#and my family is so happy about this date

[choerrypuffs]

AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

pairing: firefighter!haechan x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 8.6k

synopsis: revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.

author’s note: luvpuffcore is finally back!! ilysm cat and moon and thank you for another amazing year of friendship <333 i truly am the #1 most successful fan of all time 🤩 also special shoutout to cat for letting me use some of her creepy dms and moon for sharing her league knowledge yall are god's strongest soldiers fr !! happy new year, my loves ✨🎆💞

warning(s): mentions/threats of violence, sexual jokes, y/n commits arson but in a girly pop way (pls don't try this at home), character assassination of mark

playlist: get him back! by olivia rodrigo ― is it new years yet? sabrina carpenter ― drinks or coffee by rosé ― risk by gracie abrams ― mastermind by taylor swift

additional: check out a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab!

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 3d

AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

I (24F) caught my boyfriend cheating on me with a discord kitten he met on League of Legends two days before our anniversary. I proceeded to have the biggest crash out ever known to man, bought a gallon of gasoline, went to his house in the middle of the night, and lit his car on fire. I had completely forgotten his cousin was a firefighter in the area, and he showed up at the scene, which hindered my masterful plan a little bit. Luckily, my ex didn’t press any charges though because no way in hell he’s going to admit he has a discord kitten in a court of law. Anyways, the next day, my ex groveled and begged me to go to his family’s Christmas party with him so that he could save face in front of his mommy. Long story short―let’s just say it didn’t go well. His cousin ended up driving me home, and I think maybe I’ve fallen for him? 

⥣ 9.8k ⥥ 1,439 Comments

mcballs-im-lovin-it0323 • 2d YTA for not crashing out even harder bc i woulda slept with his entire bloodline if he played in my face like that 🙂‍↕️

➥ Reply ⥣ 2.8k ⥥

picklepounder1010 • 1d would’ve had him calling me mama, papa, auntie, uncle, grandma, grandpa etc fr 😩 ➥ ⥣ 943 ⥥

god-of-donuts0423 • 1d YTA for dating a lol player

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

goonknight1027 • 5h no way this post is about that twink lol streamer ➥ ⥣ 629 ⥥

part one | oh, i wanna key his car…or light it ablaze?

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:03 PM heyyy u play lol too 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:05 PM im a yasuo main 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhat kinda asian are u

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhatchu look like

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMsorry was that too much 😂😂😂

Your best friend, Rosie, has to put your phone down and take a few deep breaths. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Keep going. You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” you respond through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream, completely deadpan. 

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:21 AM ahh 😂😂

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:22 PM *kisses you*

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PM can i tell U something weird :3 😂

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:40 PM[Audio Message]

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMi wrote this rap about my feelings for y baby girl

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMbecause uve been such a good gril for me

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:57 PM holy fck holy dcking fck that body of urs is absurd

Rosie covers her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in a grimace. “No way he copied Adam Levine unironically.” 

“Keep going.”

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AMwhen can i see u

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM ill be free after christmas

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM after annyign fam stuff 😂😂😂

Every message Rosie reads feels like another sucker punch in your gut and your ego, but you just dig your spoon into the tub of ice cream with even more force and let her keep going. Every time you blink, you feel dried up mascara flaking off your eyelashes and getting stuck in the dried tears and snot on your cheeks. 

“‘Annoying fam stuff?’ Is he talking about your anniversary?” Rosie demands.

Yes, your anniversary with your now ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee, is on Christmas. You used to think it was romantic. What a goddamn idiot you were. 

“At least he called me family,” you reply wryly, a hysterical laugh rattling in your chest like a wet cough. 

Rosie shakes her head and hands your phone back to you. “I can’t read any more of this. I’m going to be sick. I thought Discord mods and Discord kittens were just memes. I can’t believe people like him actually exist.” 

You just shrug.

“Where the hell is he now?” She crosses her arms. 

“Probably at his parents’ house. They’re on a ski trip, and they won’t be back until tomorrow,” you sigh, getting a headache thinking about how you were going to explain this to Mark’s parents. 

“Good. Change the locks on your door before he tries to come crawling back. He’s done mooching off you,” Rosie huffs. 

“You were right,” you state matter-of-factly, “That he was just a jobless bum loser who’s a momma’s boy.” 

She looks guilty, leaning over and giving you a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You think about the time you first met Mark, when the two of you were just starry-eyed freshmen in college together. He was so awkward and shy that it took almost an entire semester for him to finally look you in the eye. He followed you around like a sad puppy and would get flustered at any prolonged amount of attention you gave him. After about three years of him being hopelessly in love with you and unable to work up the courage to ask you out, you finally decided to give him a chance in your final year of college. It was a white Christmas, and you remember his trembling hands holding your face, freezing cold fingertips brushing your cheeks, and how red his nose was when he leaned in to kiss you. He looked at you as if you were a goddess that was put on this Earth purely for him to worship. 

Maybe that’s why you moved in together with him when the two of you graduated, even when he was unemployed and you supported him financially. Maybe that’s why you smiled and nodded when he told you he wanted to try being a Twitch streamer. Maybe that’s why you gifted him his first microphone for his setup, or baked him a cake when he finally got his first viewer (even though it was actually a secret account that you made in order to boost his confidence). Maybe that’s why you never complained when he started skipping out on dates (sometimes even your birthday) in favor of growing his audience, or when he bought you extravagant gifts like jewelry or designer clothes without any clue of your preference or size. Maybe that’s why you chose to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed his eyes starting to drift towards anything but you.

Maybe you were always the one who worshipped him. 

It’s almost comical how easily almost a decade of your life has gone down the drain―and all it took was a couple of laughing emojis. In the end, the one who loves more is always the one who loses the most. 

You gave up your best years to Mark Lee, and yet you seemed to have run out of tears to cry for this man. 

Instead, all you have left now is pure, unbridled rage boiling inside of you. It’s the kind of anger that needs to simmer first―the kind that manifests first as a calm indifference before it finally bubbles over into a complete meltdown. But you’ll be damned before you set fire to your mental health and personal belongings that you worked tooth and nail for over a man who ruined your life. 

So, you’ve decided to set fire to something else. 

“Rosie,” you say softly, your voice chillingly serene. “I’m going to set his car on fire.” 

Rosie laughs. “Want me to be your getaway driver?” 

“No, I wouldn’t want to implicate you,” you respond smoothly. “Besides, I want him to know that I’m the one who did it.” 

She looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if you’re joking or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t have the energy to care about him anymore,” you answer―only a half lie. “You should go now. I know you have a late shift tonight.” 

Rosie gives you another tight squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off this weekend, so we should go get drunk off our asses.” 

After she leaves, you slowly get up and make your way to the bathroom. You wash your face in the sink, scrubbing on the gunk off, and apply a fresh layer of makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to make sure you look hot as hell (pun intended). Once you’re done, you make your way to the nearest gas station and purchase a gallon of gasoline before promptly driving to Mark’s parent’s house. 

By the time you get there, it’s already close to midnight, and not even the darkness can shroud Mark’s new Tesla Cybertruck. You remember when he bought it because you had to pay for half of his rent for the month because he was saving up for it―the smug grin on his face, as he announced it to his Twitch chat. You’re embarrassed at how happy you were for him, and you didn’t even have the heart to tell him how hideous you found it. The truck’s mirrored exterior reflects the moon in the starless night sky, and the full moon almost looks like a shiny, pretty bullseye calling out for you to destroy it. 

Without hesitation, you get out of your car and immediately start dumping gasoline all over and around the car. The scent of gasoline normally makes you nauseous, but the scent of revenge smells even sweeter. Before you take out your lighter, you pick up a large piece of broken concrete from his driveway. With all of the strength you can muster, you hurl the concrete into the driver side window of the truck and watch your reflection shatter along with the glass. 

The car alarm starts blaring, and you wait for the light in Mark’s room to blink on. You see his silhouette as he opens his blinds and peers out, just to lock eyes with you. He gawks at you like he’s just seen a ghost, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way down to you. As he stumbles down the driveway, you take out your lighter and flick it on, letting it slowly slip from your fingertips. Your heart swells with a hysterical sense of glee as his eyes widen, the orange flames reflecting in his teary eyes. His Cybertruck is set ablaze with a Hollywood-esque level of perfection, and the fire gives your face a golden glow as if you were the starring actress. 

“Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?” Mark hollers over the crackle of the flames, voice breaking. 

“Oh, you bet I fucking am,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna sue you―you bitch! Have you thrown in jail!” he screams, fishing his phone out of his pocket and punching in 911 on the keypad. “I’m calling the cops right now!” 

“Do it, you spineless piece of shit! I’m going to make sure everyone in this damn neighborhood and on the internet knows what a lying, cheating, soul-sucking little leech you are!” you yell back at him. “I’m going to ruin your fucking career first and then happily walk my ass down to the police station.”

That makes Mark stop in his tracks, his thumb hovering over the dial button. He can’t control the fear on his face. “No one is gonna believe you.” 

“Aw, you sure no one will believe me when I show everyone the screenshots of your DMs with uwukittenbb69?” you taunt. 

“I’ll say they’re fake!” he nearly screeches. 

“Let’s fucking go then! My word against yours. We’ll see who they believe,” you challenge. 

Mark falters and takes a small step forward. “W-Wait…” 

Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted by the squealing sirens of a firetruck pulling up to the street. You and Mark exchange glances, and you silently dare him to report you, before both of you turn towards the firefighters exiting the truck. 

“Mark…and Y/N?” 

Your eyes widen at the sound of the approaching firefighter’s voice. You watch in horror as the firefighter removes his helmet, and you get a clearer look at his face. Tufts of wavy caramel-colored hair sticking out, a youthful and angelic face that doesn’t suit his occupation, and heart-shaped lips turned downwards in concern―it’s Mark’s cousin, Donghyuck. You’ve met him a decent amount of times at family gatherings, and he sometimes drops by you and Mark’s apartment to deliver homemade food from his mom. Donghyuck has always been kind to you, and you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Donghyuck’s confusion is short-lived before his attention falls back to the fire and how close you are to it. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the burning truck. 

“Be careful. Are you hurt?” he asks carefully, eyes scanning your face with precision. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here.” 

You open your mouth to try and fumble out an answer, but you flinch at the sound of Donghyuck’s colleagues blasting Mark’s car with water from the firetruck’s power hose. All that’s left of the Cybertruck is a deformed and blackened pile of scrap metal with a plume of smoke rising from it. You can’t help the sense of satisfaction you feel. 

“Don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s not good for you,” Donghyuck urges, gently sticking an arm in front of you and gesturing for you to step back even further. “Come with me. There’s blankets in the back of the truck.”

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “I’m not cold.” 

It’s true; the fire you set has been more than enough to make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t look like he believes you but doesn’t try to push any further. 

“Okay, so what the hell happened here? We got a call from the neighbors saying there was a blazing ball on fire in Mark’s driveway and that the two of you were in a screaming match.” 

“Ask Mark,” is all you say. 

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Mark suddenly materializes next to you and Donghyuck―a restless expression on his face. He probably thought you were telling Donghyuck what he did to you and rushed over. 

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re saying that was an accident?”

“Yeah. I was just…messing around. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” Mark says through gritted teeth, sounding completely defeated. 

The corners of your mouth twitch when you chime in, “A senseless accident.” 

Donghyuck is completely speechless as he glances between the two of you. However, you look past him and watch the fireworks exploding in the dark sky. Pulling out your phone, you see that it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the 25th of December. Glancing over at Mark, you see him trembling in the cold with a sniffly red nose and bloodshot eyes. He’s staring straight at the ground, fists clenched. 

You smile. 

part two | part two | wanna push him in the fireplace and watch him burn!

When you finally get home that night, you draw yourself a steaming hot bubble bath and even use the fancy bath bomb that Rosie bought you. After you get dressed, you make a charcuterie board and pour yourself a glass of wine as well before falling asleep to a Hallmark movie playing on your television. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve gotten over the past month. 

You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, a certain five-foot-nine burden lifted from your shoulders, and text all of your friends and family your holiday greetings. Rosie invited you out to her family gathering because she didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas, but you declined. You decided to stay home and get some cleaning done. Of course, by cleaning, you mean boxing up all of Mark’s stuff and donating it to Goodwill. You initially wanted to burn everything, but you’ve committed enough arson already. 

Just as you’re getting ready to make a hearty breakfast in preparation for the mass Mark exodus, you hear the door to your apartment being opened, and your blood runs cold when you realize you haven’t changed the lock. Then your cold blood begins to boil at the audacity that Mark still must have in his pathetic little body to even dream of stepping foot in your home. 

Gripping your frying pan tightly, you march out of the kitchen to greet him. Mark at least has the sense to shrivel back when he sees you approach him. To your delight, he looks absolutely terrible. It’s obvious he didn’t get any sleep nor did he feel the need to change out of his pajamas. 

“I know you’re mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands out as if ready to block a punch.

“If you actually knew that, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in my apartment,” you say nonchalantly. “You have ten seconds to give my key back to me and get the hell out before you have to call the cops again.”

“Chill, chill,” he mutters, “I’m just here for my stuff―”

“Don’t tell me to chill. I’ve always hated it when you tell me that. It makes you sound like a patronizing douchebag, which you are, of course,” you snap. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you just waltz in here and casually get your stuff. Most of which I paid for, by the way.”

“Y/N, come on,” he sighs. “at least let me get my PC setup.”

That makes you burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You really have the gall to ask me for your PC setup? Are you on actual crack? Get the fuck out!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry, okay? Just one more thing―”

“Don’t make me swear to Jesus on his birthday―” 

“My mom wants you to come to the Christmas party this afternoon,” he blurts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I…haven’t told her yet. I wanted us to tell her, um, together, after the party.”

He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand what he’s implying. He wants to make it seem like the breakup was mutual to save his reputation and because he knows his mom will lose her mind. He’s pretended to be her perfect little boy his entire life, a momma’s boy to the very core, so he can’t ever let her know what a bottomfeeder he is. 

“Is this some sort of social experiment to see how far you can push my limits before I finally snap? Again?” you ask incredulously. 

“Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I won’t ask for my stuff anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the car thing. I promise you that you won’t ever see me again if you do me this favor,” Mark sputters.

You hate that you still hesitate, despite how much you’re disgusted by him. It makes you feel like you haven’t completely axed the part of you that was in love with him, and that sickens you. However, Mrs. Lee has always been like a second mother to you, and it doesn’t feel right to just cut her off without a proper goodbye just because her son is a cretin. You suppose this could be good closure for such an ill-fated relationship. 

“You swear on your life that you’ll leave me alone forever after this?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Mark nods profusely.

“Fine. I’m only staying for an hour, and I don’t care if the party isn’t over yet. We’re going to tell her within that period or else,” you state. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Mark opens his arms to hug you, and it takes every fiber in your being not to whack him across the head with your frying pan. 

“Do not touch me,” you warn, “Now get out.” 

To his credit, he promptly hightails it out of your apartment (perhaps he finally noticed the murderous glint in your eye). You almost immediately regret agreeing, but you tell yourself that today is the last day that you’ll ever have to deal with the likes of Mark Lee again. Putting a hold on cleaning, you get ready for the party instead, donning a cute holiday fit that you had prepared especially for today since it was supposed to be your anniversary. Now, it makes for a great revenge dress. 

Mark had texted you to let you know to bring a gift since there would be a white elephant gift exchange, and half of you wants to call him and scream at him for not letting you know sooner and the other half is screaming at yourself for forgetting to block him. Not having enough time to go out and buy a gift, you decide to wrap up the scarf that you knitted for Mark. You stayed up all night after you got off work to make it for him, and it looks a bit wonky, but you thought he would appreciate it. You feel bad for whoever receives it, but there has to be a few duds in the mix or it’s not a true white elephant experience. Maybe they can use the scarf to wipe up their dog’s piss or something.

When you drive back to Mark’s parents’ house, it’s an ironic clash of atmospheres. The place is decked out with Christmas decorations, an amalgamation of rainbow lights, inflatable snowmen, and wreaths on every door and window. Yet, you can also see remnants of the dark burn marks in their driveway. Mark must have managed to call a tow to take his Cybertruck away just in the nick of time. You do wonder how he managed to explain the burn marks, though. 

Taking in a deep breath, you hype yourself up in your car visor mirror before stepping out and walking to the front door. Before you can even knock, Mrs. Lee opens the door and envelops you in a bear hug. She smells like sugar cookies, and it occurs to you how much you’ll miss her. 

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re here,” she coos, cupping your face. She then ushers you into the living room, linking her arm through yours. “I was so worried because I thought the two of you got into a fight while we were on our trip.”

You just smile uncomfortably. “O-Oh.” 

“A mother’s intuition is always right, you know,” she says, winking, “Plus, I knew something was off when Mark told us he’d be staying at our place for a couple nights. Poor boy was a mess, you know. He somehow managed to total his car in the driveway! Can you believe it? He really needs you around to whip him into shape!” 

You hope she can’t see you holding in a laugh. As you’re walking, you scan the room for Mark, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t surprise you one bit that you’re being treated as fodder so he can hide in his room. 

“Anyways, say hi to everyone!” She leads you directly into a circle of Mark’s aunt and uncles. You give them all an awkward hello and try to slink away while they all converse, but one of Mark’s aunts turns towards you. 

“So, how long have you and Mark been together, honey?” she asks. 

“Um, about four years―”

“Oh, but they’ve known each other for much longer than that. Seven years! Mark had the biggest crush on her, you know,” Mrs. Lee interjects. 

“My goodness, does that mean we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?” Mark’s aunt teases. The rest of the circle oohs and ahhs, and you want to strangle yourself with a garland. 

“I mean, what is he waiting for anyway? He’s making loads of money on the Internet now, isn’t he?” she continues. 

“Exactly. I want grandchildren, you know,” Mrs. Lee huffs. 

Unable to bite back your words anymore, you clear your throat loudly. “I have something I need to―” 

“Oh, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you,” another voice chimes in. 

All of you turn around, and a gasp nearly escapes you when you see Donghyuck standing in front of you. He’s in a white cable knit sweater, and his wavy hair looks so fluffy that you almost want to reach out and touch it. His cheeks are a bit flushed, probably because he’s in such thick clothing (or Mrs. Lee’s famous spiked eggnog). Without his uniform on, he looks much softer, dreamier. 

“You…have?” you ask, bewildered. 

“Yup! Come on, I gotta ask you something,” he answers cheerfully, gesturing for you to follow him. 

You’re a bit wary of what he’s scheming, but you’d rather risk it than have to deal with any more marriage talk, so you gladly let him whisk you away from the crowd. Donghyuck leads you to a less crowded part of the room, swiping a piece of chocolate cake when he walks past the dessert table, and tucks himself into a corner that’s concealed by a giant Christmas tree. 

“Here we go. I introduce to you my super covert corner that I stand in when I want to avoid nosy relatives,” he says in a sing-song voice before offering you the cake in his hand. “Would you like some German chocolate cake made by yours truly? It’s pretty damn average, if I do say so myself.” 

You pause, only just now realizing that Donghyuck helped you out. You suppose you have nothing to lose, so you accept the cake. “Oh. Thank you. So, you didn’t have anything you wanted to ask me?” 

“Well, actually, I do,” he hums, giving you a sheepish grin. “You set Mark’s car on fire last night, didn’t you?”

Part of you already expected this question coming, so you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Are you accusing me?” 

“Why, I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I don’t need to. I know you did,” he says casually, shrugging.

Even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. In fact, Donghyuck almost seems to find it amusing. 

“Do you have proof?”

“Mark told me,” he states sweetly.

You sigh loudly, immediately giving up the ruse. “I knew that damn lowlife would yap.” 

“So, what did he do?” 

“Of course, he told you what I did but didn’t tell you what he did,” you snort. 

“What, he cheat or something?” 

“Worse.” 

You pull out your phone and show Donghyuck Mark’s Discord DMs and watch his expression morph into disgust as you indulge in the cake he gave you. The dessert is perfectly average as he said, but there’s something charming about it. In that way, the cake is quite similar to its maker. 

“As a government employee and resident fighter of fires, nothing justifies arson,” he states after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “but this comes pretty damn close.” 

You give him a smug I-told-you-so look.

“But seriously, what you did was really dangerous, Y/N. You could have injured yourself badly. That jackass is not worth getting third-degree burns over. There are better ways to get revenge, you know,” he lectures.

“Like what?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, like TP or egg his car or something. Slash his tires?” 

“God, are you from a 90s movie or something? That’s lame as hell,” you snort, taking another bite of cake.

“Dig your key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive? Carve your name into his leather seats? Take a Louisville slugger to both headlights? Slash a hole in all four tires?” He wriggles his eyebrows. 

“Are you quoting Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood?” you ask incredulously.

“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Donghyuck sings, purposefully off-key. 

You can’t fight that smile that spreads across your face, and it eventually turns into a full-on belly laugh when he continues to sing. It’s the first genuine laugh, the first moment of brief happiness and relief, that you’ve felt in a long time. You thought you had it when you set Mark’s car on fire, but something still coiled in the pit of your stomach like simmering, black smoke. In this tiny little corner that smells of pine needles and chocolate cake, you feel free like a clear sky after a long winter storm.

“For the record,” Donghyuck says, voice gently dipping, “you’ve always been too good for him, and everyone knows it―including him. He’ll regret what he did to you for the rest of his life. That’s your revenge.” 

Your breath staccatos in your chest at his words. You tell yourself that he has always been a smooth talker, but he looks at you with such honesty and warmth that you want to believe him. 

“Have you always been this sweet?” You meant for the words to come out in a teasing manner, but your voice is tinged with breathlessness. 

Donghyuck grins, and his lips remind you of the heart-shaped lollipops that you see in the store during Valentine’s Day. “The sweetest.” 

A part of you wonders what would happen if you craned your neck and kissed him right here and now. Not because you’re romantically interested in him, of course. Rather, it would be a spectacular way to get revenge on Mark. Most girls go for the brother or the best friend―maybe even the dad if one is particularly ambitious―but the cousin is an untapped (pun NOT intended) medium for revenge. 

You wonder if Donghyuck tastes like cookies or wine-filled chocolates or spiked eggnog or even fruitcake. You really hate fruitcake, but you suppose you wouldn’t mind for the sake of revenge. 

But you would never do that to him. He’s much too kind of a person to be involved in you and Mark’s mess. The fact that you’re able to confide in him and he actually takes your side is something that you truly appreciate. As much as you want to torment Mark, it’s best to just end it here. 

“You can use me too, you know,” Donghyuck adds.

“Huh?” You blink.

“For your revenge,” he clarifies. “Use me. To make him jealous, to bully him, whatever you want.” 

For a moment, you almost believe he somehow read your mind. 

“Just wanted to let you know,” he says, shrugging, “since you probably think it would be too mean. Plus, I think you would need my help anyways.”

That makes you feel greatly offended. “What is that supposed to mean? You say that like I didn’t set a car on fire.” 

“You’re too naive in your thinking. Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud and in your face like that. It’s a lot more fun when you break them down psychologically in more subtle ways,” he explains.

“So, you―as a government employee―can’t approve of me committing arson because I got cheated on, but you―as a government employee―can casually and openly discuss waging psychological warfare on another civilian. On said person who cheated on me, who also happens to be your cousin because you seemed to have forgotten that, ” you point out sardonically. 

Donghyuck just smiles before slightly leaning in, eyes flickering down to your lips. You open your mouth to retort but your words instantly die in your throat, softly gasping when his hand brushes your chin as he reaches over and swipes a bit of chocolate frosting from your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Sure I can,” he answers smoothly, “because, unlike a certain someone, I won’t get caught.” 

“I didn’t―”

“And by the way, Mark didn’t tell me you set his car on fire.” 

You gawk at him as he walks past you with a content grin on his face. “Now come on, I hear my aunt calling for us.” 

Maybe you need to take back your earlier statement of Donghyuck being too kind. He might actually have more screws loose than you.

.

.

.

You almost completely forget about Mark until he finally comes downstairs for the white elephant exchange. You’re in such a daze from your earlier interaction with Donghyuck that you barely recoil when Mark takes a seat beside you on the couch, especially since Donghyuck is sitting in the rocking chair directly across from you. 

The gift exchange begins once everyone has drawn a number, and you honestly just dissociate for the first half of it. Keeping your gaze trained on the piece of paper that has 26 scribbled on it, you don’t look up until you feel Mark get up beside you and pick a gift from the pile. You’re praying to both Jesus and Santa that he doesn’t pick yours, but you suppose you've been deemed a sinner and also put on the Naughty List (maybe for setting your cheating ex’s care on fire?) because Mark somehow manages to find yours in the pile of presents. 

When he opens it, you can tell by the way he quickly glances at you that he knows it’s yours. After all, he saw you practicing your knitting throughout the week. He happily wraps it around his neck and beams proudly. “I love it.”

The way he carefully looks back at you makes you want to smack him into the new year. You know he’s trying to get on your good side, and you make it clear with your scowl that it isn’t working. 

You’re actually grateful that it’s your turn next so that you’re able to get up and walk away from him. Wanting to get this entire situation over with, you haphazardly grab one from the top of the pile. Your heart sinks when you take out the stuffing paper from the bag and realize that it’s Mark’s gift. You contemplate putting the paper back in and not opening it at all, but you cave under the pressure of all the expectant pairs of eyes on you. 

In typical Mark fashion, his gift is a signed T-shirt of his own merch. It’s an obnoxious yellow color with his Twitch username and a giant screen printed image of his face plastered across it. He’s written his signature right over his forehead, so it makes him look like he has random chicken scratch on his face. 

“Oh, it must be destiny!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, clapping her hands together. 

You force a smile before returning to your seat, doing everything in your power to ignore Mark’s stupid giddy expression. Shoving the shirt back into the bag, you casually kick it away from you. 

A couple more people take their turns, and you’re counting down the seconds to when this is finally over so you can go home. Eventually, it’s Donghyuck’s turn, and he saunters towards you and holds his hand out. 

“Gimme.”

You blink at him.

“Your gift. I’m stealing it,” he explains, wiggling his fingers. 

“You want…this?” you ask, completely baffled. 

“Well, duh. It’s going to sell for a lot of money, you know.” He winks. 

You can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s helping you out again. “This has to be unethical. Aren’t you a government employee?” 

“Government employees need to make money too,” he replies, sighing. 

“Well, if you really want it, I guess I have no choice,” you huff, faking exasperation before handing him the bag. 

You’re smiling when he takes it and walks back to his chair, and you hear Mark grumble something under his breath. Turning to him, you raise an eyebrow, snippily asking, “What?”

“I said,” he repeats so loudly that it reverberates throughout the room, “when did the two of you get so friendly?” 

A silence falls over everyone, and the two of you are now center stage. 

“Are you really going to do this now?” you hiss. 

“I noticed that the two of you were getting awfully cozy behind the Christmas tree earlier,” Mark retorts, shrugging. 

Donghyuck gets up to intervene, but he doesn’t have time to even react before you grab a pillow from the couch and chuck it in Mark’s face. 

“You’ve got some nerve. Was this your plan all along? To make me look like the bad guy in front of your family?” you demand, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter from rage. “You and uwukittenbb69 were getting awfully cozy too, don’t you think? I’d say snug as a bug in a goddamn rug even.” 

Mark stands up in a flash, his eyes frantically glancing at his mom before pointing his finger at you. “Baby, I told you she was just a friend.” 

You nearly choke on air when you hear him call you that. Making a beeline towards the pile of presents, you begin to toss them at Mark with each question you add. “You absolute lunatic. Do friends beg each other for pictures of their tits? Do friends write raps confessing their love for one another? Do friends blow off their anniversary with their girlfriend so that they can meet up for a quick booty call? And yes, I’m saying quick because you and I both know it’ll be a speedy endeavor.”

“What on Earth is going on?” Mrs. Lee cries out as Mark tries his best to swat away the presents being hurled at him. 

“You’re a psycho bitch,” Mark yells. “It’s not like I actually slept with her. We were just messing around online. You got jealous over nothing. And you set my car on fire!” 

“You wanna see psycho?” you snap, throwing the present in your hands down onto the floor and marching towards him with your bare fists before you suddenly stop and take in your surroundings. You see the horror and shock on everyone’s faces, the way they’re looking at you, and then perhaps most clear of all―Mark’s expression. He’s angry just like you, but there’s a glimmer of victory in his eyes. As if he’s bested you in some manner. 

