#anyways merry christmas lovely people <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[folklore-girl]

might be tearing up a little :(

[mononijikayu]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus — fushiguro toji

“Mom, I saw you kissing Santa Claus last night.” You froze, the coffee cup halfway to your lips as your cheeks turned a warm shade of red. Your husband Toji, on the other hand, lowered his mug, his sharp green eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked at you, one brow raised, fighting the grin threatening to spread across his face. “Oh, really, kid?” Toji said, leaning back casually. “Mommy here was kissing Santa Claus, huh?” You stammered, caught off guard. “W-well, Megumi, I think maybe you were dreaming—" “Nope!” Megumi insisted, crossing his little arms over his chest. “I saw it, mom. You were right by the tree!” 

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, christmas day, santa, parenthood, pet names (babe, love, etc), love, humor, light-hearted, domestic life, slice of life, being in love, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, toddler, family, late night sex, kissing, p-i-v sex, profanity, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: toji seems to me like the type who would have been so good at teasing mamaguro??? like he would definitely be the person that would also wear a santa claus costume just to put megumi's gifts on the tree and then know that megumi would be watching??? anyway i love their tiny family i am so floored every time i write about them. anyway merry fushiguro christmas!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU ALWAYS ADORED CHRISTMAS. Even as a child, the magic of the holiday season was something your mother and father made sure to bring alive for you.

They worked tirelessly to fill each moment with joy, whether it was the way the house glowed with lights or how the scent of fresh-baked cookies lingered in the air. 

Your favorite memories were wrapped in those small, meaningful traditions—sipping hot chocolate while the snow fell softly outside, unwrapping presents by the fire, and gathering together to share stories and laughter. It wasn’t about the gifts or the grandeur, but the warmth of family and the sense of belonging.

Now that you had a family of your own, you were determined to recreate that magic, to pass down those same feelings of joy and love to the people you held closest to your heart. Fushiguro Toji wasn’t raised with those kinds of traditions. 

For him, the holidays were often just another day. Especially when he lived with his family and even after that. There was no desire for a fuss, no fanfare. But when it came to you, he was more than willing to step out of his comfort zone.

Toji might not have admitted it outright, but seeing how much the holidays meant to you made it easy for him to get involved. Whether it was wrestling with tangled strings of lights or holding your hand while you browsed for the perfect tree, he found himself drawn into the excitement. It was a quiet kind of joy for him, watching your face light up with happiness as you brought the season to life.

When your beloved Megumi came along, the holidays became even more special. Toji was quick to embrace his role, even if it meant helping you with putting out the tree or helping to bake cookies that somehow ended up burnt half the time.

He didn’t care if it was messy or chaotic—seeing the laughter, the wide-eyed wonder, and the unfiltered happiness of his family made every effort worth it.

What surprised him most was how much he’s slowly come to love those traditions, too. They weren’t just holidays anymore; they were the foundation of memories he never knew he needed.

He started to look forward to the little things, like staying up late with you to wrap presents or watching Megumi to try to stay awake for Santa, only to fall asleep halfway through their schemes.

Each holiday became another chance to build something new together, a season filled with traditions that were uniquely yours. Toji might have started off doing it for you, but somewhere along the way, he realized he was doing it for himself, too.

After all, your beautiful family meant everything to him, it’s now his safe zone—and these moments were proof that he finally had one worth celebrating.

So on this bright Christmas morning, your comely house was tenderly wrapped in a soft, magical stillness. The gentle hum of the house’s heater and the occasional crackle from the fireplace your husband had set up added to the warmth of the room. 

The Christmas tree glowed with colorful lights, their reflections dancing on the ornaments and the neatly wrapped presents beneath. The faint scent of cinnamon and pine hung in the air, blending with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Young and bright four year old Fushiguro Megumi shuffled into the living room, his favorite blanket dragging behind him like a cape. His small, sleepy frame was bundled in his fuzzy pajamas, the ones with tiny snowflakes printed all over. 

His dark charcoal hair was a tousled mess, sticking out in every direction as if he’d been wrestling with his dreams. He paused near the doorway, rubbing his blue–green eyes, and blinked at the cozy scene before him.

There you were, curled up on the couch with Toji, both of you cradling steaming mugs of coffee. Toji was dressed in his usual casual sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, the other holding his mug. He looked relaxed, his sharp green eyes softened with a rare, unguarded warmth. 

You were tucked into his side, your legs curled beneath you, wearing an oversized Christmas special cardigan and your fuzzy faux fur slippers.

The two of you shared a quiet moment, sipping the coffee your husband brewed and exchanging conversation and content smiles as the early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains.

Megumi's sleepy gaze lit up as he took in the sight of the tree, its glowing lights illuminating the pile of presents waiting for him. His little mouth opened in a gasp, and he looked at the two of you with wide, sparkling blue–green orbs.

“It’s Christmas!” he announced, his voice still tinged with the rasp of sleep but filled with excitement. “It’s Christmas morning!”

You smiled, setting your mug on the coffee table and opening your arms to him. “Good morning, sweetheart. Merry Christmas.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He toddled over, crawling onto the couch and nestling between you and Toji. Toji chuckled, ruffling Megumi’s messy hair affectionately. “Morning, kid. Looks like Santa came through for you this time around, huh?”

Megumi nodded eagerly, his blue–green eyes darting back to the presents under the tree. “Can I open them now?” he asked, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation.

“Not even a good morning first?” Toji teased, arching an eyebrow. But the playful tone in his voice made Megumi giggle. “Too excited, you are.”

“Good morning, Dad.” Megumi said, grinning as he leaned against you. “Good morning, Mom.”

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, his excitement so pure and unfiltered. You kissed the top of his little head, wrapping an arm around him as Toji stood and stretched, walking over to grab the digital camera.

“All right.” Toji said with a smirk, motioning to the tree. “Let’s see what Santa left for you, kid.”

With a delighted squeal, Fushiguro Megumi scrambled off the couch and ran toward the presents, his blanket forgotten on the floor in his excitement.

You and Toji shared a tender glance, his usual smirk softening into a genuine, warm smile. You shake your head, looking at him with much contentment.

He walked back to you, settling beside you on the couch and slipping his hand into yours. His touch was steady, grounding, as the two of you watched Megumi dive headfirst into the pile of gifts.

His bright laughter filled the room, bright and melodic, blending perfectly with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

For a moment, everything was perfect—pure joy radiating from your son as he examined each box like it was a priceless treasure. Then, Megumi suddenly paused, his small frame still in the middle of the living room. 

He turned slowly to face you both, his expression shifting into something unusually serious, his little brows furrowing in a way that was far too mature for his age. When he wasn’t smiling, you were sure your son was quite a young old man in that tiny body. 

You blinked, puzzled, as Toji sat up straighter, his grip on your hand loosening. Before either of you could ask what was wrong, Megumi crossed his arms over his chest, his blanket forgotten entirely now, and declared with absolute certainty:

“Mom, I saw you kissing Santa Claus last night.”

You froze, the coffee cup halfway to your lips as your cheeks turned a warm shade of red. Your husband Toji, on the other hand, lowered his mug, his sharp green eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked at you, one brow raised, fighting the grin threatening to spread across his face.

“Oh, really, kid?” Toji said, leaning back casually. “Mommy here was kissing Santa Claus, huh?”

You stammered, caught off guard. “W-well, Megumi, I think maybe you were dreaming—"

“Nope!” Megumi insisted, crossing his little arms over his chest. “I saw it, mom. You were right by the tree!” 

His little pout was so serious it almost made you laugh. You tried to hold your composure, his cute little glare gleaming at you with the most adorable aggression. He looked too much like Toji when he was like this. And that had made you even more adoring of him in this way.

Toji’s chuckle deepened as he leaned back on the couch, completely unbothered. “Cookies and milk are standard, kid.” he said, shrugging casually. “But Santa? He’s a special guest. Sometimes he deserves a little extra appreciation.”

Megumi tilted his head, his little face scrunching in thought. “Like a hug?” he asked, glancing back at the presents under the tree, though his curiosity still lingered.

“Sure, sure.” Toji said, smirking as he threw a glance your way. “Or something like that.”

You nudged him with your elbow, your cheeks heating up again. “Toji, that’s not something you should be jumping into.” you whispered under your breath, giving him a look that was equal parts exasperated and amused.

Toji just grinned and leaned in closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear. “What? I didn’t even mention the mistletoe.” His tone was full of playful mischief, and you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. 

“Mom? Dad?” Megumi’s voice broke through, his tiny hands clutching a brightly wrapped box as he looked up at you both. “Can I open this one first?”

You gave a soft laugh, glad for the distraction. “Of course, sweetheart.” you said, smiling warmly at him.

Toji reached over, ruffling Megumi’s hair again as the boy plopped down in front of the tree. “Go for it, kid. Let’s see what Santa left you.”

“Hmm. Okay.” he finally muttered, turning his attention to the colorful boxes waiting for him.

Megumi’s attention shifted entirely to the gift in his hands, his little fingers working furiously to tear the wrapping paper. You let out a breath, glancing at Toji, who was still watching you with that infuriatingly smug look.  His hands wrapped against your shoulders. 

He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kissing Santa, huh, babe?” he teased, leaning in close. “Got any more Christmas spirit for me?”

Your face burned as you playfully shoved him, your smile betraying you. “Shut up, Toji.” you whispered, though the giggle that escaped ruined the effect.

“Guess Santa’s the lucky one this year, don’t you think?” he murmured.

You bit your lip, shaking your head but unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer as he looked at you. “But you love me anyway.”

“Merry Christmas, babe.” Toji murmured, stealing a quick kiss.

“Merry Christmas, love.” you whispered back, heart full and cheeks still warm.

══════════════════

TOJI SAID HE PLANNED EVERYTHING. And knowing how much you trusted your husband, you do believe him. He hasn’t ever failed you before, after all. Your husband wasn’t going to fail you now either. He said he’s going to make it happen and he will. 

The night before Christmas was serene, the kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The only sounds were the faint crackle of the fireplace and the occasional rustle of branches as the tree swayed slightly under the weight of its ornaments. 

The vibrant living room glowed softly, bathed in the colorful twinkle of Christmas lights that reflected off the shiny ribbons and bows of some of the presents you had already wrapped and bought for Megumi and each other. All Toji has to do now is add the other ones you bought for Megumi.

You had just finished cleaning up after dinner, your feet padding lightly across the wooden floor as you straighten a few stray decorations. A hum of curiosity pulled you toward the living room, and when you peeked around the corner, you couldn’t hold back a small smile from appearing on your pinkish lips.

There he was— Fushiguro Toji, crouched by the tree, fully dressed in a Santa Claus suit. The red fabric clung to his massively broad frame, the white trim looking comically out of place against his rugged demeanor. 

The bright red hat was askew on his head, barely covering his wild, dark hair, and the sight of him muttering multiple times under his breath while adjusting a precariously balanced present was nothing short of endearing.

“Damn this tree’s too small.” Toji grumbled, carefully shoving a particularly large box further under the branches. “How the hell does Santa Claus even do this without knocking everything over? Like, this is just an insane operation for a break in. Mission impossible even!”

You stifled a laugh, leaning against the doorway as you crossed your arms. “You’re really committing to this Santa Claus thing, huh?”

Toji glanced up sharply, his green eyes narrowing at you in mock irritation before softening into a lopsided smirk. You sighed, smiling as he enjoys taking in the sight of you like this. He has never thought he would ever have something as enjoyable as this life. And he always has you to thank for it.

“Caught me, babe.” he said, straightening up and dusting his hands off. “Santa Claus really had to work harder for this. And I gotta commit like he does, babe. I mean, this is harder than it looks, you know.”

You stepped into the room, your gaze sweeping over the scene. “You’re supposed to look jolly, not grumpy, love. Kids don’t want an angry Santa Claus.”

Toji snorted, tugging at the crooked hat and tossing it onto the couch. “You’re lucky I even agreed to wear this, babe.” he said, gesturing at the suit with a faint grimace. “This thing’s itchy as hell. How the hell did people wear this without having to scratch everywhere? Even my crotch feels itchy.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to adjust one of the presents he’d just placed. “You’re not exactly selling the magic of Christmas, love.”

He leaned against the arm of the couch, his smirk turning sly. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m doing pretty good. The kid’s gonna love it in the morning. He’s going to have fun about Santa bringing in lotsssss of cool presents.”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “And what about me? Does Santa Claus have any surprises for me? I mean….I should get gifts too, right?”

Toji’s grin widened as he pushed off the couch and sauntered toward you, his voice dropping to a playful, sensual murmur. “Actually, yeah. Look up, babe.”

Your eyes followed his gaze, landing on the tiny sprig of mistletoe hanging above your heads. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. You looked at him with so much adoration, you couldn’t help it. He just made you feel giddy every single day. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

He took another step closer, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe. But I’m also a hardworking Santa Claus. And Santa likes to get paid for his trouble. I’m sure this pretty lady in front of him will ease his troubles.”

You rolled your eyes playfully once more, your lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Naughty Santa, aren’t you?” you muttered, leaning up just enough to close the gap between you. “What about Mrs. Claus?”

“Don’t have one.” He smiles down at you, his thumb pressing against your lips. “Would you wanna volunteer to be one, pretty woman?”

You laughed aloud at his words. “Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?”

“Well, if you’d let me, then I will.” He grins at you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you.”

“Good. Santa’s happy about that.”

“Well, we only want that, don’t we?” You smiled at him.

“Hm, very great for securing your kid a spot on my gift list.”

You giggled at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous, future Mrs. Claus.” 

You laughed at his words again, which made him very happy. Your husband Toji happily pressed hands forward and found your waist as he met you halfway, his sly lips brushing against yours in a passionate kiss that was far too warm for such a chilly night. 

You pushed deeper, kissing him back, pulling him closer to you. When you finally pulled back to take a breath, his grin was smug as it was shameless, his bright  green eyes gleaming with the endless joy that comes with having you as his beloved. 

“Best payment I’ve ever gotten. By far.” he murmured, his voice soft but smug.

You laughed, swatting at his chest as you stepped away. “Go finish your job, Santa Claus. There’s still a tree that needs all the presents to set up for the good kid.”

He chuckled, watching you with a lingering smile as you walked away. “Yes, ma’am. But don’t think this is over.” he called after you, his tone full of promise.

“I look forward to it, Santa!”

══════════════════

OF COURSE YOU’LL NEVER FORGET ABOUT LAST NIGHT. You could still feel your legs sore and your throat full of his pleasurable bites. But that wasn’t important right now, even though, of course it felt really good. Santa was really good with blessings. But that wasn’t the point. 

You could feel your cheeks turn redder and your ears more scarlet. You tried to calm yourself down as you continued to clear out stuff in the kitchen. The cookies were more important. You had guests coming over.

Of course, on the other side of the wall, the living room was alive with Megumi’s excited giggles and the joyful chaos of wrapping paper flying in every direction.  His precious little voice carried as he marveled at each gift, holding up toys and books like treasures. 

You peeked at him from the kitchen, your heart swelling at how happy he was. Your son’s joys were the reason you always worked so hard at the prosecutor’s office. And he was, genuinely, the happiest little boy. And that made everything feel like it paid off.

You were in the middle of arranging cookies on a festive plate when you felt it: a pair of strong arms sliding around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. The scent of pine and the faintest trace of cologne told you exactly who it was before he even spoke.

“Toji, love.” you started, a hint of exasperation in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“Mmm nothing.” he murmured against your ear, his voice rich and teasing. He grins slowly as he catches a peak of the hickeys from your side, hidden in the cardigan. “Just came to say thank you for, you know... last night.”

Your hands froze, the cookie you were holding slipping onto the counter as heat rushed to your cheeks. You were just trying to forget about it now but the images started to flood your head once more as your husband nibbles against your ear.

“Toji, please.” you hissed, glancing nervously toward the doorway to make sure Megumi was too busy with his presents to overhear. The last thing you need is to traumatize your little son.“Not now.”

But Fushiguro Toji, as always, was undeterred. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips grazing just close enough to your ear to make you shiver. He hums against your skin, bright eyes looking at you with wanton affection.

“What? I’m just saying Santa Claus didn’t just get a kiss under the mistletoe. I mean he enjoyed it really well too—”

You spin your head toward him, your bright eyes wide as you whisper with embarrassment. “Will you stop? Love, our son’s on the other side of the wall and—”

Toji only grinned, his hold on you tightening slightly as he leaned in closer. “Come on, sweetheart. Admit it. Santa Claus always deserves a little something extra for working so hard, don’t you think?”

“You sly fox of a husband.” you hissed, swatting at his arm as your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. “You are impossible. I swear, Toji.”

He let out a low, rumbling laugh, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “You’re cute when you’re all embarrassed like this, babe.” he teased, nuzzling the side of your neck in a way that made your heart skip. “But I wasn’t lying, you know. Best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Your heart melted at his words, even as you tried to maintain your composure. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, love.” you muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as a small smile crept onto your face. “Otherwise, it’d be a different story.”

Toji shifted, leaning back just enough to study your beautiful expressions. His bright green eyes were soft, a rare tenderness shining in them that made your breath catch. The air of joy blossoming in his chest ever so fondly when he looks at you more. 

“Lucky, huh?” he said, a hint of sincerity beneath the teasing. “Nah. I’m the luckiest guy every day I wake up to you. Every day, every minute, every second. Every day. For forever. I’m the luckiest guy on earth, babe.”

Your face burned hotter, and you turned back to the cookies to hide your expression from him. You could feel your heart making flips and jumps against the wall of your chest. He’s always so good at making you feel this way. 

You were really going to be overwhelmed for all your life with how much he always makes you feel the universe with his love and tenderness. You were always going to be falling in love with this man over and over again like this. You sighed, admitting defeat to him. 

 “You’re ridiculous, love.” you mumbled, but the warmth blossoming in your chest betrayed your words. “Really….”

He couldn’t help but chuckled again, reaching around you to snag a cookie off the plate. You gasp as you try to stop him, but he lifts it up and you pout at him, knowing you can’t reach it. He snickers at you. You turn back and continue putting away the other cookies.

“That’s why you love me, babe.” Toji said, his voice smooth and teasing as he took another bite of the cookie, his smirk practically glowing with satisfaction. 

Before you could muster a response, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so gentle it made your heart flutter. “Don’t work too hard. Megumi and I are waiting for you, okay? Still got some presents left for us to open.”

You watched him stroll back into the living room, his broad frame relaxed, his laughter already mingling with Megumi’s excited chatter. His voice carried back to you, warm and playful, as he greeted your son again, seamlessly joining him in exploring his new toys. 

The sound of Megumi’s giggles and Toji’s deep chuckles filled the house, creating a melody that could warm even the coldest snowy, winter morning. It was what you wanted to wake up to every single day. It was all you could ever want for all of time.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, leaning back against the counter as a soft smile tugged at your lips. It was uncontrollable, this joy, this love that bubbled up in your chest. This was a love that had a place to go and blossom here in this place, in this family. In this life you have.

Ridiculous, you thought with a shake of your head. Toji was ridiculous. But he was also your, the most precious of men who made even the simplest moments unforgettable, who filled your life with laughter, warmth, and love.

And your precious Megumi. Your sweet, bright boy, was the perfect little light who completed the picture. Everything about life made sense when you met Toji and had Megumi together. Life began when you had this. And you knew he would agree with that sentiment.

You looked out at the scene before you, the two of them sprawled on the floor amid wrapping paper and toys, Megumi pointing animatedly at something as Toji nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

It was so small, so ordinary—and yet it was everything. It meant the world to you. No, you shook your head. It meant the universe to you. And you would never trade this for anything in the world.

You felt it all in that moment: gratitude, contentment, and a profound sense of love. How lucky you were, to have this life, this family. This was your everything. And no matter how many lifetimes you could dream of, you knew there would never be anything more beautiful than this.

“Babe, Megumi wants his mommy!” Toji’s voice called from the living room, pulling you from your thoughts.

You chuckled, pushing off the counter and heading toward the sound of your favorite voices. “Coming, love!”

As you stepped into the living room, Megumi beamed up at you, his hands full of his latest toy, while Toji looked over with a smirk that was both mischievous and affectionate. You settled in beside them, feeling their warmth wrap around you like a hug. 

Life wasn’t just great to live—it was perfect. 

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

══════════════════

TOJI'S TAKING ALL THE OPPORTUNITIES HE CAN GET. But if you were being honest, so were you. Last night wasn't enough for you to get your fill. When your husband is someone like Toji, how could you?

The house was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the floorboards as the winter wind pressed against the walls.

Megumi had been tucked into bed after a long, laughter-filled Christmas dinner, his tiny snores signaling that he was sound asleep. The evening had been perfect—filled with warmth, love, and memories you’d cherish forever.

Now, it was just the two of you.

Toji leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, watching as you pulled off the festive sweater you'd worn all day. His gaze was heavy, but not with exhaustion—it was something else, something that made your skin tingle.

"You finally sitting still for once?" he teased, his voice low, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that followed. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I was waiting for you to catch up."

That was all the invitation he needed. Toji crossed the room in a few long strides, his arms circling your waist as he pulled you close. His lips found yours almost immediately, hungry, but unhurried. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, and for once, it felt like you did.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and eventually settling at your hips, holding you firmly against him. The heat between you both grew, sparking like the fire you’d left burning in the living room.

"I’ve been waiting all day for this, babe." he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and filled with need.

"Me too." you admitted, your breath hitching as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of soft, teasing kisses that made your knees weak.

The world outside didn’t matter anymore. Not the snow piling up on the windowsill, not the mess of dishes waiting in the kitchen, and certainly not the clock ticking down the last hours of Christmas Day. All that mattered was the way Toji made you feel. You always feel so seen, loved, desired when it comes to your beloved husband.

He guided you toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second. The night was yours, a stolen moment of intimacy in the chaos of life.

And as his lips found yours again, you knew this was the best gift you could have asked for—time together, just the two of you, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s arms.

Toji’s arm slid right back around your neck, firm yet careful, pulling you closer as his lips claimed yours once more. The way he touched you sent shivers cascading down your spine, every sensation heightened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

His grip was confident, possessive, and it made your pulse quicken as pleasure rippled through you like a rising tide. Each kiss, each graze of his hands against your skin, ignited something deep within you, leaving no room for anything else but the heat building between you.

He knew exactly how to unravel you, how to make you melt under his touch, and he didn’t hold back. He never holds back. Not when it was you he has to make love to. Making love to you was his church. It was his patronage. It was his repentance, it was his atonement. It was his salvation. His love for you was his salvation.

“Toji…” Your voice was barely a whisper, a mixture of breathlessness and yearning.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with something raw and unspoken. His thumb brushed gently along your jawline as his other arm stayed firmly around your neck, keeping you grounded in the moment.

“You doin' so good, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough and low, sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

The way he looked at you, the way he held you. Everything about it was overwhelming in the best way. Your body responded instinctively, arching into him as the pleasure coursed through every nerve, building higher with each kiss, each touch, each whispered word.

Time seemed to blur as he continued, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as though savoring every moment with you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. This was all there was right now, just the two of you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of each other.

Toji’s lips trailed down to your neck, his hot breath against your skin making you shiver. He knew exactly where to kiss, where to linger, drawing soft gasps from you as his hand caressed your side, sliding over the curves he loved to touch.

The pressure of his arm around your neck wasn’t rough, but good enough to make you feel the tension of his touch against your flesh. Everything about his touch, it was deliberate, possessive, reminding you that he wanted every inch of you, body and soul.

Your hands roamed over his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going. The sensations rolled through you like waves, each one stronger than the last, your body responding to his every move. You could feel the heat of him against you, the tension between you building with every touch, every kiss.

“Toji…” you murmured again, your voice trembling with need.

“Hmm?” He didn’t stop, his lips finding that spot just below your ear that made your breath hitch. “Say it again, babe.” he whispered, his tone dark and teasing, sending a fresh jolt of desire through you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging gently, and the low chuckle that escaped his lips vibrated against your skin, sending shivers cascading down your spine. The sound was rich, deep, and filled with promise, igniting a fire inside you that grew with every passing second.

His lips trailed along your jawline, slow and deliberate, before finding the sensitive curve of your neck. He lingered there, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your breath hitch.

Your body press instinctively closer to him. The warmth of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth against your skin, left you trembling, a quiet gasp spilling from your lips.

His hand slid lower, the roughness of his palm contrasting deliciously against your soft skin. His touch was teasing at first, featherlight, exploring, testing your limits.

But then it grew bolder, more certain, as he found the places that made you quiver beneath him. Every brush of his fingertips sent sparks shooting through your body, the intensity of it building with each moment.

You arched into him, desperate for more, the ache between you growing unbearable. A soft moan escaped you, unbidden but unstoppable, and the sound seemed to ignite something in him.

He let out another low, satisfied laugh, his breath hot against your neck as he murmured, “You sound so good, baby. Don’t stop.”

The pleasure rolled through you like a tidal wave, crashing over every part of you until all you could feel was him. It was all his touch, his heat, his weight against you.

The room seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you locked in this intimate dance, your bodies moving together in perfect, unspoken harmony.

Your skin grew slick with sweat, the heat between you almost unbearable but so, so good. Every movement, every touch, every kiss only pulled you deeper into him, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

“Toji…” you whispered, your voice trembling with need, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes smoldering with desire as he leaned in close.

