was in your bed. Wonwoo was in your bed and he was naked. He was very, very naked. 

“Wonwoo!” 

Hearing your panicked voice, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open in alarm, his hand grabbing your waist before he sits up, looking around for any signs of danger. Furrowing his brows when he realizes there is nothing, you watch Wonwoo blink a few times before he looks at you sitting up, a look of confusion on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Jacob will be here soon.” 

Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo wonders if you are panicked because you don’t want Jacob to see him in your house or if it’s about your ex but you put all of his fears aside with your next words. 

“We are naked, Wonwoo…” 

You watch Wonwoo reach up to rub his neck, a laugh slipping from his lips as he nods in agreement. You were right; both you and him were naked. That wouldn’t be ideal for a toddler or an ex-husband to see. 

Sliding out of your bed, Wonwoo moves to pick up his clothes, sliding them back on as he sneaks a glance at you moving to your closet. He knew he would have to go by his house and change before coming into the office, but being the CEO of the company did have it’s perks…he could be late. 

You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as you got dressed. Your cheeks were burning almost as badly as they had when he had been undressing you but you couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. You knew you could ask him to leave but for some reason, you couldn’t find the words or the will to do it. Instead, you wanted to make him coffee and offer him food. There was still time. 

"Uh, they will be here anytime. Do you want—want some coffee? I can make eggs.” 

Wonwoo smiles, sliding his glasses up his nose. You were still acting nervous around him. You had slept with your body pressed up against his all night long and yet you were still stumbling over your words. God, he was in love with you. He just couldn’t say it yet. He was terrified of scaring you away. 

Reaching out to catch your hand as you start to walk past him, Wonwoo pulls you back into his arms so he can lean down to press his lips against yours. He smiles to the happy sound you make, his fingers pressing against the small of your back as you give into the kiss and melt against him, wrapping your arm around his neck. 

“I’d love eggs and coffee. Do you want help —” 

The doorbell stops Wonwoo midsentence, his lips hovering over yours. He could feel his heart start to race in his chest. He had seen Jacob plenty of times but not in this house, and he found himself suddenly very intimidated by the idea of meeting your ex-husband. Putting on a brave face, Wonwoo smiles as you lean back, clearing your throat, to look up at him. 

“Told you…anytime.” 

Following behind you, keeping a safe distance, Wonwoo stops in the living room just out of sight, not sure if you want him to be seen as you move to the front door to open it. He can hear Jacob’s happy voice saying momma as you greet him. He can hear a man’s voice telling you good morning and your own voice saying the same. It sounds friendly but nothing raises any alarms with him. 

Small feet hit hardwood, and then carpet, as Jacob moves towards the living room for his toys, only to stop when he sees Wonwoo gasping up at the man in surprise. You hear the sound and make a face that Daniel can only raise a brow at. 

“Something wrong?” 

“No, uh, no. My—I have a friend…  Wonwoo is here. Jacob…Mr. Je–uh Wonwoo is here. 

Your voice trails off as you get confused on how to approach the situation, moving towards the living room, only to hear Daniel laugh at your struggle. Stopping, you shoot him a look and point in his direction, muttering for him to shut up. Watching the man put up his hands, he follows you, still holding Jacob’s bag, into the living room to see the taller man leaning against the couch. 

Jacob claps excitedly, moving back to his dad to pull open his bag, taking out the toy car, before turning towards Wonwoo to hold it up towards him, showing it off. 

“Car! ‘Ook! Car! Play with me!” 

Laughing, Wonwoo reaches down with a gentle hand to ruffle Jacob’s hair before squatting down to his level and looking at the car with the same excitement that Jacob had shown it to him. 

“That’s so cool. Is it your favorite?” 

Nodding, Jacob moves in closer to Wonwoo’s chest, making his car sound as you and Daniel watch for a moment. With a fond look on your face, Daniel can only smile and nod, clearing his throat softly, drawing your attention back to him while at the same time drawing Wonwoo’s. 

“We can look at it in just a second, okay, little man? Momma said something about eggs.”

“Eggies! Tots too peese!” 

Jacob giggles at his own request, moving to the couch and running his toy across it as Wonwoo stands back up, offering a friendly smile towards the other man. 

“Uh, hey. I’m Wonwoo.” 

Glancing towards you, Daniel raises his brow playfully before offering Wonwoo his hand to shake, reconizing the name. 

"Daniel, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for treating Jacob like that. It's clear to see he likes you. I know he can be a little hyper, especially after a couple days with me.” 

Swallowing hard, you watch your ex-husband and your—what was he? Your boss, your friend, or your boyfriend? Your brain was going crazy now as you watched the two men laugh and shake hands like friends before they glanced at Jacob and then back to you. Wonwoo sighed softly and shook his head. 

“It’s no big deal at all. He’s a great kid, and I really enjoy being around him. You two clearly do a great job with him.” 

Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, Wonwoo watches you stare at him for a moment before Daniel smirks at you and lifts Jacob’s bag, only to put it on a chair, breaking your concentration. 

“Thanks, Wonwoo. Well, I have to get going. Let me say bye to Jacob and I’ll be out of your hair so you two can get back to your morning.” 

Groaning, you catch the teasing in Daniel’s voice, which in turn makes Wonwoo catch it. His cheeks start to burn as he looks down with a chuckle. 

“No problem. Uh, Y/N…I’m gonna go see how your coffeemaker works.” 

You just nod at Wonwoo, letting him slide his fingers over yours as he passes by you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Daniel even as he hugs Jacob and kisses the top of his head. Moving back around the couch, your ex-husband chuckles, leaning to poke at your arm before he glances into the kitchen, watching Wonwoo open cabinets like he lives there. 

“You little slu–” 

“If you finish that sentence...  I will knee you right in the dick, Kang Daniel.” 

You knew he was teasing and you were smiling but you couldn’t handle it right now. Not with Jacob so close and Wonwoo in just the other room. Pointing at the front door, you listen to Daniel laugh as he offers Wonwoo a wave in passing, getting one in return before he walks with you to the door. 

“I know who he is.” 

Sighing heavily, you stomp your feet on the tile, lightly glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you as Daniel speaks. 

“I know you do; now hush.” 

Shaking his head, Daniel grins and reaches up to pat your cheek once before dropping his hand. He loved to see you happy and to tease you. You were always so cute when you were flustered. 

“I like him. If you don’t date him, I will.” 

“Oh my god, if you don’t get out of my house..." 

Laughing a bit louder than intended as you try to kick his leg, Daniel puts his hand over his lips to stiffen the laugh, opening the door to the cold air to escape your attack. 

“Fine, fine. I will talk to you later. Have a good rest of your day, Mrs. Jeon.” 

Pushing his shoulder hard, you listen to Daniel laugh as he stumbles on to the porch when you close the door behind him, leaning against it. Your heart is racing but there is a smile on your face. As annoying as your ex could be, you didn’t mind the name hitting your ears. 

Taking a moment, you collect yourself, enjoying the smell of fresh coffee filling the air as you move back towards the living room to find Jacob. You half expected him to rush towards you like he did most mornings after being with his dad. He usually wanted to tell you all about his trip but today you press your fingers to your lips as you lean against the wall, watching him sit on Wonwoo’s lap, going through his toys one by one. 

“Oh yeah? What’s that one?” 

Jacob laughs, trying to say bear, only for Wonwoo to help him get the word right on the third try. Wonwoo grins and holds the boy a bit tighter, only then seeming to notice you watching him. Offering you a smile, he tilts his head, starting to move but you shake your head and lift your hands. 

“I’ll start breakfast.” 

Smiling up at you, Jacob babbles about tater tots once again, making you and Wonwoo laugh. 

“I’ll make you tots; show Wonwoo your book.” 

Wonwoo smiles, reaching for the small book and offering it to the boy, who points at it and says book, then at the word on the cover. 

“Colors.” 

Grinning, Wonwoo smiles against the small boy's head and nods. 

“That’s right. You’re smart, little man.” 

You can only put a hand on your chest, feeling your heart tighten with how much you love the sight of Wonwoo with Jacob. Pulling open the fridge, you smile, listening to both of them laugh as Wonwoo helps Jacob through the book, reading each color and listening to your son repeat them back to him. 

“So, if you aren’t busy tonight, would you want to come over for dinner?” 

Wonwoo glances up from his computer to look at you standing next to his desk. Your tablet is in your hands as you scroll through his schedule. The two of you had done a great job at pretending like nothing had changed at work when the door was open but behind closed doors, it was a bit harder for him not to want to put you on top of his desk and eat you out. Your skirt was hugging your thighs deliciously, and all Wonwoo could think was how it had been days since the first time he had been with you. He knew he was being insatiable. 

“I’m not busy; I’m never busy when it comes to spending time with you.” 

You smile, unable to keep it from your lips, at Wonwoo’s words. He was a charmer and it had only gotten worse since your date and night together. You had wanted to see him again but work and Jacob made things a bit more difficult. You couldn’t just get a babysitter and take time from your son to spend it with a man. You were a mom first and Wonwoo understood that. But then Jacob started asking for “Woo,” and you knew you had to do something. 

“Okay…Jacob will be with me, of course but he’s been asking to see you. He’s been asking for Woo to come back over and see him.” 

God Wonwoo’s chest was tight. His heart felt like it was going to burst upon hearing that. He was desperately in love with you and he adored Jacob. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen himself as a father, but the moment Jacob sat down in his lap at your house and started showing him toys, asking him how to say them, he knew he wanted to be in that little boy’s life for the rest of his life. He wanted to be in your life. 

“Oh yeah? I’d be happy to see the little man. I’ve missed him and his momma.” 

That shouldn’t make you want him. That was a sweet comment. It wasn’t flirty, so why did your thighs push together on instinct? You were down bad for this man. Clearing your throat, you push together your lips, trying to stop yourself from smiling so broadly but it’s impossible as Wonwoo watches your own smile on display. 

“Then I’ll see you after work, Mr. Jeon.” 

Your bright smile and the use of Mr. Jeon cause Wonwoo’s breath to hitch. You were testing him. He was going to put you over the desk if he looked at you for much longer but much to his dismay, you laugh sweetly as you close his door behind you, leaving him half hard in his dress pants. 

“I could do the dishes, Y/N.” 

Wonwoo sighs as you smack at his hand, lifting the plates from the table. You had already told him no several times but he was trying to be insistent on helping. 

“No, seriously. Go relax. Jacob will have to go to bed soon and he wanted to see you. You can’t see him if you are helping me load the dishwasher.” 

Grumbling under his breath, Wonwoo leans to kiss your cheek, making you smile, and glances around for Jacob, making sure he can’t see it happening. Wonwoo had been good up to that point. He had snuck in a couple of kisses here and there, but he seemed to know to watch his hands when your son was around. You were appreciative of that. 

Moving into the living room, Wonwoo smiles when Jacob perks up seeing him. He loved that look on the toddler's face and that he could be the one to put it there. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it but he would do anything to keep it there. 

“What’s up, little man?” 

“Woo! Turn tv on." 

Wonwoo wasn’t sure what the after dinner rules were but you haven’t said that Jacob wasn’t allowed to watch television so he shrugged and slumped down on the couch, picking up the remote as Jacob pulled himself up next to him. 

“What are we watching?” 

Smiling, Wonwoo lets Jacob wiggle his way into his lap and back against his chest as the boy looks at the television. 

“That! ‘Ook! Cars!” 

Wonwoo laughs as he stops watching the movie, putting the remote next to him. It was well into the movie, the red racecar riding around the town with the tow truck as they talked to one another but Jacob seemed happy as he held his own toy car to his stomach. 

Dinner had been delicious; Wonwoo’s stomach was full and now he had a warm toddler laying against him like a blanket. Jacob giggled at the movie and then curled up against him, running the wheels of his car over Wonwoo’s leg before his breaths became more steady. The little boy was starting to fall asleep as Wonwoo’s hand ran along his back calmly. 

Smiling down at him, Wonwoo couldn’t help but run his fingers through Jacob’s hair as he watched his small eyes flutter closed. It was around his bedtime. Wonwoo remembered from your date that this was around the time you had mentioned so it made sense, especially with a full stomach, that he would be tired. 

Maybe he should put him to bed? But then he might wake him up? Shaking his head to his own thoughts, Wonwoo just smiles as his own eyes start to close, the movie a quiet background to the soft breaths of the toddler asleep in his arms. 

Finishing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, you curse under your breath, seeing the time and realizing it was past Jacob’s bedtime. It wasn’t a huge deal, but you didn’t want him to be wound up and harder to put down, especially with Wonwoo over. You start to speak but stop short when you move into the room to find Jacob asleep, laying on Wonwoo’s chest. The man’s eyes closed as he pats your son’s back gently. 

Your heart was full and you felt tears on the rims of your eyes as you watched them for a few minutes, not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was so rare that Jacob was this content, and you weren’t sure how Wonwoo’s life was outside of what he had spent with you but it was nice to see him at peace. 

Finally moving into the room, you turn off the television before leaning to brush your fingers over Wonwoo’s hair, causing him to smile and open his eyes to look up at you. Whispering hi, he glances down at Jacob, causing you to smile as you drop your fingers to that of your son’s hair, brushing through the slightly tangled locks, careful not to wake him. 

“I can get him to bed.” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo shakes his head and shifts slightly before looking up at you. 

“I can carry him, if that’s okay with you.” 

Your heart was so tight with how much you were falling for Wonwoo that it was almost painful. Pressing your lips together, you nod and take a step back, letting Wonwoo move to his feet carefully. You watch as he cradles your son to his chest, shifting him so that his little cheek rests on his shoulder, Wonwoo’s arm against his legs, and his other hand behind his back, before he smiles at you, waiting for you to lead the way. 

Reaching up to pat your lips and trying to keep yourself from smiling too big, you just shake your head and start walking in the direction of Jacob’s bedroom with Wonwoo in tow. He watches as you turn on Jacob’s nightlight and pull back his covers, letting him lay down in the small bed. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo.”

Smiling, Wonwoo nods at you, taking a few steps back so you can sit next to your son, tucking him in and shushing him back to a deep sleep. Leaning against the door frame, Wonwoo can’t help but picture every night going exactly like this. Watching you put Jacob to bed—perhaps another child in the future—before he would bring you back into his arms...

You nuzzle your nose against Jacob’s cheek as he smacks his lips, his little hand wrapped around your fingers. You could tell he was tired and happy and that was all you wanted in life—for your son to be happy. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you smile and lean back, carefully taking your hand back before whispering as you smooth his hair one last time. 

“Goodnight, baby. I love you.” 

Wonwoo watches. You have to pull yourself away from Jacob, but the moment you turn back to him, you smile, and he just shakes his head in awe of how beautiful you are. Reaching out his hand, he takes yours, leading you out into the hall and letting you stop to close Jacob’s door before he leans to press his lips against your forehead. 

“Stay…” 

Your words cause Wonwoo to close his eyes. He hadn’t been sure what you would want but he had hoped you wouldn’t want him to leave. Lacing your fingers with his, you turn towards your bedroom, leading Wonwoo with you. 