And he has. You’re the villain now.

Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to walk over to Mark in a calm manner, looking him directly in the eye. 

“You’re nothing except a liar and a cheater, Mark Lee. That will never change that no matter how much you try to spin it in front of your family. You built your success off my back, and I hope that haunts you for the rest of your life. May you receive everything that you’ve done to me tenfold. That’s all I want to say—” You pause. “Oh, and I’ve always thought your Cybertruck was fucking ugly.” 

You reach over and snatch the scarf from his neck before turning and walking out of the door, feeling like you finally managed to cut off the ball and chain around your ankle. Just as you’re about to reach your car, you hear someone calling after you. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Donghyuck says once he catches up to you. 

“I’m not so distraught that I’ll become a hazard on the road,” you say wryly

“Well, when it comes to being around a car, you’ve certainly proved that you’re not exactly at your most dangerous when you’re behind the wheel,” he jokes. 

“You may have a point,” you acknowledge, giving him a small smile.

“Let me drive you home, Y/N. I’m worried about you,” he insists again, much quieter this time. 

“How are you going to get back then?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I’ll call an Uber or something.” 

“That would be such a waste of money,” you snort.

“Not if it’s for you,” he says almost instantly. His normally brown eyes almost look auburn when under the golden glow of the sunset. 

There’s such determination, such assurance, such warmth in his gaze that you let yourself be surrounded with, no longer having the energy to resist him, and it feels like falling onto a soft cloud after a long, winding journey. For once, you just want someone to take care of you, even if it’s just for a moment. 

“Fine. Do as you please,” you relent, tossing him your car keys before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in. 

Donghyuck looks relieved, beaming when he situates himself in the driver’s seat. You try not to be impressed with the way he easily backs out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the headrest behind you, maneuvering the wheel with a deftness you’ve never seen before. Then again, he does drive a massive fire truck on the daily, so your Toyota probably isn’t much of a challenge for him. 

He drives with his eyes staring straight down the road―almost too focused―because you know he’s trying not to look at you. Probably because you’re making it abundantly clear that you don’t want him to look at you, leaning your head against the window and away from him. It doesn’t mean that you don’t see his wandering eyes, almost as if it were second nature, drift back to you in the reflection of the window.

“Pathetic, right?” you finally say, feeling suffocated by the heavy silence.

“What’s pathetic?” 

“Me.” 

“Why would you be pathetic?” Donghyuck grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as the leather creaks under the force of his hold.

“Mark was right. I talked a big game in front of him, but in the end, I was just the psycho ex-girlfriend. I told myself that I would never let him hold my emotions hostage anymore. That I would erase any care I had for him left in me. Because indifference means that I’m truly free. But I couldn’t do it. I really hate him, to my very core, and that means he still has power over me. I hate that most of all. I want him to feel the same pain I did, and I want to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, I want to move on with my life. I’m like a dog chasing my own tail; it’s pathetic.” 

You wanted to sound more lighthearted about this, turn it into a joke, but Donghyuck seems to draw out a vulnerability within you that makes you want to tell him everything you’ve been trying to desperately ignore. 

“Y/N, you’re dealing with the end of a long-term relationship. It’s only natural that you have confusing and conflicting feelings about everything. You’re not pathetic; you’re human. Mark stole your girlhood and your youth, and it’s going to take time for you to heal from that. It’s impossible to immediately get back on your feet after what he did to you. None of this is your fault, so don’t ever berate yourself,” Donghyuck’s voice trembles as he speaks. “I promise you that one day, you’re going to wake up and you’ll realize that you don’t remember what Mark's favorite food is. His favorite movie. His favorite color. Then you’ll realize that you can barely even remember what his face looks like when he’s sad, happy, angry. Eventually, you’ll forget about him entirely, and all the pain he caused you will just be seconds of your life that evaporates from your mind completely.”

When he speaks to you like there’s nothing he’s more sure of in this world, it makes you want to believe him. You want to be his promise. 

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, placing your hand on top of his for just a moment before pulling away. Your touch is feather light, but you hope he didn’t notice the way your fingertips lingered a second longer. 

The two of you fall quiet again, but this time, the silence is much more comfortable now. You’re almost disappointed when he pulls into your apartment complex, unsure of how to say goodbye to him. 

“Would you like some hot cocoa or something?” you blurt out when he parks. “I think I have some in my apartment.”

You don’t realize how suggestive your offer sounds until it’s too late. Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, and you can tell he’s debating on if he should tease you about it or not. To your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s getting dark soon, so I should head back.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering an Uber. 

“Want me to wait with you then?” You’re not sure why you keep insisting on staying with him, but this day has been so batshit insane that you almost feel like a passenger in your own body. 

“Probably not a good idea,” he chuckles.

Now, you feel both confused and slightly offended again.

“And why is that? I know I’ve been a bit of a menace today, but still…” you trail off awkwardly. 

Donghyuck pauses for a moment as he stares at you; his face is closer to yours than it’s ever been because you’re sitting right next to him. You can tell he’s thinking very carefully about his next words. It occurs to you that, for a guy as seemingly flippant as him, he is actually quite thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve been compared to Mark my entire life,” he begins, musing. 

“Sooo…you didn’t want me to wait with you because you’re gearing up for a trauma dump?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck holds his hand up in front of you, shushing you. “Shh, let me have my big moment.” 

“Sorry. Please proceed.” 

“Ahem. As I was saying, I was but a poor, innocent wee boy living in the shadow of the golden child in our family. Mark was always the more athletic, the funnier, the more charming one. His grades were ass, but he always managed to get out of trouble because he was the favorite. When I got my job as a firefighter and he was unemployed, my family barely congratulated me or even acknowledged it at all because they were afraid they would upset Mark. You see, I’ve actually lived quite a tragic life,” Donghyuck sniffles, wiping away a fake tear. 

“What a shame that they can’t see how wonderful you are,” you chime in, a smile in your voice. 

Your honesty in response to his joke visibly catches him off guard, and he blinks a couple of times before your words finally register. 

“Right?” he huffs dramatically, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes completely as a light flush dustes his face and ears. “But fret not, I didn’t particularly mind. It was nice not having to live up to any expectations. Besides, I was happy for Mark when he finally got successful as a streamer. We were raised like brothers, and I always admired him. I was proud of him.” 

“Ha, little did you know—”

“All this to say that, growing up, I’ve never been once jealous of Mark,” Donghyuck states proudly. 

Then he slowly looks over at you with longing eyes, almost as if his body turning itself towards you is a natural reflex. His expression is so soft and affectionate that it nearly takes your breath away. 

“That is, until he met you.” 

So, this is what Donghyuck looks like when he’s in love. You wonder if it would ever be possible for you to wake up one day and not remember it. 

But you aren’t sure if you return his feelings in the same way. Just like you couldn’t bring yourself to use him for your revenge, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to wait for you while you figure out the mess of your current emotional state. The one who loves more always loses, and you don’t want to lose Donghyuck. 

“I just wanted to tell you that,” he continues, “I’m not expecting a response. It’s for the better you don’t respond right now anyways. If you want to pretend like this conversation was all a bad dream conjured up by sleep paralysis and never want to talk about it again, I’m okay with that too.” 

You smile. 

“But…if you’re able to, just look my way sometimes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep your attention, even if I have to get on a unicycle with a clown nose and juggle. And, if one day, you find yourself looking for me on your own, let me know. Then, I’ll ask for an answer,” Donghyuck promises.  

True to your word, you don’t give him an answer. Instead, you take the scarf that’s been laying across your lap—the scarf with a few holes thanks to missing yarn and sections where you accidentally knitted the pattern in the wrong direction. Now it’s a bit stretched out due to you snatching it off Mark. 

But this scarf, as average (maybe even less) as it may be, is charming in its own way. 

Leaning forward, you wrap the scarf around Donghyuck’s neck. He watches you in complete awe, in a trance, as if he were in a dream and any movement would wake him up. 

“I should head inside now,” you say quietly, trying not to giggle at his stupefied expression.

He only nods dazedly, and you’re certain that would have been his reaction regardless of what you said. It takes a few more beats for your words to actually click before he clears his throat loudly. “Right. Yes. You should.” 

He hands you your keys back before stepping out of the car and opening your door for you. “I’ll wait down here until you get inside, and then I’ll go meet my Uber.” 

“Thanks for driving me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him. 

“You’re welcome. Good night, Y/N.” Donghyuck puts his hands in his pockets and tucks his chin into the scarf as he watches you go.

As your hand hovers over the doorknob, you know you should just open the door and walk inside so you don’t keep him waiting in the cold. You really shouldn’t look back because it would mean that you wanted to. Not because he asked you to. 

But you do. You look back—

only to meet his eyes, the two of you exchanging knowing smiles.

extra | is it me? am i the drama? i don’t think i’m the drama…

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 9h

(UPDATE) AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

So, it turns out my cheating ex got catfished. His supposed Discord kitten was actually some random guy and his friend who were dicking around. They ended up leaking the DMs so they’re all public now for those who would like to read them (by now, I’m sure you all know who my cheating ex is). I would highly advise against listening to the rap confession though. Godspeed if you choose to. I am also selling his expensive PC setup on Facebook Marketplace if anyone’s interested. Happy New Year!

P.S. I ended up inviting the cousin over for hot cocoa. He’s very sweet. 

⥣ 11.3k ⥥ 2,293 Comments

pissrevolver1122 • 8h rip bozo got catfished by me n bro for some robux 

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.8k ⥥

pooprevolver0205 • 8h can’t believe bro actually jacked off to a pic of knees LMAO ➥ ⥣ 1.9k ⥥

piss-k1nk0219 • 2h yall are about to have the awkwardest family get togethers ever lmao

➥ Reply ⥣ 910 ⥥

bigsnowballs0813 • 4h $5 and an iced coffee for the pc take it or leave it

➥ Reply ⥣ 748 ⥥

femboyluvr0701 • 1h are u gonna set the cousin's car on fire too

➥ Reply ⥣ 639 ⥥

justgirlythings-arson119 • 1h probably not he’s very good at putting out fires :(  ➥ ⥣ 482 ⥥

[piastri-fvx]

A Ferrari fan and a Red Bull Driver. Max Verstappen.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x FerrariFan!reader, Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader, social media and a very short irl part

Summary: When Max Verstappen develops a crush on a Ferrari fan, who happens to be a Leclerc.

Word Count: 1,089

Face claim: different girls from pinterest & Sabrina Carpenter

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and a bunch of bickering.

Authors Note: yayyyy second story, here we go!! Hope u enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

------------------------------------------------------

@yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, alexandrastmleux, lorenzotl, jade_distinguinn, charlotte2304 and 637.581.274 others

yourusername family day in the paddockkkk ❤️

| view all comments...

alexandrastmleux trop belleeee liked by creator

-> yourusername my wife 💕

-> charles_leclerc ???

user1 okay but Max posting her...

-> user2 HE DID???

-> arthur_leclerc he did?

-> user3 i smell overprotective brother

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc don't even

charles_leclerc my favorite little sister ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername i'm your only sister?

-> user4 damn 💀

-> user5 i'm so invested in the Max and Leclerc stuff

user6 i need more footage of y/n meeting people in the paddock 😣

-> user7 real

jade_distinguinn 🥰🥰🥰 liked by creator

-> yourusername my loveee 🩵

-> user8 awwww

maxverstappen1 loved meeting you liked by creator

-> user9 what is going on

-> user10 someone please pinch me

user11 you are gorgeoussss liked by creator

-> yourusername thank youuuu

user12 woahhhhh 😍

user13 oh to have y/ns life

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, user1, alexandrastmleux, landonorris, estebanocon and 4.284.395 others

maxverstappen1 finally summer break

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername forza ferrari 🥰

-> maxverstappen1 no

-> user1 i'm afraid she slayed

charles_leclerc why are you posting my little sister???????

-> maxverstappen1 what? which sister? you have a sister?

-> user2 damnnnn, the gaslighting

user3 i'm so invested in all of this

landonorris i don't know about you guys, but this looks like a girlfriend appreciation post to me 🙃 liked by creator

-> user4 i fear he ate

-> user5 damn, lando has a point

-> arthur_leclerc they're not dating

-> user6 he refuses to believe it lmao

user7 the leclerc brothers being in denial is my favorute thing ever

-> yourusername real

-> user8 omg hiiii

-> user9 is that a confirmation?

arthur_leclerc no

-> user10 overprotective brother alert

user11 MAX LIKING LANDO'S COMMENT ABOUT Y/N BEING HIS GF????

-> user12 i'm so glad i get to live in this world

user13 okay but why is no one talking about how pretty she is?? like damn liked by creator

scuderiaferrari she's ours

-> redbullracing she won't be for long liked by creator

-> user14 not ferrari and red bull fighting over her 😭

user15 just fell to my knees in a parking lot

-> user16 valid reaction

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Sitting in the passenger seat of Max's Aston Martin, y/n let out a thoughtful hum, directing her gaze to Max. He glanced at her, noticing the weight of her gaze on him.

"Penny for your thoughts, mijn liefde?" He spoke up, his voice softer than usual. He seemed to have noticed her thoughtfulness as her mind seemed to be racing. He knew the expression on her face all too well.

"What if they're mad..?" She then spoke, her body visibly tensing at the thought. Her shoulders slumped, making his eyes meet hers again, now filled with concern.

"Lorenzo, Arthur and Charles?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer. Of course she was talking about her brothers, she had been quite anxious to tell them about her relationship with Max, and Max knew that.

She tilted her head, her eyes full of nervousness. "Yeah," she simply said, nodding her head and biting her lips, looking out the window of the car to try to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Why would they be? You make me happy. I love you and you love me. They should be happy for us," Max calmly spoke, attempting to make her relax a bit. And he seemingly succeeded, as she slightly relaxed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," She couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach as he said that he loved her. He had said it before, since they had been dating for multiple months at this point, but it still felt like the first time.

------------------------------------------------------

@charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, landonorris, lorenzotl and 1.384.294 others

charles_leclerc me when my little sister hangs out with my rival 😒

| view all comments...

maxverstappen1 did someone mention me? liked by creator

-> user1 max verstappennnnnn

user2 lestappen?

landonorris wait until you see his newest post, charles liked by creator

-> user3 i love how invested in this lando is

-> user4 he's just like us

-> user5 he lives for the drama

user6 y/n mentioned

maxverstappen1 me when y/n leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

-> arthur_leclerc i will fight you.

-> lorenzotl me too. back off, verstappen

-> charles_leclerc i will crash you into the barriers on purpose if you hurt her

-> user7 them wanting to fight max is so funny to me

user8 the last few months on f1 social media have been so amazing 😭

alex_albon max has rizz

-> user9 true

-> user10 preach, alexander albon

user11 do do do do max verstappen

-> user12 i live for that song 😭

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, niallhoran, louist91, liampayne, joaofelix79 and 5.482.385 others

maxverstappen1 girlfriend appreciation post

| view all comments...

yourusername mon amourrrrr 🥰 liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 forever yours ❤️

-> user1 your honor, i love them 😭

-> user2 we got y/n and max together before gta 6

user3 i mean, we did get lestappen ☺️

-> user4 yeah, just with a different leclerc than we thought

-> user5 this is so cute

user6 i hope they get married

-> user7 same

louist91 so happy for you both!! liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you, lou!!

-> user8 i love that she's friends with zayn, louis, liam, harry and niall 😣

liampayne yayyyyyyy!! now she won't have to pine when we text or call and talk about how amazing you are and how much she likes you liked by creator

-> yourusername i'll still do that, what are best friends for? 💕 liked by creator

-> user9 i love her sm

-> user10 i love their friendship

zayn my boy finally got the girl liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 such a romantic way of saying it

-> user11 so real of them

niallhoran romeo and juliet minus the dying liked by creator

-> user12 so slay of niall to be here

harrystyles wanna write songs about you and him with me? liked by creator

-> yourusername check our chat 🥰

-> user13 HS4?????

-> user14 featuring y/n?

-> user15 y/n in her singer and songwriter era?

-> user16 oh, i am SO here for this

joaofelix79 congratssss liked by creator

charles_leclerc don't your dare break her heart, verstappen liked by creator

-> user17 he wouldn't

-> maxverstappen1 i wouldn't, she'll be my woman forever

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: woooooo!!! second story in two dayssss!! thank you so so much to everyone who liked and reblogged my story, and thank you to everyone who follows me now <333 let me know if you have requests or you want to be on my permanent tag list!!!

[wholoveseggs]

I looooved Stains! Thank you so much for that and all you do for our mental health in these turbulent times.

Here's another request for your very long list of requests :) Reader and the Mikaelson family are very close friends. She used to have a little fling with Klaus maybe, best friends with Rebekah and so on. Elijah is always shy and Rebekah and Reader are trying to set him up after realizing he's been a monk since his last relationship ended. Elijah is failing hard at all the set-up attempts because he is madly in love with Reader. Eventually, smut ensues :)

Inevitable

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A playful night of banter leads to Elijah's siblings setting him up on a dating app, but the only match he wants is you...

♡♡ Ahhh!!! Thank you so much, @originals23, for this amazing request! I’ve been stuck in a bit of a writing slump lately (I even scrapped my New Year’s fic... I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t happy with it). But your ideas always light a spark of inspiration for me! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this! ♡♡

6.9k words - Warnings: smutt, dating apps, drinking, mutual pining, Elijah in a vesttt (hot & underrated), teasing, kissing, oral (m!receiving), super sappy and romantic, mild jealousy, Kol being such a little shit, Klaus being Klaus, Rebekah always trying her best, Elijah being shy and sweet, && some good old-fashioned Mikaelson bullying...

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

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@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

@sleepmusicland @chaoticfanpeach @prettyinpinkandblack @brunettebri @aerangi

From the moment Kol walked in with a giant bottle of scotch, you knew that tonight was going to be a late one. Rebekah had called you, inviting you over for a drink and some girl time. But Kol and Klaus decided to insert themselves into the mix. You weren’t complaining; the company was good. The Mikaelsons were your closest friends, having met them years ago. Klaus had been a brief fling, but the friendship was what truly stuck.

The playful atmosphere was infectious as you all sat around the living room, laughter bubbling at some joke Klaus made. Kol poured drinks with dramatic flair, teasing Klaus about his awkward blunders with his crush, Camille. Klaus’s glare didn’t faze his younger brother in the slightest.

"I hardly think you have any room to speak. What is the state of your love life? It seems quite nonexistent," Klaus shot back, his tone laced with mock indignation.

Kol, unfazed, chuckled and took a long swig of his drink, shaking his head. "I'd like to think it is quite thriving, thank you very much," he retorted, settling onto the couch. He leaned back smugly before adding, "In fact, I had a date yesterday."

The rest of you murmured in surprise, exchanging knowing looks.

"With who?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you as you sat next to Rebekah. She arched an eyebrow at you, clearly already anticipating Kol’s response.

"This pretty little-" Kol began with a grin, only to be cut off by his sister’s wicked smirk.

"Witch," Rebekah finished for him, and Kol’s laugh was one of agreement rather than embarrassment.

"I suppose I have a type," he admitted with an exaggerated shrug, unbothered by the teasing. His gaze flicked to you, eyes gleaming mischievously. "What about you, love?"

The sudden attention caught you mid-sip, and you glanced at him with a raised brow. "What about me?" you asked, setting your glass down and wiping the excess liquid off your lips.

Kol’s wicked grin widened. "We all know Niklaus has thoroughly disappointed you, so I’m sure you’ve found someone more worthy to keep your bed warm."

Klaus scoffed loudly before you could respond. "Hardly disappointing. We had a grand time," he insisted, smirking at you with a glint of pride.

This time, your playful grin faltered for just a second. The memory of your fleeting fling with Klaus still lingered, though it was far behind you. While the chemistry between you and Klaus had fizzled into camaraderie, you couldn’t help the pang of something unspoken when your thoughts drifted elsewhere…toward another Mikaelson.

You shrugged, masking your thoughts with a casual smile. "Nik did just fine. Better than most of the men I find myself with," you quipped, winking at Klaus. His dimples deepened in a smug grin, clearly satisfied with your answer.

Kol, never one to let a moment slide, laughed heartily. "Those dating apps not doing you any favors, darling?" he taunted, causing you and Rebekah to share a knowing chuckle.

"Here, Kol, see for yourself," you replied, tossing him your phone with a grin that was a mix of challenge and resignation. Kol’s eyes lit up with delight as he caught it effortlessly.

He immediately began swiping through your dating app, his expression shifting between mock horror and glee. Rebekah leaned over his shoulder, giggling at the profiles and messages he unearthed.

"Men these days," Kol lamented dramatically, "back in my day, we wrote poems and courted properly. This is far too impersonal."

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist. "Is that how you charm all the young witches? With poetry?"

Kol grinned, unabashed. "Oh, I hardly need to do any charming. They fall over themselves for me. It’s quite endearing."

"You are such a womanizer," Rebekah pointed out, shaking her head at Kol. Klaus, surprisingly, nodded in agreement, raising his glass to emphasize the point.

"You know who isn’t?" Kol mused, still swiping through the dating app on your phone. "Elijah."

The mention of Elijah caught your attention, and your curiosity piqued. "When was the last time he was in a relationship?" you asked, genuinely intrigued. You tried to recall, but nothing serious came to mind. Elijah had always seemed… reserved in that regard.

Before Kol or Rebekah could answer, they glanced behind you, their faces lighting up with amusement. You followed their gaze and felt your stomach do a little flip. Elijah had appeared, clad in a crisp white button-down and a tailored vest that seemed to fit him too perfectly for your peace of mind.

He greeted everyone with a polite smile before effortlessly slipping into the seat beside you. As he leaned over and stole your glass, his proximity made your pulse quicken. He took a sip, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring the taste, and then turned his attention to you. 

"It has been a while," he replied smoothly, finally answering your question. "Why do you ask?"

For a moment, you were distracted. Not just by his words, but by the way his shirt hugged his frame and the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal strong forearms. You realized he was waiting for an answer, and heat rushed to your cheeks.

"I-I… we were wondering when you were going to get back out there," you stammered, your usual composure faltering under his steady gaze. Elijah had a way of doing that, making you nervous in the most exhilarating way.

"It has been a while," he admitted, his voice calm and measured as he shrugged. His siblings, however, were far less composed, their expressions brimming with mischief. "What?" Elijah asked, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"How long? Weeks? Months?" Kol asked, his grin widening. Then, raising his eyebrows with mock disbelief, he added, "Years?"

"None of your business," Elijah replied, a small but unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. His usual composure didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of exasperated fondness in his tone.

"Oh, it's definitely years," Klaus exclaimed with a bark of laughter. "That is quite a long time. I am shocked you have not gone mad." He took a long sip of his drink, smirking over the rim of his glass.

Elijah rolled his eyes, brushing off their jabs with practiced ease. "It hasn’t been that long," he insisted, though his siblings’ skepticism was palpable.

"Sure, sure," Rebekah teased, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Kol. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their antics. The Mikaelson siblings were relentless when it came to teasing each other.

"I have an idea," Rebekah said suddenly, a devilish glint in her eye. "Let’s make you a dating profile." Before Elijah could protest, she was already reaching for his phone.

"You are not putting me on a dating website," Elijah said firmly, his brow furrowing as he attempted to grab his phone back. Rebekah, ever the quick one, held it just out of his reach, sticking her tongue out like a mischievous child.

"I think it’s a great idea," Klaus chimed in with a smirk. "You could use the release. Perhaps it will even help dislodge the stick in your ass." His laugh echoed through the room as Elijah retaliated by tossing a throw pillow at him.

Rebekah ignored the commotion and began typing on Elijah’s phone. "Let’s see… what should your bio say?" she mused aloud. Kol leaned over her shoulder, already snickering as he threw out suggestions.

"How about, 'Hi, my name is Elijah Mikaelson: your next regret. I specialize in brooding, being a bore, and eating pus-'" Kol’s suggestion was abruptly cut off by Rebekah’s sharp interruption.

"Too far, Kol!" she scolded, though she could barely suppress her own laughter.

Elijah shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance.

Klaus, having recovered from his own laughter, chimed in, "You forgot, 'Hi, I’m Elijah. Chivalry isn’t dead because I refuse to let it die. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for anyone who crosses my family.'"

For a moment, Elijah gave him the sternest of looks, but then his lips betrayed him, curving into a reluctant smile. You caught the faint crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"I do just fine without any of this nonsense," he said, gesturing to the phones.

Kol was quick to retort, "Well, clearly that’s not the case if it’s been years since you’ve been laid," his cheeky grin earning a round of laughter from everyone except Elijah.

"Let’s see here," Kol continued, unabashed. "What are you into?"

"You know the answer to that, Kol. It'll be something boring like books and classical music," Rebekah quipped, not even glancing up from the phone as she continued crafting Elijah’s profile.

"Those things aren't boring," you interjected, your tone firmer than you intended. You glanced at Elijah, catching the way his gaze softened in response. He offered you a small, grateful smile, the kind that made your stomach flutter despite yourself.

"Okay, I'm almost done," Rebekah announced, clearly pleased with herself as her fingers danced over the screen. A triumphant grin spread across her face. "There we go! Your profile is all set," she said, tossing his phone back to him.

Elijah caught it effortlessly, letting out a resigned sigh. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, though he dutifully swiped through the profiles, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the absurdity of it all.

You leaned over his shoulder, your curiosity getting the better of you. His proximity sent a wave of warmth coursing through you, but you focused on the screen. "Look, you’ve got a message already!" you exclaimed, pointing out the flashing notification.

"Oh, please no," he said with a weary shake of his head, clearly dreading whatever awaited him.

"Read it aloud," Rebekah urged, pouring herself another generous glass of scotch, her eyes alight with amusement.

"What’s the point? He’s going to turn them down anyway," Klaus drawled, swirling his drink lazily.

"I’m curious as to what she’s going to say," Kol added, his grin positively wicked as he leaned in for a better look.

"She’s really pretty," you observed, noting the woman’s profile picture. Your tone was meant to sound detached, but a trace of something else…envy?..slipped through. Elijah let out a heavy sigh, his finger hovering over the message before finally opening it.

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he read the text, his usually composed expression betraying a flicker of embarrassment. "You can’t be serious," he murmured, his voice low as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen.

From your angle, you caught enough of the message to know it was... bold. The woman wasn’t shy about what she wanted, and she was eager to meet him later that night. Your chest tightened, an unwelcome pang of jealousy sparking before you quickly brushed it aside.

"Oh, I’m dying to know what it says," Rebekah pressed, leaning closer in her attempt to sneak a look. "What’s her name?"

"Amanda," Elijah muttered, still scrolling through the message as if hoping it would suddenly become more tasteful.

"I bet it’s kinky," Kol teased, his voice dripping with mischief. His grin only widened when Elijah shot him a sharp glare.

"I will not dignify that with a response," Elijah said, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a firm finality. "Besides, I have no desire to go out tonight," he added, finishing his drink in a single, graceful motion.

"Oh, come on," you found yourself saying, nudging him lightly. "She’s gorgeous and looks like a lot of fun. Just meet up with her."

The words felt foreign as they left your lips, like they belonged to someone else entirely. Why were you encouraging him? Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding your judgment, or maybe it was a feeble attempt to appear unaffected. But deep down, the idea of him spending the night with another woman gnawed at you.

"As much as I appreciate the effort, I have no interest," Elijah said, his tone firm but calm. He poured himself another glass of scotch, his movements graceful and unhurried. "Besides, I've never been one for one-night stands."

"Why not? You should live a little," Rebekah mused, her gaze flickering between you two as if sensing the unspoken tension.

"It's not that I don’t enjoy life," Elijah countered, his voice steady. "I simply choose not to act on every impulse."

"So, you've never had a fling? Just for the hell of it?" you asked, genuinely surprised. The thought of someone as composed as Elijah letting go of his control intrigued you.

"I highly recommend it," Klaus interjected, a smirk tugging at his lips as he gave you a knowing look.

You quickly averted your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t want Klaus to think his past fling with you still lingered in your mind. Clearing your throat, you forced a casual tone. "Well, it’s just not healthy to go without some kind of release. That’s all I’m saying."

Elijah’s lips curved upward, his expression almost teasing. "I’ve been alive for centuries. I think I’ll manage," he replied, taking a deliberate sip of his drink.

"Alright, alright, well, we tried," Rebekah said with a laugh, effectively steering the conversation elsewhere. Yet, as the banter continued around you, you found it impossible to focus.