“I’ve got you, babe. I got you.” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion.

And with those words, he claimed your lips again, pouring every ounce of his passion into the kiss. His hand tangled in your hair, his other still exploring, holding you firmly against him as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Toji’s breath hitched as he stilled, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. The heat of your body wrapped tightly around him, the soft, rhythmic flutter of your walls making him groan low in his throat.

It was almost too much for you, how big he was, how whole you feel when he fit you to the hilt. Everything about it the way you felt, the way your body seemed to pulse and cling to him, drawing him deeper into the moment. It all just felt too good.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, anchoring himself, trying to hold onto the frayed edges of his control. A thought flickered in his mind, unbidden and primal: Can I even last long with this?

The idea sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. He didn’t need to move—didn’t need to thrust or grind or do anything but stay right where he was, utterly consumed by the way you felt around him.

The subtle contractions of your body, the way you tightened around him and the way he fluttered tightly against your walls, that was all enough to drive him mad. You were still as you were before, you were paradise in every sense of the word.

“Toji…love....oh—” you whispered, your voice a mix of need and wonder, your nails dragging lightly down his back. The sound of his name on your lips only made it harder for him to hold back.

“Shit, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough and strained. “You’re gonna kill me like this.”

He pressed his forehead harder against yours, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he tried to wrestle with the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans can only grow as he pushed in and out in a more passionate speed.

“I swear… I could come just like this, babe.” he admitted, his voice low and ragged. “The way you’re squeezing me so good, babe… you feel so damn good.”

The confession sent a shiver through you, your body responding instinctively, and he groaned again, his fingers digging into your hips as if to ground himself. He wanted to move, to chase that inevitable high.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose the sheer intensity of the moment—didn’t want to lose the way it felt to just be inside you, connected in every way. He still needed to last a little bit more, he wanted this moment to last.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he murmured, “You’re perfect. You know that?” His voice was raw, filled with both reverence and desperation.

And as he stayed there, lost in the heat and intimacy, he wondered if he could ever get enough of this—of you. Every sensation was heightened, every second stretching into eternity, until nothing else existed but him.

The overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. In his arms, you felt completely unraveled, utterly cherished, and entirely his. The world outside faded completely—just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet intimacy of your shared space.

Toji’s movements grew more deliberate, his bruised lips finding your own again as he deepened the kiss, his arm around your neck keeping you anchored to him. His tongue wrestling against yours as he tried to thrust deeper inside your mouth, earning a groan from your throat.

The way he held you, the way he touched you—it wasn’t just desire; it was love, raw and unfiltered, pouring into every moment.

Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure he brought you, and you clung to him, lost in the heat of the moment. Toji pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke.

“You’re mine, babe.” he whispered, the words heavy with emotion and promise.

His calloused hand brushing your cheek as his eyes met yours. And in that moment, you knew there was no place you’d rather be than here, with him, wrapped up in the intensity of his love.

"Always." You whispered back to him.

He felt satisfied with that as he pushed deeper into you.

You couldn't speak words anymore by the end of that.

The world was cold from the snowing echoes, but you were warm.

Warm in the pleasure of the husband you loved the most.

══════════════════

epilogue

The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, your breathing finally steady after what had been a Christmas evening full of all sorts of intimacy and bright warm laughter.

Fushiguro Toji, ever the opportunist, propped himself up on one elbow, the smirk on his face practically devilish as his fingers began tracing patterns on your bare shoulder.

“You know, babe.” he started, his voice low and teasing, “I’m thinking Santa deserves a little overtime bonus for all his hard work tonight.”

You turned your head, arching a brow as you caught the glint in his eye. “Overtime? Didn’t we just finish the main shift? Both last night and tonight?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of energy left, babe.” he murmured, leaning in to nip playfully at your ear. “The question is… do you?”

You opened your mouth to reply, maybe to tease him back, but the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway made you both freeze. Your eyes darted toward the door, which creaked open just enough to reveal a mop of messy black hair and the outline of a sleepy little boy clutching his favorite stuffed animal.

“Mom? Dad?” Megumi’s voice was tiny, wobbling just enough to tug at your heartstrings. “I had a nightmare…”

Toji let out a low groan, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he muttered, “Of course you did, kid. Of course you did.”

“Shush!” you hissed, elbowing him lightly before sitting up and pulling the blanket around yourself. “Come here, sweetheart.” you said softly, patting the edge of the bed.

Megumi shuffled in, his little feet barely making a sound as he climbed up onto the bed and wriggled his way into the space between you and Toji. He immediately buried his face against your side, his stuffed animal squished between the two of you.

“What happened, bud?” you asked, stroking his charcoal hair gently.

“There was a big, scary monster…” Megumi mumbled, his voice muffled against your side. “It chased me, and it almost got me.”

You looked at your husband who sighed back at you. Toji pushed himself up onto one elbow, running a hand through his disheveled hair, looking towards his little son.

“A monster, huh?” he asked, his tone light but laced with mock seriousness. “Did it look like a giant turkey? ‘Cause I told you eating all that stuffing was a risky move.”

Megumi pulled his face away just long enough to glare at his dad, his little brow furrowed in unimpressed indignation. “No, Dad.” he said with a hint of exasperation. “It wasn’t a turkey. It was scary!”

“Scarier than me?” Toji teased, flexing his arm dramatically as if that would somehow settle the matter.

You shot him a look, biting back a laugh. “Toji, love. Please.” you warned softly, shaking your head.

“Okay, okay.” Toji relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Megumi’s hair. “Listen, kid, no monsters are getting past me. You know that, right? They take one look at your old man and run for the hills.”

Megumi’s little body relaxed against you, his small hand clutching tightly at your shirt. “Promise?” he whispered.

Toji ruffled his hair. “Promise. Now get some sleep. You’ve got another day of playing with all those presents tomorrow, and I don’t want to hear any complaints about being too tired.”

Megumi let out a sleepy little hum of agreement, his breathing evening out as he drifted off within minutes. Toji flopped back onto his pillow with a long sigh, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“So, what do you think? Nightmare slayer and round-two initiator all in one night? I’m a man of many talents.”

You smirked, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re also a man with a very tired wife and a son snoring between us. Maybe tomorrow, Toji.”

Toji groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. “Tomorrow? I’m not getting any younger over here.”

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you settled back down, pulling the blanket up over the three of you. “Goodnight, Santa.” you teased, nudging him lightly.

Toji huffed but couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned to wrap an arm protectively over both you and Megumi. He looked at you both warmly.

“Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas to me." he muttered, his voice soft and warm. And despite his earlier grumbling, you could feel the contentment radiating from him.

For Fushiguro Toji, there was no better gift than this—his family, safe and sound, wrapped in the warmth of a love he’d never stop cherishing. Life was great.

[stargazsblog]

how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.1 the bet

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.

ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.

ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

note: hi guys! this is the first chapter and I'm so excited this is just about how the bet starts nothing crazyyyy YET… i can’t wait to write more! merry christmas!! <3

masterlist

“I still don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” you muttered, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. The muffled thump of bass from inside the house was enough to make your ears ring, even from a distance. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer mixed with the crisp winter breeze, making you wrinkle your nose.

“Because,” Shoko said, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Deep down, you know you’ll have fun if you let yourself.” she grinned at you.

You side-eye her, “Have fun?, this is a party of drunk idiots I have to pretend I like.”

“Don't be dramatic.” Shoko rolled her eyes, patting your shoulder as she let you go. ”You spend too much time brooding alone in your dorm, anyway.”

“I call it peace,” you shot back, but Shoko was already halfway up the stairs.

The door swung open before either of you could reach it. A group of boys tumbled out, laughing and shouting, nearly knocking you over in the process. You stepped aside just in time, muttering a curse under your breath

The heat of the crowded house hit you immediately. The air was thick, almost suffocating, with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and overly sweet perfume. Bodies pressed together as people danced to the relentless beat of the music.

“Come on, let's get a drink,” she said, grabbing your wrist and leading you towards the kitchen. You stuck close to her, pushing past people in the crowd and avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

“This is a disaster,” you muttered as you reached the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Shoko handed you a bottle of water before pouring herself something that smelled suspiciously strong.

“It's just a party,” she replied.

As she took a sip, she leaned against the counter, her eyes scanning the room again. “There he is,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Your gaze followed hers, landing on a familiar figure sprawled out on the couch in the corner of the living room. Ryomen Sukuna.

He was sitting on the couch like he owned the place, his long legs stretched out, one arm casually draped over the back of the sofa. He was wearing a white shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the toned muscles underneath. His eyes scanned the room with practiced boredom, like none of it was worth his time.

A girl was sitting on his lap, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling as if he’d just told her the funniest joke in the world. She leaned closer, whispering something in his ear, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, his gaze drifted and then locked onto yours.

He grinned, a slow, cocky smirk that made something in your chest tighten not with attraction, but with irritation. It was the kind of grin that said he knew exactly the effect he had on people and loved to watch them crumble under it. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Caught you staring

As you looked away, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. But you didn’t turn back. You weren’t interested.

“Great,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your water bottle. “Now I have to burn this memory from my brain.”

Shoko laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to admit, he’s hot.”

“He’s insufferable.”

“Hot and insufferable. The best combination.”

“I’ll leave right now.” you turned heel, but Shoko grabbed your arm, stopping you from your track.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

Your jaw tightened, but you stayed put, watching as Sukuna leaned back even further, his eyes still fixed on you. The girl on his lap pouted, clearly annoyed at his lack of attention, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I hate him,” you muttered under your breath. The words came out bitter, but they were true. “Did I mention that before?”

“Yeah, like hundreds of times,” She replied, laughing “You really hate him, huh?”

“I just don’t get how people fall for his act,” you said.

Shoko shrugged. “Like I said, he’s hot. People like hot.”

“Hot doesn’t excuse being an asshole,” you murmured, crossing your arms. “What’s his deal, anyway? Does he just sit there all night waiting for people to grovel at his feet?”

“Pretty much,” Shoko said with a shrug. “But he’s good at it. Watch.”

As if on cue, another girl approached him, drink in hand. She leaned down, her lips close to his ear as she said something you couldn’t hear. Sukuna smirked, his attention finally shifting away from you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“See? he’s harmless,” Shoko said.

“Harmless,” you repeated, your voice with sarcasm. “Sure.”

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his charm.”

“Good,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not about to start. I don’t need someone like him in my life.”

“You gonna keep her there all night?” Suguru asked, nodding towards the girl on Sukuna’s lap.

Sukuna smirked tilting his head back. “why not? She's comfortable here.” the girl giggled again, clearly tipsy, but Sukuna's attention has already wandered. His eyes scanned the room lazily, taking in the usual suspect, drunk athletes, and the occasional out-of-place loner. Until it landed on you.

You stood in the kitchen, keeping your distance from the chaos, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed. Your eyes roamed over the room, observing, until they met his. He caught you looking, and a smirk tugged at his lips. When you quickly looked away, he let out a low chuckle.

His friends noticed this.

“You’ve been staring at her for the last ten minutes, what’s the deal?” Geto voice cut thought Sukuna’s thoughts, and he glanced over at his friend.

“I’m not staring,” Sukuna retorted smoothly, his tone laced with nonchalance as he effortlessly lifted the girl off his lap. She let out an irritated groan, before stalking off in a huff. “Just observing,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Geto teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way you're staring at her, that’s not the ‘I’m observing’ look you usually give what’s going on with you.”

Sukuna’s gaze flickered to you once more. “She’s different,” He had noticed you around campus—the way you never spared him a second glance when you passed by, completely unaffected by his presence. Once, he’d even tried to strike up a conversation, but you had brushed past him without so much as acknowledging him, as though he were invisible.

Gojo chuckled “Different? Dude, that girl is the only one who doesn’t drool over you.”

Sukuna’s lip curled into a sly grin. “So what?”

“So,” Suguru continues, crossing his arms, leaning against the couch. “you’ve never met a girl who doesn’t fall for your charm, right? You’ve been with everyone but her? she couldn’t care less.”

Gojo snorted. “And she’s probably the only one on campus. That’s gotta sting.”

Sukuna scoffed, leaning forward slightly. “Please. She is probably playing hard to get.”

Geto exchanged a glance with Gojo, and then a mischievous grunt flashed his eyes. “All alright, how about we make this interesting? We give you ten days.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, “Ten days?’

“Yeah,” he said with a sly smile “Ten days you make her fall in love with you.”

Sukana let out a short laugh, but the challenge already sounded fun to him. He never was the type to back down from a game. “You think I need ten days?”

Suguru shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “It’d be easier if it were any other girl. But this one… she’s too—what’s the word? Stubborn. Definitely not into guys like you,” he said, “She won’t be an easy win. That’s what makes it interesting, though.”

Satoru chimes in “Yeah, man. You can’t just use your looks and charm this time. You’re gonna have to actually work for it.”

Sukana's eyes flicked back to you for a split second. You were standing there unaware of the conversation that was happening a few feet away from you. “Ten days huh?” he murmured.

“Ten days” Gojo repeated. “And if you fail you lose. It's as simple as that.”

His expression turned darker, the idea of him not winning seemed unthinkable. He wasn’t just going to prove them wrong he was going to show them that no one could resist him.

Gojo leaned back, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, glancing at Sukuna. “You can't be seen with other girls. It’s gotta look real, after all.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted slightly, an eyebrow raised in silent challenge. “You think I need rules to make this work?” he asked.

Geto gave a small nod. “It’s just to make sure no one gets suspicious. You’ll need to actually put in the effort.”

Sukuna smirked, unfazed. “Fine. I’ll play by your rules, but don’t expect me to go easy on her.”

Ten days to make you fall for him. The girl who wouldn’t give him the time of the day. The girl who didn’t care about his reputation. The girl who has no idea what was coming for her.

Unknowingly, you had already been pulled into his game.

“You think his shirt could be any tighter,” Shoko muttered, nodding towards a guy who was flexing across the room.

You snorted. “Pretty sure it's painted on.” leaning against the kitchen counter. Shoko grinned at your words, sipping from her cup.

The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, you leaned against the counter sipping on your water. Shoko perched on the edge of the sink, swinging her legs as she talked. You were nodding and listening to the story she was telling you. You hear a group of people walking in the kitchen, their laughter loud and careless. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. The weight of his presence pressed into the room like a rebound heartbeat. Ryomen Sukuna.

His graze swept the kitchen, it lingered on you for a moment too long, and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Shoko,” one of his friends called out, his tone playful, but almost teasing. “Come help us with something. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and them. “Fun, huh? i doubt it.”

“It’s better than being stuck in here,” another white-haired friend chimed in.

She rolled her eyes but slid off the counter anyway, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said with a wink before following them out of the kitchen. And then, it was just you and him.

Great.

Sukuna didn't say anything, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, as he leaned against the counter across from you.

“Guess it’s just us now,” he said finally his voice low and smooth.

You didn't look up, keeping your focus on your drink “Lucky me,” you replied, your tone dry.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

When you finally glanced up, he was much closer than you’d expected. His tall frame leaned casually against the counter opposite you. Up close, the details of his features were almost overwhelming—the sharp line of his jaw, the subtle curve of his lips that formed an infuriatingly smug smirk, and the mess of his hair falling carelessly over his forehead. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you wanted to. He was hot—like, really hot.

“You’re not exactly the first guy to try this,” you said coolly, taking another sip from your drink, your gaze steady as you met his.

Sukuna tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Try what?” he asked.

“Whatever you’re doing right now,” you replied, “the whole brooding, mysterious thing. It’s not as original as you think.”

He laughed at that, his head tilting back just enough to expose the line of his throat. It wasn’t often that people spoke to him like this, you realized. Most would have thrown themselves at him.

“You’re sharp,” he said, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. The scent of him hits you. “I like that,” he added, his voice low, a hint of approval in his tone as his gaze lingered on you.

You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by him. “And I don’t care.”

He paused not being he was offended, but because he wasn’t used to being dismissed, even by someone who didn't so much flinch under his gaze.

He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Most people would kill to be in your position right now,” his tone quieter now, almost intimate, as his eyes locked onto yours.

You smirked, setting your drink on the counter behind you. “Then maybe you should go find ‘most people,’” you replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.”

The silence hung in the air. Sukuna’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, then slowly, his gaze dipped to your lips. The smirk on his face faltered just slightly as if he was plotting something in his mind, before it returned—sharper, more amused.

“You’re different,” he murmured finally, his voice low, the words lingering in the air as his gaze stayed fixed on your lips, the tension between you growing with each passing second.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” you asked.

“Take it however you want,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, his gaze still lingering on your lips as if he was waiting for your next move.

His gaze made it hard to look away. But you forced yourself to break the connection, turning your focus elsewhere. You weren’t sure what Sukuna was trying to do—charm you, challenge you, or maybe a little of both.

“I’m not interested in you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said, your tone firm, making sure he knew you weren’t fazed by his presence.

He tilted his head, his smirk fading for a moment. He just looked at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if he were trying to read you.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice low and confident, before turning and walking out.

You let out a slow breath, the heat of his presence lingering in the air. Sukuna wasn’t used to being ignored, and for him, that only made you more of a challenge.

But you weren’t here to play his game.

At least, that’s what you thought.

taglist: @clp-84 @ssetsuka @lymsfm @monic19 @bol0-de-morang0 @strxberryicecream @r0ckst4rjk @gojocumslut @elliebelliegi @kazuuhali @luna-v-roiya @sussiesushi @nakiich @mourart7 @neuvilletteswife4ever @rusted-dolly @blueyesuguru @lillycore @yourhornysister @bnbaochauuu

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman,

Just got out of your reading of A Christmas Carol and we (my mom, aunt, and I) absolutely loved it! We also loved the little poem at the end. I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind.

1.) Is A Christmas Carol your favorite Christmas story and if it isn’t, what is? 2.) How did you learn to speak for long periods of time without stumbling? It was very impressive, especially to someone like me who tends to get very nervous when speaking in public.

3.) To that last point, do have any tips for dealing with anxiety before talking in front of people?

Thank you again for the fantastic performance and I hope you have a Merry Christmas!

1) I think my favourite Xmas story is O. Henry's Gifts of the Magi

2) I guess it's what I do.

3) I was terrified tonight before it started and just as terrified while i was doing it if I stopped to think. You do it anyway.

[sashiavi]

Merry Late Christmas M'Loves! Thank you @birdielouwho for inviting me to this little Kinkmas Event~

And thank you to my wifey Spirit for listening to my bs and helping me get through this monster </3

Sebastian x Reader - Trapped in a Closet With Your 'Unrequited' Crush, Sebastian at a Holiday Party~

Warnings : Tipsy/drunk Sex, forced proximity, stuck in a closet, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, afab reader, some dirty talk, unprotected sex ♡

Word Count - 8.6k

•·············°·············•♡•·············°·············•

Being locked up inside of a stuffy closet wasn't particularly on your list of goals for the night, and yet here you were, barely illuminated by the soft seam of light daring to leak through the cracks of the door. The night air outside was still young and in bloom, voices leaking through the gap under the door with cheers and Holiday joy. You hear the cork to a bottle burst with a pop, a voice shrieking a happy cry as foam inevitably froths over the bottle, spattering to the hardwood floor of the Saloon.

Your own breath feels as if it echoes around you, bouncing off of the built-in shelves lining the closet, hitting you back in the face with a ring paired in your ears. Your back digs into the sharp plastic faux leaves of a holiday wreath, pulled out in the chaos of decorations brought from the very back end of the space, spewing from boxes, unworthy decorations strewn on shelves and wood panel floors - It was a miracle you hadn't shattered a glass bauble under your feet.

You shuffle, knees feeling wobbled and numb, breath punching out from the depths of your lungs, layering the small space in a sickly sweet warmth, hot and humid as if you were trapped in a sauna. Your fingers twirl into thick and dark tendrils of hair, wound into curls with a tight squeeze of your fingers, flexing every time the hard metallic lap of a pierced tongue grazes hot over your clothed clit. Despite the freeze beyond the front door of the Community Centre, the air inside of the closet was thicker than creamy hot chocolate, heated by the dancing bodies of the townsfolk celebrating the late-night festivities. That, and the spiked eggnog you had nursed through the night, settling under your diaphragm and rising up, a flush that kissed your cheeks, skin already bitten sensitive by the cool air on your walk there. And of course the man between your legs had a helping hand with it too - Lengthy fingers grabbing around the soft squish of your thighs, thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. Sebastian’s hands were slender and elegant, decorated with glinting rings and cracked nail polish, said nails digging loving crescents into the supple soft of your skin.

He had you sighing, swallowing down milky-thick saliva, your eyes catching his own, dark brows furrowed in focus as his lips latched with a smush against your mound, a breath heavy and hot on your cunt.

Now how exactly did you end up here anyway?

There was something of a Holiday Party occurring - A new tradition since the Community Centre had been cleaned up, spacious for the entirety of the town to attend, freely mingling and dancing away with a few pocket groups chatting on the sidelines. The more “Adult-Adults” - The Parents of many young people of the Valley - Congregated by the fire, letting the flicking warmth absorb into their skin, soothed from the chilling bite of the outside with their own fire burning up in their guts, born out of the little treat of alcohol they sipped at. Others mingled elsewhere, spread across the varying rooms, even the children ran and played in the crafts room, welcomed now that festivities didn't have to take place in the depths of the Saloon or the frosty outside of the Town Square.

You were with your usual gaggle of friends; Samson, Abigail and Sebastian, tucked away by the storage pantry, sat on crates and barrels filled to the brim with bits and bobs. You giggle airily at Sam and his usual antics, nursing your cup of eggnog while you shift on your makeshift box-seat, careful to avoid lodging a splinter in Yoba knows where. The vibe was cozy, wrapped in a glowy warm as you look between your friends, a buzz in your tummy leaving your head a little light, lips a tad looser than before.

Your eyes land on Sebastian, propped up on his own crate, chin tilted up high enough to reach the crack of an open window, blowing hot nicotine smoke from his lips into the brisk chill outside. He drags his cigarette hard, the end firing to life with a burn of hot orange, ashes flecking off of the edge before it dies away, smoke carried into his lungs to settle before he blows out once again. He was methodical, practiced in the movements as if he’d sneaked a puff of tobacco before, pierced tongue wetting over his lips, spit surely warm enough to battle the cold kiss of night air reddening his mouth with a blush.

You can’t help but watch him, eyes soft with puppy-love, attention easily slipping away from the present conversation. It was a known fact that you harboured a few feelings for the dark and mysterious man - To you and your other friends at least - Having Samson and Abigail on your back about just asking Sebastian on some sort of date, heck, they’d even offered to set the entire thing up! But there was something that nibbled at your subconscious, a whisper chanting doubts into your thoughts like an earworm, suck on repeat as if it were a bad but catchy song. They assured you, swore up and down that he totally felt the same! But you couldn't let yourself believe it, stuck in a loop of pitiful pining, drooling like a dog with its favourite treat just out of reach, dangled above your head like the sweetest forbidden fruit.

You're snapped out of your trance with a soft kick to your shin, Abigail’s boot tip connecting with the bone enough to jump a startle out of you. She was snickering, and so was Sam, eyebrows raised with a soft mocking cat call, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whistled slyly under their breaths lest the other man notice. You pout at them, hiding the expression behind another sip of spiked eggnog, eyes squinted enough to show off your unamusement and potential embarrassment. 

The thick brandy-laced custard slides down your throat with a swallow, adding to the warmth flushing inside your tummy, aided with the bashful sear brought on by Sam’s continued pokes. The alcohol leaves a subtle burn on your tongue, a bubbling in your stomach, turning the sweet and giddy fizz of a crush into something thick and near nauseating. You smack your lips, letting them pout into a small frown, tongue poking past in a childish manner before you let yourself giggle again.

Abigail hops up, sauntering to Sebastian to bum a cigarette off of him, joining by the slight crack of the window on the other side of the room, out of earshot for the next few babbles Sam had for you.

“He looks good tonight, doesn’t he?” Samson ever the lightweight dares to slur your way, cheekily taunting at the crush he knew you harboured for the other man. At first it was all comforts and sweet reassurances, repeating the same lines over and over- Of course you're pretty, of course you're his type, he looks at you too you know? - Until it morphed into not-so-subtle teases and jabs, Sam and Abigail growing tired at the same song and dance of reassurances, opting to wiggle their eyebrows and wink with a coo every time they caught you even glancing at Sebastian. They cared still, obviously, soothed away at the sharp stabs of insecurity that wriggled it’s way past the wall of your inner thoughts and out to them, these days the comforts presented themselves in a sly glance and a knock on your back forcing you to bump into the dark-haired man.

It was true that he did look good tonight; Hoodie swapped for a fitted black button down, coat forgotten at the door with the swallow of warmth inside the building. Piercings all matched with a dark silver sheen with rings to pair on a few of his fingers, bracelets and necklaces tied everything together, sheening behind his unbuttoned collar and rolled up sleeves.

You always hung out with the man in a group, surrounded by the others as a social buffer. Of course you had settled down in Abigail's room many nights past, eating snacks and playing video games until the ranch rooster crowed and the sun kissed its way up and over the horizon. Heck, you'd even spend afternoons with Sam, walking him home from work and staying until dinner, brainstorming music and chatting general nothingness until his mother had politely asked you to head home. 

