#and happy new years eve-ish

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together. 

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here." 

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice. 

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child. 

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice. 

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?" 

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June." 

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about." 

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on. 

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura. 

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood. 

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded. 

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling. 

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!" 

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.  

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you. 

You gave her a smile which she softly returned. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise. 

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more. 

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.” 

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm. 

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were. 

“How are you doing?” Stina asked. 

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally. 

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know. 

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly. 

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent. 

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully. 

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The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed. 

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway. 

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering. 

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted. 

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue. 

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy. 

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches. 

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.  

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said. 

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this. 

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much? 

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina. 

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings. 

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle. 

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced. 

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more. 

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations. 

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently. 

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off. 

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.” 

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her? 

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory. 

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind. 

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly. 

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap. 

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder. 

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile. 

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway. 

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile. 

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back. 

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled. 

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

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After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time. 

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself. 

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.” 

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.  

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.” 

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit. 

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers. 

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.” 

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked. 

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful. 

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—” 

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down. 

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up. 

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts. 

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed. 

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently. 

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.” 

Stina looked at you, confused. 

“They did? What did they say?” 

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation. 

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.” 

Stina shook her head, laughing. 

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant. 

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained. 

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved. 

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.” 

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach. 

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips. 

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.” 

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

[localcanadiancreature62]

Shit. It's gonna be a new year in a few days huh?. I have made so much wonderful art,and met so many wonderful friends ever since i made this new account months ago after my old one imploded. I will continue to be insane and unhinged like usual once the next year comes,but i look forward to new fun experiences with my new besties. I'm gonna tag y'all here because i fucking love you all goddamnit.

Mwah mwah mwah i love you little gay people in my phone. @aria-greenhoodie @chaseerr0rcode @kitcatia Ty for being in the server with me and ty for helping make the server so i can be more insane about those two gay idiots. @aaabatteryy @nico-the-overlord Ty for listening to my crazy ass rambles. @rizzemwiththetism @wind-tail @antonymziie @yunfox00 @misteria247 Ty for being cool. And @ everyone else in my moot circle cuz if i made a speech about everyone this would get too Fucking long. Merry Christmas everyone and happy new year :]].

[tabbykatsplayground]

Third time's a charm.

[bl-inkstone]

the ghost of my christmas past is me sitting down in front of my laptop for over 10 hours to write a 5k+ wc companion fic to my friend's own oc-centric fic after not writing anything more than 1k words for over a year

[sirfrogsworth]

I haven't posted in a while.

Well, a while for me.

I've been stuck in a physical slump for about 7-ish weeks and it is starting to get to me. It's like my body is stuck in low power mode and I just don't have much productive energy. I've been trying to work on restoring photos but my willpower has been very inconsistent.

These slumps have happened before. They will happen again. And I always emerge from them eventually. But when they are this long I get very depressed and convince myself I am stuck like this forever. And that I will never be able to accomplish anything again.

But the other complication is the holidays. I mentioned on my Facebook page that my parents always made the holidays special. They went all out and did big decorations and cooked fancy dinners and we had these plates that we only used twice a year and silverware that stayed hidden in a drawer until Christmas Eve. We'd drive around and look at lights and we'd always have presents under the tree even when my parents probably couldn't afford presents.

And my mom would wrap our presents in plain brown postal paper with green yarn and it was just so much more tasteful than the shiny, garish wrapping paper you get at the store.

I just always loved how classy that was. I loved how she took the time to put a little hand-drawn doodle on each gift. She took something simple and inexpensive and made it so much more personal and memorable than the more expensive thing.

And all of that is gone now.

And I don't have a new family to build new traditions with.

And I never will because I'm disabled and that isn't really an option.

And I can't even be a cool uncle because my brother's wife decided she hated me and my parents for no reason we could ever decipher. So I will never meet my niece.

And all of that just kind of converges in my brain during the holidays and it is very hard. And it is doubly hard because I can't get out of bed. And I can't concentrate.

So I am just bored and sad and frustrated.

Umm... Happy Thanksgiving?

[mingi-s-dimples]

New Year's Eve - Yungi (Special)

Happy New Year's Eve & Happy New Year, sweethearts! 🎆

pairing: ceo!mingi x model f!reader x manager!yunho

genre: 18+, filth(ish)

summary: alcohol loosened your mouth a bit.. and your actions had gotten bolder to the point you fucked both your ceo and manager. but fuck it, they were whipped for you anyways.

wc: 6.1k

warnings: ceo!mingi, co-ceo/manager!yunho, fashion model f!reader, alcohol involved (champagne and whisky), Mingi is damn wasted and desperate for reader, Yunho is more controlled but he's also done for, oral, double oral (mhm yes she takes em both hihi), soft deepthroating, soft hair pushing/face thrusting, making out, teasing, drunken confession, in my opinion Yunho could drink more than Mingi and Mingi would still be gone & wasted, oral sex (f), use of sex toys (vibrator), use of hand restraint (Yunho's belt), some praise sprinkles, double penetration, threesome, did I say Mingi is needy?, lots lots of cumm, overstimulation, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I completely forgot to post this bro 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I was out all day and night for nye and I completely forgot. But hey! It's spicy and I was like eh fuck it, no one would've read it exactly on nye soooo here it is finally! I hope everyone had a great if not wonderful time with their loved ones, doesn't matter friends, family or lovers ^^ Happy New Year, Happy 2025 and let's have fun together!!! Love you sweethearts 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The penthouse was a sight to behold, an epitome of luxury that only Mingi could pull off. The crystal-clear windows framed the city skyline, glittering with lights as the countdown to New Year’s Eve loomed closer. Inside, the space glowed with warm lighting and tasteful decor. The centerpiece of the evening was a bucket of expensive champagne chilling on the bar, a nod to the success of Mingi’s fashion empire and the new year that promised even greater heights.

Standing near the bar, Mingi adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp black suit fitting him like a second skin. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, glancing at the clock with a raised brow.

“Late as always,” he muttered, though a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence. Mingi straightened, setting down his glass. The doors slid open, revealing Yunho first, his easy grin and sharp blazer exuding a casual confidence. But it was you who stole the show.

Dressed in a sleek, shimmery black dress that caught the light with every step, you walked out behind Yunho. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the slit high enough to turn heads. In your hands, you held a bottle of champagne, a playful smile on your lips.

“We brought reinforcements!” you announced, holding the bottle up triumphantly as you walked toward Mingi.

“Fashionably late, I see,” Mingi teased, taking the champagne from you. His eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’ll forgive you. You look stunning.”

“Thanks, darling. It’s only fair to match the ambiance of your penthouse,” you replied, flashing a wink before slipping past him to the bar.

Yunho chuckled as he followed, setting his coat aside. “Don’t let her charm fool you, Mingi. She made me stop twice to check her hair on the way here.”

“I just like looking perfect. Is that a crime?” you quipped, settling onto one of the plush chairs near the fireplace.

The evening began with laughter, the champagne flowing freely as the three of you toasted to the successes of the past year. Mingi, ever the gracious host, ensured that your glasses were never empty. Yunho took the role of storyteller, regaling everyone with tales from childhood, including one about a particularly embarrassing moment involving Mingi and a failed attempt at skateboarding.

“Some things don’t need to be shared,” Mingi grumbled, but the fondness in his tone betrayed his irritation.

“Come on, it’s the last night of the year!” Yunho said, raising his glass. “We’re celebrating everything tonight—embarrassments included.”

You laughed, leaning closer to Mingi. “I think it’s endearing. Shows you’re not always perfect.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mingi replied, his voice low and smooth, “I’m far from perfect. But I’m close.”

As the night progressed and the champagne bottles were emptied, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The room was warmer, the laughter louder, and the touches lingered just a little longer. You found yourself seated between Mingi and Yunho on the large sectional, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned toward Yunho, your hand resting lightly on his arm.

“So,” you began, your voice teasing, “what’s the plan for next year? More long meetings where you two bicker like an old married couple?”

Yunho groaned, tipping his head back. “You have no idea how much patience it takes to deal with this guy.”

“Me?” Mingi scoffed. “I’m the reason we’re successful. You’re just here for damage control.”

“And to manage your favorite model,” Yunho added, nudging you gently.

“Ah, yes. The face of the brand,” Mingi said, his gaze sliding to you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You flatter me,” you said, feigning humility.

“Only when it’s true,” Mingi replied, his tone dipping into something softer, something that made your cheeks warm.

It wasn’t long before the champagne had taken its toll. The three of you were sprawled comfortably, the city outside sparkling brighter as midnight approached. You stretched, your dress riding up slightly as you did. Neither Mingi nor Yunho missed it, though they both tried to be discreet.

Feeling bold, you leaned against Yunho, your fingers toying with the lapel of his blazer. “You know,” you said, your voice a little too sweet, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Yunho teased, his brow arching. “This is either going to be genius or chaos.”

You smirked, your fingers trailing up his chest. “Don’t you think we’ve been a little... too professional all this time?”

Mingi, sipping his drink, choked slightly and glanced at you with wide eyes. Yunho froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

“Excuse me?” Yunho finally said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

You tilted your head, your gaze meeting his with a challenge. “You heard me, sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” Mingi echoed, setting his glass down. “Oh, she’s bold tonight.”

“You’re drunk,” Yunho said, though his eyes darkened just a fraction as you moved closer, climbing and settling yourself on his lap without hesitation.

“Maybe,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I’m also right.”

“Weren’t we keeping this professional?” Yunho asked, his hands instinctively settling on your waist.

“Maybe we’ve been too professional,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

The tension in the room thickened. Mingi leaned back in his seat, watching with raised brows and a barely concealed grin.

“Well?” Mingi drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Are you going to let her get away with this, Yunho?”

Yunho groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his hands tightened their grip on your waist.

“And you love it,” you shot back, brushing your nose against his.

With a resigned sigh and a muttered curse, Yunho pulled you closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Mingi let out a low whistle.

“Happy New Year to me,” Mingi said, raising his glass. “This is better than fireworks.”

Yunho froze for a moment, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breath mingling with yours. It took a second for the haze of alcohol and your boldness to fully register in his mind. But when your hips shifted against him again, pressing closer, the wet heat seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his pants, a low growl escaped his throat.

It wasn’t just teasing anymore.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with tension. His hands tightened their grip on your waist, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady himself. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin on your lips as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

Yunho’s restraint cracked. His lips crashed against yours, firm and commanding, like months of held-back desire spilling out all at once. The kiss was nothing short of a claim, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound that rumbled from his chest sent a thrill through you.

Your hips shifted again, pressing against him instinctively, and Yunho let out a sharp breath, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Y/N,” he said again, this time almost a warning, but his voice betrayed the edge of a groan.

Your arousal was soaking through your dress, dampening his pants, and the sensation only made the heat between you more unbearable. Yunho’s lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t help himself.

From across the couch, Mingi watched the scene unfold, frozen in place. He’d tried to stay calm, to play the role of the disinterested observer. But as your hips shifted again on Yunho’s lap, the way your dress clung to you and the damp fabric hinted at just how affected you were—it was too much.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the tightness in his pants now impossible to ignore. He cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself discreetly, but the movement caught Yunho’s attention.

Breaking the kiss, Yunho rested his forehead against yours for a moment, catching his breath before glancing over at Mingi. His sharp eyes took in the way Mingi was shifting, his jaw tight and his glass held a little too firmly. A smirk played on Yunho’s lips as he spoke.

“So,” Yunho drawled, his voice thick and teasing, “she’s not the only one excited here.”

You blinked, momentarily dazed from the kiss, but when the meaning registered, your eyes darted to Mingi. The sight of him—tense, clearly aroused despite his attempt at composure—sent a flush up your neck.

Mingi scoffed, his voice rough as he tore his gaze away from you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You smirked, turning back to Yunho. “What can I say? Guess I have that effect.”

Yunho chuckled, his hands sliding possessively up your sides. “That, you do,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver through you.

Mingi stood abruptly as he made his way to the bar. He poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, trying to shake the images from his mind. The heat radiating from where you and Yunho sat was unbearable, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely.

“I need another drink,” he announced, his tone clipped.

Yunho’s smirk widened as he turned back to you, his fingers brushing along the edge of your dress. “I think we’re making him uncomfortable,” he teased.

You laughed softly, leaning closer to Yunho. “Good,” you said, your voice a sultry whisper.

Mingi clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his glass as the tension in the room grew thicker, almost suffocating.

The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, the kind that made your heart race and every movement feel electrified. Yunho’s hands lingered on your waist as you leaned back slightly, his lap still warm beneath you. Your eyes flicked to Mingi, who was pouring himself another drink with a little too much focus, his jaw tight and his posture tense.

You smirked.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling,” you said, your voice smooth and teasing.

Mingi froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

Slowly, deliberately, you slid off Yunho’s lap, your movements fluid and calculated. For a moment, Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, reluctant to let you go, but he released you with a low hum of curiosity.

You stood, adjusting your dress with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching briefly on the evidence of your effect on Yunho—the bulge pressing against his slacks, darkened slightly where your arousal had soaked through. The sight sent a thrill down your spine, your confidence swelling as you turned your attention to Mingi.

He was pretending to be unaffected, his focus on the drink he was pouring, but his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the glass was just a bit too firm. You sauntered toward him, your heels clicking softly against the floor.

“Mingi,” you said sweetly, standing just close enough that he could feel your presence.

“What?” he replied, his voice clipped, though he didn’t turn around.

You reached out, your fingers trailing lightly up his back and over his shoulder. The touch made him stiffen slightly, and you smiled, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him.

Your hand slid up his chest, fingers teasing over the fine fabric of his suit jacket, and his eyes finally met yours. There was heat there, barely restrained, as if he were trying desperately to keep some semblance of control.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warning.

You tilted your head, your hand drifting lower, over his stomach and down toward his belt. “What do you think I’m doing?” you asked innocently, your fingers brushing against the obvious bulge straining against his slacks.

Mingi flinched slightly at the contact, his breath hitching as his free hand shot out to grab your wrist. “Careful,” he said, his tone dark and edged with tension. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his ear. “Oh, I think I do,” you whispered.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho’s hands appeared on your waist, his warm touch grounding and electrifying all at once. His chest pressed lightly against your back, and his voice was a low rumble as he addressed Mingi.

“What do you think we should do with her?” Yunho asked, his tone teasing but his grip firm.

Mingi’s jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and Yunho as if trying to gauge the situation.

You, however, didn’t hesitate. Turning your head slightly, you met Yunho’s gaze with boldness, then looked back at Mingi.

“I want both of you,” you said bluntly, your voice steady and unwavering.

The statement hung in the air like a firework, bursting with heat and possibility. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly around your wrist, and Yunho’s grip on your waist became more possessive.

“Is that so?” Yunho murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver through you.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You really are something else,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice hinted at something deeper.

“And you love it,” you said, throwing the words back at him with a sly smile.

You leaned closer to Mingi, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against him. The contact was electrifying, your hips moving just enough to graze against the hardness straining in his slacks. Mingi’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist faltering for just a moment before he caught himself, his sharp intake of breath betraying his composure.

“Y/N,” he warned, though his voice was shaky, the restraint in it fraying at the edges.

Before he could say anything else, Yunho’s hands slid over your waist, his touch firm and grounding, yet possessive. His chest pressed against your back, and the warmth of his body seeped into you, making you feel caught between the two of them in the most delicious way.

Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to us right now,” he murmured.

You smirked, glancing back at him. “Don’t I?”

His eyes were dark, sultry, and filled with desire as he looked down at you. The alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue, but his confession came with a weight that made your breath hitch.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a damn long time,” he admitted, his voice raw with honesty and hunger. “Every time you walked into the room, every time you gave me that little bratty attitude of yours, I wanted to take you apart.”

The words hung in the air, making your heart race. Mingi stiffened, his jaw clenching as he turned his head slightly to glance at Yunho.

“And Mingi,” Yunho continued, his tone teasing now, “he’s just as bad. Wanted you just as much. But he’s a pussy and never said anything about it.”

Your lips parted slightly, stunned by Yunho’s bluntness, though a flicker of amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to Mingi. “Is that true?” you teased, your voice lilting and playful, though the weight of Yunho’s words lingered in the air.

Mingi’s gaze darkened, his restraint snapping as the last thread of control unraveled. His hand released your wrist, and in a swift motion, he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you against him. The force of it made you gasp, and before you could process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the bar counter.

His body caged yours, his hands firm on either side of you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously controlled.

You nodded, your confidence faltering slightly under his piercing gaze.

“The truth,” Mingi said, his voice rough as his hands slid up your thighs, “is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my office. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was the professional thing to do.” His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver. “And now, here you are, making it impossible to hold back.”

Before you could respond, Mingi’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss searing and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he claimed you with a fervor that made your head spin.

Yunho’s hands never left your waist, his presence behind you a constant reminder that this was far from over. His low chuckle filled your ears as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your other ear. “Told you he wanted it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and barely controlled.

You nodded, breathless. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” Mingi replied, his voice firm as he pulled you back in for another kiss, his grip on you unwavering.

Yunho’s breath was hot on your ear as he leaned in, his hands still resting on your waist. His voice was husky, full of that delicious edge that only alcohol and desire could bring.

"Should we take this further?" he asked, the words slow and deliberate. "But I can't guarantee you'll be able to walk tomorrow. You might even forget how to be that bratty little thing you are the next day."

Your heart raced at his words, a wicked little smile curling on your lips as you glanced at Mingi. His gaze was fixed on you, dark with desire, and for a moment, it was clear neither of them had any intention of backing down.

Mingi, too drunk to process his thoughts fully, stood without a word, the hunger in his eyes evident as he moved toward you. Before you could even protest, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, his body pressing against yours.

Yunho, eyes never leaving you, followed behind him as Mingi made his way toward the bedroom, his hands tightening around you as he carefully but urgently laid you down on the bed. The movement was smooth, deliberate, like he couldn't wait another second.

The bed shifted beneath you, and you could feel the heat radiating from Mingi as he straightened up. His fingers fumbled briefly with the buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling away from his body, revealing the toned chest you had been imagining for so long. Then, with a look that bordered between hunger and need, he took off his pants, standing tall over you.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and you noticed Yunho following his lead, his eyes darkened and filled with a similar urgency. The way they both moved, as if they were drawn to you like magnets, made your heart race even faster. He'd only taken his shirt off, his patience running thin.

But then, it was your turn.

Yunho moved closer to the bed, and with a surprising tenderness, his hands brushed over your sides, gently lifting your dress over your head. The way he undressed you wasn’t rushed or forceful. Instead, it was slow, almost reverent, as if you were something rare, something to be cherished.

You shivered under their gaze, the anticipation in the air thickening as Mingi and Yunho marveled at you. The delicate black lingerie that enveloped your body seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting, contrasting beautifully against your skin. Both men were momentarily frozen in awe, their gazes roaming over you with admiration and wonder.

"You’re…" Mingi started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung in the air—unable to fully capture the intensity of what he was feeling.

Yunho’s lips parted slightly, his hand resting on the bed beside you as he took in the sight. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with desire, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“I've never wanted to fuck you so bad until now… but that can wait, for a moment” Mingi said, eyes roaming over yours.

The room was softly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Yunho stood near the bed, his tall frame calm and composed, while Mingi leaned casually against the dresser, his grin wide and easy, though the flush of alcohol in his system was evident in the slight sway of his movements.

—

“You know,” Yunho began, his voice smooth and steady despite the faint tint of tipsiness in his cheeks, “I think it’d be better if your hands were tied. Might make things easier for you to focus.”

His eyes flickered toward the leather belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it, the metallic clink of the buckle filling the quiet room. His movements were deliberate, giving you plenty of time to object if you wanted to.

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the anticipation in the air. Turning around, you felt the edge of the bed press against the backs of your thighs as Yunho stepped closer.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice gentle but firm.

You complied, feeling the smooth leather loop around your wrists. Yunho’s fingers brushed against your skin as he secured the belt—not too tight, just enough to restrict your movement without causing discomfort. “Let me know if this is too much,” he murmured, testing the knot before stepping back to admire his work.

“Perfect,” he said, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “Yunho, you’re too good at this,” he teased, his voice slightly slurred but playful.