Wonwoo’s fingers fall from yours as you step to close your door, turning to rest your back against it as he watches you. Swallowing hard, he furrows his brows, almost nervous to move this time. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, especially since he knew the two of you weren’t alone tonight and if that meant just sleeping with you in your bed, he was okay with it. 

As if sensing his apprehension, you smile and step forward, pulling your shirt up and over your head, only to drop it and hear Wonwoo’s shaky breath once you are in reach of him. His fingers run over your sides and up to the clasp of your bra, resting in the middle of your back, when you look up to meet his eyes. 

“Make love to me. Yes…we have to be quiet but you can still make love to me.” 

Wonwoo nods, his fingers working open the clasps as he leans down to meet your lips gently at first, only to deepen the kiss when your nails scratch under his shirt, pulling him closer to you. You listen to him bite back his own groan by pushing his lips against yours when your nails dig into his skin at his hips, causing you to smile on his lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You told me to be quiet.” 

Nodding, you look up at him innocently and Wonwoo shakes his head, scoffing at you. A small squeak slips from your lips when Wonwoo’s arms slide under your ass, picking you up even for a moment so he can lay you back on your bed. Laying over you, Wonwoo grins down at you, seeing a look of surprise in your eyes. 

“Don’t tease me.” 

You smile, your bottom lip caught between your teeth at Wonwoo’s words. He didn’t mean it and you knew it. 

“No?” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you playfully as you lift your hips, letting him help you out of your jeans and panties. Between brief kisses to your breasts, stomach, and legs, you watch Wonwoo strip out of his own clothes before he is back on your bed, resting against your headboard and pulling you onto his lap. 

“I don’t think you mean it.” 

Wonwoo’s brow lifts at your words before a long, soft groan slips from his lips as your hand wraps around his cock, twisting slowly. You were sitting back on his thighs just enough that he could picture you sitting on his cock but now here he was watching your pretty hand work over his length, teasing him like he had told you not to. 

“I–fuck. Did mean it.” 

Leaning to press a kiss to his cheek, you stroke Wonwoo’s cock from his base to his head, letting your palm roll over his head before repeating the process all over again. 

"No, you didn’t. You like to be teased, Wonwoo. Least by me, I think... am I wrong, baby?” 

Baby…Wonwoo groans your name when you call him the pet name. God, you were his, and he wanted you forever. You were right about everything. In the past, he had hated to be teased but as you pressed your thumb into his slit and then played with the pre-cum that oozed from his tip, Wonwoo could only pant out your name like a prayer. 

“I’m not wrong. You are so wet, baby. You came so much inside me last time. Will you cum as much this time?” 

Since when did you talk this dirty? You had been so shy. Where did this confidence come from? Wonwoo was in love with every side of you. The shy little pillow princess that he had fucked into the mattress last time and this vixen who was making him whimper like a puppy looking for a treat now. 

“Yeah…fuck, yeah. I will... for you. Babe…fuck me. Let me be inside you. Don’t make me cum like this, please?” 

Jeon Wonwoo was begging you. Swallowing hard, you feel the power of that rush to your brain and between your legs as arousal drips from you and onto his thighs. This was the same man that you had daydreamed at work about letting him push your skirt up and fuck you over his desk and now you’d have new daydreams. Perhaps you’d do this exact thing at work as you sat on his desk, watching him try to work. 

This man was bad for your work professionalism. 

Wonwoo’s head falls back against the headboard as you lower yourself down over him. He had missed your pussy. He had missed being inside of you. He had dreamt about it. Not only fucking you but just being inside of you. Just sitting and being warm inside your walls as he worked or watched television. You were that good. 

With your hands resting on his chest, you whimper Wonwoo’s name, feeling that now familiar stretch as he pushes his hips up to meet yours. Sliding his feet up on the bed, Wonwoo grasps your hips and lifts you up to rest your knees on the mattress on either side of him so he can thrust up into you slowly and deeply. 

Wonwoo was already close. You had put him right on the edge of his climax with your hand, and now your perfect pussy was gripping him like a warm, wet vice, and his head was spinning. Reaching down with his right hand, Wonwoo rubs his thumb between your folds and you have to bite down on your lips to stop the scream from escaping your lips with how quickly your own orgasm starts to sneak up on you. The pressure between the way his cock fills you up and the circles his thumb draws over the bundle of nerves plummets you over the edge. 

With your thighs shaking, you fall forward, your mouth resting against Wonwoo as you orgasm hard and fast. Clenching his jaw, Wonwoo breathes through the feeling of your body, milking him for every last drop he has to offer until he can’t stand it anymore and gives it to you. With a groan you are quick to silence, Wonwoo thrusts up hard, pressing his hips flush with yours as he cums as he promised, filling you just as full as he had the first time. 

Your body is weak as you rest against him, and you can’t help but laugh softly as Wonwoo’s hand runs along your back. Letting out a slow breath, Wonwoo shakes his head and starts to speak when the sound of tiny cries comes from a room down the hall, drawing your attention. 

“Jacob is awake…” 

With a look of panic in your eyes, Wonwoo watches as you quickly but carefully climb from him to rush to the bathroom as he reaches for a tissue, cleaning up the best he can before pulling on his sweatpants. The sound of tiny feet and then hands smacking your door broke Wonwoo’s heart as he glanced at your bathroom door. 

Unsure what to do, Wonwoo paces in place, meeting your eyes when you move out of the bathroom dressed in a long t-shirt. Raising his hands, Wonwoo whines as you whisper it’s okay to him and you move to the door, opening it for Jacob. 

Moving into your arms, Jacob sobs softly and mutters about scary things and a dream as you pat his back, lifting him into your arms. Watching for a moment, Wonwoo glances around the room, quickly picking up a few clothes before moving towards you to run his hand over Jacob’s hair, drawing the toddler’s attention. 

“It’s okay, little man. Your momma’s here.” 

You smile as your son sniffs away his tears nuzzling against you for a moment longer before reaching for Wonwoo, causing the man to mutter a surprised oh. 

“Yeah, okay. I got ya…  what do we—”

He looked so lost and handsome that it broke your heart. Laughing softly, you move to your bed as Wonwoo comforts your son, bouncing him gently in his arms. Pulling back the covers, you pat your bed and Wonwoo nods, moving to lay Jacob down, only for the boy to cling to his neck, pulling him towards him. 

“It’s okay, Wonwoo...  lay down with him. You are comforting.” 

Jacob whines when Wonwoo looks unsure, a panicked “Woo!” falling from the toddler's lips, making Wonwoo’s face soften as he lays down next to your son, letting the child curl up on his chest. 

“I think, for one, you remind him of his dad and for two, he really likes you. I can’t blame him.” 

His cheeks burning, Wonwoo smiles at you, lifting his hand to brush Jacob’s hair from his forehead as the boy finds a comfortable spot. 

“Just don't… I don’t wanna overstep.” 

Shaking your head, you turn off the light before sliding into the bed next to Wonwoo and Jacob, feeling a tiny hand reach for you, pulling you closer to him and Wonwoo. 

“You aren’t.”

Wonwoo can only nod as he listens to Jacob’s breath steady out. The same sound of the toddler falling asleep on the couch starts to make him feel at peace as he watches Jacob relax, and he finally looks at you as you brush Jacob’s hair with your fingers humming softly under your breath. 

He isn’t sure how long he watches you, and just listens to you softly sing your son to sleep but when you finally meet his eyes, giving him a smile, Wonwoo can’t help himself. You are the most beautiful you have ever been, just like this, and this is the most he has ever been in love with in his entire life. So he just says it...

“I love you, Y/N.”

You don’t say it back. It isn’t that you don’t love Wonwoo back; it’s that you weren’t expecting it. Especially not like this. Not while he is holding your son, looking exactly how you would love to see him for the rest of your life. You bury your mouth against your pillow, your cheeks burning as Wonwoo’s fingers brush over them and he smiles, seeming to know, before he closes his eyes, letting you off the hook for the night. 

After a few moments, you listen to the sound of Wonwoo and Jacob’s breaths as the two most important men in your life sleep, and your head spins with how lucky you are before you follow them both in both restful and restless sleep. 

Mingyu makes a face as he carefully adds the pork belly to the pot on the stove as Wonwoo leans over the island, watching him like a hawk. 

“Do you want to make the Bossam?” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo leans back and points at his rice maker, clearing his throat.

“I said I could make rice.” 

Seungcheol laughs, leaning back in his chair and listening to his friends banter. He wasn’t sure why they were all over at Wonwoo’s place hours before dinner, but if Wonwoo needed emotional support, they would provide it. 

“I’d prefer to eat something edible, Gyu, so please keep Wonwoo out of the kitchen, even if he owns it.” 

Wonwoo mocks Seungcheol as he leans over the sink, washing the rice, hearing Mingyu chuckle behind him. He was grateful they were there. He had wanted you to meet a few of his close friends. Perhaps not all of them at once, but at least a few of them, so he asked you over to dinner without thinking about what he would make or order. Lucky for him, his best friend was Kim Mingyu. 

Seokmin peeks over Mingyu’s shoulder, grabbing a piece of cabbage to snack on, only to have his hand smacked by the larger man as he curses under his breath, shooing him away. 

“Mingyu’s a jerk. I was just trying to help.” 

Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning it over to rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder as the eldest of the friend group chuckles into a sigh. There was only one of them missing tonight who had accepted the invitation, but the sound of Wonwoo’s door beeping and a loud hello announced Soonyoung’s arrival. 

Wonwoo glances over to the last of his friends to arrive as he holds up two bags with a grin on his face, feeling proud of himself. His jacket has a tiger print that makes Wonwoo groan in embarrassment as he quickly remembers that you will be there in just a couple of hours around these men that he has told you are perfectly normal and good people. 

“I brought refreshments. Seokmin told me that Wonwoo’s girlfriend will be here and probably doesn’t get to party much so I will change that.” 

Dropping the rice into the maker, Wonwoo sighs loudly before pressing the button to start the cooking before all eyes are on him, including Soonyoung. 

“It’s…look, okay? This isn’t a party. If she wants a drink, that's great, but don’t treat this like some frat party.” 

Mingyu purses his lips, putting a basil leaf into the pot, before he glances up to watch Soonyoung’s reaction to Wonwoo’s words. 

“I’m just trying to make sure your girlfriend has a good time, Wonwoo.” 

Wiping away some grains of dry rice from the counter, Wonwoo laughs at Soonyoung’s words, but the laugh is one of unamusement as he shakes his head. 

“I–we haven’t discussed what we are. I just wanted her to meet my friends—you know, my family. So just be nice to her. Just get to know her and be on your best behavior.” 

Sitting up, causing Jeonghan to have to do the same, Seungcheol clears his throat as he rubs his thighs, nodding. 

“We can do that, man. Soonyoung…lose the jacket. We’ve grown up; we can act classy for a night.” 

Wonwoo grimaces at Seungcheol’s words, especially hearing Jeonghan’s light chuckle. He wasn’t so sure but he was willing to let them try. 

“No, seriously. He ate ramen for six months before he became my roommate. It was tragic.” 

Your laugh makes Wonwoo smile, though his cheeks burn from Mingyu’s words. He should have known the conversation would turn to college and how each of them had met, but he didn’t know his friends would be so quick to air his “dirty laundry.”

“Y/N? Would you like another drink?” 

Soonyoung’s voice draws your attention, and you can’t help but coo at the man. He had been so sweet to you and made the most delicious Manhattans. Nodding, you watch him hurry off to the bar cart as Wonwoo leans back in his chair beside you, a glass of whisky in his hand that he had been nursing for some time. 

“The food was wonderful.” 

Wonwoo smiles and nods, glancing at Mingyu, who seems to shy away, turning to Seokmin to speak. 

“Compliments of our personal chef, Kim Mingyu. I swear, if he hadn’t gone into business, he would have gone into the culinary arts like Junhui.” 

You smile brightly, leaning forward to look at Mingyu as he shyly meets your eyes. He wasn’t at all what you had mistaken him for. Wonwoo had been right; the playboy persona was an act for the press and underneath it was a good soul who was going to make someone very happy one day. 

“The best food I’ve had in years. Perhaps better than what Wonwoo treated me to last week, seriously.” 

Jeonghan grins, reaching towards the middle of the table for one of the cupcakes he had provided for dessert, only to place it in front of you. 

“Don’t stroke his ego too much. Here, speaking of where you ate last week, I picked these up today for dinner. I thought you might enjoy them.” 

You watch as Jeonghan sits back down, reaching for his glass of wine, as Seungcheol, who sat on his right, reaches for a cupcake curiously. 

“What did you get, Han?” 

The man grins while watching you cut your cupcake in half, the center melting, causing you to gasp in surprise. Wonwoo just smiles, resting his free hand against the back of your chair as you pick up half of the cupcake, bringing it to your lips to take a bite, before closing your eyes in wonder. 

In that instant, Wonwoo wished the two of you were alone. It was one of those moments when he wanted to watch you enjoy something alone, but when you laugh, lifting your fingers to your lips to clean a bit of melted chocolate from them, he can’t help but smile into his own laugh. 

“Is it good?” 

You whisper a yes and nod at Wonwoo, lifting the rest of the cupcake half towards him, making him flustered as he leans to take it from your fingers as his friends watch. Jeonghan just smirks, tilting his head, feeling like his job was complete. He knew love when he saw it. He was schooled in it, having acted like he was in love hundreds of times but real love... that gave off a feeling and he could feel it even from feet away between you and Wonwoo. 

Seungcheol nods at the taste of the cupcake, muttering that it was good, until Jeonghan elbows his side and nods towards you and Wonwoo, making him shut up and smile. Seokmin and Mingyu had noticed and tried to keep their conversation low but Soonyoung, in his own world, put your drink in front of you and gestured towards it proudly. 

“One Manhattan for the lovely lady, compliments of Kwon Soonyoung.” 

Kicking his leg out, Mingyu hears Soonyoung complain about being kicked before he almost notices you giving lovey eyes to Wonwoo, and he backs off with a chuckle. 

“Oops…I’ll just—I’ll go over here.” 

Wonwoo groans, licking his lips, as the moment is ruined and you can’t help but laugh, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place. So many of Wonwoo’s friends were there and you were, in essence, being rude by monopolizing his time and making the atmosphere awkward. 

“Sorry…” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo watches you start to put your hand down as he takes your hand in his and kisses your fingers. 

“Don’t be. Enjoy your drink.” 

Wonwoo watches you after dinner as he cleans up. He can’t help but smile as you do, chuckle when you laugh at Seungcheol’s stupid jokes. He finds himself happily watching from across the room as his friends go on about how they adore you and how you are welcome to call them anytime. 

That was what he had wanted. They loved you; how could they not? He knew exactly who you were and he knew his friends. There was no way you all wouldn’t get along. 

“I just don’t have time to date. Wonwoo’s lucky; he found you. He’s always been the lucky one in our group, if I’m honest.” 

You smile at Seokmin as he leans against the back of the couch, his head on his hand as his elbow presses into the cushion. Wonwoo was finishing up the last of the cleaning with Mingyu in tow, and you had already said goodbye to Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 

Seungcheol just smiles at you, thinking how wonderful you are, as his eyes move back to one of his best friends as he laughs talking to Mingyu in the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. He was listening to two conversations when you said his name, making him look over at you fondly. 