But Sebastian was another story. How could you invade his sacred space for your own amusement? You could barely open the door to his home for his mother's services without biting your bottom lip and looking at each nail in the floorboards for a distraction, heart tingling at the idea of just seeing him in his natural habitat. A group meant safety, in numbers and outlets, avenues to sprint down in case of an emergency - The emergency being your hopeless and stumbly feelings for him.

Of course you talked to him, chatting away at your interests and his alike, walking drinks from the bar to the pool table with your eyes locked all doe on his face. You had a fair amount in common as well, but that darn bubble in your stomach often kept your feet glued to one spot, a half smile directed towards him in acknowledgement to whatever he would say.

– “You reckon that ring’s new? Looks kinda new…” Sam continues, pondering his astute observation, prying his way past the protective wall you had meticulously crafted surrounding your social body, urging for a comment.

“Maybe..” Your reply is short, safely guarded behind the fear of alcohol loosening your tongue. Sam hums, tilting his head, not at all hiding the fact that he was analysing the man by the window, smoking his way through a conversation, puffs of thick nicotine coming with the replies he had for Abigail before he sticks his head out of the window to blow again. You try not to stare, missing the way Abigail points your way, beaded bracelets on her wrist giving a clacking jingle, her own teasing comments falling off of her tongue with a steady drip of amusement.

“Should ask him.” Sam’s voice chirps again. Subtle teases, as always, trying to push the pair of you together like a girl does with her dolls, announcing the prophet of “Now Kiss!” while smushing their plastic faces together. It had happened once; Sam convinced you to go against him at the pool table, clumsily cracking the triangle of billiard balls with his pool cue, unmanaging to sink either solids or stripes. You admitted you hadn't a clue about how to play, and you were sure you were off the hook until the sunshine boy beams that cheeky, toothy smile at you.

“Sebastian will help!” he had exclaimed, failing to hide his grin when the raven-haired man shrugged and stood from the worn-out Saloon armchair he had been resting in. Though a little initially shy, Sebastian was one to open up with a little push.

That night was something of a struggle. Feeling the warmth of Sebastian's chest laying over your back, lengthy, nimble fingers drowning your own as he guided the pool cue, digits wrapping around the thrumming artery that pulsed in your wrist with a squeeze, just enough to have your head reeling. Click and clack went the sheeny resin balls, sinking into the holes of the pool table with an easy thrust of the cue thanks to Sebastian’s assistance, practically babying you through the process. His cologne stuck to you that night, soft and spicy and barely a hint of sweetness, bled into the threads of your top- Yoba, you’d never properly admit it but you didn’t wash the poor thing for far too long, not until the thick stain had properly lost its essence. The imprint of his body was something unforgettable, towering over your back, chin tucked by your ear, breaths slow and careful, full of focus as he whispered instructions with every turn, guiding your body as if you were his puppet. 

Ever since, it seemed to be Samson’s mischievous mission to pin the two of you together.

There were countless attempts only ending in hot embarrassment, the need to recreate a one off moment only becoming a tangled mess with its execution, like a failed flash mob two counts out of time. But you couldn’t be mad at Sam, in the end he was only trying (and mostly failing) to be your wingman. You squint at him, watching the blonde obnoxiously play with the bar lodged in his tongue, leaned back upon a box from his spot on the floor, eyes fuzzed out of focus in deep thought. Well, as deep as Samson could manage with the clear wash of tipsiness leaking from his body language. He huffs a sigh and chuckles, a goofy, lopsided grin leaning your way before it's hidden by his own sip of his drink, his pierced eyebrow raising as if to dismiss the curious thoughts you had swirling around behind your forehead. 

Sam hops up, a sway in his movement, humming under his breath as he explores a nearby storage closet, spewing out Christmas decor used to add Holiday Charm around the rooms. Ever so nonchalant. He rifles loudly, snickering to himself when he finds a dusty Santa hat, putting the wretched thing over his mane of hair before he continues on. The other pair make their way back over, the window now fully shut, locking in the warmth of the Community Centre, any remnants of the bristly chill snuffed out with a warm wash. Sam’s antics were loud, hands roughly exploring the space, pulling things out that surely shouldn’t be touched - At least not by him of all people. Sebastian and Abigail sit either side of you, the male opting to share a corner of the wooden pallet crate you had situated yourself on, very nearly pressing his bicep into your own as he watches Sam.

“Duuuude..” The blonde calls with a hiccuped laugh, practically jumping into a box to nab at something. Sebastian tilts his head, an amused quirk of a smile plastered on his pierced lips, the point of a double vertical labret (Not snakebites as Sam always annoyingly calls them) lifting with the action.

“That can’t be good.” Sebastian’s voice cracks soft, tone low enough for only you to hear, like a hidden inside joke. Of course, you giggle, top teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the noise, your brain letting you laugh so effortlessly, as if you were a crushing school girl - Yoba it felt silly, and yet your body strives to work against you.

“I’m scared..” You mock a wobbly tone, a fake frown on your face which easily turns upwards as Sam yelps, coming up with his lucky-dip mystery prize he’d yanked up from the box. 

“Ooho..” The blonde calls, lifting up the very thing he had practically dived for; A stringy and sad looking worn-out piece of plastic mistletoe, decorated with a gnarly bright red ribbon in the beginnings of the end of its life, fraying right at the edges in wispy fabric feathers. His grin turns shit-eating, eyes darkening in your direction, dangling the sad plastic plant as if it were poison ivy, ready to rash anything it touched. “Ohh, Sebby-Webs~” He teases, making a wet, spit-filled kissy face at the other man. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes with a huff, pulling out his lighter and flicking the flame to life with a hearty click, a silent threat against the very existence of the sad excuse of mistletoe. Sam makes a show of pouting, sniffling faux snot up his nose in defeat before his attentions turn to you.

“He’s so mean, right?” He keeps up his pout, fake tears in his eyes. “You’ll smooch me, right?” He looked like a kicked puppy, bottom lip wobbling as he neared you, holding the plastic piece above your head. He looks to Sebastian, a glint in his eyes and a near smirk daring to twitch on his lip, stirring the pot, so to say. You fake a gag, looking to Sebastian to spout a joke but the man looked.. Well, tense. Brow furrowed just enough, body stiff in his spot beside you compared to the lucid and wobbled movements of Sam. “Just oneeee~” The blonde begs, teasing at you, making another puckered kissy face as he dramatically leans in.

Another one of his forced proximity plans perhaps-

A lean hand smushes into Sam’s lips, ring clad fingers squishing his cheeks, firmly but gently shaking his head. Oh, it was on now. A roughhousing play fight between the two men, giggles and fake insults, Sam and his mistletoe with pucker kissing noises now directed back to Sebastian. “Kiss meeee, kiss me- You know you want to~” Sam would sing, only to be refuted by Sebastian calling him some sort of choice word. You and Abigail can only look to one another, a stifled smile as the boys go at each other- Until an unhealthy crashing tumble occurs.

Sebastian yelps a swear, falling back on a box within the closet space, saved by the crinkle of tinsel rather than any sharp and nasty decorations. You don’t think, jumping to your feet, eggnog forgotten as you spring to help him.

“Seb-! Are you alright?” You reach him, lending your arm for him to use you as leverage, doing your best to pull him free. You get him up and standing, faced with his collarbones with his height compared to your own, closer than you initially had thought you'd be, the space tighter than it seemed with all the storage boxes-

A chuckle comes from the door, Sam with a teeth-filled and lopsided grin, one hand on the frame and the other tossing the sad little plastic mistletoe right at you before the door comes to a hearty, thunking close. Boisterous laughter is muffled, taunts of “Behaving” going nearly unheard as crates scrape against the hardwood floors, only logically being pressed against the door, successfully locking yourself and Sebastian inside of the tiny storage closet.

This felt juvenile, as if you were thrown into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, the door un-opening as you try your best to push - No luck. 

A hand rests snugly on your waist as Sebastian leans over, trying his luck at pushing the door to get it moving along its hinges, palm and fingers spread flat over the wood. It's a futile attempt. He chokes around a pant as he tries again, breath straining with a soft whine right at the back of his throat with his pushing, forming into a weak and disheartened groan of a sigh when he fails again. He swallows, breathing huffed, squared to catch himself before he braces to try again.

“Seb-” Your voice calls with a crack, your hand daring to reach for his bicep, giving him a soft squeeze, heavy with your touch thanks to the soft swirl of alcohol in your stomach. “Hey..” You try again before he relents, face snapping to yours in the dimmed-down closet, barely illuminated by the crack under the door. His breaths huff against your lips, hot and laced with tobacco and a wash of mint in a feeble attempt to mask the smell. He had managed to work up a small sweat with his attempts, smoker lungs surely fiery behind his ribs, puffs coming to an easy slow, air still coming from past his lips, brushing into yours like a faux kiss.

His hand on your waist doesn't move, plastered stuck right in place before the other joins, holding you right there - Closer than arm's length. You hear him swallow, see the bare brush of his tongue swiping over his lips, wetting them with saliva, piercings glinting with the bare shine of light. “Fuck..” Comes his voice, barely above a whisper, more rounded with the shape of his mouth and that harsh digraph sound nestled at the back of his throat.

It's quiet - So, so quiet. Save for the shake of your breaths, coming into a rhythm, forced into tandem as you try to make out Sebastian’s face in the dim. Your pulse thrums in your ears, thumping like a ball in your throat, gushing red-hot anxious blood to your head, already washy and tipsy drunk off of that damned eggnog- The air between you seared, hot tension rising as you come to terms with exactly what just happened, a heavy weight of mortification washing down your shoulders and to your toes, curdling the contents of your stomach into something bubbly-sick. It was as if a kettlebell fell down on your head right as you’d jumped down from high up, a spiking shock running up your legs and down your shoulders, meeting up in the middle. Your hand moves to come off of his bicep, the squeeze of your fingers off from his flesh-

One slender hand moves up, cupping at your ribs as if to stop you, accompanied by a short and startled disapproving hum, rumbled from Sebastian’s throat. You stare at him, he stares back, eyes searching left, right, left, right, flicking and unknowing of where exactly to look- Until he sighs, air punched from his gut before his head drops, carefully landing on your shoulder, face turned into your neck. His piercings barely press a graze to your sensitive skin, poking dully on your pulse, scraping as he speaks right under your ear.

“Sorry.. C-Can..” Your body sparks a shiver. “Can I..?” He asks, such an open-ended question had your brain searching all the ‘what ifs’. You mouth his name with a whisper, a questioning tone pitched up before he hums a long sound from his chest. “I can’t take it anymore- Really.. Fuck- Can I just..” He huffs another breath, a thick swallow following down his throat. His lips graze a trail up, pressed right by your ear as he asks; “Please-” exacerbation and frustration, it oozes off of him, “Tell me I can kiss you- Yoba I can’t...” 

Was this an eggnog induced hallucination? Was your sick pining something mutual? No more clawing through the six feet of thick insecurity to grasp at measly straws or long over the reassurances Sam and Abigail had gifted you? It was your turn to beg a short please of your own before your lips were captured in a desperate lock - All teeth and tongue, clumsy in movement, heads turning to find the perfect fit. Sebastian's hands wander, caressing up and down your sides, to the small of your back, letting them dive further to cup the fat of your ass as his tongue moves to take over your mouth. It swirls lovingly over your own, the ball of his tongue bar rolling and lapping, tastebuds dragging rough against each other, sloppy with spit and tipsiness, each and every breath of his tainted with a moan that cracked its way up his throat. His piercings poke against your lips, kissing them raw with every move of his mouth on your own until he lets your bottom lip thread through his teeth with a needy bite.

He pecks you hard, capturing your lips in a short frenzy before he's back on you again, deep and needy, pulling your body towards his own, soft in comparison to his lean build. You throw your arms around his neck, fingers twirling girlishly into the back of his hair, giving him a sweet tug with every few kisses you give back. His tongue is on you again, lips parting with a groan as he licks into your mouth, the mixed taste of whiskey tainted custard-cream and spiced smoked tobacco swaps with your spit. The air around you thickens, noses huffing against each others cheeks as you try to catch your breath, unwilling to part from the sloppy lock of your lips - Curse the need to breathe, Sebastian pops off with a wet puckered sound, a line of spit still connecting you together. His arms tighten, fingers turning into a claw to grab at you, anything he could get his hands on, his lungs huffed up choked breaths, head shaking in some form of disbelief.

“Fuck.. Yoba-” His lowered voice calls. Your response is barely a squeak before he's on you again, capturing your lips between his in a hot and heavy manner, pulling you into his body, pressing himself against you, the finality of having you in his arms coursing a magma-hot sear through his blood. His knee rests between your legs, an arm caged around your upper back, caressing and rubbing in a feverish frenzy, bundling the fabric of your clothes into desperate fists while the other rubs circles into your hip, tugging right at the waist of your pants. You feel it, the hot pulse of something down below, the strain of his cock pressing up against the seam of his jeans and by proxy, poking against your own body. “I.. Fucken’... Need you.” It’s said between kisses, slurred against your lips, “F’So… Long.. Too fucken’.. Shit-.. Too, mmph.. pussy to say-” That's when you cut him off, a sweet tug to his hair with one hand and a cup to his chin with the other, tippy-toeing your way to press against him, kissing up, chasing his mouth.

“Shh..” You soothe, your own desperation showing as your palms come down to massage his shoulders, caressing up and down his chest over the sheeny smooth fabric of his button down. Your fingers trace against his collar, dipping past the edge of his shirt, already slightly unbuttoned from the top to show off the silver chain of his necklace. Another swear comes from his pierced lips, hands leaving your body for barely a moment for him to tug at the strip of fabric housing the plastic buttons, pulling the poor placket open with a needy tug, losing at least one rounded badge with a snap, the poor little thing landing on the floor with a bounce before it was forgotten completely. His chest was exposed, milky skin bright enough to see in the dim light, sparsely dotted moles dancing over his otherwise clear skin. It's warm against your touch, tacky with the rise of sweet arousal, in the beginning stages of working up a heated sweat.

His hands are back on your body, reaching for the hem of the ‘ugly sweater’ you’d picked out for the night, decorated with kitschy Holiday motifs sewn into the knit. It was one of your last layers you wore to the party that night, a warm and cuddly jumper and scarf left to sit in a neat pile. Off it came with a tug over your head before his bare hands were on your skin, forcing sweet shivers in every spot he touched, sparking like needle pricks with every squeeze and brush. His lips brush into your neck with open mouthed kisses, bites and bruises peppered into your skin- Your nails dig into his shoulder, dragging down his front before your palms flatten, taking in the feeling of his body against your fingertips. “Sebastian~.. Mmnn..” Your head tilts back with a sweet chirpy moan, giving the man all the access he could ever want to your body, thoughts swirling behind your closed eyes, dizzy with the slur of alcohol inebriating your finer thinking ability. Yoba, you didn’t care- Couldn't care less towards the fact.

Sebastian bites against the strap of your bra, the elastic snapping against your shoulder before he mouths at your collar bone, sinking down to the valley of your breasts, bent over to press tender kisses and love bites into the once untouched and hidden skin. You reach back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, picking at the stubborn latch to free your tits, feeling the wet spit of his kisses linger coolly with the huff of his breath.

“Hahh.. Shit..” His voice pipes up again. Kisses come back up, arms wrapping snug around your body to squeeze you into him, tits squishing into his nude chest all soft and pretty, the rougher poke of his necklace making an imprint into your skin. His hands are grabby, arms flexing to hug and pull at you, teeth sinking into your neck, over your collarbones, wet kisses smothered up your jaw to your awaiting lips.

“S-Seb-!” He only groans in response, head nodding as if to say ‘I Know,’ pierced lips dragging into your skin with the movement. Your hands grab his face, cupping his jaw on either side, thumbs caressing in rough swipes, feeling the subtle grain of his shaved face under the pads of them. You grab back at him, palm sliding down his neck, massaging into the bob of his Adam’s apple, against the slope of his shoulder into that tender trap muscle, skin soft with peach fuzz until you move to his chest, feeling the slightest wiry rough of chest hair, barely enough to frame his torso. You rub the expanse of his chest, hands between your pressed bodies, kissing hot and sloppy, tongues swirling, lips fully parting to moan into his mouth as your thumb brushes over his bare nipple, feeling the hard metal of a piercing. It sends a thick course of arousal to your core, throbbing behind the press of your pants. 

You squirm, rubbing your thighs together for a sweet release, anything to feel the sticky heat of friction against your budding arousal- Yoba you don’t have to chase it though. 

It's like he reads your mind, his hand allowing itself to press between your legs, long and dexterous ring-clad fingers pushing against your mound in a caress, palm pressing richly hot pressure against your clit. Your lips part in another moan, eyes rolling softly, allowing your lashes to flutter into a dreamy close, body melting as if you were moulded out of thick molasses. Things were getting hotter - Heavier - Pleasures beginning to spark under fingers and they soothe and caress, as Sebastian’s palm grounds rough at the seam of your pants, fingertips pressing their pads against your clothed fluttering hole. Your lips part from his with a breathy gasp, his name hot on your tongue, barely whispered, those syllables rounded as you suck air into your starving lungs. Yoba, it's all you can say - A mantra of his name over and over with every few seconds, spewing from your lips as if you knew nothing else. 

He breathes your own name back to you, rasped off of his pierced tongue before his kisses are on your throat, nose nuzzling in slow shakes of his head. His hand comes up, swiping the button to your pants with his thumb and forefinger, zipping down the fly enough for him to connect closer - His fingers dip behind your panties, the taught elastic band surely digging into the back of his hand as he glides his digits over your drooly folds. He outwardly groans, another ‘Fuck’ grit through his teeth. You whimper, head leaning into him for comfort, thighs squishing around his teasing hand. Ohhh that was it- The sweet dip of his long middle finger sinking into your wetness, past the weepy ring of your cunt, coated in sweet drool as he dares to curl. You bite into your bottom lip, a long and keened hum following his actions.

“God- Yoba..” He stains, his finger working its magic, curling sweet caresses, a beckoning of ‘come here, come here!’ over and over again. “You’re so.. Fuck- so wet..” He says in bewilderment, tongue running over his kiss-bitten lips, past the metal pierced through them. You nod, an ‘All f’you’ about to drip off of your tongue if it weren't for the grind of his palm sparking a delicious pressure against your clit- Instead you moan, a pathetic affirmation of a noise whining out. One became two, the slip of his ring finger clad with a ring, in fact, easily being stained with the sweet and creamy nectar of your cunt.

Oh, how he works them into you. Cupping your pussy with his lean hand, lengthy fingers rolling sweet curls against the gummy little spot inside of you, giving you his palm to grind back on, lips kissing at the top of your head, huffing an enamoured chuckle each time you clench your squishy thighs against the bone of his wrist and the dig of his bracelets. Yoba, it forces him to be rougher with you, a game to push past the tight trap of your thighs, free himself from the confines all so he could fuck into you. You look up at him, eyes glassy from the abuse of his fingers, pressing right where you needed him. You flutter a blink, bubbles of tears threatening to fall past your bottom lash, doe and unfocused with a pouty bite to your lip.

“Hohhh.. Fuck, that's it.” He holds you into him as your legs go jelly-soft, a hot wash of ditzy dizziness creeping up your knees as his fingers fuck and curl. He stares right at you, brows furrowed in an upward pinch, a tug of a frown born out of hot arousal and focus appearing right at the corner of his lip. Your breaths hitch, rapid, in pace with a sinful hiccup tainting any feeble attempt at speaking-

“Seb.. ast-tian~” It's almost like a warning, sharp with arousal and stuttered in pleasure, breathed inward as you gasp, hands fisting into the fabric of his open button-down like a lifeline.

“Hmmn?” He hums with a nod - Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, that sweet and spongy swell that had your brain all foggy. “What is it, Princess..?” The name alone had you melting further than you thought was possible, your entire body rippling with a sensation that felt as though you were on fire. Your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt, chin tilting up in a desperate plea, lip bitten raw and in need of more kisses.

Of course, he obliges, hearing your begs despite the lack of a peep chirped from your throat - Slow and deep - That's how he kisses you. Capturing your lips with a sweet bite of teeth, tongue caressing your own with a loving lick, out of time with the hot and feverish way his fingers fuck your cunt. The juxtaposition only adds to the wobble in your body, coming closer and closer to the very edge, moans drunk up by his lips, swallowed with a happy humming in his throat. One hand comes off of his shirt collar, fingers curling around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits.

“I..- I’m.!” You can barely formulate your sentences, whipped thicker than cream under his spell, the sinful caress of his fingers beckoning in your cunt.

“Fuckk, Babe.. S’okay- I gotcha’..” Sebastian promises. You cling to him for dear life, your body leaning its weight against him, pushing him further into the wedge of shelves supporting the both of you. You feel it, that spark right at the bottom of your tummy, twisting and turning, firing into ignition as your thighs clench and squirm. So close- So, so close!

Any attempt at a legible sentence is easily cut with a gaspy whimper, crying out as you cream over his knuckles, properly messing up the fabric of your panties with gushy slick, bleeding pat and surely leaving a messy wet spot on your pants. Even with the taut press of your waistband limiting the man’s movements, he doesn't let up, curing those lengthy fingers through the rush of your orgasm, feeling the clenchy release lovingly pulse on his knuckles. He works you through it, eyes wide and enamoured with the way he had you, closer than arm's length, the sole reason for the sweet bliss that rushed through your body - “Shit- That's it.. Thaaat’s it- Fuck.. Look at me.. Look at me-” You obey, fucked out eyes flicking up to his, seeing the wash of arousal pool and swirl behind his dark lashes, his lip bitten bruised as he focuses on you, enamoured. “Feels good? Hmmn?” He nearly begs for reassurance, huffing a relieved laugh when you nod, your body twitching with each sweet pulse.

His lips attack yours, hungry and hot, throat groaning up a delicious noise you couldn’t help but eat up, body on fire with the way his palm rides you through the remnants of your hot burst of arousal. 

“Fuck..” His hand softens its press, fingers giving a last curl before he carefully pulls them from the confines of your pants. They're drenched and sticky, dribbles of arousal sticking to his fingers like a lattice, spider webbing with a sinful drip that had you clenching your thighs once again. It drips over his rings, cream and slick mixing with the precious metal, soaked knuckles curling as his lips part, tongue lapping a lick before they’re suckled into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is near animalistic, needy and punched from the depths of his lungs, his own arousal going painfully unnoticed only pressing harder and stricter against the seam of his jeans. The man murmurs, words raspy-hot on his tongue; “Need more of’ya-”

It felt almost comical to describe the next moments as a blur, but the post-orgasm airiness lingering in your boozed tipsy brain had your perception flicking with a whack of whiplash. Turned from your position, the skin of your naked back now pressing into a collection of forgotten Holiday decorations, a slight itch thanks to the plastic of a faux wreath. Your pants are tugged down, eager fingers hooking into your waistband and stripping you of your bottoms, it's a short fumble, hot and clumsy, the air within the closet turned stuffy with breath and sweet arousal-induced sweat. 

Hands are on you, flat palms squishing into the flesh of your bare thighs, fingers still slick, pressing their pads into the sensitive, rarely caressed skin - Thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. His lips are next, sharp with the bud of his piercings and the nips of his teeth, daring to suckle a bruising kiss against your inner thigh, piping up a squeak from your throat, another call of his name. You search for Sebastian in the dim, eyes focusing on the milk of his skin reflecting off of the crack of light, his being nestled comfortably between your legs. His dark hair parts with an affectionate caress of your fingers, looping themselves through his locks to pat him. He hums against your flesh, warm on your skin, breath moist with humidity born out of the hot and tacky stick of arousal leaching into the air from your bodies.

He smacks his lips on the skin of your thighs, itching up and up, further into the centre of your heat, nails digging loving crescent marks into your skin with every eager grope. He kisses against your bikini line, right by the taut elastic hugging at your upper leg, hiding away the sweetness of your cunt behind a wall of silky pantie fabric. He nuzzles his nose into the crevice connecting your thigh to torso, the point of it dragging over your clothed cunt with an affectionate press accompanied by a shameless inhale. Sebastian sighs something dreamy, lips peppering kisses that had your breath hitching, right over the mound of your heat - So pretty and accentuated with the tight and taught pull of your panties, outlining the swell of your pussy. Yoba, he swallows thick, gulping down saliva that dared to pool under his pierced tongue. 

Your arousal sticks to his lips, pooling a clear wet spot in your panties, a target for him to kiss at, to tentatively lick at, feeling the slick remnants of your previous orgasm wet on his tongue. He groans- More of that taste on his tongue, eyes heavy as they look up at you, washed over with need. Your fingers twitch, straining against his scalp, tugging his dark strands enough to have him diving right in.

His lips latch to your clothed cunt, impatient to get more of you on his tongue. The soft prick of his lip piercings press a spiky pressure on your sensitive mound, a reminder harsher than the eager lap of his tongue- Yoba.. Fuck- His tongue, strong and flat, licking between your pantie clad folds, adding his own drooly spit to the mess staining the poor fabric. His lips purse against your pussy as he indulges, eyes fluttered shut, thick, dark brows creased into an affectionate scrunch, full of focus.

“O-Ohhh.. Seb… I’m.. I need..” You breathe past the burn of your lungs, panting with jolty huffs each time his lips and tongue brush over the fabric covering the sensitive bud of your clit.