“She makes it easy,” Yunho shot back with a smirk, gesturing for you to kneel on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric of the comforter brushed against your knees as you adjusted your position, your bound hands resting lightly against your lower back.

The two of them moved to stand in front of you, their towering frames blocking out the dim light. Yunho was the first to step forward, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Start with me,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

You leaned forward, your movements deliberate, as you traced your tongue om his cock, from the base to the leaking tip. Yunho’s breathing hitched slightly, his calm composure wavering as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His touch was firm, guiding you but never forcing.

Beside him, Mingi watched intently, his fingers twitching as if itching to join in. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual boldness softened by the alcohol coursing through his system.

After a moment, Yunho gently pulled back, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he stepped aside. “Your turn,” he said, nodding toward Mingi.

Mingi wasted no time, stepping closer with a lazy grin. “Been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. His hand tangled lightly in your hair, his touch less controlled than Yunho’s but no less careful. He let out a shaky exhale as you leaned into him, his body visibly reacting to your efforts. Your lips sucked on his tip, drawing out whines and soft moans from his rising chest.

The energy shifted as you alternated between them, the rhythm fluid and unspoken. Yunho’s steady presence contrasted with Mingi’s more erratic responses, creating a dynamic that kept you on your toes.

Then came the moment they had both clearly been waiting for. Yunho’s hand brushed against Mingi’s shoulder as they exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.

“You think you can handle both of us?” Yunho asked, his tone a mix of challenge and encouragement.

You nodded, your confidence growing as they moved closer, their proximity forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Yunho tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “Take your time,” he said, his voice steady.

You started slowly, focusing on one and then the other, testing your limits as you adjusted to the new feeling.. of taking both cocks at the same time. Their reactions were immediate and visceral—Yunho’s quiet groans mingling with Mingi’s more vocal appreciation.

As you began to take them both simultaneously, the intensity in the room shifted. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Yunho’s breathing grew heavier, his hand steadying you as he guided the rhythm. Their cocks rubbing together in your mouth as you sucked both off, the stretch you felt in the corner of your lips making your eyes tear up.

Mingi was the first to test boundaries. He softly thrusted in your mouth. The feeling of hitting the back of your throat made him cum instantly, a string of curses escaping his mouth at the surprise of his fast release. Mingi pulled out and caught his breath as Yunho took full control of your head, his cock filling your mouth nicely. As you bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue licking the shaft as you sucked him off, it drove him fucking insane. You sucked harshly on the tip and pressed your tongue into it as he came in your mouth, the smirk in his fafe telling you everything you had to know. He gestured you to swallow everything, a satisfied hum filling the air.

When Yunho finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, and the room was thick with lust. He leaned down, his fingers deftly undoing the belt around your wrists. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across your face. Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his usual boldness tempered by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

—

His lips curved into a sly grin as he got up in a rush and knelt between your thighs, his large hands gently pressing them apart. “I think it’s time we really spoil her,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Beside you, Yunho got up from the bed to rummage in one of the bed drawers, taking out a small vibrator. He turned it on, the faint hum of the toy adding an edge to the already charged atmosphere. “Relax for us,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

Mingi wasted no time, his warm breath brushing against your clit before his mouth followed. The first touch of his tongue was soft and deliberate, a slow, wet stroke that sent shivers down your spine. He took his time, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of you, finding the spots that made you gasp and lingered there.

Yunho watched intently, his sharp eyes taking in every reaction. “She’s already responding so well,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He lowered the toy closer to where Mingi’s mouth worked, the anticipation building with every inch.

The first contact of the vibrator was light, teasing—a gentle buzz that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Mingi adjusted his rhythm immediately, his tongue working in perfect harmony with the toy. He alternated between firm, focused licks and softer, swirling motions, his hands gripping your thighs tighter to keep you steady.

“Good girl,” Yunho said softly, his deep voice grounding you as the sensations began to build. “Let us take care of you.”

Mingi hummed in agreement, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of stimulation. He angled his head slightly, his tongue flicking in quick, precise strokes that made your hips jerk against him. “She tastes so good,” he muttered, his words muffled but filled with genuine appreciation.

Yunho increased the intensity of the toy slightly, the buzzing growing sharper as he pressed it closer to your clit. The combination was overwhelming—Mingi’s hot, wet tongue moving with purpose, and the relentless vibration of the toy pushing you closer to the edge.

“Hold her still,” Yunho said, his hand pressing gently against your lower stomach to keep you steady as your body began to tremble.

Mingi glanced up briefly, his lips slick and his grin wicked. “She’s close, isn’t she?” he said, his voice low and rough. Without waiting for a response, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster and firmer, as though determined to push you over the edge.

The pressure in your core built to a crescendo, every nerve alight as the sensations became too much to bear. Yunho adjusted the toy one final time, hitting the perfect spot just as Mingi sucked lightly, his tongue swirling in tight, focused circles.

Your orgasm hit like a wave, your body arching as pleasure surged through you. Mingi didn’t stop, his tongue easing you through the intensity while Yunho pulled the toy back slightly, letting the vibrations fade as you came down from the peak.

“Breathe,” Yunho said, his tone gentle but steady as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip.

Mingi pressed a final kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, his grin smug but affectionate. “Told you we’d make it good,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You managed a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly. “You weren’t kidding,” you said, your voice breathless but full of satisfaction.

Yunho leaned over to untie the belt from your wrists, his touch careful as he massaged the faint marks left behind. “Next time,” he said with a smirk, “maybe we’ll let you be in charge.”

Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “If she can still move after this,” he joked, his voice light.

—

The room was warm, the three of you still catching your breath as the quiet tension settled. Mingi stirred first again, his sex drive being overly high when he’s drunk, sitting up with a groan, his hand raking through his messy hair as his gaze locked onto you. His eyes were dark and needy, roaming over you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice shaky but insistent. “Can I ask you something? Please.”

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression as your heart raced. “Of course,” you replied softly.

He leaned closer, his hands finding your thighs and gripping them firmly, his touch hot and possessive. “I—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “I want you. Both of us. Together. I’ve been wanting this for so fucking long.” His hands slid up slightly, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Please tell me I can have you. I won’t stop thinking about it until I hear you say it.”

Before you could answer, Yunho let out a low chuckle, his smirk teasing but edged with something darker. “Mingi, come on,” he said, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “Give her a second to breathe, man. You’re drunk. Don’t push her.” His eyes flickered to you, meeting your gaze as he softened slightly, though his intentions were clear.

Mingi’s jaw tightened, but there was a flash of something softer in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “I just… I need to know,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Please, I want this so badly.”

You felt your heart flutter at the desperation in his voice. You reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning closer. “I do,” you said, your voice steady, yet filled with longing. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want both of you.”

Mingi’s face softened, the tension easing from his body as he let out a deep, relieved breath. “I’ve wanted this for damn long…,” he repeated, his voice raw with need.

Yunho leaned back slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of your body before returning to Mingi. “You’ve been waiting forever, huh?” he teased, the playful edge in his voice not hiding the hunger in his gaze. “Seems like it’s time we make this happen then.”

Without another word, Yunho’s hands slid under your arms, pulling you into his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. His grip on your hips was firm as he steadied you against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone softer than before but still filled with something deeper. “Relax, sweetheart.”

Behind you, Mingi’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his touch needy and urgent. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck as his hands slid lower. “How long I’ve wanted to make you ours.”

Yunho chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing as he pressed his lips to your temple. “She knows now,” he said, though the underlying hunger in his tone made it clear that he wasn’t backing down.

“She’s ours now,” Mingi growled, his fingers gripping your hips possessively.

Yunho’s fingers tightened on your hips as his gaze turned darker, more focused. “Ours, huh?” he muttered, the teasing gone from his voice now. “Then let’s see if she can handle both of us.”

Yunho, the ever composed one even if he drank as much as Mingi, lifted you up slowly and lowered you even slower on his cock, letting you adjust to his huge size. Mingi did the same but more urgently, he got closer to you, his hands roaming on your body as they settled on your waist and lowered your ass on his cock. You moaned softly at the sensation of being so stretched out, arching your back against Mingi.

“Damn she's taking us good…” Yunho groaned, starting to thrust up and down slowly. Mingi did the same, trying to be in sync with Yunho as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his vocal self never faltering as he whined and groaned out with every thrust of his. Your hands were straddling Yunho's shoulders, steadying yourself while bouncing up and down on both men. It felt so good, so full and so hot.. to be fucked by both. The alcohol in your bloodstream only made it even better. You were not drunk, no… tipsy? Yes. But it only made it better.. the fact that your words were loosened and actions bolder meant everything to you as you've been trying to make a move on them since forever.

Though, Mingi… felt exactly the same. Only that he was gone for, needy and practically begging for you to move more above him.

“P-please, y/n..” he whined in your ear, turning you in even more.

Yunho looked at Mingi and giggled, his words eliciting, “just do whatever, she's all in for it.. just look at her, taking us so damn good. Tell me sweetie, do you want us to fill you both? Hm?” he said as one of his hands rode up your body and stopped on your breast, playing with your nipple.

“Ah, Y-yunho!” you whimpered out when he pinched it.

“Say it, sweetie. I need to know..”

“Y-yes… for fucks sake, please..” you pleaded, both men pounding into you more fiercely when hearing your words.

“Mhm, that's more like it…” and his thrusts started getting deeper, sloppier and wilder.

Both men's hands gripped your waist and thighs down, pushing you on their cocks only to make you take them deeper.

Within a few thrust Mingi couldn't help himself anymore and came, filling you up with his huge load of cum. He's followed by you, your inner walls clenching harshly on Yunho's cock, soft cries and moans escaping your rapidly rising chest.

His eyes widened in surprise and he came, basically being rushed to by your needy cunt. He fucked you thru your and his orgasm as Mingi had done the same and they slowly rode their highs, slowing down and eventually lifting you up and laying you on the ruined bedsheets.

“Wow… that was..” Yunho started, but you continued.

“Fucking hot.” you chuckled out, your legs trembling and head dizzy from all the action. Both men laid on each of your side and caught their breaths.

“We shoulda done this sooner.. I never thought it woulda been this amazing.” Mingi said, his words slurred.

“Well.. That was a damn Happy New Year for me.. for us” you said and the two men laughed softly, embracing you in a warm hug.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

[xechu]

Warm on a Cold Night

♡︎ Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

♡︎ Word count: 4.5K

♡︎ Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, smut, explicit sexual content, oral (giving and receiving), swearing, nsfw, angst-ish, hurt/comfort, ex back to lovers

♡︎ Tags: one shot, smut, ex to lover, hurt/comfort, non-curse au

♡︎ Prompt: Your ex appears at your front door on the night of Christmas Eve.

A/N: Hope you're all keeping warm on a cold night. (Or cool on warm night) ;) This will be my last entry until the new year. I wish you all a happy holiday and wonderful new year. Thank you so much for reading. x

Song inspirations for this: Baby Come Back - Player, Warm on a Cold Night - HONNE, Kiss It Better - Rihanna

You scoffed in utter disbelief, shaking your head slightly. You couldn't believe the audacity of this man—your former lover—who was now standing at your door on Christmas Eve: Ryomen Sukuna. Just as you prepared to slam the door shut, his large hand caught it, stopping you with unexpected force.

"What the hell do you want, Ryo?" you hissed, trying to keep your composure.

"I want to see you," he replied earnestly, his voice softening as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, I don't want to see you," you retorted, clenching your jaw.

"Don't be so stubborn; let me in," he scoffed, frustration creeping into his tone.

"In case you didn't realize, this is my home," you shot back defensively.

"Look, I just want to talk you," he insisted, his gaze steady.

"Talk about what? We don't ever talk." You couldn't hide the bitterness in your voice.

It was true. Communication had always been a struggle in your relationship, which was why the two of you had broken up six times. The last breakup had been particularly brutal, leaving you devastated with a mountain of trauma to unpack. A year had passed since then, and you thought it was over for good. You tried your hardest to move on, but it felt like this bastard had some sort of radar, showing up just when you were beginning to find your footing and utterly ruining everything all over again.

"You're right; we don't. We just end up fucking each other." He smirked, that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Oh my god, you're insufferable. Leave me alone!" you huffed, ignoring the stirrings of nostalgia as you attempted to close the door. It was futile; your ex-lover stood at 6'5", a mountain of muscle that made your efforts seem pathetic.

"Jesus Christ, just let me in, Y/N. I swear, I just want to talk to you!" He sighed, the exasperation in his voice cutting deeper than you expected.

Sukuna hardly ever used your name, a rarity that caught you off guard. You sensed he was serious this time. Reluctantly, with a heavy sigh, you opened the door.

"Thank you," he murmured, stepping over the threshold and into your home, the warmth of the room contrasting sharply with the chill of the night outside.

He glanced around, taking in the rather empty apartment, especially on a night like Christmas Eve. "Not with anyone?" he mused, his eyes lingering on the untouched decorations.

"Why? If I were with someone, would you have left me alone?" you snapped, irritation flaring.

"Probably." His answer was nonchalant, but the flicker in his eyes suggested he meant the opposite.

"Well, shit," you shook your head, actively resisting the memories flooding back.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he watched you retreat into the kitchen. The fridge magnets, still the same, caught his eye. The souvenirs from your travels together—remnants of memories and laughter—a reminder of your shared history.

"What do you want?" you asked, opening the fridge and pretending to rummage through it, your heart pounding.

"I'll take a beer," he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"I only have Kronenbourg."

"That's fine," he said, and you heard the hint of relief in his voice.

You cracked open a bottle and handed it to him. Sukuna accepted it, settling himself onto your couch with an ease that made it feel like he had never left. He stretched out his long limbs, while his eyes flickered towards the true crime documentary playing on your Netflix. He took a long swig from the cold bottle, chugging half of it with ease and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"So, what do you need to talk about?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you sat at the opposite end of the couch, intentionally placing distance between you.

"C'mon, don’t be like this," Sukuna groaned. He reached out, his hand wrapping around your thigh as he pulled you closer. Your skin tingled at his touch, and a flood of conflicting emotions surged within you.

"D-don't touch me!" you stammered, swatting his hand away and awkwardly scooting back to your original spot.

Silence enveloped the room, the tension thick enough to slice through. Sukuna cleared his throat, attempting to bridge the gap.

"Still a true crime fanatic," he mused, trying to make conversation while taking another sip of his beer. The small talk only heightened your frustrations.

"I'm sure you didn't come here to chat about my show preferences," you rolled your eyes, keeping your tone sharp.

"Just trying to ease the tension here," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—he always did that when he was nervous.

I wouldn't be so tense if it weren't for you showing up unannounced, you thought, tsking softly.

"Well? Out with it," you said impatiently, your fingers tapping against your crossed arm.

Sukuna put his beer down. His leg subconsciously bounced up and down. He rubbed his hands together, contemplating on what to say. Words were not his forte, he was more of an actions over words type.

"Let’s get back together," he declared, his voice steady as he looked you straight in the eyes, searching for any sign of hope.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, the audacious request sending a ripple of conflicting emotions. You could only laugh bitterly, your disbelief evident.

"Get back together? You're out of your mind," you said, the dismissal escaping your lips before you could stop it.

"I'm not," he insisted, a slight frown marking his brow.

"What makes you think I’d ever consider it?" Your tone was incredulous, disbelief turning to anger.

"Because I love you, Y/N," Sukuna clenched his jaw, his vulnerability piercing through, "And I'm hoping you still love me."

"Hah, you're delusional! I loved you. But I don't love you anymore." you spat, the hurt surfacing like fresh wounds. "And you love me? As if you ever loved me to begin with!"

Sukuna remained silent, his expression shifting as he searched for the right words.

"Is this what you came here to talk about?" Your tone was laced with frustration, the emotional weight heavy in the air. "We're done here." You shook your head, standing up and making your way to the door, hands clenched into tight fists.

"Wait—no," Sukuna groaned, frustration spilling over into desperation as he closed the distance between you in a few strides. He slammed his hand against the door—hard—keeping it there. You jolted back in surprise, your breath hitching.

"Stop this, Y/N," he hissed, eyes intense, "please. There's no one else. I can't be without you. I haven't been with anyone else since we last broke up."

"No one else? That's why you fucked that bitch, right?" you spat, anger flaring again. You still recalled one of the break-ups you had in between; he had slept with another woman.

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. We were broken up. I wasn't sleeping with anyone behind your back!" His voice rose, matching your defensiveness.

“Ryo, we literally broke up for three weeks, and that was enough for you to fall into someone else’s arms? And in Yorozu's, above all? You knew she had a thing for you, and you still kept her around when you were seeing me! Do you ever think?" you said, raising a hand, "Wait, don't answer that, you just think with your dick. And that’s probably what’s happening right now."

"You know you're being a real pain in the ass, right?" he seethed, frustration painting his features.

"Right, good talk, Ryo. Everything is always somehow my fault. Now get out." You tried to pull the door open, knowing deep down it was utterly useless. "Let go of the door—!"

"I know I hurt you, okay?!" he snapped, voice filled with emotion. "Believe me when I say I’m going to make up for it."

"Believe you?" You turned around so fast, shock coursing through you as your eyes met his. "You have some nerve demanding trust from me after all you've put me through."

Those were the words you wanted to hear long ago, but now they felt too little, too late. You just wanted him to acknowledge the pain he had caused, hoping for a glimmer of understanding. Why now? Why couldn't he do it back then? Your chest ached at the thought.

"It's too late now," you said, your voice trembling, betraying your anger with wavering sadness. God, you hated how you could never seem to hide your emotions.

"Is it really?" he asked, his voice softening, "Is that why you're alone tonight?"

Something snapped within you, all the frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Get over yourself! I'm alone because I want to be alone."

"Are you sure? Uraume told me they saw you with someone last week." He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, rage flooding your veins.

"Is that what this is all about? Trying to keep tabs on me now? So what if I was seeing somebody? What's it to you?" You jabbed your finger into his chest, aggression spilling forth. "You're trying to get back with me just to screw me over again?"

Sukuna grabbed your hand forcefully, his frustration boiling over. "If you were actually seeing someone, I would have left you alone, Y/N. But clearly, you're not, so I'm taking this opportunity to make things right with you."

The intensity of his stare made your heart race, an instinctive response that stirred old sensations you thought long buried. You hated it.

"I don't want to make amends with you, Ryo. Have you ever considered that?" your voice shook, tears pricking at your eyes. "I don’t want to go back into that cycle of loving you and then being completely broken by you."

Sukuna's eyes widened, and he loosened his grip, noticing how your small wrist was red from his hold. It hit him then—how he'd backed you into a corner, just like always.

"It's because of you," you said, voice breaking. "You think I want to be like this? You think I wish to be alone? I don’t trust anymore, I don’t feel anymore, and I don’t let anyone in anymore—because of you!"

"I'm trying to fix things, Y/N. Can't you see? I regret it; I was a damn fool. But I swear to God, I've been trying so hard to work on it—work on myself." He stepped closer, sincerity in his voice. "I knew I couldn't just waltz back into your life until I was somewhat steady. That’s why I took a chance and gave everything some time. I swear I haven't seen or touched anyone since we broke up last year. I cut my ties with Yorozu—"

"You're always like this, Ryo! You always do things on your own accord." You shook your head, feeling the tears spill over. "I don't think you realize how much you've hurt me, and how you've damaged me in ways I can't even begin to describe."

"You come in and out of my life whenever you feel like it—like it's some sort of game. One day you love me, the next day I'm a nuisance! And then you think you can just solve everything with your dick."

"Stop torturing me… I'm begging you. I haven’t been the same since you." You dropped your face into your hands, the sobs breaking free as the walls you had built began to crumble.

Sukuna softened as he saw your vulnerability. You could feel the weight of unspoken words hovering between you. It was like the air had grown thick with all the hurt and confusion, all the moments that had led to this point.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with sincerity. "I’ve realized what I lost, and I’ve regretted it every second."

His words washed over you, stirring old feelings you had long buried. But there was a part of you that still held onto the resentment and anger. How could he think that words alone could fix everything?

"But you were the one who chose to walk away when it got hard!" you shot back. "You don’t get to come back and just expect me to fall back into your arms after what you did!”