Your mind was spinning, refusing to let go of the idea of Elijah… with someone else. You tried to dismiss the thought, but instead, it spiraled into something entirely different. Unbidden, an image of him shirtless, his composure unraveling, flooded your thoughts. The heat that crept up your cheeks was undeniable now.

You attempted to shake it off, but every glance in his direction seemed to pull you deeper. The way his tongue flicked to catch the remnants of scotch on his lips, the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his sleeves were rolled just high enough to reveal strong, lean forearms. It was all maddeningly distracting.

But what captivated you most was his smile. Those faint creases around his eyes when he smiled. That smile that was both rare and disarming…made him impossibly handsome. It wasn’t just the smile itself; it was the way it softened his otherwise sharp, controlled features. Those creases hinted at warmth beneath his stoic exterior, and every time you saw them, your heart fluttered.

"(Y/N)?" Rebekah’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? What?" you asked, blinking rapidly as you looked around the room.

"You’re flushed. Are you alright?" Rebekah asked, concern furrowing her brow.

"I think I’ve had a bit too much," you said quickly, forcing a nervous laugh.

You reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. Scrolling through your notifications, you tried to focus on something, anything, that wasn’t Elijah. But when you opened the dating app, you froze.

There it was: Elijah’s profile. Rebekah had chosen a group photo for him, zooming in on his face, because the man had never taken a single selfie in his life. He looked effortlessly perfect, dressed in a three-piece suit, his hair slicked back, dimples on display, and his eyes warm yet piercing. Without thinking, your thumb swiped right.

The realization hit you like a freight train when Elijah’s phone buzzed almost immediately. He ignored it at first, leaving it face down on the table as he continued chatting with his siblings. Panic bubbled in your chest. Had you really just… matched with him? With him sitting right next to you? 

Your hands were clammy, your heart racing as another buzz sounded. Elijah reached for his phone casually, swiping it open. His brows furrowed slightly as he read the notification, his expression shifting from confusion to stillness. Then, as if in slow motion, a small smile crept across his face. Those familiar creases at the corners of his eyes deepened, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Well, what does it say?" Kol asked, clearly reveling in the suspense.

Elijah didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slid his phone into his pocket. His eyes met yours, and that small smile widened into something warmer, something that made your chest tighten and your pulse quicken. "Looks like I might have some fun after all," he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Your heart skipped a beat, and a rush of heat coursed through you. Despite yourself, you couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at your lips. What had you done? And why did his reaction make you feel so… giddy?

"What? Who messaged you?" Rebekah asked.

"It’s nothing," he said dismissively, finishing his drink with a calmness that belied the electricity sparking between you.

"Oh, come on, just tell us!" Klaus pressed, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Did you receive some nudes?"

Kol chuckled, leaning forward eagerly. "Please say yes."

Elijah rolled his eyes, his expression a mix of exasperation and fond amusement. "No, I did not," he replied, his tone calm but laced with dry humor. The corner of his mouth curved upward ever so slightly.

"You are impossible," Rebekah huffed, crossing her arms. Her annoyance at being left in the dark was clear.

Elijah straightened, adjusting his sleeves with characteristic precision. "This has been fun, but I have to go. Some of us actually have work to do tomorrow," he said smoothly, rising to his feet.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath as he moved to leave.

"Goodnight," Elijah called, his voice steady as he glanced at each of his siblings. When his gaze finally settled on you, the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background. That magical smile returned, his features softening as his eyes lingered on yours. Your stomach flipped, a warmth spreading through your chest.

"Goodnight," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a tightness in your chest, an anticipation that left you breathless. He lingered a moment longer, his eyes holding yours as if trying to convey something unspoken. Then, with a faint smile and a slight tilt of his head, he turned and disappeared upstairs.

One by one, the remaining Mikaelson siblings retired to their rooms until only you and Klaus were left. The silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the occasional clink of glasses as you both sipped on scotch.

"So," Klaus began, his voice soft as he broke the silence. "Want to go up to my room?" His tone was casual, but there was something thoughtful in his gaze as he regarded you.

You couldn’t deny the pull of his charm or the familiarity between you. It would have been so easy. To let yourself fall into old patterns, to escape into the comfort of his arms and forget everything else. But tonight, something was different.

"Not tonight," you replied with a sad smile, brushing the back of his hand affectionately. "Cami wouldn’t be very happy with you," you teased gently, hoping to lighten the moment.

"Fair enough," he relented, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his features. After a pause, his lips curved into a wry grin. "I guess Elijah wouldn’t approve either."

You blinked, startled by the mention. Before you could respond, Klaus continued, his voice quieter this time. "If there was ever anyone worthy of my brother, it’s you. You two deserve each other," he mused, his tone tinged with an unreadable emotion.

The sincerity in his words left you momentarily stunned. "Thanks," you murmured, your voice soft, unsure of what else to say.

Klaus chuckled, draining the last of his drink. "Now, get out of here," he said, his tone turning playful. "And tell my brother I said hello."

His wink was mischievous, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Just as you stood to leave, your phone buzzed in your hand. Glancing down, you saw a message from Elijah. Your breath caught.

Klaus leaned over with unabashed curiosity, catching a glimpse of the screen. His brows lifted, a smirk spreading across his face. "He’s not wasting any time," he quipped, earning an eye roll and a glare from you.

"Shut up," you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. As you turned to leave, a wave of nervous anticipation washed over you. You had no idea what awaited you upstairs, but the thought of seeing Elijah in private sent a shiver of excitement through your body.

"Goodnight," you called over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

"Good luck," Klaus called back, his laughter following you as you ascended the staircase.

The walk to Elijah’s room was a blur. Your pulse quickened with every step, your mind racing with possibilities. When you finally reached his door, your knuckles felt shaky as you knocked. The moments that followed felt endless until the door opened, revealing him.

Elijah stood there, his hair slightly disheveled, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked less composed than usual but no less striking. His gaze flickered over you, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Hey," you managed, your voice catching in your throat.

"Hey," he replied, his voice low and warm. His eyes roamed over you, his appreciation evident, and for a moment, the space between you seemed to disappear.

"So," he began, his voice steady, his eyes searching yours. "Did you get my message?"

Your heart fluttered, each beat reverberating in your chest. "Yes," you murmured, suddenly breathless under the weight of his gaze.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "And?" he prompted, his tone soft but teasing.

"And... I'm here," you said, your voice trembling, the words escaping more unsteadily than you intended.

That smile deepened, his eyes twinkling with amusement and something far more intense. "Would you like to come in?" he asked, gesturing inside.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your pulse hammering in your ears. He stepped aside, his gaze still locked on yours as you crossed the threshold. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, the air between you felt heavier, charged. The tension was almost tangible, a magnetic pull keeping you rooted to the spot as he moved closer.

The silence stretched, the tingling warmth of his presence washing over you. For a moment, you were paralyzed by indecision. Should you kiss him? Was he about to kiss you?

Then, as if reading your thoughts, his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, his hands coming up to cradle your face with a tenderness that made your knees weak. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close the gap between you.

He broke the kiss first, his breathing uneven, his dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I have to admit, I’m surprised," he murmured, his voice low.

You blinked, trying to focus despite the lingering sensation of his lips on yours. "About what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You. This. Everything," he said, his expression softening, though his gaze remained searching. "I thought you only had eyes for Niklaus," he teased gently, though there was something deeper in his tone, as if he was testing the waters.

You hesitated, hyper-aware of how close you were standing. The heat radiating off his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the brush of his breath against your skin. "It wasn’t anything serious," you said quietly, your words tentative but honest.

His thumb brushed along your jawline, the gesture achingly tender. "So, you're single then," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, the sound a mix of relief and desire.

"Yes," you breathed, the word barely audible.

"Good," he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. "Because I have no intention of sharing you."

The possessive edge in his tone sent a thrill down your spine, igniting something deep within you. Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper, hungrier, his tongue parting your lips and exploring, tasting you in a way that made your knees buckle.

You groaned softly, the sound muffled by his mouth, and began fumbling with the buttons on his vest, desperate to remove the barriers between you. He smiled against your lips, his hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, pulling you against him with a boldness that surprised you.

You had expected his gentlemanly demeanor to carry over, but his touch was insistent, his movements deliberate and confident. His grip tightened, and before you knew it, he had lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

Your heart pounded as he carried you to the bed, the world narrowing to the feel of his body pressed against yours and the heat building between you. When he laid you down gently, his weight above you, the realization hit. You wanted this. Every moment, every touch, every kiss.

This was happening.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he trailed kisses along your jawline and down the sensitive column of your neck. You continued to fumble with the buttons on his vest, the task made more difficult by his mouth, which was now exploring the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, the sound making your skin tingle.

"Maybe a little," you gasped, arching your hips into his as he bit down gently, his tongue soothing the mark immediately after.

You felt his weight shift as he shrugged off his vest, the sound of fabric falling to the floor making your heart race even faster. His hands were everywhere, firm yet gentle. As though he couldn’t decide whether to savor or devour you.

His hands slid down your sides, tracing the curve of your waist and settling on your hips. His grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you at the contact. Every move, every touch seemed to stoke the fire between you, the heat building to an unbearable intensity.

You tugged at the collar of his shirt, urging him to remove it, the need for his bare skin against yours overwhelming. With a low chuckle, he pulled away long enough to comply, discarding the shirt onto the growing pile of clothing.

You had always suspected he was hiding an impressive physique underneath his suit, but the sight of him still managed to catch you off guard. Toned muscles, smooth skin, those broad shoulders… and those arms. God, his arms.

You traced the outline of his bicep appreciatively, your fingers moving upward to follow the lines of his collarbone. He watched you explore, the way your eyes moved over his chest, following the faint trail of dark hair leading to his abdomen. A hint of a smirk pulled at his lips, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

You felt your cheeks go warm, and you reached down and pulled your dress up and over your head in one fluid motion. It was his turn to blush, the look on his face shifting from amusement to unmistakable desire. His gaze trailed over you, taking in the sight of your newly exposed skin, his eyes darkening with need.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, dipping his head to plant kisses along your collarbone, his lips brushing against the tops of your breasts.

He shifted his weight, rolling you both onto your sides. His hand lifting your thigh and hooking your leg around his hip, and his fingertips grazed the soft skin on the inside. Your eyes met his, and the heat pooling between your legs was impossible to ignore.

His fingers gently grazed the edge of your panties, the fabric already soaked through with need. He let out a soft groan at the discovery, his thumb moving steadily over the little nub of nerves through the thin cotton.

A sharp intake of breath was all you could manage as his deft fingers continued their torture. He was drawing patterns against the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every stroke. Your hips rocked against him, your hands pressed into his chest, nails digging into his skin.

He hummed softly, a hint of amusement in the sound. He was enjoying this. Seeing you squirm beneath him, reduced to a mess of desire. Your eyes met his, and his gaze was filled with a mix of fondness and lust.

"Don't tease," you managed, your voice hoarse with need.

"As you wish," he murmured, slipping his hand inside your panties.

He was nothing like Klaus, who was rough and urgent, taking what he wanted and giving just enough to leave you wanting more. No, Elijah was a different beast entirely.

You felt his fingers trace your entrance, slick and ready for him, before finally easing inside. He groaned, a sound so low and primal it made your toes curl. You arched into his hand, the feeling of his thick fingers filling you completely.

"'Lijah," you gasped, your words trailing off into a breathless moan as he began moving inside you with deep, slow strokes.

He continued his unhurried pace, smiling as he watched you squirm and pant beside him. His thumb returned to circle your clit, the combination exquisite. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it. How much pressure to apply, when to quicken the pace, when to slow down. All you could do was cling to him, your head spinning as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

You felt the familiar pressure building, and you closed your eyes, lost in the sensation. His free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your chin up. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, dark and intense.

"Eyes on me," he whispered, his voice commanding but tender.

You couldn't look away, caught in his spell, as your release began to crest. You felt him increase the pressure, the rhythmic stroking of his fingers pushing you over the edge. A sharp cry left your lips as the tension snapped, ripples of pleasure spreading through your body.

Your fingers curled into his skin, nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his shoulder. He looked down at the marks, a small, satisfied smile curving his lips.

You kissed him slowly, lazily, your body still humming with pleasure. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his erection pressing against your thigh, a silent plea.

You reached between you, cupping his length through his pants, he let out a soft hiss, watching you through hooded eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks flushed.

"Let me take care of you now," you whispered, palming his length.

He nodded, his lips parting in anticipation as you reached for his belt. You made quick work of it, freeing his erection from its confines.

You hummed appreciatively, admiring the way he filled your palm, so hard and smooth. With your other hand you pushed on his chest, guiding him to lie flat, his head on the pillow.

Your heart thudded as you positioned yourself over him, taking in the sight of him, laid out before you. His eyes were filled with anticipation and need, his expression almost boyish. He looked almost... innocent? Nervous? It was hard to read.

With a wicked grin, you bent down and wrapped your lips around him, sucking gently. A guttural moan tore from his throat, his hands finding their way into your hair. He didn't push, but held on as if his life depended on it.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, teasing and tasting. You took him further, relaxing your throat to accommodate his length. You moaned around him, the vibration eliciting a gasp from him.

You pressed a hand into his hips, keeping him steady, as your head bobbed up and down. Your other hand stroked the base of his shaft, coaxing him further, deeper. His hips jerked, trying to gain leverage, but your grip was firm.

His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling in short bursts. You had never seen him so disheveled, so undone. It was a heady feeling. Knowing that you were responsible for making the most refined man you had ever known fall apart.

You continued working him, using every trick you knew, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. He was murmuring things, his words tumbling out in a string of barely coherent compliments.

You hummed, enjoying his incoherence, the way his fingers tugged at your hair. The pressure was building, his breath becoming shorter and shallower. He was so close, you could taste it. You pulled back slightly, your tongue swirling around the tip once more.

He let out a low groan, his hips stilling as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed him greedily, savoring the taste of him, the sounds he made.

You looked up at him, taking in the sight of his parted lips, the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He looked beautiful. Wild and untamed. And completely yours.

The realization washed over you, sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through your body. Before you could examine it, he was pulling you underneath him, taking back control. His lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his hands sliding under your hips, pressing you closer.

The two of you just kissed for awhile, unhurried, enjoying the feel of each other. Your fingers explored his body, learning every dip and curve, committing him to memory.

"I must confess, it actually has been years," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words were spoken into the crook of your neck, his voice slightly muffled.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, his confession so unexpected.

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

He leaned back, his eyes shining with amusement. "That would be preferable," he agreed, planting a kiss on the underside of your jaw.

"The wait was worth it," he whispered, his voice low and full of promise.

You couldn't stop the blush that crept up your neck, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. He had that effect on you. Making you feel things you had never experienced before. He was so commanding yet tender. So confident, yet vulnerable.

You tugged him closer, wanting to be engulfed by his scent, his warmth. He obliged, slowly parting your legs with his knee, his erection pressing into the apex of your thighs.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath warm against your cheek. "Is this okay?" he whispered, his question genuine.

You nodded, not used to the way he was taking his time. You had never had someone take such care, treating your body like something delicate, precious. It was an odd feeling, and you found yourself craving it, eager to see what he would do next.

He brushed his nose against yours, a tender gesture, his hands lifting your thighs, pressing them against your stomach. You could feel his hard length against you, but he remained still, his gaze searching yours.

You realized he was waiting for an invitation. "Please," you breathed, unable to say more, your mind too focused on the feel of him, the heat building inside you.

His fingers gripped the back of your thighs, the pressure enough to bruise, as he eased into you slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut, his thickness stretching you, filling you completely. You moaned, your fingers digging into his biceps.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He set a perfect rhythm, his hips rolling against yours in a way that left you breathless.

Your hips rose to meet his, colliding in perfect harmony, his breath warm against your cheek. He murmured words of encouragement, his voice hoarse and low. Your name escaped his lips in a breathless gasp, the sound almost a prayer.

You could feel his love, his admiration, in every touch, every kiss, every stroke. It wasn't just sex. It was Elijah pouring every ounce of his devotion into you. You understood why he wasn't a man for one-night stands. He couldn't separate the act from the emotion. And for some reason, you couldn't either. Not with him.

His hands slid to your hips, steadying your movements as he slowed his thrusts, savoring the way you fit together. "Perfect," he breathed, his lips grazing the side of your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"Elijah," you whimpered, his name escaping in a gasp.

He was unraveling you, piece by piece, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pressure building, the familiar heat pooling deep inside you. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling into his skin as the first waves of your orgasm washed over you.

"That’s it," Elijah whispered, his voice like velvet against your ear, low and intimate.

Your body trembled, a moan escaping your lips as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body tensing, then relaxing. He rode you through it, his own release following yours, he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

For a moment, the world around you faded away, your thoughts only of him. You breathed each other in, the two of you still joined, hearts racing.

When the fog cleared, and reality came rushing back, all you could think about was the way his skin felt against yours. His body, warm and solid above you. You had never had sex like that before. It was intense, almost spiritual. You couldn't explain it, but there was something different about him. Something you had never experienced with anyone else.

"Well, that was..." you trailed off, looking up at him through your lashes.

He met your gaze, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Indeed," he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You let out a soft giggle, your cheeks warming under the weight of his stare. You snuggled into his chest, his strong arm wrapping around you, holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against yours. Your fingers absently traced patterns along his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong. You had never felt more content, more at ease.

"You're welcome to stay," he whispered, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

You hummed in agreement, letting him pull the blankets around you. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so comfortable. So safe.

The soft buzzing of his phone pulled you both back to reality, a reminder that the world outside still existed. Elijah sighed, the sound half-amused, half-irritated.

"Who is it?" you asked, the question partially muffled by his chest.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, his voice soft and reassuring.

You lifted your head, looking at the screen, and noticed all the messages notifications from the dating app. You chuckled.

"Someone is popular," you said, teasing him lightly.

He shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. You reached out and opened a message from one of his many suitors, a blonde woman who was unafraid to get right to the point.

‘My place? ;)’, the message read, along with a very provocative picture.

"I don't understand why people think sending a photo like that is appropriate," Elijah mused, his tone indignant.

You burst out laughing, the thought of Elijah, in all his old-fashioned glory, unable to comprehend the dating app culture, was too much.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't expect this," you teased, poking him gently in the ribs.

He caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the gesture so intimate, you could feel your cheeks flush.

"I'm aware of what dating apps are for, I'm just not interested in the kind of attention she's offering," he replied, his eyes meeting yours, the warmth in his gaze making your heart race.

"It's not all bad, you know," you said, a hint of mischief in your voice. "It worked for us," you pointed out.

He arched an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, his lips curving into a small smile. "But we would have ended up here regardless," he added, his confidence unwavering.

"Is that so?" you replied, trying to hide the way your heart was hammering against your chest.

"Yes," he said simply, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"And why is that?" you pressed, enjoying the way he was looking at you, his gaze full of adoration.

“This,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “was always meant to happen. You and I… we’re inevitable.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “Inevitable,” you repeated, the word tasting like a promise on your tongue. Whatever doubts or fears you had melted away in the warmth of his gaze, the quiet certainty that seemed to anchor you to this moment. As his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Wrapped in his embrace, your future unfolding one shared heartbeat at a time.

[vexxandra]

25 predictions for 2025 (pick-a-card reading)

happy new year sillies <3 01-01-2025 ☆

disclaimer: all of my readings are just for fun, you write your own story every day of your life, dont let me tell you how to live it

pile 1 > pile 2 pile 3 > pile 4

pile 1

biggest theme: change

reflexion and redirection are major elements of the new year

breaking free of past shackles : discarding old things

miracle year, a lot of wonderful things are coming

be selfish. you are in charge of your own happiness

you will learn to love yourself this year

fulfilling year especially in terms of career or academics. make sure to properly prepare in order to gain an edge over others

early bird gets the worm mentality

"winter arc" mindset the whole year. "lock in"

first six months will be very busy, you'll focus on yourself and not have the time for romance

learning how to collaborate with others

big lesson: learning how to work through burnout

august 2025 will be a very happy month for you

potential summer fling, will reginite flames you didn't know you had

some kind of soul fulfillment, could potentially be romantic or personal

imbalanced feminine energy, learning to reconnect with your divine feminine

a turbulent period will occur (im hearing mercury retrograde)

last half of the year might be grey

sleepy energy, taking things slower

make sure to rest, dont push yourself to move when sluggy

you're going to end the year with a nice energy. i see you surrounded by lots of family, friends and people you hold dear

if last year did not feel chrismassy, dont worry, because this year will

an extra message about children and new families. pregancy within you or another may occur

releasing all anxieties caused by this year, and a lot of reflexion

overall a pretty good year, some guidance i might give would be to not push yourself over the edge, and try not to drink too much caffiene <3

pile 2

biggest theme: self love

i get the feeling you've lost someone very important this year, most likely a break up, but you still have feelings for them

disillusionment and prioritizing yourself are big themes for this year

you're going to recognize that this person was pretty toxic and will take them off of their pedestal

learning how to fall in love again, with yourself and with life

reconnecting with your femininity

a lot of themes about toxicity and distancing yourself from people that don't have your best interests at heart

crown chakra healing by taking one day at a time (a LOT of light purple imagery in this reading)

very tumultuous first few months of the year, you'll feel like your life is flipping upside down and rightside up for a while

reconnecting with your spiritual guides and your spirituality/religion will bring you peace

if you're not religious, exploring some concepts may occupy your time

potential new romantic interest, but you must fall in love with yourself first

advice i can give would be to start something new, and to spend a lot of time by yourself. take yourself on dates and spend time with loved ones

sleep is very important this year, maybe consider starting a dream journal

i feel like most of you will get into some kind of artsy hobby this year. this can be anything from visual to musical to physical, but i can see it becoming a big passion

learning how to be more flexible in your thoughts and actions is a big lesson

springtime (particularly may) will be an amazing period

indie movie life in the spring, it'll feel like your life is straight out of a book

productivity, creativity, and happiness will be at an all-time high

you'll meet so many new people during this time, and im seeing some travelling too

child-like energy, almost like a giddy joy

make sure to not forget your responsabilities, i can see that you might be too caught up in your excitement and forget to balance work and play

overall very good year. it might not feel like it right now, but things are guarenteed to get better <3

some guidance i would give would be to reflect on your past, but never to dwell in it

pile 3

biggest theme: new beginnings and hope

amazing potential, i can see you're carrying something precious from 2024, and wanting it to grow in the new year

it will, but be sure to wait for the right time and approach it with dedication, consistency and care

strong foundations are laid, but be sure to not be reckless

good communication and problem resolving skills are going to be very important this year

flexibility and detachment are going to be vital too, dont try to control situations and dictate outcomes

forgive others for their mistakes but be sure to be assertive too

for those in a romantic relationship: this relationship will last a long time <3

messages about changing your identity, there will be a time when you dont recognize yourself, take some time to reconnect with your inner values

"lucky girl syndrome" mindset. you'll be attracting so many blessings this year

abundance really is yours this year, the cards are showing so many blessings coming your way

affirm to yourself that you have everything you desire, and it will appear

summertime will be an extremely happy period for you. i see a lot of happy memories being made, and a lot of productivity as well

the end of summer and fall might be when things slow down a little, i see a little more uncertainty and anxiety, but it will all pass

big emphasis on relationships this year, but mostly romantic

for those currently in a relationship, here is confirmation that your person is a soulmate and will be in your life long-term

for the singles out there, you'll soon meet an amazing person (timeframe: june or july)

in terms of academics and career, your year will be pretty tame

there will be important decisions to make, and that might stress you out, but the outcome will be good

bottom line: the ending of this year will be good, and there's nothing you can do to change that

important lessons you will need to learn will be to think things through before acting upon them, hanging with people you feel truly appreciate you, and walking away when you feel they don't

appearances may be deceiving, make sure the people you surround yourself with have your best interests at heart

do not compare yourself with others, this year will hammer in that lesson time and time again

overall a very good year, some guidance i would give would be to guard your heart from people with negative intentions. there are snakes and backstabbers everywhere, keep yourself safe <3

pile 4

biggest theme: self-improvement

this year you'll return to your roots, fully shedding your old life to try and reconnect with your innermost values

reassess what works for you and what doesn't, i sense a lot of toxcitity in your life

this year you'll develop many new relationships with many new people

these relationships will provide interpersonal insight: remember that you are who you surround yourself with

this year, you'll practice setting boundaries

its never aggressive to be assertive, and those who matter won't mind

despite the heavy focus on new relationships, prioritize yourself

going on walks, meditating, journalling and going on solo dates are all amazing ways to start to feel comfortable alone

this year will be full of endings, dont resist it, embrace it

change isn't inherently bad, just like how difference isn't inherently bad

very financially stable year, you'll be more open to taking career risks

if there were any financial struggles in the past year, take comfort in knowing there will be little to nothing of the sort in the future

be careful to not be boastful about your finances though, as its better to succeed in silence

you create your own happiness, you are the main character, stop relying on others to save you

this year, you'll stop seeking others validation and look inside of yourself to find what you've been searching for in others

you'll be stepping into a bad bitch energy this year, one that feels comfortable being alone or with others

strong leadership is something you'll be developping this year, as well as strong manifestation skills

you want it, you're going to get it!!

go after all of your goals this year, hesitance will do you no good

i can see that at the end of the year, you'll emerge a totally different person

you'll be more confident, self-assured and more joyful (i sense that autumn is an important time period)

overall, this year will be a fresh chapter in your life

you'll shed the old you, bad habits, and negative aspects to make way for a life and personality that's authentically you

some advice i would give would be to not be afraid to stand apart, dont worry about the opinions of others

speak of success, and it will come to you <3

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Cool Daddy Russell

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: While watching your son grow up and supporting his racing career same as his father’s, you need to find balance in your family life. Being pregnant again, with the possibility of your husband retirement (he’s just joking, but you never know), it looks much easier this time.

Warnings: none, just love and pregnancy

A/N: To be honest, I really struggled with how to name this one. Started this between Christmas, when I saw some photos of George from earlier years of his career, and woke up today to finish it. I really love the idea of being pregnant with George, so… Enjoy it!

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

As much as you adored your son, it was really exhausting to attend the races, now F3. Apart from your super successful husband George Russell, who was in his last years of the F1 career (as he liked to say for most of the time), you were the one to be with Alex, your fifteen year old son, at his races. He practically grew on the grid, when you were accompanying George through the seasons, his own desire to start karting grew rapidly, same as his feet out of his shoes.

Now you stood at the sideline, watching the practice session, where your son participated. George promised to make it, to jump from his tight schedule. Alex really wanted his father to be there, because this weekend he had the best chance to win a championship, being only a few points behind his leading teammate.

When you nearly lost a hope about George’s presence, he just appeared next to you with a wide and proud smile, looking over the track for the sign of his son.

“Well, hello, Mr. Mercedes.” You let out an amused chuckle at the nickname you used from the time he won his first F1 championship. His smile grew into a grin, kissing your cheek, while his hand rested on your baby bump.

“How’s our little girl doing?” Whispering into your ear, while he nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo he immensely loved, he still managed to hold his gaze over the track.

“She’s good, but mommy is tired.” You chuckled, enjoying the much needed closeness of his body.

“I know, I’m sorry. I tried to be here yesterday already, but you know how it goes..”

“That’s okay. Alex nearly had a panic attack and was about to lose his mind, at the idea of you not being here.”

You said it so casually, that it made George back off a little to look at you with concern.

“Well, happy to be here.”

The age gap between your kids really didn’t bother you, you were happy to be pregnant again after that long time, because there wasn’t time for parenthood with George’s hectic life. You spent so much time at the sidelines with your son, that idea of having another child hadn’t crossed your mind. You were grateful that your due date was at the end of the F1 season, when your son and husband will be home with you, waiting for arrival of a new addition to your family. What was worrying you more, was that with Alex possible move up to the F2, there would be no one to accompany him on his races as you did to this time.

“You’re worried again. What is it this time?”

George’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Just.. who will be with Alex next season? It surely can’t be me.” Your look dropped at your swollen belly.

George fixed his cap, thinking for a few moments, his face having that strange expression he always had, when he hid something from you.

“George?”

He looked at you, then over at the track, when he caught a glimpse of the car of his son’s team. Smiling proudly, he now stood in front of you, his left hand over your shoulder and the right over your belly.

