#but if you’re worried then don’t be all is well! just different

[mononijikayu]

kinikilig — itadori yuji.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay. “You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?” “But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Safe For Work (SFW), Post-Canon, Christmas, Aged Up Characters (Yuuji and Reader are 18+), Fluff, Young Love, Dating, Relationships, Romance, Pet Names (Babe, Yuu-chan, etc), Established Relationship, Teasing, Minor Drama, Feelings, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Pining, Holding Hands, Doubt, Profanity, Nanami and His Wife Cameo, Itafushikugi Sibling Coded;

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words.

NOTE: i promised to write this because there was a huge need to yuuji content. posting this for you @rreveurdoll as much as this is for me. and since it is christmas eve (still day time) in asia, i might as well post this since i will be sleeping for a bit!!! i hope everyone is well and happy this holiday. i'll be posting a christmas art everyone is welcome to enjoy and print out as a card or sticker. happy holidays to everyone!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kilig (adjective) — "exhilarated by an exciting or romantic experience"; such feeling can be something as idiomatic as saying, "hey, i'm feeling butterflies in my stomach for you!" or next best thing to that which is "i'm genuinely feeling excited!"

“SHIT!” — THOSE WERE THE WORDS HE ENDED UP SAYING, EVEN WHEN HE DIDN’T MEAN TO. But the word echoed louder than Itadori Yuuji intended, startling an elderly woman walking past him on the crowded street. He winced and muttered an apologetic “Sorry!"under his breath, clutching the shopping bags in his hands a little tighter.

Itadori Yuuji wasn’t one to curse out loud. He prided himself on his optimism and his ability to keep things light-hearted even in the most stressful situations. But this? This was different. This time, Yuuji felt the situation demanded it. Because at this rate, he was setting himself up for failure.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy pink hair as he stood frozen in the middle of the bustling holiday crowd. Glittering lights adorned the storefronts, garlands hung in perfect loops above doorways.

And the faint melody of carolers blended with the hum of city life. The festive energy was palpable, but none of it helped ease the knot tightening in Yuuji’s stomach. How could it? This situation is driving him to a cliff of endless worries he doesn't want to end up in.

It was lovely Christmas time once more. You loved it as much as he did. It was the season of cheer, joy, and giving; it had everything and more! And the Tokyo streets buzzed with life for it. People rushed by with shopping bags brimming with carefully chosen gifts, their faces alight with excitement and satisfaction. It felt like everyone had their holiday plans perfectly in order.

Everyone except Itadori Yuuji.

This year was supposed to be special. It was his first Christmas with you as his lover, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Scratch that—he needed it to be perfect. You were his whole world, his everything, and this gift needed to show you just how much you meant to him.

But the harder he tried, the more overwhelmed he became. He’d scoured countless stores, browsed endless online listings, and spent hours walking in circles around the mall. Yet no matter where he looked, nothing felt right. Everything he picked up seemed too small, too impersonal, or just not enough.

It wasn’t that Yuuji didn’t know you. He knew the little things that made you happy. The way your bright eyes lit up at the sight of something sweet, how your laugh always started with a soft giggle before it burst into pure, unrestrained joy. He knew your favorite colors, your favorite snacks, and the way you always hummed under your breath when you were lost in thought.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because knowing you so well only made him want to give you something truly extraordinary. Something that could somehow capture just how much he adored you. But every time he thought about it, his mind short-circuited, overwhelmed by a love that was too big for words—or holiday gifts.

“Ugh, what am I going to do?" Yuuji muttered, dragging himself into yet another store. The cheerful holiday music playing in the background did nothing to soothe his nerves as he wandered aimlessly past rows of glittering ornaments and festive knick-knacks.

If he didn’t figure this out soon, he’d end up empty-handed on Christmas morning. And that, to him, was simply unacceptable. The thing was, Yuuji wasn’t bad at shopping. He’d always been good at it. Grandpa Wasuke said so! In fact, the act of searching was easy. He had a good eye for thoughtful details and a knack for picking up on what people might enjoy. 

Over the past few weeks, he had ventured into dozens of stores, scrutinizing shelves of trinkets, clothes, and gadgets. He’d spent hours scrolling through endless online listings, carefully reading reviews and comparing options. He’d even braved the chaos of the mall during the holiday rush, weaving through crowds with a determination that rivaled a seasoned shopper.

He wasn’t just browsing aimlessly, either. Yuuji took his mission seriously. As serious as he would be a real sorcerer’s mission. If anything, he’d go on and on even longer than at his missions. Because you deserve nothing but the best. He knew that much. He was going to make sure you get the best and only the best from him. His love was premium. Shouldn’t his gift to you be like that too?

He’d lingered in the holiday gift section, picking up items and putting them back down, imagining how you might react to each one. Would this make you laugh? Would that make your eyes sparkle with excitement? He spent so much time in one store that an employee asked if he needed help—or if he was lost.

The problem wasn’t the act of searching; it was what happened after.

Every time he thought about what you might like, his brain short-circuited. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you well enough. Quite the opposite. Itadori Yuuji adored you. He knew the little things that brought you joy: how your hands curled around a warm mug on chilly mornings, the soft sigh of contentment that followed. 

The way your beautiful eyes just lit up, full of passion, whenever you talked about something you loved. The way you had a talent for making the most ordinary days feel extraordinary, whether it was through your humor, your kindness, or just the way you smiled at him like he was your whole world.

And that was the problem.

Because every time Yuuji tries to take the logical next step about it all, he always seems to fail. When he thinks about asking you what you might want for Christmas—he’d freeze. Completely and utterly freeze. 

His chest would tighten, his heart would hammer, and he’d lose his words altogether. He’d open his mouth to ask, only to get distracted by how cute you looked while you were busy doing something entirely unrelated.

It wasn’t just love. No, he was sure. It was more than that. Love is not enough to describe how much he loves you. It was the kind of love that left him lightheaded, giddy, and absurdly incapable of functioning like a normal person. Yuuji wasn’t just in love with you; he was ridiculously, overwhelmingly, head-over-heels in love.

And that made everything infinitely harder.

He couldn’t even concentrate when he was around you. Instead of asking what you wanted, he’d catch himself staring, marveling at the way you furrowed your brow while concentrating or how your laughter could turn his worst days into his best. When you cracked a joke (sometimes funny, sometimes not), Yuuji laughed anyway, not because of the joke but because it came from you.

Every time he thought about asking again, he found that the words got stuck in his throat, replaced by a flood of affection he didn’t know how to articulate. He would be a bumbling mess. And you would get worried and ask him if he was okay. But he would babble that he was okay. But he can’t help that either. How could he even begin to express how much you meant to him?

And so, instead of making progress, Yuuji found himself stuck in a loop of adoration and frustration. He’d groan and mutter to himself, pacing his room or staring at the ceiling late at night, wondering how something as simple as picking a Christmas gift could become so complicated. 

When did things get complicated? When did things get hard? Everything about this was ruining his ability to think straight. And that wasn’t your fault. It never will be, no. It was his inadequacies as your lover. He was sure of that. He once more groans, earning the looks of his classmates.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay.

“You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?”

“But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

Megumi, sitting with a book in hand, sighed heavily. “We know. You’ve said it a hundred times.”

“But do you understand how hard it is?!" Yuuji looked at them, his warm eyes wide and desperate. “Like, they’re so amazing. And cute. And funny. Like, even when their jokes aren’t funny! I can’t help it! I laugh anyway because I just... I love them so much! And I just, grrrr! Why can’t I do this right?”

Nobara threw a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. “You’re ridiculous. Just ask them already!”

“I tried! But every time I think about asking, I get all red and tongue-tied. I can’t even look them in the eye without grinning like an idiot!"Yuuji groaned, sinking back into the couch to wallow in his self-perceived ineptness. “I just... I just want this to be perfect! They’re the ones, guys! I can’t ruin this. I want to... I want to do well.”

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?” Nobara muttered, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a Christmas cookie from the table.

“Maybe write them a note.” Megumi suggested, not even looking up from his book. “Or I don’t know; stop overthinking everything. I don’t think it matters what you give them. They love you enough for everything else. They’re with you for a reason, Itadori. They like you. Not what you can provide them. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is that deep!" Yuuji exclaimed, flailing his arms. “I want it to be perfect! I want them to know how much they mean to me!”

“Just pick something from the heart, Itadori.” Nobara said, her tone softening slightly. “They’ll love it because it’s from you, dumbass. You don’t need to stress so much.”

Yuuji sighed, hugging the pillow Nobara had thrown at him. Deep down, he knew they were right. It wasn’t about finding the perfect gift. It’s never been like that with you, no. It was about showing you how much he cared. And he already knew how he felt: completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That night, he sat at his desk, the dorm room quiet, save for the faint rustle of snow falling outside his window. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as his mind drifted to you. He thought about the way your laugh always seemed to bubble up like music, filling the air with warmth. He thought about how, even on the darkest days, your presence was enough to make everything feel a little bit brighter, a little bit easier.

With a deep breath, he picked up a pen and a blank sheet of paper, staring at it as if it held all the answers he was looking for. He twirled the pen between his fingers, his heart thudding in his chest. For once, he didn’t try to overthink it. He knew he had the words. He just has to let them go. 

He takes a deep breath and looks at the page again. He can do this. He knows he can. Nothing is impossible for love. Nothing is impossible when it comes to loving you. And showing you that, well, he wants to make sure you see it! And so he let the words flow, raw and honest, straight from his heart. He doesn’t stop until he gets every bit of it out. 

He started with the small things. How he loved the way you’d hum absentmindedly when you were focused, or how you’d always check to make sure he was okay, even when you were the one who’d had a rough day. He wrote about how much he admired you—your kindness, your resilience, your ability to find joy in the simplest things.

Then, as the words poured out, he wrote about the bigger things. How meeting you had changed him in ways he couldn’t fully explain. How, before you, he hadn’t realized how much brighter life could be. How he’d never known what it felt like to be this happy, this complete, until he met you.

The more he wrote, the lighter he felt. By the time he reached the end of the letter, his hand was cramped, but his heart felt full. He folded the paper carefully, tucking it into an envelope and sealing it with a quiet smile.

The next day, Itadori Yuuji ventured out into the bustling city again. The crisp winter morning coupled with the cold winter air was sharp and frosty, each breath forming little clouds that vanished as quickly as they came. Today was the day he'll get that bonus gift. He will find the perfect one. He knows it.

He wandered from shop to shop, weaving through crowds of last-minute shoppers. He studied every display carefully, letting his instincts guide him to the perfect one. He knew it just had to be here somewhere. Yet, after hours of searching, the doubt began to creep back in.

“What if I can’t find it?”He muttered to himself, the weight of his self-imposed expectations starting to press down again. “No, no. We had this talk, Itadori Yuuji! You will find it. You have the letter; that’s the present. Your love? That’s the gift. This is just a bonus, okay? No pressure!”

Lost in thought and incoherent mumbles to himself, Itadori Yuuji wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and nearly collided with a familiar figure. He blinked for a moment. It was a good thing he wasn’t carrying anything. 

“Ah—sorry!” He blurted out, stepping back to apologize. Then he froze. “Nanamin?!”

Standing before him was none other than Nanami Kento, looking as polished as ever in a dark wool coat and a long, warm-colored scarf neatly tucked into place. Beside him was a woman with a kind smile; her arm looped casually through his. She gasped and smiled.

"Itadori-kun.” Kento greeted, raising a brow at the flustered expression on Yuuji’s face. “What are you doing out here?”

“I, uh...” Yuuji scratched the back of his head. “I’m trying to find a Christmas gift for someone. It’s... really important.”

Kento’s wife tilted her head curiously. “You look a little lost, Itadori-kun. Need some help with it?”

Yuuji hesitated, then let out a sheepish laugh. “Honestly? Yeah. I’ve been wandering for hours... Well, for a long while now. And I still don’t know what to get. I mean, I got the letter and everything and my love for them. I think that’s the most important part, but the other part of it is just...”

Kento glanced at his wife, who smiled warmly and squeezed his arm. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a bit of a pro at picking out thoughtful gifts, aren’t I, Kento?” She said to him. “Why don’t we take a look together, Itadori-kun?”

Before Yuuji could protest, she guided him into the next store, her pace brisk yet purposeful. Nanami Kento merely followed a few steps behind, his expression as composed as ever, though Yuuji could swear there was a flicker of amusement in his mentor’s caramel eyes.

“So, Itadori-kun.” Kento’s wife began, glancing at Yuuji as they entered a cozy boutique lined with handmade crafts and ornaments. "Can you tell me a little about your partner? What do they like?”

Yuuji scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy. “Well, they love warm drinks, like tea and hot chocolate, especially on cold days like this. They always get this little smile when they’re holding a warm mug.”

Kento’s wife smiled. “That’s a lovely detail. What else?”

“They’re really passionate about their hobbies, a lot really!" Yuuji continued, his voice softening as he thought of you. “When they talk about something they love, their eyes just... light up. It’s amazing. I could listen to them for hours.”

She chuckled, picking up a small handcrafted snow globe from a nearby shelf. “Sounds like you’re pretty smitten, Yuuji.”

Yuuji’s face turned bright red at her comment. “I mean... Yeah.” he admitted, scratching his cheek. “They’re just... really special, you know? Like, every moment with them feels like a gift.”

Nanami Kento, who had been quietly observing, cleared his throat. “Itadori-kun, while that’s touching, perhaps you could focus on specifics. What’s something they’ve mentioned recently? Something they’ve wanted or admired?”

Yuuji paused, thinking hard. Then his warm eyes lit up. “Oh! They mentioned this charm they saw once—something small but meaningful. They said it reminded them of their family. I didn’t think of it until now.”

Kento’s wife clapped her hands together. “Perfect! Let’s see if we can find something like that.”

As they moved through the store, Itadori Yuuji rambled on, describing your quirks and favorite things with so much enthusiasm that even Nanami Kento seemed amused. The kid is passionate about a lot of things; he’d observed that in the time Yuuji and him had spent time together. 

But at this level? Never. He’s not seen that at all. But perhaps Kento could find himself relating to the younger man. He too is a man in love who can't help but be frantic when it comes to his own lover. And he too is the type of man who would never shut up about the person he loves. 

“They always hum when they’re concentrating. They do that really well too!"Yuuji said, smiling fondly. “But to be honest, Nanamin, it’s the cutest thing. And they’re amazing at turning little moments into something fun, like making a random walk feel like an adventure.”

“You really adore them, don’t you?"Kento's wife asked him, her tone full of teasing.

“I do. I really do,” Yuuji replied earnestly, his expression softening. “I just want to make them as happy as they make me.”

Kento’s wife exchanged a glance with her husband, who gave her a subtle nod. “Well, Itadori-kun, with that much love behind it, whatever you choose will be perfect.”

A moment later, Yuuji’s bright-eyed gaze landed on a beautifully decorated charm tucked away on one of the displays at the corner. It was simple, delicate, and intricately designed—a perfect match for the one you’d described.

“This is it! I think this is it!" Yuuji said, picking it up carefully. His grin grew wider as he imagined your reaction. “I think they’ll love it. I just know it.”

Kento’s wife smiled approvingly. “You did great, Itadori-kun. And now you can relax knowing it’s exactly what they’d want.”

Kento gave a faint smirk at the young man. “Next time, save yourself the trouble and ask them directly, Itadori-kun." It might save you hours of pacing through stores.”

Yuuji laughed, clutching the charm in his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind, Nanamin. Thanks for the help, both of you. I appreciate it. Really.”

Kento’s wife waved off his gratitude with a smile. “It’s nothing, Itadori-kun! You already knew what you wanted, you know? You just needed a little nudge.”

As they walked out of the shop together, they parted ways soon after that. Itadori Yuuji clutched the carefully wrapped gift in his hands, his heart lighter than it had been in days. This wasn’t just a present. It was a piece of his love for you, wrapped in meaning and chosen with care. And he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened it.

When Christmas Day arrived, it was just too much. Itadori Yuuji was a bundle of nerves. He paced his room, the gift and letter sitting neatly on his desk. His stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He practiced what he would say, only to stumble over his words each time.

“What if they don’t like it?” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “What if it’s not enough?”

But all of Yuuji’s doubts melted away the moment you walked in. The door jingled as you stepped inside his dorms, shaking off the chill of the winter air, and the world seemed to slow. He felt like he couldn't breathe. You knocked his air away from his lungs with just your existence. You always have.

You looked effortlessly beautiful to him, even in the simple warmth of your coat and scarf. But it wasn’t just the way you looked—no, it was your presence. That radiant smile of yours, so wondrously bright and delightful. The one that always made his heart skip a beat spread across your face as soon as your eyes landed on him.

“Yuu-chan!” You exclaimed, your voice soft but bright, sending a flutter straight to his chest. You closed the distance between you in a few quick steps, your eyes lighting up with happiness. “I missed you, wah! I’m glad you’re back!”

Yuuji froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of you. He had spent days thinking about this moment, stressing over the gift, over making everything just right—but now that you were standing in front of him, all of that seemed insignificant. The only thing that mattered was you.

“I, uh, got you something, baby.” Yuuji stammered, feeling the warmth flood his cheeks. His hands, which had been shaking since he first picked up the gift, now trembled even more as he extended the small package toward you. “It’s not much, but... It’s from the heart.”