“I know—” he interjected, stepping closer, his voice rising slightly now, “and I can’t change the past, but I can promise you that I’m not that person anymore. I swear, I’ve changed; I want to prove it to you.”

You shook your head, battling the conflict within you. "You think I can just forget everything? The pain? The sleepless nights I spent waiting for you to understand what you had?"

“No, I don’t expect you to forget!” He tightened his jaw, trying his best to not raise his voice, but the urgency and desperation was hard to keep at bay. He stepped closer, brows furrowing as if searching for the right words. “I’m here now. I want to work on us. Just give me this chance to show you I’m serious.”

His plea hung in the air, and you felt conflicted. You wanted to push him away, to sever the connection, yet your underlying feelings toward him was hard to ignore.

"What if you hurt me again?" The question slipped out, trembling, as vulnerability washed over you. “I can’t go through that again, Ryo. I don’t think I could survive it.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted to something more genuine, a hint of anguish behind his eyes. "We'll take it slow. One step at a time. I just need a chance to show you I can be better—to show you that I want this. Want you."

His sincerity tugged at the corners of your heart, making it harder to breathe. Could you really trust him again? Your heart raced as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sending a familiar jolt through you.

"I swear it, Y/N, I haven't been the same since you either. Please, just give me one last chance. That's all I need." Sukuna cupped your face in his large hands, wiping your tears with tender care. "Unless you don't love me anymore. Just say it, and I'll leave you alone."

In that moment, with everything laid bare, the heartache and confusion began to blur. A part of you still yearned for him, despite everything that had happened.

"Kiss me, Ryo," you whispered, feeling the weight of your own surrender, breath hitching with anticipation. Without hesitation, his lips crashed into yours.

-

As the intense kiss continued, you found yourself being swept off your feet and carried toward the bedroom. Sukuna's touches became more demanding, his hands sliding down your body with intent. He kicked the door shut behind him, his eyes never leaving yours as he backed you against the closed door.

The passion between you was palpable, a mix of desire and the lingering hurt that had festered during your time apart. Sukuna's hands roamed your body, igniting a trail of fire along your skin. He pulled back slightly, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in your flushed appearance. "God, you have no idea how much I've missed you," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

"I missed you too," you breathed. You watched as Sukuna strips off his black t-shirt. His body was still a work of art, just how you always remembered it to be. You placed a soft kiss on his bare chest and slowly made your descent, tasting the salt of his skin. Your hands explored his muscular planes, trying to refamiliarize the feel of him, the solid reality of his body offering a stark contrast to the uncertainty of your emotions. Sukuna hissed at the sensation, his hands tightening in your hair, encouraging you to continue your exploration.

Guided by your touch, he stepped back, his body brushing against yours as he reached for the button of his jeans. With deliberate slowness, he unfastened them, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want to feel your mouth on me," he said, his voice rough with need.

Your breath hitched as you went down on your knees in front of him. Slowly, you drew his zipper down, your eyes glued to his, you could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. With a swift motion, you tugged his jeans and boxers down, freeing his hard length.

Taking him in your hand, you admired the heft of him, the veins throbbing beneath your touch. A surge of possessiveness washed over you, and you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. Sukuna hissed, his hips bucking slightly as he threaded his fingers through your hair.

You swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the first beads of moisture, then took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you applied just the right amount of suction. Sukuna groaned, his head falling back as he pulled on your hair, gently guiding your movements. "That's it, kitten. Nobody does it better than you."

You moaned softly around him, the vibration eliciting a tortured groan from his lips. With slow, languid strokes, you took him deeper, your tongue flat against the underside, twirling and flicking as you moved. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you pulled back, teasing the sensitive tip with the tip of your tongue.

"Fuck," he cursed, his breath coming in short gasps. His hips began to move, a subtle thrusting motion that you eagerly accepted, taking him deeper with each forward movement.

His breath quickened, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back. "I'm close," he warned, "Swallow it like a—hah—good girl, yeah?" his voice strained. You hummed in response, the vibrations sending him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he released, his body convulsing as you swallowed around him, milking his every last drop.

Sukuna pulled you up, crushing your mouth to his in a searing kiss. "That was fucking incredible," he panted, his eyes searching yours. "But now, I need to feel you."

Carrying you to the bed, he laid you down gently, with tender touches, he explored your body, reacquainting himself with every inch of your skin. You moaned softly, arching into his touch.

Sukuna hovered above you, his eyes searching yours as he sought silent consent. You nodded, granting him permission. Sukuna's hands traced feather-light touches along your arms, sending shivers down your spine. He captured your lips in a gentle kiss, his mouth soft and tender.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his hands roaming your body with reverent devotion. He paused at the hollow of your throat, his lips brushing against your pulse point before continuing downwards. You leaned into his touch, your body responding instinctively, a surrender that felt both familiar and newfound.

Sukuna's kisses ventured lower, his hands gliding over your curves. He teased your navel with the tip of his tongue, dipping and swirling before kissing and nipping his way down to your core. Your breath quickened, your body burning with anticipation.

His breath ghosted over your most sensitive core, and you felt your desire pooling between your legs. "Please, Ryo—I need you," you whispered, your voice thick with wanting. A plea for release.

Sukuna obliged, his tongue circled and flicked, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cried out, your hands grasping at the bedsheets, your hips bucking involuntarily as he drove you closer to the edge. With each stroke of his tongue, he pushed you further, drawing out your pleasure.

As you edged closer to climax, Sukuna seemed to sense it, deliberately slowing his movements to draw out the anticipation. He knew your body intimately, every curve, every response, and the exact spots that drove you wild. "D-don't tease me," you pleaded, your body yearning for release. "We've got all the time in the world, kitten," he chuckled, his lips tracing a path down your neck to your breasts.

His mouth closed around one taut nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing, while his thumb rubbed circles around the other. "Hah—I need you inside me." you gasped, your body arching toward him, craving more. He pulled back, his eyes burning with desire as he took in your flushed appearance.

Sukuna's voice was low and gritty, sending a shiver down your spine. "Does your body remember me?" he asked, his eyes boring into yours. "Have you been with anyone else since we broke up?" There was a possessive edge to his tone.

You shook your head, your eyes unwavering. "No, Ryo, there was no one else after you." A wave of possessiveness washed over him, his gaze holding yours captive. "God, you're too good to be true." he muttered, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Sukuna rose, his eyes burning with desire as he positioned himself at your entrance. Slowly, he sunk into you, his thick length stretching you deliciously. You gasped at the sensation, it felt familiar but also a lifetime ago. "Ryo," you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders.

"Easy, love," he murmured, kissing your forehead gently. "Feel how perfectly we fit together." He began to move, his hips dipping forward. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure.

At first, you whimpered, your body tensing at the intrusion. "I-it's too much," you whispered, your fingers digging into his arms. "Just give me a moment." He leaned into you, his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

"Focus on me," he whispered, his tongue slipping down your throat as he continued to sink into you, his kisses distracting you. You nodded, your body beginning to relax and succumb to the pleasure. "Ngh—" you moaned softly, your breath hitching.

"You're doing so well, kitten," he crooned, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "So fucking tight." He groaned as he broke through the first ring of resistance, his length now sheathed fully within you. "Just tell me when to move." He placed soft kisses along your body, his breath warming your skin.

You nodded again, your body adjusting to his size. After a few moments, you gave him the signal. Sukuna began to thrust in a deliberate and controlled pace, his eyes never leaving yours. "God, you're beautiful like this," he said, a hand tangling in your hair.

Your discomfort soon morphed into sweet pleasure, your body welcoming his. "Oh Ryo," you sighed, your fingers threading through his hair. "More." He quickened his pace, his breath coming in short gasps as he chased his own release. "Fuck, I've missed this," he growled.

As he thrust into you, his movements became relentless, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. "That's it, kitten," he purred, his mouth finding your neck as his hands found your hips. "Take all of me." Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, the memory of his size within you sparking a fire in your core.

Your breath quickened, your head falling back as you arched into him. "More—hah—don't hold back." you begged, your nails digging into his shoulders. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge, your pleasure building like a tidal wave. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent you spiraling over the edge again, his release surging into you.

Sukuna's hips stilled as he spilled himself into you, his breath hitching. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his hips making small, shallow thrusts as he rode out his release. "Take it all." He wanted to mark you, to leave no doubt that you were his, and his alone.

Your bodies convulsed together, leaving you both breathless and spent. Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You turned to face him, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face, your eyes searching his.

"Please don't leave me again," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. The fear of losing him again was raw and tangible, a vulnerable plea for reassurance.

Sukuna pulls you into an embrace, and captures your hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "I swear, I'll never leave you again," he promised, his voice rough with sincerity. "I'm here to stay, no matter what."

-

The two of you lay entwined in the aftermath of your passionate make-up sex. Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he mindlessly traced circles on your bare arm, his gaze drifting to the lighter sitting on your desk. He had noticed it earlier when he entered the room.

"You still have that," he mused, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Yeah… I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out. I meant to give it back to you. I knew it meant a lot, but I was too angry to see you at the time."

"I was an asshole. You owe me nothing. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d tossed it."

"Do you want it back?" you asked, glancing at him with curiosity.

"No, I don’t have any use for it anymore."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"

Sukuna looked at you earnestly. "I quit smoking. Been off it for half a year now." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I figured it'd be better for you if you didn’t have to smell it. Sure, I didn’t give a rat's ass about my lungs, but I can’t risk your health because of it."

Your heart stirred at his words; you knew quitting smoking wasn’t easy, and the fact that he had done it with you in mind spoke volumes.

You chuckled softly and teased, "Wow, who would have known?"

"Hey, I meant it when I said I was trying." He pinched your side playfully, making you squeal, laughter bubbling between you.

"Alright, alright, I believe you." You sighed, a warm smile spreading across your face as you gently caressed his cheek.

"Let’s go over to Jin’s tomorrow," he suggested, locking his gaze with yours, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Isn’t that a little too soon?" you replied hesitantly, unsure of how to navigate the delicate balance of new beginnings.

"Nah, Jin and Kaori have been giving me shit since we broke up. They make damn sure I know every day how much I messed up… as if I don’t know that already." He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Besides, the brat misses you too. Always going on about you, and asking for you."

You giggled, feeling warmth spread in your chest. "Okay, fine—let's go tomorrow. I miss them too."

Sukuna watched you laugh, and a longing welled in his chest. It was a sound he had missed terribly. Deep down, he always knew you were at your prettiest when you smiled. The thought sent a rush of heat through him, stirring something primal. Unable to resist, he pulled you closer and fervently kissed you, the world around you fading into oblivion as you melted into his embrace. You were back in his arms, and he vowed never to let you go again.

"I hope you're ready for round two," he smirked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute or repost.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the photos used on this banner.

[sasheemo]

Friday Thoughts

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Sunday morning’s spicy haze gives way to a heartfelt conversation about your future together. But with Agatha’s signature flair, it’s anything but ordinary.

Chapter Tags: Jealous Reader, Domestic Bliss, Nicky is Basically a Tiny Wingman, Happy Ending, Fluff Ending, Slow(ish) Burn Payoff, Smut

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: Chapter 4 dropped on Christmas Eve, and now Chapter 5 is here New Year's Eve—what can I say, I aim for festive timing! 😬

I know I’m not the fastest writer, and I’m sooo sorry about that, but this final chapter had me second-guessing everything right up until the very end.

It was supposed to be short and sweet. No smut. No Rio cameos. Just a heartfelt conversation to wrap everything up neatly. But… well, apparently I can’t resist a little extra spice and some fluff. So instead of “short and sweet,” you’re getting “long and indulgent.” You’re welcome.

Oh, and fair warning—this chapter has a lot of dialogue. But I promise I did my best to make it… engaging wink wink 😏

This is my first-ever completed multi-chapter fic, and honestly? I’m a mix of proud and devastated to be saying goodbye to it. These two have been living rent-free in my head for a while now, and I really hope this ending does them justice.

Thank you to everyone who’s been along for this wild ride—it’s been a joy writing this story, and your support has meant everything. As always, I can’t wait to hear what you think! Here’s to the happy ending these two (and you, let’s be real) deserve. Enjoy and Happy New Year! 💜🥳

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

All you can hear is the relentless pounding of your own heartbeat, each thud drowning out your thoughts as you search for the words.

Agatha’s watching you, her gaze sharp but not unkind. Her hand rests lightly on your arm—a simple, grounding touch—but it might as well be a flame branding your skin, its warmth sending waves of tension rippling through you.

The weight of her presence, the intensity of her eyes, the way her touch seems to anchor you in place, it all builds to a point where you feel like you might snap. You take a step back, breaking the connection, though the movement is hesitant, almost reluctant.

Agatha lets her hand fall without protest, her brow lifting slightly in curiosity as she watches you retreat.

Your feet begin to move instinctively, pacing back and forth across the room as you try to untangle the storm of thoughts in your head. The soft sounds of your bare feet against the hardwood floor create a rhythm, something tangible to focus on as you walk a short line, turn, and walk it again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Agatha shifting her stance. She takes a couple of steps back and leans casually against the dresser, crossing her arms over her chest with an ease that contrasts maddeningly with your spiraling. 

Her hair falls loosely over her shoulders, the soft light catching on its dark waves. Her expression is calm, almost amused, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips as she tracks your movements.

After a couple of minutes of incessant pacing, you don’t even need to look at her to know she’s probably fighting the urge to laugh. She sighs, low and exasperated, though there’s no real annoyance in it.

“Come here, hon.” her voice cuts through the fog in your mind like a blade, steady and commanding. 

You freeze mid-step, glancing toward her, your pulse quickening at the simple authority in her tone.

Slowly, you approach, hesitant but unable to resist the pull of her presence. You stop just short of closing the distance, leaving a fragile sliver of space between you—a barrier you cling to, as much for your own composure as for a chance to steady the storm inside. 

Every part of you aches to close the gap, but you hold back, convincing yourself that this small distance is the only way to face her with a clear mind.

Agatha doesn’t push, doesn’t reach for you. Instead, she stays where she is, leaning against the dresser, her eyes fixed on yours with piercing intensity. Her stillness feels intentional, as though she’s giving you space to breathe, to think, while still holding you firmly in her orbit.

“Well?” she prompts, her voice a velvety blend of calm and command. “Whatever’s got you pacing like a caged animal, it’s time to spit it out.”

You let out a sharp breath, your shoulders slumping slightly as the tension inside you finally breaks.

“Doesn’t this worry you?” you ask, your voice tight with nervous energy.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, hon.” she replies smoothly, her tone effortlessly confident. “What part of this is supposed to worry me?”

You gesture vaguely with your hands, the words tumbling out clumsily as you try to give shape to your thoughts. “I mean… all of it? Us. Nicholas. What if—what if this gets messy?”

Her smirk deepens, and she tilts her head, studying you with that maddening, amused expression, like she’s already figured you out and is just waiting for you to catch up.

“Messy?” she repeats, the word rolling off her tongue with a teasing lilt. “Sweetheart, the only thing messy about this is how you’re tying yourself into knots over it.”

“I’m serious, Agatha.” you scoff defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So am I, hon.” her voice sharpens slightly, firm but not harsh. “Look, I’m not saying there won’t be challenges. But whatever they are, they’re not anything two grown women can’t handle.”

“So… what exactly is it that’s worrying you?” she presses, her tone softening just a fraction.

Her question hangs in the air, and the weight of her gaze settles over you like a warm, steady pressure. You glance away, trying to collect yourself, before meeting her eyes again.

“It’s everything.” you admit, your voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know how this works. How we work.”

Agatha doesn’t respond. She just watches you, but there’s no rush in her gaze, no impatience—just a quiet expectation, as if she knows the words are there and trusts you to find them on your own.

Her unexpected steadiness makes something inside you loosen. For some reason, you thought Agatha might struggle with conversations like this—emotional topics, deep and vulnerable. It never seemed like her thing, at least in your mind.

But now, seeing her so composed, so unshaken by the storm you’ve brought to her, you realize that maybe she was expecting this, maybe she’s known this conversation was inevitable long before you did.

And somehow, her calm confidence makes it easier to breathe.

“I just…” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I need to know. When did this start? When did you start… feeling like this about me?”

Her brows lift slightly, and for a moment, genuine surprise flickers across her face. It vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“That’s a tough one to answer.” she begins, her voice carrying a thoughtful edge. “It wasn’t some grand epiphany. More like… a collection of little moments, each one adding up until I couldn’t ignore them anymore.” 

There’s a faint trace of annoyance in her tone, not aimed at you but at the sheer audacity of the realization itself. Like the idea that you’ve been occupying so much space in her mind is a personal affront she’s still coming to terms with—and even now, it seems to bruise her pride just a little.

“Like what?” you press with quiet insistence, a thread of determination woven through the words.

Agatha tilts her head, her smirk softening as her gaze narrows, calculating. For a moment, she looks almost reluctant to speak, as if she’s weighing how much to tell you. 

“You remember that afternoon a couple of months ago,” she starts, her tone deceptively casual. “when you showed up drenched from head to toe? It was pouring outside, and you still walked in here grinning like an idiot, dripping all over my floors.”

You blink, caught off guard by the memory. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I thought to myself,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting as if replaying the scene, “how does someone look that damn happy while freezing and soaking wet? And why the hell can’t I stop staring at her?”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, your cheeks heating as your gaze darts away from hers. Instinctively, you feel the urge to take a step back, a reflexive retreat from the intensity of the moment. 

But this time, Agatha reaches out, moving as though she’s read your mind. 

She leans forward slightly, her hand grazing your wrist as her fingers curl lightly around it, tugging with just enough firmness to pull you a fraction closer to her.

“And then…” she continues, her voice gaining that teasing edge that always leaves you off-balance, “You’d leave those little treats from the café on the kitchen table. Like some saintly delivery girl, making sure Nicholas had something sweet after school and I had something waiting for me after work. You didn’t think I noticed, did you?”

“I just thought—” you begin, stammering slightly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“You thought I was too busy to notice, or that I didn’t care.” she says, her tone mockingly serious now, though her smirk never wavers.

Her fingers trail from your wrist to your hip as she speaks, and it takes a moment for you to realize you’ve unconsciously taken a step closer, the space between you narrowing with each passing second.

“And you,” she continues, her voice dipping lower, “always smelled like coffee after your morning shifts. That scent… it stuck with me. Sometimes I’d walk into the kitchen at night, hours after you left, and I could still smell it. God, I started to notice it everywhere. It drove me insane.”

Your breath catches at her words, and again as her other hand joins the first, both settling firmly on your hips. With a final, deliberate tug, she guides you into the space between her legs, her warmth radiating against you, drawing you into her orbit completely.

“And then there was last Friday night.” she breathes, her voice steeped in an intimacy that makes every word feel like a secret. “I came home and found you on the couch with Nicky curled up next to you. I stood there just staring at you both. I couldn’t stop thinking about how… safe he looked with you. How much he trusts you. How cute the two of you looked together like that.”

The weight of her words leaves you momentarily stunned, but before you can process them fully, a darker thought claws its way to the forefront of your mind.

“And the other Fridays?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

Her brow arches, and the sharpness in her expression returns, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes. “What about them?”

“You know what I mean.” you say, crossing your arms tightly, trying to shield yourself from the sudden vulnerability you feel. “All those nights you came home late, looking… like that.”

Agatha sighs, the sound low and laced with mock boredom, yet the gentle squeeze of her hands on your hips betrays her true feelings—anything but indifferent. It’s not real annoyance, more a carefully crafted exasperation tinged with amusement, as if, deep down, she’s savoring how your relentless, probing questions are playing perfectly into her hands.

“Most of them were business dinners.” she says, her voice firm and matter-of-fact. “Clients, potential partners. Necessary evils, nothing exciting.”

“But not all of them.” you press, your voice sharper now, frustration lacing your words.

“No.” she remarks dryly. “Not all of them.”

“How many were dates?” you demand, the jealousy you’ve been trying to suppress bubbling to the surface hot and fast despite your best efforts to tamp it down.

“Does it matter?” she counters smoothly, her tone cool but not dismissive.

“It does to me.” you snap before you can stop yourself.

“Fine, a few. But none of them were serious, hon.” she says, and you could swear her voice is playful, almost teasing, as if she can sense the jealousy burning you alive and is enjoying every second of it.

“Define ‘serious.’” you scoff, your hands coming up to push lightly against her shoulders, but she doesn’t budge an inch.