“I wanted to tell you later, but.. I was thinking about it for a long time, I’m practically champion again, but it’s not as it used to be. Through those years I managed to win it for five times, and now I feel that it’s enough. That I want to spend more time with my family, with you. Time fly by so fast and I really don’t remember the last time we had a time for ourselves only. Oh, yeah, I remember, it was that night that resulted in you being heavily pregnant now.”

You let out a soft laugh, his smug smile flashing at you, caressing your belly proudly.

“So… what I’m trying to say is, that I want to retire. And I’ll be there for Alex next season. He’s gonna have the best couch he can get.”

Looking into your eyes, he tried to catch on your reaction. But you were shocked at first and then relieved.

“Finally..” you teased him with playful smile.

“Hey! I’m not that old.” George pouted innocently.

“Being nearly forty is not that old.” You were still making fun of him.

“Well, yeah, I was talking about retiring for past years, but it was just a joke. Now it’s not.”

Placing your hands over his cheeks, you kissed his nose sweetly, taking in his growing facial hair.

“You really plan on to stop shaving your face?”

“I look more cool now. Cool daddy Russell.”

George smirked and you just bursted into laughter.

“You’re surely daddy, but cool…”

“Little miss, you’re enjoying this too much, don’t you?”

“I love to tease you, baby.”

———

Alex stepped out of the car, his frustration clear, he was concerned about his performance next day, he needed to qualify on top positions to win a championship.

“Great job on the track, buddy.” George’s voice interrupted his thoughts, he couldn’t believe that his dad was there.

“Dad.. you’re here.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss your big weekend.”

George hugged him tight, always being proud of him, even though he didn’t score, he was still proud that name Russell was present at the motorsport.

Alex wrapped his arms around him too, nearly losing his emotions.

“But what if I won’t get it? What if I’m not good enough to be a champion?”

George gave him a reassuring pinch on his cheek with smile. Alex was like his carbon copy, but he had your eyes and smile.

“Son.. you were always enough and surely there’s always place for being even better, but don’t underestimate yourself. You’re strong, you have a great mind, you’re determined driver. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, dad. This means so much to me.”

“I’m proud of you already, Alex.”

You were watching them from afar with wide smile, happy to have your little family reunited.

———

With Alex’s F3 championship and George’s F1 championship now secured, you were ready for Christmas but also for the birth of your baby girl.

George’s retirement was wild, everybody on the grid was shocked but understanding. He was enjoying his time with the family, being glued to your side now, when the baby was about to come.

Day before Christmas your water broke and you went into labor, the birth being quick and easy, which was like a gift for you.

Laying on the hospital bed, propped against the pillows, your face being slightly exhausted, you were holding your baby girl against your chest, while she cooed from her sleep. George, sitting beside you, his finger caressing the small soft cheek of the baby, was smiling proudly. The room was quiet, holding the peaceful moment of the new life.

“Well… we named Alex after your best friend. So, what do we have in mind this time?”

You chuckled softly at the memory of naming your firstborn after Alex Albon.

“What about Charlotte?” George smiled, looking at you.

“Mmm… that sounds nice. Charlotte Russell. And who do we honour this time?”

“This name stuck in my mind lately. But some would say that it’s close to Charles Leclerc.” George rolled his eyes annoyed.

“Still not over that year he stole your championship?”

“I will never- hm. Even though you had a hard time birthing our baby, you have energy to tease me.”

You let out a soft laugh, kissing his cheek. “It wasn’t that hard. Quite easy.”

“Yeah. I saw it on your face.”

George scrunched his face in slight frown, his eyes now full of worry.

“I hate to see you in pain. Even though I’m making fun of it later. Because I’m trying to lighten up the situation.”

“I know you, George. I know that you care for me. But I’m good now. Healthy and safe, same as our little girl. I won’t be in this situation again.”

George gave you a mischievous smile. “You sure? With me home now, retired, I’m ready to give you more babies. I kinda like you pregnant.”

You gave him a feigned offended look saying ‘I just gave birth, are you kidding me?!’

He started to laugh, placing a soft kiss to your temple, looking down at their daughter.

“Don’t worry, just kidding. It’s up to you. I’ll be just a donor.”

“George!”

With your voice raised up, and his loud laugh, the baby started to cry again.

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 5

authors note: it's been so long. omg. i'm sorry. thank you to my bestie @prettypynklemonade for essentially making me update this 😭

masterlist

words: 6.7k

**gif by @dejameflorecer

warnings: some fluff, roman being possessive/borderline stalkerish, and smut

It’s just a date. Just a low, non-commitment type of date. 

At least, that’s what Solana keeps trying to tell herself. Keeps trying to remind herself. Keyword being trying, because of course, she decided to go the route of self-sabotage and self-harm by keying in Rhea on just what’s been going on, and more specifically, who she’s going on said date with.

“Are you out of your fawking mind?” Solana sighs while Kayden does her eyeshadow for her. 

The shorter woman snorts, working to blend in the crease color. “Well, that went as expected."

“Is this a joke? It has to be a joke?” She walks over to the two women, her tall presence alone demanding their attention. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

Kayden bites on her lip. “I—I don’t think it’s a joke.”

Solana sighs. “Rhea—”

“Sola.” Nothing about her voice indicates anything about what she’s about to say is going to be nice. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s just a date, Rhea.”

“Yeah, with Roman fawking Reigns.” Solana winces at the disgust imbued in his name. “He’s a sociopath. Why the hell would you even want to go out with someone like that?”

“He’s not….” Solana stops, unsure of how to word it. “I think there’s more to him than people realize.”

“Yeah, more evil,” Rhea harshly rebuffs. “Whatever you think you see in him, I promise, is an act. If he’s being nice to you, it’s only because he wants to fuck you.”

Another wince from Solana as Rhea more or less reiterates what Kayden first hypothesized when Solana confided in her best friend about the man. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kayden speaks up, turning to Rhea. “Regardless of how we may feel, Solana is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

“This isn’t a decision. It’s a big ass mistake.” Rhea’s gazes soften for the first time, her tone almost pleading. “Solana, please don’t do this. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Roman Reigns is the exact kind of person who would hurt you.”

It’s strange. Just a month ago, Solana would 100% agree. Would not even be in this situation, because she would have found a way to cut Roman off, get away from him, even if it meant leaving town for a little while.

But, that was before she got to know him. Well, as much as one can get to know a mafia head who seems insistent on making her his, not excluding breaking into her home to ask her out on a date.

Solana is especially happy she decided to leave that part out of the story.

“It’s just a date,” is the final answer she settles on, not missing the disappointment in Rhea’s pretty blue eyes. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

It’s definitely not the answer her friend was looking for, and Rhea doesn’t hesitate to make her disagreement known. As well as her boundaries.

“Well, I don’t want him here. This is your home, but it’s ours too,” she gestures between herself and Kayden. “And if you want to play with fire, I don’t want the flames anywhere near us.”

It’s a bit hurtful but fair. Solana nods. “I understand.”

She can’t allow herself to think about how the flames have already entered their humble abode, partially because of Roman’s lack of boundaries, but mostly because she’s continued to allow the lack of said boundaries.

Rhea’s gaze is assessing. “Your family doesn’t know, do they?” Intended as a question. Comes out as a statement.

Solana’s answer is quiet. “No.” 

Another pointed look. “I wonder why that is.”

“Okay,” Kayden cuts in, nervous chuckling a contrast to the tension building. “Obviously, we don’t necessarily agree with Solana’s actions, but again, we listen and we don’t judge.” 

Rhea scoffs. “Speak for your fucking self.” She kicks off the door, turning to leave when Solana calls her name. A blown out breath followed by her turning around. “Yeah?”

It feels wrong to ask, but Solana doesn’t have much of a choice. “Please…..please don’t say anything to anyone.”

A small smile sets on Rhea’s face, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You know, Sola, the fact that you even have to ask me that should tell you how fucked up this is.” The smile is wiped away, replaced with the disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have zero desire to tell anyone about this.”

—------

“You wanted to see me?”

Roman lifts his eyes from the contracts laid out in front of him. Right away, he can see his sister is annoyed. Unsurprising. Rosalia looks and is irritable on a daily basis, but considering her activewear, he’d bet she’s even more irked with him because he’s interrupted her training.

Slamming the door behind her, she walks in and props down on the sofa closest to said door. “It better be worth my fucking time, too.”

Her comment doesn’t bother him. Roman sits back in the chair, responding in a calm but steel voice, “I’m gonna right to the chase.”

She glares. “As you should.”

Roman’s smile is small and wry. “You’re interfering in my personal business, Rosie.” The smile is dropped. “You know I don’t like that shit.”

Rolling her eyes, his twin couldn’t be more unbothered. “You mind telling me what the fuck you’re talking about? Not that I care, but—”

“I know you said something to Solana,” he interrupts, gaze cutting. “Something that upset her.” Something that made her try to push him away, and that’s the part that really pisses him off. 

His words seem to trigger something for his sister. “That little girl from the fight?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “She’s even more sensitive than I thought.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the truth.” Rosalia’s response is nonchalant as she casually admires her nails. “Just reminded her that she isn’t any different than your other hoes—”

Roman looks away, rolling his neck, doing his best to remind himself that Rosalia is his sister. She’s family. His response to her can’t be like it would to anyone else in this moment, where he’d already have pulled out his gun and lodged a bullet in their head.

He has to be…..mindful.

Running his hand through his beard, Roman manages a curt response. “Do me and yourself a favor, and stop fucking talking.” Because the more she does, the harder it will be to control his brewing temper. “Stay the fuck away from Solana.”

If he didn’t have her attention before, he most definitely has it now. “Excuse me? I don’t give a fuck about any of your little whores—”

He slams his fist on the desk, unable to taper his temper. “Call her out her name one more fucking time, Rosalia.”

His twin, however, is unbothered. Her eyes narrowing, assessing, studying. “Careful, brother, your feelings are showing.” Roman says nothing as his sister leans forward, head tilted. “You actually like this girl, don’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t answer the question, either. “As I said, my personal life is none of your fucking business.” 

Not answering the question is a bit of a necessity, because he doesn’t really know how to answer it. Saying he likes Solana feels a bit too much. He’s intrigued by her, massively so, intensely attracted to her and fantasizes about the day he can fuck her senseless. However, all of that can be true along with the fact that he doesn’t actually care about or like her.

Again, it’s just the intrigue of it all. She’s the first of many, many, women he’s entertained over the years that hasn’t fallen at his feet. Who he is, the power he holds, and the wealth he possesses doesn’t make her bat an eye. None of that means anything to her. In fact, she’s most definitely the first woman he’s had to pursue in his over thirty years on this earth, and while that may seem irksome and not worth it for most women, Solana is different. He doesn’t know how, but it and she just is. Hence him needing to put his sister in her place before she fucks up just whatever this is.

“And I as I told you, I don’t give a fuck about your personal life and who you decide to fuck. She was just there, and I told her the truth. Not my fault she couldn’t fucking handle it.”

“Rosalia.” He closes his eyes, that damn temptation to snap on her at an all time high. He’d never hit his sister, not unless they were training together, but he certainly isn’t above cussing her ass out and screaming at her. Right or not. “I’m only going to say it once. Leave Solana alone.”

His twin matches, meets, and maintains the stare-off. Sibling against sibling. Alpha vs Alpha. Naturally, she is the first to walk away, not back down. Never that. Just recognizes it isn’t worth it.

“Whatever.” She dismisses, standing up, hands on her hip. “Anything else you need to waste my time with?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning on her heel. “Didn’t think so.”

Anyone else would receive a much different response, especially as his sister slams the door, but as already stated, this is his sister. Rosalia drives him insane, but he loves her. It’s always been the two of them, and it always will be. Immediate family, at least. He just needed to establish some boundaries with her, and that’s been done. Should she decide to test them and test him, well, he’ll cross that bridge if and when they get there.

He doesn’t have time to focus on that. 

He’s got a date tonight to focus on. 

—--------

“Oh my gosh…..”

Solana has been on her fair share of dates. Most of which take place at a restaurant, from regular ole Red Lobster to restaurants with names so foreign and fancy that she can’t pronounce. Though the latter only happened once, and it was a disaster, resulting in her sneaking out halfway through the date.

But this, standing on the dock in front of the most stunning yacht she’s ever seen, she's certain that this takes the cake.

Solana is prompted by security to move so they can escort her onto said yacht, and she's so consumed by taking in everything majestic around her that she ends up completely oblivious to when she’s taken directly in front of the man himself.

Roman

He’s dressed appropriately given the setting and weather. Nice, short sleeved beige shirt with khaki shorts and matching shoes. Expensive watch on his wrist. Gold chain around his neck. Smoldering gaze on her, drinking her in from the bottom of her heels to the top of her head where her hair is pulled up in a nice updo.

He licks his lips. “Gotta admit, I was hoping you’d wear red.”

She refuses to tell him she considered it. “I—I like pink.”

He makes a sound and offers his hand. Solana takes a second to accept it, gasping quietly when he tugs her closer. “I like it.” His eyes flicker with something. “I think I’d like you better in nothing instead though.”

Solana tenses, hating the way she’s hit with something other than discomfort and is immensely grateful when he smiles. “Relax, sweetheart.” He starts to guide her behind him to where she realizes a table is set up for them, a romantic, beautiful dinner. “I’m a man of my word.” Solana tries not to think too much of him pulling out her chair for her. “I said no touching.”

Damn.

Embarrassment fills her at such a betraying thought, because why should she feel disappointed at that? 

Roman sits across from her, staring almost. “God, you are breathtaking.”

It’s hard not to look away when God Himself bestows such a compliment. “Thank you.” And she means it, something warm and almost comforting brewing in her belly, replacing the abundance of nerves. “You—you look handsome.”

He always looks handsome though. 

And judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it. “Thank you.” His gaze is studying, as he admits, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Curious, she asks, “what would have happened if I didn’t?”

His smile is cheeky. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

She does. Solana knows this man would welcome himself into her home once more. Into her bedroom. And potentially, into her.

Thus, her showing up tonight truly was for the best, and the more she sits across from him, dialogue easy amongst them, something tells it was also the right thing to do.

Solana glances around, suddenly unnerved by him looking at her so much. It’s equally unsettling as it is flattering. “This is beautiful. You—you rented it out for us for tonight?”

He smiles again, but it’s more amusing than anything. “I own it.”

Her eyes widen. “You own it?”

“Bought it for tonight,” he answers, making her eyes widen even more as he reaches for the bottle of wine, popping it open and starting to pour some in her glass followed by his.

“Wait, you bought a yacht for our date?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “An actual yacht?”

“Pretty sure I answered that already.”

“Roman, that’s…..” She trails off, unsure just what to say and make of that. “We—we could have went to a restaurant or something.” Solana would have preferred that over him spending an obscene amount of money for just one night.

He shrugs. “You said you wanted something private.”

“Restaurants have private rooms, Roman.”

His voice is dangerously calm and smooth. “But not a private bedroom.”

Oh, Jesus.

Solana shifts in her chair, looking away as he chuckles. “Are you always this wound up?”

“I’m not wound up” she replies, feeling an unfamiliar amount of defensiveness. “It’s just….you’re very bold.” And, you don’t take no for an answer.

“I see something I want, and I go for it.” Is his simple reply as he picks invisible lint off his shirt. “That’s extended to people as well.” 

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Eager for a changing of subjects, she’s about to inquire about when the waiter—or whomever—will arrive when he takes her for yet another loop. “So, I was looking at your Instagram—”

“My Instagram?” She doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s hard not to. “H—how?” A valid question considering her page is private, and it’s been a couple weeks since she accepted any follow requests.

“I told you already. When I want something, I get it.” His answer objectively makes no sense but somehow answers her question. “I didn’t read your bio. Just looked at your pictures.”

Swallowing, she finds herself asking, curious almost, “and?”

His brow lifts, matching her curiosity. “And?”

Unsure why she's suddenly so nervous, Solana clears her throat, asking, “what did you think?”

The delay with his answer is the farthest thing from helpful with her anxiety. “I think there’s a lot more to you, Solana Miller, than I initially realized.”

Another almost vague answer that has her sitting forward in her seat, asking almost desperately, “is—is that a good or bad thing?”

The smile returns, and for the first time tonight, it doesn’t seem or even feel like there’s something underneath it. Just a genuine, authentic smile. 

“Tell me the more, and I’ll let you know.”

Solana chews on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to mess up her lipstick by biting down on her bottom lip. "What do you want to know?" 

His answer is instantaneous this round. "Everything."

It’s such a broad response, and off the top of her head, Solana is struggling to recall her posts. She’s shared photos of herself, obviously. Photos with friends and family. Photos of her bookstore and hobbies that include cooking, books, bible journaling, and even her horse, Rainbow. 

But, all of that seems too much to dump on a man for the first date.

Maybe the last.

Thus, her settling on sticking with the major things. 

"There's not much to me,” she answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her champagne before continuing. “I'm....I'm an RN, but I've been on sabbatical for almost two years now. I—" There's a type of sadness that bleeds into her voice. "I was working in the ER, but the things I saw...." She shakes her head. "I just needed a break, needed to not be surrounded by so much death.” An honest, truthful, almost vulnerable thing she’s grateful Roman doesn’t press her on despite the absolute intrigue in his expression as she shares pieces of herself. 

A small smile falling on her face, she continues. “I've always found an escape in books and writing. Another passion I share with my mom, and we opened the bookstore and that....that's been it."

She’s not sure what she expected him to follow up with, but his question certainly isn’t it. "Does she work there with you?"

Ignoring the almost warmth that fills her at such an innocent, kind question, Solana shakes her head, "No, she's a cardiologist over at Central hospital." For whatever reason, even though he most definitely did not ask, Solana finds herself providing additional, unasked information, "she was a nurse back in Mexico, but when she married my dad and moved to the states, she went back to school and got her MD."

He sits forward, elbows on the table. "Did you ever want to do the same? Be a doctor?"

"I did, but...." Solana leans back in her seat, shrugging. "I was a gifted kid. I did all honors classes and a running start program, so when I graduated at 18, I already had my associates and was only in undergrad for 2 years. Did an accelerated program to get my RN, and by 20, I just felt burnt out from it all. I needed a break from school. Then I needed a break from nursing, and now I'm just....trying to enjoy the quiet."

An ironic thing considering there's nothing quiet about the man sitting across from her. 

It’s what causes her to ask, voice soft, "Roman....what do you want from me?" 

Because this can’t keep going on without her knowing just where they’re going. She needs some guidance, some insight into where his head is. Outside of the sexual aspect of this all. 

That part is very clear.

Roman seems to really sit and mull over her question, his handsome face shifting into something serious and genuine. "Not sure, but I'm intrigued by you, and that doesn't happen. Ever. So, I want to see where this goes."

It’s an answer, so she can respect that much. But, the fact that specificity is lacking in his response bothers her. What about her intrigues him? Is it the fact that he’s been able to initiate some type of intimacy both times they’ve been alone? Does she seem easy to him? Because, if that’s the case, the line in the sand needs to be drawn here and now. 

“Roman.” Solana is the one to take her time in figuring just how to word this. "You should know that I—I meant it when I said I'm not like that. I don't—I don't sleep around." Or at all, but he doesn't need to know that. Something tells her Roman knowing she's a virgin will only increase whatever interest he has in her. And, not in a good way. "I don't—”

His response arrives right away. “I know you don’t, and if that was what I was wanting, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Something tells her he’s being honest. If actual, full on sex is what he was after, he certainly wouldn’t be with her right now.

And it’s his honesty that creates that bridge for her. “Roman, I know we’ve….done things.” More him doing all the things to her. “But, I mean it. I—I don’t want to have sex with you.” And before he can press her, inquire just what and why, she explains, “sex means something to me. It’s not just a thing you do. It’s a bond and connection, and I only want that with someone I have a bond and connection with.” And, I don’t with you. 

Might not ever.

“I’m fine with….other things.” She doesn’t feel the need to elaborate on that. He should know exactly what the ‘other things’ are. “But….penetration is where I draw the line.” And just where the next quiet part comes from, she hasn’t the slightest clue. But, she says it, and she says it loud enough for him to hear, whether intentional or not. “For now.”

It’s a stupid additive. One that makes his brow lift and Solana swallow. If she didn’t give up her virginity to her fiancé of all people, what chance does Roman have? It doesn’t even make any sense. He’s the last person she can see herself going that far with.

“For now….” And of course he settles on that part. Solana hates herself right about now. “I don’t really agree with you. On sex, I mean. We clearly have very different views on that, but regardless, I respect it. I will respect it.”

Oh.

That….that’s not exactly what she was expecting. 

At all.

“So what…what does that mean?”

Because now she’s even more confused than before. Because she was convinced the minute she made it clear she has no intentions on sleeping with Roman tonight, or any other night, he’d shut the shit down. Would pull away. 

That’s clearly not what's happening though. 

Roman’s answer is clear, concise, and assertive. “It means that doesn’t change what I said earlier.” He reaches his hand across the table, turning hers over, fingers tracing her palm. “I’m still intrigued and still want to see where this goes.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on each word that leaves his mouth, trying her best to process it. All of it.

What the hell is even going on? How did she end up in this position? Roman represents everything she hates about the world she was born into. People like him are the reason she’s done her best to stay away and keep her distance. 

And now, as Rhea pointed out, she’s playing with the fire God himself.

Yet there’s been zero effort on her part to extinguish the flames.

Even as they threaten to lap and consume her.

—--------

For all intents and purposes, dinner is enjoyable and not just the meal itself. Conversation between herself and the Head of the Table is normal, casual, their banter almost something natural and organic. 

And she finds herself just as interested in him as he is in her. Finds herself asking more questions about him, wanting to know more about the man who seems to not exactly be what she always thought him to be. 

Like the fact that he can cook. Or rather, claims that he can. Or that he makes an effort every Sunday to watch football with his cousins, his “best friends” as he calls them. Or even his interest in photography he shares with her, even a couple photos from his phone.

And with each tidbit shared, the normalization deepens. Roman feels less and less like a thing and more and more like a person.

The staff have just cleared the tables, Solana wiping her mouth when he asks, “where do you want to go for the next date?”

For the twentieth time tonight, she’s taken off guard. “Next date?” The small smile on her face betrays her as she teases him almost, “who said I agreed to one?”

Roman chuckles, once again reaching for her hand, holding it this time. “You did the second you stepped foot on this boat.” Her stomach drops, chest tightening for reasons unknown. “Agreed to this.”

Her heartbeat is in the danger zone as she asks in a low voice, “and what is this?”

He doesn’t skip a beat or take his eyes off her, answering so confidently, “us.”

Us

Solana is a mess. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

Shifting, she moves into a new space of trying to set more ground rules with the man who has her questioning almost everything she thought she knew about herself. “Roman, there’s no—”

“Come here.” 

Two words. So simple. Also challenging.

“Roman….”

He sits back in his chair, legs spreading just enough. “Solana, come here.”

Here would be his lap. Here would be a place that she absolutely should not be. But, it’s also the exact place she finds herself moving towards. Barely in front of him, Roman doesn’t hesitate to yank her down on his lap. She’s sideways, face angled down at him, hands on his shoulders. 

"Let me help you understand." Roman’s fingers dance up the spine of her back, adjusting her position on his lap, Solana having to ignore the sizable bulge underneath pressing into her ass. 

Why is he hard?

An unspoken question that’s drowned out by the alluring sound of his deep voice. "You're with me now. That means if someone looks at you, I'll kill them." His hand eventually moves to the side of her breast, applying just the lightest pressure, but enough to have her squeezing his thigh. "If they breathe too hard around you, I'll kill them." Solana has to bite on her bottom lip to retain what's bound to be a moan when he slides his hand to the front of her body, fingertips massaging her exposed skin through the cutouts of her skimpy dress. "And if they try to fucking touch you, they'll wish I had killed them when all is said and done." 

Completely stunned, she isn’t sure how to respond to that. Isn't sure what to say. Her response is truly something that spills out her mouth….”you’re crazy.”

Roman, however, just chuckles. “I’ve been called much worse, sweetheart.” He then sits up a bit, her eyes closing as he ghosts his lips over her shoulder. “Regardless, you still came tonight, stayed, and now you’re sitting on my lap. You know why?” Solana gasps when he moves his hand between her legs. “Because you like this shit. You like how I make you feel. All flustered and discombobulated.” She swallows, and he hums against her, asking, “wanna know how I know?” He easily slides his fingers past her soaked panties, grazing her wet pussy lips and lifting his hand to show her the proof of her body betraying her. 

Roman presents the undeniable evidence. “This is how.” And if the situation wasn’t already erotic enough, Solana can barely contain herself on his lap when he sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking each off.

Her stomach is caving and twisting and doing all sorts of things. “Roman…” 

This.  All of this is the exact reason why Solana has wanted to stay far away from this life. Has wanted nothing to do with the mafia world. The violence. The carnage. The mayhem. And yet, her thighs press together at Roman's oath and his carnal act for reasons she can't decipher.

His gaze drops to her legs, and she curses inwardly. Once again, her reaction to him is out and in the open. 

Roman smirks. "You're touch deprived...." His assessment is embarrassingly accurate. It's gross how Roman's inherently innocent touches seem to evoke more from her than her hand ever could. "I can't wait to fix that."

Solana swallows and taps into some deep rooted assertiveness as she asks, "what about you?"

Roman continues to lightly touch her through her dress. "What about me?"

Her stomach is doing all kinds of weird things, and her head clearly is several miles behind, because there's no logical basis for what comes out of her mouth next. "If—if I can't be with anyone else, then...then neither can you." 

His eyes flicker with something akin to disapproval. “I can't fuck you, but you don’t want me fucking anyone else?” He makes a sound, finger moving circles around her thigh. “Doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

On one hand it doesn’t, but on the other, it makes sense to her. “You say…you say you want to get to know me, to see where this goes, well that’s….that’s my stipulation.” The only one she’s really set throughout this whole thing that probably shouldn’t even be a thing in the first place. 

Roman is quiet for another good minute, finally answering. “Fine.” It’s painfully obvious he’s not excited about this caveat, but he agrees, nonetheless. “But, I meant what I said.” His voice and gaze darken again. “No one touches you but me.” His hand lifts to her neck, grasping just enough to evoke a gasp but not enough to restrict breathing. “Is that understood?”

Solana’s gaze is locked with his as she licks her lips, answering breathlessly, “yes.”

And just like that, the darkness settles into something easy.  “Good,” he says it so simply, so casually, hand dropping from her neck.

Solana just looks at him. 

It should be unsettling to her, at least a little, how easily he maneuvers between calm and charismatic and dark and intimidating. 

But, it doesn’t.

It does a bit of the opposite.

Lord, what the hell is she getting herself into? 

—-----------

After some coaxing, additional foreplay, and the reiteration of no penetration, Solana finds herself following Roman deeper into the yacht, headed toward the bedroom. The travel there is a nice distraction, Solana continuing to marvel at the luxury of it all. She wasn’t exactly raised poor, but this level of opulence is unfamiliar. But, something she most definitely could get used to. 

It’s still up in the air if it’s something she should get used to though. 

Finally arriving, Roman closes the door behind them and walks past her. Solana's eyes never leave him, especially when he starts to unbutton his shirt, discarding it to a nearby chair. 

Her cheeks are warm and reddened watching him move onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, legs spread just enough. She’s ready to remind him of her boundaries when he motions for her with his index finger. “Come here.”

Her chest tightens. “Roman…..”

He makes a sound. “I thought I told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He did. He most certainly did. “Come here.”

Solana swallows, partially unsure why she can’t stand her ground, can’t comprehend what causes her to pull her dress up her thighs just enough so she can crawl on the bed, over to him. Her heart races even more when he grabs her, positions her between his legs, back against his firm chest. 

His lips hover against her temple. “Good girl.”

Her eyes shut, that racing heart of hers nearing dangerous territories. “Roman, wh—what—”

“Touch yourself.”

Solana’s eyes shoot open. 

What did he just say?

And, she goes to express as such, “what do you—”

He moves his hands to her dress, dragging it up higher until her black thong is exposed. “I want you to show me how you touched yourself when I left that night.”

Immediate goosebumps sprout all over her damn body, her mouth dry, her brain struggling to process all of this. “Roman….”

“Because you did, didn’t you?” His taunts are accompanied by his hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, snapping it against her skin. “You fucked yourself thinking of daddy, didn’t you?”

Solana swallows, unable to answer. Horrified at just how he knows this. How he knows she most definitely laid up in her bed, using her hand and vibrator after he left her so flustered and needing a release.