You looked down at the little box in his hands, then back up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Yuu-chan, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, trying to steady his breath. “But  you know that I just….I wanted to. You’re... really important to me, you know? And I just wanted to show you how much I care. That I... I want to express my love for you like this.”

Your heart warmed at his words. You reached forward, gently taking the package from his trembling hands. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to combust with how much warmth radiated in you because of his tenderness. 

Everything about your lover made you feel like the world isn’t a cold place. He was everything that made life so good. You were convinced of that. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was so nervous yet so full of love. It made you feel more cherished than any grand gesture ever could.

You carefully unwrapped the gift, the anticipation in Yuuji’s bright eyes palpable as you slowly revealed what was inside. The beautiful and yet simple charm, delicately designed and elegant in its simplicity, lay nestled in the box.

You gasped softly, your fingers tracing the intricate design. It was everything Yuuji had described and more. It wasn’t flashy, but it held such deep meaning. You didn’t want it to be flashy. You just wanted it to be from him, from his heart. You felt the weight of his love in it and the thoughtfulness behind every detail.

And boy, did it deliver. He always does. Your lover boy always will. 

“There’s a letter inside for you, Read it later, okay? If you want—"

“Yuu–chan!” You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

His face turned a shade of pink so deep it was almost red, and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Really? You like it?”

You nodded, eyes glistening. “I love it. I love you.”

Yuuji’s heart skipped a beat, and he could hardly contain the goofy grin that spread across his face. It wasn’t about the gift. Though he was surely sure that he was happy you liked it anyway. But of course, this was more important.  

It was about the way you looked at him that made him feel whole and giddy all over again. The way your smile made his chest feel light, the way your love seemed to wrap around him, as real and as warm as the scarf you wore.

“I love you too.” He whispered in a relieved and yet so loving tone. “So much.”

“You’re the best, Yuu-chan!” You said, stepping forward to hug him, the gift still clutched in your hand. His arms instantly wrapped around you, and he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in. “I love it! I love you! Ah, I’m just so happy!”

“I’m just glad you like it, baby.” he mumbled, the words muffled in your hair, but you could hear the relief and joy in his voice. “I was really worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "Yuu-chan, you don’t need to worry about that. It’s perfect because it’s from you. And that’s all that matters.”

He gazed down at you, the love in his eyes overwhelming. “I... I just want to make you happy. That’s all I ever want.”

And in that moment, as you stood there together, the soft glow of his dorm lights casting a gentle shimmer through the window, Itadori Yuuji realized something that took his breath away. He had already given you the best gift of all, his heart. 

All the shopping, all the wrapping, the hours of nervous pacing. All of that. they suddenly seemed so trivial compared to this: the simple, unspoken exchange of love that had passed between the two of you. This was more than enough for him. This was his paradise. This was his Christmas miracle. 

His chest swelled with warmth, and he looked down at you with a soft smile, his heart racing just as fast as it had the moment he first met you. No amount of material things, no matter how perfect, could ever compare to the way you made him feel. You were his everything.

Before he could say another word, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands gently cupping his face, and kissed his cheek. The touch was sweet, soft, and full of affection. Yuuji’s warm eyes widened in surprise, the blush creeping up his neck as he felt the warmth of your lips against his skin.

“You’ve done that and more, Yuu-chan! ”You whispered, your voice a little breathless with affection. “Don’t worry!”

His heart fluttered. He felt like he might melt right where he stood. His hands, which had been trembling when he gave you the gift, were now steady as they gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. The tenderness in your words, the way you made him feel so cherished and understood, filled him with a joy that no gift could capture.

“You really think so, baby?”He asked softly, a shy grin pulling at his lips.

“Of course I do,” you replied, smiling up at him with those sparkling eyes of yours. “You’re all I ever need, Yuu-chan.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart swell, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, quiet moment.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby.” Yuuji whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m never letting you go.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to, Yuuji. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, his arms instinctively wrapping around you in return, pulling you even closer. “Good. Because I think I’d be lost without you.”

“Merry Christmas, Yuu-chan.” You smiled at him.

He grinned at you, taking to embracing you. “Merry Christmas, baby!"

[ceilidho]

fear of god

prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 5 masterlist

-

The day starts poorly and ends worse.

You sit with Gaz’s words all night and decide by morning’s first light that it is worth worrying about them after all. But for a different reason. The worry you settle on is that your deteriorating mind is now giving you warning signals of troubles to come, manifested in the form of an astronaut outside of the ship. A messenger; a harbinger. 

Breakfast is cold coffee over bit fingernails. You pull at a hangnail until it tears and pain zips up your finger, blood welling up under the split skin. Since you take your coffee in the medical unit these days, bandages and disinfectant are always within reach, meaning your fingers are always wrapped in them. Pigs in blankets. 

You make your way across the ship when morning briefing comes, fingers throbbing by your sides. 

Farah watches you from the other side of the cockpit during the briefing, her gaze inscrutable as ever. It takes a conscious effort not to shake under her stare. You’re not sure what she’s looking for, but whatever it is, it can’t be good. 

In the background, Graves drones on about something that doesn’t penetrate through the thick miasma of your thoughts. It goes on for entirely too long. When he dismisses you all for the day, you stand up on crooked legs and hope they don’t buckle under you on the walk back to the medical unit. Farah’s eyes follow you until the door shuts behind you.  

You make another coffee instead of getting started on your tasks for the day. Your research can wait. That’s what you tell yourself at least, nails tapping against the metal table while the coffee machine spurts out your drink in a short, violent burst. A thin, reedy hiss. No instant crystals this time. It tastes almost burnt when you bring it to your lips. 

The mundanity of work pales in comparison to the events rapidly unfolding before your eyes. Are you sick or well? Is the man outside the ship real or not? Surely not, you tell yourself, pulse picking up again. You know better than that. Occam’s razor: the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one. 

It’s just that you don’t like where your mind is going with this one. 

The alarm goes off when your head is bent over the microscope, the sound so sudden and jarring that you nearly tumble right off your stool. It blares a piercing shriek through the medical unit and the hall outside, so loud that you cup your hands over your ears to hear yourself think. The stool clatters to the ground when you hurriedly slide off, heading towards the door. 

You stumble into the hallway to find it flooded in red light, pulsating in steady intervals for any deaf crew members. It guides you like a beacon down the hall towards the cockpit. Standard protocol is to head to either extremity of the ship, lifepods stored at both the front and back of the ship in case of an emergency. 

The others are already in the cockpit by the time you arrive. Claustrophobia sets in when the doors slide shut behind you, the room smaller with everyone packed inside at the same time. 

You feel someone’s eyes flick towards you before flitting away in the same second. Accounted for and disregarded. Hardly meriting any attention when the alarm blaring overhead is a far more pressing concern. 

Graves punches a button. “Ship, what’s the situation?” 

Micrometeoroid impact 

Damage sustained to starboard quarter

“Some of the photovoltaic cells are cracked,” Alex says, checking the status of the ship on another computer screen. “We have replacements though—could be worse.”

“Could be a lot fuckin’ better too,” Graves grumbles, forehead already pinched. 

Despite not being an engineer or astrophysicist, you’ve gone on enough interplanetary voyages to understand the implications of damaging the photovoltaic solar panels. Much of the electronics on board rely on the electricity derived from sunlight; this particular ship, designed only to venture as far as Jupiter, isn’t equipped with an alternative power source. 

“Should I engage the Canadarm to fix the damaged panel?” Alex asks from his perch.

Graves shakes his head. “We need to preserve as much power as possible while the cruise control is still out. It’ll have to be fixed manually.” With that said, he flips a switch to shut off the droning alarm, though the lights overhead stay red.

You flinch when the chief engineer slaps his hands down on his thighs, the sound jolting you out of your spiralling thoughts.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he sighs, mock aggrieved. “I fix like usual. No problem.”

“Nothing different than what we trained for.”

“Easy peasy,” he confirms, an easy smile on his face. 

“Okay, Nikolai, suit up—I’ll guide you from the cockpit,” Graves instructs, shifting into a mode you’ve never seen before. “Hadir, there’s a replacement panel in section seven in the cargo hold—get it and bring it back now. Nikolai’s going to have to fix it from the outside.”

The terror that lances through you when Graves says that is immediate and sharp. You know nothing’s out there, but the fear response is as real as if something were. 

It’s an unwarranted response, fueled by paranoia and delusion. This is a scenario the crew has prepared for back on Earth a multitude of times. They wouldn’t have been given clearance to leave the planet without having run through every potential complication and calamity. There are strict regulations to follow, protocols and standards to ensure that nothing comes as a surprise. 

But still—

Your chest is tight. Heart pounding against your ribcage so hard that you wince. There’s no one outside the ship but still you can’t help but think that opening the doors might let it in. 

When Nikolai leaves to suit up for the spacewalk, you trail after him, following Farah’s lead. You didn’t notice that Hadir had already departed, but his absence is glaring on the walk towards the airlock. 

“Smile a little, Farah,” Nikolai says, poking fun at the eternally stern woman keeping pace with him. “It’s good to have some excitement around here.”

“I’m not a fan of excitement,” she responds, voice terse. He laughs at her words, the booming sound echoing through the corridor.

You watch helplessly as Nikolai gears up, Farah helping him lock the helmet into his suit, doing a quick, final inspection of the glass to ensure that there aren’t any cracks or scratches. 

The glass of Nikolai’s visor glints opalescent under the station lights, the glass infused with low-grade aerogel to protect from interplanetary radiation and solar winds. Packets of higher grade aerogel are stuffed into the lining of his suit, protecting the rest of his body as well. 

Hadir returns not long after with all of the requisite parts needed for the repair neatly stored in a rectangular container that attaches securely to the front of Nikolai’s suit, leaving his hands free. The three move in synchrony, a finely-tuned dance practiced repeatedly in the months leading up to the launch. 

You keep to the wall in order to avoid getting in the way. 

The first door leading into the airlock is opened when Nikolai finally gives Farah the word, their checklist run through twice before being met with approval. 

Nikolai deliberately turns away from the door when the airlock door shuts behind him and the chamber begins to depressurize. You wince sympathetically when you notice his shoulders tense. The oxygen in his tanks is specially designed to purge the nitrogen from his blood, but under better conditions, he would’ve spent closer to an hour prebreathing in order to transition from high to low pressure. 

He only gets a few minutes to adjust. When his allotted time expires, the second pair of doors slide open—the last partition between the inner and outer world—and Nikolai takes his first step towards the darkness of space. 

You can’t watch after that. Instead, you hurry back to the cockpit, jaw so tight that it aches. 

Graves looks up when you enter, but otherwise doesn’t say a word to you. Alex flashes you a brief, tense grin. The first couple of minutes of any space walk are always nerve wracking, despite the reassurance of preparation and all times before. There’s an inherent anxiety in seeing the human body go out into the cold vastness of space. 

“Nikolai—you copy?” Graves asks through the transmitter.

The receiver crackles. “Loud and clear, boss,” he rumbles, accent thick even over radio waves. 

A shadow of a smile flits over Graves’ face, the tension in the room briefly relieved. Even your shoulders lower at the sound of his voice. 

“You sound better like this,” Graves teases. “Less nasally.”

“I’ll ask your mum the next time she calls,” Nikolai rebuts, a similar teasing sneer in his voice. 

“Asshole,” Graves laughs, keeping his finger on the button the whole time. 

The camaraderie would usually make your heart ache. Not today though. There’s no space for anything other than worry. 

“Proceeding towards starboard,” Nikolai says, narrating his movements for the benefit of those on board.

There aren’t any cameras on the outside of the ship, meaning the crew can only communicate with the man via audio. On a newer spacecraft that might not be the case, but this ship is old, a relic of times past, her maiden voyage predating the addition of exterior cameras. 

You wait in the cockpit with Alex and Graves while Nikolai repairs the panel outside, nerves shot. A half hour passes by without thought. You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and wait it out, each minute feeling eternal, elongated somehow. Every so often, the receiver crackles and Nikolai gives an update on his work. Each time, the crackle makes you flinch. 

Despite the unease churning in your stomach, the amount of time isn’t suspect; you know he has to disconnect and remove the damaged panel section before installing a replacement panel.

Yet, you can’t quite shake the nausea building in your stomach. The way it cramps and flutters. 

At some point during the wait, Farah slips into the room, and you only notice her when you twist your head from side to side to stretch out the muscles in your neck and find her leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed tight over her chest. 

For someone who has most certainly monitored and participated on spacewalks before, you’re surprised to find her just as anxious as you, albeit better at concealing it. You’d have thought of all people, she’d be the most comfortable. Instead, her eyes stare sightlessly at the flight deck window, finger tapping against her elbow; a nervous twitch. 

The receiver crackles again. “Panel secure. Heading back n—” 

Both Graves and Alex sit up straighter, staring down at the receiver as if anticipating the rest of the sentence. It never comes. You feel a sweat break on the back of your neck. 

Graves presses a button. “Nikolai, we didn’t catch that. Say again.” 

He’s met with a deeper, more prolonged silence. 

“Nikolai?” Graves repeats into the mic, his voice broadcast over the intercom system throughout the ship. “Nikolai, do you copy?”

Silence. Nikolai’s transmitter crackles in response, as if his finger were on the button, but his voice never follows. 

“Kolya?” Graves asks, and you can hear the sliver of desperation, the worry couched in professional concern. You’ve never heard him use that name before. 

Another minute goes by without a response. The tension is thick in the air. 

The sound of the door to the cockpit opening cuts through the air and you turn to watch as Farah leaves without a word. Again, puppyish, you follow after her. You’re not sure why. Her back is ramrod straight as she marches down the hall, tension rippling down her shoulders. She doesn’t acknowledge your presence as you make your way down the corridor together. 

The two of you stare out the first porthole for some time before proceeding to the airlock further down the hall. No sign of Nikolai. Graves’ voice crackles over the intercom, keeping the crew dispersed throughout the ship abreast of any sign of Nikolai. 

“I’m going out,” Farah abruptly announces, punching in the code for the second spacesuit locker. 

“Huh?” you ask dumbly, watching as she rips the zipper down the length of the suit to open it and starts to tug it out of the locker. 

“I’m going to check on him,” she repeats, enunciating each individual word as if you didn’t hear her the first time. 

“Is that—is that a good idea? Shouldn’t you consult the commander before—”

It isn’t your place to question her, but an instinct deep inside of you says don’t go out there, don’t go out. What’s out there should stay out there. 

“This is my job, doctor,” she cuts you off, finally wrenching the second suit out of the locker and jamming her leg into the lower torso component. “I don’t tell you how to do your job and you certainly don’t tell me how to do mine—”

Then, somehow, you both see it at the same time. A hand pressed flat to the airlock window, the fingers spread wide. The body attached to it must still be hanging off the side of the ship because you don’t see the rest of him, just a palm open wide on the far edge of the window. And though Farah breathes thank fuck, Kolya under her breath—the most relieved you’ve ever heard her—your stomach cramps and your palms grow clammy. 

The spacesuit she’d been about to step into falls to the floor in a heap. From the corner of your eye, you see Farah reach for the airlock lever to open the door, and your hand instinctively goes up as well, your fingers closing around her wrist to hold her in place. 

“Wait.” It’s your voice but not your voice. It’s your fingers around her wrist though, staying her hand. It’s your stomach cramped up in a Gordian knot, bile at the back of your throat because this is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong. 

She wrenches her wrist out of your grasp with more strength than you anticipated, pulling down the lever in the next breath. The look she sends you as the exterior door slides open is scathing.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, her repressed fury coming to life. You can feel it now coming off her in waves—the days of doubt and mistrust, so unsettled by your actions to the point that now she snarls at you without a second thought. 

Your lips part but nothing comes out. No way to explain yourself, just the gut feeling of something terribly wrong. 

All you can do is watch as the first set of doors open to the blackness of space, your body frozen where you stand, heart in your throat. The hand briefly disappears from the window just to reappear a second later, gripping the side of the door to haul himself inside. His movements are slow and deliberate, hampered by the lack of gravity. 

You notice the glaring issue almost immediately, but your throat is far too dry for you to speak. You wonder if Farah has noticed it as well. The man in the spacesuit taking his first step into the airlock is leaner than the man who left. Shorter too. Not the bear of a man that stepped out just an hour ago, but someone new. Someone that now flips the switch on the interior wall to shut the door behind him, which it does noiselessly. 

“Farah,” you whisper uncertainly. She doesn’t respond. You wish you could turn your head to look at her, but you can’t rip your eyes off the man in the airlock. 

You wait with baited breath for the airlock to repressurize the first chamber. It takes as long as it did to depressurize in the first place, an agonizing handful of minutes that you can only spend staring at the man standing in the middle of the chamber, his visor still tilted too low for you to make out his face. 

But you know, don’t you? 

With a door separating the two of you, the sound never actually reaches your ears, but you swear you can almost hear the hiss of his helmet unlocking. You’re sweating hard now, heart racing in your chest and still you blink twice, hoping that the man behind the glass will suddenly disappear or suddenly grow in size. 

The man reaches two gloves hands up to twist the helmet out of its locked position and then slowly pulls it off, revealing a face that you’ve become familiar with these past few days. Dark skin and a high fade. A scar high on his cheekbone, the wound long healed. 

“Farah,” you say again, and your voice cracks this time. Beside you, you hear her let out a shuddering breath. 