“One dinner.” she states with a shrug, her tone infuriatingly calm and offhand. “Maybe some fun at their place afterwards, but that’s it. It was never anything more.”

Her honesty stings, even if it’s what you wanted, what you asked for. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the jealousy from overtaking you.

“And last Friday night?” you press, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel heavy as they leave your lips, your pulse quickening with a mix of apprehension and the need to know. “What happened before you came home and found me and Nicky on the couch?”

Her grin turns inexplicably wicked as her hands slide lower to firmly your ass. With a deliberate tug, she pulls you flush against her, your hips colliding in a way that sends heat racing up your spine.

“Last Friday night was a date, sweetheart.” she begins, her tone maddeningly casual, like she’s recounting a a dull anecdote rather than making your blood boil. “She tried to kiss me outside the restaurant and invited me to her place.”

She pauses just long enough for the words to sink in, her eyes glinting with amusement as she gauges your reaction.

The words hit you like a cold gust of wind, and your chest tightens, jealousy fizzling hot and insistent in your stomach. Her nonchalance feels like a knife twisting, and you’re sure she can sense it, her smirk widening ever so slightly as her eyes lock onto yours.

You force yourself to hold her gaze, but the casual edge of her tone, the way she seems so unaffected, is almost too much to bear. A hundred thoughts race through your mind, each one more unbearable than the last. You’re not sure whether to scoff, snap, or step away, but before you can decide, Agatha’s voice cuts through the tension again.

“But…”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, and her expression shifts, the confidence that usually cloaks her like armor faltering ever so slightly. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel the weight of whatever she’s about to say. 

She exhales through her nose, the hesitation palpable as though she’s debating whether to say the words out loud. 

When she finally does, her voice is lower, dipping into a gentleness that catches you completely off guard, each word laced with a quiet vulnerability that makes your heart stutter. 

“When I politely declined her offer… I called her by your name.”

You blink. Once. Twice. your brain firing on all cylinders yet somehow managing to stall completely. Surely, you must have misheard her.

And then she winks. And it’s game over.

Your eyes widen to comical proportions, your jaw drops like it’s auditioning for a slapstick comedy, and you’re pretty sure your entire face is now brighter than a chili pepper under a spotlight. 

At your reaction, Agatha’s smirk blossoms into its full, mischievous glory, positively dripping with wicked delight—a clear indicator that she’s savoring every second of your mental implosion.

“You what?!” you practically squawk, the words bursting out louder and more incredulous than you thought humanly possible.

Agatha chuckles, low and rich, the sound rolling over you like a warm wave. The sheer satisfaction glinting in her eyes is almost maddening, and her hands, still resting on your ass, shift slightly—her fingers brushing against the loose fabric of your shorts in a way that feels far too casual given the bombshell she just dropped.

“No, no, wait.” you stammer, still trying to process. “You’re telling me you, Agatha Harkness—confident, poised, never-misses-a-beat Agatha Harkness—actually called someone by the wrong name? My name? On a date? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to… you know… trip over your own rizz like that.”

She tilts her head, one brow arching in mock warning as her eyes lock onto yours, a look that clearly says, Careful, hon, don’t push your luck. It’s playful, yes, but there’s just enough edge in her gaze to make your breath hitch, like she’s daring you to test her patience. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, no one was more surprised than me.” she admits with dry amusement as the faintest shrug rolls off her shoulders.

But there’s a betraying flicker in her eyes, a glimmer of self-deprecation, and you can tell she’s trying very hard to hold back laughter herself at this point.

“So, you’re standing there, at the end of your very hot date or whatever, and just—what? Randomly blurt out my name?” you ask, the teasing edge in your voice growing sharper as you fight the urge to giggle.

“It wasn’t quite like that.” she corrects, “We were outside the restaurant, and she leaned in—clearly angling for a kiss. I… stopped her before it went that far.” she continues as her smirk deepens. “But then she still invited me back to her place, and… well, that’s when it happened. Your name name came out instead of whatever hers was. Clear as day.”

The image plays out in your head: Agatha standing there with some impossibly glamorous woman, utterly composed until… she isn’t. The thought sends a strange mix of emotions swirling through you—jealousy, disbelief, and something dangerously close to triumph.

“Why didn’t you…?” you hesitate, your voice faltering as the question comes out before you can stop yourself. “Why didn’t you just go home with her?”

“It wouldn’t have made much sense, would it?” she replies with a shrug, as if you’ve just asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Why not?” you push, your heart pounding now.

“Because it wouldn’t have mattered. The whole date was a lousy attempt to stop thinking about the fact that I wanted my hot, younger babysitter.”

Your breath hitches, heat rushing to your face at her words. They land between you, heavy and electric, making it impossible to look away.

“And I knew,” she continues, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial, “that if I’d gone home with her, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I’d have spent the whole night imagining it was you. Hell, I spent the entire dinner doing that.”

The honesty in her words steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you momentarily stunned. Her confession is playful and teasing, but it’s also raw, stripped of any pretense, leaving no room for doubt.

“You’ve been in my head, sweetheart, for longer than you realize. Last Friday night just made it impossible to keep pretending otherwise.”, her words come out almost in a sigh, laced with exasperation, like this whole ordeal has been just as maddening for her as it has been for you.

Your thoughts are spinning, a chaotic swirl of emotions you can’t quite untangle, but the way she’s looking at you—steady, unshaken, and utterly sure—anchors you in place. Her gaze is magnetic, pulling you toward a singular truth that feels impossible to ignore, and there’s only one thing your mind is screaming at you to do.

Your hands fly to her neck, fingers tangling in the soft waves of her hair as your lips crash into hers. The kiss is anything but gentle—urgent, unrestrained, a collision of pent-up tension, jealousy and raw need. 

Agatha stiffens for a second, caught off guard, but the hesitation melts as quickly as it came.

She responds with equal fervor, her lips moving against yours with a commanding urgency that steals the breath from your lungs. When she finally breaks away, it’s not in retreat but with a low, surprised laugh that vibrates against your lips.

“Well.” she drawls, her voice roughened with amusement and provocation, her lips still brushing yours, “If jealousy makes you this needy, I might just make it a habit to mention my Friday nights more often.”

Your face burns as you glare at her, though the heat in your chest only intensifies. 

“Don’t even try it.” you snap, tugging slightly at her bottom lip with your teeth as your voice drops to a playful warning. “I mean it, Agatha.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound rumbling through her chest as one of her hands drifts from your hips to the front of your shorts, her fingers toying lazily with the waistband. 

The casual, almost absent motion ignites a wildfire beneath your skin, leaving every nerve alight and your body coiled tight with anticipation.

She slips one thigh between yours, nudging gently to widen your stance, and your hands instinctively clutch her shoulders for balance. Before you can steady yourself, her fingers dip beneath the fabric, brushing the edge of your panties.

Her smirk deepens, her eyes gleaming with sinful intent that sends a tremor through your knees, as if she’s already savoring the exact moment she’ll make you fall apart. 

“But baby…” she murmurs, leaning in until her lips brush the shell of your ear, her voice dropping into something dark and honey-sweet. “Needy looks sooo good on you”

Her voice alone sends a pulse straight to your core, and when her fingers dip lower, slipping past the edge of your panties to press against your soaked folds, the moan that rips from your throat is nothing short of pornographic.

You’re drenched, embarrassingly so, and the slick sound of her fingers gliding through your arousal only makes it worse. 

She doesn’t even try to conceal her delight, letting out a throaty, satisfied hum that vibrates against your skin. It’s a sound of pure indulgence, as though she’s reveling in the way your body responds so eagerly, so quickly, to her words, to her touches.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp, your voice trembling with a mix of need and protest as your hips buck involuntarily against her hand. “We’re not… we’re not done talking.”

Her lips curl into a grin as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes gleaming with a challenge as her fingers slide deeper, spreading your wetness with excruciatingly languid strokes.

“Oh, I know.” she purrs, her tone dripping with faux innocence as her fingers tease your entrance. “Go on, baby. Keep talking.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to—”

The sentence dies in your throat, replaced by a strangled moan as two fingers slide into you effortlessly. The sound of your wetness fills the room, obscene and loud, and you can’t stop the strangled cry that escapes when she curls her fingers just right.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” she asks smoothly, her smirk widening as her thumb brushes a lazy, maddeningly light circle over your clit. “I’ve let you ask all your questions, answered them, and I’m still here for the rest. But…”. She punctuates her next words with a deep thrust, her palm grinding against your clit in a way that makes your breath hitch. “It’s time you start giving me something back, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God—fuck!” you groan, your head dropping to her shoulder as your hips grind against her hand, chasing the pleasure she’s so expertly coaxing from you. 

Your legs tremble, barely holding you up, and the wet, filthy sound of her fingers moving inside you makes your face burn with humiliation and need.

“That’s it.” she hums, her voice low and approving as her free hand moves to tangle in your hair, tilting your head so her lips graze your ear. “Be a good girl and try for me, mmh?”

“Agatha, please.” you whimper, your nails digging into her shoulders as your walls clench around her fingers. “I can’t—I can’t focus when you’re—mmh—when you’re doing that.”

“Sure, you can. And you will.” she murmurs, her thumb pressing harder against your clit in rhythm with her thrusts. “You’ll think, talk, listen, and take everything I’m giving you, just like the clever girl I know you are.”

Her praise is a double-edged sword, both a balm and a brand, sending warmth flooding through you while also igniting a stubborn need to meet her challenge. Gritting your teeth, you force your voice to form a single, coherent thought.

“N-nicholas.” you stammer, your voice barely intelligible as pleasure and worry collide in your chest. “What about—oh, fuck—what about Nicholas? What if— what if this messes everything up for him?”

Agatha’s smirk softens just slightly, though her fingers don’t falter, their pace steady and relentless.

“Nicholas is smarter than most adults, baby.” she murmurs, her voice impossibly calm and confident even as you whimper against her shoulder. “He’s practically a human lie detector. Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already picked up on something.”

“Besides, he adores you.” she continues casually, as if you aren’t completely falling apart in her arms. “As long as we handle this carefully—and don’t, you know, start fucking in the living room while he’s watching cartoons—he’ll be fine.”

You let out a strangled laugh, though it quickly dissolves into a moan as her fingers curl deeper, hitting a spot that makes your entire body tense. 

“But—but what if he—oh my God—doesn’t take it well?”

“Sweetheart.” she murmurs, her free hand tilting your chin up to meet her gaze, her eyes impossibly tender yet razor-sharp. “Stop overthinking. We’ll handle it. Together.”

You nod weakly, unable to form a rational response as she quickens her pace, driving you closer to the edge with every thrust. 

But before you can let yourself fall completely into the haze of pleasure, another thought claws its way to the surface.

“And Rio?” you choke out, though your voice is barely a whisper now, trembling with the effort of holding on. “What happens when she—fuck—when she finds out?”

“Rio doesn’t have a say in my life anymore.” she drawls, her smirk widening into something downright predatory as her fingers thrust deeper, harder, drawing a strangled cry from your throat. “Sure, we keep things civil for Nicholas’s sake, but beyond that? She can think whatever she wants. It won’t change a damn thing.”

“But—but what if—mmh yes—what if she makes it hard for us?”

“What’s she gonna do, huh?” Agatha arches a brow, her free hand gripping your waist to steady you as your legs start to tremble. “Get all huffy and judgmental? Let her.”

Her confidence ripples through you, grounding and infuriating all at once, even as her pace grows brutal. Your walls clench tighter around her, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable height. Yet one last question remains lodged in the back of your throat. 

When it finally tumbles out, your voice cracks under the weight of it. “And what if you… what if you get tired of me?”

Agatha freezes for a heartbeat, her gaze pinning yours in place with a fierce, almost dangerous intensity that takes your breath away.

“I won’t.” she snaps, her tone so firm, so unshakable, it’s as if the very idea is offensive.

Her gaze drops pointedly to where her fingers disappear into you, sliding out glistening before thrusting back in with a wet, filthy sound, over and over again.

“If you could see yourself right now—falling apart on my fingers, so perfect, so mine—you’d know just how impossible that question is.”

Her words land like a thunderclap and your body shudders violently, your legs trembling so hard you’re certain you’d collapse if it weren’t for the firm, possessive grip she keeps on your waist.

And then, as if to punish you for your suggestion, or perhaps to drive her point home with devastating clarity, she slides a third finger into you without warning. The stretch is intense, toeing the line between pleasure and overwhelming, and you let out a strangled cry that tears through the room.

Her thumb presses harder, faster, against your clit as her fingers work you open. It’s deliberate, merciless, as though she’s staking her claim in every possible way, daring you to question her devotion again.

“That’s it, baby.” she hums, her voice dark and velvety, her satisfaction palpable in the way her lips curl into a smirk against your temple. “Taking me so well… so fucking perfect.”

Her words only add fuel to the fire blazing inside you, and you’re helpless to stop the wrecked, broken moans spilling from your lips as her pace quickens. 

Your body arches involuntarily, seeking more, needing more, as the pressure builds impossibly higher, threatening to snap with every flick of her thumb and thrust of her fingers.

You silently call on every divine entity, ancient force, or cosmic fluke you can think of, just to ensure she’ll grant the desperate plea teetering on the edge of your lips.

“Please!” the word escapes you as a desperate sob, raw and aching as your hands clutch her shoulders. “Please, Agatha—fuck, I need to—”

“Come for me, baby.” her command cuts you off, slicing through the haze like a blade and shattering you completely. 

Your body seizes, the coil in your belly snapping violently as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, relentless and all-consuming. 

Wetness gushes from you, coating her hand and soaking the fabric of your shorts as she continues to work you through it, her fingers dragging unrelentingly along your walls, sending shivers through every nerve.

“Fuck, look at you.” she breathes, her tone edged with awe and sinful pride as your walls spasm around her fingers, gripping her so tightly it’s a wonder she can still move. “So messy for me.”

The intensity is almost unbearable, your cries escalating into a scream that rips from your throat as the pleasure crests in waves, each more powerful than the last. 

Agatha doesn’t let up, her movements steady and calculated, prolonging your pleasure until the last waves finally begin to ebb. 

Her hand on your waist tightens, grounding you as her lips press soft, soothing kisses along your jaw, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of what she’s just done to you.

As you collapse against her, your breathing ragged and uneven, she slows her fingers, her touch gentler now as she carefully withdraws, her hand glistening with your release. 

She presses a lingering kiss to your temple, her voice impossibly tender despite the smug satisfaction lacing it.

“See? I knew you could do it. Such a good girl for me.” she murmurs, her words a caress that feels like velvet against your frayed senses. 

Her free hand strokes slow, appeasing circles against your lower back, grounding you as the tremors in your body begin to ebb.

The room feels impossibly quiet now, the only sounds your labored breathing and the warm, satisfied chuckle that hums through Agatha’s chest.

“You’re insufferable.” you mumble weakly against her neck, your voice hoarse and cracked, though there’s a stifled laugh buried beneath the exhaustion.

“And yet….” she purrs, lifting your chin with a single, deft finger until your gaze meets hers. Her piercing eyes hold yours captive, but there’s a glimmer of something softer beneath the smirk curling at her lips—something achingly tender, almost reverent. “Here we are.”

Her thumb brushes over your cheek, the simple, affectionate gesture robbing you of what little breath you’ve managed to reclaim. 

You blink up at her, still dazed, a faint, incredulous smile pulling at your lips.

“Here we are,” you echo, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of a moment that feels suspended in time.

It’s a connection that needs no embellishment, one that feels intimate and inevitable, like it had been quietly waiting for the two of you all along.

The rest of Sunday unfolds in a blissful, lazy haze. 

After the emotionally charged conversation in the morning, the day slows to a gentle rhythm. Agatha suggests a walk to clear your heads, and the two of you meander through a nearby park. 

The air is crisp, the sun peeking through the clouds as you stroll side by side, talking about nothing in particular—favorite seasons, forgotten childhood stories, ridiculous hypotheticals. 

It feels easy, natural, like you’ve been doing this forever.

Back at home, the afternoon fades into evening. You help Agatha prepare a simple dinner, and she insists on pouring you a glass of wine while you work. 

Later, the two of you curl up on the couch, a movie playing on the screen, your head resting on her shoulder. The sound of her quiet laughter at the film’s witty dialogue makes your heart ache with something sweet and new.

But the serenity is interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Nicholas bursts in, his bag slung over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed from the cool evening air. 

Rio follows, her gaze sweeping briefly between you and Agatha, lingering just long enough to convey a subtle curiosity, before she offers a polite nod. Bending slightly, she presses a kiss to Nicholas’s cheek, her voice soft as she wishes him goodnight. 

Without another word, she straightens, casting one final glance in your direction, then strides out the door with the same poised elegance she carried in.

“Hey, kiddo!” Agatha calls out, sitting up slightly but keeping her arm draped over the back of the couch, her fingers brushing your shoulder.

Nicholas closes the door and freezes the second he turns, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

His brow furrows, and then, with his hereditary dramatic flair, he lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Finally!” he groans, dropping his bag on the floor with a thud. “I was wondering when you two were gonna figure it out.”

You blink, startled. “Wait—what?”

Agatha’s smirk is instant, her lips curling as she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “What do you mean, ‘figure it out,’ Nicky?”

He rolls his eyes with as if the answer is painfully obvious. 

“I mean the two of you! You’re always talking about each other and asking me stuff.” he quips, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re like, ‘What’s your mom’s favorite breakfast?’, and Mom’s like, ‘Do you think she likes scary movies?’. Ugh, it was soooo annoying.”

Nicholas shakes his head, letting out another dramatic sigh as if he’s been a long-suffering martyr to your mutual pining. 

From beside you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a small snort escaping Agatha.

Heat floods your cheeks as you glance at her, but it only makes her grin widen. She arches a single, perfectly smug eyebrow at you, her expression dripping with satisfaction.

“Told you.” she says simply, giving an exaggerated shrug.

You cover your face with your hands, groaning. “This is mortifying.”

Agatha’s laughter fills the room, warm and unrestrained. She reaches out to tug one of your hands away from your face, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so casual yet affectionate it leaves you breathless.

After that day, You and Agatha decide to take things slow, despite the months you’ve already spent orbiting each other. You want to step out of the roles you’ve occupied—Nicholas’s babysitter, his mom—and discover who you are to each other beyond that.

At first, you were almost afraid. Afraid that someone like Agatha, who seemed so independent and unapologetically confident, might be all fire and intensity, with little space for tenderness beyond fleeting moments. 

But slowly, carefully, she proves you wrong.

When Agatha loves, you realize, she doesn’t hold back. She loves with her entire being, fiercely yet gently, as though nothing outside the world she’s built around you truly matters.

Sure, the sex is breathtaking—raw, unrestrained, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. But with Agatha, it’s so much more than that. 

She doesn’t just make you feel wanted, she makes you feel profoundly seen, utterly cherished. Every touch carries intention, every kiss a pledge of devotion.

She quickly learns your body like a map, her fingers and lips tracing each curve with reverence, savoring every discovery as though unveiling a hidden treasure meant only for her.

But beyond the fiery passion, there’s an unexpected warmth, a softness that takes you by surprise. 

Her teasing sarcasm and sharp wit—cornerstones of who she is—remain ever-present, capable of making you groan in exasperation one moment and laugh until your sides ache the next. 

And yet, as new facets of her emerge, they gradually begin to share space with so much more.

At night, when the world is quiet, Agatha reveals a rare, thoughtful vulnerability, speaking of the things that scare her or the mistakes she’s afraid of repeating.

In the evenings, she pulls you onto the couch, wrapping you in her arms as she teases you about your movie choices, only to stay glued to the screen the entire time.

In the middle of an argument, even when her irritation is clear and the sharpness in her tone feels like a shield she’s reluctant to lower, her gaze softens. Against her own nature, she takes a breath, letting the frustration ebb just enough to say, “I’m listening, go on.” It’s not easy for her, you can see that—but she tries. She chooses to stay, to listen, to understand, even when every instinct might tell her to close off.

Each moment is a small glimpse into a side of her that feels like a gift, a quiet affirmation that she is so much more than you ever imagined.

You also come to realize, that Agatha, for all her snarky remarks and commanding presence, craves affection too. 

She’ll never say it outright, of course, but the way she seeks those little moments of closeness gives her away every time.