Something freezes her more when an equally terrifying and erotic thought crosses her mind. Was he watching her?

“Roman, were you—” She’s silenced by his fingers dancing along her mons pubis, continuing to taunt and tease her, eager for compliance with his task. 

“Shhh.” His lips are moving along the perimeter of her face as he travels his hand from downward to upward, palming her breast. “Too much talking.” She chews down on her bottom lip when his thumb flicks her pebbled nipple. Damn her for forgoing a bra. “Daddy’s ready to watch.”

It’s crazy. All of it. All of this. All of him. Solana should be running for the hills, should be seeing what resources she can utilize to disappear for a little while, just long enough for this infatuation he has with her to fizzle out.

But, that’s not what happens. What happens is quite the opposite. Lifting her lower half, she slides her thong down her legs, lightly tossing it on the other side of the bed, thus leaving her bare and exposed.

In more ways than one.

Almost nervously, her hand travels to that special space between her legs, a small moan leaving her mouth when she realizes just how wet she already is.

It’s not normal how aroused this man can make her with just words and light touches. 

Three fingers gliding up her vagina evoke another moan from her and an almost grunt from the man behind her. 

“Look how wet you are.” His voice is something of awe and intrigue, Solana moving her fingers back to her pussy, gathering more of her essence. “Just for me. Always for me.”

Her breath is ragged as she starts playing with herself, eyes closing, thinking back to that night. Thinking back to how good his fingers felt inside of her, working her in a way no man ever has.

Solana spreads her thighs, giving her more access to her swollen throbbing clit. “Oh, fuck….”

“That’s it,” he murmurs against her skin, slipping his hand into her dress, palming her breast. “Work yourself, baby. Show me how you take care of yourself when daddy’s not around.”

Solana’s head is thrown back against his chest as she moves her fingers from her clit, to her sticky, gushy opening. In and out, she thrusts her fingers in, all the while imagining it’s someone else touching her.  Someone else making her thrash and moan the way she is. 

And that someone else is the man behind her, the man whose name she finds herself moaning, “Roman…..”

“Hmmm.” Stll, that damn teasing voice of his, deep, baritone, and already knowing. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell Daddy what his good girl needs.”

Oh, she hates him. Hates the way her pussy flutters every time he refers to himself as daddy. How her body responds in a way that defies all logic. 

Same as her response. 

“Touch me.” It’s embarrassing how needy and wanton she sounds in this moment, the way she nearly begs him, her other hand going to his thigh. 

Solana would give anything to see whatever nonverbal response he has at this request. Something smug, no doubt. All knowing. Because there’s no way he can be surprised at such a plea with this situation they're in, how she’s finger fucking herself, leaned up against his chest, his big hands groping and feeling all on her titties. 

The erotic of it all almost calls for his participation. 

And his participation is exactly what happens.

“Oh my God,” Solana nearly jumps off the bed when Roman’s hand is over hers, his thick fingers gently moving hers to the side, the pad of his thumb hovering over her clit, two other fingers dipping inside her. “Shit, don’t stop.”

His deep voice chuckling against her nearly rocks her to her core. “Oh, I don’t plan to.”

Solana’s body moves in sync with his hand as he works her, so good, oh so good. Solana is a whimpering mess, her hand now on top of his, unable to move away, unable to do anything but sink into this all consuming hole of pleasure. “Yes. Oh my—just like that.” 

“Look how needy you are. Fucking my hand like this.” His voice is deep, primal, laden with passion and sensuality that matches hers. “Do you have any idea how I’m going to ruin you?”

Yes. Yes, she absolutely does, because he already has. Just from his hand and mouth. 

Roman’s ministrations are nearing the point of too much, Solana’s release right around the corner, something the man bringing her to heaven is clearly very privy to.

He practically growls, asking, “you gonna come all over daddy’s hand? Hmm?” 

“Yes,” she whimpers, eyes clamped shut, hand moving to his wrist, squeezing when he quickens and intensifies his actions. “God, I’m gonna—ohhh.” She’s cut off by the orgasm that wrecks her body, her drenched cunt throbbing, body jerking against him, flashing, blinding white lights against her closed lids.

And minutes later, she’s limp, slightly panting, still holding onto him, still trying to settle herself.

Never has she come as hard as the man before her makes her come. It’s….overwhelming. In all of the right ways.

“You don’t think we’re done, do you?”

It’s that question that makes her eyes shoot open. What did he just say?

But before Solana can process anything, Roman is moving them, switching around their positions, and it’s when he goes to lift her, she realizes just what position he’s putting them in.

Trepidation consumes her. “Roman, I can’t—”

“I’ve been thinking about eating you out all day,” he groans. Solana hates how easy and natural it is for him to say and admit to the most filthiest things. “Come sit on daddy’s face, so I can suck that sweet pussy.”

And that’s exactly what he’s doing, positioning her, hiking her dress up even higher, holding it scrunched at her waist. “Roman—”

“Stop talking,” he murmurs, Solana finally straddling his face, her hands gripping the headboard. Roman’s eyes are entranced by the sight of her pussy, so wet and pretty, dripping and needing him. “Come here….”

“Roman!” She gasps, when his strong hands tug her down, his mouth completely covering her, his tongue thrusted inside her tight hole. “Oh shit.” Solana’s head falls against her forearm that’s across the headboard. She’s seen this position in porn, has heard her friends talk about it, but no one told her it felt this damn good.

And maybe it’s less the position and more the man.

Roman’s moan underneath her as he eats her out, feasting on her pussy like it’s his first meal of the day, seems to lean on the side of less the position and all the man. 

There’s no concern in the world about suffocating him or too much of her weight bearing down on him when Roman’s grip on her thighs tighten as he pulls her even closer, his tongue circling around her engorged clit.

“God, it feels so good,” she moans, one hand reaching for her breast as she plays with her nipples, grinding down on his face. “Daddy….”

Roman’s groan underneath her is loud and unmistakable along with the way his left hand moves to her ass, giving a slap that echoes through the room and evokes another moan from her. 

She’s not entirely sure what stamina is required for eating pussy, at least the way Roman does, but his seems above average. Because Solana is propped up on his face so long that she feels her thighs begin to cramp and tense, resulting in her sinking down farther on him. And for a brief second, she feels bad, worries that her weight is too much. But, it’s quickly shoved to the side when he once again tugs down on her, welcoming it, welcoming and wanting her cunt to completely suffocate him.

A torture he seems to be deeply enjoying.

It takes some time, what feels like hours, hours that are filled with nothing but pleasure and ecstasy, before Solana’s orgasm overtakes her. And once again, she’s a whining, moaning, writhing mess, coming all over his face and in his mouth. It’s too much, overstimulating in every sense. So much so that it’s Roman who has to carefully lift her from off his face. He moves her down so she’s straddling his lap, her hands going to his shoulders, head in the crook of his neck as she tries to settle herself. 

And, it’s not helped by the massive bulge she feels pressing up against her ass.

Roman kisses her temple, applauding her, “such a good girl for me.” She feels it, every bit of it, even if nothing about this whole thing is good. The pleasure she’s getting out of it certainly is. “Look how you came for Daddy.”

And came she did, Solana can feel his damp beard scraping against her cheek, no doubt her essence being the cause of it. It’s better to focus on that feeling and sensation vs the strange sense of pride and accomplishment she feels at being his good girl.

It's just all so confusing.

She doesn’t know how to feel about this, about a lot of what’s happened since meeting a certain Roman Reigns. Or the way he just holds her, the way she holds onto him despite being fully descended from her orgasmic haze.

One thing’s for certain.

If Solana is in fact dancing with the devil, right now, in this moment, her only hope is that it’s a song that doesn’t end anytime soon.

[helenisaweirdo]

hatred.

oliver aiku x fem!reader, accidental pregnancy, aiku is an asshole at the beginning, reader is of age, angst to comfort, happy ending

a/n: the reason that barou is so close to reader is because reader went to the same high school as oliver did (as the soccer team manager), and in the light novel it’s canon that oliver and barou played against each other in high school. so barou and reader has met before.

———

november 2, 2018

the two lines on the small screen was like being mocked by your best friend behind your back.

you had begged, prayed, even did rituals hoping that this wouldn’t be the case. but your gut instantly dropped when the two lines made it’s way to the small screen on the stick. nonononononononono—! why? why did this have to happen to you? you placed one hand on your lower abdomen, rubbing it in circles.

you shouldn’t abort your child. they didn’t do anything wrong, and you were the one who told him about wanting to be a mother one day, after all. all those times that you had treated the small kids at his soccer games so kindly right in front of him…it was only to be expected of that he was the one to ultimately get you pregnant.

oliver aiku.

captain of the U20 team, infamous womanizer, and annoying handsome asshole. and the man who just single-handedly ruined your life.

you’re slipping off the cool metal of the white gold band on your left ring finger, throwing it onto the floor and sitting down next to it, hugging your knees and letting out choked sobs. was the darry ring just another act of purposeful hurt, too? oliver wasn’t someone to settle down for a family life, let alone get married, so was the darry ring just to earn your trust?

and your mind flashes to the night you both broke up. that snowy night, where you had slapped him straight across the face, when you had screamed at him for cheating on you with another girl. one of his ex flings that told you that they hooked up again…while he was still dating you.

but now that you think about it again, why was he so quiet that night? wouldn’t he usually try to explain himself or try to make peace between the two of you?

you shake your head, picking up the ring from the floor and staring at it once again. adorned with diamonds and my love for you, he had told you when he first gave it to you. it was all a lie, it must have been. otherwise he would have never cheated on you.

———

november 6, 2018

“i was wondering if…um…”

“yes?”

you’re staring at the woman in front of you. she’s gorgeous, you think. oliver would probably leave you for her in a heartbeat. anri teieri are the boldly written words on her name tag. “if i do this job, of you know, being the manager of blue lock and all. would it be likely that i’ll be able to see oliver aiku?”

you had deleted his contact, blocked his email, and blocked all of his social media accounts when you both broke up. you couldn’t remember any of his information, either. and oliver being oliver, he wasn’t an easy person to reach. you eventually came to the conclusion to attend online classes for your college and work at blue lock.

“well, yes, it’s practically a guarantee. he’s the captain of the U20 team, after all. but, Miss…” anri looks down at your stomach, eyebrows knitted together. “are you sure you’re in any condition to work? especially cleaning up after and cooking for teenage boys? i don’t want you to injure yourself, especially with a baby. you’re—how many months in?”

“im at 1 month. 6 weeks, to be exact. and its babies. im having twins.” you muttered. “its alright, it can help me practice cooking and cleaning for the kids. you know how children are—they’re always either making messes or hungry.” you place a hand on your abdomen. “im sure it will be alright. but thank you for your concern, anri.”

“you’re 19, 3 years younger than me…oh, you poor girl. i’ll just need you to sign some papers first and make a few phone calls with mr ego, and we’ll be set.” anri shakes your hand firmly before a soft smile graces her lips. “you’ll be an excellent mother. don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“thank you.” you smile back meekly, preparing yourself for the days of hell of taking care of sweaty teenage boys. but hey, considering how you used to be the manager of your high school boys soccer team (with oliver on it, no less), you’re probably already used to it.

———

february 26 2019

“you need me to take over cleaning for you?”

barou sits down next to you, sliding a bowl of rice of some dishes (that are beneficial for pregnant women, you notice) in front of you. “if you don’t mind.” you reply, picking up a pair of chopsticks and beginning to devour the food.

“well, i was planning on doing so anyway. it’s not good for a pregnant woman to do any work, even if you’re only on your fourth month.” barou begins to eat his own portion of rice. “i already finished all of my training for the U20 match tomorrow anyways.”

“thanks, barou.”

after a fair amount of time, you’ve only told the people at blue lock who you knew wouldn’t freak out about you pregnancy: which wasn’t much. isagi, yukimiya, kunigami, barou, kurona, hiori, and nanase. you would only tell everyone else when your stomach grew a considerable amount, enough to single-handedly show that you were pregnant.

“you must be training hard to surpass isagi. that’s amazing, barou.” you begin, taking a glance at how barou wolfs down his food. he nods from under the bowl. you notice how he’s also less…irritated with you. at least, he always tries to be. even if you make a stupid mistake or dirties certain things that were once clean, barou takes one look at your abdomen before just cleaning it again. a classic gentleman—why the hell didn’t he have a girlfriend yet?

—

you couldn’t sleep that night. you moved the mattress up, you moved the mattress down, you pulled the blankets up, you pulled the blankets down. you opened the girls, you closed the lights. and yet you still couldn’t sleep.

finally, you began rubbing your stomach in circles. “my sweeties, tomorrow you’ll finally be able to hear your dad’s voice for the first time. and if all goes well, you’ll both be able to meet him when you’re both due in august.”

after a few more kicks and hushed promises, you could finally dear your eyelids growing heavy, and you began a dreamless rest.

———

february 27 (the day of the U20 match)

you sat on the bench of the changing room for the U20 team. blue lock had already won, and for privacy, the U20 team left the changing room, leaving only you and oliver inside after some negotiations. oliver’s eyes are fixated on you, and they can’t seem to pull away.

“oliver,” you began, sighing. “im going to make this quick because i know that you’re fangirls are too impatient to wait for you for so long. im pregnant,” you ignored the way that his jaw went slack. “your kids, twins, a boy and a girl. they’re both due in august. do you want both, should i have both, should we each raise one—“

“marry me.”

now it was your turn for your jaw to go slack.

“what—? but you fucking cheated on me!”

oliver’s lips pressed into a thin line. “i’ve cheated on tens of women before, but i’ve never once cheated on you. you’re the only one that i’ll never cheat on. akamei was just a liar who wanted me to take her back, but lying to the love of my life wasn’t the best way to go about it.

“i don’t blame you if you still don’t trust me, but at least let me marry you and let me be a good father to our kids. they deserve it, and you deserve it too for staying strong for months of being a single pregnant mom.”

tears began to pool at your eyes, and your chest felt tight. “fuck, since when were you so mature, oliver?” you threw yourself into his arms, soft sniffles escaping you and onto his shoulders.

“it’s not that im mature, i just really love you.”

———

january 3, 2025

“mama, did you and daddy have a fairytale love story too?”

your daughter olivia’s words make you freeze in your steps. after once against reading her a classic lover story (Cinderella) as a nighttime story, your daughter has been obsessed with them…not a good thing.

“of course they did! just look at them now!” your son oscar from right next to her replied. you gulped before nodding shakily.

“yep…yep! goodnight, guys! i love you both!” you scurried out of the room and into your shared room with oliver, where he laid relaxed on the bed.

“you seem tense.”

“yeah, olivia just fucking asked if we had a fairytale love story, no shit.”

“we did!”

“fuck you.”

———

FIN.

[empressdede]

The Lyon’s family Christmas

Summary: You lie to your mom and tell her that you have a boyfriend to bring home and begs your best friend Jon to come with you to meet your family.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Jimmy x Y/N

A/N: Happy New Year and Happy Holidays; I am so so so so sorry that this is so late but I literally worked the entire holidays so this was the best day for me to release. I hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. Guess who’s officially back? 🙂💙

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As often as this was a reoccurring issue, Y/N don’t know why she expected the conversation to take a different direction unlike the very worn out route her and her mother usually seemed to take.

“Do you remember Trent from church? I’ve heard the younger girls were saying he’s single now, and I was thinking about inviting him to our Christmas party. I think he makes for a nice boy, don’t you?" Her mom asked over the phone. And there it was, the same damn conversation causing Y/N to roll her eyes. Thank God her mother couldn’t see her.

Her mom never knew how to stay out of her business, always going out her way to try and set her up with damn near anybody because she thought it was the most terrifying fact that her daughter was single at 30 and have been for the last three years now.

But Y/N valued her peace more than anything, and all her past relationships have not always bought her peace, just heartache. So she wanted to be very cautious her next go round because she was being very serious when she told everyone she only had one more relationship in her. She just wished her mom understood that.

Y/N let out a sigh, "Mom, I haven’t seen Trent in forever. Do NOT invite that boy over for no foolishness. Plus, he’s really not my type." Y/N expressed which caused her mother her scoff.

"And since fuckin when was Trent not your type? I thought you were trying to get with a good man Y/N?" Her mother questioned.

Exactly.

Y/N let out a huff in annoyance, she knew way more than her mom and knew that Trent was definitely not the way go. But she didn’t know want her mom to think she was trying to push at the conversation so instead of being honest, Y/N does the first thing that comes to mind.

“I didn’t wanna tell you like this but Trent ain’t my type because I have a boyfriend now Ma.”

Y/N’s POV

The silence on the phone made me more nervous, why the fuck would I just say that?

“You got a boyfriend? Since when you found a boyfriend? And why haven’t you said anything about him?” The questions were leaving her mouth like quick fire, barely giving me anytime to answer her. But I did the best I could.

“I didn’t say anything because I wanted to make sure this was something worth bringing up.”

“Mmhmm, and how long you’ve been seeing this guy?” She asked

“Five months now, but we were friends before we started dating. I’ve been trying to take it slow.”

Another beat of silence took over the phone and for a second, I thought she knew I was spewing nothing but bullshit just to get her to shut up.

“Hmm, well baby you ain’t getting no younger. Tell this man I wanna meet him, invite him to the party and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She finally replied, but her response took me aback.

“Wait- mom..”

“Great! I’ll see you guys next weekend, Love you baby.” And with a quickness, she hung up in my face.

I was left amuck, staring at the phone in disbelief because what the fuck did I just do?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In retrospect, you didn’t really have anyone to ask but him. You weren’t comfortable asking anyone else but your best friend - who has yet to meet anyone in your family, which was perfect.

Who else would’ve agreed to do this for you?

“You want me to what?” He asked, choking on the fried rice he was eating prior.

Okay, so maybe it’s going to take a little bit of convincing.

“Please Jon, you’re the only person I can ask and I feel like we’re close enough; we could definitely pull it off.” You exclaimed, a small smile on your face; trying to be as persuasive as possible.

Jon was not amused, for all he knew this was another one of your tired ass pranks that he refused to fall for.

“So you want me to lie to your mom for Christmas?” he questioned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why don’t you just tell her you’re single? I’m sure it won’t be the end of the world.”

You sigh, shoulders sinking in a bit. “She wants to set me up with some guy I haven’t seen in years. You know how I get with guys Jon and she won’t stop until she sees me with someone.”

You turn to fully face him with pleading eyes. “C’mon Jon, I already told them I have a boyfriend, who else am I supposed to ask?”

Jon watched you with careful eyes, silent as if he was thinking it over. You couldn’t help but keep your gaze hopeful as you guts sat in your living room waiting for him to respond.

You knew it was a big favor to ask but you would owe him the world if he could help you get your mom off your back.

The silence that filled the room made goosebumps litter all over your skin and the anxiety that bubbled in your stomach made you want to throw up. Just when you were going to tell him to forget it, Jon cut you off.

“Fine, I’ll go. But if we do this, we need to get our story straight.”

And just like that, the planning began, and for the rest of dinner, the two of you sat and theorized on how their fake love story came into existence:

Two friends who danced around the possibility of what could be till one night Jon stepped up and asked you to dinner and you agreed and you guys have been taking it slow from that night on.

____________________________________________

Two days after that, Jon surprised Y/N with matching pajamas for this impromptu trip.

“What kind of couple would we be without matching PJs?” Jon had asked when he dropped them off.

It made Y/N more appreciative of the effort he seemed to put into it. Of course Jon would play the perfect gentleman like boyfriend, who else would’ve did this for her?

The night before they had to drive six hours to your mother‘s house, you two agreed that Jon spend the night. This instance wasn’t anything new, Jon was your best friend and he slept over before, but something within your dynamic changed.

It was as if they were falling into the role of a loving couple for each other instead of Y/N’s family.

Jon sat on the bed watching Y/N finish applying her night cream, getting ready for bed.

“Is there anyone I should expect to give me a hard time?” Jon asked and you shook your head.

“Honestly, my mom is probably going to push you to marry me.” You joked causing Jon to chuckle.

“Well, if that’s the case, you ready to be stuck with me for life babe?”

The nickname caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“Babe?” You questioned and Jon sends you a shy smile.

“You gotta start the habit now. I can’t call you that when I get over there, what if I just randomly call you princess and you get flustered?” He slightly teased, and there was those damn butterflies again.

He was right though, they needed to fall into the role of a devoted couple because how else were they going to make everyone believe they were in love?

You playfully rolled your eyes, and respond back, “what if I call you, baby boy and you get flustered?”

At that, Jonathan laughs and shakes his head at you. “I thought you said you wanted it to be believable?”

“How is that not believable?” You questioned as you walks out of the bathroom and towards him where he sat on the bed.

You cupped Jon’s cheek and talked in a baby tone, “Who wouldn’t think you’re my baby boy?” Cooing softly in a joking manner.

Jon decided he’s had enough of your antics and stood up to tower over you. Your hand falling back to your side as you stare up at him, a small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he stared down at you.

“C’mon now, you really think anyone is going to see us and think you call me anything but Daddy?” He had lowered his tone on purpose, and just like that the playfullness was sucked out of the room.

Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice, taking note of how close you guys actually were. Why did he have to do all that?

You felt your cheeks warm up and you couldn’t be more thankful than you are now that your skin had a darker hue to it - but Jon didn’t need to see it to know that you were flustered because your silence gave it away.

His smirk grows, almost tauntingly as he stared down at you. Maybe he knew what he was doing to you or maybe he didn’t and just got a kick out of this, but you did not appreciate his little game.

“Isn’t that right princess?” Even though you knew that Jon was teasing, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your spine.

You squinted your eyes to glare at him, “You’re not funny Jonathan.” You hissed out but he only chuckled at you and shrugged his shoulders.

It was all fun and games until it was his turn.

Just to put the icing on the cake: Jon’s hand lifted up to cup your cheeks, “Say you love being daddy’s baby.” He cooed back causing you to smack your lips and slap his hand away.

Your nerves were still a little rattled as Jon doubled over in laughter.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny; you ready for bed or what? We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow and you’re driving.” You stated, walking past him for bed.

This is going to be the longest four days weekend ever.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The drive to your childhood home to Orlando FL, wasn’t so bad, three hours into it anyways.

When there was three more hours left to go, you became just a little restless, whining about how cramped your legs were starting to feel.

It went to show how much you really disliked long distant roadtrips.

“You don’t think you can wait another hour? We’re almost there.” Jon tried to negotiate but when he turned to face you and seen the pout on your lips, he let out a tired sigh and looked for the closest exit to stop at the nearest gas station.

You flashed him a cheeky smile, “Who knew you loved me so much?” You teased and he rolled his eyes letting you have this little moment because you guys had three more hours to kill and he’d rather you be in a good mood.

Another pro for stopping at the gas station is the opportunity to restock on snacks. After Jon filled up the tank, you both entered the gas station to look for whatever looked good enough to replenish you guys for the rest of the trip.

You both split ways to look for your favorite road trip snacks: Honey flavored chex mix, gummy worms and sunflower seeds since it was Jon’s preference.

Humming along to the Christmas song playing in the store, you went looking for Jon. Your eyes skimming through the isle looking for the tall idiot until your eyes fall on two figures: a girl laughing and holding herself up on Jon’s arm.

You raised an eyebrow at the scene, the feeling of annoyance swirled around in your stomach.

What the fuck was he doing?

You watched as the girl flash him another smile while fluttering her lashes in a flirting manner, and you couldn’t stop the scoff that left your lips. Your eyes squinted into a glare before an idea flashed in your mind.

It barely fully registered in your mind before you found yourself walking towards the two with the fakest smile on your face, “Babe did you find us some drinks?”

Jon turned to face you, a small smirk on his face cause he had watched you walk up to him.

The jealousy that burned in your eyes was very amusing and very apparent for him to see. If he didn’t know you well enough - he would’ve pushed his limit just a bit to see how far he could take it.

But knowing that they had three hours to kill before reaching Orlando, he’d rather not be in the car with an irritated Y/N, no matter how amusing it was to him.

Little did he know it was a little too late for that.

“Uh.. No, sorry babe. But we could go get it together.” He replied, and without bidding the girl goodbye, he locked arms with you to walk you towards the refrigerated section.

The girl watched with a frown on her face, as you guys walked away from her, and you couldn’t help but turn around to flash her a quick smile - almost taunting her before returning to face Jonathan, with the meanest glare, you could muster.

“I could’ve stayed in the car if you were going to be hot and fresh chasing hoes.” You gritted out once you were out of earshot.

Jon just chuckled softly, shaking his head at you while looking for your favorite drink. “She was just being nice.”

You roll your eyes again, “I’d rather you not insult my intelligence Jon.”

The frown was prominent on your face, and Jon couldn’t help the small smile that seemed almost glued to his face. You were cute he could definitely give you that.

A small chuckle emitted from him again as he walks closer to you to pull you into a hug. “You’re absolutely right princess, Daddy’s sorry.” He cooed, causing you to tense in his arms.

“Jon.” You grit out in a warning tone but he completely disregarded you. He lifted his left hand to tilt your head up to face him, and suddenly the air shifted between the two of you like it did back at your house.

“Jon.” You whispered out this time and he still chose to ignore you, his eyes flickering to your lips instead causing your breath to hitch.

“Jonathan.” You repeated, almost pleading with him and his eyes slowly traced up your face to lock eyes with you.

“You forgive me?” He rasps out; goosebumps littered all over your skin at the deepness of his voice.

“Y/N,” He muttered and you hummed to let him know you heard him. “Do. You. Forgive. Me?”

What in the world were you mad about again?

“Yeah.” You breathed out, hoping Jon with snap out of it, but he still didn’t let go of your chin.

“Good.” Was the only thing he stated before closing the gap between you guys. His lips pressed against yours and just for a second you both forget that this was supposed to be an act.

The butterflies that erupted in both of your stomach’s made the moment even more real for you guys. Your lips locked in a slow kiss, Jon’s hand slid down from your chin to grip behind your neck to keep you in place in deepen the kiss, just a little.

Your heartbeat filled your eardrums as blood rushed to your cheeks. When Jon finally pulled away, he seen how flushed you were, despite your darker skin tone.

He flashed you a small smile, “Was that okay?”

You nodded your head to assure him that it was more than okay. After the two of you finished up buying your snacks, you got in the car with childish grins and giggles slipping through your lips, both of you now in a way better mood than you were not less than 10 minutes ago.

You couldn’t help but secretly thank your mom for the invite to your family Christmas party because you don’t think you would’ve been here otherwise; and even though you’re pretty sure there is a conversation that needs to be had, maybe there was something to finally look forward to this holiday season.

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Lmao this was lowkey eh, but I did my bestest😭🫶🏾 Thank you to those who like and read it!

As always please, like, comment and reblog if you feel like and lemme know how you feel.

Tagging the lovelies: @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @blacst4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00

(If you would like to be added to my official taglist please comment and I will add you, and if you want to be removed, please let me know🤍)

[blueberrywrites]

Happy New Years .ᐟ ♡ ❪ Sylus × Reader ❫

ⓘ Warnings ⓘ : None — General Audience.

Synopsis: Sylus was never one to socialise outside of work or tactic matters, but under the inspection of Y/N's best friends, the Almighty Tara and the Great Caleb, he somehow feels like he just met the parent-in-laws.

Genre: 「 #Romance 」 「 #Fluff 」 「 #Found Family」

Notes: Female reader · she/her pronouns. Tara has been changed to y/n's, Caleb's, and Zayne's childhood + (best) friend, and they call each other siblings. Please note this is not true information in the canon events, as none of them are related to each other.

Tags: @eiuuui so far, thank you very much for showing interest!

"SYLUS, hurry up! We are going to be late!"

"I'll have to remind you that I am never late."

"Shut it! It's your fault, look at this mess!"

"Personally, I think I look quite dashing, regardless."

Y/N scowled up at his smug little smirk, swatting his chest rather harshly in reprimand. She tried to save his suit by gliding her fingers over the absurd amount of fabric wrinkles, straightening his coat as carefully as she could.

"I can't believe this, it's like I'm dating a three years old," she muttered under her breath, making Sylus swallow down a laugh at her adorable grumbling.

His girlfriend wasn't usually a overly fussy person, but tonight was a exception. Not only was it New Years, but it was also Tara's birthday. She wanted to be there early and leave as late as possible. Problem was, the leader of Onychinus got into some trouble himself with some petty burglars, and her so carefully put-together outfit she made him wear was not in the best conditions.

"If anyone asks me at this point, I don't know you."