Through the glass, he smiles at you, full lips pulling apart to expose a row of gleaming white teeth. He waves a thick-fingered, gloved hand and mouths your name.

[chanranghaeys]

🥂 a tale of two lonely souls

pairing: idol!minghao x gn!bar owner!reader word count: 1.4k+ genre: fluff rating: pg tags: christmas fic, open ending, meet cute in a bar, yes it’s yet another slice of life from me, minghao is cocky as always but you’ll love it bc reader will make minghao realize he’s found his match at cockiness warnings: alcohol, drinking, mentions of multi-race parents, reader owns a bar in this setting a/n: i’m so honored to be part of @camandemstudios’ A Very Seventeen Christmas Secret Santa event for this year and surprise @ylangelegy, i’m your secret santa! 🥳 bless u kae, here’s a little gift for you for making me feel so many things this year bc of your fics 🫶 merry christmas and happy holidays to y’all!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“All alone on Christmas Day?”

The hooded figure at the bar looked up from their phone. You notice their fingernails painted in shades and lines of black and glitter that glinted under the lights. When the figure pulled down their hood and face mask, you realize that the man looked startlingly familiar. You just couldn’t place from where…

“Maybe,” he replied. A slight smile graced his features, a welcome warmth from his initially cold aura.

“Well, that makes the two of us alone on Christmas.” The place was empty, save for two tables with a few customers—one large group, two duos, and this man on the bar counter.

It was a few hours before the end of Christmas Eve, and this recently opened Asian fusion bar had yet to welcome its throng of guests. In hindsight, maybe setting it up in a more secluded area of Itaewon wasn’t the best decision.

“If that's the case then maybe we’re not alone.” He gestures his finger between the two of you. You roll your eyes at the attempt to lighten the mood.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“Used to what?” He tilts his head curiously.

“Being alone.”

“Why not change it then?” He steeples his hands and rests his chin on them, his eyes studying yours as if trying to decipher a puzzle—as if he was used to analyzing people quietly.

It was unsettling…but you liked the challenge.

“Well, why don’t you change?” You counter back at him.

“Change what?”

“You being alone.”

He snickers. “Why don’t you get me something to drink first?”

“Alright, Mr. Bossy,” you say with a raised eyebrow and a matching smirk. “What are you having?”

“I heard you have Kweichow Maotai. That’s the only reason why I’m here.”

Interesting. He’s a man of taste. The way the Chinese syllables easily rolled off his tongue gave you further evidence of his identity—you just needed one more clue.

Without a word, you turn to face the wall of bottles to find the spirit you’re looking for. But before reaching for the iconic white-and-red bottle, you stop yourself.

“You know what, it’s Christmas.” You turn back to him with a smile. “I’ll get you something special.”

You return with another bottle of Maotai—but he instantly recognizes the difference from the one at the bar. His eyes widened the moment you came in holding the gold bottle tied with a red ribbon.

“No way you have that.” He marveled at the sight in front of him, his eyes filled with seeming reverence. “How—”

“That is a story for another time. But now, please enjoy. I’ll just charge you the regular Maotai rate, don’t worry.” You wink and hand him the small tulip glass, full to the brim.

“Just tell me that I’m not drinking a shot of illegally-sourced vintage Maotai.” There it is again—the analyzing look.

“If it were, then I’d be out of business. Can’t have that then, can we?”

“Of course not.” The man raised his glass to meet your own. “I can’t lose my favorite Maotai supplier in Korea now that I’ve found you.” The light brought the ring on his pinky finger to your attention. Suspicion confirmed.

You didn't reply, but opted to down the contents of the small glass—potent but familiar. He followed suit. You hoped that the warmth that bloomed in your mouth and your chest didn’t manifest itself too much on your cheeks. You could blame it on your Asian flush anyway because you had to give it to him—he was surprisingly smooth with his words.

“This is the rare moment I get to be alone,” he said after a beat. “Believe me, I wish I had more of it, but my parents are arriving here tomorrow from China. So no, I will not be as alone as you think.”

It took you a moment to realize he was continuing the conversation from earlier. “That’s nice. Why are you here in Korea then, if you’re from China?”

“Who said I was from there?”

“Well, you have parents coming from there.”

“Who’s to say that they aren’t coming home here?”

“The way you said Kweichow Maotai was too smooth.”

He shrugged deliberately. “I know Chinese.”

“I know Chinese, too. You can’t fool me.” You said this in perfectly placed Mandarin. The look on his face was priceless as he was rendered speechless.

“I cannot believe you managed to surprise me twice in one night,” he replied in the same tongue.

You smirked and poured another tulip glass for the both of you. “Glad to know that I managed to surprise a K-pop idol tonight. And in my bar, no less. Xu Minghao, correct?” You push the refilled glass and meet his ever-analytical eyes. It seemed like you knew how to play his game, after all.

The smile he returned was ethereal. “To whom do I owe the pleasure of tonight’s company?”

And that’s how you spent the remaining hours of Christmas Eve, with conversations as free-flowing as the Maotai and whiskey and bar chow. You learned that his parents’ flight was actually delayed—he was actually on his way to the airport—and he learned that your Chinese is courtesy of your father’s heritage and your Korean address from your mother.

You also ended up telling him the story about the vintage Maotai, which had him in stitches by the end of it. Thankfully, the bar had long been empty and your staff had all gone home.

“Why haven’t you left then?”

“You might’ve forgotten that I own this place.”

“And how does it not have more customers at this time?”

“It’ll pick up soon. I’m sure of it.”

Minghao pursed his lips in thought. “Give me your Maotai bottle. And a marker.”

“The vintage one?”

“No, the regular one over there!” You obliged to his requests, and he returned the liquor bottle with a freshly minted autograph from Seventeen’s The8.

Why didn’t you think of this earlier? It might be because the whole time you were talking, he didn’t even seem like an idol. He was just…a guy. A frustratingly charming and quick-witted guy.

“Merry Christmas to you and this wonderful place.” His examining gaze was long gone, replaced by eyes that disappeared whenever he smiled wide. “Thank you for…making me feel safe.”

“Merry Christmas, Minghao. Everything’s on the house. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“Absolutely not.” He brandished his card and pushed it to you. “I will not rip off a starting business all because of celebrity status.”

“I didn’t say it was for your celebrity status.”

“Still.” He was insistent. He took your hand and placed his card in it. “Charge me as necessary.”

You were just as insistent, though. “No.”

“Fine. Then give me your phone.”

You did. And he input his personal number in it.

“I have to go now, but please message me. I mean it.”

You did. And the back-and-forth banter didn’t stop. Surprise remained an element in your dynamic, apparently, because the conversations seemed as natural as the days transitioning from one to another.

You didn’t catch when Minghao took photos of your place. But the moment he posted it on his Instagram, customers started coming in waves. This secluded corner in Itaewon has never had a lull day since Christmas.

New Year’s was no different. After the festivities and the celebrations, it was finally time to call it an early morning at 3 am. But not before you welcomed your last customer.

“Alone on New Year’s as well?” You hold back a smile when you find him standing at the door. The way your heart was beating was undeniable, and you knew you couldn’t hold that back.

Up until then, you didn’t know if you would ever see Minghao again beyond your messages. They became more occasional as time passed, but you knew enough from his stories that their schedules were not to be underestimated. Seeing him here now was—as expected from your dynamic—a surprise.

“No. I’m with my favorite Maotai supplier in Korea, how can I be alone?” He drew closer to the bar and to you as if you were reeling him in with an invisible string.

“I thought your parents brought you a bottle last Christmas?”

“It isn’t a vintage Maotai, though.”

“What makes you think I’m bringing it out tonight?”

“Because we’re starting the new year together. I’d say that’s a cause for celebration.” And bring it out you did. As if you could resist him.

Before you can open the bottle, he grabs it from your hands to pour out the drinks himself. As you two raise your glasses, he leans in close, and you see nothing but an openness in his eyes. Warmth. Hope. “Happy New Year to you, then.”

“To us. Happy New Year, Minghao.”

Your glasses clink and your Maotais are downed. It would seem that happiness is on the books for the year ahead.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: pleaseeee i felt so pressured to write for u (looks at my inbox with full knowledge your request still lies there unwritten fskf) ((i promise i’ll get to them)) but i hope i did minghao justice. i was very much inspired by your own minghao fics skl hehe and tbh this is almost less of a drabble and more of a potentially longer fic but i held back bc gah. merry christmas again and i hope you liked my pamasko, kae! 🎄🎁✨

[konigofmyheart]

christmas prep with könig

gn!reader, fluff with one innuendo/suggestive comment

zimtsterne: little cinnamon star cookies ⭐️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

setting up for christmas with könig is truly a special experience. it’s always been one of the nicer memories from his childhood. it wasn’t anything grand, but his mother always made sure they had a little magic, be it in the form of a little wooden toy, slightly burnt cookies, or little snowmen that left könig with stinging hands from the freezing snow. that magic is something he’s always held on to, and of course he’d want to share it with you, too.

it starts early. before you even wake up, he’s already made his homemade hot chocolate, and his zimtsterne are freshly out of the oven, cooling on a rack on the counter, and he’s hauled all 13 christmas storage boxes out to the living room. you pad into the kitchen, drowsily and halfheartedly complaining that he started without you. it’s hard to be even pretend annoyed, though, when his eyes are sparkling with excitement like that. plus, “that’s the boring part, liebling, i only want you to have fun!” he insists as he places a loaded mug of hot chocolate (a giant dollop of cream with cinnamon dusting the top floating in your mug) and warm zimtsterne stacked on your favorite holiday plate. he’s easily infecting you with twice the christmas spirit, the way he eagerly goes on and on about all there is to do today: picking up the tree, dressing it up, then decorating the entire house top to bottom so everything sparkles and glows.

the moment you finish your breakfast he’s at the door, almost wiggling like a dog eager for a walk. after you pass inspection (i.e. his excessive bundling where he layers your coat, then gently slides your gloves onto your hands, then wraps your neck and half of your face with your scarf, and thennn fixes your hat onto your head to keep you warm for the arduous five second walk to the car), you’re on your way to the christmas tree farm. you two sing along to christmas classics on the drive, obviously dedicating “all i want for christmas is you” to each other. as you walk up to the lot of trees, you’re still smiling at the way könig always attempts the high note just for your amusement, and he gives your gloved hand a squeeze, hoping you forget his creaky high note as quick as possible.

he swears he doesn’t like the way the old lady who owns the lot gushes over him, saying how “such a big boy must be so helpful, so good to you”. his ears flushing pink tell a different story though, even more so when you agree with the lady before the two of you walk over to the rows of trees, and there’s only a handful that are taller than him. she playfully shouts out a “gosh, if only i was 40 years younger and 10 times luckier… ” and practically cackles at the way he pretends not to hear, stepping behind some trees (that definitely don’t obscure him) as he flushes even further. he’d have convinced you he didn’t like the compliments, were it not for the way he makes even more of a show than usual of loading your tree (the biggest on the lot, naturally) on top of his giant suv. he’s practically puffed up with pride as he helps you into the car, earning even more hoots of praise from the tree lady (“they don’t make them like that anymore! you hold on tight to him now, ya hear?”) and some giggles from you.

now in your driveway, you go in first so as to guide the tip of the tree through the door, with könig doing the heavy lifting. all’s well until the tree gets a bit more than halfway in, the branches so full that they catch on the doorframe, even with it being wrapped up with netting! your worried “hm, I don’t think it’s gonna fit, baby” gets instantly answered with a determined “it’ll fit, schatzi. i’ll make it fit” from könig. now, of course you’re a grown adult and not some immature 14 year old, but come on, you’re only human! you look at each other over the stuck tree, your eyebrows raised meaningfully and a dumb smile tugging at your lips. he really can’t stop himself from flushing yet again, huffing a “don’t say it” as he rams the tree through the doorway, thiiis close to toppling over onto the tree with his momentum. only his quick reflexes saved your tree from becoming a pancake.

this isn’t your first christmas together; you have the process down to a perfect rhythm. you get a head start while he reheats his chocolate, bringing your mugs over to the coffee table to serve as your tree decorating fuel. together you make quick work of the ornaments, tinsel and lights (he handles the upper level while you access the bottom level far better than he could). step ladders become irrelevant as long as he’s around. like always, your favorite ornament and his are right next to each other, front and center. “my star placing the star” he lovingly murmurs against your ear before picking you up so you can place the star at the very tip top of your tree. you laugh at his cheesy line, his fingers totally accidentally tickling your sides as he turns you around against him, his eyes crinkling in that special way reserved just for you. he swallows your giggles with a reverent kiss, and though you’re both covered in pine needles, tinsel scraps, and glitter, your mouths taste of chocolate and warmth and love. <3

[devildomwriter]

You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part III

The show is about to begin and things might be settled, or they might be slowly getting worse.

Belphegor: “That was fun.”

MC: “I’m tired…”

Belphegor: “Me too.”

MC: “You’re always tired.”

Beelzebub: “Want some?”

MC: “That’s very sweet of you Beel but I don’t really feel like eating right now… anyway let’s just ask someone where the box we’re in is.”

Staff: “Your seats are right up those stairs there to your left.”

MC: “Thank you.”

Staff: “Anytime. Oh, by the way, do you happen to know the red-haired man in that area?”

MC: “Yes.”

Staff: “Please thank him again for me for his generous tip. I can finally pay off my student loans.”

MC: “Okay?”

Belphegor: “How much do you think he tipped her?”

MC: “I think he probably heard about her Student loans while he was here for three hours and looked up the average amount and gave it to her. Or he doesn’t know how tips work in America.”

Beelzebub: “I’m out of popcorn.”

MC: “Dammit not again.”

MC: “Belphegor, this is the spare card for house expenses, do not lose it. Go get your brother some popcorn or something.”

Belphegor: “Okay. Can you find the seats on your own?”

MC: “I’ll survive.”

Belphegor: “Not what I asked but okay.”

Diavolo: “Do you think everything is alright downstairs?”

Barbatos: “I’m sure we would have heard if anything were amiss.”

Lucifer: “….”

Diavolo: “Lucifer you’re looking awfully pale, can I get you anything?”

Lucifer: “Do you suppose that summoning a human across realms counts as human trafficking?”

Diavolo: “I beg pardon?”

Solomon: “Hahahaha! This sounds like a fun debate!”

Lucifer: “Just what I needed…”

Solomon: “It’s good to see you too Lucifer!”

Diavolo: “Barbatos did I kidnap MC?”

Barbatos: “There is a very big difference between an international crime and a surprise summoning.”

Diavolo: “Good. I was worried for a minute there.”

Leviathan: “Why did you suddenly bring that up anyway?”

Lucifer: “I just happened to overhear it when I called Asmo.”

Satan: “You overheard it? Is something bad happening downstairs?”

Lucifer: “I think…for once…this is MC’s fault…”

Mammon: “Why ya gotta blame MC?”

Lucifer: “MC made a joke that Diavolo kidnapped them.”

Diavolo: “Oh dear.”

Solomon: “That sounds like MC.”

Lucifer: “…”

Lucifer: “Solomon…what is that you’re holding?”

Solomon: “Oh this?”

Diavolo: “Oh no.”

Solomon: “There’s a bar around the corner downstairs.”

Lucifer: “I’ll be right back.”

Diavolo: “Ah, please wait.”

Leviathan: “He’s gone.”

Satan: “We tried.”

Simeon: “I bought some extra popcorn, does anyone want some?”

Diavolo: “Simeon! It’s good to see you here! Luke too!”

Diavolo: “I apologize for not extending the invitation to you three, I heard you had prior obligations.”

Simeon: “Yes, they fell through so Solomon looked into what you were doing and bought tickets.”

Solomon: “Oh I didn’t buy them.”

Simeon: “What?”

Solomon: “I know a few people.”

Simeon: “…How did you get these tickets Solomon.”

Solomon: “No one was hurt.”

Simeon: “Solomon…who’s tickets are these? Is this why we had to use fake names?”

Mammon: “You used fake names too? I got stuck with Matthew what’d you guys get?”

Simeon: “Arthur Carbunckle.”

Mammon: “Ahahahahahaha!”

Lucifer: “The sorcerer from Yorkshire?”

Solomon: “You know of him?”

Simeon: “I don’t like where this conversation is going. Where is MC? I thought they’d be here by now?”

MC: “You called?”

Everyone: “MC!”

Diavolo: “I kidnapped you?”

MC: “So you admit it.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “I’m only teasing. Where did Lucifer go?”

Solomon: “The bar.”

MC: “Ugh who let him find out.”

Solomon: “Was it a secret?”

Simeon: “Well I think he needs it…it should all be fine.”

Solomon: “So has anyone seen this play before?”

Mammon: “Nope.”

Leviathan: “Never heard of it.”

Barbatos: “A few times.”

Satan: “I’ve read about it. I’m not sure how well they can adapt it to a live-action stage performance though.”

Diavolo: “I haven’t seen this rendition but I believe it will go excellently. This is supposed to be the best one there is.”

Luke: “Really! I had no idea it was so popular!”

Lucifer: “I’m back.”

Satan: “Is that beer?”

Lucifer: “And?”

Satan: “Nothing…”

MC: “Can I have some of that?”

Lucifer: “Later tonight.”

MC: “Never mind.”

MC: “Sooo…Diavolo… am I still allowed to sit next to you even though I made a stupid joke that got the cops called?”

Diavolo: “Hahahaha! We all make mistakes MC. Of course, you can sit by me.”