“Hm?” 

“I was just asking if you were in the same boat as Seokmin or if there was a lucky somebody for me to hang out with at the next function." 

Grinning, Seungcheol shakes his head and sighs heavily, lifting his hands off his legs before putting them back down. 

“I guess we’ve all been wrapped up in work but I won’t lie...  Seeing Wonwoo this happy makes me wanna try.” 

Seokmin just nods in agreement, making your cheeks warm up as you look over at the man who had made you smile more recently than you could remember. 

“He’s liked you for such a long time, Y/N. He’s a good guy. I know things aren’t perfect for him, and he’d probably be pissed at me for saying this but he’s genuine.” 

Looking down at your hands as Seungcheol speaks, you just nod, understanding what he was saying, before you hear him sigh and stand up, drawing your attention upwards. 

“You’re leaving?” 

The man nods, glancing at his watch, causing you to frown. 

“It’s getting late and it’s only going to get colder. They are calling for snow, you know?” 

You hadn’t looked at the weather today, but he had made a good point. Seokmin makes a face at the idea of the cold before sighing and standing up, making you pout and follow his lead so you can say goodbye to both of them. 

Moving from the kitchen, Wonwoo looks surprised when Seungcheol offers him a hug, followed by Seokmin, who then moves to you to do the same. You really did feel like you had been welcomed into his family, and it was causing you to feel a bit overwhelmed suddenly. 

“I guess it is getting late. Let me see these guys out, and I’ll be right back.” 

Mingyu groans, looking at his phone, before moving to you to hug you tightly, causing you to laugh at how strong his grip is and yet how warm it feels. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. I like you better than him.” 

You feel Mingyu’s head move towards yours before he laughs, and you know that Wonwoo has pushed him, making you smile as he offers you a wink and all the men leave you in the large living area alone. You hear their voices trail off as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk towards the large windows that offer a view of the city for miles. 

Sighing, you furrow your brows at how cold you suddenly feel in such a large house. You hadn’t seen all of it but even in just this space, you felt out of place. You were beginning to remember how different your life was from Wonwoo’s as you started to turn from the window, only to see a bookshelf holding a vast number of books and picture frames. One in particular catches your eye. 

In the picture, you see Wonwoo, much smaller and younger than he is now, in the middle of a group of other boys. They look to be around 19 or 20 years old as they stand in front of a frat house. You look around at the other faces, and you can pick out Mingyu, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. Your lips pull up into a smile as you run your index fingernail over Wonwoo’s smiling face as Mingyu holds his shoulders and another much shorter man on his other side. 

He hadn’t always had what he has now, you remind yourself. He had told you that many times. You didn’t feel comfortable now but perhaps he hadn’t always either. Maybe it was cold and lonely at times in this big house when he was alone, and you find yourself frowning as you look at the picture, counting the men, including Wonwoo. Thirteen. He had lived with twelve others, and now he was alone. No…not anymore. 

Walking back into the room, Wonwoo stops seeing you by the window with a picture frame in your hand. He can’t help but smile a bit at how pretty you are at first, but then the smile fades as he sees the concerned look on your face when he gets closer. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Wonwoo rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down at the picture of him with his friends in college; he was still friends with all of them. They had all reached varying levels of success, like they had promised. He was proud of all of them.

“Are you okay?” 

You nod but then sigh, leaning back against Wonwoo as you put the picture back on his shelf, sliding your fingers along his arms and glancing back out of the window at the view. Wonwoo follows your eyes but he focuses more on your reflection in the window. 

“Are you lonely, Wonwoo?” 

Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo holds you closer and tightens his hand on yours as you lace your fingers with his. “No…I mean, not now. I used to be.” 

You were right. Sighing softly, you slide your free hand along his arm and shake your head as you look out at the city. Seungcheol had been right. It looked like the weather was getting worse. It looked like it was going to snow. 

“Why do you ask, baby?” 

Shaking your head again, you just smile softly, leaning your cheek against Wonwoo’s. 

“This house is so big for just you. I worried you might be lonely.” 

Wonwoo can’t help but smile at your reasoning. He loved you so much and your caring heart. Leaning to kiss your cheek, Wonwoo feels you smile again as you let out a soft breath. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

His words are spoken against your cheek as you watch the first bit of snow begin to fall. Your tiny happy gasp causes Wonwoo to look out the window as you make a happy sound, commenting on how pretty it is—the first snow of the season. 

“Mm, it is pretty, and so are you.” 

Turning in Wonwoo’s arms, you feel his fingers run along your dress at the small of your back as he smiles down at you. Your eyes meet his almost shyly, before he leans down to press his lips to yours gently as your fingers hold his face on either side with a featherlight touch. 

“I love you, Wonwoo.” 

Hearing you say the words back to him for the first time, Wonwoo freezes and smiles against your lips. He simply sighs, happily stepping in closer to you, his hands pulling your body in tighter to his as he deepens the kiss briefly before letting you take a breath so he can rest his forehead on yours. 

“Say it again.” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, as Wonwoo traces the line of your zipper up the middle of your back to your shoulders so he can pull it down as he waits for you to speak. It’s only when you tell him that you love him that he drags the zipper down. 

“I love you too. So, so fucking much.”

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[moonstruckme]

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed down to him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 

“It’s hardly quarter after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Your lashes kiss as you smile back at him, unwrapping your scarf. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to these things.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James (and by extension, Sirius) most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises.

He goes into the kitchen. A second later, you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with your string trailing all the way back to the couch. 

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 

“Mhm. You like them?” 

“Never had one.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments out of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat any. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 

“Yes!” you cheer. He laughs when you start working quicker with the needle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple of sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Awe, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not very difficult, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 

“Sorry,” says Lily as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 

“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious sound Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

“I,” Remus cuts them off, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always find you avoiding everyone’s eyes. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story about a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?���

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her home.” 

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 

“Bleak.” James looks slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you seem to have something from every person there. 

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 

“Shit, I forgot to check.” 

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, love.” 

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one, it’s his favorite,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it. You’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 

“Oh, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands.

“No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 

“That’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is hiding the bashfulness in your smile. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 

Remus smiles, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks fairly bad to me.” 

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live rather far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d rather if it didn’t come to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a massive downer for us every year.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

“Babe, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly formidable when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of fruitlessly on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you inside Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry while James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees. The look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.” 

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you. Your knees are curled towards him and he has one leg crossed over the other, angling him towards you. 

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during a scene near the end. 

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 

A while later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?” 

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 

“I want to finish the movie.” 

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 

Soon the credits start. Neither of you move. 

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. You’re my guest, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.” 

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you.

“You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 

“You can think that if you like.” 

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his. You’re warm and weighty against him. 

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb across your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 

You hum. 

“Unless you mean it’s working.” 

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 

Remus sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him.

“Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. A low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to grant access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 

“Do you want to move to my room?” 

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

You always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to Remus’ voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d asked you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating this warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees.

“You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you. 

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 

You swallow. “Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater. He tosses it onto the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress.

His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan. He kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 

“We can stop anytime you want.” 

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs out further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue. He wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, tugging feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 

Remus looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 

“Come here,” you plead. 

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise. You cup his head in one hand and wrap your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I want to. Do you?” 

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his mouth, but it’s still a bit shocking.

His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside of you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint to Remus’ touch. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 

“Come, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found underneath your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 

“Come here,” you demand again. He wastes no time in obliging you.

He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s alright if not.” 

“You can,” you say, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from Remus’ face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek.

“A little bit, yeah.”

Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 

“That was really great,” you tell him. 

“I thought so too.” 

“You’ll stay here, right?” 

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 

Remus puts on the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mind? Remus can’t even think. 

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 

“Really?” 

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 

Your eyes have widened. Remus expects his face is about five shades pinker than normal. 

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 

They’re his own words, but hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 

With his track record this morning, Remus really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did, too.” 

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with him. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is quiet. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty.

“Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically.

“Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the creek behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 

So much for opposites attract. 

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops to a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re better at hiding things than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?” 

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 

“Would you come here?” he asks. 

You comply with an eagerness he wonders how he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make up for it now. 

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your forehead. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, your chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Good.��� He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her fed.” 

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But, I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 

[trendywaifus]

↳ just wanna see my baby right outside my door!

you think you’d be alone this christmas but your girlfriend surprises you.

↳ featuring—arlecchino, kafka, shenhe, jingliu

cw: thigh riding, vaginal penetration, teasing, pet names, degradation (slut is used on kafka’s part, soft alre ( mentions of smut towards the end), strap use, kitchen sex, brat taming, i was afraid of making the fic too long so i stupidly rushed it towards the end, sorry, ( ill fix things up later.)

arlecchino was a very busy woman—which you knew from the very beginning of course. after all, she was a fatui habringer, owns an orphanage, and the list goes on. when arlecchino informed you about the plans and meetings she had during christmas eve and christmas day a few days prior, a bitter taste sits on your tongue. nevertheless, you mustered up a tight–lipped smile which your lover did not ignore and provided you words of sweet comfort and kisses.

fast forward to christmas day, you’re sitting alone in your living room, sipping on lukewarm chocolate cocoa that you didn’t really have any interest drinking. there was a bunch of presents stacked under the tree and it was mostly for her and the kids. you sighed dejectedly, placing the mug down with a frown on your face. stomach churning, tears prick your eyes, and you were quick to rub them away with your palm. perhaps you should sleep early to get rid of this awful feeling of loneliness.

a few soft, yet firm knocks at the door breaks the depressing silence. puzzled, you stand up from the couch and walked over towards the door. upon opening it, your eyes widen to see your lover standing patiently in front of you along with two fatui soldiers behind her carrying armfuls of presents. ignoring the shocked expression on your face, she gives you a gentle smile and delicately takes your hand in hers before bringing it up to her lips. “ good evening and merry christmas, my love. i apologize for not informing you about the chances of my early arrival but i wanted it to be a surprise. may we come in? “ arlecchino asks, kissing your knuckles.

you meekly nod, pulling away to step aside from the door for arlecchino and the two men to come in. “ you two, please set the presents by the christmas tree, i would greatly appreciate it. “ she requests, pointing over to the corner where the christmas tree sits; they complied with silent nods. sharp onyx eyes peers over at the boxes of gifts under the tree. she then turns over to you, her gaze softening. “ dear, are those gifts prepared for me? “

“ yes, and for the kids. “ you answered quietly. arlecchino scans your face for a short moment, noticing the redness around the corner of your eyes and the wrinkles between your brows.

“ men. “

“ yes, my lady? “ the two soldiers answered in sync.

“ take all of the gifts from under the tree and bring them to the hearth, you mustn’t drop them or damage them, do you understand? “ the sudden sternness in her voice made them flinch.

“ o-of couse, my lady! “

they quickly gathered all of the presents from under the tree. despite there being loads of them, they were able to fit all of the gifts in their arms and scramble out the door. alrechinno sighs, closing the door behind the two men and locked it. “ um, will they manage? although the trip isn’t that long, there are quite a lot of presents to carry. “

“ they better manage. that is their punishment for their incompetence. those two fools caused me a few unwanted inconveniences recently. “ she almost growled. arlecchino deeply sighs to recompose herself and gingerly lures you in by the forearm, bringing you into her arms. “ but i digress,“ she lifts her palm to your cheek and caressed the redden skin under your eye with her thumb. “ i made you cry, didn’t i, dove? “ you could hear the clear disappointment in her voice.

“ no alre, it was just. .i didn’t think you’d come, that’s all. . “ you trailed off, averting your gaze away from arlecchino’s. she lifts your chin up with a finger to guide your eyes back to hers. she leans in to kiss your cheekbone. “ i understand. i deeply apologize for making you wait and think such a thing. i promise that next year will be different. “ she whispered, brushing her lips against yours. a sense of warmth washes over you, getting rid of the bitter feeling of loneliness you previously had.

“ now that i’m here, allow me to make it up to you, dove. “ arlecchino locks her soft lips with yours in a slow, sensual kiss. you kissed back, wrapping your arms around her neck, threading your fingers in her silk snow hair. she holds you closer, running a delicate hand down your back. after a few moments, arlechinno breaks the kiss. “ dear, do you want to open your presents now? “ she asks warmly, looking down at you; red x—shaped pupils brimming with nothing but unadulterated infatuation and loyalty. the other fatui habringers say arlecchino is a wolf in sheep’s clothing—that her calm and stoic personality is nothing but a facade, and everything she does is calculated. perhaps that maybe true, but after witnessing this, you truly believe that even she is capable of love.

you held her tighter and kissed the corner of her mouth. “ no, not now. i just want you. “ arlecchino chuckled huskily, turning her head a bit to peck your lips. “ as you wish, dove. let’s transition to the couch, shall we? “ she releases you from her hold and ushers you over to the couch. she sits down, pulls you down onto her lap, and settles her inky hands on your waist. you wasted no time to press your lips against hers. she hums into the kiss, tilting her head to slot her lips between yours. your hands tugged the coat from her shoulders, causing it to pool at her arms.

“ you’re quite impatient. “ arlecchino husks as your hands skins down her bare arms, pushing the jacket further down until it’s hitting her elbows. you dragged your parted lips down her chin and neck, leaving behind open mouth kisses. her breath hitches, desire sparks within her. “ could you blame me, arle? “ you muttered against her pale skin.

suddenly, arlecchino positions her thigh against your clothed heat, causing you to gasp. “ that’s fine. if you’re going to be impatient, so will i. “ she adjusts her hands on your hips and rocked them back and forth. you moaned as your clit roughly drags against the cotton fabric of your panties and her pants. her narrowed eyes looks you up and down, itching to see the bare skin under your nightwear. “ hm, although, getting off from my thigh will do for now. i maybe impatient, but i’m not that much in a hurry to reduce you into a crying mess.”

“ merry christmas, darling~ “ kafka purrs in your ear, sliding the fat, plastic cockhead into your weeping pussy, stretching out your tight walls. her hands gripped your hips as she pushes her cock deeper into your hole. “ i-it’s soo big. “ you cried out, holding onto her back for dear life. she chuckles, dipping down to kiss away the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. kafka made you wait all christmas night, just to show up at your door with several expensive presents, which also included a custom-made strap that matched the color and design of her gloves. the fact that it was almost three inches bigger than the regular sizes she keeps, has you writhing in pleasure.

“ mhm, i know. i knew one of my special little christmas presents would make you cry tears of joy.” she grins roguishly, amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement. you hissed at her, wanting to smack, better yet, fuck that grin off that pretty face of hers. “ you’re such a little shit, kaf—ka! “ you yelped as she slides her length out of your pussy only to slam it right back in. “ not nice, you naughty girl. “ kafka playfully croons, prodding her fingers in between your bruised lips to stop your potty mouth.