This time, Sylus really did laugh, wrapping a arm around her waist, his touch warm and tender against her backside. She narrowed her eyes up at him, knowing exactly what he is trying to do the moment he brought her closer and into his embrace.

"Your dear Tara would be disappointed, she was excited to see your plus one, no?... We don't want to upset her on her birthday," he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, before his thumb and index finger trailed down to cup her chin, tilting her head up.

Wow, now that was unfair.

"Um... first of, let me go," Y/N poked his nose, "second, we are going to upset her by being late. Clean up your shoes and let's go!" she gave him a wet towel, turning around to finish some last minute preparations.

Sylus sighed, very reluctant to release her but nevertheless heed her order. He glanced down at his shoes, crouching down to wipe off some bloody remnants. Thankfully, his formal oxford shoes came in black.

"I'm nervous," Y/N suddenly spoke, waiting for him to finish. She, of course, was dolled up with a black terra woolen vintage dress that he bought only for her, and dark winter pantyhose paired with black heels. His eyes softened as he watched her playing with the material, a pleasant little smile on her lips.

He knew she didn't get many chances to dress up, often having insecurities about not being and not feeling pretty. So the silver-haired man took quiet pleasure at seeing her so content.

He'll share all his treasure gold with her, if he gets to see her insecurities crumbling away.

"Why is that, sweetie?"

She shrugged, glossed lips tilting up to a sheepish smile. "Tara, Caleb, Zayne... you know they're like my family, right?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, feeling his eyes narrowing at the memory of a tall dark haired doctor and the way he was looking at her. "I'm aware."

"So... you're meeting them for the first time... as my boyfriend," she shrugged. "You don't think it's a bit... soon?"

He paused, looking at her blankly.

She glanced at him, apprehensive.

He looked at her.

And she looked at him back.

Oh.

Sylus came to an abrupt realisation, feeling his face paling.

I'm meeting my in-laws.

"So you are the infamous Sylus, huh?" Tara looked up at him, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg. She was a tiny thing to Sylus perspective, looking like a irritated hamster more than anything else.

"Coming so late to dinner, aren't you ashamed?" Caleb mimicked her actions, though his glare was much more prominent, and though he was around the same height and build as Sylus, it didn't erase his youthful features the least.

"Caleb." Y/N warned him, shoulders squaring up.

"My apologies," Sylus apologised smoothly, wrapping a arm around Y/N's back, making sure it was in a appropriate distance from her behind. The effect was instantaneous, for his little kitten immediately relaxed at his touch. "I'm afraid we got stuck in a traffic because of me."

"Oh?" Tara raised an eyebrow. "Because of you?"

"I forgot to change the car tires for the current snowy weather," he patted Y/N's head, making her purse her lips at his lies. Not because she didn't approve, everything to get out of her best friends' scrutiny really, but because she didn't want to laugh. There was a elephant in the room that was waiting to be addressed. "Thankfully, Y/N reminded me the moment she noticed it."

"You're rather reckless," Caleb huffed.

Sylus smiled, this time in both amusement and sincerity. "Your friend hasn't let me forget that, either."

Tara and Caleb glanced at Y/N, and the three of them had a strange stare off that Sylus wasn't privy to.

Honestly, he was almost offended.

Finally, Tara turned away from them both and rolled her eyes, grinning up at him energetically. "Well, it seems like we are going to spend New Years together! Welcome to my home!"

"A pleasure to be here," he nodded, and when a sharp jolt tugged his wrist, he glanced at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N looked beyond irritated, something that activated alarms on his head. His eyes narrowed, looking at Caleb with a red flash of warning.

The boy had the decency to look regretful, at least.

"Excuse us for a bit, we'll be at the veranda."

Y/N exhaled a sigh of relief as he tagged her closer, escorting them out from the tense atmosphere.

"What is wrong with you?!" They heard Tara hissing, before a clap sounded from their direction, most likely from her hand hitting the back of Caleb's head.

Y/N sighed, but chuckled softly, her heart warming knowing her true friend was on her side at least. She knew Caleb was rather cautious as a fighter pilot, at the Deepspace Aviation Administration in Skyhaven at that, but the fact that he couldn't even be at least polite to her boyfriend was a dealbreaker.

"I haven't ruined your new years, have I?" Sylus broke the companiable silence, looking down at her with a soft red gaze.

"Of course not," Y/N reassured him, leaning her head on his bicep, their eyes tracking the slow fall of the snowflakes to the white ground. "Caleb and Zayne are being difficult, that's all."

He hummed. "I understand why Zayne didn't come, it's honestly for the best and if anything, I do not hold it against him."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He smirked down at her. "Men talk too, sweetie."

She pouted, wrapping her arms around him, her chin resting comfortably on his chest. "I didn't know you and him were buddy-buddies."

"We are not," he was quick to refuse, as if the mere thought of it was repulsive. "We have just come to an understanding."

"An understanding?"

"As men." he nodded.

"As men," she mocked, jabbing her index finger at his side, making him gasp. "Does he have a new years date?!" Y/N became excited, she always wanted to see Zayne in a relationship, but the man was always so busy with his hospital work.

Sylus glared at her, clasping her hand on his firmly, his smirk widening on his lips. "I find it funny, how excited you seem to see if another man brought some-"

"Shh!" she shushed him, having the audacity to look annoyed as she placed her finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't even start with the whole jealousy thing. He's one of my best friends, I just want him to be happy."

Sylus couldn't help it, he kissed her finger gently, before nibbling on the skin with a content sigh, his hands traveling down her arms to tag her closer, relishing the gasp that escaped from her pretty mouth.

"Does he know that. hm?" His fingers danced over her shoulders, touch featherlike, testing her own resolve.

"Yes," Y/N said firmly. "Don't enunciate otherwise. We are good friends to each other. You should try being one too."

Sylus chuckled, his entire being dripping with amusement. "Oh, I'm an excellent friend," he leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "Especially for you, kitten."

Y/N closed her eyes, eyebrows furrowing in slight contempt. "I don't like it when you get like this."

His head dipped even closer than before, their nose almost brushing against each other. "What? Jealous?" He chuckled. "You are mine, after all, and I become nothing but just a man when it comes to you." He tilted his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the soft skin of her cheek. "Besides... I know you like me like this."

She felt her face warming up, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. "You're incorrigible, and insane, and you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of," she reached out to cup his face lovingly, brushing her thumb over the flushed apple of his cheek. "The one I adore is you."

And that was all he needed to hear for his being to relax. His crimson eyes softened, glistening softly under the christimas lights. His breath hitched on his throat, lips darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. He chuckled lowly, leaning to her touch, nuzzling to her warm hand. He could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest, tightening almost painfully.

So that's what it feels like, loving someone unconditionally.

"Bad kitten," he breathed out, closing his eyes as he inhaled that sweet scent of yours from inside your wrist. "You always know how to push my buttons."

Y/N felt her own heart skip a beat, and she couldn't help herself when she stepped even closer to him, tilting his head towards her. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his chin, reveling the sound of his small and almost quiet surprised gasp. She wrapped her arms around him and jumped up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

She almost giggled at how lovestruck he looked, but she knows she mustn't look much different either.

Sylus sighed, a loving smile appearing on his face as he leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips with his own. He stayed right then and there, relishing the feeling of the soft plump skin, of the way her sighs spurred him on even more, and the way she cradled his head in her hands, as if he was her most precious treasure.

Sylus never felt more loved before.

It was a foreign feeling, before she came waltzing into his life like a thunderstorm.

"Alright guys, only one minute left!" Tara banged on the door, knowing very well to not go into places where couples reside. She learned her lesson back in the hospital, when she visited Dr. Greyson. Zayne walking in on them should be a picture posted in history books.

Y/N sighed, parting away from him slowly, almost reluctantly. Sylus wasn't done with her though, for his head dipped down to leave a trail of fire down her neck, making her hum in pleasure.

"Come on, my big bad wolf, we're going to miss the fireworks," she huffed out a laugh, taking a step back and grasping his hand, tugging him towards the other side of the house.

"10!"

If someone told her she would be dating the leader of a criminal organisation a year ago, she would have laughed right in their face.

"9!"

If someone told him he would fall in love with a hunter, the very people who chase after him to put him behind bars, he would have called you delusional.

"8!"

Yet they were here.

"7!"

Bound by duty, like a contract at first, trying to outplan one another. Hating each other guts.

"6!"

Yet they still fell in love, somewhere in the way.

"5!"

They don't know when it happened, maybe it was that cold november night, not even a month after they met.

"4!"

Maybe it was when they first kissed. Or was it when they almost lost each other at the hands of death?

"3!"

"Sylus?"

"2!"

"Hm?"

"1!"

"I love you, darling."

"Happy New Year!"

She saw the way his lips parted, before a brilliant smile graced his features. He was gentle, and tender, and warm and loving. It made fall in love with him all over again. It made her mad, almost obsessed.

"I love you too, my love," he whispered in her ear, placing a loving kiss on the side of her forehead, eyebrows furrowing in subtle longing.

Y/N sighed, and fell into his warm embrace.

A/N: I hope you guys like this new years special! I loved tapping into Sylus jealousy, because I don't find him as someone who will easily get jealous like Xavier, but he can definitely feel it as subtle as it was. Plus, I think out of all the LI's, he would probably be more alert about Zayne, especially considering his history with us.

Happy new years, Sylus girlies!

── ❀˖°🫐₊ ⊹ blueberry ᡣ𐭩

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 . . . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . academic rivals, enemies to lovers, fake dating, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the library was quiet, sounds of faint footsteps and soft whispering filled the room. and then there was you, frantically flipping through the pages of your notebook in distress as you examined your notes, your eyes quickly scanning over them. you couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true. you got a 65 on your latest exam, bringing your overall grade down tremendously. it was absolutely atrocious. you were trying to figure out where you went wrong, your professor wouldn’t even let you retake the exam either. this was your lowest mark for the semester, and you felt a sense of disappointment in yourself. maybe you didn’t study enough, maybe you weren’t thinking hard enough, maybe—

your thoughts of paranoia were immediately cut off by your phone alarm going off to signal that it was time for your next class, echoing throughout the library. “shit.” you cursed under your breath, quickly shutting it off. you apologetically smiled at the librarian as she gave you a look of warning.

what a bitch. you thought to yourself.

you scrambled your books together, shoving them into your bag messily before storming out of the library. you were so done, you were experiencing your academic downfall, something you never thought you’d say in your life. you were a perfectionist after all, you always strived to go above and beyond on every assignment. you had one of the highest gpa’s out of all the freshman in the university, but that was quickly changing, for the worst. you walked into your next lecture a few minutes late, your mind jumbled and foggy as you sat down next to your best friend, stacy. she looked at you in a concerned and puzzled manner as you sat down, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“you’re late? that’s a first.” stacy joked, nudging your elbow as you opened one of your textbooks to get caught up with what you had missed so far. you simply just rolled your eyes. “i don’t wanna talk about it, stace.” you sighed heavily. she furrowed her eyebrows.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?” stacy asked you, whispering so the professor couldn’t hear. you bit your lip, resting your elbows against your desk. “i’m completely flunking every assignment, my grades are horrible.” you confessed, stacy nodded. “if it makes you feel better, everyone kinda did bad on the exam. well, besides chris.” stacy told you, which didn’t make you feel any better at all.

christopher sturniolo, the person you envied the most. as much as you hated to admit it, he was the smartest person you knew. he got solid 100’s on every test, he was absolutely determined to get a higher mark than you. usually, you’d both get the same grade, or you’d tease him if you got a higher grade than him, vice versa.

chris was one of your family friends. both of your mom’s were best friends, so that meant you had to see him often. you had a close relationship with nick and matt, but you and chris never really clicked. you had known the triplets since 2nd grade, which was when the academic rivalry between you and chris sparked, all because of a stupid spelling bee in elementary school.

chris sat in the very front of the room, taking notes and listening to the professor speak. his shoulders were up in confidence, and so was his ego. he thought he was better than everyone, especially you. you scoffed, you didn’t have to energy to interact with him today, especially after what you got on the exam. if chris knew you had failed, he’d make it his life goal to tease you about it. and you weren’t in the mood.

after around 45 minutes of zoning out, the lecture finally ended. thank goodness, you had a free period for your next class. you and stacy got up, grabbing your bags so you could walk together to your next period. you glanced over at chris, as he talked with his friends. you rolled your eyes, deciding to not worry about him right now. you were about to head out, until the professor called your name.

“y/n, could i have a word with you before you leave?” the professor asked. you looked at stacy, telling her to go on without you as you walked over to your professor’s desk, not batting chris an eye as he walked out of the room. “what’s up?” you smiled, but on the inside your stomach churned out anxiety as you waited for what he had to say.

“i’m concerned about you, y/n. you’ve failed the last exam, your grades took a major dip, which is unlike you. is there something going on?” the professor questioned you, looking up at you as he sat at his desk. you cleared you throat awkwardly, beginning to speak.

“i—uh. i appreciate your concern, but i’m completely fine. i’m just…a bit tired. i promise i’ll get my grade up.” you were lying through your teeth as you explained to him. you felt hopeless, unmotivated and dumb. this had never happened to you before. “alright, good. take care of yourself, y/n. you’re dismissed.” he spoke firmly. you thanked him, walking out of the classroom, feeling a pit in your heart. you wanted to cry so badly, you wanted the day to just be over already. you felt like such a failure.

as you walked through the packed hallways of boston university, you felt someone grab your arm. you gasped as they covered your mouth, dragging you into the storage closet, thrashing in their grip slightly. the mysterious person practically threw you inside, shutting and locking the door behind them. you rubbed your eyes, spinning around to see who it was.

chris. of course.

“what the fuck, chris? you just kidnapped me in broad daylight!” you raised your voice at him. he scoffed, adjusting the cap on his head. “i didn’t kidnap you, doll. i simply just brought you into this closet.” chris explained, his sarcastic tone filling the room. “what do you want, chris?” you sighed heavily.

chris hesitated for a moment before speaking. “i have a favor to ask you.” chris’s voice sounded hopeful almost. you gave chris a puzzled look, he was asking you for help? out of all people, you? you could’ve sworn you were the last person he’d go to if he needed something. “are you feeling okay?” you giggled slightly, chris rolled his eyes at you. “i don’t need your sarcasm right now, i need you to listen to me.” chris had a slightly pleading tone to his voice, you immediately went quiet, curious as to what he had to say.

“victoria broke up with me.” chris confessed, your eyes widened. victoria and chris had been dating since junior year, you were shocked. they were the couple of your high school. it made sense though, chris was in college now, he barely had time for her anymore. “oh.” you simply said, chris raised an eyebrow at you. “oh?” he repeated, expecting you to have more to say, expecting you to bully him about it or something.

“what does that have to do with me?” you tilted your head as you gave chris a questioned look. he sighed before speaking again. “i want you to help me make her jealous. like, i don’t know. pretend we’re dating? she’s been goin’ around and fucking with other guys to try and make me jealous, so i want to give her a taste of her own medicine, y’know?” chris suggested. you scoffed in disbelief at the idea.

“what!? no way in hell am i doing that, chris. you plan on getting back at victoria by asking me to pretend we’re dating? that’s the stupidest idea ever. you’re a straight A student, you should have a better idea.” you scolded him. you immediately turned down his idea, there was no way you were going agree.

“oh come on! is it that hard for you to pretend you like me?” chris tried convincing you once more. “i said no, chris.” your voice grew quieter. chris cursed under his breath, the small and cramped closet was filled with silence. that was, until chris came up with another idea.

“what if i gave you something in return? what if we made a deal?” chris offered, you looked up from the floor and met his eyes agaim, intrigued on what he was going to say. “like what?” you asked, a hint of annoyance still present in your tone.

“you’re failing your exams, your grades are shit. i could help you study and start passing again, but only if you help me. i mean, think about it. you’re kind of a dumbass, you need the help of an intelligent man like me.” chris winked as he praised himself, you could tell he tried not to insult you in his proposal, but miserably failed.

he was right, you really did need help getting your grades up. after all, you were getting the opportunity to get help from chris, which was huge, considering how perfect his grades were. you were honestly a little surprised he was even offering to help you out in the first place, but, you had to return the favor by helping him too. “deal.” you abruptly said after thinking for a moment, taking chris aback. “wait, what?” he asked, not expecting you to agree.

“did i stutter, sturniolo? i said we have a deal.” you crossed your arms, watching the smile slowly spread on chris’s lips. he extended his hand out for you to take. “then we have a deal.” he confirmed. you took his hand, shaking it firmly before letting go.

you were given the deal of a lifetime after all, but at what cost?

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[lilmisssona]

☃︎♡Dynamic And Vibing ☃︎♡

☃︎♡Pairing - Hyunjin × Fem Reader

☃︎♡Plot - You always thought only women got nervous meeting their boyfriend's family, but your boyfriend proves otherwise. He’s adorably stressed about finding the perfect outfit for Christmas dinner, and a shopping trip leads him to a sparkling pair of iconic boots. Little did you know, those boots would be the start of some unexpected holiday drama

☃︎♡Genre - Comedy, Crackhead Energy, Fluff

☃︎♡Warnings - crackhead energy, non idol au, strangers to lovers au, established relationship, comedy, fluffy ,dramatic

☃︎♡Word Count - 8.7K ☃︎♡ Screenshot Count - 1

☃︎♡A/N - Belated Happy New Year! Episode 4 of Staymas is here, and it's all about Hyunjin + chaotic family drama with a side of the sweetest fluff so buckle up! This is just slightly proofread so apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️

☃︎♡SKZ Masterlist ☃︎♡ Staymas Masterlist

Chuseok at your parents’ house was always a beautiful chaos: comforting, loud, and brimming with life. It was everything you’d missed while studying abroad. For two years, you’d spent the holiday alone in a foreign city, attempting to recreate the flavors of home with store-bought tteok and shaky video calls with your family. But now, finally back in Seoul, the world felt familiar again, as if the missing pieces had finally clicked into place.

The past year had been a whirlwind....finishing your degree, landing a great job, and, most unexpectedly, meeting Hyunjin.

He wasn’t just an artist; he was the artist. The kind of guy who wore paint-streaked hoodies like they were high fashion and could make you laugh until you cried over his “accidental masterpiece” of spilling glitter on his sneakers. Hyunjin had an extraordinary gift for turning the ordinary into unforgettable moments, though most of those moments came with a dose of mild disaster.

But this Chuseok, Hyunjin wasn’t with you. He was neck-deep in preparations for a massive art festival, surviving on caffeine and two hours of sleep a night. Lately, your time together had been reduced to rushed coffee dates and late-night video calls.

“I promise I’ll be there next year,” he had said during one of those calls, holding a paintbrush like he was making a solemn vow. “But this festival…”

“I know,” you had reassured him, even as you wished for his presence now more than ever.

“Gotta go!” he’d added abruptly. “I need to channel my soul into these paintings, babe!”

You’d rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but deep down, you missed him - the chaos, the charm, the electric energy he brought into your life. Being home for Chuseok after two years felt monumental, but you couldn’t shake the wish that he could experience it with you.

Your family? They would’ve either fallen in love with him or been completely bewildered. Probably both.

---------------------------------------------------------

The chaos hit you the moment you stepped through the door of your parents’ house. Your mom’s voice greeted you before her eyes did.

“Close the door before all the heat escapes!” she scolded, not even looking up as she deftly flipped jeon and rolled mandu in the kitchen. The dining table was a vibrant mess of ingredients: bowls of sesame oil, chopped scallions, and a pile of persimmons waiting to be transformed into something beautiful. On the stove, galbijjim simmered away, its rich, savory aroma filling the house.

Your dad was at the table, valiantly attempting to fold rice cakes into their traditional half-moon shapes. As always, his songpyeon were hilariously lopsided, with sweet sesame filling threatening to spill from every edge.

“I think they look artistic,” he said, raising an eyebrow at your mom, who shot him her signature look of disapproval.

You smiled, imagining Hyunjin in this setting. He’d definitely find some poetic beauty in your dad’s uneven creations and probably call them “symbolic of imperfect perfection.”

“These songpyeon look like they need a rescue team,” your brother teased from his corner of the kitchen, where he was supposed to be grilling sweet potatoes. Instead, his phone was firmly in hand while the sweet potatoes burned, their charred skins proof of his negligence.

And then there was your grandmother, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, beaming as soon as her eyes landed on you. “Ah, my big-city granddaughter is back!” she exclaimed, patting the floor beside her. “Do they celebrate Chuseok over there?”

“They have Thanksgiving, Halmeoni. It’s… different,” you said, settling down next to her.

“Thanksgiving?” she repeated, her voice dripping with playful skepticism. “Do they have songpyeon?”

“Nope. That’s why I’m back here.”

“Well, come on, you haven’t forgotten how to shape songpyeon, have you?” she asked, handing you a ball of rice dough.

“I think I have,” you admitted sheepishly, eyeing the tray of perfectly crafted rice cakes.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a wink. “You’ve got me to teach you before you run off again.”

But Halmeoni wasn’t one to sit still for long. Before anyone could stop her, she was up on her feet, a piece of jeon in one hand and a fork in the other. “You don’t get legs like these by sitting around!” she declared, twirling across the room with a flair that belied her years.

Her laughter echoed through the house, and soon you were all joining in, your cheeks sore from smiling.

The house was alive with everything you’d missed - the clatter of pots, the hum of overlapping conversations, your mom’s occasional scolding, and the playful bickering between your brother and dad. After being away for so long, you’d almost forgotten how full, how warm, a home could feel during Chuseok.

---------------------------------------------------------

Later, as you helped your mom set the dishes, you couldn’t help but think of Hyunjin. He would’ve turned the whole process into a comedy sketch, complete with exaggerated groans and theatrical hand gestures. You could almost hear him whining, “Why do mine look like deflated dumplings?” as he somehow managed to get sesame filling smeared all over his face.

At dinner, the table overflowed with every Chuseok dish you’d dreamed about while abroad. Your mom didn’t hold back, piling your plate high with galbijjim, japchae, and perfectly steamed songpyeon.

“Eat, eat,” she urged, watching you with that particular kind of satisfaction only a mother can feel.

“Mom, I can’t eat all of this,” you protested, though you knew you’d try anyway.

“You’ve been living on convenience store food for years. You need to eat properly now,” she said, her tone playful but her eyes filled with concern.

As the meal went on, the chatter and laughter filled the room, with everyone reminiscing about old times and grilling you about your life abroad.

Your brother, his devilish grin fully intact, suddenly decided to strike. “No boyfriend again this year? Does he even exist, or did you make him up?”

“What’s his name again?” your mom asked, peering at you over her glasses.

“Hyunjin,” you replied with a sigh, already exasperated.

“He’s real, bro, by the way,” you added, flicking your brother’s forehead in mock annoyance. “He’s just busy with an art festival.”

“Oh, an artist!” Grandma exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Does he paint bowls of fruit or naked ladies?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Neither, Halmeoni. He’s more… abstract.”

“Abstract? Like splatters of paint on a canvas and calling it deep?” she asked, unimpressed, raising an eyebrow.

“More like…” You hesitated, recalling the time Hyunjin had proudly shown you a painting and described it as “a metaphor for a squirrel discovering capitalism.” Clearing your throat, you finished, “…Yeah, let’s go with that.”

At that moment, your dad set down his chopsticks, his posture shifting into something thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair with the kind of slow deliberation that meant he was about to drop some classic dad-level wisdom.

“This artist boyfriend of yours,” he began, voice low and serious, “does he know how to hold chopsticks properly?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yes?”

“Good,” your dad said with a solemn nod, as if he’d just concluded a critical evaluation. “Then I want to meet him. Christmas dinner. Bring him over.”

The entire table went silent.

“Wait, what?” you stammered, your heart rate spiking. Was this a heart attack or just sheer panic?

Your brother perked up instantly, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Oh, this is going to be so good,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Why Christmas?” you asked, your voice rising with desperation.

“Because,” your dad replied matter-of-factly, “I need to see if this ‘artist’ is worthy of my daughter. And Christmas feels right. Festive, but serious.”

“Festive, but serious?” you repeated, incredulous.

“Oh, this is a classic move,” your brother chimed in, clearly savoring your discomfort. “Dad’s going to ask him all the hard-hitting questions. Like, ‘What are your future plans?’ and ‘Do you plan on starving for your art or earning a real income?’”

Your dad shot him a sharp look. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“But you thought it,” your brother teased, not missing a beat.

“Dad,” you began, struggling to keep calm, “Hyunjin is not… he’s not just some random guy. He’s—”

“Exactly,” your dad interrupted. “He’s not some random guy. He’s someone important to you, which means I need to make sure he’s… let’s say, ‘qualified.’”

“Qualified? For what?!”

“For you,” your dad said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your grandma, still contentedly munching on songpyeon, decided it was her turn to chime in. “Oh, don’t scare the poor boy too much. Artists are sensitive, you know. One wrong word, and they’ll write a tragic poem about it.”

“Or paint a metaphor about a squirrel’s heartbreak,” your brother added, snickering.

You groaned, slapping your palm against your face. “He’s never going to agree to this.”

“Oh, he’ll agree,” your dad said confidently, like he’d already won. “If he cares about you, he’ll show up. And don’t worry, I’ll be nice. At first.”

“Dad,” you warned, your voice a mix of disbelief and dread.

“What?” he said innocently, blinking at you. “I just want to get to know the man who might steal my daughter away someday.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, Dad.”

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “If he can’t handle me, how’s he going to handle the rest of this family?”

Your grandma chuckled knowingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll back him up. Unless he says something stupid.”

“Like what?” you asked, your frustration mounting.

“Oh, you know,” she said airily, waving her hand. “If he starts talking about ‘artistic expression’ and goes on about how it reflects the struggles of the modern soul.”

“That actually sounds like something Hyunjin might say,” you muttered under your breath.

----------------------------------------------------------

The conversation shifted to dessert, but the looming prospect of Hyunjin’s impending “interview” with your dad hung over the room like a storm cloud. Naturally, your brother, ever the instigator, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

“You know, Dad,” he began, leaning back in his chair with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire Cat’s, “you should start with something dramatic. Like, ‘What are your intentions with my daughter?’”

“Good idea,” your dad replied, stroking his chin as though preparing for a high-stakes interrogation.

You shot them both a withering glare. “This isn’t the 1800s. He’s not proposing with a cow and a handshake.”

“Well, he’d better not come empty-handed,” your mom chimed in, her tone light but firm. “A nice bottle of wine or a fruit basket would do. Something thoughtful.”

“Fruit basket?” your brother echoed, practically doubling over in laughter. “What is he, visiting a hospital?”

Your grandma, completely ignoring him, nodded sagely. “Yes, a fruit basket is good. Grapes show generosity, and apples mean good health.” She paused, then added with utmost seriousness, “But if he brings bananas, I’ll have questions.”

“Halmeoni!” you gasped, nearly choking on your water as your brother descended into uncontrollable laughter.

“What? They’re too casual!” she said, completely unfazed. “Bananas say, ‘I remembered this on the way over.’”

Your dad tapped his chopsticks on the table, like a judge calling for order in court. “Let’s focus here. This young man...Hyunjin, right?—he’s an artist. So, I need to know…” He trailed off dramatically.

“…Know what?” you asked, your patience thinning.

“If he paints with his heart or just his hands.”

“Are you serious?” you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Absolutely,” he replied, deadpan. “And if he paints with glitter, we’re going to have a long talk.”

“Why?” your brother asked, barely containing his amusement.

“Because,” your dad said with a grim finality, “glitter is the devil’s confetti. Once it’s in the house, it’s everywhere.”

You slapped a hand to your face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Oh, it’s going to get better,” your brother teased, practically bouncing with glee. “Dad should ask him about his five-year plan. You know, see if he’s planning to be a tortured artist or someone who can actually pay for a date.”

“I pay for dates, thank you very much!” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Good,” your dad said with a nod of approval. “That means you’ve got a backup plan.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”

“No, no,” your mom said soothingly, patting your shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Just tell him not to take your dad’s poker face too seriously.”

“My poker face?” your dad echoed, visibly offended. “I don’t have a poker face!”

“Yes, you do,” your mom, grandma, and brother said in unison.

Your dad huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But I’ll keep it light.”

“Define ‘light,’” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

“I’ll just ask him simple things. Like, does he prefer oil paints or acrylics? Does he have any famous artist friends? And why is he dating my daughter instead of focusing on his career?”

“Dad!”