Mammon: “I call the other side—“

Lucifer: “Sit down, we already agreed on the seating.”

Mammon: “Come on, I took a beating earlier at least let me sit next to MC.”

MC: “Mammon sweetie are you okay?”

Mammon: “Wh-Huh? Y-yeah…”

Leviathan: “You were crying.”

Mammon: “Shut up.”

MC: “May the lingering traces of pain vanish from the demon before me, I am the sorcerer MC, obey me.”

Mammon: “…shit…I feel all better! That worked like magic MC!”

Solomon: “It is magic.”

Mammon: “I didn’t ask you.”

Luke: “Ooh the lights are flickering again!”

Simeon: “That means it’s time for us to be very quiet, okay Luke?”

Luke: “Ok. Can I have the popcorn now?”

Simeon: “Yes, I snuck in some juice too if you want it.”

Leviathan: “Ooo, the angel broke the rules. Did you hear that Lucifer?”

Lucifer: “Simeon can do what he wants.”

Simeon: “Thank you, Luci.”

Lucifer: “Do not call me that.”

Simeon: “I thought I could do what I want.”

Lucifer: “I’m getting a migraine.”

MC: “Okay guys, I love messing with the old man as much as anyone but I think we should all be quiet now, okay?”

Satan: “Fine.”

Mammon: “Got it.”

Leviathan: “Okay.”

Simeon: “Hehe.”

Solomon: “…one last question…where are Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Asmodeus?”

MC: “…umm…Belphegor has the house’s spare credit card.”

Lucifer: “What?”

MC: “He’s getting some snacks with Beel.”

Lucifer: “…and Asmo?”

MC: “Man is living his best life.”

Lucifer: “What does that mean exactly?”

MC: “I can’t tell you within earshot of Luke.”

Lucifer: “What? With who!? How did he even find the time to—“

Barbatos: “Calm down Lucifer, everything will be fine, won’t it MC?”

MC: “Yeah, he got rid of the cops he’s doing us a favor.”

Luke: “The police?”

Lucifer: “He’s….with the police….”

Diavolo: “…”

Mammon: “Ahahahahaha! That’s one way to handle it!”

Satan: “The lights are dimming everyone shut up and eat your popcorn.”

Belphegor: “Hey guys, did we miss anything?”

MC: “Shhh.”

Belphegor: “Okay. Beel sit over there.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor: “Oh hey it’s the Chihuahua.”

The theatre is completely silent, not even murmurs in the crowd. The only thing that echoed off the walls before the play began was the loud protests of a child, “I’m not a Chihuahua.”

Luke blushed as the audience laughed and then the director walked on stage.

Director: “Ladies…gentlemen…chihuahuas…”

Mammon: “BAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!”

Leviathan: “Pft! Lolololol Luke, you’re a legend!”

Luke: “Grrrrrrr.”

The crowd laughed and quickly silenced as he raised his hands and gave credit to everyone involved in the production, prop art, acting, and orchestra.

Mammon: “Man, lotta people went into this, huh?”

Lucifer: “Yes, so don’t mess it up.”

Mammon: “Why me?”

Lucifer: “This play is practically about you.”

Mammon: “Huh?”

Belphegor: “Pft!”

Satan: “He’s…right actually.”

Mammon: “Huh? Ain’t this about a grumpy old man or somethin’ sounds more like Lucifer!”

Lucifer: “Shut up or I’ll punch you.”

Mammon: “Ow! Give me the chance to stop first!”

MC: “Everyone shut up, that’s an order.”

Mammon: “Eep!”

Lucifer: “Gh!”

Barbatos: “Thank you MC.”

[The play begins with an old man standing over a coffin. He steals the coins from the dead man’s eyes.]

Mammon: “Why the fuck would ya bury money, that just makes sense.”

Satan: “I can never see Scrooge the same way again…”

[In the next scene, he counts money in his office while his assistant freezes from the lack of coals for a fire as they are a needless expense.]

Mammon: “Counting money, this guy gets it.”

Luke: “Simeon I’m a little worried about Mammon…”

Simeon: “Well, maybe this play will set him straight.”

Solomon: “If it doesn’t, I know a few ghosts willing to help out.”

Mammon: “What are you guys whispering about back there.”

Solomon: “Oh nothin’.”

Mammon: “Really, ‘cause your smile is freaking me out?”

[The man’s nephew comes to visit, wishing his uncle a merry Christmas but the man rejects the sentiment.]

Mammon: “What the hell, ain’t that his nephew?”

Luke: “I think it’s working.”

Simeon: “Don’t jinx it.”

Luke: *nods*

[The man returns home alone when suddenly things move about around him flying across the stage.]

Mammon: “How the hell are they doin’ that?”

Satan: “Wires and magnets probably.”

Mammon: “Better not be a real ghost.”

Solomon: “Don’t tempt me.”

Mammon: “What does that mean?”

[The ghost of the man’s dead friend and former business partner, Marley appears and warns the man that because of his greed, he is doomed to wander the earth weighed down by chains. ]

Mammon: “Pft, ghosts can’t get chained up. …Right?”

[Marley warns the man that three ghosts will be coming to visit him and he leaves. The man faints but awakens just before the first ghost arrives.]

Luke: “Wow it’s glowing.”

Mammon: “That thing gives me the creeps.”

Belphegor: *sneaking up on Mammon*

Belphegor: “Boo.”

A shrill scream sounds in the theatre making many audience members jump. As professionals, the actors do not acknowledge the disturbance or the thud that followed it.

Mammon: “That hurt. That wasn’t even my fault.”

MC: “Belphie, quiet.”

Belphegor: “Fine.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, MC.”

MC: “Don’t mention it.”

[The ghost brings the man to his childhood days, and then to his apprenticeship with a man named Fezziwig. Finally to when he met his beloved, Belle, and when she broke their engagement because his lust for money was too much.]

Mammon: “…”

MC: “…”

Lucifer: “…”

Luke: “It’s working…”

Solomon: “Shh.”

[Scrooge is returned to bed at last, after shedding remorseful tears. Finally, the next ghost arrives, a gentle giant representing the Christmas of the present.]

The curtains draw for intermission.

Previous • Next

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕱RIENDLY FIRE

Lara Raj x fem!reader

summary: when lara and fellow katseye member, y/n made an arrangement months ago, they didn’t factor in the amount of time they spent together as bandmates. now, breaching the no strings attached aspect of their relationship seems to be troubling more than the two of them

warnings: harsh language, suggestive/sexual themes, angst, mean! 𝕰 lara, jealous/possessive!lara, manipulation

Lara Raj could arguably be the single reason Y/N worked so hard to debut in Katseye. Sure, it had been her absolute dream growing up to be an artist, especially alongside bandmates as wonderful as the girls, but Lara Raj was just… different.

When Katseye first debuted, Lara and Y/N found themselves spending more time with each other… alone. They seemed to be paired together for a lot of promotions, performances and award shows. So one day, when the two of them were alone in the dressing room, something between them shifted.

But it would get complicated, especially with the dating ban in place for another eleven months.

So in between breathy kisses and stringed moans, with Lara standing between Y/N’s legs and her hands anchoring the younger member’s hips to the vanity table, the Indian singer proposed a simple, yet eventually lethal, arrangement; with no strings attached, they would be teammates with benefits.

At first, it was easy. Sneaking around while the girls were asleep or occupied with some crazy thing on their schedule.

But then, when promotions became more frequent and practices began flooding in before tons of award shows, it was becoming harder and harder to find just a sliver of time to sneak off together. Around the two month mark of their little agreement, Sophia had begun noticing something weird in the air surrounding two particular bandmates.

When the girls had their weekly movie nights, Y/N would offer to grab some snacks and drinks as the others chose a movie to watch. Lara would then make some lazy excuse to leave the group as well, and neither of them would return until the movie had started. Luckily, the girls were always too busy bickering and fighting over what movie to watch to notice. But amidst her attempts in mediating the childish drama, Katseye’s leader was picking up more than she initially intended to.

Just last month before an iheartradio conference, Y/N had to go to the bathroom to ease her nerves.

She notified Sophia, who offered to come with to help calm the frantic drumming of her heart, but the younger member declined politely. But then, Lara would tell Manon she’s going to check on little Y/N to make sure she was okay. And the eldest Katz didn’t pay her much mind.

Just before they were seated for the podcast, Lara and Y/N returned. The older’s hair was no longer neat and proper, but instead, messy and loose.

Y/N’s lips were swollen, her cheeks slightly flushed and her fingers tugging up her collar to hide the darkening beside peaking from her chest.

Sophia was not one to meddle in another’s affair, and certainly not romantic or sexual ones of or between her bandmates. But when the two would get distracted by each other or sneak off just a little too long, she needed to let them know before either of them got in trouble. So, she decided to casually bring it up with Lara one time during breakfast.

“Look, I don’t care if you guys are dating or whatever, but you need to be more careful before you get caught.”

Lara raised an eyebrow, scoffing in amusement at the leader’s statement. “What? What’re you talking about?”

“You and Y/N. I know there’s something going on between the two of you and you’re getting a little sloppy with the hiding.”

Silence rung for a moment, before Lara laughed.

“Oh no, you’ve got us all wrong.” She continued laughing, much to a confused Sophia’s dismay. “Y/N and I aren’t dating or anything. We’re just… y’know, hooking up. There’s no feelings or whatever, it’s just sex. Don’t worry that big head of yours, Laforteza.”

Sophia pressed her lips together in a thin line, watching the Indian make herself a cup of coffee.

“That’s really messy, Lara. Y’know Y/N’s much more fragile than you, she can’t hide her secrets as well as you do,” Sophia scolded, “Just the other day, she strolled into dinner with vickie’s down her cleavage, you’re lucky I covered her back up when I gave her a hug before the other girls noticed.”

“Sophia, relax.” Lara grunted, “It’s fine.”

“We don’t need a scandal already, we’re still in promotions for Debut.” The older crossed her arms, “I’m laying down some ground rules. No fucking in between schedules or in the house when we’re all here. I don’t want the others getting dragged in the middle of this if things get messy.”

Lara rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Is that it, you dictator?”

“Yes. I’m protecting you and Y/N, okay? Be careful.”

That was exactly four months ago. Katseye’s one year debut was just around the corner, but the girls were getting a little disorganized. The group’s dynamic had suffered a seething hit around the six month mark.

When Y/N sat atop the HYBE bathroom counter, catching her heavy breath, she watched Lara shrug her pants back on lousily and buckle her belt.

Y/N loved those jeans on Lara, it accentuated her torso, especially paired with the tight black corset top she was wearing. She loved the way her rings were cool against her hot skin when they were pressed flush against each other. Her lipgloss was smeared and her arms flexed as she brushed herself off in the mirror.

“Lara, baby… is everything okay?”

Lara wiped the corner of her mouth with her finger, pursing her lips towards her reflection. “Don’t call me that. You should get dressed, we need to be at rehearsal in three.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, fixing the fallen strap of her top.

She didn’t say anything, grabbing her pants off the counter. She hopped off, slipping them off quickly as she eyed Lara fixing her makeup here and there.

Lara had never been the easiest person to handle. Their arrangement had started out simple enough, but as time went on, things began to shift. Lara’s attitude had begun to change, too. Her playful teasing around their friends trying get her hot and flustered around people turned into sharp, almost cruel remarks, her flirtations increasingly possessive, and her behavior unpredictable.

Y/N had tried to ignore it. After all, Lara wasn’t the easiest person to confront, and Y/N didn’t want to ruin what they had going. But this time was different. The line had been crossed, and the younger member couldn’t pretend anymore that everything was okay. She needed to put her foot down, but she didn’t know how.

When she finally turned away from the mirror to shove her lipgloss back into her pocket, she felt Y/N gently grab her arm.

“Wait, can we just… stay here a little longer? Please?”

Lara glared down at her, but she wasn’t really in a mood to argue so she reluctantly agreed. As Y/N fixed her own look in the mirror, Lara leant against the counter with her arms crossed. She eyed Y/N’s neck, a litter of red bruises scattered down from behind her ears to her chest. Thankfully, as sheer as the top Y/N was wearing was, her hair covered most of the hickeys. And as much as that was breaking her own rule, Lara couldn’t deny the fact she loved seeing Y/N all marked up.

Y/N turned towards her, lips curled into the adorable smile everybody knew and loved.

“Ready for the new choreo? Megan’s been really excited for it, she won’t stop pestering me about it.” Y/N chuckled, running her slender, ringed fingers through her hair.

Eugh, Megan. She was always so happy and nice to Y/N with a stupid smile on her face. It was real fucking annoying.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing going for her in her life.”

Y/N bit her lip at the mean remark. She never understood Lara’s one-sided beef with Megan. They used to be roommates, but a couple months in, Lara was growing easily irritated by Megan’s antics. Eventually, they switched out roommates, so Lara was bunking with Manon and Daniela, with Y/N rooming with Megan.

Since the room switch, Megan and Y/N grew really close.

They were inseparable, best friends, and recently, Lara noticed Y/N was more confident in turning her down when she wanted to go on a late night drive up to Lover’s Point.

“I’m having dinner at my parents tonight. Be ready by seven and I’ll pick you up so we can stay there for the night.” Lara said, “Bring a jacket, we can go out for dessert.”

Y/N gulped thickly, watching as Lara got up to leave.

“I—I’m actually going to a movie with Megan tonight. There’s this new one coming out she’s been meaning to see and we wanted to go tonight ‘cuz it’s our off day.” She stated timidly, hearing everything fall silent before Lara stepped back towards her. The Indian had changed into a more fierce expression. She neared a fearful Y/N with each step, until the younger’s back met the bathroom wall.

“You’re blowing me off for Megan again?” she barked.

Y/N turned away, feeling her heart racing at the feeling of Lara’s breath fanning her cheek. One of Lara’s arms raised, holding her weight up against the wall beside Y/N’s head.

“She’s been really looking forward to this, I—!”

“No, you’re gonna tell Megan you’re gonna have to reschedule. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the most amazing movie ever made, you’re coming home with me tonight, you got that?” Lara said through gritted teeth. “You want me to go talk to her myself? Hm? You want me to go fuck her shit up so she’ll stop making you go out with her when you wanna be with me?”

Y/N shook her head, feeling Lara’s fingers grip her hips.

Her fingers were grabbing so hard at the exposed flesh of her hips, Y/N swore finger dents were etched into her flesh.

“Good girl,” Lara smirked, grabbing Y/N’s chin between her fingers. “Now, we’re gonna go to practice and you’re gonna talk to Megan Skiendel about tonight, understood?”

Lara leant in to kiss Y/N, but the girl shrugged her off, gently pushing her away.

“Lara,” Y/N said, her voice barely coming out as a whimper. She was already rehearsing the words in her head, but they felt foreign. “We should talk.”

Lara furrowed her eyebrows. “About what?”

Y/N exhaled, cheeks flushed. “About this… about us.”

Lara’s smirk faltered slightly, her posture shifting. “Us? What about us? Are you fucking someone else?”

Y/N’s heart sank at the possessive tone, but she refused to back down. “That’s the thing, Lara. I’m giving you so much of myself and my time, but you make me work around your schedule and you get mad at me when I try and spend my time with my friends. You don’t want to be exclusive, but you also get mad at me when I talk to other people. I don’t want to be with you. Not like that. I don’t want this anymore.”

Lara’s face twisted into a mixture of confusion and anger. “Excuse me? You were just screaming my name in our work bathroom five minutes ago.”

“I—I’ve been thinking for a while,” Y/N replied softly, trying to maintain her composure. “And this… it’s not what I want.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed. “So, what, you’re just gonna throw everything away? Just like that? We’ve been through a lot, Y/N. You can’t just walk away from this.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the weight of the words she was about to say. “You’ve been different lately. The way you talk to me, the way you act around me… it’s not the same. You don’t respect me, and I don’t think this is healthy for either of us.”

Lara scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritant. “Respect? Are you kidding me? I’ve been nothing but good to you. I’ve always been here when you needed me, and now you’re just going to throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“I’m not throwing you away,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to be treated like this anymore. You’re hurting me, Lara.”

For a moment, Lara was silent, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a bitter laugh. “Whatever.”

Y/N felt her eyes well with tears, as her fingers fidgeted with the waistband of her baggy sweats. “I’m not scared of you, Lara. I just want peace, and I want respect. If you can’t give me that, then it’s better if we stop.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and Lara’s anger simmered beneath the surface. Y/N could tell that the fight wasn’t over, but she also knew that what she was doing was right. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be bullied anymore.

Lara turned on her heel, her expression cold. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realize you’re nothing without me.”

Y/N watched as Lara walked out of the room, the slam of the door echoing in her ears. For a moment, she stood there, unsure of what to feel. Relief, sadness, guilt — a mix of emotions that tangled within her. But deep down, Y/N knew that she had made the right choice.

A little later, during a break in the middle of their practice session, Y/N found herself in the dance studio with her bandmates. The tension from her earlier conversation with Lara still lingered, but the rhythmic beat of the music helped her focus. She would occasionally look over at Lara, who was snapping at anybody who weren’t at their peak, perfect state. Everybody seemed to be walking on eggshells around her, and even their instructor had decided to steer clear of any trouble with the woman. It was time for rehearsal, and she needed to get her mind off things. So, she took a bathroom break.

Only then did the girls truly ease into their break.