“Hmm.. Mhmmn-” He hums, smacking a harsh kiss before he pulls off, “Need to- Fuck, need my tongue on you. Gotta-” He shakes his head, kissing at his teeth with a ‘tut’ before his thumb dares to leave your thigh, hooking at the fabric of your panties in a motion to pull them aside. He looks to you, a thick gulp down his throat as he watches your head bob- Nod, nod, nod goes your head, almost in desperation to just feel him again, fingers curling in his hair, clenched with arousal and the budding frustration to just make him take you already. Yoba, he was sweet, though, the sentiment of him asking such things, checking in with a silent ask for consent, making your back teeth grit in hot enamourment.

Sebastian takes it, your gifting nod, and eagerly yanks your underwear to the side. His thumb pulls your panties taut, shifted aside to show off the wet glisten of your folds, gushy with your last orgasm, puffy and swollen thanks to the prior abuse of his fingers, good enough to kiss-

Obviously, he does. Planting a wet and obnoxious open-mouthed kiss to your budding clit, lips smacking together before he properly dives into you, selfishly savouring all the sweetly creamed arousal you had for him. You gasp, fingers tightening in the twirls of his hair, surely enough to leave a harsh sting but Yoba- It doesn't seem like he cares. If anything it spurs the man on, a hot groan erupting from his chest, lips parting, the prick of his piercings digging a delicious pressure into your cunt. He’s messy with you, hungry slurps uncaring of the vulgar noise - The sharp and uncomfortable itch of the Holiday wreath biting at your skin was incomparable to the searing hot pleasure ripped from your pussy, stinging with overstimulation, forcing an endless string of whines from your lips.

Your throat hiccups, panting hot swears and the syllables of his name, rounded easily from your lips as he takes to you. It's easy for another orgasm to threaten your body, the feeling eager to roll from your cunt, twisting sweet and stabby like a suckled on candy cane, licked into a pin-thin spike poking at your gut- Especially with the works of Sebastian's tongue, swirly with his movements, tongue fat and flat as the metal ball of his piercing kisses at the bud of your clit in his rhythmic laps. He’s vocal with you, only spurring you on; Sweet hums tainting each breath he sucked in, feeble attempts to get oxygen in his lungs. You’re not sure he cares, not with the hearty mash of his lips against your mound, pursed with a stingy-sweet suckle directed right against your clit, teeth grazing at the supple soft swell of your pussy. 

You can’t help the hot babble, the filthy cry you speak next, steadily rushing to the very edge- Wanting to just take him- Damn any refractory period, you needed to feel the pulsy stab of his length drilling you over the edge. 

“Fuck me- Please- please, please Sebby just- Ahhnn..~” You whine, fingers giving his hair some grace, opting to feverishly pet him, clumsy affection in your fingers as you work them in a soothe. “Want you- Want you so, so bad- Y’know? F’so long-” You don't have to convince him.

He pops off of your cunt- Not without leaving several plants of hot kisses, pecking hotly on your clit before he tugs your panties down. His cock comes free with the jangle of a belt buckle, the leather sliding from his belt loops with a zip, metal buckle daring to clank on the floor before he’s working at the button and zip of his fly. His lips kiss at yours, the taste of your cunt on his tongue, sweetly salty and drenched in arousal, twinged with the last remnants of spicy nicotine and cream-sweet eggnog, swapped with the swirly spitty lap of your tongues mingling together in a hot collide.

It feels like a hot blur, motions moving quickly, Sebastian's arm jutting as he fists his free cock- Weepy dribbly tip all swollen and pink, finally free from the tight seam of his jeans. You squirm, lips clumsy on his own, arousal knocking you into an instinct-driven motion, oh so needy, “Seb..- Please.. Fuck… Fuck me~” You beg, muted between hot kisses, words slurred with the lick of his tongue, cutting you off with his mouth.

You move in tandem, arms throwing themselves around his neck as he grips the squish of your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his lean hip, hooking you into him as he lines himself up. He pops off of your lips enough to breathe, murmuring filthy things against them, coated in hot spit and your sweet arousal; “M’gonna fuck you- Promise, God- Yoba I promise, Princess-” He throws more sweet pet names your way, “Wanted me? Hmm? Wanted- Fuck.. Wanted you f’so long..” He promises. You feel the pudge of his cock press to your cunt, sparking a drooly clench of your drippy hole. He grinds on you, hips rolling, tip weeping as if it were crying, dribbling its milky pre over your puffy clit, pathetically kissing against your folds as his hips rut.

“Fuuuuckkk..” The ring of your cunt hugs his tip, suckling him in as he finally makes an effort to press in, he groans out a moan, matching the supple whine of your throat as you take him. Slow and sweet was something that could surely come later- The pressing itch of desperation easily taking over between you. Heavy rolls turn into needy fucks, hips jutting, pudgy cock tip making love to your cervix, kissing hot and lovingly hard pecks against the sweet mush in the depths of your pussy.

It's easy for his hips to roll into you, the base of his cock pounding against your mound, grinding the wiry curls that decorated him into the sensitive bud of your clit. Plap, plap, plap goes his hips on yours, skin to skin, sticky and sweat sheened, tacky to the touch as your bodies collide. You brace one arm on a shelf behind you, swiping off any stray decorations with a clamouring clutter, mystery items bouncing off into the depths of the closet, rolling on the floor. Your other arm hangs loosely on his neck, doe eyes fucked out and glossed as they look up at him, lips parted sweetly, kiss bitten and spit-shined, captured in a heated tongue and teeth-filled kiss before Sebastian groans. 

“Everythin’ I fucken’ dreamed of-” It's said between gritted teeth, his gaze snapping from your wet eyes to your drooling cunt, huffing an arousal filled chuckled laced up in disbelief, seeing that drooly ring of cream coat over his length, making a mess between yourselves. “So fucking perfect- Fuhhhck m’not gonna last long- Hahh.” You nod in agreement, eyes closing, that bubble of tears falling down your cheeks with a streak. Closer and closer came the tight twist of your next orgasm, your poor and abused pussy clenching loving squeezes on his cock, spurred on with the hot sting of overstimulation- Your thigh cramped, spread over his hip for him, tits bouncing with every thrust, lungs stuck in a sweet burn.

Your skin sweats, lips drool, eyes blink all glossy and dumb, brain firing off every time you have the pleasure of looking at him- Closer, closer - Your clit throbs, hips pathetically humping back into his fucks, chasing the hot high that threatened to gush!

There's sudden laughter, slurred and obnoxious, rasped from an all-too-happy voice. It leaks from beneath the crack in the door, the outside world leaching into your little space, a phantom chill washing over your body as if the door has swung open to the fresh fall of snow that blanketed the street. A crash occurs, a feminine voice scolding someone, furniture scraping against the wood floor of the outside. You hadn't noticed your attention had wandered, not until Sebastian grips your chin, turning you back to lock into another searing kiss-

“Oiii-” A fist bashes against the door, rattling the thing on its hinges. Sebastian’s hand moves, coming between your legs to rub at your poor bud- The fiery thrill of a threat- A burning fear of being caught by a drunken Sam had your body twitching. Sebastian seemed to feel the same, making something of a challenge to get you off before the blonde had the audacity to finally clear the doorway. “Ha- ‘ave you kissed yet?” Yoba knows you’ve done so much more.

Sebastian presses you harder into the shelves, hips snapping rough, filthy words spat into your ears as his hand worked overtime on your poor clit- His hips roll sloppily, breathes coming into a hard and slow pant, huffing in your ear- “Fuck.. M’ Gonna fucken’ cum- Yeah? G-Gonna take it? Hmmn? Look so pretty like this-” he babbles, tone heavy in his throat. “Gonna make it up t’you- Yeah? Promise.. Hnng fuck- P-Promise..” His fucks turn snappy, jut, jut, jutting- Punching at your poor cervix, cunt mashing against the base of his cock.

“Seb- As.. Tian~” You choke, head lulling back with an eye roll, teeth biting into your lips as you finally gush again, wetting his cock with a weepy clench of your pussy, filthily kissing at his length, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs. So sweet and squeezy, your velvety walls massage the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.

His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His sweaty forehead comes to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers holding your thigh up squeezing a grab, a stingy dig of his nails leaving desperate crescent marks behind. He rasps a drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already.

You jolt when another knock rasps against the door, sloppy and full, thunks formed by a fist connecting to the wood. “Alright, you guys, you've definitely been in there long-e-fucking-nough." Sam’s voice calls with a snort, a failed attempt at stifling his laughter. “Don’ make me open this door~” He sings.

The fumble for clothes and the accidental collide of foreheads seemed worth it all - Especially when you roll over and see the man now in your bed, chest rising and falling as he sleeps, more bruises kissed into both of your skin, all sticky and spent, a shower surely in order by the time morning came. For now, you bask in the luxury of resting your head on Sebastian’s chest, lulled to sleep by the dull ache in your legs and the tipsy swirl of spiked eggnog settling in your stomach.

[babiebom]

How Many kids I think the Bachelor/ettes would (want to) have

A/N: because I like thinking about things~ also because I started thinking about it because I want a lot of kids and I wondered who I would actually work well with. Late Merry Christmas btw!!! And happy holidays!!

Tw:sex, maybe cursing idk I always put cursing, childbirth/children, mentions of issues with childbirth, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of adoptions and other stuff surrounding it.

Wc: at least 5 bullet points for each

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

I think he would want either one kid only or as many as his partner wants

Because I can see him being a good dad to his kids

But like I also think that people like him only have one kid because they didn’t get along with their own siblings

So the trauma is like I don’t want to have to choose between my kids when they don’t get along and I don’t want any problems so having one is good

But I also thinks he would want to see how close siblings could be to live somewhat through them

So it’s literally a toss up

On the topic of adoption though he’d probably adopt an older kid if you’re okay with it

Like a teen that doesn’t have a family and is about to age out

I think he’s that type of person and you could adopt a baby or a younger kid later on.

I also think Robin would be present but not like constantly there. Like it’s grandmas for Christmas and other holidays and sometimes she visits but that’s it.

I do think that he would probably end up with a lot of kids bc he can’t keep it in his pants now that he has a significant other.

Sam

He’s going to have at least 3

I see him having 2 boys and a girl if I’m being honest and it would be really cute

All of them are learning to skateboard and something about music

I think he would be a very chaotic dad

Like you have a heart attack every couple of minutes being married to him

Like “yeah! Junior lost a tooth” “how’d he lose a tooth?” “He absolutely ate shit at the skatepark”

I think he would be happy to adopt but probably wouldn’t because of Jodi

I do headcanon Jodi as bit of judgemental

Like she won’t say anything outright but she will be passive aggressive like “I love allllll of my grandkids! Even (adopted child’s name)”

So if you guys do end up adopting for one reason or another you’ll only see Jodi for big holidays unless Sam can get her to change

Vincent is a sweet uncle though and Kent is a decent grandfather. Refuses to tell stories of the war to them though. Jodi is an overbearing but GREAT grandmother when she’s not being petty

Shane

Well he already has Jas so he either will have one more so she has a sibling/cousin

or he will have like 4 more to make the total 5

I do think he would like a big family

But all of the kids are a couple years apart at least because he does want to make sure they all are happy

It takes a while for you two to have kids or adopt because he does still have depression and thinks he would be a shitty father

But he’d be the best out of the bachelors I think maybe number two

Because I feel like out of all of them his love would be greater simply because he does have that self hate and he wants to make sure he’s doing as well as he can

Jas is VERY happy to be a big sister

Harvey

Harvey is a 2 kid guy

Like he would be a 1 kid guy but he’s afraid that the child would be lonely

I also think he would be an only child so he doesn’t want his kid to have the same childhood as him

But the kids would definitely have an age gap

Like at least 8 years because he wants to make sure you(if you’re a person who can give birth) are okay after giving birth.

I also think that if he adopts he would go for siblings specifically

Like two kids that don’t want to be separated by the system or two kids who are biologically related he would go for them

Simply because he wants two kids anyways and keeping people together is what would make him happy

Alex

Either 1 or 4 there’s no in between

I feel like you would have either all boys or all girls with him

Like his genes are very predictable not gonna lie

No matter what gender I think he would make all of them play gridball

Would be hella sad if none of the kids liked the sport bc COME ON

I do think that in his heart he would like to adopt

Especially if it’s to save a kid that’s in a bad family situation

Because in a way his grandparents adopted him after his father left and his mother died

Like those are his parents for lack of actual mom and dad

Very sweet dad but does have sexist tendencies

Like if you have daughters he would be much more strict with them but also would spoil them rotten

And while he’s not as strict with the boys he’s also not as sweet on them.

You have to get him to open up and realize that raising the kids in a specific way can breed resentment towards him. He gets smarter the more kids you have.

Elliott

I think Elliott would want one or two

I don’t know why but I see him as a guy that doesn’t have a lot of kids

Mostly because I feel like he would still like to have time with his partner and having a lot of kids would take away from that unless you can get a sitter or something

But I also feel like he wouldn’t want daycare or a babysitter or nanny

He wants to raise the kids together especially because you both work from home

Also having more than I think 3 for him would make it so he has no time to work on writing

And having only a couple would mean he can evenly give enough attention to the kids.

While for some people having a lot of kids is not a problem with attention and love I think Elliot knows that he’s the type of person that cannot be spread too thin.

Which isn’t a bad thing.

If you’re same sex he is not opposed to adoption

Would like to adopt twins though

Would prefer boy girl twins but obviously won’t throw a fit if it doesn’t work out that way

You’re adopting kids not a dog.

Penny

Easily at least 6

I don’t think she would have the most easy pregnancies

But she will make it look as if she’s the perfect housewife and that bearing children is a breeze for her

She loves kids and wants a big happy family especially because of her upbringing

So if you marry her expect her to want to have kids that are all at least a year apart in age

Doesn’t mind getting pregnant again as soon as you’re cleared for sex

I do think she would prefer to bear children instead of adopt but she’s not opposed to it

I could also see her becoming a foster mother at some point and taking in a bunch of children because she has an empty nest

If you’re the same sex she would probably want ivf

Like obviously this isn’t meant to be offensive and some people have different takes

But she also won’t like be upset that you have to adopt and she would make sure to adopt a BUNCH of children

Is a good mother and tries hard to spread her attention evenly.

You having a farm is great for this type of situation not gonna lie

Leah

To be VERY honest I see Leah as the kind of woman to be a single mom

Not because she gets divorced or her partner dies

It’s literally by choice only her and her kid in their cabin painting.

BUT OBVIOUSLY in this scenario she’s married to you

She would still only have 1 or 2 kids

I don’t think she would really enjoy being pregnant

Like she would like doing the pregnancy art things

But the state of being that she’s in is HORRIBLE she HATES IT

But she loves her kid so much that she’s like okay I can do it one more time.

Maru

Maru is either a one person kid or a 5 person kid tbh

And I do think that science people be lowkey freaky

So I do think she would have a lot of kids

Like somehow she’s always pregnant and everyone is like ?????? Another kid?????

And shes like YEAH I KNOW ISNT THE HUMAN BODY AMAZING????

Y’all’s kids are super smart ngl

Like you’re like???????wtf

Like even if you end up adopting they’re super smart and you’re like ????????? WTF HOW

Though they are still very interested in farming.

Somehow combines the two and creates a super farm

Like you make so much more money after having kids it’s insane.

Haley

Two or three kid woman

No matter how strong your genes are your kids will always have either blonde hair or blue eyes if not both.

Out of all the people having kids your kids with her would have the most normal names

She was a mean girl in high school she’s not setting up her kids for failure from the beginning

Unlike the others who would be on board with homeschooling if that’s what you wanted Haley wants the kids in public or private school.

Shes not much of a teacher and you’re always working on the farm so she wants them to have a good chance of being smart.

I think that y’all would have tons of baby books for the kids because she takes at least 10 pictures a day

Like there is no running out of embarrassing baby pictures your kids better behave lmao

Actually a good mom and ends up being one of those “I’m a cool mom right” women

But she’s actually kinda cool when she’s not making dated references.

Emily

One kid that is just as weird as she is

It doesn’t matter if the kid is adopted or not they behave just like her

But also I think she would go for adopting or fostering the more troubled children because they need love too

And I think she’s the perfect person to understand people on a different level than others.

A very sweet mother that is different than the other bachelor/ettes

Your kid turns out very happy, kind, and connected to the world

They might be a little weird like her

But are well liked by the people who find themselves misunderstood.

She would also be the type of person to run a foster home.

Abigail

I think Abby would like 2 kids.

I think she was very lonely as a kid

Especially with her father only focusing on his work and her mother hanging out with her but not really understanding her likes and hobbies

If she had a sibling there could be a chance that they won’t get along but she feels in her heart that they would’ve been close

So she would have two kids that are like maybe 2 years apart or 5 years apart

I don’t think she would enjoy being pregnant but she enjoys it more than she thought she would

Is not willing to go through giving birth again

So if you’re a person who could give birth if you want more than 2 kids then you’re giving birth

If you’re a person that can get others pregnant then you better plan for a surrogate or adoption because like I said she’s not going through that labor shit again

She is open to having more than 2 kids but like there’s other things that you have to do if you want them

Is a decent mom is kinda awkward with mothering but tries her best

[jackhues]

3 + 1 - sidney crosby

notes: i hope you guys like this, first fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year', had lots of fun making this!!

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

i. (1994)

you'd known sidney your entire life. one of the first memories you had with him was fighting him for the last hockey stick in the store.

well, it wasn't the last hockey stick. but it was the last one of all the types you used to play. it just so happened to be the only one sidney used.

after a game of rock, paper, scissors (you won), sidney got mad and demanded a best of three. maybe it was the defiant look in his eyes at only seven years old, but you decided he could have the stick.

"are you sure?" he asked, now looking hesitant about taking the stick.

you nodded, "i'm sure. they'll get one of the sticks i use in a few days. you can have this one. i'll just steal my brother's stick until then."

sidney grinned, "thanks, y/n."

you smiled back at him, feeling the start of a friendship. you'd lived near him your entire life, but you'd only begun talking to him because of hockey.

"just don't forget to send me a card when you go to one of your tourneys," you told him.

you and sidney laughed over that, before heading back home with your parents. it was after this day that you began to say hi to each other in the halls of school, that you decided to pair up for projects, that you became friends.

over the two months it took until christmas morning, you forgot about what you'd told him. but sidney didn't forget his promise.

and it was on december twenty fifth, that you received a post card in the mail from some place in quebec. a seven year old sidney had tried his best to make the letters look pretty, writing on the side, 'merry christmas, and thanks for the hockey stick, y/n. it helped me win!'

you peered in the envelope, finding a picture of sidney hoisting his giant hockey trophy. you smiled at that.

even though he was so far away, it felt like you were celebrating christmas together.

--

ii. (2004)

'sidney patrick crosby, you have got to be kidding me! you have a huge hotel, you're in finland, and you've got some of the best people with you. and yet, you're saying you wished you were here playing pond with the rest of us? you're crazy. anyways, make sure you score a goal or something, and have lots of fun! honestly, not scoring is fine if you have fun. good luck at the world juniors! i'll be cheering you on from back home :))'

you signed off the letter, sealing it and placing it to the side to deliver later.

at seventeen years old, sidney had become the only under-18 player at this year's world junior tournament for team canada. it was a thing to celebrate, but sidney was upset he would be missing the town's annual christmas pond hockey game.

you and him had played together on the same team for the last nine years, winning every time. this was the first time he wouldn't be here to help your team defend the title.

but that was okay, you thought as you packed up your christmas gear and made your way to the pond.

because sidney was going to play on your t.v. tomorrow, at the national level. it was his first time playing for canada, and you knew he was excited for that.

he just wasn't a fan of missing the small things.

it was why he'd began sending you letters and post cards as he moved around for tournaments and hockey games. they were cute souvenirs, and you didn't mind sending him a letter back.

you just wished he could've been here to celebrate christmas with the rest of you.

--

iii. (2009 - pretend ft was invented a year earlier)

"merry christmas, love."

you smiled, "merry christmas sid."

sidney adjusted his phone, fixing the facetime so you could see him better. you laughed as he struggled for a minute, finally getting a proper angle.

"don't move!" you said. "there, perfect. now your entire face is on my screen."

he laughed as he shook his head to himself.

the two of you had been friends for thirteen years before he worked up the courage to ask you out. and for the last two years of your relationship had been amazing. there were ups, like seeing him win the stanley cup, and there were downs, like seeing him take some uncalled for hits.

but you were happy. and so was sid.

the two of you had planned to celebrate christmas together in pittsburgh, until a family emergency had you coming back to nova scotia last minute.

everything turned out fine, but it was just too late to get a ticket back to pittsburgh.

even so, you and sid had found a way to work around that.

the two of you spent most of the day on the phone with each other, talking and laughing together. it wasn't what either of you had planned, but you made it enjoyable.

it was a great christmas.

--

iv. (2012)

"sidney, will you get down here already?"

"i'm coming, i'm coming," he called from upstairs.

you sighed, waiting for your husband to get up and get downstairs. christmas morning was the one morning you were happy to get out of bed, but it was also the one morning sid wanted to sleep in.

sam, sidney's dog, came down the stairs, curling around by the christmas tree as he waited for sid with you.

a few minutes passed before sidney made his way downstairs, eyes half closed but a sleepy smile plastered on his face to greet you.

"good morning, love," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "merry christmas."

"merry christmas," you smiled, pressed a kiss to his jaw. "we eating breakfast first or presents first?"

"mmm, breakfast," sid decided.

"i knew you were going to say that," you laughed, pulling him along to the kitchen.

you'd already prepared breakfast before he came down. some eggs, sausage and bread. it was a good way to pass the time as you waited for sid to get downstairs.

the two of you took your seats, laughing as you ate breakfast and discussed how far you'd gone in life together.

"you almost tripped on the ice," he reminded you.

"no one told me i had to go out on the ice after you guys won," you argued. "i was so excited over you guys winning the stanley cup, i didn't even notice i was being ushered to the ice until i took my first step."

sid laughed as the two of you slowly made your way to the living room.

"here, open my present first," he said, rummaging under the tree to pull out a long, rectangular box.

the two of you had started the tradition of opening all of your sentimental gifts before the other cute ones. and even though you wanted to go first this year, you supposed it was alright if sid got this one.

you unwrapped the box, pulling out a familiar hockey stick. one that you'd given sidney eighteen years ago.

"oh my god," you muttered, tears building up in your eyes.

"i found it in my parent's garage last summer," he shrugged a little. "i remembered how badly you wanted it. and even though it's too small now, i thought you'd like the memory."

"i love it," you grinned, wiping the corners of your eyes. "it's absolutely perfect. i'm putting this up next to that picture of you holding up the trophy."

sid laughed at your response, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"you can do whatever you like with it."

you put the stick to the side, your hands slightly shaky as you grabbed another, much smaller, box. "here. now open my present."

sid took the box from your hands, unwrapping it and opening it. he stared at the contents of the box, unable to form a sentence as he looked between the box and you.

"you -- this -- seriously?" his eyes shined as he stared at you.

you nodded, feeling the tears build up yourself. "we're having a baby."

sid laughed, pulling you in for a hug. "oh my god, this is amazing. a baby, you and me."

the two of you held each other that day, celebrating christmas together.

[luckyyyduckyyy]

HO HO HO, MERRY CHRISTMASSSSS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! @froppu I am your secret santa! I hope you have a very whimsical and joyous day! <333

OH! I ALMOST FORGOT! Quick! Draw me a mustache! The nutcracker has a mustache in the movie! This needs to be PERFECT!

I quite like having a scepter, but it's a bit small for me... Do you think one of the children would like it after we're done? Or maybe we can make a bigger one, just for keeps..?

After a night of binging many Christmas movies together to get into the holiday spirit, Sun and Moon surprisingly shared the same sentiment; they loved the Nutcracker! Specifically the Barbie version, as they found the characters so fun and endearing!

That andddd while the elegance of the original was endearing, their attention spans seemed to be too shot to sit through the whole thing. Sun blamed it on their code being constantly changed, while Moon insisted it was just part of working in childcare. Needless to say they were very happy to hear you brought multiple versions.

Finding out through the usual post-movie "review" that it was not only your favorite Christmas movie, but also a movie many of the kids may know, they immediately wanted to get all dressed up and put on a short play based off it for Christmas Day! They can't wait to see everyone's faces, and yours too of course; now all they need is their favorite assistant to help them get all set up. <3

vvv Close Ups and Yapping for Frop! vvv

Close Ups

Helloooo!!! I hope you enjoyed the art! <3

I hope the sona turned out well, I am not the best at drawing people and so I tend to draw pretty cartoony when it comes to them, so I leaned into my cartoonier style for this one! They're very cute and I love the DCA themed sleeves. And the bows!!! Ah the bows are wonderful, I had to keep them on the costumes, they're just so iconic! (Also I love your moon design, idk what it is but you drew him so cute in the ref, his colors are refreshing, and I feel like he's secretly a sweetheart uaghhhh)

I couldn't help myself but make the image based off of the Barbie Nutcracker the moment I saw it was your favorite Christmas film, as I love that movie too! (Making this also reminded me how I had a crush on the Nutcracker when I was younger too, so thanks lol /pos)

While the DCA being separate animatronics aren't cannon, I wanted to do this idea anyway, so!!! Two boyos!!! Looking amazing in some nutcracker outfits ✨✨✨

Moon as the Rat King and Sun as the Nutcracker respectively :3

Have an amazing day Frop! And enjoy your holidays!!! I hope you receive a many a gifts. <333

[venusbyline]

Bucky Barnes — Christmas and Candies.