“ maybe i should of stuffed your mouth with my cock first, huh? “ she muses, pounding into your pussy with sharp thrusts. you let out a muffled, broken moan as her tip grazes your cervix. your mind becomes forcefully deprived of rational thoughts as she fucks away your sanity. nothing but strangled moans and groans left your lips which were music to the stellaron hunter’s ears.

she whistles, “ atta girl. now those are the sounds that i wanna hear. “

you weakly glared up at her, digging your nails into her skin as a poor attempt to make her flinch. she shown no reaction, instead, she laughs and lifts one of your legs up, propping it over her shoulder. “ still such a feisty little thing, aren’t you? don’t worry, i’m going to fuck you until i turn you into my obedient slut. “ her cock reenters your seeping cunt in a different angle that made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.

kafka rolls her hips, pushing her cock up against a sweet spot, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure. “ mmh, that was a good one baby doll. “ she litters your face with kisses, messily smearing your skin with her lipstick. she quickens her pace, rutting you into the mattress. the delicious noise of your slick covered walls swallowing kafka’s cock with every thrust made her own pussy flutter over nothing.

by now, you’re babbling and drooling with kafka’s digits still stuffed in your mouth; sweaty face covered in lipstick. she licks her lips at the messy yet beautiful sight below her.

“ absolutely wonderful, darling. this the best present i could ever have. “

you could never be mad at shenhe for showing up at your home near the end of christmas day with just one small gift in her hand. she’s ignorant to many mortal holidays and traditions so you’re very patient with her. she handed you the little box with a shy smile on her face and explained to you that inside is a charm for fending off evil spirits and bad luck. shenhe had a little trouble with finding a gift for you which is why she was pretty late. thanks to cloud retainer and ganyu, she was able to get you the charm and bless it.

of course you also had some gifts made for shenhe, but it wouldn’t hurt to show her your appreciation first.

“ so pretty. “ you cooed, pushing back the sliver white fringes from her beautiful eyes. your hand snakes under the opening of her hip window, rubbing the toned skin underneath. her stomach flexes as your warm hand travels down and palms her heat. she sharply sucks air between her teeth, looking over at you with hazy needy eyes. “ you don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart. “ you mumbled, delving down to kiss her apple cheeks, “ let me take care of you—relax. “

you played with her clit, rubbing and grinding against the small bundle of nerves with your palm in a slow, circular motion. shenhe groans, weakly grabbing your wrist but made no attempt to stop you. you shift down towards her chest area and lifted the flap piece up, revealing her hardened nipples poking out from the black, stretchy fabric. you wrapped your warm mouth around one of the perky buds through the cloth and swirled your tongue. “ feels. .good. “ she breathed, closing her eyes as she focuses on your fingers stroking her puffy folds and your tongue teasing her nipple.

her back arches as the tip of your ring and index finger teases her entrance. “ i know a strong girl like yourself can take two at a time without prep. “ you chuckled, slowly easing your fingers inside her pussy. a throaty moan leaves her lips. she can feel your nails drag against her walls, stretching her out. “ do you want me to let you adjust or start moving? i’m fine with whatever, sweets. “

“ m-move. “ she answers without a second thought.

you slide further inside until you were knuckles deep. she lets out a soft moan as you slowly thrust your fingers into her cunt while nibbling and tugging at her other sensitive bud. your drool leaves a growing dark patch on the fabric. desperation washes over shenhe like a wave as you continued to finger her and focus your attention on her clothed breasts. “ m-more. .” she groans, looking down at you with half–lidded eyes.

“ anything for you, sweetheart. “ you moved back up to her level and sealed your lips with hers. when you curl your fingers into a spongy patch, shenhe’s self control slips.

“ surprise, surprise~ “

a familiar, soft voice whispers in your ear as a silk blindfold covers your eyes. a pair of hands ghosts over your sides and cool breath fans against the back of your neck. a chill runs down your spine. “ jingliu?” you called out, slightly nervous. you didn’t feel her presence in the kitchen or even hear her enter your home. though, you didn’t want to question it too much since she’s a master swordsman who’s always light on her feet. but you can’t lie and say she doesn’t scare you sometimes with her quiet footsteps.

“ mhm. “ jingliu hums, resting her chin on your shoulder. “ i didn’t expect you to come home so late but merry christmas. can i ask why you’ve blindfolded me? “ her hands settles at your hips, cool lips grazes your ear.

“ merely for my enjoyment, dar–ling~ i’m here to claim my present. “ she nibbles and lightly tugs on your earlobe. you swallowed thickly, holding back a soft moan as she grinds her hips into your ass, sandwiching you between her and the kitchen counter. “ aeons, i can’t even make hot cocoa without you randomly pouncing on me. “ you murmured. but, you’re still quite happy to see her since she has the tendency to wander about for days at a time.

her hand slips under the waistband of your pajamas and panties. deft, slender fingers rub your folds, causing you to squirm. “ i’m going to take you right here. ” jingliu promises, you could hear the mischievous smile in her voice. unable to see because of the blindfold, you desperately grasp for the edge of the counter as she mercilessly plays with your clit and leaves cool kisses along your shoulder blade.

you gasped as her finger circled your entrance and enters inside. “ ah—jingliuu. .” you whined, hunching over the counter as she ruthlessly fingers your pussy without any time for you to adjust. “ i haven’t even added in two fingers yet—take it. “ jingliu growls. you could feel her finger stretch you apart, nails barely scratching the sweet spot you’re utterly weak to. “ n-not so fast! “ you hissed, knees growing weak from her pace.

jingliu ignores your plea and instead, adds another finger, erupting a loud moan from your throat. she sucks the skin on the side of your neck, leaving behind a red blotch. your walls clamps around her fingers, jingliu nearly moans at the feeling. “ you’re squeezing my fingers so tight, i cannot wait to feel you do the same to my tongue. “

jingliu finally adds in the third finger, stretching your hole even further. you swear you could see stars popping into your teary vision.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)

genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes

length: 13.8k

c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)

a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all

hongjoong

the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it

it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt

there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse

and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…

if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy

“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks

when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants

“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly

your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting

gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you

but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you

hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand

you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking

until he begs for you

letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas

hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground

“oops,” you drawl coquettishly

you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass

you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest

a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten” 

“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more

he snaps

it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you

he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you

“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”

your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction

sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-

you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls

hard.

“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside

another clang, this time closer towards the entrance

there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors

“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks

“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”

a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes

just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open

“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”

“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”

numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings

you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of

“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”

at his last word, it finally clicks

“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”

meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations

you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”

“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls

you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”

you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement

hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick

“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks

then you two move

in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other

the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious

realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand

“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr

you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm

twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor

“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat

vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name

“duck!”

you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby

you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack

“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”

he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”

the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor

he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend

“duck,” you tease

hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind

moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet

the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him

you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter

“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally 

stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone

most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself

“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver

“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”

“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”

“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”

there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you

“what was that?” yunho startles

hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter

“just hongjoong having some fun”

when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple

you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking

the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him

hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”

and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth

it’s finally silent

“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were…interrupted”

at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you

he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes

you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat

he’s in front of you now

“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”

his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-

“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”

his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse

wooyoung is fucking early.

you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof

“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed

hongjoong’s clenched fists are white

uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”

he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”

you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps

“wooyoung,” he says evenly

it goes in one ear and out the other

wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”

“jung wooyoung”

said man finally blanches

good thing too

because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,

“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”

seonghwa

“remember, as soon as i leave-”

“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily

he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”

“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time

despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you

with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment

he understands though

it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now

under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again

it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side

but it’s okay - baby steps

“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”

you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave

he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it

so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood

he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment

but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor

you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back

he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home

you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom

he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness

and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house

because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before

you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six

your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside

half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa

that’s okay, you tell yourself

you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes

sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

again.

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

you glance up at the clock

it’s seven

you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life

no notifications

you try to quell the growing panic inside of you

but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home

what if something went wrong?

what if he is hurt?

what if he is missing?

what if he is…dying?

you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers

7:24 PM

the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden

you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone

the call rings and rings and rings

“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”

your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs

you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop

but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial

hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”

you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”

there’s some rustling in the background

“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”

your stomach lurches dangerously

you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone

“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”

“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”

hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base

then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”

with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call

yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation

“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location

san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim

he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”

hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”

he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa

you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again

what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger

your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class

he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage

sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself

because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever

but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down

and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder

just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling

it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful

exactly how an intruder would open a door

you know you do not have a choice

you have to protect yourself

slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath

the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open

your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are

amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity

…now.

with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head

hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring

but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper

“hongjoong, he- he’s here”

“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”

“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”

“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off

wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car

the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs

as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open

a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns

with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room

“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands

“hongjoong?”

said man falters

that’s not your voice

“the fuck?”

of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them

because seonghwa is in the living room

sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it

but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking

something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension

“surprise?”

wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter

seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”

when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels

“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave

because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile

well, surprise you he did

it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend

“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”

and you really do mean it

seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh

he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”

and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him

“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave

but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark

“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”

you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio

“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump

“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”

you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”

he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out

you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens

“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”

seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you

but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’

and then his shoulders sag once more

seonghwa wails

and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag

“the donuts are all squished!”

yunho

“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”

you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho

“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”

“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe

you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off

unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”

you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”

his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further

yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”

you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself

(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)

(you can pretend if it’s for him)

“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”

“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground

immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist

one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it

“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled

yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter

BP as in Big Puppy

“i miss you,” he admits

you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”

“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality

yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge

you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours

“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”

“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss

his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt

your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest

his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back

you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase

a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core

“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”

you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway

yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door

wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”

“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face

but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”

yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor

“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans

“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort

“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”

he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly

“what do you mean?”

yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”

and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night

it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe

“this is a date?” you had groused

yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation

“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”

yunho grins down at you

“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”

you roll your eyes at his selective hearing

(you think he’s always sexy)

at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you

“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for

when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears

watch me, he gestures with his hands

and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance

you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath

then he shoots

you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle

and then he shoots again

you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger

because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places

you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine

he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees

with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor

“look through the scope!”

you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles

hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it

and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise

“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing

because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building

“is this meant to be romantic?!”

contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now

he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”

you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug

“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”

“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side

“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”

he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”

distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported

“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder

“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours

“our cue to fucking leg it”

and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it

yeosang

“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”

you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party

it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang

yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”

as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair

it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently

not that you two weren’t already close before

and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard

except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking

but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much

“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”

once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list

you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles

the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang

he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile

“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants

“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression

you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips

yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses

you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline

“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”

as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you

“y/n? yeosang?”

hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over

grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother

“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”

you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”

except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back

“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike

yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”

“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”

you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust

your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two

and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list

yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door

the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up

that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen

“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”

seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”

“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”

hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!

except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow

“snowball fight!!”’

it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee

and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard

even during snowball fights

jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair

(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)

hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you

he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around

it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you

somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact

he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group

now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you

but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously

he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together

he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him

you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning

you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes

“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”

the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss

one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow

jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now

he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention

said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?

you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?

right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face

hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball

why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea

but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction

…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels

hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination

because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating

seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief

that is

until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”

you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel

like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother

his back is turned, body eerily still

most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver

then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”

at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again

he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”

yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”

it starts to stand up from its crouching position

“...i think it will, yeo”

hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands

what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling

you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight

hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon

“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression

“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”

san

you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are

you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den

the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life

now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later

and yet, you are not afraid

your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game

minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building

they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight

you already knew this, though

you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason

“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”

his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room

there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you

the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang

the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs

you realise now that it was a set-up all along

there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang

it was - is - crescent against you

looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”

he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops

“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”

he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall

it’s all bullshit though

you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other

without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help

“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up

he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”

the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone

but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray

“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”

a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along

the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side

the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you

“hey, sweetheart”

the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words

“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence

the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up

because they’re not foolish

they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him

and by extension-

more footsteps resound behind you

-the rest of ateez

you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den

but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den

minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in

and so do several others, it seems

you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building

for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation

san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest

the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground

from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity

“anyone else want to give that a try?” san taunts

no one answers

hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees

“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response

hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”

before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head

the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple

ateez do not need a further command

all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on

he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”

san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised

so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others

he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys

he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine

who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang

and that motherfucker minsu

san is going to make them regret hurting you

san is going to make them wish they were never born

he advances towards them with deceptive calmness

minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically

he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him

san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you

easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple

the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear

“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”

instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat

blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead

but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long

san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu

“your turn,” san smirks

whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain

san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach

minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop

“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”

minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot

san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”

“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace

you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you

“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”

he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly

you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes

“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”

a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”

san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling

when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest

you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body

“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”

amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words

“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh

“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”

“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”

and kiss you he does

mingi

for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow

even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year

you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers

admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street

but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks

you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps

sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors

your breath hitches when you recognise who it is

it’s him

the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore

it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang

his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does

“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face

your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”

you internally cringe at your own words

you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days

he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”

one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing

“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”

mingi’s shoulders relax

“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”

your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words

fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”

just as it fizzles and dies

the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence

startled, you jump slightly

you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones

he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”

you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh

“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”

his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”

he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”

you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections

“you can do that?!” you gawk

mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?

laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay

“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure

selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy

because it means that he can have you all to himself

“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”

mingi is a member of a mafia gang

snow is the least of his worries

but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway

he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low

it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug

instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping

in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip

usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep

but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget

so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life

hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found

you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands

mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background

grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy

you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you

the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing

mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body

“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it

he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too

mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity

“better?” he asks after a while

untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you

silence falls upon you two

it’s not uncomfortable

but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side

“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window

“it is…”

…with you here

“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly

you chew on your bottom lip

shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-

“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”

you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”

“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”

the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all

slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say

mingi saves you though

he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight

“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly

“merry christmas, mingi”

you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end

“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him

he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”

he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile

you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful

“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation

he doesn’t answer straight away

there’s a beat of silence

then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile

“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”

with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself

he confesses

“and i still am”

wooyoung

wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge

he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing

at this point, you don’t even bat an eye

he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift

“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”

you tilt your head, confused

“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”

“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world

you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too

apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms

…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously

“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”

you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”

you think better of your words and pause

“seem like what?”

“nothing”

“what? tell me what you were going to say!”

he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent

“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”

he stares at you

you stare at him

“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you

and run you do

filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks

you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms

sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve

“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier

you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”

it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground

“why not?”

“because my boss won’t let me”

“oh. that’s it?”

“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers

he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks

hah.

this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you

and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation

(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)

you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second

you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle

there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow

then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers

…or not-customers, you suppose

honestly, you should really be used to this by now

two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place

you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”

wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”

“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”

“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”

“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”

he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms

“the only guns i got are these bad boys”

the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously

“get in the car,” one of them snarls

wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door

he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint

you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive

his stupid gang better be real good at finding people

the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say

it’s spacious and well-cushioned

at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one

the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator

“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells

you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror

what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?

the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung

oh shit shit shit-

he raises a hand

he’s going to shoot wooyoung-

and pulls off his mask

“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”

“san?!” you screech in recognition

“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay

the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”

you are absolutely incredulous

“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”

wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”

you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation

“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”

“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you

“what about the security footage?”