Megan was already stretching near the front of the room. Y/N smiled softly as she joined her. Megan was different from Lara. She was patient, kind, and always had Y/N’s back when things got rough. She was also Y/N’s best friend, and the two of them were practically attached to the hip.

“Hey, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet.”

Y/N sighed at her roommate’s words, “Sorry, I’ve been busy doing some personal stuff. I actually had a question about the flip routine, I can’t really get down.”

The redhead smiled, “Oh, yeah, girl. I gotcha.”

Megan was close to her, their movements so in sync as they tried out the new routine they were taught. Every step felt effortless, and their bodies became even closer when Megan began helping Y/N with a particular step, their faces just inches apart as they spun in perfect unison.

“You gotta have your leg pulled back like this,” Megan taught, a hand grabbing Y/N’s thigh and pulling her leg back. She was standing behind the older, a hand on her waist and the other along her inner thigh. “When you drop down, you need to land right here, not on your knee or you’ll shatter your knee caps.”

Megan walked around Y/N’s body, grabbing her hips from the front before guiding her to bend downwards to the ground.

Just a couple feet away, Lara wasn’t far behind. She had come back into the studio just as Y/N and Megan were getting closer. Her eyes flicked between the two, her gaze narrowing as she watched them move. Every step, every touch seemed to fuel the fire that was burning inside her. There was something about the way Megan and Y/N moved together that made Lara feel possessive, something that made her blood boil.

When Megan and Y/N collapsed into each other from laughing at how ridiculous the older looked doing the back-bend, Lara’s voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing. “Is this what you’ve been doing when I’m not there, Y/N? Are you letting her fuck you when I’m out?”

Y/N froze, her heart racing as she turned to face Lara, who stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Megan glanced at Sophia and the girls for help, before finally sharing a look with Y/N, who just shot her a weary frown.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Lara, please. Not here, okay?”

Lara’s eyes flashed with something dark. “Say it.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping back. “No.”

The room was heavy with the tension, but Y/N stood firm. No more manipulation, no more games. It was time to move forward. And she was ready to do it; with or without Lara.

“Say it, shona,” Lara purred, her piercing eyes burning Y/N’s body up as the others looked to Sophia for help.

The rehearsal space fell into a tense silence after Lara’s outburst, and Y/N felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on her shoulders. Her chest was tight, her breath shallow. She had said what she needed to say to Lara, but she wasn’t prepared for the fallout. The other band members exchanged glances, all trying to avoid stepping into the middle of the drama that had clearly erupted between the two of them.

Sophia had seen enough. Her patience, always thin when it came to unnecessary drama, was wearing dangerously thin now. She had warned Lara about this happening, she had warned her about involving the group—and now the staff—in their drama.

“Lara, Y/N, both of you. Now. In the back room. Figure it out. I won’t have this mess in the studio.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Sophia’s glare silenced her. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of guilt; after all, she’d been the one to end things with Lara. But the tension had grown too unbearable to ignore.

Lara, with her usual defiance, scowled but didn’t argue. She stood up, and Y/N followed her, albeit reluctantly. The room was small, dimly lit, and devoid of any distractions. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving them both in a silence that neither of them knew how to break.

Y/N leaned against the far wall, arms crossed protectively over her chest, trying to hold onto the calm she had found earlier. Lara stood near the center of the room, her eyes on the floor, her posture rigid. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N’s mind raced, and she couldn’t stop replaying their argument. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated, how everything had shifted in such a short time. She wasn’t angry anymore; she was just… confused. But there was also a part of her that was deeply sad. She had never expected Lara to take things this far.

Finally, Lara spoke, her voice quieter than usual. She sounded to soft. So vulnerable. “Why the fuck do you do this shit?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” Lara muttered, still avoiding Y/N’s gaze. “Such a fucking brat, all you do is drive me closer and closer to the edge.”

Y/N shook her head. “Lara, I never—”

“Just stop,” Lara interrupted, her voice tight. “I can’t fucking stand you doing all that. Just making silly little plans with Megan and letting her grope you in the middle of our practice.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But Megan’s my roommate—my best friend. Why are you so angry?”

Lara finally lifted her eyes, meeting Y/N’s gaze for the first time since the argument began. Her eyes were darker, filled with something Y/N hadn’t expected to see there: vulnerability.

“Fuck, I never thought I’d feel this way. About you. But I do.” Lara’s words came out in a rush, as if the truth had been choking her, fighting to get out for far too long. Her emotions spilt from her lips like vomit. “I don’t just want… what we had. I want more. And I know that’s messed up, because I’ve always said ‘no strings attached’, and I don’t know how to make up for it. But fuck, I need you.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thicker as Y/N absorbed Lara’s confession. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. It wasn’t just a slap of revelation—it was a soft, painful truth that Lara had been too afraid to admit, to both herself and Y/N. It hit Y/N harder than she expected, and she took a shaky breath, her mind spinning. It was horrible; she loved her.

“You… you have feelings for me?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She was afraid to hope, afraid to let herself believe that this could somehow be the reason behind Lara’s erratic behavior.

Lara nodded, her hands twitching at her sides, as if unsure what to do with them. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I thought I could just keep things casual, keep things light. But then, when I started seeing you with Megan, I realized I want—no, need you to be mine and mine only.”

Y/N’s heart ached. The tenderness in Lara’s voice caught her off guard. She had never seen this side of her before. It wasn’t just the brash, cocky girl who flirted and made everything seem like a game—it was a girl who was, for the first time, laying her heart bare.

“I don’t know how to do this, Y/N,” Lara continued, her voice quiet but earnest. “I don’t know how to show you that I’m sorry, that I care. But I want to be with you, if you’ll let me.”

Y/N swallowed, her throat tight. The weight of Lara’s words, the raw honesty she was witnessing, made everything seem more complicated than it had been just an hour ago. She had walked into this room thinking she would have to hold her ground, but now, everything was different.

“I can’t just forget how you treated me,” Y/N said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “You hurt me, Lara. And I don’t know if I can just brush that aside.”

Lara’s face fell, and for a moment, she looked like she might fall apart. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I know. I know I’ve hurt you. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that. But I’m asking for a chance. A real chance. I’m not perfect, Y/N. I’ve never been perfect. But if you’re willing to give me a chance to show you that I can be better… I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at Lara. She could see the sincerity in her eyes, the quiet desperation there. And despite everything, despite all the hurt, there was a part of her that still cared deeply for the girl standing in front of her.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. “I need time. I need space to think about this. I’m not going to just jump back into something with you. But… I won’t shut you out. I just need you to show me that you’re really willing to change.”

Lara nodded, relief washing over her like a wave. “I’ll show you. I promise.”

Lara leant in closer, her breath whispering against Y/N’s ear. Her hands grabbed the younger's thighs, yanking her close until her crotch was pressed against hers as she leant forward. Y/N jumped, letting Lara press her against the wall.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N breathily questioned.

"I’m showing you how much you mean to me," she whispered, her voice husky as she smirked.

Y/N let out a breathy moan, she felt her face grow hot with excitement as Lara’s lips brushed against hers.

They were lost in the rhythm of each other's breathing, their bodies moving in perfect sync like two halves of a whole. Y/N felt herself being pulled closer, her hips grinding against Lara’s. The Indian’s hands cupped the younger’s ass as she swallowed whatever noises leaving the younger's mouth, squeezing gently. Their kiss deepened, their tongues tangling together.

Y/N felt herself getting lost in the sensation, her senses overwhelmed by the taste and smell of Lara. She was aware of nothing else except themselves, lost in this vortex of desire.

Lara’s fingers dug gently into Y/N’s skin as she pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together like puzzle pieces fitting snugly into place. Y/N felt herself being consumed by the heat of Lara’s desire, her own passion igniting like a flame touched to dry kindling. As they broke apart for air, their chests heaving like bellows pumping air into a furnace.

"Oh, shona," Lara panted, her voice husky. "I need you."

Y/N’s eyes flashed with desire as she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then take me."

And with that, they came together like two magnets drawn to each other's poles. Their bodies crashed together in a whirlwind of passion and desire. Their kisses grew more intense, more insistent, as if they were trying to consume each other whole. Their moans and gasps filled the air, mingling with the sound of rustling fabric and faint echoes of Debut outside.

[ikeuluvr]

KISS ME THRU THE PHONE || Nishimura Riki

synopsis - surviving months on end without you while he’s touring is the equivalent of torture for bf!ni-ki, but thankfully facetime exists…

idol!ni-ki x reader / established relationship - fluff + teeny bit of angst / warnings: none! / word count: ~1k

part of ikeuluvr’s song series ᵔᴗᵔ — works inspired by songs! requests are open for other songs + anything else you would like to see from me <3

Ni-ki loves the rush of performing more than anything in the world. Standing on stage in dozens of different countries—looking out at the faces of his fans while some of them cheer, some laugh, dance, or even cry. The sound of everyone screaming his name makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. He dreads leaving the stage each night; watching the lights of the crowd slowly disappear as the screens close in front of him, giving him one less thing to look forward to. However, the one thing he knows he can always count on is speaking to you at the end of the night.

As much as Ni-ki adores touring, a small glint of guilt always resides in his heart each time he has to leave you for months at a time. Each goodbye is never easier as you go from having him sitting in front of you to propping up your phone screen at the table with him on a call. The time difference was nothing enjoyable either, the both of you waking up at the crack of dawn or going to sleep obnoxiously late depending on where Ni-ki is to make sure you have a chance to speak to each other that day.

As tonight marks week five out of six of being apart, Ni-ki feels especially restless wishing nothing more than for you to be in his arms as he sleeps his exhaustion off tonight. Once he’s driven back to the hotel, he doesn’t waste any time to say good night to his members before trudging to his room and throwing himself onto the bed. He pulls out his phone and speeds to click your contact to start a FaceTime call. Letting out a sigh, he stares at his tired face on his screen until it’s replaced with yours.

“Hi beautiful,” he hums, a smile plastering on his face as all of the energy he lost suddenly rushes back into his body, “I miss you.”

“Hi Riks, I miss you so much too!” you respond excitedly as you get comfortable on your couch, the sunlight peeking through your curtains while the moonlight peeks through Ni-ki’s, “How was the show tonight? I saw clips on social media, you guys were on fire.”

Ni-ki lets out an endeared chuckle at how adorable you are—the way you always keep track of every performance makes his heart flutter, “It was really really good! I love the Chicago crowd, they’re amazing. They were so loud tonight I could barely hear myself sing even with my monitors in.”

You flash a smile, listening intently as he speaks, his eyes sparkling with each word, “Aww I’m glad, it’s what you guys deserve,” you say, “I wish I could’ve been there. It looked so fun.”

“Yeah… me too,” Ni-ki answered, his tone dropping softly as the pain of missing you starts to hit again, “I keep wanting to look for you in the crowd until I remember you’re not here.”

A frown takes over your face as Ni-ki’s voice gets solemn, your heart slowly breaking at the way his face immediately drops, “Honey… only one more week, right? Only one more week and then we can spend every night cuddling in bed again while I kiss you all over your pretty face,” I grin, trying to cheer him up a little bit.

Ni-ki lets out a laugh as a pink blush covers his cheeks, “I’ll be counting down the week by the minute, don’t worry,” he hums before pausing, a smirk drawn on his face, “Do you think you could drop of of university to start touring with me?”

“Well! No…” you laugh, “Probably not the best idea sweetie, but good question.”

“I’m kidding, I wouldn’t let you do that even if you wanted to,” Ni-ki smiles, “But I really do wish you could be here with me every night. I love my job, but I love you so much more and I just-” he lets out a defeated sigh, “I wish I could bring you along and triple the joy I feel on tour by having you in the crowd each night.” His face falls again, a mix of irritation and heartache quickly filling his voice.

You tilt your head with a pout as Ni-ki’s eyes leave the screen to look somewhere else, the pained look on his face killing you inside, “I know Riki… I wish more than anything I could be with you too. In the future when things are a little different, we’ll travel the world together, hm? I’ll make you my cute little tour guide in every country,” you snicker with a smile, trying to bring him out of his melancholic state.

He lets out a snort at your response, playfully rolling his eyes, “Okay babe, I promise to be your cute and very handsome tour guide in the future,” Ni-ki retorts, letting out a long breath, “Hey love, can you give me a kiss?”

You quirk an eyebrow at his request thinking the jet lag may be getting to him at an exponential level and pause for a second to think of how to respond, “Ummm… I would love to baby, but there’s kind of an obstacle in the way if you haven’t noticed.”

“No, no I know, I’m not stupid I promise,” he chuckles, “But I miss you, I miss you, I really wanna kiss you…”

“And how are you expecting me to do this, Riks?”

“Baby, kiss me thru the phone,” Ni-ki says in a shy whisper, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips making you smile and flush a rosy pink, “Come on… I know you want to.”

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?” you laugh, absolutely smitten with your boyfriend on the other end of the line, “But fine… I’ll kiss you thru the phone babe.”

Ni-ki lets out a giggle as he cheeses a boxy smile, quickly bringing the phone closer to his face and planting a kiss to his phone camera just as excitedly as if it were your actual lips he was kissing. You do the same with a lovesick grin painted on your face, pulling away a few seconds later to see the same adoring smile on Ni-ki’s lips, “We get to do that but for real in 7 days you know…” you remind him with a playful smile.

“Can’t wait baby… see you then.”

masterlist

[theartofwoompwoomp]

Oh scrap pt.2

Soundwave x human reader

Summary: the decepticons start talking about who’s the hottest one, and agree that an alien could break the tie (aka reader) and without a hesitation they say soundwave, not knowing this guy can hear everything lol

Pt.1   Pt.2

———————————————————————

You had forgotten about the whole ordeal. As we mentioned, chaotic things happened all the time.

So you really didn’t think much of it. Not until you started noticing something different.

Now, you are aware of your crush on Soundwave, and usually that’s not a bother since you rarely think of it. Just keeping those emotions on the down low.

However you have realized a difference in your schedule. You’ve been assigned with your crush and his cassettes far more often than normal. 

Not that you mind at all, more opportunities to appreciate your crush. 

And you wouldn’t have been worried, if it weren’t for the change of actions in the bot.

He’s always so calm and steady at his work. But recently you’ve noticed that whenever you’re around he always tenses and soon leaves the room. 

It’s a little sad, I mean, you’re not exactly sure what you did to upset him. And anytime you get near he twitches a bit before giving you his back and leaving. 

Having no human bestie around you went to next thing you had that resembled that on the nemesis.

You entered Knockout quarters, making sure to catch his attention.

“hey, um, I know you’re busy, but can we talk a bit?”

He saw the stress on your face and didn’t deny you your request. After all everyone needs to vent from time to time.

“Well doll maybe he’s acting that way cause he heard your confession the other day.”

Wipping your head towards him with eyes far too open your confused panic showing through your voice. “What the hell are you talking about. I never confessed not even in front of others.”

He vents a bit leaning down closer to you, “so you seriously don’t remember the day you publicly confessed you want Soundwave.”

Your face blooming with warmth you quickly hush him as you remember what he’s referring to, “ugh i had forgotten about that, …do you think someone told him?”

“Oh doll, I doubt he isn’t aware of the situation.” You bury yourself as far as you can in your arms. Worrying for his true feelings towards you.

It’s interesting to him how every time you don’t want him to know something, your own emotions betray you and become so loud it’s impossible to ignore.

Normally he’d be drained from all the baggage your little brain seems to carry. But recently he’s come to realize that he’s become addicted to your love. 

He can feel what you feel for him.

And anytime you were nearby these feelings of your were stronger. At first it didn’t affect him, but the longer he got attached the harder it was to hold back. 

Slowly but surely, he was falling in love with you. <3

———————————————————————

Masterlist 

previous

[yandere-kokeshi]

Out of curiosity with your recent ask about yandere Ghost!Dad, how would he react if their GN kid is aromantic?

— Yandere Dad! Ghost reacting to his kiddo being aromantic

Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of relationships, and people being assholes.

A/N: Happy late Aromantic awareness week :)!! So sorry for my late upload, hope you enjoy anon <33

Dad! Ghost reacts in the same sense as if you were asexual; he genuinely doesn’t care, but is quite happy to himself that he can keep you home a bit more, and that he doesn’t have to worry as much.

Plus, he’s extremely satisfied that he can still have Saturdays and Sundays with you alone. Your weekend dates aren’t stopping nor occupied with someone else, and that’s all he cares about.

Though, Dad! Ghost is quite aware that a bunch of juniors are willing to push your buttons, even go against your boundaries and coerce you into an uncomfortable/or possibly unsafe situation, which is his biggest fear. So, immediately, he sits you down and ensures you know your boundaries and how to express them strictly, and if you have any troubles, you let him know as soon as possible.

Other than his worries of you being taken advantage of, he doesn’t treat you any differently. If anything, he’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about early pregnancy or STDs.

Though, he does understand that sometimes you can get insecure—parts of you are treated differently, especially in social settings, just because you have no desire to be in a relationship. It’s odd. And he can be petty.

If he finds out a friend of yours throws a snarky comment, he’s never letting it go. He trusts you enough to stand up for yourself, but if they don’t zip it, Dad! Ghsot will say something, and it won’t be polite.

However, if he meets them in person, it’s quite a chaotic scene. He just eyes them, brown irises staring in their own before he slow nods—saying, “Oh, it’s you.”