— summary: The former sergeant decides to spend some time living in London a few years after the war, to get rid of the memories that haunts him. Christmas is not a celebration he enjoys anymore, however, meeting a waitress at a bakery is the kickstart he needs to feel a little softer again for the first time.

— pairing: Bucky Barnes x waitress!reader

— type: fluff, angst, 1940s AU

— word count: 1.6k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, war veteran!Bucky, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), mental-health issues, strangers to lovers, pre-relationship, angst and hurt/comfort, Christmas fluff, implied cheating, emotional infidelity, hopeful ending, ambiguous/open ending, argument, social anxiety, post-World War II, no powers (and no Hydra or Winter Soldier), 1940s, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes: This is my first fic with a character from the MCU. Bucky's my fav and maybe I'll write more about him later hahaha. Anyway, Merry Christmas <3 <3 I love you guys, thanks for everything and I hope you have fun with your families and friends.

— crossposting: AO3

Bucky had decided to take some time away from the USA a few years after the war, some time for himself, to rest and try to get to know new places and new people.

At least, that is what he had said his family and friends when he told the news. He needed to stay away from the cruel memories involving everything that had happened in the war, try to get rid of everything that made him wake up desperate and in a cold sweat at dawn.

Get rid of the nightmares that plagued his mind all the time.

However, nothing would go right. The apartment that Bucky was renting for a limited time was a complete mess. The acoustics of the rooms were terrible and he found himself constantly complaining to himself about the noise that the neighbors on each side made. And even more irritating were the children's cries at the front door. Bucky did not know how to approach the neighbors and complain about the sleep deprivation he was experiencing because of their kids, so he decided to just keeping silent, at least for a while.

That morning, Bucky woke up frustrated and took a shower before deciding to buy something for breakfast at a nearby bakery. He had not slept well and the look of frustration was evident on his face as he walked the streets. The dark gray scarf did little to warm him from the annoying fog that hit his face with every step he took.

He had gotten used to being cold during the war, but he could not help but keep complaining about it inside his thoughts. He had never been the biggest fan of winter days, just as he was not the biggest fancier of celebrating Christmas anymore.

During his innocent times, Bucky liked to look at the Christmas decorations. Now, after everything he was forced to face, he found himself constantly frowning every time he saw someone on the streets happy with the arrival of that commemorative date.

"Happy Christmas Eve. How can I help you, sir?" A soft voice caught Bucky's attention and he barely realized he had entered a bakery. He frowned when he saw the pretty girl with a red scarf so vibrant and it almost made him turn around and walk away.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to ignore the discomfort with the color. Why did people like that damn red so much? It was just a stupid color to show love and passion, but in the former sergeant's eyes it only represented anger and reminded him of how much blood he had shed during the war.

How much blood he had been forced to watch his friends lose...

The girl remained looking at Bucky with a confused and excited expression at the same time, clearly not realizing how disturbed his mind was at that moment. Or at least pretending not to notice, perhaps due to a lack of empathy or simply to not make their situation even worse.

Bucky took a few deep breaths and finally managed to mutter. "A cream donut."

The sentence sounded with an absence of enthusiasm that made the waitress swallow hard, nodding with a raised eyebrow and then looking for a cream donut in the showcase. She could feel the man's eyes following her and every movement of her hands, poking his cheek with his tongue as he noticed that the donut had some red and green sprinkles on top.

"Don't you have a normal version of that fucking candy? Some version that doesn't look like Santa's elves threw up on it?"

The waitress' eyes widened at Bucky's sudden outburst, staring at him without knowing what to say other than looking at him as if he had just said the most cruel words in the world.

Bucky took a deep breath when he noticed how the girl had her hands shaking, confusion and a little anger written in her face, not knowing whether to put the donut on the plate or not. Guilt ate him alive when he noticed that his words had sounded angrier and louder than he expected. If it were before the war, Bucky would have excitedly entered the bakery, flirted with the cute waitress, bought several delicious and decorated candies, eaten them right there and flirted with the girl one more time before leaving.

The old version of him was a womanizer and philanderer. And his current version was nothing more than a traumatized asshole.

"You know what, doll... Forget it. You can put the candy back where it was before, I'll buy something at another bakery." He murmured, hoping that the nickname would soften his rudeness and his refusal to buy anything to eat there.

During the night, you finished selling the last candies and sighed in relief as the customers left. It was already more than ten o'clock at night and the need for a rest began to become clear on your face. Christmas Eve was always extremely busy at the bakery, and as much as you enjoyed the holiday, there was something strange about that night.

Maybe it was just the random man's rudeness during the morning, or maybe it was the feeling of emptiness and sadness that consumed your body every time you looked at the clock. You knew that your fiancé could not fulfill his agreement once again, and you could not help but feel quite melancholy when you realized that you were always falling for every stupid nonsense he promised.

When the door bell rang, revealing another customer entering, you sighed still facing away. "I'm already closing, sorry. There are no more candies to sell." You said with a cold and distant tone, wiping away the single tear that fell. There was silence after that and you frowned, crossing your arms as you looked back, sighing in frustration as you recognized the man standing there. "Oh, you again."

He nodded, his facial expression remained serious, however, his body language gave away his true emotions. "My name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes. And... I was a soldier. A sergeant, actually..."

"Bucky Barnes." You tested the name on your tongue with some curiosity and looked back at him, completely confused. "May I know why you are standing in front of me now, telling me your name and your former career?"

Bucky took a deep breath, crossing his arms like you as if trying to portray a confident image of himself, someone who was not shaken, until he finally gave up on the stupid charade and sighed. "I was a jerk to you, miss. I'm sorry. I just... I know that's not a good excuse, but I'm still so traumatized from the whole war that I couldn't help but feel angry seeing the arrival of the Christmas. And you..." He ran his hand through his hair, sighing again, brushing the brown strands away from his angelic but sad face. "And you're so beautiful and in the morning you were really so excited about this damn holiday. I ended up stressing out about that, I'm truly sorry I took it out on you. You don't even know me, it wasn't fair to you and your bakery. "

Bucky's quick and objective explanation caught you off guard and you had your mouth open for a few seconds. You tried to take it as a simple apology from a traumatized former soldier. It was only fair that he apologized to you after his selfish rudeness...

However, you took a deep breath. You took another look at the clock, realizing that in fact your fiance was not going to come back to take you to his house. He had done that during the last two Christmas Eve. Your family tried to convince you that it was just a difficult phase in your relationship and that it was not worth breaking up with a rich man to remain single around the world and be talked about badly as if you were a whore.

And you tried. You tried so much. Sometimes even too much.

And now you were tired from maintain by yourself the perfect couple charade.

A sigh escaped your lips and you looked back at Bucky, a hint of curiosity in his tired blue eyes while you picked up a bag from behind the counter and moved yourself to the table next to Bucky, his gaze admiring your face and also admiring the light brown wool dress you wore, as well as the dark red sweater with your initial embroidered in a shade of gold, perfectly matching the scarf you had been wearing since the beginning of the day.

As soon as you took some pretty candies out of the bag, Bucky chuckled. "I thought you said they were all sold already, doll."

You shrugged, feigning some indifference. "I said. But these were for me to take and eat during Christmas Eve dinner. You cannot blame for that." You gave Bucky a light smile. "Anyway, if you're free tonight, we can celebrate together.'

His eyebrows rose with shock at your point and clear flirt despite the engagement ring on your hand. Even before the war, Bucky was not a man to get involved with committed women.

And despite everything, now he did not even blink when he joined you, returning your smile and waiting with some excitement while you arranged the desserts on the table. That was a very unlikely way to celebrate Christmas Eve, having dinner with an unknown waitress who he had been rude to just a few hours before. In fact, this scenario had never crossed Bucky's mind when he moved to London or when he decided to buy some food at your bakery in the morning. Despite how unusual and even funny the whole situation seemed, Bucky felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Celebrating the special night with you was much better than being locked up inside his own apartment, brooding over each of the traumas that haunted his mind, always consumed with melancholy and self-loathing. At least from that night onwards, he would have a reason to visit your bakery quite often.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Don't Be A Stranger

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

But if (my) world was ending, you'd come over right?

(In which UCLA anon's roman empire became this writer's roman empire and we've finally reached the beginning)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 8.4 K (other parts will be shorter....maybe)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Gonna keep this as short and sweet as possible but we've finally, finally gotten to the UCLA fic. A huge shout out to UCLA anon, because this is their master idea. Couple of things, I've never been to LA or UCLA and therefore some things are out of whack. The timeline is also a little out of whack but I swear I will try to keep it as consistent as possible. In the mean time, just ignore some of the inconsistencies pretty please. As always, feel free to let me know what's bad, what's good and what else you'd like to see. I hope y'all enjoy this first part and let's get another W today!

August 2021

where are you 

i literally have to be at the airport in an hour paige where are you 

dude 

are you on your way?

you better be driving and that’s why you’re not answering 

PAIGE

i’m sorry about last night i shouldn’t have said that 

but you said a lot of shit too so call it even?

this isn’t funny where are you?

i have to leave in 15 mins 

are you actually not coming?

wtf????

this is actually bullshit

get over yourself bueckers 

wow 

fuck you

just landed 

thought you might like to know 

sorry my plane didn’t crash i guess 

September 2021

dude enough okay 

can you just call me back??

i just wanna talk 

i know you're mad i get it but i miss you   

November 2021 

hi i’mma be in dc over christmas

nvm 

idk why i’m trying again  

maybe i should block you 

this is kinda pathetic of me what the fuck 

December 2021

i thought i saw you today but idk

couldn’t have been you cause if it was 

would you really not even say hi?

i’m done trying paige 

merry christmas i guess

March 2022 

i misz you 

lyke a wot

love uuuuu pppppp

even if ur a bwtich 

pkese pick up 

ignore that 

people drunk text exes apparently i drunk text you 

wait 

i don’t need to tell you that 

you already ignore it all anyways

 

August 2022 

i heard about the acl 

i’m sorry 

idk if it means anything, but if you wanna talk

nvm 

***

September 2022 

When the doorbell rings, on a quiet Thursday afternoon during a rare moment of alone time, Paige expects it to be a lot of people. One of her parents deciding that they actually weren’t going to leave her alone. Someone else in her family showing up out of the blue to provide comfort. Maybe one of her teammates popping up to keep her entertained. She even thinks it might be some random fan who got too invested and figured out the address for her air BnB. It’s the saddest testament to how broken they are, that the idea of it being Azzi Fudd standing outside her door, never once crosses her mind. But there she is, when Paige opens the door, dressed in ripped jean shorts and a light blue tank top, the girl that had been her best friend, and maybe a little bit more. 

Silence stretches between them as Azzi fidgets with her hands and Paige continues to stoically stare at her. It’s been almost a year since they’ve seen each other, even longer since they’d last shared a happy smile. And you’d have to go back to before she’d told her about her future plans, to find the last time Azzi had properly looked Paige in the eyes.  

“Hi,” Azzi says finally, mustering up a small smile. Paige doesn’t know if hearing that voice, soft and subdued but still so familiar, fixes a crack or breaks her heart even further. She wills herself to be polite in response, to match Azzi’s polite greeting with a greeting of her own. But there’s clear discord between her mouth and her head, because her words are harsh and hollowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Azzi swallows, smile disappearing as she immediately digs her fingernails into her palms and Paige feels the guilt settle into her stomach. It’s like the night before all over again. If she closes her eyes, Paige can still hear her voice loudly echoing in Azzi’s childhood bedroom. She can hear the angry words that she’d hurled at her best friend, each one like a well-aimed arrow piercing the other’s girl's heart and tearing into Paige’s own soul. Some would call what she’d done self-preservation. She’d call it her biggest mistake. 

“I um-,” Azzi sucks in her bottom lip, “I was in the area and thought, maybe I’d check in.”

“How did you even know where I was?” Paige hates how cold and accusatory her voice sounds. It’s a version of herself she doesn’t quite know how to deal with, one that hasn’t ever appeared for anyone other than the girl in front of her, “I know I didn’t tell you.”

Any semblance of calm is gone from Azzi’s face, as she seems to realise that she’s not going to be getting any cordiality from her old friend. 

 “And we’re off to a great start,” she mutters under her breath before replying to Paige’s exact question, “no you didn’t. Your dad-”

“You talked to my dad?”

“Yeah. I mean you know Drew looks up to Jon and José so much and they still talk and stuff and he came over- Drew I mean- and then your dad was there and we just got to talking and you came up and yeah. He told me and well I live here, kinda, so I thought- well I thought maybe you’d like some company?”

As Azzi’s rambling explanation comes to an end, Paige doesn’t miss the tinge of hopefulness in her voice at the last bit. The younger girl shuffles her feet, as she stares at the blonde expectantly. 

“I don’t-” Paige struggles to draw in a breath as the voices in her head argue, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her words are met with silence as Azzi stares at her blankly. 

“I- you,” she blinks rapidly, clearly at a loss for what to say at the blatant rejection, “I can’t come in?”

“It’s just- I’ve had a lot of people visit you know,” Paige bullshits, suddenly feeling very exhausted, “and my family were here a couple days and my friends are coming soon and-”

“And I’m neither of those things,” Azzi says, her tone low and breathy. 

“That’s not what-”

“It is,” Azzi closes her eyes for a brief second, when she opens them, the flash of hurt in them feels like a dagger through Paige’s chest, “it is like that and it is what you meant and it’s- it’s fine.”

“Az-” Paige chokes out, feeling her lungs collapse when the other girl moves to leave, “please,” and she’s not even sure she’s asking for, but it’s not this. It’s never been this.

Azzi stops and when she turns back around, there’s a determined look on her face.

“I just-” she rubs her face, composing herself before focusing her eyes on Paige, “you’re the strongest person I know. And you’re going to come back from this, better than ever. I know it. The whole world knows it. Because you’re Paige Bueckers. You’re something else.  You’re the hardest worker, you’re just- you’re the best.”

“You don’t-”

“Just- just let me finish okay and then, then I’ll go or whatever but Paige, you’re all of those things you know? Strong, brave, the best fucking player- but, it’s also okay if sometimes-, if sometimes you aren’t. It’s okay because this- this is hard, I know it is. So if sometimes you’re not strong or-, or brave- or not feeling like working hard- it’s okay. And if there are moments where you- where you want to give up, that’s okay too. It doesn’t make you- it doesn’t make you any less than what you are. It just makes you human, and it’s okay you know- to be human. It’s okay if- if you hurt and it’s okay if you’re not okay. It’s- it’s okay.”

The two girls stare at each other, eyes shining with tears, as Paige let’s Azzi’s words wash over her. She’s been told a lot of platitudes about her injury, from her coaches to her teammates to her family. And she knows she has plenty of people in her corner, who root for her and who genuinely do believe she’ll have the greatest comeback ever. But the motivational speeches get draining after a while and all she’s wanted to do for the last couple of weeks is wallow. Then she felt guilty about wallowing, that little voice in her head yelling at her to be productive and work on getting back to herself because that’s what everybody expected. Paige hadn’t even realised how badly she needed someone to give her permission to not be okay, not until the only person who’d ever known that part of her, had finally said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

The thing is, when she was younger, Paige used to keep everything bottled inside. She’d always been hyper aware of her privilege and her problems had always just seemed so insignificant in front of her parents’ or her friends. So she’d kept them to herself, trapping herself in a web of her own burdens that sometimes threatened to strangle her. And then she’d met a girl at a USA basketball camp when she was 15, a girl who had gently flicked her fingers and Paige’s walls had fallen like dominoes. She hadn’t even known she was drowning, until Azzi had shown up with a lifeboat.

“I just-,” Azzi breaks Paige out of her trance by breaking the eye contact between them, “I didn’t know if anybody had said that to you yet and I just- I wanted you to hear it.”

In the span of a minute, a thousand and one phrases take birth in Paige’s mind and then die on the tip of her tongue. She opens and closes her mouth, trying to express even one of the myriad of emotions that are swirling like a tornado in her brain. But nothing comes out except a litany of incomprehensible noises. And Azzi seems to find the wrong answer in the silence, giving the blonde a timid nod. 

“Take care of yourself P,” her voice catches on the familiar nickname, as she shoots Paige a sad smile, before beginning to walk away. When Azzi chose UCLA, she’d lit Paige's heart on fire. So, Paige had drowned their friendship. And while all this time Azzi has struggled to breathe, Paige has burned but god, is she so fucking tired of it. 

“Fuck, Azzi wait,” Paige curses, hobbling to catch up to the brunette, who stops with a sigh but doesn’t make a move to return. Stubborn as always, Paige thinks, continuing her way over. When she does catch up, she’s not fully sure what to say and so,  “I uh- I’m out of milk.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows in question, crossing her arms protectively around her chest. 

“I can’t drive,” Paige explains slowly, “or walk obviously.”

Realisation dawns on Azzi’s face, “you’re asking me to drive you to the grocery store?”

“I guess,” Paige shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Seems like the kind of favour someone asks of their family, or their friends,” Azzi emphasises bitterly, never one to let go of an opportunity for sarcasm. 

Paige flinches, “right, I kinda deserved that one.”

She gets a raised eyebrow in response that very much says “ya think?”

“I’m trying here,” she says quietly, and Azzi’s hard demeanour softens, “I’m raising a white flag Az, calling a truce or whatever but it kinda needs to go both ways.” 

“What do you think me coming here was supposed to be?” the younger girl says exasperatedly, but she’s smiling again. It’s the third one Paige has gotten out of her today, and finally, she smiles back. They look a little foolish, standing in the apartment hallway, cheshire-cat-grinning at each other like idiots, but it feels like something has clicked into place again.  

“I’ll go grab my wallet, you go heat up the car.”

“It’s like 110 degrees dude.”

“Bro shut up, you know what I mean,” Paige huffs and when it makes Azzi laugh, she feels like she’s floating. It’s not as if she hasn’t been happy in a year because won’t you look at that, her world did keep turning after that one decision. But this is different. She feels airy and light, like she could jump off a cliff and fly instead of fall. 

“Well hurry up, I have things to do outside of just being your chauffeur.”

“Poor passenger princess, how the roles have reversed,” Paige mocks and it earns her an ever so familiar fond eye roll and for the first time in a year, she feels free. 

***

When she gets downstairs, Azzi’s leaning against her car door, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes. The hot California sun shines brightly against her tan skin, and Paige’s heart stutters because fuck, Azzi is golden. She looks every bit reminiscent of the girl Paige still has memorised and yet, every bit the promise of a girl Paige wants to learn by heart. 

“Nice car,” Paige smirks, alerting the younger girl of her presence.  

“It does the job,” Azzi says, looking up with a smile of her own, opening the passenger door for Paige to get in, “not all of us are raking in NIL deals to get the big guns, but we make do.”

“Steph Curry brand ambassador say what now?” the blonde girl teases as she slides into the car. When she looks up, Azzi’s frozen in place, “what?”

“Nothing I just-” she’s wearing sunglasses, but Paige knows Azzi's trying to avert her gaze, “I’m kinda surprised you know that.”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away, their newfound comfort giving away to that old awkwardness, “I keep up with most basketball news.”

To Azzi’s credit she doesn’t push. Instead, she makes her way into the driver seat without another sound. She’s about to connect her phone to the aux but Paige beats her to it. 

“Hey,” Azzi squeals, making grabby hands, “my car, my rules, my music.”

“Nuh-uh injury privileges,” Paige gloats, sticking out her tongue. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“Is too.”

“Fine, we’ll listen to your crap music.”

“I resent that,” Paige retorts, as Drake blasts through the speakers. The sound of it makes Azzi groan, and she dramatically bangs her head against the steering wheel. Paige spends the rest of the car ride singing at the top of her lungs. Azzi spends the rest of the car ride alternating between shaking her head and joining in with the singing. It’s like they’re back in 2020 all over again, back before they found themselves in the whirlwind of life, back when they were just Paige and Azzi.

*** 

Their trip inside the grocery store takes less time than the ride to get there, even if Paige takes her time dilly-dallying in the dairy section, pretending she’s going to get anything other than just regular milk. She’s overly conscious of the fact that their time together might be coming to an end, that this time she might actually have to deal with saying goodbye. But she’s not ready to go back to missing Azzi just yet. 

“Maybe you can show me your dorm,” she says quietly, once they're both back in the car, playing with the hem of her shirt. Beside her, Azzi draws in a sharp intake of breath, clearly not having expected Paige to want that of all things. In all honesty, the idea of stepping into the world that had stolen Azzi from her is not all that appealing to Paige but she wants to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. 

“You wanna see my dorm?” 

“A chance to see how the non-blue blood peasants live? I’d never pass it up.”

“Non blue blood,” Azzi scoffs, "Ever heard of John Wooden?”

“I was talking about women’s basketball but yeah I have heard of him. I won the award last year. Over you,” Paige smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Not everyone’s a phenom their freshman year,” Azzi retorts fondly, unable to mask the hint of pride in her voice. 

“Well we’ll see this year-” Paige stops herself, cold seeping into her lungs, as she remembers why she’s in the stupid state of California in the first place. The lighthearted mood in the car goes tumbling out the window as her words hang like a dagger in the air. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, trying to wrap that one syllable in comfort. She reaches out to touch the blonde’s shoulder but must think better of it because her hand hovers mid-air for a second, before she pulls it back. Paige is suddenly hyper aware of the fact they haven’t touched yet. It’s a reminder of the fact that whatever progress they’ve made today, there’s still so much they haven’t even begun to unpack. 

“It’s fine,” Paige’s voice is steely, “just drive.”

Azzi opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, before simply nodding and starting the ignition. She’s clearly holding back and Paige doesn’t know how to feel about it. There’s a part of her that wants Azzi to push her to talk like she would before, but there's another part of her that knows this new rope they’re trying to string between them is fragile. 

They ride in silence to Azzi’s apartment, both of them too caught up in their own thoughts to bother with music this time. As the UCLA campus nears, Paige can’t help but hate it just a little bit. She’s aware she’s being petty. Acting like Storrs, Connecticut is some hub of beauty is probably a stretch of the imagination for anyone but she’s determined to dislike this place out of principle.

“Hmm not too shabby but like where’s the fucking cows?” Paige jokes, as the car comes to a stop in front of Azzi’s apartment building. She steps out gingerly, pretending to inspect her surroundings, making tsk-tsk noises at the most random things. 

“I’ve seen your apartment Bueckers, don’t even try,” Azzi retorts. 

It shouldn’t surprise Paige to see one of Azzi’s teammates when they enter her living room. It’s just like UConn really in the sense that there’s always someone there when you walk in but something about seeing Charisma Osborne just chilling in Azzi’s space suddenly makes it more real that the younger girl is definitely a UCLA Bruin. 

“Oh,” Charisma gives Paige a once-over, clearly not having expected to see her, “hi Paige.”

Paige waves, shuffling her weight on her crutches, unsure what to say. It’s not like she doesn’t know Charisma, they’ve literally won a gold medal together for USA basketball. She’s even met the girl a couple of times after and she likes her, she does. But her bitter brain is focused on the fact that this is one of those girls who had gotten Azzi as their teammate, one of the girls who got to see Azzi everyday. All things Paige had not gotten. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company Az,” Charisma says pointedly, looking at Azzi and Paige bristles at the use of the nickname. She’s being all sorts of ridiculous but at least she’s self-aware of it. 

“Last minute decisions,” Azzi replies airily. The two girls lock eyes and Paige can tell they’re having some sort of unspoken conversation and now the green-eyed envy monster is out in full force. 

“I insisted on seeing her dorm,” she says finally, breaking into whatever staring competition the two UCLA guards are having. 

“It’s not a problem,” Charisma reassures, standing up from her position on the couch, and coming over to give Paige a tentative hug, “I just didn’t know you were coming. But it’s good to see you, Paige.”

“Yeah,” Paige tries to muster up a proper smile as she leans in to return the hug but it comes out more like a grimace, “you too.”

“We’re gonna go chill in my room,” Azzi says, beckoning to one of the doors in the hallways and Paige obediently follows her, waving a half-hearted goodbye to Charisma. She’s secretly pleased to have Azzi back to herself. 

The room is nothing out of the ordinary except it has Azzi all over it. She’s in the pink comforter that is thrown haphazardly over a clearly not made bed. She’s in the unicorn plushies laid delicately over a dark blue couch. She’s in the little flower stickers that outline the mirror on the far side of the room. There’s a wall dedicated solely to pictures and fairy lights on one side and Paige is immediately drawn to it. A familiar ache reverberates in her chest as her eyes flicker over the pictures of Azzi’s family. She’s missed them. Then there’s the photographs of Azzi in her UCLA uniform, her teammates surrounding her and Paige has to resist the dangerous urge to rip those off the wall. Be happy for her happiness, the logical part of her brain yells, not seeming to realise she’d left any chance of that in the dirt a year ago. As she tears her eyes away from those offending pictures, they land instead on a whole other set of photographs and she feels her heart catch in her throat. 

It’s a set of three images of her and Azzi, taken at various moments. Paige brushes her thumb against the one of the two of them with their arms around each other at the Minnesota  state fair. Azzi’s beaming at the camera and Paige is beaming at Azzi. They look so young, so naive, so happy. 

“I’m on your wall,” Paige breathes out, turning to face her best friend, “Fuck, I’m on you wall.”