The way she tucks you closer to her chest in the morning, long before the rest of the world is awake. The way her hand brushes your hair back as you lean over a book, a casual touch that lingers just a second too long. The way she kisses your temple absentmindedly as she passes you in the kitchen. The way her fingers trail down your arm before settling on your waist as you both stand in the backyard at night, watching Nicholas excitedly point out constellations while Agatha murmurs their names with a quiet smile. The way her fingers softly brush against yours when she hands you a cup of coffee.

These aren’t grand gestures—they’re quiet, unspoken reminders of how deeply she cares. They’re Agatha’s way of saying what she can’t always put into words, of reaching for connection in ways that feel achingly sincere.

Agatha surprises you constantly. 

She starts showing up at the café during your morning shifts, always impeccably dressed, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she strides in like she owns the place. 

“I’m between meetings” she claims casually, though you notice she always stays just long enough to leave your coworkers flustered and whispering about ‘the gorgeous older woman’ who sits at the corner table, sipping her black coffee and glancing at her phone like she has nowhere better to be.

When she catches you watching her from behind the counter, her smirk is instant, as if to say, Yes, hon, I know I’m distracting you. And it never fails to make your pulse race.

She spoils you shamelessly, too. Thoughtful gifts appear with alarming regularity—books she’s noticed you eyeing, a beautiful scarf she swears “just screamed your name,” or your favorite pastries from a bakery across town. 

“Stop fussing.” she says one evening as you eye the expensive wine she’s ordered at a rooftop restaurant. The city lights glitter around you, and the cool night air brushes your cheeks. “You deserve it.”

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss her anyway, her hand slipping up to cup your cheek. Her smile softens, that guarded edge melting just enough to reveal the depth of her affection, and your heart aches in the best way.

For Agatha, you could have stopped working altogether if you wanted to. She made it clear from the beginning that money would never be an issue, brushing off the idea as though it was laughable. 

Still, you hold onto your job at the café. It keeps you busy in the mornings, gives you a sense of independence, and lets you stash away some savings of your own. Besides, you’ve worked there so long it feels strange to think about leaving.

At the same time, you insist on keeping your part-time babysitting job, though you flat-out refuse to let her pay you anymore.

That particular conversation becomes a recurring battle. One day, however, you reach your limit.

It’s the umpteenth time Agatha offers to pay you for the hours you spend with Nicky. She leans casually against the doorframe as you fold Nicholas’s laundry, her voice calm but insistent, a mix of exasperation and charm she wields far too well.

You freeze mid-fold, the heat of your frustration bubbling over.

“Agatha, I swear to God, if you bring this up one more time…” you snap, throwing a pair of socks straight at her chest with uncharacteristic force.

Her smirk falters as she catches them, her eyes widening at the sharpness in your voice.

“You’re seriously yelling at me over socks?” she quips, clearly thrown off but still managing to sound incredulous.

“I’m yelling because I’m done with this conversation.” you fire back, your voice louder than you intended. “I’m not taking your money for this anymore. Period. End of story. Got it?”

Agatha blinks, stunned into silence. It’s not often you raise your voice, and judging by her expression, she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

After a long, weighted pause, she finally lets out an exaggerated sigh, her shoulders slumping dramatically as she tosses the socks back at you.

“Well, you’re impossible.” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back against the doorframe with a look of mock irritation. “I can’t win with you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, still fuming, but the hint of a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“You already have.” you mutter, chucking another pair of socks her way.

This time, her smirk returns in its full glory. She catches the socks with ease, her expression relaxing as she throws them back with a playful flick of her wrist. “Flatterer.”

After that conversation, the balance you strike feels so natural, so effortlessly right, that it’s hard to remember a time when things were any different.

You spend your mornings at the café, while most of your afternoons are dedicated to Nicholas. Over time, Agatha begins working from home more often, and those afternoons blend seamlessly into dinners shared around the table, followed by evenings that melt into cozy, lazy hours on the couch. 

Even if you don’t see her much while she works—her door often closed as she immerses herself in work—there’s something undeniably comforting about knowing she’s just upstairs. 

It’s in the faint hum of her voice during a call, the creak of floorboards as she shifts her chair, or the brief moments when she steps out to grab coffee, check on Nicholas, or steal a quick kiss from you in the kitchen. 

Her presence lingers throughout the house, steady and grounding, offering a quiet reassurance you hadn’t realized you craved.

The roles you once played haven’t disappeared, but they’ve shifted, harmonizing gracefully into this new dynamic that feels equal parts exciting and comforting.

Agatha doesn’t push you to redefine everything overnight, doesn’t demand more than you’re ready to give. Instead, she meets you where you are, and together, you explore the space between who you were before and who you’re becoming now.

Five months in, Agatha brings it up over breakfast.

“You know…” she begins casually, buttering her toast with the kind of ease that suggests she isn’t about to change your life forever, “it’d make a lot more sense if you just lived here.”

You nearly choke on your coffee, coughing and setting the mug down with a sharp clink. “Are you—are you serious?”

She looks up from her plate, her expression calm but her eyes warm, filled with a certainty that grounds you even as your heart races. “Of course. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

It does. Deep down, you’d known for a while now that this was where you belonged. Still, hearing it aloud, from her, catches you off guard. But there’s no hesitation when you answer.

“Yes.” you say, the word coming out soft but steady. “It does.”

Everything falls into place with an almost disarming simplicity and, by the end of the weekend, your things are integrated seamlessly into her home. 

Your favorite mug finds a spot on her kitchen shelf, your books line the living room walls alongside hers, and the faint scent of your perfume lingers in her bedroom.

Nicholas adjusts effortlessly, almost as if he’d been waiting for this to happen all along. The three of you settle into a domesticity that feels natural, filled with laughter, shared meals, and quiet moments.

Even Rio seems unbothered when she comes to pick Nicholas up on the weekends. She exchanges polite words with you, her demeanor perfectly cordial, before whisking him away for their outings. 

Whatever tension you’d feared never materializes, leaving you to wonder if Agatha had talked to her privately or if Nicholas, in his own way, had smoothed the path between you.

On Saturday mornings, Nicholas claims the kitchen as his domain, declaring himself “Head Pancake Chef” as you and Agatha lounge at the table, sipping coffee and exchanging amused glances while he works.

In the evenings, after Nicholas has gone to bed, the two of you often find yourselves curled up together on the couch, her arm draped lazily over your shoulders as you share quiet conversation, watch a movie or simply sit in comfortable silence.

Every day, every moment, strengthens the sense that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Yet, for months, you’ve held onto your old apartment, keeping it as a safety net—a place to retreat to if things fell apart, if Agatha ever grew tired of you, if it all turned out to be too good to be true. 

You’d told yourself it was practical, that it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you’d known it was fear keeping you tethered to the space.

One random evening, everything changes.

It’s late, and the house is quiet. You and Agatha are curled up on the couch, one arm draped around your shoulders as you trace lazy circles on the back of her hand. There’s an ease between you, the kind that has grown naturally over the months.

Out of nowhere, she murmurs, “I love you.”

The words land softly but powerfully, knocking the air from your lungs. 

You freeze, your hand stilling on hers as your mind races. For a brief moment, you think you’ve imagined it, your own thoughts playing tricks on you.

But then you glance up, and she’s watching you. Her expression is open yet achingly vulnerable, her lips slightly parted as if she’s bracing herself for your reaction, the faintest flush coloring her cheeks.

Agatha Harkness, who exudes confidence and poise in every other moment, suddenly looks almost shy.

Your heart swells, the response spilling out without hesitation. “I love you too, Agatha. So much.”

Her eyes widen briefly before a slow, radiant smile spreads across her face, lighting her up in a way you’ve never seen before.

She leans in, her movements deliberate yet tender, and when her lips meet yours, it’s as if the world tilts on its axis.

The kiss starts soft, her lips warm and gentle against yours. But it deepens quickly, her hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, her thumb brushing your cheek.

You feel her smile against your lips, a small, unguarded curve that sends warmth flooding through you. When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests lightly against yours, her hand lingering on your cheek as if she’s reluctant to let go. 

Her eyes search yours, glowing with a mix of joy and relief, and you realize that this moment, this love, is as real as it gets.

The next morning, you list your apartment for sale.

Weeks later, it sells, and it’s time to clear it out for good. Agatha insists on coming with you to help despite your protests that there isn’t much left to do, since most of your things had already made their way to her house when you moved in.

Together, you sift through the last remnants of your belongings—forgotten trinkets in the back of drawers, mismatched furniture that doesn’t fit anywhere anymore, and boxes filled with things you can’t remember why you kept.

As you bend down to pick up one of the boxes, you feel the weight of her gaze on you. By the time you straighten, she’s right there—closer than she was a moment ago—her hand curling possessively around your waist, her presence electric.

“What if…” she murmurs, her lips grazing your ear as her fingers slide to the small of your back, “We give this place a proper send-off.”

Before you can respond, her mouth is on yours, claiming and insistent. The kiss is searing, a collision of teeth and tongues that leaves you breathless as she presses you back against the nearest wall.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp as her hands wander, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her. “We’re supposed to be clearing out, not—” your voice falters as her lips graze your neck, stealing your train of thought entirely.

“Oh, we will.” she purrs, her voice dripping with wicked intent. “After.”

What follows is nothing short of ruinous. She doesn’t just touch you—she consumes you, her hands, mouth, and body working in perfect, devastating harmony to claim every inch of you.  

She starts in the kitchen, bending you over the counter with a commanding ease that makes your breath hitch. Her nails dig into your hips as her fingers slide into you, relentless and thorough, her mouth hot and demanding against your neck. The slick sound of her movements mixes with the sharpness of your cries, echoing off the bare walls as her pace quickens, leaving you breathless and clawing for the edge.

In the living room, she pushes you down onto the couch—the same one where you once sat alone, overthinking everything. Now, it’s where she strips you bare and buries her head between your thighs, her tongue working with maddening precision. She doesn’t stop, even as your hips buck against her mouth, her grip on your thighs unrelenting. When you fall apart, her name breaking from your lips, she takes it all, her smirk sinful as she looks up, licking her lips like she’s savoring every second.

Even the bedroom—now a sparse, nearly empty space that offers no distractions—doesn’t escape her attention. She pins you to the mattress with a ferocity that leaves no doubt as to who you belong to, her name a broken mantra on your lips as her pace builds, her body pressing against yours in a way that demands surrender. Her fingers push you over the edge again and again, each climax leaving you trembling and weak, her breath hot on your skin as she praises you through the haze of pleasure.

By the time she’s done with you, every surface bears the evidence of her passion, and you’re left spent, boneless, and utterly wrecked in her arms.

Later, as you sit on the floor together eating takeout amidst the remaining boxes, she looks over at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So…” she says, her voice a lazy drawl. “Think you’ll miss this place?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean into her side. “Not even a little.”

Because your home isn’t a space anymore—it’s her.

Exactly one year after that Sunday morning when everything changed, you find yourself reflecting on how far you’ve come.

It’s Friday night and you’re sitting at a cozy restaurant, the golden glow of candlelight reflecting off Agatha’s beautiful features. Her hand brushes against yours on the table, her touch as natural and grounding as the rhythm of your breaths.

Fridays used to be a minefield, an endless loop of questions you were too afraid to ask, feelings you didn’t dare name. You remember those nights vividly, steeped in quiet agony, where every thought, every fleeting moment tied to Agatha—her voice, her gaze, her very presence—was laced with an ache so consuming it felt impossible to escape. 

At times, you can still taste the bitter certainty that nothing you longed for could ever be within reach. Looking back, though, you almost laugh. 

Agatha had nearly driven you insane with her looks, her touches, her maddeningly unreadable smirks. You’d been so sure you were imagining it all, you’d almost lost your mind trying to figure her out.

But now, Fridays have transformed into something else entirely. They’ve become a ritual of joy and love.

They’re your nights. Date nights. Moments stolen just for the two of you while Nicholas stays with Rio or a babysitter. Whether it’s a fancy dinner in the city or a quiet evening at home, these Fridays are sacred.

You glance across the table at Agatha, who’s sipping her wine, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

Her smirk curls in that way you know will always make your stomach flip, no matter how many times you see it. But there’s a softness behind it now, a tenderness she doesn’t bother hiding anymore.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, her voice low and familiar, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

You smile, bliss flooding your chest. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes in mock disbelief, but the way her thumb strokes the back of your hand betrays her. 

“You’re insufferable.” she mutters, though her tone holds no bite.

“And yet…” you tease, leaning forward slightly, your voice dipping conspiratorially, “Here we are.”

Her lips twitch as though she’s fighting a full smile, and for a moment, you both laugh, the kind of easy, unguarded laughter that fills every quiet corner of your heart.

And as you sit there, her hand in yours and the echoes of your journey fading into the warmth of the present, a quiet certainty blooms within you: you can’t wait to see where this love leads.

[helen-with-an-a]

Christmas Eve (18+)

Did I technically write a Christmas fic back in august? Yes, yes I did. Oh well. Also, will I ever learn to write shorter smut fics? Probably not. Hope everyone has a veyr merry christmas and a happy holidays.

Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: Not much else to say beyond a smutty, indulgent Christmas Eve fic.

Word Count: 6.2k

TW: Smut, 18+, cunnilingus, fingering and strap usage (all R receiving: sub-ish reader; dom-ish Lena)

Munich at Christmas was like stepping into a fairytale, a magical transformation where the city seemed to be lifted straight from the pages of a storybook. The cobblestone streets and buildings, bathed in a soft glow from countless twinkling lights, created a scene of enchanting beauty. The crisp, cold air was rich with the enticing aromas of roasting chestnuts and spiced mulled wine, mingling seamlessly with the cheerful strains of festive music and the lively chatter of holiday shoppers. Every corner you turned revealed a new wonder, from the meticulously adorned Christmas markets brimming with handcrafted ornaments and delicious treats to the captivating window displays. The gentle dusting of snow on the historic city added a timeless charm, making it feel as though you had been transported to a world where reality and fantasy intertwined. It was an experience unlike anything you had ever known before, utterly enchanting and deeply immersive.

Experiencing Munich at Christmas with Lena was like stepping into an entirely different realm – one where magic seemed to breathe life into every moment. The city's festive lights, casting a warm, golden hue, mirrored the sparkle in Lena’s brown eyes, which glistened with an extraordinary brilliance that seemed to enhance the holiday magic around you. The crisp winter wind, playfully nipping at your cheeks, had a special way of turning Lena’s face a delightful shade of pink, which stood out beautifully against the snowy backdrop. Her laughter, clear and bright against the wintry air, harmonised perfectly with the joyful ambiance of the season. Wandering through the bustling Christmas markets and admiring the sparkling decorations, each shared glance and tender touch between you felt imbued with a deep, intimate charm, making the experience even more special.

It was Christmas Eve – the anticipation in the air palpable, like the calm before a beautiful storm of festivity. This was your second holiday season with Lena, and there was a special warmth to the occasion. This year, you were spending it together.

Last year had been different. You were in Munich, immersed in the whirlwind of establishing your new life and settling into your new routine, while Lena remained in Wolfsburg, tending to her own commitments and responsibilities. You had managed to visit your family for a while, taking a break from the hustle and bustle of Munich whilst Lena ad returned to her family, spending the holidays with her parents.

Now, however, everything was different. You were wrapped in each other’s arms, lying snuggled up on your bed. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the gentle, soothing presence of Lena beside you. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, golden light across the room, creating an intimate haven away from the wintry chill.

As you lay together, t the quiet hum of the city outside and the faint, distant sounds of holiday celebrations were nothing more than gentle background whispers. The peacefulness of the moment felt almost sacred, as if the world had paused just for you two.

“Can you believe it’s Christmas?” you whispered softly, careful not to disrupt the serene bubble you were both nestled in.

“It’s gone by scarily fast,” Lena murmured in reply, her voice equally gentle. Her fingers, delicate and soothing, traced through your hair with a tender rhythm that deepened your relaxation as you pressed your face further into her chest.

“But it’s been a good year, I think,” you continued, reflecting on the time that had passed.

“A very good year,” Lena agreed, her words carrying a warmth that matched the cozy atmosphere around you.

You let the question linger in the quiet space, pondering the highlights of the year that had flown by. “What was your favourite part?” you mused, intrigued by her reflections.

“Hmmm,” Lena considered, her fingers continuing their soothing journey through your hair. “Well, football-wise, I’ve got to say the Olympics. I know I wasn’t there for the actual thing but qualifying and seeing all the girls was absolutely insane. Or maybe qualifying for the Euros?”

“And outside of football?” you prompted, eager to hear what else had stuck out to her.

“You,” Lena replied simply, her voice filled with an earnest affection that made your heart swell.

“So cheesy, baby,” you laughed, though your embrace tightened around her, savouring the genuine sentiment behind her words.

“What can I say?” Lena continued, her tone playful yet heartfelt. “I moved in with my favourite girl. I get to wake up with the love of my life in my arms every day. I got to celebrate my birthday with you in person – not just over the phone. You were there for me when I did my knee, in ways I didn’t even realise I needed. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You whispered, your voice a tender caress in the stillness of the room. As you spoke, you looked up at her, allowing yourself to fully take in the serene beauty of her face illuminated by the soft, warm light. Your gaze lingered on the subtle blush that coloured her cheeks, a delicate hint of pink that seemed to glow even more against the backdrop of the room’s gentle ambiance.

You leaned down, allowing yourself to savour the moment as you pressed a languid kiss to her lips. As your lips met hers, you could feel the subtle texture of her skin – soft and velvety, with just a hint of the natural warmth that had made her blush. The kiss was slow and deliberate, a lingering caress that spoke of the bond you shared and the comfort of being together. Each movement was a delicate dance, a melding of sensations that heightened the sense of closeness and connection.

You could taste the faint hint of the mint she’d had earlier, mingling with the natural sweetness of her lips, creating a sensation that was both refreshing and deeply satisfying. The kiss deepened as you pressed closer, savouring the intimate warmth and the gentle way her lips responded to yours, creating a moment of pure, unspoken communication.

You gently shifted your position, moving with a deliberate grace until you were straddling her. Her hands, guided by a touch that was both tender and appreciative, trailed down your body with a soft, almost exploratory movement. They found their way to your arse squeezing gently, the touch warm and affirming as if she were appreciating the closeness between you.

You allowed your fingers to slip beneath the hem of her hoodie, seeking the bare skin of her abdomen. The sensation of her warm, smooth skin against your fingertips was electrifying. You traced light, playful scratches along her abs, feeling the subtle shift of her muscles under your touch. She shuddered below you, letting out a quiet whimper at the feeling.

“Oh, I like that sound,” you teased softly, a playful glint in your eyes as you registered the reaction. Lena wasn’t usually the most vocal of lovers, her expressions of pleasure often subtle but profoundly meaningful. The gentle moans and sharp, breathy gasps she made were a personal symphony to you, each sound a cherished note in the intimate music.

With a deliberate and affectionate touch, you pushed your hand up further, exploring the smooth, warm curve of her breast. The sensation of her skin against your palm was intoxicating. Your thumb lightly brushed over her nipple, feeling the delicate response under your touch. The soft, responsive sigh that escaped her lips was like a gift, a sound that made your heart swell with pleasure and affection.

“I like that one even more,” you murmured with a loving smile, leaning down to capture her lips with yours again. The kiss was tender and lingering, your tongue licking into her mouth with practised ease.

You felt Lena’s hands begin to gently paw at the hem of your top, a silent and tentative request for permission to remove it. The touch was light and almost hesitant, filled with a soft, unspoken yearning. You pulled back slightly, giving her a reassuring nod that allowed her to proceed. With a delicate, practiced motion, Lena began to gather the fabric, her fingers deftly working to bunch it up as she prepared to remove it.

As you pulled the material over your head, the cool air met your skin, heightening the sensation of Lena’s lips as they began to explore. Her kisses were gentle and deliberate, a tender exploration that traced a path across your exposed skin. Each touch of her lips was a sweet caress or a teasing bite as she marked her path.

When Lena’s lips finally found their way to your nipple, the sensation was electrifying. The softness of her lips, coupled with the occasional light scrape of her teeth, sent shivers of pleasure through you.