Your grandma waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t scare him too much. Artists are resilient. They’re like weeds...they’ll grow anywhere.”

Your brother cackled, adding, “Or like glitter. Impossible to get rid of.”

Your dad raised a finger triumphantly. “Exactly. And we’ll see if he’s the kind of glitter we want sticking around.”

That night, as you slipped into your room, still chuckling at your family’s antics, the evening felt like a scene from a sitcom. Your dad’s mock-interrogation plans for Hyunjin, your grandma’s deadpan commentary about “sensitive artists,” and your brother’s relentless teasing played on a loop in your mind.

Beneath the laughter, though, your thoughts wandered to the day you first met Hyunjin.....

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been months ago, during a wedding planning consultation. Your client, overwhelmed by the details, had sent a friend to meet you instead. “Don’t worry, they know everything,” your client had reassured you. “Hyunjin’s a good friend. You’ll be fine.”

You’d arrived at the café expecting someone serious, maybe a bit frazzled but focused. Instead, Hyunjin walked in like he was auditioning for a rom-com. Confidence radiated off him...until he tripped over the rug and went sprawling across the floor in a spectacularly ungraceful tumble.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react, staring as he scrambled to right himself. Then he looked up, grinning, and waved as though this were all part of his plan. “Hi! I’m Hyunjin,” he said cheerfully, as if he hadn’t just wiped out. “I’m here to meet the wedding planner?”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “That was… an entrance.”

Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. “I like to keep things interesting,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But don’t worry...I’m all business now.”

“Business, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally,” he said, sitting down and immediately knocking over a sugar packet with his elbow. “The bride sent me. They’re handling the important stuff...catering, keeping Aunt Jeon from overdrinking, you know ? The essentials. I’m here to make sure the wedding’s a masterpiece.”

You stifled a laugh. “A masterpiece? Are you a wedding planner or…?”

“Artist,” he said, leaning back with a dramatic flair. “I paint, sculpt, create installations...basically, I make a mess and call it art.”

“An artist?” you repeated, surprised. “Then how did you end up here, planning a wedding?”

Hyunjin waved a hand as if it were no big deal. “The bride’s my friend. They needed someone with vision, and who better than an artistic genius? I don’t know anything about weddings, but I’m great at making things beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So… you’re suggesting we turn a wedding into an art exhibit?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “Like, why have a boring tiered cake when you could have an abstract sculpture? A cake that’s a statement piece!”

“An avant-garde wedding cake?” you teased.

“Why not?” he replied, completely serious. “It’s not just dessert; it’s a metaphor. And seating? Who needs assigned seats? Let people pick where they feel inspired...it’s freedom, an artistic rebellion!”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “You’re really leaning into this chaos, huh?”

“Chaos is just art waiting to happen,” he said with a wink.

The rest of the meeting was a whirlwind of wild ideas, each one more absurd than the last. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but enjoy his infectious energy. Hyunjin was unpredictable, chaotic even, but there was a charm to the way he embraced his quirks so unapologetically.

Over the weeks, he continued showing up to meetings, always armed with another outlandish idea. You never knew what to expect, but his presence made the planning process more fun than you’d anticipated.

One rainy afternoon, as you walked back from yet another meeting, a car sped through a puddle, sending water flying toward you. Before you could react, Hyunjin darted forward, attempting to shield you. Instead, he caught the full force of the splash.

Soaked from head to toe, he turned to you with an apologetic grin. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Next time, maybe skip the heroics?”

Hyunjin shrugged, dripping water but still smiling. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

----------------------------------------------------------

After that day, you and Hyunjin started spending more and more time together. Between wedding meetings, he’d randomly show up with plans for coffee runs, surprise visits to art galleries, and quirky little outings. Whether he was making you laugh unintentionally or with deliberate mischief, you found yourself falling for him, one laugh at a time.

One particularly stressful day, you were drowning in wedding prep, timelines, budgets, and last-minute crises piled high on your desk. Hyunjin waltzed in unannounced, his usual grin plastered across his face.

“You look like you need a break,” he said, pulling up a chair beside you. “How about a little distraction?”

You sighed, leaning back in frustration. “I don’t have time for distractions, Hyunjin. The wedding is in three days, and everything is falling apart.”

He tilted his head, studying you thoughtfully. “Okay, counteroffer: one hour at an art gallery. I promise it’ll clear your head.”

You frowned, torn between the mountain of work and the temptation in his eyes. Finally, you relented. “Fine. One hour.”

One hour turned into two. By the time you returned, the weight of your stress had lifted, replaced by the calm and joy of Hyunjin’s chaos. His ability to ease your burdens with simple, thoughtful gestures was just one of the many reasons you’d started to fall for him.

----------------------------------------------------------

The months with Hyunjin had been a whirlwind of laughter, spontaneity, and moments that left you breathless. It wasn’t just his charm or his creativity that captured your heart-it was how he made the mundane feel extraordinary, as if life itself were art, waiting to be experienced.

That magic followed you tonight as the two of you wandered along the Han River under a warm, starlit sky. The breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of cicadas. Lanterns strung along the walkway cast a golden glow, illuminating his face as he animatedly talked about his latest project...a series of paintings inspired by emotions that couldn’t be put into words.

“One of them is all jagged, sharp strokes for when you want to laugh and cry at the same time,” he explained, gesturing enthusiastically. “And another is this swirl of soft, pastel shades...it’s supposed to feel like when you’re overwhelmed but kind of happy about it. It’s chaos, but that’s the beauty of it!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Hyunjin, your whole life is chaos. How do you manage to make it look so effortless?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling like the river reflecting the city lights. “That’s the secret! Chaos isn’t something you manage...it’s something you embrace. Like a dance.”

“A dance?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “So, my life should be an interpretive dance of chaos?”

“Exactly!” he said, snapping his fingers as if he’d made a groundbreaking discovery. “And who better to teach you than me, the master of chaos?”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming, you mean?” he quipped, his dimples making an appearance as he flashed you his signature cheeky grin.

But before you could retort, he stopped walking, his expression shifting into something softer, almost hesitant. The playful light in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

“Actually…” he began, his voice quieter now, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What is it?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’d come to recognize. “I know I’ve been a bit of a whirlwind...crashing into your life with all my ridiculous ideas and dragging you into my chaos. But through it all, I’ve had the absolute best time getting to know you. And… I don’t want it to end.”

Your breath hitched, his words settling over you like a warm summer breeze.

“So,” he continued, stepping a little closer, “will you go on a date with me? A real one. No brainstorming, no interruptions...just you and me.”

You blinked, caught between surprise and the warmth blooming in your chest. “A real date?” you repeated, pretending to deliberate. “Does that mean I finally get a break from your creative chaos?”

He laughed, the sound light and full of relief. “I can’t promise that,” he admitted with a lopsided grin, “but I’ll try to keep it to a minimum. Controlled chaos.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you smiled at him. “Alright, Hyunjin. I’ll go on a date with you.”

The joy that lit up his face was brighter than the lanterns around you. He let out a breath he’d clearly been holding, his grin widening until it reached his eyes. “Really? You will?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks heat under his gaze. “But remember! you promised me controlled chaos.”

“Deal,” he said, his laughter carrying through the warm night air.

Then, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Your heart raced as you nodded, unable to speak.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice trembling with nervousness.

“Because I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, and I just… I can’t wait anymore.”

The sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to resist. You nodded again, your breath catching as the world seemed to slow around you.

The smile that spread across his face was gentle and full of warmth. His hands reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I’m kind of terrified right now,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice just as quiet.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed - soft, warm, and filled with unspoken emotions that made your heart soar. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go. The warm breeze swirled around you, carrying the faint scent of flowers and the promise of something new.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t mess that up, did I?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled, your hands resting on his chest. “Not even a little.”

His laughter bubbled up again, and he pulled you into a tight hug, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh along. As you stood there, wrapped in his arms beneath the warm summer sky, you realized something: Hyunjin wasn’t just chaos...he was your chaos. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------------------------------------------

Fast forward to now, as you lay in bed scrolling through your phone, a fond smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about how you met Hyunjin. Suddenly, your screen lit up with an incoming call, his name flashing across it. Without hesitation, you answered.

“Have you eaten?” he asked immediately, his voice warm and familiar, like a favorite melody.

You laughed softly. “Yes, Hyunjin, I’ve eaten. Have you?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Barely. Today was insane. The exhibition was pure chaos..like, actual chaos. One of the canvases fell off the wall mid-display, someone tripped over the lighting cords, and, oh, let’s not forget when I spilled paint on the gallery owner’s shoes.”

You winced, barely stifling a laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault my art invites so much… energy,” he defended, though the amusement in his voice was impossible to miss. “Anyway, how was Chuseok without me? Did your family miss me?”

“Oh, you know,” you teased, “the usual chaos: food, teasing, and… questions about you.”

“About me?” he asked cautiously, suspicion creeping into his tone. “What kind of questions?”

You hesitated, knowing his reaction would be priceless. “Well… my family wants to meet you. On Christmas.”

There was a brief pause. “They what?”

“They want to meet you,” you repeated, biting back a grin.

Hyunjin groaned dramatically. “Like, face-to-face? ‘Sit-down-and-talk-about-my-life’ meet me?”

“Exactly,” you said, barely suppressing your laughter.

“Oh no,” he muttered. “This is bad. Your dad’s going to grill me like I’m the main course. He’s probably already drafting a list of questions about my job, and when I panic and start talking about spaghetti metaphors, it’s all going to spiral. Your brother will just sit there smirking, waiting for me to mess up. And your grandma… she’s going to judge me for the way I hold chopsticks, isn’t she?”

You burst into laughter. “Relax, Hyunjin. My grandma only cares about two things: whether you bring good wine and if your fruit basket game is strong.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, his voice laced with panic. “I have to bring a fruit basket and wine? Is this a Christmas dinner or a survival challenge?”

“It’s festive but serious,” you replied, grinning. “Dad calls it:

‘An occasion for celebration and evaluation’

Which is basically code for: let’s judge you while enjoying ham.”

Hyunjin groaned again. “Why does your dad sound like he’s hosting auditions for the role of son-in-law?”

“Because he kind of is,” you teased, trying not to laugh at his distress.

“Great,” he deadpanned. “I’m walking into a festive firing squad. And I have to come armed with fruit and wine? Do they prefer a classic fruit basket or something more avant-garde? Should I arrange it in the shape of a Christmas tree? Or is that too much?”

“You’re overthinking it,” you assured him, still grinning. “Just grab some nice apples and oranges. Maybe throw in a pear or two for flair.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his voice rising in panic again. “Red or white? Sweet or dry? What if your dad secretly prefers whiskey and silently judges me for bringing wine? What if your grandma’s secretly a sommelier and I offend her with a cheap bottle?”

“Hyunjin,” you said, struggling to keep a straight face, “my grandma thinks boxed wine is fancy. You’ll be fine.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Okay, fruit basket, wine. Got it. Anything else? Do I need to dress up? Is there a secret handshake? Should I prepare a speech?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Just be yourself. Chaotic, but respectful chaos, remember?”

“Respectful chaos,” he repeated as if it were a mantra. “Alright. I can do this. But if your dad starts grilling me and I start rambling about spaghetti metaphors, you better jump in and save me.”

“Deal,” you said, still laughing.

“And if I survive this dinner,” he added mischievously, “you owe me a nice, peaceful date. No questions, no interrogations.”

“Deal,” you agreed.

As you hung up, you could already picture Hyunjin wandering through a store, agonizing over fruit basket aesthetics and wine labels. You knew Christmas dinner would be chaotic...after all, it always was. But with Hyunjin? It would be a chaos you wouldn’t trade for anything...

---------------------------------------------------------

You used to think meeting a significant other’s family was nerve-wracking only for women. Oh, how wrong you were. In your case, it was your boyfriend, Hyunjin, who was spiraling into a full-blown, Oscar-worthy meltdown about Christmas dinner with your family.

Currently, you were perched on his bed, cross-legged, watching the spectacle unfold with a mix of amusement and secondhand anxiety. Hyunjin was on his third frantic lap through his closet, tossing sweaters and shirts around like a tornado. You leaned back against the pillows, silently debating whether to intervene or just let him burn off his dramatic energy.

“Hyunjin,” you finally said, trying to sound soothing, “it’s just dinner, not the Met Gala.”

He whirled around, clutching two wildly different sweaters: a classic black one and something that looked like it had been stolen from an 80s ski lodge. His face was the epitome of despair. “Just dinner? Do you understand what’s at stake here? This is Christmas dinner! Your dad is going to interrogate me like he’s hosting a true-crime podcast. He’ll ask about my job, my future, my intentions, and when I inevitably panic, I’ll start talking about spaghetti metaphors!”

“Spaghetti metaphors?” you repeated, biting back a laugh.

“Yes, it’s a thing!” He threw the black sweater onto the floor with a dramatic flourish. “When I get nervous, I talk in analogies. And somehow, everything ends up being about pasta. Last time I described my art process as ‘like boiling spaghetti,’ and the gallery owner looked like he wanted to fire me on the spot.”

By now, you were laughing so hard your stomach hurt. “Okay, so my dad might ask a few questions....”

“A few questions?!” he interrupted, his hands flying to his hair. “Your dad is going to stare into my soul, your brother is going to roast me like a Christmas ham, and your grandma...oh god, your grandma! She’s going to judge me for how I hold my chopsticks, isn’t she? Is there a secret technique? Should I start practicing now?”

“Relax,” you said between giggles. “Grandma doesn’t care about chopsticks. She cares about two things: if you bring good wine and if your fruit basket game is good or not. "

“Wine and fruit basket. Got it,” he said, nodding like he was preparing for battle. “Okay, one disaster averted. But what about my outfit? I can’t just show up looking like I rolled out of bed. I need to look… professional. No, wait—approachable. Charming. Like the perfect boyfriend. Do I look like the perfect boyfriend in this sweater?” He gestured to the ski-lodge monstrosity he was now wearing.

“Honestly?” you said, grinning. “You look like a backup dancer for an 80s Christmas music video.”

“Great,” he groaned, tossing the sweater aside. “I’m doomed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Or… we could just go to the mall and find something nice. Something that says ‘respectable artist’ instead of ‘escaped circus performer.’”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Mall? Yes. Let’s go. I can feel it—I’m going to find the perfect outfit.”

Fast forward to the mall, where Hyunjin had already tried on and rejected half the men’s section. Three blazers, two turtlenecks, and enough dress shirts to outfit a boy band later, you were starting to lose hope.

And then it happened.

You saw it before Hyunjin did...a pair of metallic, shimmering boots that practically glowed under the store lights.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, already sensing doom.

But Hyunjin’s eyes widened with pure delight. “Oh yes,” he whispered, making a beeline for the display.

“Hyunjin, no,” you said firmly, following after him.

“Hyunjin, yes!” he countered, picking up one of the boots like it was the Holy Grail. “These boots are everything. They’re bold, they’re iconic, they scream ‘fearless boyfriend.’”

“They scream ‘disco ball meets midlife crisis,’” you deadpanned, staring at the blindingly shiny boots.

“Your family will love them!” he said, slipping one on and striking a pose. “Look at this. I’m making a statement.”

“Yeah, the statement is, ‘Please stop staring at my feet,’” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

A sales assistant wandered over, clearly trying not to laugh. “Those are… bold,” she said diplomatically.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replied, beaming. “I’ll take them.”

“Hyunjin, no!” you protested, but it was too late. He was already at the counter, handing over his credit card like he’d just won the lottery.

As you left the store, Hyunjin practically skipping with his shiny new boots, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “your family is going to remember me forever.”

“Oh, they’ll remember you,” you said. “They might even still be talking about you next Christmas.”

“Good,” he replied with that signature grin. “First impressions matter.”

“You do realize my dad’s going to ask you about your job, right? While you’re wearing those?”

“Exactly!” he said, his grin widening. “When I tell him I’m an artist, the boots will speak for themselves. They say, ‘This man is fearless.’”

You groaned, shaking your head. “You’re killing me, Hyunjin.”

And as you both walked toward the parking lot, Hyunjin proudly clutching his shiny new boots like they were priceless treasures, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and dread. Christmas dinner with your family was already shaping up to be an unforgettable event...though whether for good or chaotic reasons remained to be seen...

--------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, so we’ve got the boots,” you said, trying to suppress a grin. “But there’s still one tiny thing left to handle: the fruit basket.”

“Yes, the fruit basket,” he repeated, nodding seriously. Then, with a sudden drop in his voice, he added, “I really hope I don’t mess it up.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing at his dramatic tone. “It’s fruit, Hyunjin. Not a job interview. Let’s just find something nice and call it a day.”

The two of you headed to a fancy grocery store, where Hyunjin immediately locked eyes with the aisles of meticulously arranged fruits. To him, it seemed, this was no ordinary shopping trip. He surveyed the scene like a warrior choosing his weapon for battle.

“I’ve never felt so much pressure over fruit,” he muttered, holding up an apple like it was a rare artifact. “Do you think this one says, ‘I’m responsible and thoughtful’?”

“It’s just an apple,” you replied, trying to keep him grounded.

“But it’s the apple,” he insisted, turning it over in his hands. “It needs to symbolize my commitment to this dinner. The apple is my ticket to acceptance!”

You watched as he placed the perfectly fine apple back and instead grabbed a comically oversized one, clearly trying to make a statement. “Hyunjin, it’s a fruit basket, not a résumé.”

After what felt like an eternity of inspecting, analyzing, and overthinking every piece of produce, you finally settled on an assortment. Hyunjin proudly selected a particularly dramatic pineapple, claiming it “looked artistic” and would anchor the whole basket.

At checkout, his confidence was back in full force. “I think I nailed it,” he said, beaming. “This fruit basket says, ‘I’m here for family, but I’m also a little extra.’”

“Perfect,” you said, nodding. “Now just don’t forget the most important part of Christmas dinner.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity genuine.

“Grandma’s dance,” you said casually.

His face fell instantly. “What?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised,” you teased. “Every year, after dinner, my grandma gets up and does her little dance. It’s her tradition.”

“No,” he said, wide-eyed and panicked. “Please, no. I can’t do this. I can’t even dance in front of you, let alone an audience.”

“Sorry, but you’re in it now,” you said, smirking. You could already picture the scene...your grandma in her festive red sweater and apron, hopping and twirling around the living room with surprising energy.

“You’re telling me... your grandma dances?” Hyunjin asked, his disbelief apparent.

“Yep,” you said, barely holding back your laughter. “And she’s good at it. Don’t be shocked if she pulls you up to join her.”

Hyunjin looked like he was seriously considering fleeing. “This is my worst nightmare.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, nudging him. “It’ll be fun. You’ll blend right in.”

“Blend in? Wearing shiny boots and holding a fruit basket, dancing with your grandma in front of your entire family? Sure, what could go wrong?” he muttered, shaking his head in despair.

“Exactly. Nothing to worry about,” you said with a grin.

He shot you a look. “If I trip, I’m blaming the boots.”

“And I’ll be in the front row with my camera,” you teased, watching him glare at the boots like they were both his greatest triumph and his downfall.

“Great,” he sighed dramatically. “Immortalized forever on your grandma’s Instagram: shiny boots, fruit basket, and all. Perfect.”

You laughed as you both headed back to your place, bracing for the chaos to come. Between Hyunjin’s flair for theatrics, your grandma’s impromptu dance moves, and a family that wouldn’t let anything slide, Christmas dinner was bound to be a spectacle.

But as you glanced over at him, shiny boots and pineapple in tow, you couldn’t help but smile. If anyone could survive the night...and somehow make it charming...it was Hyunjin. Chaos, quirks, and all...

--------------------------------------------------------

As you and Hyunjin approached your family’s front door, his steps growing slower with every inch closer. For the fifth time since leaving the car, he adjusted the fruit basket in his hands. “Do you think the pineapple’s too much?” he asked, glancing nervously at the artfully arranged assortment.

You turned to face him, stifling a laugh. “Hyunjin, it’s a fruit basket, not a dowry. Relax.”

He sighed, unconvinced. “But what if your dad thinks the pineapple is, I don’t know, pretentious? Or worse!, what if he hates mangoes?”

“Who hates mangoes?” you asked, amused.

“I don’t know!” he whispered dramatically, his eyes wide. “I just really want to make a good impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” you said, reaching up to straighten his slightly crooked tie. “Just be yourself.”

He shot you a skeptical look. “Being myself has historically led to chaos.”

“Lucky for you, my family thrives on chaos,” you teased, giving him an encouraging smile before ringing the doorbell.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing your grandma, her face lighting up when she saw you. “There’s my favorite granddaughter!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug before her gaze shifted to Hyunjin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And who’s this tall drink of water?”

Hyunjin, caught off guard, thrust the fruit basket and bottle of wine toward her like peace offerings. “Hello, ma’am. I brought this for your family. The fruit selection is... uh, curated.”

Grandma took the basket, inspecting it like it was a work of art. “Curated, you say? Well, look at this pineapple...very artistic. You’ve got an eye for detail, young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hyunjin said, bowing slightly.

“And wine, too?” she added, holding up the bottle. “Now we’re talking. Come in, you’re already off to a good start.”

As you stepped inside, Hyunjin scanned the room, taking in the cozy chaos of your family’s Christmas decor. Twinkling lights covered every surface, stockings hung unevenly on the mantel, and the Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, laden with mismatched ornaments.

But before he could comment on the festive ambiance, his shiny boots betrayed him. He slipped on the polished floor, flailing for balance until his arm instinctively grabbed the closest thing - your beloved Christmas tree.

Grandma, still holding the fruit basket, let out a laugh that echoed through the room. “Well, that’s certainly one way to make an entrance.”

Hyunjin quickly let go of the tree, brushing pine needles off his sleeve with an embarrassed grin. “Honestly, it’s a very... huggable tree.”

Your dad, watching the scene unfold from his armchair, raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “So, this is the boyfriend?”

“Yes, Dad,” you said quickly, stepping in before Hyunjin could spiral. “This is Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin straightened up under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. “Sir,” he said respectfully, bowing.

Before your dad could say anything, your mom entered from the kitchen, her festive apron dusted with flour. “Hyunjin, welcome! You’ve already charmed Mom with that fruit basket, so you’re doing well so far.”

Hyunjin gave a small, nervous smile. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m happy to be here.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts,” your brother said as he strolled in, a smirk on his face. He gestured toward the tree. “Hugging the decorations already? Bold choice.”

“It was... an artistic reflex,” Hyunjin replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your dad cleared his throat, the room falling silent as he leaned back in his chair. “Hyunjin, let’s talk. What do you do for a living?”

Hyunjin hesitated for a moment, glancing at you for reassurance. “I’m an artist, sir. I specialize in abstract painting.”

“Abstract painting,” your dad repeated, his tone even. “Interesting. How does one make a career out of that?”

Hyunjin straightened his shoulders, his voice steady. “I showcase my work in galleries and take on commissions. It’s about creating connections and telling stories through colors and forms.”

Your brother let out a snort. “So... finger painting for grown-ups?”

You glared at him, but before you could defend Hyunjin, he laughed. “Not quite, but I’ll admit it can get messy sometimes.”

“Messy, huh?” your dad said, leaning back in his chair, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “And what are your intentions with my daughter?”

Hyunjin’s face turned a shade redder than the poinsettias on the table. “My intentions are... entirely honorable, sir. I care about her deeply, and I...”

“Want to hug her like the tree?” your brother cut in, earning a sharp glare from you and a chuckle from your mom.

“Enough teasing,” your mom said, stepping in to rescue him. She smiled at Hyunjin. “For what it’s worth, I like you. Anyone who can handle my mom’s humor and not run for the hills is good in my book.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hyunjin replied, his relief evident.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” your grandma piped up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “There’s one final test. Every Christmas, we dance. And since you’re part of this gathering now, you’re up.”

“Dance?” Hyunjin repeated, his voice rising slightly in pitch.

“Oh, yes,” your grandma said as she made her way to the stereo. “You’re going to have to keep up with me.”

Your brother leaned back on the couch, smirking. “This is going to be epic. Grandma’s got moves.”

Your dad crossed his arms, an amused glint in his eyes. “Consider it part of your initiation.”

Hyunjin shot you a look of pure desperation as festive music began to play. “You’re not going to save me, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said, laughing.

With surprising agility, your grandma started twirling across the room, her movements almost defying her age. Hyunjin took a deep breath and hesitantly joined her. What followed was a chaotic, laugh-out-loud performance as Hyunjin tried to keep up with your grandma’s energetic spins and dips. He stumbled through a few steps, narrowly avoided tripping over a stray stocking, and accidentally sent a candy cane flying off the tree.

Your brother was in hysterics, snapping photos. “This is comedy gold. I’m framing this.”

Your mom leaned toward you, her expression warm. “He’s charming,” she whispered. “I think he’s a keeper.”

You smiled, watching Hyunjin finish the dance with a dramatic, albeit unsteady, flourish. “I think so too.”

Panting but triumphant, Hyunjin received a hearty clap on the back from your grandma. “Not bad, artist boy,” she said with a grin. “You’ve got spirit.”

Hyunjin gave a shaky thumbs-up, still catching his breath. “I told you... I’m dynamic... and vibing.”

The room erupted into laughter, filling the space with the kind of warmth only family can create.

As the laughter subsided, Hyunjin collapsed into the nearest chair, wiping his brow. “Your grandma should be a dance instructor,” he said, still smiling. “I feel like I just survived an audition for Dancing with the Stars.”

Your grandma smirked, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Oh, honey, if you think that was tough, wait until I challenge you to a salsa battle next year.”

“Next year?” Hyunjin repeated, his eyes wide as he looked at you for backup.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, patting his shoulder. “You’ll have a whole year to practice.”

Your brother, still scrolling through the pictures he’d taken, held up his phone. “I’m definitely printing this one,” he said, showing a particularly unflattering shot of Hyunjin mid-spin, arms flailing wildly.

Hyunjin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” your brother replied, grinning. “I’m thinking Christmas cards. Maybe even a calendar.”

Your dad, who had been quietly observing the chaos with a faint smile, finally spoke up. “All right, enough tormenting the poor guy. Let’s move on to dinner. I’m starving.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Your mom emerged from the kitchen, balancing a tray of appetizers with practiced ease. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said, setting the tray down. “In the meantime, why don’t we all sit and let Hyunjin catch his breath?”

As everyone moved toward the dining table, Hyunjin leaned in close to you. “Your family is... something else,” he murmured, equal parts amused and overwhelmed.

“They like you,” you whispered back, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. “Even my brother. This is just how they test people.”

“Test me?” he asked, arching a brow. “I feel like I’ve just survived an Olympic event.”

“Consider it a rite of passage,” you said with a grin.

Once everyone was seated, your dad picked up where he’d left off, his tone now more conversational. “So, Hyunjin, tell me more about your art. Where do you find your inspiration?”

Hyunjin straightened up, clearly more comfortable with the question. “A lot of my inspiration comes from emotions - joy, chaos, even moments like this,” he said, gesturing to the lively scene around the table. “I try to capture the energy of an experience and translate it visually.”

Your grandma, mid-bite of a canapé, perked up. “So, you’d paint this? A Christmas dinner with a fruit basket centerpiece and a tree barely standing after you hugged it?”

Hyunjin laughed. “Exactly. I’d call it Festive Mayhem.”

Your brother smirked. “Can I be in it? As the voice of reason, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes. “Voice of reason? You’re the cause of most of the chaos.”

“Hey,” your brother said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “I’m just making sure the boyfriend is worthy of my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister,” you shot back.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” he replied with a wink.

Your dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, Hyunjin, you’ve made it through the dance floor and my questions. That’s no small accomplishment.”

“And you’ve won over Grandma,” your mom added with a warm smile. “That might be the hardest part.”

Hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Honestly, I was prepared to sneak out of here in the fruit basket if things went south.”

Your grandma raised her glass, eyes twinkling. “To Hyunjin and his shiny boots! May they carry him through many more family gatherings.”

“Hear, hear!” your brother chimed in, lifting his mug of hot chocolate.

Hyunjin laughed, finally letting his guard down as he clinked glasses with everyone. As dinner was served and the conversation turned to lighter topics, he leaned over to you again, his tone softer. “You were right,” he said, smiling. “Your family thrives on chaos... but I kind of love it.”

You glanced around the table....your dad telling one of his signature groan-worthy Christmas jokes, your mom debating recipes with your grandma, and your brother mock-arguing over the “correct” way to hang tinsel...and smiled. “I told you they’d like you.”