“Of course you are,” Azzi affirms, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world but she shuffles nervously, giving away the reality behind her stable demeanour. 

“I never answered your texts. I didn’t call you back,” Paige lists quietly as the first tear falls from her eyes; she’s been holding them back all day, “and I’m on your fucking wall.”

Azzi looks away, unsure how to deal with the fact that apparently they’re no longer tip-toeing around the past. She doesn’t know how to tell the blonde that there had never really been a second thought about whether or not those photos were going up on the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs finally, “you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“Ride or die,” Paige repeats in a whisper before she all but throws herself at Azzi, practically moulding herself into the younger girl’s body. Caught off guard, Azzi stiffens for a second, before relaxing into it. It’s late outside and the sun has set, but in this moment, the world shines the brightest it has in a year as two stubborn girls finally find their way home to each other. 

***

That night, Azzi asks her tentatively if she wants to stay over and of course Paige agrees. Lying awake next to a familiar stranger, she lets herself finally remember the day things had first started unravelling.

November 2020

“You’ll probably get one of the upstairs apartments, so we probably won’t actually be living together which is good because can you imagine if I had to see your goofy ass 24/7?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her forehead, as she leads Azzi into her room.

She’s too caught up in her excitement having Azzi at UConn, and planning what’ll happen next year, to notice that the girl in question isn’t participating at all in her enthusiasm. Paige has been waiting for what feels like a year (in reality it’s only been a few months) to finally have her best friend come visit. The minute the car had pulled up, she’d taken it upon herself to start her sales pitch all over again, missing the sympathetic smiles she’d gotten from the rest of the Fudd family as she pulled Azzi away to show her the glories of the campus. 

“Did you see my assist to Christyn today?” Paige gloats, falling onto her bed with a smirk. 

“It was pretty great,” Azzi concedes. 

“It was fucking perfect thank you very much. I set her up perfectly, exactly how she likes it.”

“Right.”

“And then did you see how excited the team was for her? For everyone? Never gonna find a greater group of girls.”

“They seem wonderful P.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows as she catches Azzi still lingering by the door instead of joining her on the bed. The brunette fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, chewing on her lips.

“Are you allergic to my bed?” Paige waits for some smartass response. When she doesn’t get one, she frowns, instincts going haywire, “Az, you good?”

“I- '' Azzi looks away, swallowing nervously, “I need to tell you something and I- I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.” 

“You get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or something in the last few months that I don’t know about?” She says it light-heartedly enough, but the thought of it sends a sharp sting through Paige’s heart. In hindsight, she thinks maybe she could have dealt with it having been that. 

“What? No. Just- just don’t- dont take it personally okay. Like you can be upset about it but- but don’t hold it against me yeah? My parents- they said- they said you’d get it. You’d be upset but you’d- you’d get it because you- you get me right?”

Paige’s chest hammers as she watches the younger girl draw in a deep breath, “you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I’mcommittingtoUCLA” Azzi says all in one breath, the words blending together. 

She’s sure she’s heard it wrong. There’s no way. After all this time, after all their conversations, all the pitches, how hard she had worked, there was no way this was going to be the end to all of Paige’s efforts. 

“What?” she whispers, crossing her fingers that she has in fact misheard. 

When Azzi averts her eyes, she knows she hasn’t, “I’m committing to UCLA.”

The first time Paige and Azzi met was somewhat awkward, what with Azzi’s shyness and Paige being slightly overeager to make a new friend. When they’d become bus buddies, they’d progressed to being casual acquaintances who could small talk and share smiles. And then the flight back to Minnesota happened and everything had changed. Every moment after was filled with conversation or laughs or a comfortable silence. Until this one, where the sudden silence between them foreshadows an ominous future.

“Say something,” Azzi says finally, her voice shaking. 

Paige stares at her for a second before, “you named your dog Stewie.”

“What?”

“You named your dog Stewie. After Breanna Stewart who played at UConn. It’s not-” Paige wracks her brain, hands flying animatedly “it’s not Meyers or something, after someone who played at fucking UCLA. You named your dog after a UConn great. How are you going to take him to UCLA with you?”

Azzi stares at her, clearly not having expected that level of questioning of all things. Who could blame her when Paige herself feels a little insane. 

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with me? Ha ha ha very funny,” she claps deliriously,  “hilarious prank seriously, like hats off you’ve outdone yourself but enough okay? Say sike right fucking now.”

Azzi makes a strangled noise, “it’s not a joke Paige. That’s- that’s my decision.”

“Then change it,” Paige yells, catapulting off the bed.

“Paige-”

“Have you told UCLA yet?”

“I wanted to tell my family and you first.”

“Oh wow, how kind of you. How fucking generous of you to do that Azzi,” Paige bites back sarcastically and Azzi flinches. 

In a flash, Paige’s expression goes from angry to desperate, “you still have time to change your mind . Please just- just think about it again okay? You still have so much time and you know what, stay here for a couple more days. Spend time with the team, with the coaches, with me and you’ll see-. UCLA just sounds nice you know? California, the sun, I get it, of course it’s tempting. But just- just stay here okay? And you’ll see this is where you belong,” she leaves the, with me, unsaid. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice cracks. She takes a step toward her and then pauses. It’s the first time in a long time that Azzi’s hesitated when it comes to Paige. It won’t be the last. And when she looks at Paige through her long eyelashes, tears threatening to fall from her dark brown eyes, Paige knows she’s lost. 

“No,” she’s pacing now, chest heaving up and down in a combination of frustration, anger and misery, “this is not fucking happening. We’re not doing this. I made you a whole recruitment video. Did you watch it? Do you know how long it took me to make it? Has the last year been a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not-”

“Don’t even. Because clearly- clearly it has. Must’ve been hilarious watching me beg and plead with you when you already fucking knew you were going to committ somewhere else.”

“That’s not fair,”  Azzi’s voice rises at the accusation, “I had no idea where I was going until a couple of weeks ago. You can’t seriously think that low of me.”

“Not fair? You know what’s not fair, Azzi? We’ve been talking about playing together, about finally being on the same team, the same fucking state, for years. What’s not fair is you throwing all of that away on a whim.”

“I’m not committing to UCLA on a whim. This is my whole future we’re talking about. You don’t even know how much thought I’ve put into it. And I’m choosing what’s best for me. You can’t hold that against me Paige. You can’t.”

They stand on opposite sides of the room, taking in harsh staggered breaths and glaring at each other. The tension in the room is electric as the string connecting them frays. Paige and Azzi bicker, they don’t argue. Or at least, that’s how it used to be. 

“Az?” their stare down is broken by a knock on the door as Katie Fudd lets herself in. Immediately, as she stares between her daughter and the girl who’d become just as important, Katie knows what has happened, “we’re going back to the air BnB, are you staying here?”

The answer should be obvious, like it used to be. Of course she would stay here. It was meant to be a no-brainer. But before Azzi can say that, Paige intervenes and the string snaps. 

“She’s going with you,” the blonde says firmly, before turning her back. She won’t let Azzi see the tears, she won’t. For her part, the brunette stares at Paige’s back silently for a couple of seconds, before a mask of determination slips on. 

“Fine. If that’s what you fucking want,” Azzi sneers before brushing past her mom, eager to get away and hide her own tears. 

When Paige turns back around, Katie is already looking at her. The older woman walks the length of the room and pulls the younger girl into a hug that she readily melts into. Paige sniffles as Azzi’s mom soothingly rubs her back. 

“We’re driving back tomorrow morning,” Katie whispers quietly into Paige’s hair, “I know you’re mad sweetheart but come say goodbye okay?”

And she does. She shows up with only half an hour or so remaining before Azzi leaves, but Paige shows up. They hug stiffly, exchanging maybe a sentence or two but in that moment it’s enough. They’ll call later when Azzi gets home and it’ll be awkward for a little bit but they’ll break through. They’ll figure out a way to go on without having to talk about the “big thing”. They’ll hold on as long as they can, until they can’t anymore. 

***

September 2022

After the night Paige stays over at Azzi’s apartment, they're attached at the hip for the next few weeks, just like old times. They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. Azzi shows up without fail every day after practice to pick Paige up from her rehab, and then the rest of the younger girl’s time is Paige’s. The first time she’d seen the brunette leaning casually against her car, Paige had had to stop herself from jumping into her arms. She’d played it as nonchalant as possible, joking about Azzi being stalker, but inside, she could feel it again, the dangerously familiar tap of this is all I’ll ever need. 

On days Paige doesn’t have rehab, Azzi still shows up right on time on her doorstep with a board game or food or something.  It’s gotten to the point where every time the doorbell rings, Paige opens it expecting Azzi. The couple times it’s not, she tries and fails to hide the disappointment on her face. It earns her an eye roll from the delivery guy but it’s worth it for the laugh it elicits from Azzi when she tells her the story. They fall back together as if they’d never fallen apart. And what’s more terrifying than finding out that she’d never truly gotten over old Azzi, is realising how easy it would be to fall in love with new Azzi. 

When Caroline, Nika and Piath come to visit the weekend after, all three of them can immediately tell that something's changed. Their teammate seems lighter, as if she’s finally found a sense of calm. But their incessant prodding and raised eyebrows are only met with shrugs from a tight-lipped Paige. It isn’t until Azzi calls, and Nika snatches the phone out of Paige’s hands, gasping at the callerID, that they finally figure out why their point guard has a new kick in her step. 

“You should invite her out with us tonight,” Caroline is the first to speak, giving Paige an encouraging smile. 

“Carol,” Nika hisses, “we can’t just invite the enemy.”

“She’s not the enemy,” Paige defends immediately, “we don’t even have a rivalry with UCLA.”

Nika scoffs indignantly, “of course she is. She picked a different school over us. Over UConn! That’s weird. Who even does that?”

“Lots of people do,” Caroline, who occasionally texts Azzi (albeit she’s kept that somewhat of a secret), supplies helpfully, shrugging when the Croatian glares at her. 

Piath nudges Paige when she notices the other girl has gone quiet, “ignore Nika. She doesn’t mean it, you know that. If you wanna invite her, invite her.” 

And she does, she wants to so badly. It’s insane really because it hasn’t even been a full day since they’d last seen each other but Paige swears something inside her has been missing since. There’s something awfully terrifying about letting Azzi back into the UConn version of her world, the world that the younger girl had once rejected. Still, if they’re going to try this again, she supposes sooner or later, it’ll have to happen. 

“Put her on speaker,�� Nika orders when Paige grabs her phone back from her. 

“Nika,” Caroline, younger only by age, warns, pulling the other girl away, “we’re supposed to be cheering her up, not making life harder.”

Azzi answers on the third ring, her voice teasing  “miss me already?”

Yes, Paige thinks, sometimes I think I miss you even when you’re right here next to me, sometimes I think I’ll miss you forever. But she doesn’t say any of that. 

“Not a chance,” she scoffs instead, “besides you called me first.”

“Butt dial.”

“Mmmhmm I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” Azzi laughs and Paige is glad her teammates aren’t here to see the goofy grin that appears on her face at the sound of it, “I just wanted to see if we were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah- umm- you remember I told you about the girls coming down this weekend. They- uh- they wanted to go out tonight and uh- you could come along?” 

There’s a pause on the other end and Paige knows Azzi’s going through the same thought process as her. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your time with your team P-”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Paige cuts in immediately and although she figured her teammates were definitely eavesdropping, Nika cursing about her being “pussywhipped” followed by in-sync shushing from Piath and Caroline, gives them away. 

On the other end of the line, Azzi’s quiet again, “it’s okay P, you go have fun with your friends. We don’t have to spend every night together. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What she doesn’t say is that maybe they need to learn how to live like that again, how to live apart again. Paige is almost done with the LA part of her rehab, something both of them are still in denial about. It’s only a matter of time before they return back to their two separate worlds and neither of them are sure they’ve managed to repair their friendship enough to not slip back into their foolishness again. 

“But I wanna see you tonight,” Paige whines, her tone teetering on the edge of sounding like a desperate girlfriend, “please.”

“Paige-”

“Pleaseeeeeee. I’m literally injured and begging Az, it’d be mean to say no.”

“What does your injury even have to do with any of this?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, “but yeah okay fine calm down Bueckers. Send me an address, I’ll be there.”

“You don’t wanna come pregame here?” 

“Dude, let's not push it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah okay see you,” Paige pauses, “hey Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really happy you’re coming tonight.”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

***

Azzi Fudd is a menace. See, people often get fooled by her soft-spoken nature and shy demeanour, but Paige has been around her long enough to know the truth. In the beginning it was the witty quips the younger girl always had ready whenever they were having some ridiculous argument. After that, it was the direct pranks that wreaked havoc on Paige’s life. But tonight, in Paige’s opinion, tonight is Azzi’s worst offence. She had to have done it on purpose, had to have known the sheer effect it would have on Paige to see her dressed like that. The red criss-cross tank top fits her like a mould and the way her ripped jeans shorts cling to her hips leaves little to the imagination. Her diamond belly button piercing shines against her skin, taunting Paige. She wants to touch, she wants to feel, she wants to do all the unspeakable things in her mind but she’s forced to just watch. 

What she hates most though, is that everybody else is watching too. Since Azzi’s walked into the club, Paige has had to fight the urge to strangle every stranger who had given her best friend an appraising once-over. Some of them let their eyes linger long enough to give her time to plot out the perfect murder strategy (it’s the only way she can stop herself from actually committing a crime tonight). And, as Azzi dances with Caroline, hips swaying to the beat and holding the other girl a little closely, Paige has the irrational urge to hit sweet, kind Caroline of all people. 

The thing is, Azzi’s been a little too attached to Caroline since she got here in Paige’s opinion. And she gets it. Piath, bless her soul, is trying but has always been a little awkward around new people. Nika is definitely not trying, loyally holding onto a grudge on behalf of Paige. Which leaves Caroline, who’s already familiar territory and the younger girl has grasped onto her like a lifeline. But enough is enough Paige decides, as she slips out of her seat with a determined look. Smoothly, she cuts right in between Caroline and Azzi.

“Nika’s a little wasted and I don’t want to deal with,” it’s a blatant lie but Paige knows appealing to Caroline’s more motherly instincts will get her what she wants. She gets a raised eyebrow in return, her teammate clearly catching her ruse because Nika looks visibly fine. But it works anyway and Paige gets Azzi to herself. She reaches for the other girl’s hand, twirling her just so she can hear that stupid silly laugh, and then pulling her back so she’s facing Paige. 

“You having fun?” 

“Always have fun with you P,” Azzi replies. She’s clearly tipsy but there’s no hint of insincerity in her voice. It makes Paige’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” she whispers, taking a step closer, “more than with Carol?”

Azzi giggles, “more than anyone.”

The song in the club changes and as the crowd adjusts to it, someone jostles Azzi and immediately Paige grabs at her hips to steady her. As she finds her balance, Azzi’s giggles subside, realising just how close she is to the blonde now. They’re stuck in slow motion as the world dances around them. The combination of adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her veins is what convinces Paige to test the limits. One hand still squeezing at Azzi’s bare waist, revelling in finally getting to touch, she brings up her thumb to trace around Azzi’s lips. The younger girl gulps, but when she doesn’t try to move away, confidence pulses through Paige. Her heart is beating frantically out of her chest, years and years of want and need that she’d shoved as far away as possible, desperately fighting to get to the surface. 

Pushing herself closer, so their chests are now pressed to each other and Azzi’s hands have no choice but to latch onto her biceps, Paige places a delicate, teasing kiss to the corner of Azzi’s lips. She wishes she could record the whine it elicits and listen to it on loop for hours. Smirking, she moves to place another one on the other side, this time pressing her lips a little harder, a little longer. Azzi’s eyes are closed shut, hands gripping onto Paige so tightly, she knows there’ll be a mark on her biceps tomorrow. She cups Azzi’s face with both hands now, her own eyes shutting involuntarily, as she finally, finally brushes their lips together. 

This time, the strangled noise that leaves Azzi’s throat, is one Paige wishes she could forget as the younger girl rips herself away from Paige, the force of it creating almost a foot of distance between them. It doesn’t take long for the familiar sting of rejection to make itself home in her heart. Azzi’s eyes are brimming with tears as she manically shakes her head. Without a word, she rushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, leaving Paige confused and craving for another taste. 

***

It takes Paige a second to gather her thoughts before following the brunette. She ignores the confused glances from her teammates, making some bullshit excuse about fresh air as she fights her way outside. When she gets there, Azzi’s leaning against the wall, eyes closed as she takes in long deep breaths. 

“That’s not usually how girls react when I try to kiss them,” Paige says after a second, trying to make light of the situation, even if her heart is heavy with anxiety. 

It’s the wrong thing to say because Azzi scoffs, “you kiss a lot of girls don’t you.”

“Yeah and most of them kiss me back,” Paige bites back. 

She’s taken aback by the fire in the darker-skinned girl’s eyes as Azzi finally opens them, heaving herself off the wall. 

“I won’t be one of your groupies Paige. I won’t be one of your desperate one night stands. I won’t be just some other hookup. I won’t!”

Frankly she’s a little offended Azzi would even think that of her. She’s aware of her reputation. In fact she’d probably fed into it a little bit, exaggerating her escapades to Azzi on the phone her freshman year, when they had been on the verge of combusing and she’d been desperate to get a rise out of the younger girl. Last year though, last year was different. But Azzi doesn’t know that. 

“I don’t want you to be any of that,” she replies feebly. 

“Then what, do you want me to be?” Azzi’s voice rises with each syllable. 

Paige stutters, the words getting stuck in her throat. The truth is she wants Azzi to be everything. The truth is, Azzi already is everything. Except there’s too much between them and she just can’t say it. They stand in silence until Azzi finally breaks it.

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life,” she says miserably, “and that might be the worst thing ever you know? Because it’s not real. You’re gonna go back to your world and you’ll- you’ll stop replying to my texts and you’ll stop- you’ll stop calling me and I- I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“That’s an awful lot of assumptions you’re making about me,” Paige is on defensive mode now, feeling a fight brewing. 

“Because that’s what happened. Go back through your fucking phone Paige. Look at all the times I tried. And all the times you never did. You just- you cut me out Paige.”

“That’s not fair. You chose fucking UCLA. Over me.”

“No,” Azzi corrects immediately, anger seeping into her tone, “I chose UCLA over UConn. You made it about yourself.”

Paige swallows back a bitter response in favour of trying to prevent a full-fledged argument, “okay, okay let’s not- let’s not do this okay. It’ll be better this time- I- I won’t ignore your calls or texts or you okay? Just- can we just go back inside please?”

“That’s the thing,” Azzi’s anger is gone, replaced by a sad wistful smile, “I don’t know if I believe that you will,” a single tear rolls down her cheek, “I- I don’t fully trust you and you haven’t fully forgiven me. So where do we go from here?”

It’s a lie what they say about the truth setting you free, Paige thinks as Azzi’s words squeeze at her heart, because all it’s done is unleash shackles of despair that holds them both hostage. It had been easy the last couple of weeks, to pretend the last year had never happened. It had been easy for Paige to pretend that she was over what happened, to ignore the part of her brain that still felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Azzi, what are you saying? You don’t- you don’t wanna be friends?” Paige feels nauseous even saying it. 

“No I-” Azzi chews at her bottom lip, “I’m saying this- us- we’re too fragile to complicate even more. I barely- fuck- Paige, I barely survived losing my best friend. I don’t think I could survive losing something more.” 

The worst thing about it all, is that it makes sense. And really, Paige doesn’t know what she’d expected to happen if Azzi hadn’t pulled away when she did. They’d kiss, maybe give in and do more and then what? Shake hands and walk away? Or make false promises that would ultimately lead to resentment? No, Years and years of something deserved better than either of those masochistic endings. It makes sense, it does but it doesn’t mean Paige has to like it. 

In front of her, all the fight evaporates from Azzi’s body, as the younger girl leans back against the brick wall of the club, sliding down and pulling her knees to her chest. She looks every bit as miserable as Paige feels and all the blonde wants to do is wipe away the stress lines creasing against the younger girl’s beautiful phase. She moves to sit down next to her best friend, shuffling so their shoulders are pressed together and intertwines their fingers together. A sigh of relief escapes her when Azzi doesn’t immediately pull away. Instead, she squeezes their hands tighter, as if she’s scared that if she lets go, Paige will disappear. 

“You didn’t lose me you know,” Paige says softly after a second, nudging Azzi’s shoulder when the other girl lets out a noise of protest, “I know, I know it feels like you did. It felt like that to me too except- every time something good or bad happened to me, I heard your voice or- or maybe I just really wanted too. We got lost a little bit but I didn’t- I didn’t lose you and you didn’t lose me. There’s a difference. I don’t think we could ever lose each other like that. Not really.”

When Azzi turns to look at her, the golden glow of the street lights illuminate the emotions in her eyes. She gives Paige a soft smile, “well Bueckers, if basketball doesn’t work out, maybe you have a future in poetry.”

“I could do whatever I wanted,” except what I want to do the most. 

It doesn’t take long for the Uber Azzi’s already called to start pulling up and that familiar ache of longing creeps into Paige’s spine. She knows tonight isn’t their final goodbye; they still have a couple more days. But those days will be spent ignoring and pretending, unlike tonight and the firm grip they have on reality. They rise off of the cold pavement together, dusting themselves off. It takes a second of awkward glances before they’re surging into each other’s arms, squeezing each other so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Paige wills herself not to cry, hiding her face in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“We’ll be okay,” she whispers, unsure if it’s more for her benefit or Azzi’s. 

The unwanted beep of a car is the only reason they reluctantly pull away, hurriedly wiping away unshed tears, they pretend the other can’t see. Azzi musters up a brave smile, before slowly moving away and it takes everything in Paige not to crumble and begs her to stay. Azzi’s halfway to the car when she turns back and it feels like Paige can breathe again. The brunette’s face is conflicted for a second before turning determined, as she starts walking back up. 

“Az-”

Paige’s confusion is stifled as Azzi fists her shirt, pulling her into a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and it’s only a few seconds before the dark-haired girl is pulling away again, but it sets Paige’s entire world off balance. 

“I just-” Azzi’s breathing is rapid and uneven, “I’ve wanted to do that since I was fifteen and- just- fuck- I just-,” she blinks up at Paige, “I hate- I hate leaving things unfinished and for fucks sake if you don’t call me back this time Bueckers- just- don’t be a stranger.”

Paige doesn’t get time to answer, she doesn’t think she could even if she did, because Azzi scurries away almost immediately. She stops when she gets to the car, turning back to give Paige one final look, a look that will haunt Paige forever, before getting into the backseat. As Paige watches the back of Azzi’s uber gets smaller and smaller, her tongue darts across her lips as she tries to memorise the faintest taste of Azzi’s strawberry-flavoured lipstick. And she knows, she’s so utterly and completely and terribly fucked.

[tubasmiracle]

Merry Christmas

Pairing: Soobin x y/n

Genre: Pure fluff ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

Word count: 900 (approx.)

Author's note: it's almost Christmas time, it's not celebrated here but I like the vibes. This is my first, like very very first, proper oneshot, I like it, it's not the best, but it can't be anyway, what's important is I like it hehe. If you want to say something, anything, you are free to drop that in my inbox or dms! Let me know how you like it please!! I would love some feedback!

Song for this:

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

The end of December was in full effect. People were swarming the streets; after all, it was Christmas Eve. Who wouldn't? Through the glass windows of the shop, one could see the television channels advertising and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, chiming bells, and singing carols; it was all so beautiful. Soobin was taking it all in, as much as he could, relishing in the festivity of Christmas, refreshing his mind and eyes after a few long months of relentless hard work.

There he saw, in the corner of his eye, a stranger, running as fast as they could amid the crowd and the snow falling. They went into the telephone box, hastily dialling a number, though were their hands shivering? It was not working so well; he could not tell; they were wearing red gloves. This scene was kind of interesting, and being a little nosy would not hurt anyone, right? So, he went closer, keeping a respectful distance. Like the stranger he was, he realized it was a girl, first of all, and she was dressed up prettily. He was reminded of the Red Riding Hood movie actress.

He could see that, despite her desperate manner of trying to call, it was not working; her eyes were now looking outside the box and met Soobin. She gestured for him to come to her and asked, "I am sorry, but my hands are injured; could you please make a call for me? I am y/n." 

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I am Soobin." Soobin said and took the telephone handle.

"983-4-738219," y/n recited.

Instead of a ring or a pick-up, he heard the on-hold music.

"this cold season you are the only warmth

You're the comfort, we fall in, fall in love

Over the white snow that settled silently

Our hands almost brushing

Taking one step another step my heart races this Christmas"

as good as the song was, he tried calling the person 2-3 times more, but to no avail. He told y/n, "I am sorry, but whoever this is, is not picking up." 

"Oh, she is not?" she said with a disappointed look on her face. "Yeah, what might be the case? If you want to answer obviously." Soobin asked.

"Ah well, in the nearby theater, Home Alone is being released again. My friend and I, who have loved this movie growing up, won two tickets for this movie in the lottery club, but it looks like she won't be able to come." 

"Home Alone?? Oh my God, I love that movie!" Soobin said out of excitement.

"Do you?" y/n asked, now wide-eyed.

"Yes!" Soobin said. Y/n knows one when she sees one; he was as much of a fan of the movie as she was. "Then, do you want to go watch the movie with me?" Y/n asked.