You couldn’t help but moan, your sounds spilling out almost embarrassingly loud in the quiet of the room. Your hands flying to her head, your fingers locking themselves in her hair trying to keep her against you.

Soon, you found yourself lying comfortably on your back, your hair spread out around you like a halo of soft, dishevelled strands. The cool bedding beneath you contrasted with the warmth of your skin.

As you settled into this new position, your gaze followed Lena with a mix of admiration and anticipation. You watched as she stepped into her harness with practiced ease, her movements fluid and confident. Each motion was deliberate, showcasing her well-toned physique. The harness itself was sleek and black but it was the way it accentuated her body that caught your eye. Her muscles, sculpted and defined from both athletic training and natural grace, were highlighted as she adjusted the straps. Your eyes lingered appreciatively on her form, tracing the contours of her strong shoulders, the curve of her waist, and the firm lines of her abdomen. The play of light and shadow over her skin only served to enhance the visual allure. You found yourself captivated not just by her physical appearance but by the confidence and poise with which she wore her body, making every movement seem both effortless and graceful.

When she turned back to face you, you could already feel the blush rising on your cheeks, a warm flush that betrayed your appreciation. Her eyes caught the telltale signs of your reaction, and a playful smirk tugged at her lips. “Were you staring at me?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt that matched the glint in her eyes.

“Just appreciating the view,” you replied with a cheeky grin, trying to downplay your obvious admiration.

“So you were staring?” she pressed, her tone light but with an edge of mock seriousness.

“I was looking at my sexy-ass girlfriend who is getting ready to fuck me into the middle of next week. If that’s a crime, then lock me up, officer,” you said, your voice dripping with playful confidence and affection.

Her eyes widened slightly at your bold statement, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing in her gaze. “I didn’t know you were into role play,” she teased, her tone lightening even further as she walked closer, clearly enjoying herself.

Before you could muster a witty retort or respond to her teasing, she took decisive action. With a sudden, swift movement, she grabbed your hips roughly, her hands firm and assertive. She pulled you along the bed with an effortless strength, guiding you until your legs dangled off the edge, a deliciously vulnerable position that had your mind reeling at the possibilities of what was about to happen.

“Fuck me,” you breathed out, the words coming as a whisper, still shocked from such a causal display of strength.

“Not yet,” she smirked, her voice a sultry promise as she leaned closer, the playful edge in her tone contrasting with the palpable desire in the room. Her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away.

You watched with a mix of anticipation and admiration as Lena, her movements deliberate and teasing, slowly sank down onto her knees. Your body was propped up on your elbows, giving you a perfect vantage point to observe the graceful way she moved. The slow descent was both captivating and arousing, making you grow wetter by the second.

“Wait,” you called out, a note of concern slipping into your voice. “Your knee, Lena. Be careful.” Panic fluttered in your chest, a sudden rush of worry that overshadowed your earlier excitement. You could see the faint tension in her posture as she adjusted her position, a reminder of her recent injury that had been a concern for both of you.

Lena looked up at you with a reassuring smile, her expression warm and calming. “I’m okay, Schatz,” she murmured, her voice gentle and soothing as she pressed a soft, affectionate kiss to your thigh. The tender gesture was reassuring, helping to calm your mind a little.

“No wait,” you floundered, your concern not yet fully eased. “Uh, here,” you stammered as you twisted your hands around in search of a solution. Your fingers fumbled as you reached for a pillow, your mind racing to find a way to ensure her comfort and safety. You managed to grab the pillow and quickly brought it down, handing it to her to gently rest on.

The sight of her settling onto the pillow, her movements now cushioned and more comfortable, brought a wave of relief. You watched her with a mix of gratitude and affection, feeling a deep sense of care and protectiveness. The moment, while filled with tension, also highlighted the tenderness and attentiveness that characterised your relationship.

As Lena adjusted her position, her eyes met yours with a grateful smile, a silent acknowledgment of your concern and effort. The warmth and appreciation in her gaze were palpable.

“You can continue,” you said with a rueful smile, nodding at her to restart where you had just left off.

“Oh, can I?” Lena replied, her voice laced with a teasing edge that hinted at her eagerness to resume. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and affection.

“Yes, yes you can,” you confirmed, sticking your tongue out cheekily. Your legs shifted slightly, opening up a little more as a subtle invitation for Lena to come closer.

Lena responded to your playful invitation with a smile that was both appreciative and teasing, a soft curve of her lips that spoke volumes. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of affection and mischief, clearly enjoying the moment. Her movements were fluid and confident as she approached, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your heart quickened with each shuffle she made toward you, the tension in the room quickly growing. Her hands reached out with deliberate intention, fingers brushing lightly against the waistband of your knickers. The gentle touch sent a shiver through you. Lena paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. The gesture was playful yet questioning, a subtle way of seeking your confirmation. You met her gaze with a nod, lifting your hips slightly in response to her unspoken query.

With a playful wink, Lena pulled your underwear down, her movements both confident and tender. The fabric slipped away effortlessly, and she tossed it over her shoulder with a flourish.

As the underwear disappeared from view, you couldn't help but laugh at her playful action. However, the laughter quickly transformed into a deeper, more sensual moan as Lena's lips began to explore the inside of your thighs. Her kisses were soft and deliberate, each one sending a gentle wave of sensation through you.

Her lips traced a path along your skin with a loving, exploratory touch. The contrast between her playful behaviour and the intense pleasure she was delivering created a heady mix of emotions. The laughter that had escaped your lips was quickly overtaken by the growing waves of pleasure, your body responding eagerly to her tender ministrations.

You moaned loudly as Lena’s lips finally found your clit, the sensation instantly electrifying your senses. Her touch was both deliberate and exquisite, a combination of short, teasing kitten licks and long, languid strokes that created a rhythm of pleasure that was both intense and thrilling.

At first, you were a bit confused, as Lena’s movements didn’t fall into her usual, familiar rhythm. The shifts in her touch were subtle but noticeable, leaving you momentarily disoriented as you tried to decipher the change. The sensation of her tongue against you was different, more varied and less predictable than the steady, comforting patterns you were accustomed to.

When her tongue moved sideways across you for a second time, a spark of realisation ignited in your mind. The way she was using her tongue wasn’t random or arbitrary; she was creating a deliberate, rhythmic pattern. Each stroke and flick seemed to follow a unique sequence, and it became clear that she was spelling out something personal and intimate. As the realisation settled in, you understood that Lena was spelling her name with her tongue. The cheeky fucker.

“Lena," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat as the pleasure intensified. "Baby, please." The words came out as a desperate plea, a combination of need and yearning that conveyed how much you were feeling. Your body was reacting uncontrollably to her touch, and you instinctively reached down, fingers finding their way to her hair.

You tugged at her hair gently, a physical request for her to continue. Lena responded with a soft, amused chuckle against you, the sound vibrating through her lips and into your sensitive skin. The hum of her laughter sent a new wave of pleasure cascading through you.

Finally, Lena settled into her usual rhythm, her movements becoming smooth and instinctive, like a dance you both knew by heart. Her touch became more assured, each action precisely timed to maximise your pleasure. She knew exactly when to suck, applying a perfect amount of pressure that created waves of sensation, and when to flick her tongue with a practiced flick, hitting just the right spots to drive you wild.

You groaned deeply when Lena’s finger slipped inside, the sensation immediately sending a jolt of intense pleasure through your body. Her touch was deliberate and skilled, the way her finger glided in and out with a smooth, practiced motion.

She quickly added a second finger, the sensation shifting as your body adjusted to the new pressure. The initial sting was sharp, a brief and intense feeling of stretching that quickly evolved into a deeper, more satisfying pressure. The feeling of her fingers working inside you, her tongue working the nerves in your clit had you gasping for breath.

It didn’t take long for the familiar bubble of pleasure to start growing in your belly. The sensation began to build with an intensity that was both thrilling and overwhelming, as if a rising tide of pleasure was gathering strength deep within you. Your breathing quickened, becoming shallow and rapid as Lena’s relentless pace continued unabated. The rhythm she maintained was both steady and relentless, each motion pushing you closer to the edge with an almost hypnotic precision.

As the pleasure intensified, you could feel your body responding with a heightened urgency, each breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The buildup was unmistakable, a powerful, pulsing pressure that seemed to grow with each stroke and touch. Your senses were fully engaged, every nerve ending alive and acutely aware of the sensations Lena was creating.

“I'm... Baby, please. I’m going to. Can I, please?” you groaned, the words slipping from your lips in a series of desperate pleas.

She hummed her answer, a soft, approving sound that resonated with a gentle, reassuring vibration, not wanted to break her steady, relentless pace. You could feel the pleasure intensifying with every deliberate movement. Your toes curled instinctively, The tension in your body was palpable, each muscle taut with the building excitement.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned loudly, the sound escaping your lips without permission. Your eyes squeezed shut even tighter, the intense pressure building to an almost unbearable peak as the bubble of pleasure finally burst. The sensation was explosive and all-encompassing, a sudden release that washed over you with a powerful surge.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, you were left in a state of blissful exhaustion, the echoes of your moans and cries slowly fading into a contented sigh. Your body twitched uncontrollably, small spasms coursing through you as the aftershocks of your climax rippled through your system. Each involuntary jerk was a reaction to the lingering stimulation, a sign of just how deeply she had worked you through the intensity of your orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, your body hypersensitive as she continued to guide you through the final waves of pleasure.

With deliberate care, Lena began to pull her fingers out, her movements slow and gentle, mindful of your heightened sensitivity. The withdrawal was tender, her touch soft and soothing as she eased you back down from the peak you had just reached. Before fully drawing away, she leaned in to place a final kiss on your clit, the gesture both affectionate and comforting. The kiss was light but lingering, a sweet, gentle goodbye to the pleasure she had just brought you, leaving you with a final shiver of satisfaction.

As she drew back, you couldn’t take your eyes off her, captivated by the sight of her in the aftermath of such an intimate moment. You watched as she brought her fingers to her lips, her gaze still locked on yours. Slowly, she licked her fingers, appreciating the taste of you with a hum of approval. The sound was soft, almost purring, as she smiled, clearly pleased with the taste and the experience you had just shared. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and affection.

Lena reached out for you, her hands gentle yet insistent as she guided you to sit up. The warmth of her touch was comforting, her fingers brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. As you adjusted to the new position, she moved with fluid grace, lowering herself into a crouch before you. Her eyes held yours, filled with a mix of affection and lingering desire, and you could feel the magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer.

Without hesitation, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a messy, passionate kiss. The intensity of the moment surged back to life as your mouths collided. It was raw and unrestrained, a collision of emotions and sensations that left you breathless. The taste of yourself on her lips was unmistakable. The salty-sweet tang blended with the warmth of her mouth, creating a unique flavour that was as intoxicating as it was intimate.

“Turn around,” Lena whispered, her voice soft yet commanding, the words sending a shiver down your spine. Her fingers, still warm from the heat of your body, traced soothing patterns up your thighs, the touch both calming and electrifying. Each gentle stroke of her fingers was a promise, a tender reassurance.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, the breathlessness from your kiss still lingering in your chest. As you turned, the world seemed to narrow down to the feel of her fingers on your skin, the warmth of her breath ghosting over your back, and the quiet, heady rush of expectation that made your heart race.

When you finally settled into position, your back to her, you could feel the intensity of her gaze, the way her eyes lingered on every curve and line of your body. Her fingers continued their gentle exploration, trailing up and down your body with a tender, almost reverent touch. She guided you to bend over, her hands gently pushing and pulling your body exactly where she wanted it. “So beautiful”

Lena’s hand remained firmly on your waist, a grounding point that kept you connected as she prepared to take you to new heights of pleasure. Her grip on you was steady and reassuring, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to remind you of her presence and control. The warmth of her hand contrasted with the cool air around you.

With her other hand, she gripped the strap, her movements slow and deliberate as she guided the smooth plastic against your slick, sensitive skin. The sensation of the strap running up and down your soaking pussy sent a shiver through you, each pass sending sparks of pleasure rippling through your body. The coolness of the plastic was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from you, intensifying every touch.

She took her time, teasing you with each slow, deliberate stroke. The plastic slid effortlessly through your folds, collecting the wetness that had pooled there, heightening the anticipation with each pass. Slowly, she sank into you. The deliberate pace she set was maddeningly slow, every movement designed to drive you wild with desire. You could feel every ridge, every contour of the strap as it brushed against you.

Lena’s hand on your waist tightened slightly, a subtle reminder of her control, of how well she knew your body and exactly how to push you to the edge. The pressure she applied was just enough to keep you on the brink, teasing you with the promise of more while drawing out every ounce of pleasure she could.

Your hips began to move of their own accord, instinctively chasing the friction, but she held you steady, keeping the pace agonizingly slow. The rhythm she set was torturous in the best possible way. Each time the base of your strap bumped your clit, you felt a surge of electricity shoot through you, your body responding with a keening need that only she could satisfy.

“Faster.” you huffed, your voice tinged with desperation as the need for more intensified within you. The words came out ragged, each syllable laced with the urgency that had taken hold of your body. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the burn of need coiling tighter in your core. You didn't need to see her face to know she was grinning, revelling in the power she held over you, and how utterly desperate you sounded.

Without missing a beat, Lena shifted her position, moving over you with the grace of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. You felt her gather your hair up into a loose ponytail, her fingers tugging gently at the strands before giving a sharp, commanding pull. The sensation sent a jolt of excitement through you, your scalp tingling as the mix of pain and pleasure heightened your arousal. The action was assertive, a reminder of who was in control, and it left you even more breathless than before.

“Is that how you ask for things, Schatz?” she taunted, her voice dripping with playful dominance. The teasing lilt in her words sent another wave of frustration crashing through you, and instead of speeding up like you had begged for, she slowed down even further. Each deliberate stroke of the strap against you was achingly slow, a calculated move designed to prolong the torture and push you to the edge of sanity. The maddening pace made you whimper, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

"Please, baby. Please go faster," you pleaded, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the kind of raw, unfiltered need that left you feeling vulnerable.

"Much better," she hummed, her tone rich with satisfaction. You could hear the approval in her voice, the way she relished in your submission. The sound of her humming was like a soothing balm, a sign that you had said exactly what she wanted to hear.

With that acknowledgment, she finally began to increase her pace, the sensation becoming more intense with each movement. The sharp contrast between the agonizing slowness and the sudden increase in speed made your body hum with relief and pleasure. The rhythm she set was exactly what you needed, each thrust of the strap hitting that perfect spot, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

You could tell she was close too. The subtle shift in her breathing and soft sounds gave it away. The quiet grunts that slipped past her lips, normally so controlled, now carried a raw edge of desperation. Each sound was a clear indication of how close she was to losing herself in the pleasure, just as you were.

Her movements became more insistent, more urgent. The steady rhythm she had maintained now quickened, her hips moving with a newfound determination that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You could feel the heat radiating from her.

You gasped as you felt her hands leave your hair, the gentle tug that had grounded you moments before now replaced by a different kind of touch. Her fingers trailed down your spine, each inch she covered sending a shiver through you, the sensation both tender and electrifying.

When her hand reached around your waist, you could feel the anticipation build as she moved with the precision of someone who knew exactly what you needed. The moment her fingers made contact with your clit, a spark of pleasure shot through you, so intense it nearly made you buckle. Her touch was deliberate, a perfect balance of pressure and movement that had you writhing beneath her.

She began to rub in fast, tight circles, her fingers working in perfect harmony with the thrust of her hips. The dual sensation was almost overwhelming, the combination of her hand on your most sensitive spot and the insistent rhythm of her movements driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Every stroke of her fingers, every push of her hips, brought you closer to the edge, your body responding to her touch with a raw, undeniable need.

Her fingers moved with practiced skill, knowing exactly when to apply more pressure, when to slow down, and when to speed up, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you. The insistent rhythm she had set became a crescendo, building you up higher and higher, until you were teetering on the brink of release. The sensation was overwhelming, your body alight with the intensity of her touch, the pleasure mounting to a fever pitch as she expertly guided you toward your climax.

“Cum with me, Schatz,” she grunted, her voice rough with the strain of holding back her own release. The command in her words sent a jolt of anticipation through you, your entire body responding to the urgency in her tone. You could hear the need in her voice, a raw, unfiltered desire that mirrored your own.

The way she said it – low, breathless, yet full of authority – left no room for hesitation. It was more than just a request; it was a promise, a vow that you would reach that peak together, bound by the shared intensity of the moment. Her breath hitched as she spoke, a clear sign that she was on the edge, teetering between control and surrender.

The sound of her voice, thick with desire, spurred you on, pushing you closer to the brink. Your muscles tensed in response, every nerve in your body tuned to the sensations she was creating. The connection between you was electric, a palpable current that ran through you both, linking your pleasure to hers.

Each thrust, each stroke of her fingers on your clit, was designed to push you both over the edge, the final push you needed to let go completely. The urgency in her voice was matched by the urgency in her movements, her body driving into yours with a force that spoke of her own desperation. The moment was intense, overwhelming, as you felt the pleasure build to an almost unbearable level.

And then, with her words still echoing in your mind, you felt the dam break. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body giving in to the release that had been building, spurred on by her command. You could feel her shudder against you, the shared climax bringing you both to a place of pure, unadulterated bliss, a moment where nothing else existed but the two of you, together in the throes of ecstasy.

She stilled inside you, her body pressing against yours as the aftershocks. slowly faded into a warm, lingering glow. Her hands, which had been so urgent and commanding just moments before, now rested gently on your lower back, the touch tender and reassuring

The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and laboured at first, but gradually evening out as you both began to catch your breath. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a quiet, shared understanding passing between you as you remained connected, neither of you in a rush to move or break the silence.

Her fingertips traced small, soothing patterns across your skin, a soft caress that sent gentle waves of warmth through you. The weight of her body was comforting, grounding you in the present as you both basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. The air between you was thick with the scent of sex, mingling with the subtle aroma of her skin, creating an intoxicating blend that made you want to stay in this moment forever.

She slowly slid out of you, her movements careful and deliberate, not wanting to cause any more discomfort than necessary. The sensation of her leaving your body left you feeling both empty and vulnerable, a sharp contrast to the fullness and intensity you’d just shared. A soft whimper escaped your lips, the involuntary sound a mix of sensitivity and the lingering remnants of pleasure.

"I'm sorry, Schatz," she murmured, her voice tender and filled with concern. Each word was a gentle caress, meant to soothe you as she eased herself out of you. Her apologies were soft and sincere, spoken in a tone that carried both regret for the momentary discomfort and a deep affection that made your heart swell.

She kept her hands on your body, one stroking your side in slow, comforting circles, the other brushing lightly over your hip. The warmth of her touch, combined with the gentle rhythm of her words, helped to ease the ache that came with her absence. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“C’mon,” she said tenderly, her voice warm and soothing as she helped move your spent body toward a standing position. Her hands were gentle but firm, offering a steady support that you gratefully leaned into. The effort of moving felt almost herculean in your exhausted state, but her reassuring touch made it easier.

“Shower time,” she added with a soft smile, her eyes glinting with a mix of affection and determination. The promise of a refreshing shower was just what you needed to feel a bit more human again, even if the idea of moving felt like a monumental effort at the moment.

“Tired,” you murmured, your voice heavy with fatigue as you allowed yourself to be guided. The weariness in your body was palpable, a deep, lingering sensation that made each step feel like it was dragging through molasses. You leaned into her, finding comfort in her presence and strength.

“I know,” she said sympathetically, her voice a gentle balm to your tired nerves. “We just need a quick shower, and then we can get into bed.” The thought of slipping into the cool sheets, finally able to rest, was enough to make the effort seem worth it. Her words were a promise of relief, a gentle encouragement that made the prospect of moving seem more manageable.

With her guiding you, you began to shuffle toward the bathroom, each step a bit easier with her support. Her touch was reassuring, her presence a comforting anchor as you made your way through the dimly lit hallway. She guided you with a practiced ease, her hand warm against your back, making sure you didn’t wobble or lose your balance.

As you reached the bathroom, she turned on the shower, the sound of the water cascading down creating a soothing backdrop to the moment. The warm steam began to fill the room, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You could feel her gentle hands massage your hips and back gently, her movements both efficient and tender, always mindful of your tired state.