“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up

“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”

“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”

now that catches your attention

sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”

wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you

“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”

at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”

“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation

“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly

you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand

“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you

there’s the faint sound of someone gagging

wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard

you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”

there’s silence

“well,” wooyoung contemplates

and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made

but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung

“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”

jongho

jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks

his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him

they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms

after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?

pathetic

their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears

several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground

elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out

it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole

double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise

pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout

your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you

the blood coursing through your veins freezes

because you know these names

these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes

they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes

but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago

your father’s death

jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-

“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief

-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems

a sense of calm settles over you

the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift

the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break

you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy

the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them

you leave

when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater

you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf

jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup

his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board

you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves

and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence

you know now that it’s never his own

when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work

like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart

he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”

your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier

“that was you?” 

the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question

“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms

“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”

his words send a hot rush right through your body

the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold

“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”

you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are

in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs

“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke

jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed

he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you

“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”

when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”

a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed

he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp

jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly

you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation

can i?

you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone

yes

his gaze turns predatory almost immediately

“my turn,” he rasps lowly

he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you

you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you

jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally

you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists

“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again

you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him

he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist

it’s not enough though

“touch me, please,” you breathe out

“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure

your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants

“please, officer,” you beg

“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear

the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts

his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them

he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you

your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh

but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear

the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him

“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”

you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants

“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”

“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps

“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”

he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes

he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs

you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you

it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body

he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation

“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”

he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger

“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression

“i need y-”

he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you

you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole

“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you

he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found

a pressure starts to build in your core

“i’m close,” you manage to choke out

you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”

“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead

“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour

you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”

“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him

you can’t do it anymore

you have to cum

you have to-

“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit

your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers

jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-

just as the timer on the stove goes off

“what the fuck?” you blurt out

your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove

jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup

after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm

you watch, rendered speechless

except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason

he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt

“round two, baby”

he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse

you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest

settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground

he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection

your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out

he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him

jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build

his voice is low and teasing

“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”

[swe3tte4rs]

Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊

" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids

Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)

Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all

And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!

Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀

Let us begin.

I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.

Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.

But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…

Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!

When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)

Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.

I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.

He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.

I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)

"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Another drama queen...

A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)

He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.

But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...

I bet he's the most sensitive of all.

He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.

Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.

I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)

"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.

He even gets jealous of Bruce.

He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!

He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...

Tim Drake / Red Robin

( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)

Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.

He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.

I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy

But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.

He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.

Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...

Damian Wayne / Robin

Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.

He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.

The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.

Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.

At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.

If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)

"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.

There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…

"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.

He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.

Mama's boy

I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???

Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.

Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.

She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.

Although sometimes she doubts…

She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.

But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.

0,1% jealous.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

Depends…

I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.

In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I need to read more about this man 😭

He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.

Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.

Although he is a similar case to Cass.

He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.

But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.

[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

[b0n3s-is-gay]

What the Outsider Boys would want for Christmas (Masterlist -> here)

Darrel Shaynne Curtis:

Darry, if he were to want one thing for christmas. He would tell you he doesn't want anything. But he actually wants a night of quiet, a night free of worries.

While it's really more of a gift for the gang, like going out on your dime and having a good time while you and Darry are at home alone. He's going to take advantage of that night.

Dinner date in, cuddling while watching a movie on the couch, taking a bath together, and if you're lucky, a passionate night that isn't just a quiet quickie.

Keith "Two-bit" Mathews:

Two bit? Well, twobit wants many things. Maybe a bottle of booze or a mickey shirt. Both are good options, but he want to have a new jacket.

Don't get him wrong, he loves his normal jacket, but he wants a winter jacket. His leather one doesn't do much in terms of winter protection.

It doesn't even have to be a good jacket, it can be second hand and he will still be greatful.

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

Bail, bail money.

On a serious note, get him a pet. I think Dally is alone with his thoughts a lot and it's scary for him. As we saw in the movie and in the book, he's on a hair trigger about if he's going to end his life. So I like to think he needs constant companionship.

A basset hound would be the best breed for him because those dogs are the best company and they will take all your attention away from your thoughts, in Dally's case, it's needed.

Steve Randle:

Same as Two-bit but for a different reason. Steve wants a new jacket simply because he doesn't have one.

His dad is abusive, Ponyboy said so himself. So his dad has probably given him the bare minimum and everything else he has has been bought with his own money or hand me downs from the Curtis's.

A winter jacket would go far for him as those types of jackets cost an arm and a fucking leg. He'll also be even more appreciative if it's a size or two too big so he can grow into it and get many years of use out of it.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis:

I think Soda would be happy with anything. But if you asked him, he'd tell you a chain. If you asked him on a deeper level, he'd tell you a simple chain so he can wear his parent's rings close to his heart.

Sodapop has his parents' rings, he holds them close and sometimes you can see him wearing his dad's ring on his left middle finger as it's too big for his ring finger.

If you got him a chain and then helped him loop his parents' rings around the chain, he'd cry. A hug from them would always be worth more, but just having their rings close to his heart.

Johnny Cade:

A blanket, that's what he wants for christmas. He wasnts a blanket that's only his.

Johnny has a shitty home life, fuck you Mr. and Mrs. Cade, and he's often left to sleep out in the lot or the Curtis household. Plus, if there's a chance you make the blanket by had or you spray it in your purfume/colonge, he will cry.

That's all he wants, he'll use it every day. He'll lay awake at night and smile when he thinks back to how he got the blanket.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis:

Pre book, he'll want some new track spikes. Post book, he'll want a copy of Gone With The Wind.

Post book, I think Ponyboy would quit track. Everytime the starter pistol sounded, he'd flinch and be reminded of Dally, so he quit track. So a copy of Gone With The Wind would be the best gift for him.

Reading this book would remind him of his time with Johnny. When he unwraps it, he looks at the picture of Johnny and Dally on the mantle and smiles somberly. He then gently hugs you and whispers his thanks, trying to resist the urge to read out loud for you like he did for Johnny.

Tags: @witchyleehibernates

[rowdyluv]

ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ǫʜ⁴³

summary: in which Quinn and Y/n go to her childhood home for Christmas.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff, fem!reader, mother misunderstands reader’s reaction, [trigger warning: alludes to loss of pregnancy, minor/brief discussion of fertility complication], use of random names for characters (sister, brother-in-law),

notes: if I missed any warnings please kindly tell me I don’t think I missed any but always possible. picture at the end will make sense once read. ☺︎︎

© property of rowdyluv ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

“Oh I can’t believe Dad did all this!” Y/n gasped and grabbed at Quinn’s upper arm as he was pulling into the driveway. The outside of Y/n’s childhood home was adorned with Christmas lights and the yard had an inflatable Santa with Rudolf. “He used to do this for me and Leora growing up.” Her eyes were crinkled in the corners from smiling so brightly.

Quinn grabbed their bags out of the car and headed up the walkway to the front door. None the wiser that she had stopped to take a picture to send off to her older sister of the old blow up that graced the front yard. He soon realized she wasn’t by his side when he was first greeted with hugs making him tense at first, a bit uncomfortable.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn!" Y/n's mother beamed as she pulled him into a warm embrace. The smell of gingerbread wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the signature comforting perfume of her mom. “We are all so happy you could join us here this year! We are so excited to have you two home for Christmas.” Quinn felt the tension ease from his shoulders and relax from her greeting.

“Merry Christmas, Momma!” Y/n yelled from behind Quinn trying to shuffle around him to get to her.

Her mother released Quinn and wrapped her daughter in her arms. “Look at you two all dressed alike for your travels!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with joy as she pulled back to look at them both. “Look sweetie, they have matching Christmas sweaters!” Her mother yelled over her shoulder towards Y/n’s father while also ushering the two in. “Do you remember when we were their age, just two kids so in love we couldn’t stand it?”

Quinn took a moment to appreciate the warmth of the house, the soft glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off the family photos lining the walls, framed certificates that had been earned by Leora or Y/n through the years, and low hanging taped coloring pages. He watched as Y/n disappeared into the kitchen to help her mom, her need to catch up with her mom showing. It wasn’t long after that her sister, and co arrived. Their ever curious two-year-old daughter toddled over to Quinn, her eyes wide with curiosity towards the stranger. He knelt down, offering a gentle smile.

“Hi! Bye!” She said loudly into Quinn’s face, waved nearly smacking him before toddling off to her grandpa.

“I am so sorry about that, she is in a “there is no stranger danger” phase right now. Name’s David, Leora’s husband.” David apologized and stuck his hand out to Quinn to shake. Quinn, the ever socially awkward person shook his hand but forgot to introduce himself. “I’m going to guess that you’re the ever famous Quinn we hear about all the time?”

“Right. Sorry man, yes. M’Quinn, I’m Y/n’s boyfriend.” Quinn cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

He searched the room for his girlfriend hoping he could meet her eyes and plead with her to come to him, but she was yet to resurface from the kitchen. He couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place amidst this flurry of familial affection. He had only been able to meet Y/n’s parents a few times, and while they were very welcoming, he was still the outsider at their intimate gatherings. Her parents loved him and accepted their relationship, but with the two of them living in a different country than the rest of her family, it hinders the process of getting to know them better.

David had to sprint off after his toddler to keep her out of the presents and Y/n’s sister was now in the center of the living room, cradling her freshly changed and back to sleeping three month old son.

“Quinn, do you.” Y/n’s eyes caught a hold of her older sister and her baby nephew.

The sight of Leora with the baby boy brought a new level of excitement to Y/n’s eyes. She nearly squealed and rushed over.

“Lee, can I?” Y/n’s voice was soft, warm, but held a hint of longing buried deep behind it. Her sister handed over the tiny bundle of joy with a knowing smile, and Y/n's heart swelled.

Y/n’s soft gasp spread across the room as she took her nephew into her arms. Y/n's eyes searched for any sign of resemblance between Leora and the tiny baby, her fingers tracing the soft lines of his face. He stirred slightly at her touch, his tiny eyes blinking open to reveal the same shade of brown as his mom’s. Y/n whispered a proud, "Hey there little man, I’m your auntie," and his eyes locked onto hers. At the most perfect time his muscles twitch causing him to smile at her.

“Quinn, come look.” Y/n called and he moved cautiously. He was already taking in so much, feeling so much in that moment. It was a moment that seemed to freeze time for Quinn, watching his girlfriend hold something so tiny and fragile like it was the most precious thing in the world. Watching her mask how badly she wants that life for herself. Quinn was feeling the weight of this moment in the millions multiplied by his Christmas gift for her.

"Honey, why don't you two go sit in the rocker?" Y/n's mom suggested, noticing the way Y/n's eyes never left the baby. She knew that look all too well, it was the same look she had when she finally held her daughters for the first time. “It’s down in your all’s old room.”

“Can I?” Y/n asks her sister hopefully, after all the small human in her arms isn’t hers.

With a simple smile and a nod of approval y/n carried him into the room that used to be hers and her sister’s sanctuary. The rocking chair, a well-loved piece of furniture that had seen countless bedtimes and stories, sat back in its rightful place in the corner. Y/n settled into it, her body moving automatically with the gentle sway as she held her nephew close.

Quinn slowly followed her down the hall, unsure if he could handle another sight of her so domestic.

In the room, Y/n's voice was a soft lullaby, humming the familiar tune of "You Are My Sunshine." The rocking chair creaked rhythmically, echoing the steady beat of her heart. She sat in the glow of the Christmas lights that had been strung across the ceiling, casting a warm, nostalgic ambiance over the space. The baby's eyes grew heavy as he listened to the sweet melody that had filled this room so many times before. Y/n's mother looked on from the doorway with a knowing smile, her own eyes misting over with tears.

Y/n’s mom had sensed something was different. She just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was with her daughter. She could sense that something has shifted in her in the last year or so and seeing her with her nephew only solidified her thoughts.

“When were you all going to tell me?” Her mother softly asked, grabbing ahold of Quinn’s hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “I would have been on the next flight to Vancouver. I’m sure she told you I had tro-.”

With wide eyes and nearly choking on his intake of air he startled her quiet mid-sentence when he looked at her so fast.

“No, no, this is just her longing for her own family..She wants her own family so badly and I want a family with her.” Quinn explained. “I will do whatever it takes to give her whatever she wants, we’ve discussed it. Even been to a specialist to ease her mind.”

Y/n’s mother nodded, she was shocked she misunderstood what her daughter was portraying, she thought she knew that look in her daughter’s eyes well, she was so sure it was the same one she had before she finally had her own children. Watching the different looks cross Y/n’s mother’s face Quinn took a deep breath before his next words fell, “I talked to your hu..”

She cut him off this time. “I know honey. Hard part is talking to her.” She patted him on the back and headed back down the hall, sending y/n’s brother in law after the baby. “Don’t wait any longer!” She whisper-yelled back to Quinn.

David poked his head into the room, “Hey, you okay?” He nodded towards the baby in Y/n’s arms, “He’s probably looking for a bottle, he’s usually hungry around this time.”

“But he’s asleep?” Y/n countered.

“Oh yeah.” He racked his brain for a different reason than a bottle. “Let me take him and check his diaper at least. Momma sent me in here don’t want to come out with out the baby.”

Y/n looked down at her nephew and her heart swelled. She didn’t want to let him go, but she knew her sister would let her have him again before her and Quinn left. She kissed him on the forehead and passed him over to his daddy.

Quinn took a deep breath as he leaned against the door frame. He admired the warm glow from the Christmas lights and the way they cast a soft halo around Y/n once more.

“Hey sweet girl, how about you come with me?” Quinn asked her.

She looked up from her lap and met his soft gaze and smiled at him before meeting him in the doorway.

Quinn led her to the formal living room that had been left untouched by the Christmas chaos of the toddler. The large Christmas tree in front of the window was the only thing that took up space in the room. They sat down together on the plush couch, the colorful lights from the tree casting a glow around them. Y/n leaned into him and took a hold of his hand playing with his fingers like she always does when they cuddle on the couch, basking in the comfort of his presence.

He took in a deep centering breath before starting to spill his heart out.

"You know, I'm not very good at expressing how I feel or remembering to tell you just how much you mean to me," Quinn began, his voice low and earnest.

"That was a constant struggle for us, wasn’t it?” She whispered and pinched his hand for effect. Quinn let out a little yelp of pain before continuing what he was trying to say.

“But I need you to know you’re the other half of my heart, the one that keeps me going even when I'm miles away from home." His words were met with a soft sigh from Y/n as she nestled closer. "I can't imagine a Christmas without you by my side."

He paused and sat her upright so he could look her in the eyes.

“No. Not just Christmas without you, but New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, uhm uh, what comes next?” He started to stutter and stumble over his words. “Whatever it is, I don't want to do it without you. I haven’t had to in a while now and I don’t want to start now, okay?”

“Quinn, where is this coming from?”