"Can I?" Soobin asked, hopefully with an apprehensive look in his eyes.

"Yup, there is still some time left; how about a warm drink? Hot cocoa is what I am saying. Shall we?" Y/n asked, glancing at her watch. 

"Yes, yes, why not!"

Y/n and Soobin began walking along the pavement path, two feet apart, understandably. Looking around, eyes wandering, taking in the frozen but cosy beauty of it all.

"So, what do you do?" Y/n asked, breaking the ice and stepping on the snow.

"I am a psychologist." Soobin said, scratching his neck.

"Psychologist you say??" Y/n asked, "It's my first time meeting and talking to one! So, how is it? You know, being a psychologist?"

"It's good, it's really good, it was my dream to be one. It's rewarding, tiring at times, but I did rather be tired through this work than anything else." Soobin said, adorning a sweet grin.

"Wow, it must be really good!" Y/n said, "For me, I am a student, a Science Major with honors in Zoology."

"Aw, how is it for you?" Soobin asked, his disposition was one of an interested person.

"I love it!! Zoology was something I came to love, it's so fun for me! I get to learn so many things and just. It's dynamic!" Y/n geeked out.

As the couple was chatting away excitedly, they reached their location, a cozy cafe.

they entered, the cafe had a comforting, warm & cozy ambience, the complete opposite of the outside temperature. They went on the find the table on the window side.

They both ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream on top and talked while their drinks were being prepared, they found out that a lot of their interests matched, like favourites, likes, dislikes etc. even their appearance, a bit, they both resembled a cute bunny.

As their drinks came, y/n took out a disposable camera from her bag, she clicked a photo with hot chocolate and the outside by side. And a few more of each other.

Having finished their drinks now, y/n said "Soobin, I think it's about time, let's go to the movies!"

"Oh okay!"

This time, as they went, they were closer, no more feets apart. For the two young souls, the coldness and numbness of the outside world were in no comparison to the warmth their hearts were feeling. Ultimately, it was a Christmas they will never forget, and will look back at for a long succession of years to come.

[hihhasotherfixations]

Kinktober Day 24: Outdoor Sex - Price x Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone!!🎄🎄 I hope you all are still enjoying all these smutty adventures and not that I’m annoying with them. Would love to hear your thoughts if you wanna share em! Anyways, Today, I bring another UwU

Next one might be a little late because of Christmas with the family, but I’m gonna try :3

CW: Fem!reader, cunnilingus, outdoor sex by a lake, distant exhibitionism

Word Count: 1513

Chuckling as you ran up the hill, John playfully rolled his eyes, being dragged along by the hand as he jogged to keep up.

“You know we don’t have any rush. The sun isn’t going down in ten minutes. It’ll still shine on the lake how you want.” He questioned, though he still dutifully ran along, keeping the picnic basket close.

When John had surprised you this morning with an impromptu picnic date, you were absolutely over the moon. And with him letting you choose where to have the picnic, there was only one answer in mind.

“I’m hungry too, if that counts. I skipped breakfast for this!” You called back and John huffed out a chuckle.

“I told you to eat.”

“And miss stuffing my face with a million of your sandwiches because I’d be too full? No thanks.” You lightly laughed, only to slow down as the both of you reached the top of the hill.

Smiling wide, you gripped Price’s hand a little tighter as you pulled him close, walking to the edge of the hill. There was a steep drop off, almost like a cliff overlooking the lake below.

Far away on the other side, other people were walking and splashing around, the size of ants to the two of you.

“Worth it as always for the view.” You spoke with a smile, more talking to yourself than anything as you referred to the long walk it took to get here.

“Agreed.”

Hearing Price’s voice, you turned around only to see him staring at you with a soft look, a smile playing on his lips. Huffing, you shoved his shoulder while grinning. “Stop being so cliché.”

Raising an eyebrow, Price put down the basket and instead wrapped his arms around your waist from behind while you were still looking at him. “You knew what you were getting into with me, love. I’m old fashioned like that.” He hummed, pulling you close as he then kissed your cheek.

Letting out a little giggle, you then lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck, a warm and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest. “Guess so.” You hummed, only for John to start swaying you back and forth a bit.

“I do mean it though.” He said with a quiet voice. “I’ve seen enough pretty views like this. It’s you and your reaction to it that make it gorgeous to me.”

Unable to keep a smile at bay, you placed a hand on his cheek before leaning in, kissing him.

Closing his eyes, Price eagerly returned the kiss, tightening his arms around your waist to pull you in closer, his head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Making a little noise in the back of your throat, you then took a shocked little breath through your nose as you felt his hands wander, one slipping under your shirt while the other gripped your ass.

Breaking the kiss, John tried to chase but you managed to pull far enough away, giving him a questioning look. “What are you doing?”

“My pretty girlfriend in this secluded spot?” He asked, giving you a sly look. “I’m not passing this opportunity up.” He whispered before slamming his mouth on yours again, pulling your hips into his, where you could feel his hard-on push against you.

“John, the food-“ You whined against his lips, to which he chuckled, briefly breaking the kiss. “I’m hungry.”

“As am I.”

Your eyes widening, you barely had time to register his words before he had thrown down the picnic blanket and pushed you on it, crawling over you.

Starting by your neck, he slowly started kissing down, his hands holding onto your waist as he kissed over your clothes to your stomach, where he lightly pushed your shirt up to kiss the skin directly.

His beard prickled and your breath hitched at the touch while he muttered a “Gorgeous”, pressing several kisses to it.

“You’re insatiable.” You whispered, feeling yourself blush already, to which Price glanced up at you, smirking.

“For you? Always.” With that, he pressed one more kiss to your stomach before moving further down, staring at your pants with a hungry look, though before he did anything else, he looked up. “Are you okay with this?”

Swallowing softly, you rubbed your thighs together, feeling embarrassingly wet as you then nodded. “Of course.” You answered in whisper and Price gave your sides an affectionate squeeze before he moved his hands down, undoing your pants where he then proceeded to push them down your hips with your help.

Glancing at your panties, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the wet patch that had formed on it.

Jolting, you whined. “Don’t tease right now.”

“Sorry, love.” John chuckled, pulling your panties down your thighs, letting it sit by your ankles as he then pushed your knees apart, making room for himself.

Not wasting any time, the brunet started peppering kisses up and down your sex, ending by your clit as he kissed it, flicking his tongue against the little nub.

Gasping, you jolted, your toes curling as he so eagerly started going down on you, now dragging his tongue through your folds, tasting your arousal.

“Mmh, I needed this.” Price groaned into you, his beard rubbing against the insides of your thighs as he lapped from your entrance to your clit, eyes closed as he held you tight.

“John-“ You whimpered, your legs trembling slightly as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, one of his hands trailing up, slipping under your shirt as he started kneading your breast through your bra.

A little whine left you and the man took it as encouragement, kissing back down your cunt before reaching your entrance, teasing it for just a second before he pushed his tongue in.

Letting your head fall back, you gasped as you felt him start to thrust in and out, his free hand moving up to push down on your clit.

“Fuck-“ Letting out a little moan, your face scrunched up as pleasure shot through you, the wind blowing through your hair as you lay there, the sun shining and the vague sound of other people sounding in the far distance.

Realising just how publicly you were doing this, you felt yourself blush, though a moan then escaped you as John’s tongue hit your sweet spot, dragging over your walls as he dragged it out.

“Ah-“ Whimpering out the moan, your hand shot down to tangle in his hair, grabbing hold tightly as you felt your legs shake, your muscles tensing as the brunet doubled his efforts, his thumb rolling over your clit in an almost cruel pace.

Grunting, you covered your mouth with your other hand, feeling your head start to go fuzzy as Price kept going, relentless in his pursuit to make you cum, to taste all of you.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He then mumbled into your cunt, lightly squeezing and rubbing your nipple while returning to eating you out, his mouth fully encompassing you.

“I-I can’t.” You whined behind your hand, your legs starting to slowly close around his head with every thrust of his tongue and rub to your clit.

Feeling that, John groaned appreciatively, his beard almost stinging as he pushed his face further into you, his own shirt ruffled by the wind and exposing the muscles of his back for you.

Seeing that, your eyes turned hazy as your legs trapped his head fully, your body unable to escape his relentless ministrations.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered out a moan, still muffled by your hand as you gripped his hair tighter, pulling his head even closer while you felt him continuously hit your sweet spot, the knot in your stomach tightening while he pushed just a little harder on your clit, making you moan louder.

His hand on your chest squeezed before sensually drawing down your side, your back arching as you pushed your hips into him.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned into your hand, your orgasm washing over you with force.

Feeling your walls start to spasm, John groaned as he eagerly sucked and continued his movements, greedily tasting your cum while the sun shone down on the both of you, his head firmly trapped between your thighs, though there was no place he’d rather be.

Riding out the waves of your orgasm, your legs twitched as you whimpered, feeling John continue to push his tongue into you until it bordered on overstimulating.

“Please-“ You gasped and finally, he relented, letting go.

Feeling his mercy, you opened your legs, freeing his head as he slowly pulled it back, his eyes blown out as he looked at you, a sheen to his facial hair that gleamed in the sun.

Seeing you panting, that post-orgasm look in your eyes, he smiled, leaning down to lick one more stripe up your folds before he helped you get dressed, turning to the forgotten picnic basket after, humming.

“It’s about time I let you eat too, lovie.”

[rollercoasterwords]

I JUST READ THE LAS CHAPTER 😭

Im obssesed Im literally gonna count the days until the next chapter is out .. im gonna go insane .

Totally of topic buuut do u have any wolfstar recs I need sm to take my mind of this masterpiece . I swear I read all the wolfstar fics imaginable so It might hard 💀

Anyway LOVE UU ❤️❤️

thank u!! <3 & sure i can share recs but i haven’t read much new wolfstar fic over the past like. two years lol so most of these will probably be repeats of fics ive rec’d before…the faves etc…

oneshots:

crushed ice by sectoren @sectoren

your hand in mine and other brief, annihilating intimacies by superloonyluna @superloonyluna

all the lonely people by superloonyluna

the son and heir of nothing in particular by aeridi0nis @steelycunt

merry christmas, war is over by dykesiriusblack @dykefever

multi-ch fics:

last of the summer sun by superloonyluna [wip] (can u tell i’m obsessed w vi’s writing…)

bury a friend by invisiblemuseum @theinvisiblemuseum

of memories and milk thievery by moonymoment @mayescapade

crimson rivers by bizarrestars

dear your holiness by mollymarymarie @mollymarymarie

the road not taken by mollymarymarie

that’s the art of getting by by sarewolf @sarewolf

beneath a big blue sky by eyra @eyra

[asuyaka]

SHUT THE FLIPPING FRONT DOOR-

I JUST SAW DLSK ON UR LIST AND NOW I FEEL OBLIGATED TO REQUEST

How about some general HCS for Saiki(we all saw that coming), Aiura and Teruhashi(all separately) for Reader spending quality time with them during the weekend or holidays, just some good fluff for this wacky and over-the-top anime(/pos ofc). Could be platonic or romantic, I don't mind either!

Also if you don't write for multiple characters then just quality time spending one-shot with Saiki is fine too.

- Sincerely, 🌈 Anon.

★ - aaaa!!! DLSK 's literally 'm comfort anime— m soso normal rn!!

☆ - Saiki Kusuo, Aiura Mikoto, & Teruhashi Kokomi x Male Reader! (Platonic !! :3 )

He’s honestly so confused because… why do you wanna spend time with him??

It isn’t like you’re all hanging out in your group (of friends he didn’t want) it’s just the two of you. 

He’s read your mind, maybe you had some sort of ulterior motive? Like maybe you wanted to hang out because of his… smarts or something? He’s made sure to be average in all forms of school, average enough for him not to fail and at the same time not be too noticeable.

But no. You want to hang out with him because he’s fun to hang out with.

It isn’t that he hates your company, you aren’t as dumb as the people he regularly hangs out with (Bless him and his ability to keep up with Nendou Riki of all people) and you know when to keep a comfortable silence if the situation calls for it.

Well… since you insist on spending the holidays, he has to let you, right?

“Ooh! What about these, Saiki?” You ask excitedly, holding up two pairs of matching heart-shaped glasses. 

There was a Christmas sale going on, and you decided it would be fun to go glasses shopping for no real reason, you just thought it would be fun.

Saiki, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care what you get. He’s just here because you forced asked him to come. 

A soft smile adorns your face anyway. It doesn’t matter that Saiki is barely adding any input, you know him well enough— at least you hope so— to pick up the small details in his body language. 

“Can I take off your glasses for a second?” You know how protective Saiki is of his glasses and you assume it’s because his eyes are sensitive to light. 

Saiki takes the glasses from your hands, turns around, making sure to close his eyes the second he takes his glasses off, and puts on the Hello Kitty pair you gave him.

“Aww! You look adorable!” You coo, a pair of Kuromi glasses on your face. You assumed they were a matching pair, they were close enough on the shelves for it anyway. 

Saiki didn’t point out the fact that they were beach glasses, not because he wanted to keep the smile on your face— no, no, no, he’s psychic, he doesn’t care about anyone else’s feelings! 

…Though he can’t lie that the smile on your face makes him content in a way.

You pull him in, holding up your phone in a selfie position. Your hands making bunny ears behind Saiki’s head. “Merry Christmas!” You say happily as Saiki holds up a peace sign, his signature RBF never leaving.

You don’t mind though. RBF or not, Saiki’s face is very pleasing to look at. Saving the picture and saving it as your wallpaper, you look back at Saiki who still had the Hello Kitty glasses on, surprisingly.

“There’s a cafe nearby, and they’re having a Christmas sale. We can go there, or head back to your place?” 

“Cafe.” 

You nod, paying for the items and making your way to fill Saiki’s love for pastries.

Saiki’s lips curl upwards, a small— tiny– minuscule amount. 

Whatever this is, it’s nice. Just the two of you and the soft snowflakes of the winter. 

It’s a calming feeling. One he really enjoys.

 Yes, yes, yes, yes, and did I already say… yes?

She loves loves loves loves (!) spending time with people she cares about, so of course you aren’t any different!

 Her fortune-telling gig is always a bit busy during Christmas, but you don’t mind waiting!

When she finally gets off work, you two decide to go shopping, because… Christmas sales, hello???

Literally, the best and worst are crafted during that time together.

You two spend so much money, it really—seriously— isn’t funny.

“Mikoto! Here, try these!” You say excitedly, gaining some odd stares from other people who are shopping, but you two couldn’t care less.

It’s Christmas, you two have a shit ton of money saved up, and you’re planning to go broke.

Mikoto grins, holding up the outfit you got for her. It’s a black crop top with a small heart at the top that was bound to show some cleavage with how big her chest was, paired with denim shorts white legs, and hand warmers.

She takes it into the changing room and you go looking for more outfits, or some jewelry. You needed more earrings anyway. 

A few minutes later, Mikoto walks out and your expectations are immediately met. She looks nothing short of beautiful. 

“I like this one a lot! Think we can get a matching pair for you?” You shrug, but begin looking in the same area where you got the clothes for her.

It took a bit of time and a bit of accessory confusion, but your matching outfits were assembled. Your shorts were a bit longer because the store, unfortunately, didn’t have short shorts like the ones Mikoto had in the men's section.

Other than that, everything else matched to a T. From the shirt—which showed the slightest bit of your pectorals— to the shoes, to the rings and necklaces. 

Mikoto holds up her phone, a bright smile on her face. “Cheese!!” The two of you say, both of your hands together to make a heart. 

She sends it to you and Saiki because she wants him to be ‘jealous’ or whatever. 

“What do you say we go get bubble tea and dango?” 

You gasp. “I’m totally on board with that.”

The two of you laugh softly, take the clothes off, and go pay. Expensive? Hell yes, but working more shifts than you normally did paid off—literally.

Of course, you want to spend time with her! She’s the most perfect, quintessential pretty girl after all!

She won’t tell you that she’s surprised a guy just wants to hang out with her just to hang out. 

No funny business, not because you have a crush on her, but because you thought it would be fun to spend the holidays together.

(Un)Fortunately, she is God’s favorite so you two really can’t go outside unless you want to get stared at the entire time.

If you don’t mind, then she doesn’t mind either. She’s used to it anyway.

It’s odd at first, she thought you wanted to use her to boost your popularity, or impress your friends, but later into the sleepover(?) she realized you just wanted to spend time together, as friends.

As odd as it is—Saiki is the only man who seems to be weak to her charms, and it looks like you are too— it’s a… welcome feeling, to say the least.

You and Teruhashi are in your room, watching an old Christmas movie you found in your closet a few weeks ago. Both of you had hot cocoa in your laps, paired with a plate of gingerbread cookies and graham crackers.

“Teruhashi…” You start, keeping your eyes on the screen. “Do you want to make cinnamon rolls?”

Her eyes widen, having to push down the excitement so you don’t think she’s childish. “Yeah, of course!”

The two of you smile and rush downstairs, you make a quick pit stop to tell your mother what you two were planning to do and all she tells you is to not burn the house down.

You grab all the ingredients needed and Teruhashi grabs all the bowls, whisks, and whatever baking equipment you two may need.

“Alright! Now, let’s get started!” You say in confidence and Teruhashi nods.

A beat of silence stretches out between you two as you aimlessly stare at the glare in the mixing bowls. “...I can’t bake.” 

“...I can’t either.”

You two stare at each other with blank expressions before starting to laugh. It’s a nice, playful sound that you two share together. Teruhashi thinks it’s alright that she’s able to have fun without someone trying to impress her 24/7, but she’s not going to tell you that!

“You know what they say, right Teru?” 

She cocks her head confusedly. “Fake it ‘till you make it?”

You finger-gun at her. “Exactly! And if we do burn the house down, this was my brother’s idea, not mine!”

She rolls her eyes but takes out the flour, sugar, eggs, and milk. The two of you silently decide that you’re going to do all the mixing, and Teruhashi will do all the measuring/putting it in the bowl.

As the two of you work in tandem, you’re also singing Christmas songs along with her. From old to new, slight romantic undertones or not, it’s fun.

And that only gets better when you have to leave the dough to rise. Straight Karaoke the entire time. You’re sure your throat is going to hurt later from all the mild yelling you’re doing, but who cares? 

If you’re having fun with someone you care about, you’ll worry about pain later.

Surprisingly, you two didn’t burn the house down.

The cinnamon rolls do come out a tad, just slightly dry, but they taste amazing.

You and Teruhashi high-five. “We should do this again next year, but invite everyone else. What do you think?” You ask, taking a sip of your now slightly lukewarm hot cocoa.

Teruhashi is a bit conflicted. It would be nice if you invited the girls and Saiki over because she knows she can kind of be herself around them, but everyone else? 

You notice her nervousness because you immediately say: “Or it can just be the both of us. No worries.” You shrug, taking a bite of the cinnamon roll that is 100% too hot to be in your mouth at the moment.

Teruhashi smiles at that. “Just the two of us is fine.”

You bump hips with her, carrying the plate of cinnamon rolls upstairs and to your room. 

Teruhashi follows shortly after. The type of friendship you two have is something she would never give up. 

Not even to make Saiki say ‘Oh wow!’ to her face.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

✨ New Patreon Upload! ✨

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Head over now to check it out and show some love! 🙌

📖 Link in bio! ✨ Let me know your thoughts after reading! 💬

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Under The Mistletoe

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where you kiss under the mistletoe.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Trent Alexander-Arnold x You

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 4.1k

Warnings! FLUFF!! so much fluff, Merry Christmas, y'all!!

Preview

**********

“You’re quiet,” Trent observes as you settle on the couch. There’s a question in his tone, but he doesn't pry, content to wait for you to respond.

You shrug. “It's been a while since I've been around this many people. I guess I'm just absorbing it all.” It’s not a lie, not entirely, but there's something more too, something you not telling him.

The air feels thick between you, the silence a living thing that stretches and shifts as you sit there. It’s a comfortable silence though, not uncomfortable or heavy, just two people taking in the sights around them.

Trent's watching you, you realize, you can feel his gaze seeping into your skin but you don't have the courage to face him. So instead, you just say, "You're quiet too."

“I don't like big groups all the time,” he admits, his tone easy.

“Well, we're the odd ones out then,” you say, smiling. “Looks like we're the introverts.”

He chuckles. “Guess so.” He leans back against the couch, looking surprisingly at ease. “It’s okay though, I like it being the two of us better anyway.”

Heat floods your cheeks at that, and you don’t dare look up. “Yeah, same” you say, your voice low.

It feels like the room around you becomes blurry, like you're having an out-of-body experience. You're aware of every breath, every mouvement, every second. It’s all too real, too intense. And yet, you don't want to pull away.

**********

-Bianca🌻

[thatgoblin]

If I'm There

Summary: You hadn't seen or spoken to him in over a year, but now you have to track down your ex-husband over unpaid parking tickets. It was supposed to be easy, but seeing him with his new partner made it anything but.

Soulmates AU, Simon/Johnny/Reader

Warnings: so much angst, past child death, alcoholism, divorce, heavy stuff, but happy ending.

A/N: I'm not completely pleased with it, I don't feel very strong with Simon and Johnny’s characters in this, but posting anyways. It's part of a series I had written a while ago, but it works as a one shot too. Song is 'If I'm There' by Bad Omens.

“Riley! I got a job for you!” 

I looked up from the paperwork I had been doing, bored out of my mind before stuffing it into the file it had come in. 

“Yes! Farah, love of my life, light of my heart, tell me it’s a good one,” I said, walking over to get a look from her. 

“Seems you’re on the hunt for a blast from your past,” the dark haired woman said, handing me a file. “12 unpaid parking tickets and has not shown up to court.” I opened the file, wanting to throw it away immediately, but seeing the large bounty on it, I kept it. It wasn’t often that amount was put out on people for nonviolent crimes and I wasn’t about to pass up something so easy. “Also a second one. 4 unpaid speeding tickets, 3 failure to signal tickets, and 1 ticket for having a pet off leash. . . An emu.” Farah handed me another file and the bounty was just as much. 

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” I said with a snort. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“It’s April,” Farah said evenly before turning back to the computer. 

“Well, it’ll feel like Christmas when I turn these two idiots in,” I said, taking their addresses to shove into my back pocket in case my first plan didn’t work. “With a nice bonus for you too.”

“Oh happy days,” Farah said dryly. 

“You know, you could be a bit more cheery about life,” I said, folding the legal paperwork I needed before putting it into my jacket pocket. 

“I could, but then we’d be friends and we can’t have that,” Farah said, not looking back.

“Of course, we wouldn’t want that,” I said, grabbing my phone from my desk. “Alright, I’m off. Hold down the fort and don’t set it on fire. Again.”

“I make no promises,” Farah said as I walked out the door. Walking over to my car, I pulled out my phone to dial a number I had deleted from my phone over a year ago. As I sat in the car, a little voice in the back of my head told me to ignore this job. That it was inviting chaos and discourse back into my life after I had struggled to get some sort of peace. I had to see him at some point and it was probably easier to do it this way rather than during an awkward grocery store run in. Tapping the numbers was second nature and I didn’t even hesitate on a single digit. I held the phone to my ear as I coached myself to stay cool.

“Hello?” A man’s voice came over the line. I hadn’t heard it in nearly a year, but it still sounded the same. “Hello?”

“Hey. . . It’s me,” I said, swallowing back every urge that wanted to throw the phone into the street and speed away. “I really need to talk to someone. Are you free right now?” There was a sigh then silence. I thought he’d hung up on me, but a jostling noise told me he was still there.

“Sure, where do you want to meet?” He asked, his tone flat.

“Joe’s Coffee Shop? Half an hour?” I asked. I felt a little bad about tricking him, but then again I had bills to pay and he clearly was already done with me. So I didn’t feel too bad. 

“Okay, see you there,” he said before hanging up. 

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

The drive to the coffee shop was short thankfully and I was able to get a good parking spot to wrangle my targets into it. Hereford had its ups and downs, but the ups were that it really wasn’t as big as everyone thought. My ex and I had lived there for most of our adult lives before we split. Going our separate ways had meant chaos and disarray at first, but then I got my current job after a few months and it was something I could throw myself into. 

We stayed in this area because while it was on the west coast, it was also a close knit community of sorts. People knew each other, local places were more abundant than chains, it just felt like back home. At Joe’s, I pulled up to park on the street before getting out of my black sedan. 

Joe’s Coffee Shop was a local favorite with an outdoor patio. It was April and a sunny day so there were lots of people there sunbathing while sipping on iced coffees. Going in, I ordered one myself before picking a spot outside. Lazily sipping my drink, I pulled out my phone to check the time. I was never patient and even when I was early and he was on time, it had always got on my nerves. 

“Hey.” 

I looked up to see him standing there with that blank look he always had. Mostly hidden by his black face mask. It was the same one I made him that had the lower half of a skull printed onto it. He always wore a balaclava with a similar print, but walking around with that got him into trouble a lot. So, I made a face mask for him. I had taken the time to learn to sew and make patterns when I was not a crafty person. Seeing him still wearing it, I was thrown off my game.

“Hey Simon,” I said, standing up. Did I hug him? Shake hands? High five? Regret was filling my stomach as he stood there. We’d divorced over a year ago and hadn’t talked to each other since, but now his stupid unpaid parking tickets brought him back into my life.