You leaned into her as she helped you into the shower, the warmth of the water beginning to ease the last remnants of tension from your muscles. Her touch was gentle as she lathered soap over your skin, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate motions that felt like a soft massage. The water and her soothing presence worked together to wash away the exhaustion, leaving you feeling cared for and cherished.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you muttered sleepily, your voice barely more than a soft murmur as you burrowed deeper into her.

Her smile was immediate and bright, a tender expression that lit up her face with genuine warmth. She chuckled softly, the sound a sweet, melodious note that blended with the calm that washed over you.

“Merry Christmas, Schatz.”

[mrsshabana]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 ✧ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꔫ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, fluff ꔫ Note Happy New Year! This is a continuation of the Christmas fic I did. I'll link it below in case you didn't get the chance to read it. ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ

:･ﾟ✧ Part one

Ever since your secret admirer gave you that beautiful bracelet Christmas night, you've been communicating with him in secret. Leaving notes outside your doorstep every time you went to bed, and when you'd wake up you'd always find a crinkled-up piece of paper with sloppy handwriting in return.

Gyutaro knows he shouldn't be communicating with you. He knows better than that. But when he read the note that you left for him he just couldn't help it. No one has ever been so sweet to him before, even through writing. The way you went on complimenting him, telling him he's so sweet and kind and how blessed you feel to have someone like him around. It almost felt like a love letter, making Gyutaro's cheeks burn the whole time he read it.

He tries to keep his responses brief but he figured it wouldn't hurt to tell you his name, right? Now you know the name of your suiter. Gyutaro~

You like saying it to yourself. Sometimes calling out to him when you feel like you're being watched. Causing him to sink deep into the shadows, trying to calm down as he gets all flustered.

He's in too deep and he knows it. But is it bad that he doesn't really care?

In your last letter, you asked him to join you for New Year's Eve as you didn't have any plans and would like to spend the evening with him. After a double shift, you finally get home after sundown to read his response.

"Listen, you can't see me. How many times do I have to tell you before you understand? Even though I wish we could... we will never meet. Just accept it Y/N.

You don't need to be hanging around a guy like me anyway. It's for the best.

I hope you have a happy new year,

Love, Gyutaro"

The intent of his words was to push you away for your own safety. That much is clear to you so you don't take it too personally. But, does he take you for some kind of idiot?

"Ha, what are you so afraid of, Gyutaro?" you yell up into the air, knowing that he's around, "Are you afraid that I would reject you because you're a demon?"

As soon as that statement leaves your lips you hear a loud thud behind you. And before you can turn around a large hand is clasped against your mouth and pulling you back against a muscular chest.

"Quiet! How the hell did you know?" he whispers in an inhuman voice, confirming your suspicions. It's raspy and harsh, just like his handwriting.

"Mm mm mm!!" You hum behind his hand, unable to speak.

"Oh... sorry," he mumbles and takes his hand off your mouth. Though he still keeps you held tightly against his body so you can't see his appearance.

"You only write me at night! And no normal person would be able to stalk me like you do. You managed to uproot a whole Christmas tree and sneak it into my home without anyone noticing. Not to mention you said that we should never meet, so I just put the clues together," you can't help but snicker as you hear him huff in frustration.

"You're smarter than I thought you'd be..." he mumbles. Though he can't be surprised. He fell for you for many reasons, and your intelligence was one of them. He just didn't think you'd outsmart him so easily. Or maybe it's because he was careless and let his guard down.

"Gyutaro, I don't care that you're a demon-"

"I'm not just any demon! I'm..." he takes a deep breath to calm down, "I'm ugly. And before you say you like me anyway, I'm uglier than ugly. Worse than anything a mere human could ever imagine."

You don't know what to say. Simply just telling him you don't care about his appearance isn't enough, you know it won't satisfy him. He's been alive for who knows how many years, so he's probably heard it all.

You want to see his face, more than anything. But if it's something he isn't comfortable with then you won't force it on him.

"Fine. Blindfold me then."

"What?" he gasps, "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm completely serious. I want to spend the New Year with you so I'll do it blindfolded if that makes you feel more comfortable," you reach down to lay your hand atop his, conveying your sincerity.

"B-But you won't be able to see the fireworks if-"

"I don't care," you cut him off, "I want to be with you, that's all I care about."

A distorted laugh rumbles out of him, "You got a deal, human."

You're honestly surprised that he agreed. But you know he's serious when he wraps some type of fabric around your eyes. You don't know what it is, maybe some type of scarf or ribbon. But he tightly ties it around your head, then lifts you up into his arms.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"To watch the fireworks. Er- I guess I'll watch them, you'll just listen to them," he chuckles, finding the situation you've put yourself in quite amusing.

You hear the sound of people walking around and talking within a crowd, but you feel the wind blowing through your hair as Gyutaro moves quickly. Surely he isn't running through the crowd of people? No, they don't sound close enough. He must be above them, carrying you onto the rooftops where the two of you won't be spotted.

You get confirmation when he gently sets you down, as you can feel the slates of the roof beneath you.

"A-Are we on top of a building?" you stutter, feeling slightly afraid especially since you can't see anything.

"Heh, wow you really are smart. I come up here every year to watch the fireworks," he smiles, looking up into the sky as it's filled with colorful lights, "Just relax. I won't let you fall off."

He hesitantly reaches over to take your hand, finding himself more confident without the threat of being seen. This actually feels really nice. For once, Gyutaro feels like he can be normal. Not defined by his unsightly face or grotesque body.

"You know what we usually do at midnight, right?" you whisper, looking up to where you think his face is.

"Uh... what?"

"Kiss," you blush and squeeze his hand.

"O-Oh! I see..." he mutters, gulping audibly.

Gyutaro looks down at one of the city clocks. The time is ticking fast and before he knows it it's already almost midnight.

"Shit, do I have to kiss her? Or maybe I wait for her to kiss me... but she can't see. So how is she supposed to know when it's midnight? Maybe I can just pretend it's not midnight yet..." he thinks to himself.

He wants to kiss you, he really does. Deep down at least. Though he knows he shouldn't. He should see you as nothing more than a meal, but you couldn't be further from that. You mean so much more to him than you know, especially now that he's sitting beside you with his hand intertwined with yours.

He wants to be with you. Wants to receive love for the first time in his life. He knows he isn't cut out for it but would it be so bad if he gave in? Just for tonight?

When the clock strikes midnight Gyutaro's body moves on its own. Chasing the one thing he's craved for his entire life, even though he doesn't deserve it. All of the terrible things he's done, all of the people he's hurt, killed, eaten.

But he just wants to be happy.

Your body jolts in surprise as you feel a pair of strong hands grab your face and pull you forward until your lips collide with Gyutaro's.

It took you by surprise, but you quickly relaxed into the kiss. Savoring the moment you've sought after ever since you found out about him.

Your touch feels so good. So addicting.

He knows there's no going back after this. There's no way in hell he'll be able to go on without having more of you. More of your affection, your attention, and the sweet words that come out of your mouth. He needs it all.

So he takes a leap of faith. Removing your blindfold, knowing that once this kiss ends you'll open your eyes and see his hideous face.

He holds you closer, squeezing his eyes tight and colliding his lips harder with yours. Doing whatever he can to lengthen the kiss and prolong you opening your eyes.

Maybe this was a mistake after all.

But you can't help but giggle into the kiss as he desperately tries to kiss you longer.

He's prolonged it as long as he can, and he finally opens his eyes.

Only to see that yours are already open. And... you're still kissing him.

[sebsbarnes]

masterlist

works under each character are oldest to newest

last updated on 1/29/25

requests, ideas, n asks are always welcomed, here

tangerine; bullet train

co-workers ➛ angst, fluff

summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago." warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons word count: 3.4k+

confessions most popular! ➛ fluff

summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know. warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood word count: 1.1k+

the days you meet my fav! ➛ fluff, angsty plot twist

summary: tangerine was feeling the same way. he ran his tongue across his teeth thinking of the way your laugh sounded like a symphony. he shook his head a bit thinking it was wild to even say such things about, truly, a stranger. warnings: none! word count: 2.5k+

a ghost ➛ angst

summary: "are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out OR! ex lovers see each other for the first time warnings: none! word count: 700+

lover girl ➛ angst, comfort, fluff-ish

summary: tangerine saves you from an awful date, cliche realizing feelings afterwards warnings: mentions of killing, language, talks of insecurities word count: 2k+

jealousy

summary: he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle. warnings: mildly toxic dynamic, semi-suggestive (no descriptions) word count: 900+

apologizes ➛ angst, comfort

summary: you voice your concerns about tangerine's profession, to which he doesn't take kindly warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, nothing bad at all word count: 1.5k+

love and grief

summary: you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner. warnings: death, violence, injuries, language word count: 2.4k+

come here

summary: REQUEST! can you do a drabble where tangerine goes to the bathroom and sends the reader a text that says "come here." warnings: 18+!! word count: 500+

psychopomp ➛ angst

summary: it was that moment, underneath the streetlight, that tangerine knew he had no choice but to love you warnings: death, dying, anxiety word count: 1.6k+

a new year

summary: REQUEST! new year’s eve party with tangerine warnings: smoking word count: 800+

friend or foe

alternate continuation to 'the days you meet' summary: REQUEST! where lemon goes to the cafe a few weeks later and talks with reader, they notice lemon wearing tangerine's necklace. reader is also a contract killer and thinks that lemon killed tangerine. warnings: guns word count: 1.1k+

seduction

summary: REQUEST! reader is interacting with another guy in a mission and tangerine gets super jealous warnings: none i believe, making the other person jealous word count: 1.8k+

headrest ➛ fluff

summary: REQUEST! reader falls asleep on tangerine's shoulder on the train home after a mission warnings: none word count: 700+

13 weeks ➛ fluff

summary: it was a quiet night when the walls of your apartment learned that the two of you had fallen for the other warnings: none word count: 800

high school headcanon

summary: REQUEST! you and the twins are a trio and they are protective of you warnings: the slightest description of someone being a bully

new friends, new love ➛ fluff

summary: REQUEST! ladybug ditches you at a work event to chat to lemon while you occupy an unsociable tangerine warnings: mentions of injury word count: 1.3k+

bar fight

summary: REQUEST! tangerine intervenes when the creep at the bar puts his hands on you warnings: harassment, fighting word count: 1.6k+

sunlight ➛ tooth rotting fluff

summary: REQUEST! you take advantage of the empty beach after a mission much to tangerine's initial dismay OR! though the moon would watch over him, he knew the sun was far closer to him because you were in his arms. warnings: none word count: 1.1k+

tangerine intervenes a stalker headcanon

summary: REQUEST! you call tangerine after two men follow you from the station to different stores warnings: talks of stalking, nothing descriptive

scarlet flags

summary: you called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me warnings: suggestive- minimal descriptions, toxic situationship word count: 860+

inked

summary: tattoo artist!tangerine; you meet tangerine's friends for the first time warnings: language word count: 1.7k+

tangerine has a soft spot for reader

summary: REQUEST! tangerine has a soft spot and dynamic similar to him and lemon with reader warnings: none

too sweet

summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that. warnings: none word count: 1.2k+

letters to a loved one

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered. warnings: angst word count: 1.4k

a house is not a home

summary: for months now you lived two separate lives. existing on two completely different orbits, the distance between you growing into lightyears warnings: angst, lovers to strangers word count: 930+

a melody

summary: so you stood hand in hand with tangerine, admiring your lover one final time. accepting that your love on earth will now be a memory for those who knew you. warnings: angst! word count: 350

pda

summary: REQUEST! running from enemies on a job and they end up making out to try and hide from the enemies because pda makes people uncomfortable warnings: brief talks of shooting and guns word count: 1.2k+

pietro maximoff; marvel

hole in the wall

summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him. warnings: fighting, none rlly?? word count: 5k+

phantom pain ➛ angst, comfort

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been warnings: insecurities, none really?? word count: 2.9k+

vincent renzi; anatomy of a fall

reassured

summary: the presence of an old flame causes vincent to reassure you warnings: none! word count: 370+

enticed

summary: vincent can't help but struggle through work with you as the prosecutor warnings: none word count: 645

benny cross; the bikeriders

6 months

summary: so you stood there on the porch taking in the silent environment like you had every day for the last six months, trying to make sense of it. each night you sought solace in your sleep and would forget about the empty space in your heart that benny once occupied. warnings: angst word count: 1.9k+

minho moon; xo kitty

unspoken

summary: there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable. warnings: angst! insecurity. word count: 950+

unspoken part two

summary: you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me. warnings: angst! grammar errors most likely word count: 1.1k+

[msbigredmachine]

☕Roman Reigns Menu☕

☕SIGNATURE DRINKS☕

The Boy Next Door

A sexy mysterious man is new in town…but mystery is not all he brings with him… (Co-written with @harmshake) AU. [In Progress]

Power Couple - The Series

They say, “Behind every great man stands a great woman”. But behind the Universal Champion and the Tribal Chief is a different breed of woman, a force of nature capable of bringing even the Head of the Table to his knees…and vice versa. [Completed]

Into The Deep End - The Saga

Sasha has always tried to play it safe, to keep her life as simple and risk-free as possible. Things change, however, when she garners the interest of a handsome, charming, younger man from a completely different world than hers. As she starts to question her own rules, is she ready to take the biggest chance of them all? Will she let herself take that dive? My very first Roman fic set circa 2014. [Completed]

Targets 

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)  [Completed]

Roman & Jaida: The We Are Series 

He’s not her most favorite person in the world, but she finds it in her heart to be there for him in his time of need. In return, he shows her just how much he appreciates it. Set around the events of the 2015 Royal Rumble and the Blizzard Raw the night after. [Completed]

You Consume Me

She was beautiful, tempting, carefree, and everything I thought I wanted in a woman. One taste and I was hooked, abandoning everything and everyone I cared about to be with her. What I failed to see was the other side of her; a side that was dark, dangerous…Deadly.  [Completed]

Come What May 

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. So why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life? (Roman Reigns/OC/Tama Tonga)  [Completed]

☕DOUBLE SHOTS☕

You Again 

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series [Completed]

Talking Body 

Photoshoots, lingerie and a long overdue baecation are in store for Roman and Gia heading into their five-year(ish) anniversary. Let’s hope it all goes off without a hitch. [Completed]

☕SPECIALTY BREWS☕

Off The Record - When passion gets recorded, it becomes the hottest track of the year. Roman/Black Fem Rapper!OC

Midnight Sparks - On New Year’s Eve, the OTC retreats to a quiet bar, craving solitude. When a confident and captivating woman crosses his path, their connection ignites, turning a quiet night into something unforgettable.

An Angelic Christmas🎄- On their first Christmas together, Roman and Naima share heartfelt gifts, tender moments, and an intimate celebration that deepens their connection. (Prelude on my upcoming fic, Finding Angel)

Nothing Left - The tale of a marriage built on trust, torn apart by lies, and a woman’s breaking point that should never have been reached.

Handsy - When the OTC asks for help and you oblige him, he’s very happy to return the favor.

Behind The Mask -  Sometimes love demands that you fight not for yourself—but for someone who can’t fight back.

Cheat Meal - The OTC is hungry for a whole lot more than just good food.

Butterscotch & Chocolate - What’s better than a hunky, rich and powerful Samoan boyfriend? Why, two, of course! (Roman Reigns/OC/The Rock)

Kitty Kat - After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post-Summerslam 2024.

Black Sweatpants - Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman’s appearance on March 22 2024.

Checkmate - The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Santa Daddy🎄- All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

Sugar & The Chief - Reader is a best-selling erotic author reflecting on the success of her newest novel, which is based on her secret affair with the man who became her muse.

Say Cheese - A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K. 

In Peace - When one of the Wiseman’s incessant phone calls comes at the wrong time 🙄.

Here With Me - As the Bloodline Civil War takes an unexpected turn of events, Reader comes up with the perfect pick-me-up for her Tribal Chief. Post-Summerslam 2023.

M.K.A.M. (My Kinda Morning) - Who says birthday sex has to end after the birthday?

Dirty Little Secret - They are each other’s escape, too good to let go of. Until they have to let go.

I Still Heart You - This year, Valentine’s Day takes an interesting turn for two exes.

Latch - The most meaningful conversations take place in the shower. 

Daddy The Sub - The Tribal Chief comes home to receive his punishment.

Feedback - The Tribal Chief loves it when you tell show him how much you like his promos. Set after that epic unification contract signing segment of Feb 25, 2022

Sex On The Beach - Remember that “Running Around Naked” promo the Tribal Chief cut some months ago? Well, this is exactly what happened on the private island…in my mind at least.

Boss Lady - It’s always good to have a close working relationship with your boss. But what if you want to be closer? More importantly, what if the feeling is mutual? AU.

I Won’t Let You Fall -She was ready to give up on herself, but one man had to let her know he was not ready to lose her, even if it meant revealing a certain secret he’d kept to himself for years. 

Gold Digger - Roman is having a hard time getting rid of his gold-digging ex-wife. What exactly does he have to do to get her out of his life permanently? AU.

Believe - Still hurting from a nasty breakup, Livia is convinced that love does not exist. But Roman decides to prove her wrong…in the most romantic way possible.

The One That Got Away - On the biggest night of her career, Hollywood movie star Beverley Tyler looks back on what might have been. There are things more important than fame and fortune. Beverley learned that the hard way. 

The Mechanic - An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. AU.

☕ESPRESSO SHOTS☕

Kiss Me (200 Words in May Challenge)

All banners made by me.

Credit to all the owners of the pictures and gifs.

Divider by @thecutestgrotto

Please don't steal my content. Thank you!

[bbtsficrecs]

BTS FIC RECS PART 4 Part 4 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡ There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |

​⊹ Hell Is Empty - drabble Love triangle AU | a | @aquagustd​ ‣ An important phone call between Yoongi & OC.

⊹ You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had  Boyfriend Jungkook, Chubby reader | a, f, s | @adoredcore​​ ‣ Jungkook’s touches were so soft. So soft you almost barely even felt them. Keyword: almost. His smooth fingertips ran along your silky skin, while the tip of his pink tongue ran across the nape of your neck.

⊹ Fool Me Once Fuckboy AU | a, s | @jeonqkooks​​​ ‣ You never expect anything from Jungkook, but somehow he always manages to let you down.

⊹ Attitude CEO Jungkook au | s | @lushtans​​​ ‣ Your relationship with your CEO is... Rather complicated. Aside your professional relationship, he fucks you whenever he feels like it and as much as you hate to admit the truth, you love it. 

⊹ Don't Worry, Be Happy Daddy Jungkook AU, | f | @jvngkook97 ‣ "You guys have been trying to conceive for a little over a year now, but have yet to be fully successful."

⊹ Trap Idol Jungkook AU, | f | @jiminpitys ‣ In which you show up at your boyfriend's concert soundcheck as a surprise, and to your own, he’s wearing an outfit that’s bound to make you feel a certain way.

⊹ Addicted College AU, | f , s | @sparklingchim ‣ Your boyfie Jungkook fucking you silly.

⊹ B i g o l e f r e a k Friends with benefits AU | f , s | @joonberriess ‣ You’re both exclusive only to each other. Jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Paint me naked Artist Jungkook AU | f , s, a | @gimmethatagustd ‣ After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?  

⊹ Why are you so late? Idol Jungkook AU | f , s | @kimnjss

‣ With such a packed scheduled, you’d think Jungkook would be on top of his game. But when a morning rolling around the sheets with you is thrown into the mix, it’s expected for him to want to take his time.

⊹ Our beloved summer - Series (on-going) Producer Jungkook AU | f, s, a | @jeonqkooks ‣ You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

⊹ Heaven can wait Chubby reader AU | f, s ish | @adoredcore ‣ "What’s a chance I’ll take baby I’ll stay heaven can wait."

⊹ Midnight cravings Established relationship AU | f | @hobiholic ‣ You want to go to the convenience store late at night to fulfill your midnight cravings but a sleepy Jungkook stops you.

⊹ Wet dreams Somnophilia AU | s | @kookiecrumb ‣ “I want you to use me…whenever you need me,”

⊹ Look at you -  Risqué drabble Risqué couple AU | s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Mirror shopping with your boyfriend turns into something else entirely.