Hyunjin’s fingers found yours under the table, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m starting to like them too. Even your brother. Sort of.”

“High praise,” you teased, nudging him lightly.

By the time dessert was served and gifts were exchanged, Hyunjin was laughing alongside your family as if he’d been part of it for years. Your grandma even roped him into another impromptu salsa dance, which he tackled with much more confidence and far fewer collisions.

----------------------------------‐-----------------------

After dinner, the house buzzed with the warmth of a festive afterglow. The hum of your family’s laughter and chatter filled the living room, but you and Hyunjin slipped upstairs to your bedroom, seeking a moment of quiet amidst the chaos.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the lively sounds from downstairs became a muffled hum. Hyunjin leaned back against the door, exhaling dramatically. “That was... an experience,” he said with a breathy laugh, his face a mix of relief and amusement.

You smiled, crossing the room to him. “An experience, huh? That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.”

He grinned, tilting his head. “Okay, fine. It was borderline chaotic. But also kind of amazing.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to brush a stray pine needle off his shoulder. “You survived. That’s what counts.”

“Survived?” he echoed, feigning offense. “I conquered. Well, maybe stumbled my way through, but still...points for effort?”

You chuckled, leaning against him. “You more than earned your points. My family already adores you...pineapple and all.”

Hyunjin’s face softened, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “Your family is wild, but I can see where you get it from. They’re... wonderful.”

His arms found their way around you, pulling you into a cozy hug. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The whirlwind of the evening melted away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, perfect moment.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmured, your voice soft against the fabric of his sweater. “For putting up with my brother’s teasing, Grandma’s dancing, and everything in between.”

Hyunjin chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly under your cheek. “Honestly? I loved every second of it. Even the salsa battle I wasn’t prepared for.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile widening. “You were amazing out there. I mean, the tree might not agree, but still.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “I was just giving the tree some love. It looked lonely.”

You playfully swatted his arm, and he caught your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Seriously, though,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’d go through all the chaos in the world if it meant being with you.”

The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm, and you felt your heart swell. “You’re too good to be true,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hyunjin smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Me too. Chaos and all, this is one of the best nights I’ve ever had.”

The distant sounds of your family’s laughter drifted up the stairs, a warm reminder of the love and joy that had filled the evening. But here, in this quiet bubble with Hyunjin, it felt like time had slowed. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his hand came up to gently cradle your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with emotion.

Your breath caught, and you nodded, unable to hide your smile. “You don’t have to ask.”

His lips curved into a soft smile before he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The kiss was tender, sweet, and slow, like he was pouring every unspoken word and feeling into it. The world seemed to blur and quiet around you, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the taste of his kiss.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes still closed. “You make all of this worth it,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

Your heart swelled, and you smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re worth it too.”

Hyunjin laughed lightly, the sound vibrating between you. “Are you sure you’re not a dream? Because this feels too good to be real.”

“If I’m a dream, then don’t wake up,” you teased, your voice playful but full of affection.

He grinned, stealing one more quick kiss before pulling you back into his arms. And as the muffled sounds of your family’s laughter continued downstairs, you stayed wrapped up in the quiet joy of this perfect moment with him, knowing it was one you’d never forget....

☃︎♡ Bonus - Man's so hot he really makes even shiny boots and shiny pants stand out with an artistic impression 😌🤌😍🫠 ( Like how can you not drool 🫣)

☃︎♡Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve   @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

☃︎♡ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

[luvst4rc0r3]

“Slave”

Jinx x (Fem coded) Reader

WARNINGS: Minor cursing, Angst, SELF HARM

WORD COUNT: 1607

NOTE: Reader has a grown up too fast. NOT PROOFREAD!! FEM CODED!!

You loved your life. I was peaceful now. Compared to years before. You had Jinx, Isha, and your son, Micheal. Life is good now. You spent years of working 2 jobs to take care of your son and you “old family”

Since both of your parents were gone you had to step up as a parent even if you weren’t the oldest. You took care of every single one of your siblings. You cleaned the house, made food, and made sure you planned events accordingly. You were a mother. But you didn’t want to be. It was forced upon you.

Sure you would have not taken care of Micheal. Sure you could’ve not taken care of the rest of your siblings.

But if you didn’t then they would be helpless, and you were too kind to let them suffer with the loss of both of your parents.

You were happy for a while. But you had a breaking point. You were treated like a slave. You were expected to do everything. To keep everything together like tape. Even so…tape can break.

You were done but you knew you had to keep going on for your son. He was your life, your pride, the reason you’re still here.

You tried so hard to tape your’s and your son’s life but you just can’t. It was too much for you. All of the cooking, cleaning, scolding you had to do. And not even a thank you from anyone. You never heard a thank you from anyone you took care of. From your friends to your son, I mean how can you blame him when he was a baby, he eventually learned to say thank you, but even to your own flesh and blood. Your siblings never said “thank you” just took you for granted. You got used to it. It hurt but what could you do?

Till you met Jinx. You are working for Silco. A debt collector. You collected debt from people and places. You also were a minor nurse. From all the experience as a “mother” you were the perfect fit.

Jinx had a fever and since it wasn’t a major injury, Silco put you on the job to take care of her. So you did, you never expected a thank you. I mean it was Zaun. People don’t have manners. All they know how to do is fight.

But Jinx. She always appreciated you even if it didn’t seem like she did. Since the moment you took care of her. She may have not said “thank you” but you knew you were appreciated. You were right?

She made it her goal to care for you like you cared for her fever. So every time you went out to settle a debt she was right behind you making sure you were never hurt. Even though you can take care of yourself she just wants to be sure.

That leads you to start dating. Micheal liked her. I mean what kid wouldn’t like an adult who built them cool stuff. Can when Jinx had Isha you would be at her hideout 25/8 now that she and Micheal were friends.

You liked this life. Sure it has some bumps. Like you untalked about trauma and her hallucinations. You still love her.

One night though was particularly bad.

You were playing with Isha and Micheal while was…um…doing whatever at her work station. You were worried for her. She hadn’t gotten any sleep recently, also not eating that much.

When Isha and Micheal were getting settled down for just playing cards with each other you decided to go over to Jinx making sure she was ok.

“Hey hun, I recently saw that you haven’t been getting sleep or eating well. Why not take a break? To take your mind off of everything.”

“No not right now, pretty. I'm working on something.” She doesn’t even glance at you; her full attention is on the device she is making.

“Jinx this is not healthy please. I’m begging you take a break” you plead with her

“Doll not right now” she says firmly.

“Jinx you have to-“ before you can finish you hear her yell

“OH MY GOD! Why can’t you mind your damn business for once in your life! You’re hovering over everything I do. Nagging me what to do and what not to do! You’re just useless. Just leave me alone.”

That made you stop in your tracks. Nagging? Hovering? Useless? Jinx never said these words to you. It reminds you of how your siblings treated you. Like trash.

“Fine…” you started, “Micheal we are leaving,” you said firmly. Isha was immediately against the idea, shaking her head no and so was Michael.

“Just let the kid stay the damn night. You don’t have to dictate the kid’s life along with mine” Jinx stated coldly.

…

“Fine”

With that you turned around and left.

Your arrival to your apartment didn’t take that long. But the weight of everything came crashing down the second you shut the door. You came crashing down, sobbing.

You were sick. Sick of everyone treating you like you were too insignificant to waste their breath on. Sick of everyone taking you for granted.

You were just sobbing on the ground. Too tired to get up, too tired for anything. You eventually get up not to sleep, not go to the bathroom, you just grabbed a knife and alcohol then plopped yourself on the couch. You returned to your old habits. Of self harm and booze. You didn’t count how many times that knife went over your wrist and ankles. Too many to count.

You eventually pass out.

When you wake up you go to get Micheal but when you get there he begs (and Isha too) you to let her stay for multiple days since she has done it before. You were too tired to care that you said yes on 2 conditions. You go to the hideout once a day to make sure they were fine and that you would make the meals that they could eat because you doubt that Jinx gave them good food to eat. They agree and hug you before you turn and leave.

The next 2 weeks were spent in this order:

wake up with a hangover and lose of blood

Go over to Jinx’s hideout to make sure Micheal and Isha were alive, then give them food.

Go to work

Go to the bar to drink.

Go to a convenience store to get more alcohol and food for the kids.

Come home

drink and self harm till you pass.

That was your routine for a whole 2 weeks. Never breaking the schedule. You didn’t care anymore. You were too tired.

Since you were too tired you didn’t realize 2 kids were following you. They watched your routine for a couple days seeing that you were done with life and had no hope. They felt bad.

Jinx on the other hand. It looked like she was doing fine but inside she was slowly dying. The voices got to her but she ignored them while working. She never wanted to admit it, she missed you. Missed how you tell her to take care of herself, she missed your voice, your scent, your touch. Her ego was too big for her to admit it though.

Her routine for those 2 weeks were:

wake up

maybe eat something

make sure the 2 kids were alive

start working

Work until she crashed

Eventually the 2 kids realize that nothing would change unless they did anything.

So they convinced Jinx to apologize to you when you came over.

When you came over the next day they dragged you inside where Jinx was looking at her waiting.

she sighs when she sees you then turns to her work while talking “I’m sorry for the way I treated you a couple weeks ago” it sounded so half assed. Like it was written out for her. Wait.

You noticed a paper right next to her. In the children's handwriting it wrote exactly what she said. You were beyond pissed

Your lover didn’t even want to look at you while she talked from a script. You were too insignificant for her.

Everything you had been taping up for the past 2 weeks broke.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Now that got her attention.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you dumb? The the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled not letting her speak.

“You're not even looking at me while you talk from a script that you didn’t even make!”

“So? It's not like you do anything except nag.” She stated, not really caring.

“So? Did you just say so? I don’t do anything?” You were so stunned.

“I work day and night to take care of not only the kids but your ass too!” You continue yelling, “I work so hard to make sure we are fine financially. Not only that I put food on the table, comfort you when you are having a panic attack, take care of the kids when you don't want to, I make sure they eat, sleep, and breathe. I even make sure you eat, sleep, and breathe too!” “You don’t have to do that” “if I don’t do that then who will?! Certainly not you. You can’t even get up to wash your hair some days. You make me do it. Who would take care of the kids?! Not you. You can’t even provide them a decent meal! You can’t even afford one.”

She was stunned. She hates how she knew you were right. How the only reason she is alive is because you have taken care of her. She never even thanked you.

“So I’m sorry…” you started crying, “if I nag and dictate your life. If you don’t want me in it then fine.”

For once you put yourself first. You took Micheal’s hand and walked out, never turning back. You didn’t know if you were even going to get back with Jinx again.

HEYY!!! Guys I wrote this while I was pissed at my brother so idk if I want to read this. BUTTTT if YALL want a pt2 I can do it (I’ll probably do it either way)

But ya.

I want food

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- one.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, arguing, jealousy, weed, brief mention of sex, reader gets caught with a vape at the airport 💔

w.c- 2,144

a.n- this is my first fic ever! and ofc with noah, who else? let me know how you like it! feedback is always welcome <3

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment.

"come on dude, hurry up before we miss the flight." nicholas' voice rang throughout my apartment. i groaned, zipping up my suitcase and running downstairs.

i started as the photographer for bad omens back in 2015 when they formed. i'd been friends with nicholas since we were kids, and he put in a little word to their singer about how he had a friend who studied photography and could help them out. so then i was hired.

little did i know, i would grow to loathe their lead singer, noah sebastian. he was a thorn in my side, always nagging and arguing over things where half the time, he wasn't even right.

nicholas and i got in the uber, heading to the airport. we were leaving for yet another tour. which meant yet another unbearable year with noah. we were meeting them there, and i was a little less than thrilled.

"penny for your thoughts?" nicholas said, noticing how i was zoning out.

"just thinking about how unbearable noah is. i am not happy about this." i sighed.

nicholas laughed softly, shaking his head. "you ever think that maybe that 'hate' is something else?" i looked at him, confused. "like what?" i asked.

"oh, i dunno, love? lust? whatever you wanna call it."

i looked at him like he just told me he killed my family. what a crazy thought. me? in love with noah? absolutely not. hell no.

"i would rather swallow shards of glass than date that motherfucker." i said, nicholas laughing at my words.

we soon arrived at the airport, meeting up with the others at the entrance. i made it my mission to avoid noah, which soon proved to be unsuccessful.

"nice shoes." he said sarcastically, walking next to me in front of the other three.

i rolled my eyes. "what's wrong with my shoes?" i asked, looking down at my dirty and worn converses.

noah rolled his eyes back. "you look like you haven't bought a new pair of shoes in years. i know damn well we pay you enough, you can afford them."

"yeah, i can afford them. but i don't want them." i said. "i'm perfectly fine with these. they're in good shape, just a little dirty."

"a little is putting it lightly." he said. "you look like you've gone through multiple wars in those things. buy some new damn shoes, please."

i ignored his words, putting all my things in a little tub as we began to go through security. when i went through the detector, they flagged me down and pulled me to the side, making me furrow my brows. i didn't think i had anything. i put everything in the bin. except... fuck.

i groaned as they pulled the vape out of my pocket, the others in front of me trying not to laugh at the situation as they gathered theirs and my items.

"we're gonna have to confiscate this, miss." the guard said, and i nodded. they gave me one last pat down before letting me go.

"nice job, idiot." noah said as i slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"do you have to make a jab at every mistake i make?" i snapped back. "no, but it's funny."

i huffed, starting to walk to our terminal, not in the mood for any more teasing or jokes.

"oh, come the fuck on." i groaned as noah sat beside me on the plane. "you had to have done this on purpose."

"sorry, princess. happened by chance." he said, starting to get comfortable.

i placed my head in my hands, mentally cursing everyone and everything for this happening to me before facing him again.

"i'm saying this now, and i better not have to repeat myself. i'd like to have a nice, calm, and quiet flight. if you bother me, i swear to god i will punch you. got it?"

noah snickered and gave a mock salute. "yes ma'am."

i sighed, putting on my headphones to block out the noises of the other people around me and closed my eyes.

a couple hours later, there was a tap on my shoulder. i sighed deeply before taking off my headphones and facing the culprit. noah, of course. "what?"

"do you have snacks? i'm hungry."

"no, idiot. why would i have snacks on an airplane? ask the flight attendant."

"i don't want to do that." he said.

"then starve or something, i don't care." i replied, moving to put my headphones back on.

"but y/nnnn!" he whined, shaking my shoulder like a toddler. he was doing this on purpose to piss me off.

"don't touch me with your gross hands" i said, pushing him away.

"then get me snacks."

"get them your damn self." i shot back.

noah rolled his eyes. "can't you do something for somebody else for once? you're so damn selfish."

"you're calling me selfish because i won't get you a snack? do you hear yourself right now? you sound like a child." i said.

"whatever, will you please call the flight attendant for me? the button is on your side."

"no, do it yourself." i said stubbornly.

"come on, you can't press a button? i don't want to lean on you to press it." he said.

i rolled my eyes, pressing the button. "there, happy?"

he rolled his eyes back, the flight attendant approaching him. of course, he had to flirt with her when she came up. when did he never flirt with people? she wasn't even that pretty, why was he doing that? surely he could do better. i mean, i'm better.

woah, what? i can't be thinking that. i hate him. hate him more than anything. i'm not jealous.

i kept repeating that to myself over and over again, trying to convince myself that the words were true.

i'm not jealous. i'm not jealous. i'm not. it's fine, it's whatever.

but as the attendant left, i found myself speaking again.

"seriously?" i asked.

"what?" he replied, feigning innocence.

"do you have to flirt with every girl you see? she's not even that pretty."

"aww, is someone jealous?" he teased.

i rolled my eyes, grimacing. "you wish. i would rather swallow glass than be with you." i said, repeating the words i had spoken to nicholas just hours prior.

"the feeling's mutual, princess." he said, giving me a wink.

by the time we made it to our hotel, i was exhausted, frustrated, and hungry. throughout the entire flight, noah would not stop bothering me. asking stupid questions, flirting with girls, jabbing and poking me and other things of the sort.

i went to my hotel room, which i would be sharing with nicholas, doordashing some food and laying on my bed.

"how was the flight?" he asked.

"how do you think?" i replied. "i swear, when i find out who booked the tickets, they're getting an earful."

nicholas bit his lip, trying to hide his laugh, but not doing very well. i looked at him with furrowed brows before it dawned on me.

"you bitch! why would you do that to me?!" i yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

"because the tension is unbearable! you guys need to resolve your issues and fuck already." he said, catching the pillow in his tattooed hands.

i grimaced at the simple thought of doing anything with him. "gross. never. it's not happening." i said.

"you say that now." he said. "how about we make a bet?"

i raised my eyebrow, motioning for him to go on.

"if anything, and i mean anything happens with you and noah, i get $100. kissing, cuddling, sex, whatever."

i shrugged. should be simple enough, right?

"alright. what's in it for me?" i asked.

"if nothing happens throughout the whole tour, then i'll do whatever you want."

"oh, you're gonna regret saying that." i laughed. "be prepared to lose."

he smirked, holding out his hand for me to shake. i shook his hand, and then there was a knock on the door. that must be our food.

i got up, going to open the door and accepting the food from the worker before closing the door and setting it on the bed, giving nicholas his items and sitting down cris-crossed on my bed.

"so, where's the first show?" i asked.

"about an hour or so from here." he said, and i nodded. we were in Ohio right now, so it was probably in Columbus or some place close.

"sold out?" i asked as i took a bite of my food.

"almost." he replied. "if it's not sold out by tomorrow, i'll be surprised. tickets are selling fast as fuck."

"that's good." i said. "you guys have progressed a lot in ten years. that's really fucking good."

nicholas smiled softly. "yeah, i'm just glad we made it this far. when we first got together, we all just thought it would be a fun little pass time and play a couple shows and make a little extra money. never thought it would be this big."

i nodded. "i'm proud of you guys, though. it takes a lot of talent to make it this far."

the two of us talked about random things as we ate our food and watched whatever we could find on the shitty hotel TV.

when we finally went to sleep, i closed my eyes and forced away the thoughts that maybe, just maybe, nicholas could be right.

the next morning, nicholas' 6 am alarm woke the both of us up. we had to be up early the travel the hour to the next city, and it took multiple hours to set up the stage and instruments for the show. i woke up, doing my usual morning routine and pushing away the thoughts of noah that suddenly wanted to flood through my mind. i grabbed my suitcase and nicholas and i walked out to the elevator, heading to the tour bus when we got to the lobby.

the tour bus wasn't the fanciest thing in the world, but it was still pretty damn nice. and of course, being in a bus full of boys who also happened to be stoners, the familiar scent of weed flooded my senses when i walked onto the bus. i put my suitcase on my bunk (which of course just so happened to be below noah's for some god forsaken reason), before sitting down on one of the couches in the back area in front of nick and jolly, and beside noah.

even though i hated him, i always ended up gravitating towards him in any situation. when i was scared or upset, i'd be next to him. we had an odd relationship for two people who claimed they hated each other's guts. on multiple occasions, we had been caught cuddling in our bunks or on the couch. we had these brief moments where every other feeling faded away, leaving just the two of us to do whatever we wanted. we were never sexually active with each other, but there would be an occasional make out session or peck on the lips while we were cuddling. if i was in trouble, i would immediately go to noah or nicholas. they were like my safe places. somewhere i could go to hide away from the world. and just as soon as it began, it ended. we would immediately go back to fighting and hating each other within the next hour. it was a rollercoaster, but it's what we had gotten used to over the years.

nick passed the joint to me and i took a couple hits before passing it to noah, who unusually declined. "woah, you good man?" jolly asked.

noah hummed. "yeah, just thinking. not really in the mood." he said, leaned back against the couch with his hands laced together in his lap. he looked focused, like he was thinking really hard about something. i'd make sure to ask him about it later.

soon, we arrived at the arena. it was empty, save for a few stage workers and other people wandering around. i unpacked my camera backstage, turning it on and checking all the settings as i walked backstage and towards my area in the front of the barriers, humming to myself. i wasn't paying much attention until i collided with something, falling backwards with some sort of liquid all over me and my camera on the ground.

i cursed, not paying any mind to the person who bumped into me and grabbing my camera. it was covered in coffee and the lens was broken. completely unusable. it was completely fried and wouldn't even turn on. "fuck!" i yelled, running my hands through my hair. no camera meant no pictures. no pictures meant a very, very pissed off noah.

"what the hell happened?" a voice spoke, snatching away my attention.

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

artkita family stimboard when ^^??

-🫀 anon ^_^

artkita family stimboard

im SO happy to finally get to do this… this has been in my drafts. okay listen, i think artyom would hate his family and abuse his malewife as much as the next guy… but i am so incredibly depressed i need to imagine them as a happy couple with children.

also for my headcanons just pretend that artyom and nikita got better, moved to america, and became a happy gay couple…❤️

(im actually writing a fanfic similar to this.)

artyom definitely works as a doctor so theyre a little more well off and he likes to spoil their kid(s) with nice little trips or things here and there. he also likes to spoil nikita with nice things.

because hes a doctor hes not home all the time which leaves nikita to do a lot of the work. i feel like he would be a stay at home dad since he has poor mental health and is working on himself #selfloveking but he takes care of the kid(s) nicely.

artyom is the dad they go to for all the advice and logical stuff while nikita is the dad they go to for comfort and help. artyom never got very good at comforting and nikita never got very good at giving advice, so it works out.

they also go to artyom for any kind of medical things. anytime their kid(s) get sick hes the one to help with it and he’ll also help when they get hurt/cut… he will clean the wound and put a bandaid on it just for them. hehehe.

nikita is usually the one to put their kid(s) to bed because artyom is always so busy working/not home and i think theyd make it into a whole production. nice shower/baths and then he would tuck them into bed, but he would always get stuck there telling them stories and such… he ends up falling asleep with them.

i dont care what anyone says about this, but they need to own cats. at least two of them. it would be so cute.

their kids have definitely seem pictures and videos of them from when they were teenagers/kids and they think they looked so cool. one time they even convinced artyom to grow his hair back out which he did a little bit, so then they played with his hair and styled it.

nikita had also introduced them to purgen and gave them his old hoodie which they wear all the time. the band really grew on them and now they listen to the music together all the time.

nikita and artyom have both pushed their kid(s) to pursue music in some way. artyom has definitely taught their kid(s) how to play guitar while nikita taught them how to use certain music equipment and sound things.

they for sure both taught their kid(s) how to speak russian and they use it frequently in their household. they switch between using english and russian all the time in their sentences.

on that note, their kid(s) also grew up watching and reading russian kids shows and stories.

when the kid(s) are having a bad day and are cuddled up with nikita he will run his fingers through their hair or rub their back while he hums the tunes to some of the old songs he used to sing.

when artyom has off and they have someone to watch the kid(s) then him and nikita will go on little dates and trips to have time for themselves. it doesnt matter where, they just enjoy the break.

artyom and nikita definitely had to go through a lot of therapy and work to even get to where they are now. they both got over their issues and artyom cares for nikita a lot. i think nikita would have to take meds for things and would struggle to even get up a lot, so artyom will remind him to take his pills and stuff. when nikita is absolutely stuck in bed artyom will gladly take care of everything around the house.

artyom has an office at home that he works from sometimes, but when hes working in there a lot of the time their kid(s) will interrupt him and try to bother him as much as possible so nikita always has to come and get them out.

at night though when nikita puts the kids to bed and artyoms still working in his office he will go in there and be with him. it starts with him leaning on the desk, then sitting on the arm of the chair, before sitting in his lap and watching him work. its only a matter of time before hew completely distracted and theyre flirting/loving up on each other.

[galvanizedfriend]

Fic Update: Speed Dating [4/4]

Roomates!AU. Friends to lovers. Rom-Com Vibes. AH/AU Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve. (That's how it starts, anyway) --

Caroline doesn't see Elijah again for the next two days. Whatever has brought him to town, he either glides through the apartment like a ghost or their schedules are totally at odds. If not for the extravagantly tailored wool coat hanging by the door and what Caroline has quickly learned is a very distinctive brand of grumpiness on Klaus, she might have thought he'd already left.

Fate seems to be sparing her the embarrassment of coming face to face with him again after that first encounter, and it's probably for the best. But curiosity gnaws at her like an unscratchable itch. Elijah has intrigued her for years, far more than any of Klaus' other siblings. Finally putting a face - well, a little more than a face - to the name was satisfying, but it has fueled her desire to know more.

The Mikaelsons carry an enigmatic allure, a heady mix of glamor and mystery that is equal parts magnetic and intimidating. Despite living with one and being friends with another, the family remains a riddle to Caroline. The more she learns, the murkier it gets. It's maddening. Nothing about them makes sense. Caroline can't even decide if they have a deep dislike for each other or love one another to unhealthy degrees.

After two days, though, she's just about lost hope of bumping into Elijah again. She doubts he'll be staying for much longer, especially with Klaus' cordial show of hospitality. Not that Elijah seemed bothered - being caustic to siblings for no apparent reason seems to be one of those things that are normal by Mikaelson standards. It's just how they operate.

She is mindlessly scrolling through Instagram after yet another grueling shift at the hospital, waiting for the microwave to deliver her sad leftover dinner. Her feed is embarrassingly weak. It's been ages since she even posted anything new. Her last photo was taken on a night out with Tyler, for crying out loud. Should she even keep it there? What's the proper etiquette for when you break up with someone for no earth-shattering reasons, the relationship just fizzling out and running its course? Is it rude to delete all evidence of him from her social media? Is it expected? Would he even care?

Has he deleted her from his feed?

Come to think of it... Is Tyler even seeing anyone? Read the final chapter here

--

Can't believe I'm starting out my years by actually finishing something. 🤧 After 100 years of pain, it's finally done. If anyone still remembers what this is, I hope you enjoy it! Beware of the smut! As always, your comments/kudos/reblogs are very much appreciated and help to feed the monster who should be working but is writing fic instead. Happy 2025, folks! ✨

[hetacon]

I know you've asked for Ravioli/Legend art prompts at the moment, but I'm craving seeing more Wild and Twilight hurt/comfort in your sweet art style lol so I had to ask, just in case you get inspired at a later date (no pressure I hope! 💙). Could I just ask for a sweet hug between them, or a piggy back ride, or Twilight watching Wild with resigned concern while he's stuck in a vision? :3 I just love their relationship soooo much and your beautiful art of Twilight sewing and his soft smile as Wild sits wrapped around his arm makes me tear up so much ahhhhhhh anyway much love to you dear, I'm honestly happy to see any art you create and give to us lol so thanks for reading my derpy rambling either way xD

How about all three? :)))

I will literally never turn down requests for the Wolf Siblings (or Wolf Trio), even if I’m not actively asking for requests! The two of them make me so soft, I love them so much and Twilight taking care of Wild is my favorite thing in the whole wide world! 🥺 And I’m glad I held on to this ask for a little bit before I started working on it, but the explanation for why is a little long so I’ll put it under the cut

These drawings actually ended up being extra special because the first two were my last pieces of 2024 and the third is my first piece of 2025!! What a wonderful way to close out one year and start the next!

(Also thank you so much for the compliments on my art, I’m so glad you like that drawing of Twilight sewing and Wild holding on to him ☺️)

So a little bit of Stan Lore for y’all, I have two siblings: my younger sister who’s a couple years younger than me (who I’ve mentioned before) and my older sibling who’s 7 years older than me, who’s been living on their own for about 8 years after they graduated college. The reason I haven’t mentioned my older sibling before is because I’m no longer on speaking terms with them, and part of this is due to the guy they recently married, the short explanation being that both my sister and I don’t trust him and he gives me bad vibes. My current relationship with my older sibling is actually one of the reasons that Twilight and Wild’s bond means so much to me but that’s a story for another day

Anyways, last Christmas, my older sibling and their husband didn’t come over for our family’s usual get-together, much to my sister and I’s relief, but this most recent Christmas they unfortunately did and so I barely interacted with anyone this year because I didn’t want to risk potentially getting trapped in a conversation with either of them, and I even snuck out of the house for an hour to go on a walk with one of my friends. Their husband even being in my house freaks me out and I’ve had more than one panic attack about just the thought of it so I knew that I needed something to get me through us hosting Christmas dinner this year, and I decided Wild and Twilight art was the perfect thing! Luckily it worked, drawing art of my favorite boys helped me calm down and grounded me! So all that is to say, thank you for sending me this request, I really needed it 💜