We were supposed to be soulmates. We had the marks that everyone was born with. Everyone had a soulmate, people even had more than one at a time. It was supposed to mean we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, like some magical fairy tale that adults tell children. 

If you found your soulmate you would feel more deeply, be more in tune with the other, have this special bond that no one else could have with you. Simon and I had had that bond. 

But then we didn’t. 

Things changed and we lost the bond or it broke or something and we couldn’t hack it. So, we divorced. I covered my mark on my hand with a small black bar tattoo, but Simon didn’t. I hated that he still had it. Just three simple arrows in a row on his forearm. We were meant to be together, so say the powers that be, but we proved them wrong. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. 

“Everythin’ okay?” He asked, sitting across from me, shaking me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, just. . . Got lost for a second,” I said, sitting down as well. 

“Are you seein’ that counselor still?” He asked. I nodded, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t there to catch up, I was there to collect a bounty. “Good,” he said.

“The reason I called you to talk in person is that I have a question,” I said, pulling out the legal paperwork. 

“About what?” Simon asked with a frown.

“12 unpaid parking tickets? You have 12 unpaid parking tickets?” I asked as I shook my head at him, holding up the warrant.

“What about them?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the papers. “How do you know about that?” 

“Because you’ve got a warrant out for your arrest,” I said. “And I’m here to take you in.”

“Jesus,” Simon groaned, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “You’re a bounty hunter now?”

“Yup. I was going to turn yours down, but the money was too good to give to someone else,” I said with a snort. Simon pinched his nose as he stayed sitting.

“This is a joke, isn’t it? It’s a really bad joke,” he said, looking at me. “Just tell me it’s a joke.”

“Not a joke,” I said, showing my badge and permit. “You never paid the tickets or showed up to court.” 

“Fuck me,” Simon hissed. 

“Everythin’ okay, Simon?” A Scottish brogue said.

I turned to see another man with a mohawk and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen walk over with a pair of coffees in hand. Wait a second. 

“Don’t tell me, you’re Johnny MacTavish?” I asked, looking up at him. 

“Uh, I am,” the man said, frowning as he looked at me.

“Oh wow, this has got to be the luckiest break ever!” I said, laughing as I stood up. 

“Simon?” Johnny said, frowning.

“Easiest job I’ve ever had,” I said, pulling out the handcuffs from my belt.

“You’re not actually goin’ to take me in,” Simon said, tilting his head to look up at me. “This is just a heads up, right?”

“Oh no. I’m for real arresting you both right now,” I said. “Unpaid parking tickets, jay walking and traffic tickets, no shows in court, and a fucking emu? This is truly an April Christmas miracle.” 

“I’m still confused, Simon?” Johnny said, looking at the other man. 

“Wait, how do you two know each other?” I asked, realizing they had shown up together.

“Johnny, this my ex-wife,” Simon said as he stood up. “And this is my boyfriend, Johnny.”

I did not expect to feel that pang in my chest hit so hard. Of course he moved on. Why wouldn’t he? He had been the more grounded of us after the dust settled. I had no right to feel jealous or hurt by it. If he hadn’t been in trouble then I would have had no idea anyways. 

“Wait, so she’s the one-” Johnny started.

“Yes, she is the one,” Simon nodded. “Now, when you’re done havin’ a laugh, I have to go. We have plans. Can’t believe after almost a year of not talkin’ and avoidin’ each other this is how you choose to show up again.”

“Oh, uh, it was nice to meet you,” Johnny said, tentatively holding out his hand for me to take after setting his drinks down. Fuck this. I slapped a cuff onto Johnny who cried out in confusion as I easily turned him to get his other hand. 

“I wasn’t kidding,” I grunted as I handled Johnny, directing him to my car.

“Are you fucking’ kiddin’ me right now!?” Simon snapped. 

“Like I said, I have arrest warrants for both of you. You’re lucky I even told you that,” I snapped back at him. Opening the car door, I put Johnny in the back before shutting the door. Simon didn’t seem to think it was going to go far, instead choosing to get on the phone with someone. 

“Yes, hello?” He said before I ripped his phone from him to hang up. “What the hell!?”

“Simon, just let me cuff you so we can get this over with and we can move on with our lives,” I said. 

“What is wrong with you? Normal ex’s don’t arrest each other,” he said, as I was able to get the cuffs on him just as easily.

“Yeah, well, we’re not normal ex’s,” I said with a sigh, putting the cuffs extra tight on his wrists. “Now shut up and get in the car.” Dragging him to the other side, I pushed him in next to Johnny before getting in myself. 

“Are we being kidnapped?” Johnny asked as I pulled out onto the road.

“You’ve both have warrants out for your arrest because you two dumbasses didn’t pay tickets on time or show up to court,” I said. “5 years we were together and you never learned to pay the damn tickets.”

“I was goin’ to pay them,” Simon said with a huff. “I’ve been busy.”

“Uh huh,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. Johnny seemed to just be in a constant state of confusion, but kept quiet at least. The drive to the police station was shorand usually if there was more than one to book I would have other people with me, but given that those two weren’t going to really give me trouble, I didn’t worry too much. With both of them in cuffs and compliant, I was able to get them booked easily enough. 

“Hey, Riley,” the officer at the desk, Roach, called as Simon and Johnny were being taken to be processed. I paused in my get away, ready to run as far and fast as I could.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Yeah?” I said, walking back over. I could see Simon staring at me hard from the cubicle he was in with Johnny that was just a couple of meters away. No doubt he heard the officer call me back over, still using his last name.

“Just need you to sign a few things for us,” Roach said. 

“Alright fine, but it better be quick, I got a lunch date with a Blood Mary,” I said with a huff. 

“You never changed your name,” Simon said, looking at me with a frown. 

“Uh… No, no I did not,” I said, keeping my eyes on the papers in front of me. 

“Why didn’t you change your name?” He asked.

“Because it’s a bitch to file paperwork and I’ve already been writing it for nearly 5 years. I made it a habit,” I said, glancing at him.

“No, no, you were filin’ for divorce before you even brought it up to me. You filed everythin’ before sayin’ a word,” Simon pushed. “Why didn’t you change your name?”

“I swear to god, Simon,” I hissed, slamming the pen on the counter. The small police station should have been buzzing about with noise, but as Simon kept demanding, everything and everyone went quiet. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t change your last name,” he pushed. 

“Because I still love you, okay?!” I snapped, whirling to glare at him. “I still love you, but we are not good together and it’s one piece of us that I can have without trouble. So there, there’s your answer, in front of your new boyfriend, too.”

“Love,” Simon said with a sigh. 

“Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “Anything else for me to sign?” I asked, turning back to glare at Roach. 

“Uh, no that’s it,” Roach said. I hadn’t meant to crumble so easily. I thought I was stronger than that, but seeing him again, with someone else. . . What was I supposed to do? We used to be so good together, but then everything happened and shit hit the fan. I couldn’t be as soft as I once was and I couldn’t let him back in. It wasn’t fair to him. Not after the shit I put him through. 

“Thanks,” I said, turning on my heel. Thankfully no one called after me again, letting me get to my car and drive home in peace. Getting home, I walked in to shut the door behind me. It was barely 2pm but there I was going right for the vodka in my freezer. I’d been sober almost four months, but seeing Simon. . . I couldn’t. It was supposed to be an easy grab and go, he’d get pissed and grouchy while I hauled his ass to jail. 

Then it turned into a sudden confession at the police station in front of everyone and their dog to see and hear. I hoped that was the last I’d seen of him for a while. If ever. 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

Pulling a glass from my cupboard, I put a handful of ice in it before filling it with the liquor. I brought the glass to my lips, but paused. On the fridge was a magnet with a purple heart on it and the name ‘Dierdre’ in cursive letters. Staring at it, I held onto the drink as that ache brought back by Simon deepened. Like a scab reopening to become infected. The burning smell of the vodka was enough to pull me from scratching that open wound. Slowly, I set the glass down. That job was a mistake and I knew it the whole time. I thought maybe the money would soften any damage done or any hurt feelings, but it hadn’t done a damn thing.

Taking a deep breath as my mind threatened to unravel any second, I reached out to grab the bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the cap, I let it drop to the counter. The feel of the icy bottle in my hand helped pull me up from the warmth of depression that was pulling me into its arms. I tipped the bottle to watch the clear liquid pour into the sink, splashing and running down the drain. When the bottle was empty, I did the same to the drink I had made. 

Standing in silence, I let out a sigh before moving to my living room, leaving the empty bottle on the counter.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I pulled off my boots and jacket, texting Farah that I had everything signed and turned in and that I was done for the day. Shutting my phone off, I moved to flop onto the couch after peeling off my tight jeans. My bra went flying behind me, letting me settle in the warm weather with my windows open. The apartment was modest as Simon had kept almost everything in the divorce. I didn’t want it, so I left the house and anything I didn’t readily need with him. It was for the best. I didn’t need much and it made for less stuff when I moved. 

Flipping on the TV, I turned it to good ol’ golf. I could put golf on at any time and it would put me in a dreamless sleep. That was what I needed. No dreams, no thoughts, no worries or wonders. Just the comfortable void that I could exist in without overwhelming feelings of any kind. In minutes I was passed out on the couch. 

Until someone pounded on my front door. 

Groggily, I looked around, confused as the sun had set and I was chilly in my underwear and tank top. Another loud knock came that had me glaring at the offending door. 

“I’m coming!” I yelled, going to the door. Beside it in a small side table, I hid a Glock for when unsolicited callers came to the door. It was registered and everything, but wasn’t kept completely legal considering it wasn’t locked up with the ammo separated. My previous job and being a bounty hunter didn’t exactly make for the safest of conditions and the bad guys wouldn’t wait for me to put in my combination to my safe. “Who is it?” I asked, hand on the gun hidden under the table top. 

“It’s Simon.” Quiet a moment, I scrunched my face in frustration while holding back the urge to tell him to fuck off.

“What do you want?” I asked, not letting him in or taking my hand off the gun. 

“I want to talk to you,” he said. I heard him shifting around, waiting for me to answer. The thought of climbing out my window crossed my mind, but he’d just follow right behind me. Sighing heavily, I took my hand from the gun before I unlocked the door to open it. “Thank. . . You,” he said, his eyes trailing down my body. “Well then.”

“I was napping,” I grumbled, stepping aside. “Besides you’ve seen more of that.” I pushed the door to shut it, but it stopped when Johnny popped in. “Excuse me?” I said, looking between the two. 

“We need to talk about earlier,” Simon said as Johnny walked in. “All three of us.”

“I don’t understand,” I groaned, scrubbing my face. “Why are both of you here?”

“Do you wanna put some pants on? We can turn around,” Johnny offered. I stared at him before looking to Simon. 

“Just go have a seat on the couch, Darlin’,” Simon said with a soft sigh, rubbing Johnny’s arm. My eye twitched at the gesture and nickname, but I stayed quiet. 

“I���ll be right back,” I said, going to the bedroom which was technically part of the living room. It had a partition set up to kind of offer a sense of it being a different room, but I didn’t try that hard. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and hoodie to pull on before I rejoined the two men. Johnny sat on the couch, watching some show on TV that had come on during my nap while Simon was in the kitchen, holding the empty liquor bottle. 

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

“I thought you said you were goin’ to counselin’,” he said softly. 

“I am,” I said, taking the bottle from him to put in the recycling. “It was in the freezer from almost 6 months ago. I poured it out.”

“Are you bein’ honest with me?” Simon asked, looking at me. His dark eyes looked scared, worried, unsure. It was more than he gave me earlier that day at the coffee shop.

“I am,” I said. “Promise.”

“Good,” Simon said with a nod before motioning to the couch.

“So, what was it you two wanted to talk about?” I asked, pulling over a chair from my table as Simon sat next to Johnny. 

“Aren’t you curious how we found ye?” Johnny asked as I turned off the TV. 

“Not really. I know how you found me,” I said. “One of two options. Either you tracked me back through my phone records or you talked to my office manager, Farah. Who honestly should know better than to give my address out, but I assumed you pestered her enough that she caved.”

“Wow, she is good Simon,” Johnny said with a smile. 

“I told you,” Simon said with a chuckle. I felt a hint of heat in my cheeks. Simon told Johnny about me? About how I was good at seeing things others didn’t? “Sorry, I told him you used to be a private investigator and he thinks it’s the greatest thing.”

“I love all those detective movies where the police don’t believe the evidence, but that rogue investigator finds it all out and cracks the case!” Johnny said excitedly. It was almost annoying, but it was also sweet. I hadn’t felt excited, truly excited, like that in a long time and didn’t know if I ever could again.

“It was mostly catching people cheating on each other,” I said, rubbing my face. “Hate to break the dream for ya.”

“That’s not what Simon said,” Johnny said. It was Simon’s turn to get a bit red in the cheeks. 

“Oh really? What did he say?” I asked, crossing my legs as I leaned forward.

“Not why we’re here,” Simon said, covering Johnny’s mouth with his hand. 

“Then why are you here?” I asked, turning my attention to him. 

“We’re here to talk about us,” Simon said, motioning between me and him. 

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, sitting back up to cross my arms over my chest. “We’re divorced. We gave it a shot and it didn’t work out.”

“No, we gave it a shot and you called it quits. I was willin’ to work it out,” Simon said with a sigh.

“Obviously you don’t want to anymore, you brought your boyfriend over,” I said, motioning to Johnny.

“Johnny, go ahead and show her,” Simon said, looking to the other. 

“Show me what?” I asked. Johnny glanced from me to Simon before he pulled up his shirt and pulled his pants down a bit. On his right hip was his soulmate mark. I swallowed hard, looking at it as tears pricked my eyes. It was the same as me and Simon’s. Three small arrows. “Well, good for you, you found a soulmate after I covered my mark,” I said. “You wanted to let me know you’d moved on completely and that I shouldn’t contact you again.”

“No, that’s not it,” Simon said as Johnny sat back down.

“Then what is it, Simon?” I snapped. “What do you want? I filed for divorce, I left you, I moved away from you, and the first time I called you in nearly a year is to arrest you, so you think that means anything?”

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

“You said at the station that you were still in love with me,” Simon said.

“No, I said I still loved you. There’s a difference. I’m not in love with you,” I said. It was mean and cruel, but I couldn’t let him think there was a chance we’d have a happily ever after. I was too much of a mess and barely managed to keep myself going most days as a functioning adult. 

“But you could be,” Johnny said. I narrowed my eyes at him, snarling almost, but he didn’t flinch. “You could fall back in love with him.”

“I. . . I am not the person I used to be, Simon,” I said, trying to swallow back tears. “I’m not the girl you fell in love with and I probably won’t ever be her again. I’m not who you want or need.” 

“Maybe Johnny’s right,” Simon said, scooting closer to me. “We’re both different people, but we could fall in love again.”

“It has been over a year, Simon,” I said. “You moved on with Johnny and I moved on. What is the point of us getting back together? We’re not good together.”

“No, we were,” Simon said. “We just lost each other when we lost Dierdre.”

“Don’t,” I snapped, close to losing it. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“You shut down so hard and pushed me so far away when we lost her, Love,” Simon said, reaching out to touch my knee. I pulled away instantly like his touch burned me. I sat rigid in my seat as I refused to look at him. “We made mistakes and we fucked up. I fucked up. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me.” His voice was catching, making it hard to steel myself, to keep myself in my self appointed isolation. “It’s not your fault and I don’t blame you for anythin’. The drinkin’, the lyin’, the fights, I don’t blame you. Neither of us were in the right. I. . . I never stopped lovin’ you. Even when I met Johnny, I still loved you just as much as I did before. I still do.”

I shook my head, feeling my shell crack as tears slid down my face. 

“You had a miscarriage, Love. We lost our baby girl and I thought I lost you too,” Simon choked out. We didn’t talk like this after we got home from the hospital. I had been seven months pregnant when something happened. There were sharp pains that I shouldn’t have had. Before we knew it I was in the hospital bleeding, hemorrhaging. The sac she was in didn’t develop right and it burst. By the time I was in delivery she was already gone. I barely made it out alive. 

“You’re not just one event in your Simon’s life,” Johnny said suddenly, making me flinch. “A loss of a child is one of the hardest emotional pains to endure and a lot of couples do divorce afterwards because it seems like the world has come down upon you. It’s okay to feel those feelings and work through them, but it seems that you didn’t want to or didn’t have the capacity at the time to work through it with Simon. These things take time and that may be what was needed. Time.”

“Johnny was my counselor for a while,” Simon said with a soft chuckle. I looked at him, seeing the tears running down his cheeks, his mask off. It was the first time I had seen his face since before the hospital visit. “Then for obvious reasons I started seein’ a different counselor.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“The heart wants what it wants,” Johnny said with a soft smile and a shrug. “All that aside, with everything Simon has told me, I couldn’t deny him of seeing you. He loves you too much and I love him. I want us to be happy and even if that means we have separate relationships with Simon or if you just want to be friends again, I am all for it. Being married and together for so long, as well as soulmates, makes for an intense relationship, but also one you can’t just forget and burn a bridge to with something like you guys. All I ask is that you consider it and we’ll work through it together.”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’m ready or ever will be ready.”

“Love,” Simon said, reaching out to grasp my hand that had gripped my knee tightly. “We don’t have to pick up where we left off. I just. . . I need you in my life. Please.” 

God, the feel of his hand around mine made me want to curl into a ball in his lap, let him rock me and hold me. It was so hard to keep myself in check. 

“So, this is about making yourself feel better?” I said, trying to make a wedge between us. He needed to leave and move on with Johnny. They could be happy together, adopt, get a dog. I was too broken and missing pieces. There was no way that I could go back to him, not because he had been the cause, but because I was certain I would only hurt him again when he saw how badly I was cracked. “I told you, Simon. I am not who I was when we met, let alone when we got married. This version of me is not someone who is the loving and caring partner that is soft and a safe place to land.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“How about a reset?” Johnny said. I looked at him confused, unsure what he was getting at. “You wipe the slate clean, you start over. That means, you start out as friends again, move on from there. I find it helps couples that feel they can’t get over certain bumps in the road to have an imaginary reset button. It’s been a year since you two have been around each other, you’re obviously in different places in your lives, and you have changed. A reset would probably be the best thing for you two if you want to be around one another again.”

“So what, we just pretend nothing happened before now?” I asked with a scoff.

“No, you definitely don’t do that,” Johnny said. “You start fresh. You acknowledge that you both have a past, but you don’t work around it. You work with it.” 

“I’m on board for whatever you want,” Simon said. I took a deep breath, holding Simon’s hand without realizing it. 

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

“I can’t,” I said, pulling my hand away from him. “I just can’t.” That sucking pit in my chest that had snuck up on me was gasping to get more of me. 

“You don’t have to punish yourself for losing a child,” Johnny said. He had gone to his knees in front of me, making me see his face as he looked up at me. His words were spoken softly, but a force to pull me back from that place I was comfortable with. Where it was dark and lonely and it made sense to feel guilt. “You did everything you could to keep her safe and loved her so much. You were a good mum. It’s not your fault.”

All I could do was stare at him as he nodded, taking my shaky, clammy hands in his large, rough ones. I had manhandled him into cuffs earlier without hesitation, moving on instinct, and now I was in his calm, grounding grasp. “But-”

“It will never be your fault. There is no need to punish you for something that was not your doing. You deserve to be loved and have someone be there for you. This was not a failure on your part and never will be. You can let go of that weight. You’re not alone anymore and don’t have to be again.”

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

“Okay,” I choked out. “I. . . I want to try the reset thing.”

“We’ll go slow and easy,” Simon said. 

“I want to start as friends, with both you and Johnny,” I said looking from Simon to Johnny.

“That’s the most I would ask for,” Johnny said, a smile on his face. 

“Give me some time right now. I’ll text you later and we’ll go from there, okay?” I said, needing to remember to breathe.

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

“Sounds good,” Simon said, a smile spreading across his face as well. Even though we got what we all wanted apparently, why was I the only one not smiling? Why did it feel like I wasn’t going to get what was promised? The only person dangling the carrot in front of me was myself and I knew the bitch would never let me have it if someone didn’t make her.

“I’m gonna give you two a minute, I’ll be out in the car,” Johnny said, getting up. He dropped a kiss to Simon’s head and waved to me before letting himself out. 

“What?” I said, looking at Simon as he stared me down.

“Do you really want to do this? To reset?” He asked. 

“If I didn’t, would I have said yes to it?” I asked, rolling my eyes, unable to keep from putting up my guards.

“No, but that doesn’t mean you’re lettin’ it all out there,” he said. 

“I just. . . I don’t know. I feel like I let two strangers into my apartment to emotionally bully me into a relationship that I am terrified of,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know how to be or to act around you anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, taking my hand in his. It was warm and rough, just like always. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll give you all the time and space you want.”

“What if I don’t want space?” I blurted out. I had shut down after Dierdre, pushed everyone away, and made myself alone. Like Johnny had figured out, I was punishing myself for my daughter’s death. I did that to myself because it felt like the right thing to do at the time, but I didn’t want it anymore. Not when Simon wanted me back, but. . . 

“What do you mean?” Simon asked.

“I mean. . . I am so tired of being alone and I am so tired of pushing people away. I don’t care about the sex or kissing, I just don’t want to be alone again,” I said, managing to get it out before I broke down into sobs. 

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Simon didn’t let go of me. Slowly, he pulled me from my chair to set me in his lap. His long arms wrapped around me, holding me tight as I sobbed against him. 

It had been so long since I’d had that simple comfort that I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to go slow and stay home by myself. I wanted to go with Simon and Johnny and just stop being fucking alone. It was as if Simon was reading my mind as the back of my hand began to itch under my tattoo. 

“Why don’t you come home with us for a while?” Simon asked. “Don’t worry about anythin’, I’ll help you pack a bag and when you feel up to it, we’ll come back.”

Build me up or tear me down, I will never make a sound

Build me up or tear me down

“Okay,” I nodded, hiccuping from crying so hard. There was no fight left in me as he continued to hold me, only taking out his phone to text Johnny. A few more minutes and I walked with him like a child holding their parents hand to their bedroom where the monsters were. We packed a basic bag before I slid on shoes then grabbed my keys, phone, and wallet. With my place locked up, Simon led me out to the car where Johnny was waiting in the driver’s seat. He didn’t say a word or make any fuss as Simon got in the back with me to hold me as we drove back to their house. 

I knew Simon had sold our old house six months ago, getting another one down the street from it. It was a blessing because I would not be able to go back into that house. Brief flashes of how we had worked to make it ours, the decorations, furniture, the nursery ran through my mind. But instead of breaking down and having a drink, I nuzzled against Simon’s chest as his heavy arm kept me close.

Run a dagger through my chest, I believe it's for the best

Build me up or tear me down

Once there, I walked in holding Simon’s hand. Johnny didn’t seem surprised at all by any of it. In fact it was almost like he was expecting it. “Here’s some water and ibuprofen, you probably have a headache and are dehydrated,” he said as he handed me both items.

“Thanks,” I said, taking them. 

“If you’re hungry we can order something or you’re more than welcome to lay down or even take a shower, whatever you’d like,” Johnny said as he took my bag for me. Going down the hall and straight to their room. I knew it was their room because it had a huge bed I could see from the front. 

“I can sleep on the couch or the guest room,” I said, trying to back peddle from something I didn’t even realize was taking off so quickly.

“Don’t worry about,” Johnny said. “You’re probably touch starved and your soulmates haven’t been around in a year. It’ll create a tension of sorts, make you irritable, cause mood swings, depression, anxiety, general mental disarray. The best thing to do for it, if you can, is to be with your soulmates. That means you share the bed with us.”

“Us?” I said, my voice cracking.

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Simon will sleep in the middle, don’t worry,” Johnny said as he walked to the closet to grab extra pillows and blankets. 

“I think I’ve just been bamboozled,” I mumbled. That little shit knew all along that I’d end up coming home with them. He probably knew about the tickets! Knew that I was a bounty hunter! I was going to have to keep my eye on him. 

“Probably,” Simon said with a chuckle. “He’s shifty like that. But, he is right. You’re probably touch starved, so you’re stayin’ in the same bed as us. Do you want to shower or anythin’?” 

“I just want to lay down. My head is killing me and I’m a bit overwhelmed,” I said.

“Fair enough, keep drinkin’ the water though,” Simon said as he led me to the bedroom. 

“Yes, Sir,” I said with a snort before taking a drink of the water.

“Oh, yeah, Simon is definitely, Sir,” Johnny said as he put the pillows and blankets on the bed for me. I couldn’t help but choke on my water. “Oh, too soon?”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

“I think she just needs to rest,” Simon said, patting me on the back. 

“Okay,” Johnny said with a shrug. “Here’s a wet cloth for ye too.” He handed me one for my eyes before walking out. 

“Here, you get settled,” Simon said, helping me get into the large, California King sized bed. “Need anything else?” 

If I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“No, I think I’m good,” I said, letting him drape the wet cloth over my forehead. 

“Alright. I’m gonna go take a shower then I’ll be in to lay down with you, okay?” He said.

“Okay,” I mumbled, already falling asleep. It didn’t take long for me to do just that, but I woke up later as Simon was sliding into bed. All the noises were gone from the usual household that was awake, telling me everyone was going to bed. I felt Simon lay on his back, making it easy for me to move to lay with my arm over his belly. What I didn’t expect was another arm to lay over mine. At first I wanted to pull away, but the longer I let it stay, the more it felt right.

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

Masterlist

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