⊹ In the middle of the night Friends with benefits AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ It’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you

⊹ Like I'm famous Idol Jungkook AU | s, f | @softyoongiionly ‣ It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to…

⊹ Strangers to lovers Established relationship AU | s | @kissmetae ‣ You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush…

⊹ My dear friends Friends to lovers AU | s, f, a | @kooktrash ‣ Just friends? Keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

⊹ Red - Part 03 Pregnancy AU | s, f, a | @taestefully-in-luv ‣ You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

⊹ As we were - Series (on-going) Cheating/Infidelity AU | s, a | @archivedkookie ‣ Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

⊹ Imagine Model Jungkook AU | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching TV shows. You, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind. 

⊹ Practice - part 02, 03 Fuckboy Jungkook AU | s, a | @chryblossomjjk ‣ You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⊹ Lost Cause Cheating AU | a | @kooksbunnnn ‣ Jungkook comes back to you after his 10 day trip to Busan, and you sense something different about him. 

⊹ The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes Idol AU | a, s, f | @oddinary4bts ‣ You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

⊹ Beyond Infinity - As We Were drabble As We Were Couple AU | a, s, f | @archivedkookie ‣ Jungkook does something you always dreamt about, and it ends up with the most beautiful night of your life.

⊹ What If I Love You Too Much Single Mom AU | a, s, f | @taleasnewastime ‣ Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

⊹ Services For A Queen Sub!JK AU | s | @taegonia ‣ Jungkook serves his queen in more ways than just as the royal head of security.

⊹ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines FWB & College AU | a, s, f | @awrkive ‣ Jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. But as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. Is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? It definitely is. Will you do something about it? Both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

⊹ Strictly Platonic Bestfriends to Lovers & College AU | a, s, f | @jeonqkooks ‣ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

⊹ In The Middle Of The Night FWB AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣  it’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you ⊹ Perfectionist Dancer AU | s | @miraclesatnightfall ‣ "He watched you, with each sensual step you made his eyes darkened with explicit desire" ⊹ Tangle Free Establish Relationship AU | f | @here4btsfics ‣ Bad days lead to you needing your boyfriend for comfort, specifically by playing with his hair.

⊹ As It Was - Apart of Boy With Love Series (on-going) College AU | a | @ggukiepie ‣ You bump into Jungkook days after you find out he has a girlfriend; things don't go so well

⊹ The Habits Of A Broken Heart Soulmate & Unrequited love AU | a, f | @softykooky ‣ Jungkook and you are soulmates. So says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. However, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.  ⊹ Blackout - part 02, 03 Best friends to Lovers | s, a, f | @jjungxkook ‣ Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

⊹ Step Brother Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ Sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games.

⊹ Forbidden Romance Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ "It wasn’t unusual for your stepbrother to check up on you before bed. You’ve grown closer than you initially thought you would; it turned out that beneath the surface, you and Jungkook weren’t that different, after all."

⊹ My Perfect Patient Dentist Office AU | s, f | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Jaw pain is just as much of a pain in the mouth as it is in the ass, but don't worry, your favorite dentist is sure to fix you right up, using some special methods.

⊹ Confessions - part 02 Office AU | a | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Since we're about to die, I need you to know, I've always loved you, Jungkook.

⊹ Getting Railed Boyfriend Jungkook AU | s | @dearlytea ‣ Getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

⊹ Make You Mine College AU | a, s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ Catch 22 College AU | s, f | @alluremin ‣ You and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. Who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

⊹ Tolerate It - part 02 Failing marriage! au | a | @lmaosope ‣ Marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.

⊹ Make You Mine Jock Jk au | a , s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ His Throne - 01, 02, 03 Prince JK au | a, s, f | @jiminsa ‣ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jeon Jungkook on his throne.

[thenaughtynorth]

Happy New Years

Here’s a lil new years dabble dabble

Damian Priest x female reader

No warnings just some tension, pining and a lil kiss

Word count: 700-ish

—

The snow was falling softly outside, muffling the sounds of the world and casting a silvery glow over the city. Inside the dimly lit loft, the air was thick with the hum of low music and murmured conversations. Damian Priest stood near the window, a glass of bourbon dangling from his hand as he stared out at the New Year’s Eve fireworks in the distance. He wasn’t paying attention to the countdown, nor the party around him. His focus kept drifting back to her.

She was across the room, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, her laughter soft but genuine as she chatted with one of their mutual friends. She was radiant tonight, wearing a sleek black dress that caught the light with every small movement, her hair cascading in waves over her shoulders. Damian could barely keep his eyes off her—and he didn’t really try to.

For weeks now, their exchanges had been charged with something neither of them spoke about. Glances that lingered a moment too long, brushes of fingers that felt like fire, and conversations laced with double meanings. Both knew exactly what was simmering between them, but neither dared to act. Until tonight.

She turned her head suddenly, her eyes meeting his across the crowded room. The rest of the world fell away. She didn’t look away, and neither did he. The tension stretched between them like a taut wire, pulling tighter with every second. His pulse quickened, but he didn’t move. Not yet. Not until he knew she wanted him to.

Finally, she broke the moment, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips before she turned back to her conversation. He exhaled sharply, downing the last of his bourbon. The waiting was maddening, but it was worth it to savor every moment.

As the night wore on, their paths kept crossing—her hand grazing his arm as she passed him to grab a drink, his low voice brushing against her ear as he leaned in to tell her something inconsequential. The heat between them was undeniable, an electric undercurrent that grew stronger with each stolen glance.

The countdown began.

“Ten!” Their friends shouted, raising their glasses. Damian’s heart raced as he locked eyes with her again, this time only a few feet away. She was closer now, her gaze steady and her expression soft but unmistakably daring. He was sure now; that was an invitation.

“Nine!” The sound blurred around them as she took a step closer. He felt his breath catch, her scent intoxicating as she leaned in slightly.

“Eight!”

“You’ve been staring all night,” she said quietly, her voice low and teasing, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Seven!”

“Can you blame me?” he murmured back, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Six!”

Her lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Five!”

“Neither are you,” he countered, his voice dropping to a whisper as his gaze dropped to her lips.

“Four!”

The tension snapped as she stepped even closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of her body, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. “Are you waiting for permission?” she asked softly, her tone daring.

“Three!”

“I’m done waiting,” he whispered.

“Two!”

“So am I,” she breathed.

“One!”

The clock struck midnight, and the room erupted into cheers and shouts of “Happy New Year!” But none of it mattered. Not the noise, not the people around them. The only thing that existed was the moment their lips met.

Damian slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as their mouths collided in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. She responded instantly, her fingers gripping the lapels of his jacket as she melted into him. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and for the first time all night, the tension between them broke, replaced by something even more powerful.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as though they were both trying to make up for the weeks of restraint, for all the moments they could have acted but didn’t. When they finally broke apart, her hair was messy, and her breath was coming in fast. Damian couldn’t help but grin, his thumb tracing her jaw as he looked into her eyes.

“Happy New Year,” she said softly, her voice still breathless.

“Best one yet,” he replied, his thumb tracing her jaw.

The cheers around them began to fade as their friends returned to their conversations and champagne flutes, but Damian and her didn’t move. The tension that had defined their every interaction was gone, replaced by an unspoken promise—one that carried the weight of new beginnings and the undeniable certainty that this, whatever it was between them, was only just beginning.

[lucawrites11]

navigation post

hi, you can call me luca. i'm 20, use they/them pronouns and i am the anonymous writing the woso bits and bobs series on ao3

my asks are always open, please send me your questions, thoughts, headcanons, prompts, requests etc. (i do see them all but i will only reply to prompts/requests when i write them)

i am a lifelong newcastle united fan and currently just follow a load of woso teams while i wait for them to get out of the third tier of english football this includes but is not limited to arsenal, barcelona and man city and never includes chelsea for personal reasons. i love football tactics and stuff as well and always love to talk about it :))

(i just want to add that this is my secondary blog so if you don't see me interacting with posts and other blogs - it's because i can't)

masterlist:

leah williamson/alessia russo

make this the best dream i've ever known

complete: seven chapters

alessia invites leah over after united play arsenal for lasagne

[a hint of slow burn, first kiss, euros 2022]

i can't keep up

complete: one shot

alessia misses the uwcl qualifying penalty and breaks down

[hurt/comfort, established relationship]

maybe i should have called you first (but i was dying to get to you)

complete: six chapters

five times leah and alessia drive three hours to see each other and one time they don't need to anymore

[5+1, fluff, established relationship, acls]

you said it looked better on me than it did you

complete: one shot

leah steals alessia's clothes, alessia gets her revenge

[fluff, sharing clothes, wwc 2023]

tears are the words the heart can't say

complete: one shot

leah does her acl playing her girlfriend's team

[hurt/comfort, major character injury]

for better, for worse

complete: one shot

leah deals with endometriosis after a concussion

[hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship]

is forever enough? (the series)

if i know what love is, it's because of you

complete: one shot

prequel: leah and alessia's chaotic proposals (can be read as a standalone)

[marriage proposals, idiots in love]

how long do you wanna be loved? (is forever enough?)

complete: twenty-nine chapters

leah and alessia's journey to expanding their little family

[ivf, pregnancy, SO MUCH FLUFF, marriage]

never knew the best was yet to come

incomplete: chapter two of thirteen

emilia russo-williamson is here, follow the first thirteen months of her life

[kid!fic, fluff, marriage]

jenni hermoso/alexia putellas

it's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday

complete: three chapters

jenni and alexia have been broken up for over a year and are living in different countries but then they have the world cup

[angst with a happy ending, fluff, suggestive, slow burn (ish)]

mapi leon/ingrid engen

i wouldn't know where to start

complete: one shot

ingrid has just opened her own tattoo studio in barcelona. mapi goes along to check it out and develops a crush

[fluff, getting together, tattoo artist au]

hei!

incomplete: chapter five of six

mapi has a crush on the pretty new midfielder on the team and ingrid has a pretty big secret

[fluff, angst with a happy ending, kid!fic, sick!fic, coffee]

ellie carpenter/daniëlle van de donk

you'll always be my favorite new year's kiss

complete: one shot

ellie and daan get together in new year's eve

[age gap relationship, first kiss]

you know what the best part of today was? i got the chance to fall in love with you all over again

one shot collection

ellie meets daan's daughter as her girlfriend after dating for almost a year

[fluff, kid!fic]

evie bronze

the missing pieces (of our souls)

one shot collection

lucy's daughter, evie bronze, is iconic in the women's football world

[lucy/ona, past lucy/keira, keira/laura, fluff, angst with a happy ending]

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Look After You (Christmas Fic) - Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader

[moodboard for moodboard’s sake]

Summary: It’s the first time you’ve had Frankie home for the entire month of December, and you have some exciting news for him.

content/warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader & frankie are married, they have a daughter, girl dad frankie, classic christmas (no sad beige bullshit here), reader is pregnant, pregnancy announcement, their daughter is rambunctious & sweet, daughter is named Valentina (Val for short), Santiago appearance, alcohol mention (santi and frank have a beer lol), these two are so sweet you wanna throw up [2k-ish words]

a/n: okay first fic on tumblr, this feels weird. and yeah it’s wayyyy too early for Christmas but i hate that it’s snowing where i am and im pretending im happy about it (aka writing fics about Christmas) let me know what you think!!! <3

Christmas had stopped being a time to relax a long time ago. Even more so once you had your daughter. And your husband. But, Frankie was plenty of help, this evening, among many others, he’d offered to completely take over the bedtime duties for Valentina, that you normally split 50/50, so you could have some time to yourself, which you opted to wrap gifts.

It was the 23rd, and the wrapping was a little late admittedly. He’d offered everything under the sun, a hot bath, a home cooked meal, etc. You’d chosen to wrap gifts. This was the first year you got to spend the entire month with him. And Val was three. You settled down on your bed, with a bunch of gift bags, wrapping paper and a few bows. The gifts you planned for your daughter on your left, and a few for your husband on the right.

By 7 o’clock, you’d wrapped everything. Gift tags were what you had left. In your hand writing, you started to write your first name. On your daughter’s gift. You silently laughed at yourself, trying again, with a different tag, addressing it to Val, from Mama.

You’d never get used to it in the best of ways.

You smiled at the tag, feeling stupid. Stupidly happy. The amount of joy that children got out of Christmas, would last forever, and seeing the joy from your daughter made all the work worth it.

Then you got down to your husband’s little stack. A few useful items he’d asked for, a book he’d wanted, and a framed photo of the two of you. One from the day you told him you were pregnant with Val. Taken on a digital camera, he’s smiling wide, genuinely, while you press a kiss to his cheek. He had been trying to find time to get all the photos printed off the camera and frame some, specifically that one to put on his nightstand. You wrapped that last.

Cause that wasn’t the only part of the gift. You had a letter, and more importantly, a pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

You looked at it for a moment, you only found out a few days ago, and decided you’d surprise him on Christmas Eve, with the photo.

A swift knock was put on the bedroom door, to which you hid everything at your side, throwing your sweater over it. “Francisco Morales if you walk in here you may not live to see Christmas Day.” You call out, in a joking tone, as the door cracked open.

“Hey there, Mrs. Catfish.” You place the voice immediately. Santiago. “Heard you were wrapping gifts in here?”

“Yeah, you’re safe.” You chuckle lightly, standing up off the bed to hug him as he stepped in to greet you. “What’re you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him with a smile on your face.

“Holy…shit.” You furrow your brows, hearing his tone as you pull back, following his gaze. Fuck. “Looks like it’s Mama Fish of two.” He chuckled, looking back at you with a smile before you shushed him quickly.

He got a kick out of the nickname he’d come up with when he’d found out about Val.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You smile, the reality kicking in a little. “Frankie’s supposed to find out Christmas Eve so keep it zipped.” He chuckles again, taking it to heart.

“How far along?” He asks as you made an effort to finish putting everything neatly into its little box, and labeling it with his name.

“Four weeks. Only found out on the 19th.” You say quietly, stuffing presents into the closet, behind some storage boxes, stacking a few spare blankets over it for good measure.

“Damn.”

“Don’t even do the math, Santiago.” You warn with a fake scowl.

“Guess me taking Val for the weekend paid off.” He jokes as you shoot him a look, opening the door and leading him back out into the hall to the living room to find Frankie.

The Christmas lights on the tree were plugged in, blues, red, purples, oranges, greens, yellows…you’d refused to give in to the sad beige trends, you wanted your daughter to have the Christmas you did. Full of life and color, and strange ornaments with memories and crafts and photos. Frankie was in the kitchen in the fridge, digging for drinks.

“You found her?” He calls to Santi, to which he replies with a simple “yep.” “Either of you want a beer?” He asks, Santi gave you a look to which you held up a finger in warning.

“No, honey, just water for me.” You reply, and he came into the living room a few moments later, two beers and a water. You thanked him and smiled, sitting down next to him on the couch while Santiago sat in one of your armchairs.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, catching up and laughing. Your daughter slept like a rock, and eventually you checked on her, making sure she actually was asleep. She was the spitting image of both of you, snoring softly. Your pride and joy, you never thought any man would ever make you feel safe and loved enough to have a child, a home.

The last two weeks, you’d been watching Christmas movies with Val and Frankie, curled up on the couch, as she got all excited about Christmas, and winter, and presents.

Last night, she’d begged to make cookies she’d found in an old cookbook of yours. Gingerbread cookies the three of you decorated to look like each other, accompanying the little house she decorated. She passed out from a sugar high on the couch between you and Frankie at only 6 in the evening. A miracle, for a girl like her. He’d talked to you about how much he loved the two of you, quietly playing with your hair, for almost an hour before you both fell asleep.

By the time Santiago left, you both were tired, like average toddler parents were. You drag a blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it up and over the two of you, curling up with him for a minute.

“Good day?” Frankie asks, like clockwork each night he wanted to hear what you had to say. His eyes reflect the Christmas lights, and somehow every ounce of admiration and love he held for you.

“Good day. Got all the presents wrapped.”

“I’m glad, all ready for Christmas?” He rubbs your arm, pulling you closer.

“Very. You?” You look up at him, hand finding his soft brown curls, you see him wear more frequently now. Standard Oil practically owned his head of hair until you came along and convinced him the curls and little grays were perfect to you.

“I think so. Wrapped your gifts last week.” He grins down at you, hand falling at your waist, fingertips grazing your back and pulling you just a bit closer. You smile at him, God, you love him. His eyes shine a little more in the light of the tree, pulling you up to kiss him sweetly, your hand pressed gently to the side of his face.

“I love you.” You murmur, reaching just a bit farther up to press a kiss to the tip his nose, one of many things you adore about him.

“I love you, hun.” He kisses your cheek in return, letting you rest on his shoulder, just against his neck. You play with the hem of his shirt, yawning slightly. “How’s a hot shower and bed sound?” He asks with a slight chuckle, you can feel it deep in his chest, with his heartbeat. The one he knows beats just for you.

By the next evening, dinner is served, chicken (considering your daughter won’t touch turkey), mashed potatoes (her favorite), and green beans (cause somebody needed her greens.)

“Mama, do we get to open presents tonight?” Your daughter asks, her spoon spinning around in her potatoes.

“Only one, since Santa hasn’t come yet, sweetheart.” You grin, watching her take another bite, smiling at you and Frankie.

“Do you think I’ll be able to hear the reindeer? When he’s on the roof? Cause I can’t see Santa?” Val asks, pulling her hair out of the little ponytail done by Frankie from earlier when she’d “helped” him outside shovel the snow on the sidewalk, messy from her little hat.

“I don’t know about that…but I heard Santa has been leaving behind something extra special if we leave him some milk and cookies tonight.” Frankie smiles, explaining to his daughter what she could expect if she tried to stay in her bed and sleep.

“Hmm…I think we should get to bed soon, Val cause Uncle Santi called before dinner and told me Santa had already come to his house.” You hum like it's nothing, and your daughter shoots up, finishing the remainder of her plate, and Frankie smiles at you.

“Can we go get my pjs? And brush my teeth? I wanna go to bed!” Val forgets she could even have one present tonight.

She takes Frankie’s hand, tugging it a little, watching you for approval. She drags both of you, through her bedtime routine like you usually have to do for her. You kiss her goodnight, and tell her Christmas will be there the sooner she goes to sleep, and that you love her. You lean on the doorframe, watching Frankie talk to her, telling her goodnight and that he loves her.

Your hand finds your abdomen without really thinking. Jesus Christ do you love him, and God are you glad to be the one having his children.

You quickly tuck both hands in the pockets of your jeans as he turns to you, walking out with you. He takes your hand, leading you back to the living room.

“I’ve got something for you.” You say softly, he presses a kiss to your head. You reach under the couch, as you’d hidden it earlier in the day, and he chuckles a little. You hand him the box and settle with your legs over his lap, he brushes your knees with his free hand. He looks at you to see if it’s okay to open, his hands making the box look much smaller than it was. You nod, encouraging him a little, a small smile on your lips.

He shakes off the top, pushing back the wrapping and looking at you, a large grin on his face, taking up the photo frame, setting the box beside him. He pulls you in tightly, still holding the framed photo. “I’ve been meaning to do this, this is amazing, thank you-”

“Frankie, I’d take another look in the box before you thank me, honey.” You joke slightly, he lets go of you, giving you a confused look, taking the box back up, taking back some more of the wrapping, he looks back up at you, his eyes wide, and you don’t even know how his smile got better. He wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you up to hold you as close as he can.

You’re every good piece of him, you’re the one thing he could ever dream to have.

“We’re having another baby!” He’s impossibly happy, excited and holding you tight, kissing you repeatedly before you can even say another word. “I’m a dad, again…” He lets you go a little to look at you, glancing down at your stomach, and back to your eyes. “Thank you…”

Those big, brown eyes and that smile, that got you here in the first place.

You’re smiling, blushing with how excited he is. He pulls you back in, once again, elated, with little tears at the corner of his eye, holding you close. The only place he wants to be.

“I- I’m only four weeks. Only found out a few days ago, just wanted to surprise you.” You stumble over your words, and he kisses the side of your face, still holding you but loose, so you could breathe, and he could look at you.

“It’s amazing. It’s more than amazing, it’s the best fucking Christmas gift.” He grins at you, hands rubbing your arms up and down as if to warm you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Francisco.” You just about melt into his arms, his comfort the same as a blanket while it snowed outside.

He made you happier than you could’ve ever believed you deserved, let alone believed you would find. And yet, he reminded you somehow everyday of how much he didn’t deserve you.