That phrase alone allows people to become paranoid, and he hopes it does. Anyone who tries to temp you to stray away from yourself is immediately a red flag toward him. You’re his kid, and he isn’t afraid to say some shit to teenagers.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[starryhutcherson]

━━ BED HEAD

author's note: my christmas gift to my lovely followers and viewers <3 yes i am aware i've been M.I.A for the entirety of the second half of the year. forgive me! when the jhutch nation died a piece of me died with it. pls enjoy this apology fic, made it nice and sweet for my mike lovers (cough cough for me). enjoy!! ps. this is my personal favourite that ive written, boyfriend mike just hits different so expect a lot more of him coming soon wink wink! i mean it this time

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: boyfriend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 2000+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

Early mornings make for soft kisses. Outside, the streets are licked with hazes of morning fog, sprinkled with droplets of dew and not even ghosts wander the empty streets. In here, in Mike’s house, there’s no need to worry about the world beyond his peeling windowsill. You’re cradled into his chest, his arms which encircle your torso and his legs which tangle into a web with yours. The mornings are just for you. 

And Mike always wakes up before you. It’s not something he does intentionally, but rather the blessing of his eternal clock, stirring his soul before the sun has so much as nipped at the horizon – and yet he reckons this is the best part of his day. It’s the part where he gets to see you at your most vulnerable, your most unaware. Your lips are parted, carrying an imprint of yesterday’s smile, and your hair is sprawled around you too deliberately– like you were made to be perfect, even in your imperfection. 

He likes to trace each fault and flaw that may linger in unsuspecting places with the plush pad of his calloused thumb, to explore the way your body dips at its own will, to memorise each pathway of skin that leads to your heart, a map that’s solely his. He might pluck an eyelash oh so carefully of your cheek, he’ll watch as your chest greets his with each soundless inhale, only to part momentarily when you breathe out again. He likes it best when you’re slotted right between his heartbeat. You’re a dream he’s afraid to wake up from. 

Of course, these moments are only beautiful because of their status as moments. They aren’t eternal, they were made to be preserved. They fade when you wake up; when your big eyes blink up at him like a heedless doe. Like now. When you start to stir, your face scrunching up in a sleepy frown, Mike immediately closes his eyes. He rolls onto his back, one arm draped over his face like he’s shielding himself from the non-existent sunlight, like he hasn’t been watching you for the last ten minutes.

You crack an eyelid, admiring his figure as it soaks up the beginnings of a sunrise. “Morning bedhead,” you tease, grogginess and all. He grunts in acknowledgement, not shifting from his position of comfort. 

“Morning,” he grumbles back, not appreciating the teasing but not having the energy to send anything worthy of offense back at you. Your eyes trace over his messy hair, wild unruly ringlets of chestnut licking at his temples. 

You shuffle over to him, wading through the sea of tangled bedsheets, and ruffle those curls, making his face bunch up like crumpled fabric, in mild irritation. “You look like you lost a fight with a lawnmower,” you snort. He catches your wrist with a solid grip; sturdy as a tree is, down to the root. “Don’t even start. Pretty sure you’ve got me beat.” His voice is a baritone grumble as he references to your own head of locks, knowing full well that the cascading waves of pure velvet that are sewn into your head aren’t even close to looking messy. He teases anyway. 

“I dunno about that,” you murmur. Cocking a hesitant brow, watching his body flex into the sheets as each limb slowly begins to arise from slumber at it’s own snail pace. It’s then you pad out of bed, to go attempt to start the morning━ and he stops you. A dull grunt sounds from his lips and he tugs at your arm. 

“No,” he mumbles━ broken by a dull yawn. “C’mon. You can… you can stay. S’still dark. Nothin’ to do yet.” The sort of puppy-ish pleading that swallows his irises is too strong not to resist to. So you let him have his little ritual; he tucks you into his shoulder, thumb circling supple skin. You let him smell behind your neck and nip at the junction where your collarbone becomes your shoulder becomes your arm. Suddenly it’s turned into lazy tastings of your body. He’s drinking you in in the morning light, rolling you down and deep onto your back to make sure you’re imprinted on his fabric for later, lonelier nights. 

“Mike━” He cuts you off. He has a habit of doing that, when he gets like this. All agitated and croaking, like you are his eternal life source. 

“Shh, no, let me━ let me have this.”

And he’s trekking lower, still. Warm hands planted on your knees, he’s opening your thighs for himself with that look in his eyes. He’s a paradox, greed and yet utter selflessness as he buries his body right where you want him, idly tugging at the waistband of your cotton pajama pants.  

“Gonna make that bedhead worse.” He mumbles almost comically to himself. “Gonna, gonna give you some bed head.”

You roll your eyes, heat of the moment evaporating as you erupt in stupid giggles. “You’re such a dickhead,” you tell him, admiring the smug expression that spreads across his features. He looks like he’s where he belongs, nestled comfortably in that gap he’s made just for him, cradled by your legs. 

“Maybe.” He mumbles with a stupidly self-satisfied grin, delving into you like he knows best. He rolls the cotton comfort of your legs and exposes you to the chilly bedroom air, and knowing it must be unpleasant to be so cold when it’s so early, he’s latching onto you as quick as he can to try and maintain heat pumping through your system. 

And he’s a cocky motherfucker who knows that it works; molten fever rushes through every aching crevice of your figure and pushes to the surface as he flicks his tongue with expertise. He knows every spot, every stroke, every single way that makes you tick. He’s spent a lot of time practicing, exploring, just so he can be perfect. 

Every. Single. Time. 

You’re writhing already, with each motion. Calling his name out to nothing and nobody, the silence of the morning suddenly so obnoxious when it’s broken by the cracking chorus of your moans. Mike. You cry. Mike, Mike, Mike. 

And he’s all entranced by you, you, you, as you quake right into his palms, just how he wants. The perfect way to start the morning is by breaking you apart and dealing with the mess. He admires, awfully, every tremor, every sob, every time your eyes lock with his and you watch him worship you, even if just for a fragile second before they roll back into your skull. 

He plugs you up with one thick finger, reeling in the wet squelching suction of your cunt around his digit. Another follows, curling beside the first, resting snugly inside you. A few testing movements as he tries to find that place, and then finally you double over into yourself mewling like a lamb for slaughter. 

“Oh, that’s it? That’s the spot?” He mutters, baritone voice just so sexy when it’s the only melody spilling into your ears, your brain, you soul. You answer with a little hum, and he coos as your hips buck to meet his palm; catching your weight as you grind your clit into the heel of it. You need more━ you need so much more. 

So he mutters a brief apology as he severs your orgasm; saving it for later, the upcoming future. And leaves you for just a moment, carefully maneuvering himself free from his sodden boxers and pumping his angry length a few times, convulsing as he does so. He’s more sensitive in the mornings, every single goose-pebbled part of him. You bite your lip in anticipation, pink flesh billowing white under the force of your teeth. 

His eyes glance up to you; coffee and caramel stirred with a copper spoon, awaiting your command. “You... you want me, right?” He breathes gently. Shuffling himself closer, hoping to meld a piece of his soul into yours. To secure you to him, through and through. And of course you nod, with ego-inflating eagerness. 

“Course I do. And how about━”

It throws him off when your tender hands grip onto his shoulders; like a turning tide your body steers him of course, pummeled over so he can drown under your current as you position yourself ontop. “Let me,” you whisper, holding his cock so gently in your hands, a contrast of efforts in the way you stroke so slowly, so patiently. In all honesty, he hasn’t got much of that left. 

A salacious groan slips free from his throat. “Shit, can you just, uh, can you please put it in, I can’t━ I’m gonna blow right now.”  

He expects another mocking comment but all he gets is compliance. A gentle kiss, fanning across his freckled cheeks that glow so red in the heat of the moment, a slow and calculated sink of your pelvis against his, and a juggled handful of shared rugged breaths as the feeling of fullness branches across the pair of you. He’ll never get over your fit, it’s too hand-crafted, too cunningly created. His hands shakily struggle to make their way onto your hips, not so much for control as it is to keep himself grounded. Skin to skin to skin, as though to prove you aren’t just a fabrication from his desperate, delusional morning mind. 

When your hips begin to roll, it’s lazy. Grogginess permeates every part of you and there isn’t enough strength for anything more than gentle juts; back and forth, back and forth, a seesaw of sorts, but he appreciates the movement anyway. Mike’s head falls back into the pillow, framed by a halo of his own sweat and drool as he lets you do the work. It’s his own hazy heaven, the morning he wishes he could preserve. 

You suck his cock up deeper into your hole, clamping down on him in a vain attempt to try and keep him there, tucked away inside you forever like a pocketed memory of sorts. He begins to meet your thrusts, sending sparks through each wild thrust of his flying hips. 

“Want this every day,” he whines, deep through his throat like he can’t even contain his words as they bleed all over you in a wash of near orgasmic bliss. 

“Yeah? You do, Mikey? Wanna─ wanna just wake me up to fuck me like this? Right here on your bed?”

His eyelids flutter and unfocus, blunt nails severing the skin of your hipbones as he begins to forcefully drag you across his cock, faster faster faster until the headboard squeaks along with you and he’s completely wordless and wounded. “Wanna fuck you. Wann─ needa fuck you every day, yeah, jus' like that, shit, you were made for me,” he whines, pummelling into you with purpose. Force and purpose. 

He’s spearing you open on his eager cock, nudging your cervix, coaxing an orgasm out of it’s grave, the one he ended from earlier. You can feel it brewing and bubbling inside you, erupting it’s carnal desire like acid wash across your narrow cunt as you drink him in tighter, willing him to come with you. “Mikey, mmm, come with me, c’mon, please─”

And it’s your begging that sends him over. A saccharine flush melts across his entire body, bottom to top, and he’s moaning as he tugs his length from beneath your folds and showers your sweaty torso in a creamy wash of white ribbons, spraying buckets from your belly button right up to your chin.

There is calm after the storm. A tranquil quiet falls back over his modest bedroom, accompanied by heavy breathing and the rustling of sheets. The aftertaste of the morning is careful sponge-washing and coffee. He clears you off with a damp washcloth, love ebbs from every action from him to you, like an endless chain. A circle has no end because it has no beginning; Mike thinks he’s always been drawn to you, even before you both knew it─  because he’s always been looking for this. For the gentle fleeting kisses that he’s showered in before the morning, for the bed he returns to which smells like sex and sodden promises. He can’t wait for you to get home so that he can come back to his bed-headed girl. 

masterlist

[spotsandsocks]

🎅🏼 + Breakfast if it sparks joy 💛 xx

Hello Meegs so happy you’re joking in the festive shenanigans of Spotty’s Christmas stocking. Breakfast you say… well u don’t like to go the obvious path all the time so see what you think about this 😉 around 700 words of silly fire fam ridiculousness and a pinch of Buddie. 😘 hope you enjoy it.

Eddie joins his team at the table and before he’s had time to put his coffee cup down he regrets it.

“It’s boring!”

“Excuse me!”

Hen and Chim stare each other down. Eyeing the two of them nervously then making eye contact with Buck on the other side of the table all he gets is a shrug from his best friend.

Hen also shrugs but while Buck’s was confused hers is defiant and unrepentant. She’s clearly planning to stand by her statement. In fact she repeats it, slowly. An obvious taunt to her best friend.

“Bo-ring!”

Chim looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“You take that back! It’s a classic! Cla- sic!!”

Hen shakes her head with a smirk.

Not sure he actually wants to know Eddie asks anyway.

“What are we talking about?”

Buck’s the one who answers

“Some old movie I think.”

Chimney’s outrage changes direction.

“Some old movie … you think?”

Buck’s eyes flick from Chimney back to Eddie’s a little desperately.

“Isn’t it?”

Chim collapses face down onto the table muttering to himself, the only word Eddie catches sounds like ‘uneducated’

Hen’s sniggering, “ just not my kind of movie.”

Chim’s head lifts “at least you’ve heard of it, seem it!” Then he’s back down despairing about his brother in law.

He catches Hen’s amused eye and mouths ‘what movie?’

She replies just as silently, “The Breakfast Club”

Now it’s him shrugging, he’s seen it. Not his favourite film but it's ok.

So three very different points of view here - clueless, passionately enthusiastic and completely disinterested. He should have gone to sit with Saunders or Weiz.

“Not my fault I’ve never heard of The Lunch Club”

“Breakfast! Breakfast Club! Buck come on!” Chim sits up then stands up, looking upset. Unfortunately he then turns to Eddie.

“Eddie?”

“What?” He tries to delay the inevitable but it’s no good.

“It’s a classic right?!”

“It’s…” faced with a tricky situation, Eddie reminds himself he’s been brought up to be honest even when it’s difficult. Anticipating trouble he tells the truth anyway.

“Ok.”

Hen laughs out loud and Buck still looks blank. Chim’s face goes blank.

“Fine, obviously none of you have any taste so I’m going to go and find some more civilised people to have lunch with.”

And with that he takes his plate and leaves.

Watching him go, Hen goes back to eating her salad. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.”

“Pretty sure Maddie’s never seen it either.” Buck mutters to himself and Eddie’s glad Chim has already gone so he doesn’t get any more bad news on one day.

“I’ll put it in the list.”

Eddie smiles across the table and Buck smiles back. They both enjoy the time they spend together going through the list. Personally Eddie’s glad Buck’s not seen so many movies, the list is fairly long now and it’s a wonderful excuse to spend time together, sitting close together on one of their couches.

“Maybe we can watch it on Friday?”

“We could but I thought we were watching Jaws.”

Eddie has high hopes that Jaws will make Buck jump a few times and he’ll be able to tease him but also offer a comforting hand on his leg or knee or at least move a little closer to him. It’s a classic move as well as a classic movie.

He notices that Hen’s fork has stopped halfway to her mouth. She’s staring at Buck. “You’ve never seen Jaws?! Now that’s a classic!”

“Nah, it’s not that good if you ask me.”

They all turn to look at Bobby who’s just sat down. Hen’s face looks not too dissimilar to Chimney’s when Eddie had joined them.

“Excuse me!” Hen sounds rather like her friend did too.

Bobby shrugs and Eddie catches Buck’s eye and makes a small gesture with his head to indicate they should leave. Buck nods and stands up and they both edge away from the table as surreptitiously as they can. They needn’t of bothered because Hen and Bobby are locked in a ‘discussion’ about the virtues of Jaws.

Which means that when he sits next to Buck on the station couch no one’s there to notice or comment on how close they’re sitting to each other when the whole couch is empty. Buck doesn’t mind the lack of personal space and if he doesn’t mind neither does Eddie. He listens as Buck calls Maddie to warn her Chim might ask her about some old weird movie he likes and Eddie smiles and looks forward to his next movie night with Buck.

Inspired by my daughter’s reaction to the breakfast club. She loves 80s movies and was not impressed with it at all 😂 I also had never seen it till last year when I watched it with her. So we are Buck and Hen combined and I send my apologies to all the Chim’s out there 🫣

[kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick]

Merry Kissmas, Day 24—Christmas Eve

Arthur is pretty sure now. The events of the last three days have been enlightening.

Merlin feels it too.

He wanted nothing more than to tell Merlin that it was okay, that he had nothing to be sorry for, that Arthur wanted the second kiss too. And a third and a fourth and—

He heaves a sigh as he stands in his kitchen on Christmas Eve morning, waiting for his coffee to brew. There is no work today, but he’s going to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party tonight, which will be in the office, and Merlin will be there.

He didn’t get a chance to tell Merlin anything yesterday. It seemed far too private to say in front of anyone else, and he worried Merlin would be too afraid to meet him in his office again. He considered texting and that was how he realized he didn’t know what to say. Well. He knew what to say, but every way he could think to say it sounded weirdly pathetic. Then he started to doubt if it was the right thing to do at all.

Maybe this is just what it's like when you kiss someone every single day for twenty-three days. Maybe he would have fallen in love with anyone if he did this with them. He certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with Merlin of all people.

This is the doubt he’s been wrestling with, but somehow he knows it’s not true. Somehow he knows this is real.

He knows because of how he always looks forward to Merlin’s kiss. How he always finds himself smiling when he thinks about Merlin, which he does a lot now. The warmth that spreads through him whenever he looks at Merlin, his tousled hair, his ears, the line of his neck, his dirty shoes that are completely inappropriate for an office setting.

He supposes he’s always been a little bit in love with Merlin. But this past month has really brought it to his attention.

At a loss for what else to do, Arthur calls Morgana.

“Hey, Morgana,” he greets, “I was just wondering... is Merlin coming to your party tonight?”

“Yes, as far as I know,” she answers.

“So he hasn’t told you that he won’t be coming after all?”

“Why, is there some reason you don’t want him to come?”

“No, I want him to come. I really want him to come.”

“Is there some reason you think he won’t?” When he doesn’t respond, she continues, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Er....”

Morgana sighs. “Does this have anything to do with the weird game you two have been playing?”

“How do you know about that?

“Gwen.”

“She told you?”

“I have a right to know when you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“I should never have done any of that stuff in front of her.”

“Oh, she told me about the ones you didn’t do in front of her.”

“Ugh. Merlin. Is there no such thing as privacy?”

“So what’s the problem? Have you fallen in love?”

Arthur is silent.

“Oh my god, you have. Oh, Arthur,” and a hint of humanity slides into her voice, underneath a thousand layers of irony and condescension. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, that’s why you called, you want advice.”