“From my heart, where you’ve been living in since the first day we met.” He replied, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumb traced the line of her jaw as he continued. “You’ve given me more joy, more comfort, more love than anyone I’ve ever known. And every time I hold your hand, or kiss your forehead, or see your smile light up the entire rink when we see each other at warmies. God how you just were with your nephew, how I know you’re going to be with our. I know that this is where I’m meant to be, with you, forever. And I want to make that promise to you, in front of everyone who loves you, who loves us.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any doubt, but there was none to be found, only love, pure unadulterated love. Quinn was moving to the floor to kneel on one knee when she grabbed at his face.

“Yes. A thousand times over. In a different universe yes. In a different time period yes. God you could have asked me 24 hours after we met and I would’ve said yes.” She felt her heart beating faster than ever before she was talking so fast and not taking a break in between her words.

“Sweetheart you didn’t even let the poor boy ask!” A sweet frail female voice rang out. Quinn looked over his left shoulder and Y/n peaked right his shoulder.

“Hi Granny.” Y/n giggled.

Her grandmother’s announcement got the attention of the rest of her family giving Quinn an audience. “Alright young man, get on with it I’m hungry!” A huskier, grumpier voice huffed out.

“Pappy! Let him be.” Leora scolded. A couple “shhhs” rang out and finally the silence was deafening. Quinn was positive his heart beat could be heard.

He readjusted himself to down on the carpet on one knee taking in a calming breath. Looking into Y/n’s eyes.

“Y/n, I’ve love you. Your spirit, your heart, your soul, they’re all so bright and beautiful. You light up any room you walk into, you make me want to be a better person. You’re the one who’s always been there for me, through every up and down. You’re my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Much to her Pappy’s satisfaction he finally popped the question, his voice shaky although he knew that she already said yes before he asked, as he opened the small velvet box to reveal a sparkling sapphire gemstone aside an opal gemstone in the shape of hearts.

Without needing to answer again she still whispered a soft yes with a bright smile as Quinn slid the ring on her finger. She fell to her knees and once again grasped his face. She kissed him softly and with as much love as she could convey in one simple kiss.

“Quintin Jerome Hughes, I love you with everything that I am.”

[yangcherie]

mating season

𐀔 pairings: astarion x reader. karlach x reader. halsin x reader. background cast (wyll, shadowheart, lae’zel, gale) x reader. background rolan x tav.

𐀔 content warnings: tiefling!tav, LITERALLY PWP, alcoholic consumption, brief sexual memory (halsin), heavy petting, noncon to dubcon (with astarion only), slight slutshaming, oral (f!receiving), mentions of breeding, afab anatomy but g/n pronouns. astarion is very slightly, slighty mean, up to you if he is ascended or not.

𐀔 sypnosis: you, a tiefling, go through your first heat cycle around your companions. some are willing to either indulge you or take advantage of you.

𐀔 author’s note: hoppinh on the bandwagon of tieflings having heat / rut cycles. astarion, briefly halsin, ROLAN and karlach get some action, teehee. and don't worry. everyone is a pervert and thinks about it. everyone will get a chance. someday. merry christmas!!

The first thing everyone wakes up to is heat. Sweltering, palpable heat, pervading the air up to the point it felt like it was trying to smother them, casting annoying, relentless burnishes of perspiration on their skin.

It couldn’t be the sun, no. The warmth felt too close, within of reach – but even then, it was no lively and unextinguished campfire, no engine out of hand nestled within Karlach, Shadowheart concluded.

They’d all been taking turns the entire morning seeking cold relief in the stream. Thankfully, as the day prevailed, the sun was no longer so glaring, the heatwave lessening by a tad bit, the rest of the party excluding a certain Ravenguard had found it now bearable.

It wasn’t until Wyll was fed up with the sweat that would inevitably come no matter how much he wiped at it, marching towards where it felt most blistering, most fervent; the intense source.

It had led him to your tent — and without doubt, the demon believed the source was your tent; your fucking otherworldy furnace of a tent. Even as he stood from outside, the heat was practically choking him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he took a look inside and finds out you, little fiend you, stuffed the entire Nine Hells inside. And take a look inside he does, peeling away the entrance, a delirious but polite request to turn down the heat ready on his tongue —

But it isn’t the Nine Hells’ heat and musk that slaps him to his face, to his utter surprise.

It’s you; trembling, flushed raw and in all of your fiendish glory, naked. Tail loud and thumping on the floor as your whimpers permeate through the air, legs spread and — No!

Somewhere in the back of his horned head, he wonders if it’s the heat, the shock, or simply his building arousal that has rendered him stuck to his position. It takes Wyll all his strength he can muster to tear his eyes away; what was he doing? He was intruding on your tent— your privacy! How could he forget basic etiquette, so much for being a noble-!

(Without a doubt, he’s ruined his chance of any traditional courtship.)

“Sorry.” The Blade himself awkwardly coughs before pushing himself out of your tent with an inhuman force, slamming the fabric entrance shut and tripping on his own two feet on the way out. “It’s Tav!” He shouts, sprinting with little idea on where to; the heat is unbearable and by the gods, he isn’t so sure anymore if it was coming from your tent or if it was simply his body. His commotion with Tav gathers the attention and eyes of his fellow companions, and it is both Karlach and Shadowheart that push at him to settle him down.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you!” Karlach, ever the concerned companion with her furrowed brows, assures him like steed. “Tav, you mentioned?” Shadowheart, upon quick confirmation that he was not injured, is quick to coax him for answers of his behavior. He’s a bit mortified as his little flustered fit had everyone around him.

“Tav, they’re– get this–” Wyll swallows, tense with the image of you squirming and dripping still on the front of his mind. “T-they’re hot.”

It’s a dreadful thing, he realizes later a split second more than he’d like, the silence that follows. Through the tadpole, they’ve seen what he’s seen; and judging from the atmosphere, they’re chalking it up to an active imagination. All but loud, with a lone cricket chirping in the distance. He shoots up to in an attempt to explain, but wordlessly splutters instead.

“So you’ve had your first wet dream, I take it?” Astarion scoffs, finding the dirt under his manicured nails more interesting than what the fiend had to say next. “Had an issue with morning wood, perhaps– or should I say, a hardened blade?”

“No!” Wyll refutes, now standing up with the help of Shadowheart. “I-I meant to say they’re hot, literally. They’re drenched with sweat, lookin’ like they’re about to keel over. You saw it, in my head, what they looked like!”

“Ah, yes.” The vampire recalled that vision. Though brief and concerning, yes, it was also undeniably delectable. What he wouldn’t give to have seen you writhing with want up close. But still, he slips his desperation behind a theatric mask. “Like a mutt in heat, how hilarious.”

“In heat.” Karlach had repeated Astarion’s words and bristled, her muscles twitching once but violently enough that it had them staring at her like they had been with Wyll. The look on her face tells everyone she’s had her eureka moment, a light flickering beside her head. “Tav is in heat. Of course they are; it’s breeding season!” She guffaws then, disregarding the disbelief of the party — save for Halsin, who simply nodded.

“So what you’re saying is we have a feral, unspayed animal amongst us for the time being?” Lae’zel grunted, though she certainly did not mind if the blush on her face was anything to go by.

“Mating season is upon most of the forest.” The druid responded, crossing his thick arms, ever the calm elf. “Given the... more animalistic features of some cambions, it is not entirely unreasonable. Given the intensity, it must be their first heat since you’ve all been on this journey.” The party gapes; Karlach nods, and though she does not mention it, she’s mildly disappointed your heat had not aligned with her rut.

“So, what you’re both saying is that they need to breed – or be bred?” Though the vampiric rogue balked, he was unable to deny the inkling of lust that washed through him at the idea. You, and your all proud visage crumbling into one of a desperate, slut of a fiend.

“Well, when you put it in such a frank and vulgar manner...” Gale coughs, flushed, Astarion notices, inwardly grimacing. The wizard’s never been discreet about liking your musk – and today, it is especially honeyed and heavy around the campsite. “Yes.”

And that’s when it hits the rogue, the shared tension and ignited lust in everyone – not just Gale. It’s a slow and heavy shift, like puffs of smoke. The current of lust in the air runs deeper when a small, inviting moan permeates from your tent. The sounds of heavy breaths and trousers shifting from around the party, it all goes unobserved to any eye that doesn’t belong to an experienced rogue.

Still, the rest would’ve been fools to think only one or two of them would be intrigued, he thought. It was with a silent agreement amongst them that by the end of this week, you’d be thoroughly savoured.

The first thing you wake up to is a dull ache across the expanse of your stomach, and a pool of your own arousal drenching the bedroll between your legs. Your bed-kissed face tightens, glaring down at the growing tension in your belly. A groan is torn out of your dehydrated throat – and if the obvious lack of sun on your tent was anything to go by, you’ve slept through nearly the entire day.

Fuck, what was going on? Distoriented, you attempt to sit up only for the dull ache to morph into heated convulsions that immediately spread like wildfire around your weakened body. It was then that you realized that to your utter horror, you were burning hot, to the Nines and beyond — as if you were forcefully thrown into an early heat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. The edges around your vision blackened for a split second before you violently lurched yourself out of your too-warm, too-cramped tent, slamming your palms and knees into the dirt ground and digging your nails in, your mouth open to welcome the hot pants stuck in your dry throat.

You spat out a vicious string of Infernal curses, your focus blurring in and out of itself. You shut your mouth, biting your lip to keep in whimpers, sweat trickling down from your forehead as your mind fought in vain against the primal urges now closing in on it; the feral ache for relief deeming itself more important than reason.

Relief. Fuck, it sounded good right now. You hissed, your mental resolve crumbling, tail furiously lashing against the dirt. Relief. Your eyes darted around the camp anything that could relieve the heat in your loins; Shadowheart and her healing hands or a cool river stream to let the water wash over you, but fuck, you needed real relief. A body you could sink your teeth into and ride until the next morning �� preferably Karlach, or Halsin–!

Thick, strong Halsin.

“You feel good, little one.” Halsin quietly groaned up from above you, touching you as if he’s been longing to.

He moves inside you; thick cock bruising your insides. Every open-mouthed gasp and hurt or pleasured cry was eagerly welcomed into his own mouth with wet kisses. He was unrelenting, but kind. Full of sinew your hands could run across or scratch in slight distaste if the fat tip of his length pressed a sensitive spot deeper than you’d have liked. And without fail, he had laughed everytime, gentle and light, even if his deep thrusts into your spent hole were anything but.

He must have been trying to burrow in you with how deep he was inside, letting you raggedly cry into the slope of his neck meeting the thickness of his shoulder. Halsin set out to plant an apologetic kiss into the crook of yours, fucking you deep until you fluttered around him, dragging him to his peak alongside you.

No, you winced, tearing your eyes open and your mind out of its lust-ridden gutter, the burn inside you relentless. No Halsin nor Karlach, not a single soul that could provide you relief to be found around camp — and damn them all, you were in no state to be crawling around searching for even the slightest whiff of their scent in gods know where.

Relief.

Yet another infuriating wave of heat rolled through you, forcing you to clench your hands and drive dirt beneath your nails. What remained of your rationality sought out to the crevices of your memories, ones that weren’t flooded of nightly trysts with the druid elf or — Rolan.

Relief – Rolan. A drop of your drool hitting the ground; Rolan with his horns you could grip and sharp teeth that could sink into your shoulder. No doubt warmly cooped up in Ramazith’s Tower, signing trades or shoving his nose in dusty books. He’d do, for tonight – he’d understand, indulge you and lift you from the unbearable heat clouding your head. He wouldn’t mind, you know it, because you’d be a blind fool to not see the way his eyes would fondly trail over your face, or the dips in your body.

He wants you, and for tonight, you will do him a favor and want him back.

You urge your trembling body to stand up and begin the treacherous trek from camp to the Gate’s city.

It was only the next night, moon high, that you sauntered into camp instead of out your tent, sporting a relieved glow, a fresh set of bites around your throat, a heavy limp, and of course, the hands of a flushed Rolan around your waist.

Your ragtag party watched from their campfire logs, a petty and envious air about them whilst the winsome smile on your face turned into an airy laugh as Rolan tenderly cupped your jaw with his hands, whispering something that had you curling your tails together. You shook your head and sweetly pecked his cheek as he nodded and bumped your horns together like lovers as a bid goodbye before stepping back to part ways.

“Well?” Karlach greeted with an amiable smile as you joined the group’s circle, having been worriedly sniffing around and asking for you the entirety of the morning; your scent lingering faintly around the air but with no continued path as to exactly where you were. She knew firsthand the extent of pain and delirium heats could bring, and god forbid you had fallen in the wrong hands.

(And thankfully, you hadn’t. She was simply glad you found someone trustworthy to mingle with instead of being alone.)

You scooched near her with a charmingly teasing grin, matching her liveliness, turning a blind eye to the tension in the air. “Well, what?” And before the red-skin tiefling could play banter with you, a certain rogue had pettily overtook the conversation.

“Well, did you enjoy your little fling?” Astarion dryly teased, a goblet of wine in his spindly hands and a sardonic smile on his face. He let the wine swivel for a moment. “Enjoyed playing charity, whoring yourself out?”

Karlach quietly called out his name in a disappointed manner, either to scold or deter him from what next he could say.

“What can I say?” You entertain his snark, peeking around the campfire logs for a bottle of blingdenstone blush wine; grabbing ahold of ot and pouring yourself a goblet. Taking a gracious swig, you allow the fruity taste to melt on your tongue. “My company is sought after.”

“Sought after? You amuse me,” The pale elf laughs, dry in a manner that has you eyeing him, his hand tightening around the rusted goblet whilst you set down yours. “Are you sure?” He asks, glaring. “I’d say it’s desperation, on your side of the coin – you’d spread your legs to anyone asking politely, darling.”

You scrunch your nose at that, the warmth and flavor of the wine turning cold and bitter in your throat.

The silence is almost hostile around the campfire – the crackling of it serving to make it less awkward. “Take that damn wine out his hands,” you hear Wyll whisper to a reading Gale and a Lae’zel sharpening her dagger – but both the wizard and githyanki don faces that tell you they aren’t approving of your escapade either. You allow your eyes a brief roam around all their faces; finding it tightened in displeasure.

You don’t feel so well, all of a sudden. Some part inside you chalks it up to the wine.

Save for Karlach who was nudging you with her tail, pleading you from the corner of her eye; asking you to back down from Astarion. Considering it was an option until he opened his mouth once again, his breath smelling of merlot wine. “You’re missing out, you know.” He hisses when you raise him a brow.

“These flings you have,” he eyes around the party, making sure to pointedly look at Halsin for a second longer. You’re half-sure he’d vex Rolan if he was here. Slurring, he pauses again to savor another sip from his wine. “They can’t give you something real.” Your eyes meet his, hesitant, reading the unsaid but he can in them.

“You...” You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the light, the fire shedding a hopeful glint in his eyes for a split second at your tender tone of voice, face softening at the way you curl in yourself. “You’re drinking too much.” And just as quickly as it came, it left.

Something heavy twists in your gut; and you can’t quite decide if it’s from the wine, the second wave of your heat, or distress. Silently pushing yourself off the log, you might as well to take that soak in the river that you’d been dying for.