“No, no I don’t want your advice.”

“My advice is simple: follow your heart. Do what it is that you want to do.”

“That’s your advice? Why?”

“Because, I’m pretty sure Merlin wants you as much as you want him and I want him to be happy.”

“You really think that?”

“Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. God only knows why.”

“Thanks, Morgana,” Arthur says, then his sincerity runs dry. “I still think this is a trap.”

She laughs.

He hangs up.

In his own shitty flat that gets shittier the longer he stays at Arthur’s flat, Merlin is also thinking about the last three days and dreading the party tonight. The difference is, he’s still thinking about it in terms of the game. There’s no way he can win, and he doesn’t want to anyway. He thinks a tie would be the most preferable outcome, but at this point, it doesn’t really matter.

Except that Arthur will be insufferable if he wins. And he’ll remind Merlin about it at every opportunity, driving the knife deeper each time. But still, he can’t seem to bring himself to care.

Let him kiss me , he thinks, brooding into his morning tea. I want him to kiss me .

He spends the day dreaming about what it will be like and planning his reaction to it. He has every intention of kissing Arthur back. He’s done that several times and nothing has come of it.

As he’s sitting there, spiraling inside his own mind, he gets a phone call from Gwen and immediately answers it, desperate for anything. “Hello.”

“Hi, Merlin, are you busy?”

“No.”

“Would you like something to do?”

“Yes, please. God, yes.”

“Wow. Okay. I’m helping Morgana decorate for the party tonight and we could use an extra set of hands. And someone taller.”

“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up, leaps off of his chair, and gets ready in minutes flat. He already has his outfit picked out: black jeans that he thinks make his arse look good and an “ugly” Lord of the Rings Christmas jumper with all four hobbits on it.

“That was fast,” Gwen greets him at the door. She’s wearing a red velvet off-the-shoulder dress with her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck except for a couple ringlets that frame her face.

“You look amazing,” Merlin says, taking her in.

“Thank you.” She looks down. “I like your jumper.”

“Thanks.” They hug, and her embrace fills him with a sense that maybe everything will be okay.

“We’re in here.” She leads him further into the building where the party will take place, in the employee break room on the first floor and the wide open space in front of it. It’s a mirror of the second floor where Merlin works and he can’t help but look at and notice all the places that look like the places where he and Arthur have kissed. The front door. The desk that looks just like his. The boss’s office to the side. The table. Against the wall. He tingles at the memories and it makes his heart hurt.

“Lance!” Merlin cries when he sees Gwen’s boyfriend helping Morgana with decorations.

“Merlin!” Lance cries, then comes over and gives Merlin a hug.

“Long time no see,” Merlin grins.

“Yes, too long.”

“Hi, Merlin,” greets Morgana, who is stunning as usual in a green dress, her glossy black hair cascading over one shoulder. She wraps her arms around him and he feels blessed by her presence.

“Wait, I thought you said you needed someone tall,” Merlin says to Gwen, glancing at Lance who is roughly the same height as Merlin.

“We could use two tall people,” she says.

“I can give you a boost and you can help me with these,” Lance says, holding up some artificial mistletoe sprigs.

Merlin looks annoyed at Gwen. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” she winces.

Merlin shakes his head and turns to help Lance. After Lance gives him a boost and he hangs the mistletoe, he slides down in his arms and they’re left standing together underneath it, looking into each other’s eyes. Merlin blushes, then lets go of Lance, pulls away, grabs Gwen, and throws her into Lance’s arms.

“Hi,” she blinks, grabbing his shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiles, looking at her with the most loving expression.

Merlin watches as they kiss, his smile fading after a moment, wishing he could have the same thing with Arthur.

He feels Morgana’s hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

“Oh yeah? What do you know about it?”

“I know.” And there is a strange twinkle in her eye that gives him an unfathomable sense of hope.

Arthur always arrives fashionably late to Morgana’s Christmas Eve party, but tonight he finds himself impatient and eager to get there, so, after delaying his arrival as long as he can stand, he shows up less than an hour after it ostensibly started.

It appears to be in full swing; there are many people there, most of whom he knows, but there’s really only one person he wants to see.

“Hello, dear brother,” Morgana greets in her sarcastically sweet tone, coming at him from the left and putting her arm around him, a glass of what is probably champagne in her other hand.

“Hello, Morgana,” he sighs, slipping his arm around her waist halfheartedly.

“Merlin’s over there.” She points with her glass and Arthur sees Merlin’s dark hair just poking out above the heads of some other people whose faces he tunes out as he hones in on Merlin.

His palms sweat and his breathing is shallow as he makes his way into the breakroom where Merlin is standing beside a spread of Christmas desserts and, to Arthur’s dismay, is talking to Gwaine, looking very excited to be doing so.

Merlin turns when Arthur comes close and immediately looks annoyed. “Oh, of course you’re wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. And of course it’s that one.”

Arthur looks down at Merlin’s chest and notices he is also wearing a Lord of the Rings jumper. “What’s wrong with this?” he asks, indicating his own jumper, with the White Tree of Gondor on it.

“You’re wearing that because you fancy yourself Aragorn.”

“And you fancy yourself Frodo.”

“Frodo is the main character.”

“And Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor.”

They stare at each other in hostility for a moment, before Merlin breaks it with a smile, and Arthur has to smile back. “It is a pretty cool jumper.”

“Thanks. I like yours too.”

“Thanks. Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hi, Arthur,” says Gwaine as Merlin turns to fill a champagne flute for Arthur.

“Oh. Hi, Gwaine.”

“Looking forward to tonight?”

“Yeah, it should be fun.”

“I’ll meet you under the mistletoe.” He winks.

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m sure someone will.”

Just then, Merlin hands him his champagne. “Morgana always has the best drinks,” Merlin says. “She has some new purple... punch or something over there.”

“What’s in it?” Arthur asks.

“I dunno.”

“Is it good?”

“I dunno, is it, Gwaine?”

Gwaine takes a drink from his cup. “Very.”

“A bit of advice, for both of you,” Arthur says. “Don’t trust Morgana.”

“I trust her more than I trust you,” Merlin says.

“Oh yeah?” Arthur says, and steps closer to Merlin, who shrinks away just visibly, and Arthur fights the need to back off because Merlin is being ridiculous. “What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”

Arthur sees Merlin’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “I dunno. What are you gonna do to me?” He stands up straighter, practically daring Arthur to kiss him.

Arthur barely manages to tear his eyes away from Merlin’s lips. “Nothing.” He steps back and turns toward the table full of Christmas treats. He picks something up without even knowing what it is and puts it in his mouth. A biscuit.

“Well,” says Gwaine. “I guess I’ll see who else I can trap under the mistletoe.”

Merlin is surprised by how normal his and Arthur’s interactions are that night. All his anxiety melted away when he saw Arthur and they fell into their usual banter. They are inseparable all night. They eat. They dance. They drink. But still, Arthur doesn’t try to kiss him.

Merlin can’t understand why. Arthur would win. He’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain. It’s like he doesn’t want to win. It drives Merlin mad, and he’s torn between drinking as much as he can and staying sober so he can enjoy Arthur’s kiss when it does come.

The night creeps by and still it doesn’t come.

Finally, a slow song comes on and people are actually slow dancing to it. Lance is of course a great dancer and Merlin watches him and Gwen for a moment before Arthur approaches.

“Are you going to dance with me on this one?” he asks, slipping his arms around Merlin’s waist.

A spark crackles through Merlin’s body at the touch and his arms are circling Arthur’s shoulders before he can stop them. “Yes,” he hears himself say.

Arthur smiles at him as they begin to sway and Merlin can’t help but smile back as it goes on. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Arthur’s. They are the only two people in the world and it feels so strange but so right, moving like this.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Arthur asks after long moments stretch out before them.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t tried to kiss me at all. You could tie, you know.”

“I don’t want to tie.”

“Why not?”

This is the moment. Arthur is so close and Merlin could tell him everything, but as he stands on the precipice, he finds he is too cowardly.

Merlin is driving Arthur insane . They are together the whole night, so close they are almost touching, then when they do eventually touch, Merlin won’t tell him what he wants. Maybe it’s all the other people around.

He steps away from Merlin before the song is over and gives him a hard look. Merlin looks surprised, apprehensive even. Arthur looks around for an escape route, sees a broom closet, takes Merlin’s hand, and drags him in there, closing the door behind them.

“A closet? Really?” comes Merlin’s voice in the dark.

“Hang on, I think there’s a light in here.” Merlin is leaning against the wall and Arthur has to reach behind him to find the switch. When the light turns on, he’s crowding Merlin up against the wall.

“What are you doing, Arthur?”

“You have not tried to kiss me all night. Why?”

Merlin’s look of indignation fades into something far sadder until he looks so completely miserable it makes Arthur feel like a terrible person for having done this to him. His arms are crossed, protecting himself from Arthur, but he goes slack, leaning against the wall, all possible traces of anger gone. “You know why.”

All Arthur can hear is his own breathing as he takes it in. He does know why. He’s known it for days. He feels it himself. Neither of them care about this stupid game anymore. It’s gone so far beyond that, it’s impossible to even remember what that was like.

Arthur closes his eyes, then opens them. “Let’s tie.”

“Hm?” Merlin’s brow quirks hopefully.

Arthur takes Merlin’s shoulders in his hands and leans even closer. “I don’t care about the game,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “I just want you. Let’s tie.”

Then Merlin is leaning forward and Arthur has felt his kiss before, in fact, he’s felt this exact fervor behind it, but this time it is unbound by any pretense and Merlin tilts fully into it, grabbing Arthur and holding him close, so close it’s as if he can’t get close enough, their entire bodies pressed together in the closet, and Arthur finally lets himself go too, exploring Merlin’s mouth like he’s always wanted to and it’s warm, heat spreading like fire throughout his body at every contact point between him and Merlin. He pushes forward, crushing Merlin against the wall because he really can’t get close enough.

He has to pull away for breath and to look at Merlin, flushed and disheveled and beautiful in the harsh lighting.

It is far more than Merlin ever hoped for. Even with all the assurances from his friends and his decision to just let it happen and how seemingly romantic Arthur is being, his heart soars like he can’t believe when Arthur says, “I just want you.”

It is like a dream and despite how dirty it probably is in that closet, Arthur’s kiss is pure and right and sets Merlin alight his entire body over and there is nowhere he’d rather be than between Arthur and that wall. He tastes like biscuits and peppermint and champagne and love.

When Arthur finally breaks away, he is glowing. Even the fluorescent lighting loves him.

Arthur strokes Merlin’s face with his thumb. “You are so beautiful, Merlin,” he says breathlessly. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Merlin swallows. “Me too.”

“Now that it’s finally over,” he says, nosing Merlin’s cheek, “I wanna take you home,” a kiss to his jaw, “and I won’t stop until there isn’t an inch of you I haven’t kissed.”

“What? You don’t just say things like that.”

“I do now.” He presses closer to Merlin and a surge of arousal flows through his body like never before.

“Oh god, yes,” Merlin breathes. “Arthur. I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“You’ve waited this long, what’s a few more minutes?”

“An eternity.”

Arthur kisses him again and it’s the first kiss that is free from the confines of the game. It’s strong and it’s sweet and so quintessentially Arthur. Merlin is thrilled yet not surprised at all that he knows it so well.

As they duck out of the closet, saying a rushed goodbye to the party in general, Gwaine can be heard saying to Gwen, “Finally.”

[magnagaruzenmon]

Heat Miser

This is a bit of a double gift one for @fanfiction4sooya and one for the lady who runs this page specifically

To Lua when I started writing again I wanted to follow more female writers and by far you have been the kinder and most helpful in terms of having me feel less loss in different exploration of ideas and understanding. So from the bottom of my heart I give you the biggest obrigado

To Maggy you despite your crippling anxiety about being tracked you found me and pushed me to start writing again. So thank you for getting me back into shape.

The living room is alive with the warm hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft crackle of the fireplace. Strings of twinkling lights cast a cozy glow over the room, their reflection dancing in ornaments hanging from the Christmas tree. You’re nestled into the corner of the couch, the comfortable cushions cradling your tired body after hours of playing host. Around you, your friends are engaged in animated conversations, exchanging gifts, and snapping pictures under the mistletoe.

Jihyo is in the center of it all, radiant and magnetic, holding court as she always does. Her laughter rings out like a bell, drawing everyone in. You can’t help but admire her from afar, but tonight, a small pang of selfishness tugs at your chest. You just want a quiet moment alone with your girl.

Without drawing attention, you slip your phone out of your pocket and type a quick message: "hey babe I need some attention."

The second you hit send, you tuck your phone away and push yourself off the couch, blending into the social swirl. If you’re going to sneak a moment with Jihyo later, you might as well make a good impression as a host now. You grab a refill for someone’s drink, laugh at a joke you only half-heard, and dodge a particularly heated debate about holiday movie rankings.

That’s when you notice me—standing awkwardly in the hallway near the stairs, looking like I’m trying to disappear into the wallpaper. I’m shifting uncomfortably, tugging at the collar of my sweater, clearly out of my element. Something about the way I linger at the edge of the crowd tugs at your latent maternal instinct.

You weave through the throng of people and approach me, your voice soft but audible over the festive noise. "Hey, is everything alright?"

I nod quickly, offering a polite but strained smile. "Yeah, just…a little overwhelmed. It’s really warm in here."

You nod in understanding and glance toward the fireplace and the tightly packed crowd. "Yeah, sorry about that. My baby girl loves to keep things hot," you say, smiling apologetically.

I chuckle weakly at your joke but shake my head. "No worries. Do you know somewhere cooler?"

You hesitate, your mind flipping through options. You could send me to one of the upstairs rooms, but the thought makes you pause. Jihyo might finally peel herself away from the party to answer your text, and you want the space to yourselves when she does. After a brief moment of consideration, you gesture toward the sliding glass doors at the back of the house.

"Why don’t you head to the guest house by the pool? It’s quiet out there, and you can cool off for a bit."

Relief washes over my face as I nod. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

You watch as I slip through the sliding doors and out into the crisp night air, disappearing toward the softly lit guest house. Satisfied that I’ll find some peace, you turn back to the party, scanning the room for Jihyo. You're not waiting for long as two hands cover your eyes.

"I hear you're looking for me," Jihyo says in her low sultry voice. You rub your thighs together as her voice always manages to heat things up between the two of you.

"That depends are you gonna be a good girl for mommy," you hear Jihyo stifle a moan as you use the tone that sends a jolt right to her core.

"Yes. I love being a good girl for mommy," Jihyo says submissive and pliant. You smirk and tell her to meet you in your bedroom in 15 minutes.

"But mommy?" Jihyo begs

"Is that back talk?" you question quickly silencing the smaller woman.

"No I just need you," she says as she rubs her thighs together the wetness between them drives her crazy.

You nod then reply, "I know but I need you a little bit more hot and bothered." Jihyo's eyes widen as you walk to your room. While waiting for your lovely girlfriend you turn on the heater in your room and slowly strip. By the time Jihyo is supposed to come in you already have a nice layer of sweat building around your skin.

When she enters she sees your bare body waiting for her. She whimpers and says, "Momo I'm so hot." you smile and respond.

"I know darling, Now eat Mommy then we'll see what we can do for you." Jihyo happily approaches as she wedges herself between your legs. She first starts by doing small semi-circles around your clit causing you to moan as her hot tongue sets your nerves alight.

"That's it, baby girl, keep licking Mommy," you say encouraging Jihyo to continue. Jihyo moans as she slowly inches into your pussy. You smile and yelp as her tongue dips into your walls.

"fuck you moan," as Jihyo continues to tongue fuck you. You groan as your eyes roll into the back of your head before you reach your limit. You cum all over your baby girl's face and the heat between you two only intensifies as you bring Jihyo up to your face your taste still lingering on her face as the two of you make out.

You playfully paw at her breasts causing Jihyo to moan into your kiss,

"Oh mommy," Jihyo says before aligning yourselves together. You smile as you bite her bottom lip causing Jihyo even more pleasure as the two of you get closer. You push Jihyo down as you rut on top of her. Jihyo moans as she feels the heat inside her rage into a fiery tempest. Her moans melodically fill the room as you dominate her further.

"Yes, Mommy" Jihyo repeats like a mantra as she reaches Nirvana. You smile watching your baby girl reach her climax. After she does you get up and begin dressing yourself while Jihyo cools down from your little session.

"Please do hydrate baby girl Mommy doesn't want you becoming mush now," You say coyly as you region the party.

[mrslaflour]

📸 cheese babe.

pairing — taehyun x reader

warnings — noncon filming, restraints, reader is drugged tf out, taehyun totally just cum shotted all over reader, somnophilia things but no sex scene, didn’t proof read shit, all lowercase

notes — VERY QUICK DRABBLE. yes, yes i did post this before grape party kai. this is a tiny drabble to hold you over that i just scribbled down basically :p.

you feel numb. tingles spreading throughout your whole body but you can’t move a single muscle. your eyes can only part slightly, everything else remaining blurry. god, how late is it? was this just another late night nap? you hear a click and then a bright flash come through your eyes causing you to groan.