(You’re not very surprised to feel the many eyes piercing through you.)

Shortly after you left the circle, Karlach had followed you, indiscreet. It’s a game of chase, really – and she’s hot on your tail but you just keep evading her when she thinks she’s got you, a hairsbreadth away from her hands. The way your shoulders tremble with little laughs from your lips are not missed by her, and if she were any closer she’d chase it with her own.

(She smiles, not seen through the dark mouth of the night. Was it her presence or the alcohol that has made you soft?)

It’s not a long trek to the lake by any means, the path obscured by dense foliage she’d occasionally lose you in. Within moments, she’s at the edge of the water with the gravel crushing beneath her boots, overtaking the slow stream of water you’re delicately undressing by. Her longing gaze lingers on the slope of your jaw, the fullness of your lips and the fresh, deep indents of teeth along your shoulder. She’s unsure of whether it’s from Astarion’s feeding or Rolan.

It’s only when you’re fully bare that you turn to face her, that same plush smile that’s melted the hearts of hundreds.

“Are you joining me?” The sweet lilt of your voice makes the gears stop turning in Karlach’s nodding head, her body moving before her mind to start peeling away at her own clothes at the appealing invitation; wading into the water with you as soon as she’s done. A snort is pulled from her when you playfully splash at her with your tail when you hear her behind you.

“Don’t play a game you can’t win, you little...” Karlach jovially returns the splash, inwardly rejoicing at your giggle; this little, shared intimacy is nothing new, but it makes her heart lurch all the same. What she wouldn’t give to have more time with you.

By the gods, she could never get enough of that you and your joy. Some selfish, unbidden part of her hopes you’ll take her up on Wyll’s offer on the path to Avernus, for the sole reason to see it just a little longer.

She shifts around for a topic to hear your voice a little more, “How is your heat coming along?” The smile on your face falters slightly at her choice of inquiry – but you relax instantly. She’s one of your dearest friends, concern is her second nature.

“When is it never dreadful?” You shrug, casual though your words ring true. An unmated tiefling’s pain during a rut or heat was nothing short of agonizing. She watches the nervous swallow bob in your throat. “But I had a little bit of help- from Rolan.”

“Ah, the new master of the tower, was it?” You nod at her, and it comes to you once again that Karlach was no jealous woman. She was glad you had your fill of enjoyment. “He looks smitten with you; are you courting him?”

“Huh?” Your tail whacks against the relaxed surface of water in disbelief, a flush festering on your disgruntled face. “It’s more like the other way around, he bumped his horns to mine earlier.”

Karlach guffaws at your distress, tearing up with her joy until her breath catches on a sweet aroma. She squints, cautiously sniffing the air, once, twice – and she looks to you, pursing her lips when she realizes it isn’t the fragrances you’re washing over yourself; it’s just you, or rather, the second wave to your heat. She hopes the hunger welling in her isn’t clear in her eyes.

You smell really good, she thinks as she chews on the inside of her cheek, staring at the dip of your back as your turn around. And you’re a really good friend, too good, maybe. She feels what she’s about to do isn’t very good.

Karlach doesn’t know what compels her to do what she does but she follows like it’s law; catching your wrist in her hand, capturing your jaw in her other and kissing you tender, swallowing the gasp that comes out.

It’s only when the air starts to feel thick with your heat and her lust that she pulls away, a string of spit following you both – and she’s already pulling away, horror welling up in her eyes but before she can grovel with apologies, you’re reeling her right back to your spit-slick lips with a moan so utterly full of want it has her pulling you closer.

“I can help you,” she murmurs against your taste before pulling away, your want reassuring her she’s got nothing to be sorry for. Your heaving breasts press against her face when she dips half of herself in the water to wrap her arms around your legs. She pleads. “Let me help you. Please.”

Karlach carries you with her muscled arms and settles you on the edge of a rock, softly parting your legs for you and making herself a warm home between them. The way she looks up at you gives you a bashful knot in your stomach.

“Do you want this?” She swallows thick, as if to wash away the heavy weight of her need, eyes situating her hands on your hips with a trembling but still dominant grip. “Use your words.”

You nod, frantic. Breathy pants now visible in the hot air. “I do,” your tongue feels weak when you speak, looking at her with dazed eyes. “P-please, I- I want it, Kar.”

It’s all the push she needs to lick a stripe up your slit, rendering you still when she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. It drags a heavy moan out of you and it’s nothing but music to her ears. She hopes it’s the sound that greets her in the afterlife instead of angels with their harps or trumpets.

“Ahah,” Karlach pants, hot against your clit, and you look down to see your slick running down her chin, her tail pulling you closer by your calf while yours whips around. “You taste so fucking good.” She murmurs against you, sending an arrow of pleasure straight through your trembling spine that makes her dive right back in, tracing your fluttering hole.

She tongues inside your hole, moaning when it tightens around her, fucking and writhing it around in response.

If the heat wasn’t so heavy, you’d think she was tracing her name on your cunt. You huff, rocking your hips into her face as much as you can with her hands firmly clasped around your hips. Your hands find themselves around her horns and they gently pull her head closer to you, riding her face as if to help brace you for the knot snapping in your stomach.

Karlach takes a moment to pause, smiling with your heady flavor on her lips, chuckling against your core. “So needy.”

You don’t last long, not with her smile and teeth and tongue around your folds, no, and it’s a blind rush of time and hot white when your thighs tremble around her head, mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

“Karlach...!” You cry her name, cumming and convulsing around her tongue with open-mouthed moans. Her grip on you tightens, an Infernal curse leaving her as your slick taste floods her mouth. Her hands run over you, the small of your back, your hips and then to your ass, gripping the fat of it to keep you still while she laps at what little you have left to give; only giving in when you whimper and try to kick her away.

(In the rational crevices of your head, you’d hate to prove Astarion right about being a whore but fuck, does she make you feel good.)

It’s soft silence that fills the air, after you both cease your panting. You stare at the stars, head foggy with the orgasm that racked your body, humming when Karlach gently sets you in her arms again to wash your arousal away in the water while your head contentedly lies against her shoulder.

“Let’s get you to your bed, hm?” She coos, bumping her horns against yours – only letting you go to stand up again when she finishes washing and drying you, allowing you to clothe yourself. Time is a blur then, as you spend it aided to walk by her warm arms, staring at the intricate maze of foliage you’re surrounded about.

You’re snapped out your limping daze when you look around to see the foliage isn’t dark anymore, lit around by hues of oranges from a familiar campfire. Karlach grins, closed-eye as she squeezes you and kisses you warmly before nudging you towards the direction of your tent, quaintly lit up by a candlelight lamp you set inside earlier.

“Go inside,” she coaxes you, all-kind. It’s a certain emptiness you feel when you peel yourself away from her warmth with a whine that has her chuckling and pressing her lips against yours again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You do as she says, stumbling inside your tent and falling with a thud to your soft bed – but not without curling your lips into a loving smile, savoring the memory of her. It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to the hands of rest.

Fuck.

It’s the middle of the night when you’re next startled awake.

And it’s no surprise when you wake up to yet another surge of dull aching and your own arousal just starting to drip out of you. You waste little time; stumbling like a fawn out your tent, movements laden with the remnants of sleep –

You’re halfway out when your face slams against a body; lithe and cold, and in your sleep-ridden state, you could be convinced you just bumped into a slab of ice draped in flesh. But you urge your heavy lids to open up, to see the man, well, vampire you’d bickered with earlier, staring down at you from the very opening.

“Astarion,” you state, bleary-eyed and fisting your nightshirt closer; the fleece of it grounding you under his piercing gaze. Your heart is beating quick; a brief thought hopes it stays beating, and you will it away. You have half the mind to ask what he’s doing in front of your tent, but you have no time. The air is thick. The heat inside you is boiling. You need relief – Rolan.

“I...” Your words crawl in your throat, the line of your brows furrowing when you feel the familiar pinpricks of your heat pressing into you. “Please, move. I have somewhere to be.”

You almost feel small under the depth of his gaze; everything about him reeks of fury mingling with need.

“Off to find another bed to warm, I assume?” Astarion hisses with the slightest slur, the breath which he speaks out carrying the scent of fine wine – the air around him dangerous. Starving. He moves closer, and you, in all your confusion, slowly crawl back into your tent, unsure on what to fight first; the heat that consumes you or the danger you feel is about to overtake you.

“Astarion,” you mumble, this time with a bleat to your voice and your eyes wide like the lamb to be drained and slaughtered you feel you are. The air is heady; laden with fear and need thick like honey. Everything around you is too much. Where is Rolan? Karlach?

A hand tightens around your ankle, refusing to let go even as you yelp and watch Astarion force his way inside your cramped tent and crawls himself between your legs to nestle his face in the crook of your neck.

“No, no,” You whisper to him, shifting under him in a panic when you feel his familiar lips on your neck. “I’m sorry but you cannot feed from me tonight, Astarion. I need to leave, now.”

“I’m not here to drain you dry, silly.” Astarion’s voice is husky, breathy. It has you clenching your thighs around his hips; his hands clasp around yours in return. “Though, I am starving, I have something else in store for little you.” You grit in discomfort, the unease and desire a blend that you feel entirely drunk on.

(He would never admit it but that tender pit of terror in you has him salivating.)

“Leave...!” You hiss. He chuckles at that; the sound velvet-rich and grating, and does exactly the contrary – pushing himself closer to you until you’re chest-to-chest. You hate that you cannot see him tucked away to your neck. It does not help he is close to your raw, still-sensitive core; you have nothing on save for a long, flowy poet’s shirt thanks to a certain crimson tiefling.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I can’t have you running off to somebody else.”

It’s then that you feel it; the press of a cruel, toothy smile against your throat and something of leather, something of warmth digging into the meat of your thigh. He is not here to drain you out of his anger, rather, he’s here to devour you, prey on you. You fear you’ve catched on belatedly.

“Mfh. I don’t want–” Your late, futile resistance is met with a finger to your lips, flushed thighs being pushed further apart as his hips slot between yours. Somewhere in the back of your muddled mind, you hear yourself keen with delight at the friction before he hushes you.

“You’re right, you don’t want it.” Astarion croons, watching as you writhe your hips against his for friction, as your bare cunt instictively grinds against the hot imprint of his still-clothed cock even as your head grasps for even a thread of coherence. “You need it, need this - need me.”

Your body does not deny his claim, arching your hips to meet his grinding, swollen folds clinging to his leather trousers – the pit in your stomach and the crawl up your spine indistinguishable between dread and ecstasy. The line of reason and morals are once again blurred in your head.

You curse yourself for having indulged in the alcoholic delicacy earlier. He’s emboldened by the wine; you’re weakened by it. The finger on your lips slip inside your mouth, firm on your tongue. You gag on it when his other hand clasped on your hip reaches down in between your legs and feels around for your, unsurprisingly, dripping vulva, the both of you gasping in delight.

“You’re soaked. What a fine surprise!” He chuckles, continuing to buck his clothed erection into your heat, petting your hair when you moan around his fingers. “I hope it’s because of me and not just your little heat.”

Your body is transparent, visceral with him, loyal to the promise of pleasure he can give you – even if your mind, what is left of your rationality indignantly fights tooth and nail to convince your body to stop giving in to animalistic pleasure.

It’s not long then, until Astarion becomes impatient, always having been; unlacing the ties on his trousers with one skilled hand and leaning over you to toss it off – it’s all too quick for your swarmed mind to catch up to, and the next thing you see and know is that you’re hissing through your teeth and thrashing while he pushes the burning head of his cock into you, hushing you as if you were a distressed animal. Your muscles tense, jerking away, a feeble little no on your lips—

But it’s an easy intrusion, a quick thrust into you is all it takes to bury himself deep with the help of your slick and his pre. He groans as, eyes rolling back as yours start to prick with tears, hold tightening on you as you whimper and turn limp like a ragdoll to his experimental thrusting. Some part of you wants to preen at the pleasure; the honeyed heat inside you pleased.

“Good- fuck, good pet.” He breathily murmurs, clasping a hand around your hip again; alternating between sensual grinding and abruptly slamming into you. All while he laughs and watches with a vicious smile as you’re torn between pathetically moaning and crying, the fingers in your mouth helping to muffle the sounds.

“See? Not so bad if you just close your eyes and give in.” He presses down particularly hard on your tongue when you wail at a sharp, unexpected thrust. He couldn’t have someone from the party playing hero. “I’m trying to help you.”

Tears sting at the corner of your eye, and you have no doubt you look pitiful right now - but fuck, he feels good. You don’t want to admit it, but you won’t deny it either; you needed this. And though you would have preferred to have it be Rolan, all gentle, rutting into you with sweet whispers and even sweeter promises, the heat in your body cannot be satiated with the tenderness he can give you. But you would rather stake him first than admit he’s helping you fill that gaping need in you.

“Astarion...” You furrow your brows and swallow around his fingers, your own life clinging to the back of your throat. It’s with a certain horror and desperation that you realize you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d like – and you know he knows, because he pulls his fingers out your mouth and presses a warm, spit-slick thumb to your aching clit. Your hole flutters around him, and you writhe around, the tightening burn of your incoming orgasm too much to handle. Pleasured, honeyed mewls are wrenched from you as his hips snap, driving his cock deep.

Astarion purrs – a hand on your thigh to help him slam into you, gripping hard enough to form bruises whilst the other was relentless at your clit. It’s with a shriek that you fall apart, seizing on his thrusts that only seem to quicken, the wet sound of skin on skin and your crying permeating through the entire camp, no doubt. He coos when a whine slips out of you, a tear gliding from your eye.

You’re seeing fucking white, blots of black dotted along your vision by the time he greedily slams inside you a final time with a low groan – something pleasingly warm filling you up, satiating you. Astarion holds your face and tugs it meet his for a breathy, passionate kiss whilst he twitches seed inside you - smiling in delight against your lips when you melt.

Relief is found; a warm glow settling on you despite your lids fighting their damndest to stay up. You’re a soft, slow little thing now, all but warm and ready to be taken by approaching slumber. Astarion gladly takes the chance to lie on his side and gather you in his arms, lips curving sweet yet again, but with less threat, as he watches you contentedly curl yourself up against his side. He sighs at the warmth that washes over him, thankful that fatigue has tamed you and fanned out that little spark and scratch you had earlier.

“Happy?” The smitten vampire asks, cheeky, smug as he pulls you closer into him, massaging your sore hips. “No need for you to go looking around for victims when you have me at your disposal, darling. I’d hate for you to lose sight on what really matters.”

You hum as if far away, you’d slap him in the morning that comes, but for now you’d let yourself be lulled into a soft, gentle slumber. A kiss on your head is the last thing you feel, a feeble little goodnight whispered.

[loviestar58]

hai,love!!!❤️

Since Christmas is coming soon, I want to make a special request for that special day.🤭

Vi,Viktor,ekko,and sevika ( if you writer for her ) With lovely,cutey fem s/o giving them christmas presents.please

Btw, nice to meet you and merry christmas (in case i forgot to say it) 🎄❤️🧁🎁

🎄~Fem!Reader Giving Christmas presents~🎄

Ooohhhh this is such a cute one!😭💖

Nice to meet you too! And Merry Christmas/happy holidays!😊

This is definitely perfect for the holiday season, this is a must-do request!

For this, imagine yourself/reader in a cutie Santa dress. Whatever your mind comes up with!🤭

Also could be seen as a modern!au or just from the show, I just took some liberties with settings

Enjoy‼️💖

Vi:

🥊~It'd be another freezing night in the undercity, both you and Vi would be spending it in your shared apartment together. Snow gently falls outside, some small flecks of snowflakes sticking to the windows alongside the frost on the edges, creating a pretty shimmer over the glass. Vi would be relaxing on the couch, you by her side as you both cuddled up together under your giant heated blanket (best investment you ever had), watching some sort of cheesy Christmas movie that made Vi roll her eyes every few seconds. You, on the other hand, instead of watching the movie, we're watching the clock. The small arrow that counted the seconds ticking quietly, your eyes never leaving it, before it made it to 12. You started to get up from the very warm cuddle. "And where exactly are you going? You know, you made me watch this movie with you, and now you're leaving before it ends? What gives?" Her playful and teasing tone was not missed by your ears, especially when it was accompanied by that smirk of hers. You giggle, telling her that you'd be right back, practically prancing your way to your bedroom, barely able to contain the excitement that threatened to bubble up and out of your body. Vi would roll her eyes in amusement and wait, eyes back to the movie and not knowing how much time had passed before she heard the bedroom door open again, glancing to her side quickly and then double-taking as she saw you, now full on staring. You'd come back in different clothes, all dolled up as a cute mimic of Santa. "Ha, didn't know it was still Halloween, muffin. Wasn't expecting this. I'm not complaining though, you look..hot. Heh". Her eyes pierced through you, analyzing every curve and movement of your body. How the dress hugged your waist just right, how your thighs looked in the stockings you wore, and barely made it up to how your chest looked until you spoke up again, saying that it was officially Christmas, and you had a present for her. Holding your hands out, a sizable box lay in your hands. Vi blinked and looked up at the clock: 12:15 AM, now Christmas Day. Chuckling, Vi gingerly took the box from you and did so again as you plopped next to her on the couch, excitement written all over your face, anticipation building at Vi's possible reaction, which the pinkette couldn't help but find adorable. Taking the lid off the box, she gasped, eyes downcasted onto the object inside, her breath caught and chest tightening from the item. Pulling it out, a pair of boxing gloves revealed themselves, but not just any old pair, almost exact replicas of the ones Vander wore. You ask what she thought of it, if she likes it. Vi was almost speechless, thumb drawing small circles over the material of the gloves, memories flashing in her mind of the good days, the days of practicing boxing techniques with Vander in the basement of their home, Powder watching and cheering. Nothing else mattered. She didn't even realize a tear was falling from her eye until you panicked and tried to comfort her, saying if she didn't like it that you can take it back-

"No! No..it's alright, muffin. I'm ok, just..this is.." She was lost for words again, but found them again quickly as she smiled softly. "This is the best gift I've ever gotten..they look, just like his. And it's from you, which makes it even better. I love it. Thank you, muffin". Relief crosses your face as you let out a breath, leaning onto Vi and resting your forehead against hers, gently nuzzling each other as she wraps and arm around you to bring you closer, sharing a sweet and tender kiss as you wish each other a merry Christmas.

Viktor:

🩼~The lab was relatively quiet, only the soft whirring of the hexcore runes being shifted again and again, the bright blue light illuminating each time and bringing to light the exhaustion that lie all over Viktors face. Leaning back in his chair with a frustrated sigh, Viktor rubbed his eyes, bags underneath them dark and deep, all from way too many late nights. "Urghh..what am I missing?" He grumbles under his breath, eyes now staring dead at the hexcore in front of him. He had been staying up once again, another one of the many many sleepless nights he had been taking to figure out this mysterious rune-filled device. It was almost mocking him as it moved, pulsing it's blue glow as some runes shifted on their own. He felt his head starting to get fuzzy, slight dizziness falling over him before hearing a soft knock at the door, a specific knock. Your knock. The door opens as you step into the lab, Viktor having yet to turn around, already knowing it was you. "Hello, my love. I..I know it is late, so before you say anythi-" his long, pre-prepared explanation that he has made to you many times, knowing how worried you've gotten over him the past while, had got caught in his throat as he turned in his chair at the mere sight of you. You, standing there with a warm smile on your face, the dress that made your figure even more beautiful than usual, and of course the present in your hands. You say a soft hello to him as he continued to stare, not realizing he was repeating his own hello to you. "E-eh..hello, lovely. You..look incredible. What is this about?" You giggled, reminding him that it was now Christmas, and has been for about and hour or two, him glancing at the clock and realizing it for himself. "Ah..so it is. I- did not realize-" his eyes landed on the box again. "Is this..for me?" You nod happily, giddyness filling your body as you hand the box over to him, excited to see his reaction to your present. Viktor held the box on his lap and slowly began to unwrap it, the sounds of ripping wrapping paper filling the lap as well as cardboard being scratched against and opened. Reaching his hands into the box, he pulled out a small notebook and new looking fountain pen, the expensive kind. He smiles softly "A new notebook, and is this..oh my love, you did not.." You nodded excitedly, reciting the time he had mentioned wanting a new pen and that he particularly liked a specific brand of it, said it writes the smoothest for his taste. You explained how you recruited the help of Jayce to help track one down for you, seeing as how the brand he liked was rare and expensive, you told Jayce you'd pay him back, but of course he refused and said he was just happy to know he could help get something to make Viktor happy, and that made Viktor chuckle softly. "I must give Jayce my thanks when I see him again for his contributions of this gift. I love it, lovely. Thank you". He reached a hand up to bring you closer to him, placing the palm of his hand to you cheek and making you mean down and meet his lips against yours in a tender and soft kiss, full of gratitude and love for the gift. He holds the kiss for a good moment, always being the type to savor the feeling no matter the context of the kiss, before breaking it with a soft grin, allowing you to smile lovingly and wish him merry Christmas, and he does the same...then you start to scold him for staying up late again and tell him to go to sleep. And as usual he protests.

Ekko:

⏳~Laughter rang out throughout the base, young firelight kids running around in a traditional game of tag, or a mix of tag and a Snowball fight. Light snow fell to the ground, coating the area with a thin sheet of white that crunched beneath the shoes of everyone who stepped in it. Ekko stood on a balcony up on the big tree they called home, his big green jacket wrapped snuggly on his body to keep him warm as he smiled at the scene down below. The children playing always made his heart warm, glad they could find some joy in this chaotic world of theirs, and it made him know that he was doing things right. A small grunt broke his spaced out state, turning his head to see Scar besides him, not as bundled up as he was, a perk of being Vastayan, he supposed. "It's starting, as our leader I had to find you. Especially since your lover insisted this time" he spoke, chuckling in that deep voice of his. Ekko chuckled himself, shaking his head and pushing himself off the balcony to follow Scar down the tree, hoverboards being deployed within seconds. "Yeah, I'm comin'". By the time the two got down, feet crunching the snow beneath them, a circle of the firelights were in place, a big bonefire in the center of them all. Standing in the middle, giant bag in hand, was you. Dressed up the part to play as good ol' saint Nick, little bell on your hat jingling as you moved from kid to kid, handing out small presents you made yourself over the past month. You made sure no one was left out, having taken note of each person in the base, young adults included, and made them something personal for each one. As you kept handing out presents, Ekko watched you with a warm gaze, admiring your looks, and your heart. How you were such a kind and sweet girl to his people, going out of your way to do things like this for the time he's known you. You felt his gaze, turning to him and beaming that radient smile of yours that made his heart skip as you made your way over to him. "Seems you've been busy, you really got everyone something, didn't you?" You nodded happily, pulling two small boxes, the last two, out of the bag, you hand one to Scar and then to Ekko. Both men smiled at you, the Vastayan wasting no time in seeing what it was, pulling out a small pair of matching gloves, one for him and his baby, and he couldn't help the grateful look that washed over him, nodding in thanks to you which you returned with a hug, catching him off guard for a moment before he returned the gesture. Scar then left to go check on said baby, muttering a quick "Be right back" before leaving. Your attention returned to Ekko who had been fiddling with the little bow on the box, untying it as he felt your gaze on him, and lifting the kid. His eyes widened, pulling out a small wooden statue, carved in the image of a firelight bug, and then a pair of bracelets. You explain how they were matching, one for him and the other for you, each with your initials so you two can carry each other with you and be together, no matter where you are. "Firefly.." He whispered, his voice almost shaking. It'd been a while since he'd been given something so sweet and sentimental "..this is, beautiful. I..wow, you made these? How long did you spend on these? The details.." He trailed off, examining the jewelry and the small statue, box long forgotten on the ground. You stood there, proud of yourself, and feeling your heart swell at his reaction, lunging at him for a hug, stunning him for a moment. He smiled with a slight huff, putting the little presents in his pockets and returning the embrace, arms wrapping around your figure that seemed to mold perfectly against his, making his jacket come around you to create a bubble of warmth. His hand lifted to your cheek after a moment, lifting it up and bringing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. "Thank you, Firefly. Merry Christmas". You repeated it back, a gentle smile on your lips as you both got lost in each other's eyes, time stopping around you both, freezing this precious moment.

Sevika:

The door slammed open and then shut, the sound of it echoing throughout the apartment, Sevika stomping her way to the living room, cracking her neck and groaning in annoyance and anger. "Damn chem barons, oughta wring their damn necks..". With a loud plop, she sat herself down on the couch, letting out a giant sigh mixed with a groan as she rubbed her eyes. As if that would soothe any of her stress. The chem barons had been testing her patience lately, constantly ambushing her and picking fights, even if she always won, it still didn't make them any less annoying. Off in the doorway of your bedroom, you peaked around the corner, spotting Sevika on the couch and seeing just how stressed she was, watching as she fidgeted with her mechanized arm. You felt a small twinge in your heart, you hated seeing her so stressed and pissed off all the time, especially due to forces you couldn't control. After a moment or two of staring, an idea as well as a realization popped in your head, and a smile graced your cute face, giddy and retreating back into your shared bedroom. Sevika heard some rustling around in the room, having not realized you had been home the entire time. "Bunny? Is that you? Are ya home?" She called out to you, her voice sounding noticeably softer, as if she was happy knowing you were home. With no answer after a moment, she started to get up to find you, but quickly froze once you stepped back out, her eyes widening for a moment at the sight of you, a smirk appearing on her lips. "Well, what do we have here? Little bunny all dressed up for me?" You felt your cheeks heat up, a bit flustered at her usual teasing tone and giggling as you strutted up to her, gently placing a hand on her chest to make her sit back down on the couch, the other behind your back, and climbing up into her lap. She wasted no time in placing her hands on your hips, holding you close and kissing you firmly. "You're gorgeous, bunny. And based on the outfit, today's Christmas, huh?" She chuckled as you nodded excitedly, the other hand that was behind your back now coming to the front and presenting a small present box to her, which caught her off guard, but wasn't too shocked by the gesture. "Ooh, got me somethin'? Heh, I should've known". You chastise her, saying how you're not that predictable, but she begged to differ, recounting many times you've given her gifts, which made you huff playfully and roll your eyes and tell her to just open the present. She puts a hand up in fake surrender and did as she was told, unwrapping the box and prying it open with her mech hand, sharp fingers opening it up quick. She flipped the box over to dump the contents into her hand, a small item coming out and landing with a small metallic clink. "Is this..?" She started, looking up at you to see a proud look on your face. Why? Cause she was holding the lighter of a chem baron she fought. A brand logo she had mentioned before. "How did you get this?" You said one name, Jinx. And that was all Sevika needed to know. "So, you recruited the loose canon to get this for me? Heh..gotta say, I'm impressed. And..grateful". Her tone softened at the last word, flipping open the lighter to watch the pretty blue flame spouting out, smiling to herself as you wished her a merry christmas before closing it again and going in for another, more passionate kiss. "Thanks, bun. I love it" she said softly, making you giddy enough to hold her close in an embrace, her returning the gesture in full, savoring the touch. And that included some wandering hands that you felt on your lower back.

I think I did more work than I should have but like-

I love how this came out😭

I apologize for any mischaracterization, I did my best with this! But I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!😊💖

[faithshouseofchaos]

toto x reader. they wake their kids up christmas morning and they are very cuddly and excited. they eat breakfast first then they open their gifts. (two kids, jack and then a toddler little boy, hes cuddled up to toto the whole time)

Christmas morning— Toto Wolff x reader

Word count 511

Fluff

Tagged @diaryofarandomkid

The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, its soft golden glow reflecting off the snow outside. The quiet stillness of the house was interrupted only by the sound of your gentle laughter as you nudged Toto awake. His dark hair was tousled, his arm loosely wrapped around your waist.

“Time to wake the boys,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Toto groaned playfully, his lips curving into a smile. “Five more minutes? It’s warm here,” he mumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder.

“Come on,” you teased, pulling the blanket back. “Christmas only comes once a year.”

Reluctantly, Toto sat up, rubbing his eyes. Together, you padded down the hall to the kids’ rooms. First stop was Jack’s room. At five years old, he was already a ball of energy even at the crack of dawn. You pushed the door open, and Toto leaned down, his deep voice soft but excited.

“Jack, guess who came last night?” Toto asked, brushing a hand over the boy’s messy hair.

Jack stirred, his eyes popping open as realization hit. “Santa!” he exclaimed, jumping out of bed. He was already halfway down the hall before you could catch him.

Next was your youngest, just two years old, still sound asleep in his crib. Toto scooped him up gently, pressing a kiss to his curls. The little boy stirred, blinking up at his dad with bleary eyes. His chubby arms instinctively wrapped around Toto’s neck, and he nestled against his chest.

“Good morning, my little man,” Toto murmured, his voice tender. “It’s Christmas.”

The toddler only hummed sleepily, refusing to let go as Toto carried him to the living room. You followed with a smile, the sight of the two of them warming your heart.

Jack was already bouncing on the couch, pointing to the presents under the tree. “Can we open them now? Please?”

“Not before breakfast,” you reminded him gently.

“Ah, your mama is right,” Toto chimed in, setting the toddler in his lap as you guided Jack to the table. Breakfast was a simple but festive affair—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and cream, scrambled eggs, and hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows. Jack devoured his in record time, while the toddler clung to Toto, nibbling at a pancake with his tiny hands.

Finally, it was time for the main event. Jack tore into his gifts with unabashed glee, his face lighting up with each new toy and book. Meanwhile, the little one was content to stay cuddled up against Toto, watching his brother with wide eyes. Toto unwrapped the toddler’s gifts for him, holding up a soft stuffed bear and making it dance, earning a delighted giggle.

The room was filled with laughter, wrapping paper strewn everywhere, and the scent of pine and cocoa lingering in the air. As the boys played with their new treasures, you and Toto exchanged a look, his free hand finding yours.

“Merry Christmas,” he said softly, squeezing your fingers.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, leaning in for a kiss, surrounded by the love and joy of your little family.