“you’re awake?”

another voice. in your room? you live alone. you go to speak up but nothing comes out. nothing can come out. it’s like your tongue is just dead and your lips refuse to fully part. you go to sit up but even that task isn’t possible. your arms are stuck behind your back, you finally notice that. but still. you should be able to lift your chest. now you’re worried and your breathing becomes heavier and more strained. it wasn’t until you felt a cold hand press against your chest that you realized you probably were naked. you say probably considering that fact that you can’t move your head to look and you can barely see out of your eyes in the first place.

“you’re my muse for the night. you’re drugged the fuck out though, so if you’re freaking out due to the sensory issues, there’s your answer.”

a man’s voice. that’s all you could get out of what he just said. well, other than the fact that he definitely either kidnapped you or has you out in the back of an alley, once again, you’re literally in the dark. it’s starting to even become difficult to think straight. he moves his hand from your chest and brushes a hair behind your ear.

“i’ll show you the pictures when i’m done and well, when you’re not so out of it.”

he moves away and you hear a few more clicks and see a few more flashes. your eyes shut, and you decide to keep them like that. you feel him push you onto your back and spread your legs open. feeling an extremely cold breeze against your sex. you hear him mumble a few things, but you can’t make them out.

“can you smile?”

it’s silent. you can’t respond and he just laughs. you feel what feels like a giant weight on top of you and two fingers prodding at the corners of your mouth pushing it into a smile and the click of his camera again. that noise was gonna drive you crazy. you feel his arms move lower and start rubbing your sides and gliding through your collarbone.

“i could really have my way with you right now. don’t have to worry about you bitching, screaming for me to stop, pushing me away…”

he pauses.

“but that would be too easy. a struggle is always fun.”

he slaps you and tilts his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“could you feel that? are you still there?”

you slightly open your eyes and the tiniest tear pokes out. he hums in content.

“assuming you can hear me, just know you shouldn’t piss me off. i’m not afraid to kill you. it’s not hard for me to find someone new.”

he stands up off of you and you close your eyes again once the camera flash blinds you again. you feel him go to mess with your wrists and the slightest bit of tension seems to be released. he has a hold on one of your wrists and moves it over to your crotch and your other hand to your breast. moving you around like a doll.

“say cheese…”

another click. another flash.

“you look like a fucked out drunk little bimbo. i should live stream this and have people tell me what i should do to you. would give me some more ideas of what positions to put you in for my photos.”

you’re passed out. well…not completely. you can feel everything he’s doing, hear everything, but you can’t think anymore, and you can’t even open your eyes anymore. more tingles bouncing throughout your body.

the sound of a different button can be heard as well as the sound of the camera being placed on the floor. you hear his footsteps come closer to you and the sound of a zipper.

“i know i said it’d be too easy but i have plenty of chances to let you play hard to get after this.”

you hear him groan a couple times before you feel something cold dripping on your stomach and slowly moving up to your face.

“what a shot. can you say cheese for the video?”

he leans down and you feel his hand touch your face before he moves your face on its side. presumably so you can face said camera. you then feel full all the sudden. a sense of splitting in you and you groan. the feeling starts to become painful.

“sh, just lay there and look pretty and let me do all the work.”

he goes deeper in you as he moves up more so he can put his finger on the corner of your lips and moves it up into a smile again.

“say cheese!”

[devildomwriter]

You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part II

Not even in the theatre yet and things are already going wrong among the brothers and a joke by MC quickly and legally escalates.

You watched Lucifer drag Mammon to the parking lot across the street and knew you’d been right that Mammon had messed something up. Someone else was watching this happen from the balcony and decided to assist.

MC: “Barbatos? Why aren’t you with Diavolo?”

Barbatos: “I spotted a certain troublemaker and thought I’d help.”

MC: “Mammon?”

Barbatos: “You are most correct.”

Leviathan: “Wait, don’t leave me, I’m getting this on video!”

MC: “Levi you should probably stay here…”

Leviathan: “This is gonna get so many views on DevilTube. Lol.”

Lucifer: “What were you thinking you idiot?”

Mammon: “I forgot!”

Lucifer: “You forgot about thirteen different weapons?”

Mammon: “No! I forgot about seventeen!”

Lucifer: “Where the hell are the other four!?”

Barbatos: “Shall I help you look for them?”

Lucifer: “Good, Barbatos, you’re here. Please extend my apologies to Lord Diavolo.”

Barbatos: “That won’t be necessary he’s been watching from the balcony, I haven’t seen him so entertained in a long time.”

Mammon: “What the hell?!”

Barbatos: “Silence. Why don’t we find those four other weapons you mentioned?”

Mammon: “I was wrong, it was definitely thirteen!”

Lucifer: “Is that what the metal scanners and pat down will say?”

Mammon: “…”

Barbatos: “You thought it wise to lie to us?”

Mammon: “Someone save me!”

You looked up from your phone after hearing a bit of noise when you remembered that Mammon getting beaten up by Lucifer was not a common practice in the Human world.

MC: “Well…shit.”

Leviathan: “Looks like a crowd is forming.”

MC: “Yep, this is gonna escalate fast…”

Asmodeus: “I got the popcorn— AHHHH!”

Asmodeus: “Beelzebub you gave me a heart attack!”

Beelzebub: “Mmmmm.”

Belphegor: “Is that what human world cop cars look like?”

MC: “Yep. Wow. Three of them.”

Leviathan: “Huh? They just walked away!?”

Asmodeus: “Well that’s boring.”

Diavolo: “Of course they did.”

MC: “Dia!”

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you could make it!”

Belphegor: “So…do the cops just not care?”

MC: “That’s definitely how it’s gonna get reported after seeing that.”

Diavolo: “Barbatos just used a bit of hypnosis that’s all. Oh, MC, I think someone is looking for you?”

You looked to see the officer you’d joked with earlier coming up to you, looking sincerely concerned, and you realized you may have made a mistake.

Security Officer: “Excuse me, I’d like you to have this.”

MC: “Oh, why thank you, Sir…”

Asmodeus: “What? What did he give you, his number?”

MC: “Some sort of phone number.”

Leviathan: “The fights over now so I’ll just look it up.”

Leviathan: “Uh…it’s the helpline for victims of….traffic accidents?”

MC: “Huh? No way it says that.”

MC: “………..I think I messed up…”

Belphegor: “Are you okay MC?”

MC: “No. I was making a joke, just telling him how I met you and I think maybe he thought I was serious…”

Diavolo: “How we met? You mean summoning you?”

MC: “Summoning…kidnapping…same thing.”

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha!”

Leviathan: “Are you sure you should be laughing…”

Beelzebub: “I’m out of popcorn.”

Asmodeus: “Ugh already! That was so expensive.”

Leviathan: “Satan, you came back. What are you drinking?”

Satan: “Some kind of tonic?”

Diavolo: “Hide it, quickly!”

Satan: “Hm? What?”

Diavolo: “I’d rather Lucifer not know there are bars here, especially given how things are going already.”

MC: “That sounds like a fun time, at least he’ll be smiling.”

Diavolo: “I don’t like his scary smile.”

MC: “I think it’s hilarious.”

Asmodeus: “Only cause you’ve never had to deal with the aftermath of one of those!”

MC: “He tried to murder me like three times.”

Leviathan: “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

Satan: “To be fair he wasn’t smiling.”

Asmodeus: “See!”

MC: “I’m going to sit down somewhere, tell me if anything catches fire.”

Satan: “Why would it?”

MC: “At this point why not?”

Mammon was back in line dragged past a crowd of worried and angry people and set right in front of the guard who was very anxious to have these people back in his normally calm line.

Mammon: “…”

Guard: “N-name…”

Mammon: “Mam— OW! Matthew…fucking ugly ass stupid bastard name…”

Guard: “…”

Guard: “You may proceed…”

Lucifer: “I apologize for my brother’s antics. Here’s a tip for your troubles.”

Guard: “R-right…”

Lucifer: “I’ll leave a good word with your managers. I never did get your name?”

Guard: “My name is…Matthew.”

Lucifer: “…”

Mammon: “…Shit, my bad man…”

Lucifer: “Stop talking.”

Mammon: “Fine.”

Guard: “…have a good show.”

Everyone was finally together outside the main entrance.

Diavolo: “Lucifer, so glad you could join us.”

Lucifer: “I apologize for our late arrival.”

Diavolo: “No need to apologize, I’m just glad we’re all here before the show begins.”

Lucifer: “I need a drink.”

Satan: “There’s plenty of Demonus waiting at home. This is a proper theatre, alcohol isn’t allowed.”

Lucifer: “I’m aware.”

Diavolo: *winks at Satan*

Satan: *nodding*

Barbatos: “Young Master why don’t we go find our seats.”

Diavolo: “Yes, let’s. We’ll have a chance to sit and talk before the show that way.”

Lucifer: “Right. Come along, everyone. Where’s Beelzebub…”

MC: “Popcorn machine.”

Lucifer: *sigh* “MC please keep an eye on him.”

MC: “That’s the plan. Diavolo save me a seat.”

Diavolo: “Next to me?”

MC: “Please.”

Diavolo: “Haha! Certainly.”

Leviathan: “Stupid normies…”

MC: “What was that?”

Leviathan: “Nothing!”

Belphegor: “I’ll stay with MC.”

Satan: “Okay. Levi lets go. There are pretzels upstairs.”

Leviathan: “I’m not a kid!”

Satan: “Fine. I rescind my offer.”

Leviathan: “Wait, I didn’t mean that!”

You sighed and leaned into Belphegor as you stood there watching Asmodeus talk his way into more bags of popcorn than he was paying for as Beelzebub wolfed them down just as quickly, scaring some children in line.

Luke: “MC!”

Belphegor: “Huh?”

Luke: “It is you! I knew it!”

MC: “Luke!? What are you doing here?”

Solomon: “We heard Diavolo invited you and the brothers to a human world play so I thought we’d come along.”

MC: “You invited yourselves?”

Solomon: “Sort of?”

Simeon: “We wanted it to be a surprise. Solomon got the same box too.”

Belphegor: “As long as Luke doesn’t kick the back of my seat it’s fine.”

Luke: “Keep talking like that and I might. Hmph!”

Simeon: “Now, now Luke. Oh my…that’s a lot of police officers did something happen?”

MC: “Oh dear…Belphie go get Asmo and Beel, we’re going upstairs now.”

Solomon: “Did something happen?”

MC: “Sort of. You should probably not be seen with us right now, why don’t you go surprise the others upstairs.”

Simeon: “…Right…that seems most advisable.”

Solomon: “Let us know if you need anything.”

MC: “Bail money possibly.”

Solomon: “Haha! You’re so funny MC.”

MC: “I wasn’t joking.”

Beelzebub: “I want more—“

Asmodeus: “No time for that hon, let’s get to the elevator.”

Belphegor: “Why are the lights flashing?”

MC: “It means the play is starting soon. We have to hurry. Just don’t run we’ll be more suspicious that way.”

Asmodeus: “Well, none of us beat Mammon up so we should be fine?”

Beelzebub: “It’s the guard…he looks kinda upset?”

MC: “Pardon?”

Guard: “That’s them.”

Cop A: “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

MC: *whispering* “This is America you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

Asmodeus: “Okie dokie.”

MC: *sigh*

Cop A: “This guard here tells me you know who we’re looking for?”

MC: *panicking* “What guard?”

Cop A: “…”

Cop B: “…”

Asmodeus: “…”

Beelzebub: “…”

Belphegor: “Good one, MC.”

Guard: “Those four were with the others. I don’t know where the green one came from.”

Beelzebub: “The green one?”

Asmodeus: “He means Barbatos.”

Cop B: “So you do know him?”

Asmodeus: “Oopsie.”

Belphegor: “Don’t “Oopsie” me. Stop talking.”

Asmodeus: “But my voice is so pretty that’d be a crime.”

Beelzebub: “I’m getting more popcorn.”

Cop A: “Please stay here, sir.”

Beelzebub: “But I want popcorn.”

MC: “Officer I’ll answer all your questions, that man is…uh…special…he really just wants popcorn. He’s harmless.”

Belphegor: “Did you just airquote special?”

MC: “Please stop talking Belphie.”

Asmodeus: “Ooh, Lucifer’s calling me, I should take this!”

Cop B: “Lucifer?”

Guard: “That’s what they were callin’ the black-haired one who was beating the other Matthew.”

MC: “Other Matthew?”

Guard: “My name is Matthew.”

MC: “…Did my friend say anything—“

Guard: “Yes.”

MC: “I am so sorry, Matthew is a lovely name.”

Cop A: “I’m going to need to ask you all a few questions. First of all, do you know where the victim is?”

MC: “…no.”

Cop B: “Are you sure about that?”

Security Officer: “Mam, I have something to report as well.”

Cop A: “Right, is it related to the case?”

Security Officer: “To the person there yes.”

MC: “To me?”

Belphegor: “We kidnapped you remember.”

MC: “No that was Diavolo.”

Cop A: “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but do you have the piece of paper this man gave you?”

MC: “Oh uh…no, actually, Levi took it.”

Cop B: “And Levi is?”

MC: “The purple-haired man…”

Guard: “The convent one?”

Belphegor: “Levi’s gonna love to know that’s how he’s being remembered.”

MC: “Yes, but—“

Cop A: “Why don’t we talk somewhere a bit more private, Officer McGuire can talk with your associates.”

MC: “Oh I’m fine, really.”

Cop A: “Are you being held against your will in any way?”

MC: “Aren’t we all?”

Belphegor: “That’s the wrong answer MC.”

Cop B: “That’s enough out of you.”

Belphegor: “I’m not the one that kidnapped them that was the rich guy upstairs.”

Cop B: “Are you admitting to knowing about human trafficking ploy?”

Belphegor: “Umm.”

MC: “Wait, it’s fine—“

Cop A: “Honey, I’ve met a lot of victims of abduction, you may feel that way now but I assure you it’s not okay what was done to you.”

MC: “I wasn’t kidnapped I was summoned.”

Cop A: “Excuse me? Like in court?”

MC: “Okay this has gone too far… Asmo. Remember how I said not to charm people…”

Asmodeus: “Ooh! Can I!”

MC: “Make this go away please.”

Asmodeus: “My pleasure! Hey Mr Cop, Misses Cop! Let’s go have some fun somewhere! This case isn’t that big a deal, got it!? Also, this is totally unrelated to any traffic accidents just a bit of an exchange program thing, k?”

Cop A: “Sounds good to me.”

Cop B: “Right it’s not that big a deal.”

Guard: “What are you two talking about? What just happened.”

Security Officer: “I don’t understand…”

MC: “Yeah…I don’t know how to erase memories so I’m sorry you’re both stuck with all this but if it’s any consolation I can tell you the truth.”

Guard: “Yes! What is happening here?”

MC: “My name is MC and I am the master of the seven rulers of the underworld, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting each of the seven deadly sins. Have a good evening.”

With that, you entered the elevator and Beelzebub quickly hit the close door button as the two men looked at each other bewildered.

Previous • Next

[sweatyracoon]

SKZ with Piercings

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Vocalracha

Warnings: needle talk, piercings, sfw and nsfw, language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin-

Wouldn’t get any himself. His ears aren’t even pierced. But he doesn’t mind people with them.

Korea doesn’t have many pierced citizens so it’s a bit odd to see them, but he gets used to them quickly.

Loves his partner’s piercings. He admires them both up close and from afar. Loves touching them randomly with his boba eyes wide with curiosity.

Buys jewelry rarely, but makes sure it’s something you’d like.

Doesn’t like it when you hide them with skin colored resin; he thinks it’s you being ashamed of who you are. You explained that you can’t find a job because of them, and all he replied with was, “You don’t need a job. Just let me take care of you.”

Will argue with anyone that looks at you the wrong way.

If you have a tongue piercing, he loves the feeling of you licking the side of his neck, and his nipples. The cool metal causing them to harden underneath you.

Will go with you to get more.

Loves worshipping your belly button piercing with his teeth. Could kiss each and every jewelry without worrying about the time.

Will change your jewelry if you’re too tired or focused on something else.

Will buy jewelry for certain occasions.

Jeongin-

Loves ear piercings; doesn’t plan on any face piercings other than a dermal maybe.

Loves seeing people with such diverse piercings, not knowing you could pierce literally anywhere on the body.

Once he gets used to seeing them, would look on Pinterest for different kinds.

Asks Bangchan and Felix about it since it’s more common in Australia. Loves seeing the fake piercings on his hyungs.

With his partner, I feel it wouldn’t be talked about, but internally, he would be so interested and curious to if they hurt or not. Loves face piercings on you, as well as any other body mods.

Asks if they hurt when he’s had too many drinks, whining at you to not hurt yourself. Loves seeing the silver in your mouth when you smile.

Absolutely adores any star jewelry, buying all that he sees. Stars end up becoming your favorite shape because of him.

Would buy matching star earrings with you.

Pulls your hair back trust to see your studded ears, loving the way they shine.

Cleans your jewelry if he feels they need more attention and wants you to wear clean jewelry.

Makes sure you take care of them properly after some research if you get any more piercings.

Kisses each piercing when he comes back from tour, not having seen you, or them in months.

Picks a favorite and even gives it a name. Something silly like Ruby or Johnathan.

Loves holding your breasts and face while being intimate, the feeling of the cool steel against his hot hand making him twitch inside you.

Forces his tongue into your mouth to press his tongue flat against your piercings. Loves feeling it against his cock, too.

Loves when you push your head int his neck, feeling the metal scratch aggressively against his skin, sometimes leaving scrapes that he has to his later.