#christmas fic sorta??
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thatsmutaccount · 19 days ago
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HO HO HO, COME ON AND COME ALL! SANTA'S TOY WORKSHOP FOR GROWN CHILDREN IS NOW OPEN, AND ALL OF YOU ARE INVITED TO VISIT! HO HO HO!
ThatSmutAccount 2024 Christmas story is now out! Come and enjoy this special Rex Christmas adventure, where all your choices matter to achieve the perfect ending for Rex.
Merry Christmas, and to all of you a happy new year!
Santa Sex Toy Workshop
A Rex Smutty Choose Your Own Adventure Christmas Story It all started with a snow globe.... And then forests of evergreens, white fields, and a toy factory, always hard at work with its cheerful inhabitants, busy getting everything in order so that it is all ready for Christmas Eve... But this is a story with Rex Brynn, so things are not as they seem, and small changes bring our hero not to the world's most famous toy workshop but to one slightly different, but far more in line with his tastes. Get ready for this Christmas CYOA, and be careful, because every choice counts, and different endings await our hero depending on what is decided
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suzypfonne · 17 days ago
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Psst, want a cute little escape today?
Here you go, enjoy. Happy little story with a lot of humor, flirting, and a touch of holly and berries for seasoning.
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piningpebbles · 1 year ago
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ive got a few posts queued for today but i just wanted to personally say merry christmas!! to all my mutuals out there let it be known i think you're all so cool and hope you're doing well through the holidays (even if you don't celebrate!!) and to my followers thank you for sticking with me through my various other fandoms you did Not come here for it Will Happen Again (and happy holidays too!!)
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ladycatofwinterfell · 1 year ago
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just take your time, we'll wait for you. when the thing you love becomes more of an obligation than fun it just loses it's spark and i know that very well. don't force yourself to do anything you're not up to at the moment🫶🏼
you’re all so sweet <3 I’ve decided not to write a fic for christmas for that reason, I don’t want to force it out of myself
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anguishedlurker · 1 year ago
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(grabs you by the shoulder) Hi. 2.1k words.
Very little leaves Desiree horrified, you see.
She’s a genie, a djinn if you’re being weird about it; Genies grant wishes, and the desires of others can be…Well, rather fucked up.
And the people who could only be saved by a wish are those in such desolate state that Fate itself would prefer to pretend they don’t exist, the birsmirchment on existence too great to admit to.
If she was kinder about her wishes to such folk, that was between her and her final obliteration.
But her point was, most people wanted to use her to be lazy. To not have to dirty their hands with the task they set before her, be it in laziness or attempted refusal of responsibility for their actions. Murder was a fantastically common example of the latter.
So picture; She’s finally broken the brats latest attempts to ward her out of the town, and risen through the building.
Maybe she even left already and came back to leave a nasty surprise for the brat, who knew but for her, really?
The brat had been slumped over on a desk, talking to a painted rubber duck, the red head and cyan body oddly bright in the room.
As odd as it was, she couldn’t claim to care about it. Soliloquizing to inanimate objects was not as uncommon as people liked to pretend.
What was odder was that she snuck up on him, but the answer was simple; He had a cough.
A slight wheeze that had him choking and spluttering on the slightest of wrong movements easily hid the gasp of cold the brat gave.
It was a perfect chance, really.
For someone who had a more offensive powerset, that was. He wasn’t so inexperienced anymore; Any real fight would be her end.
Still, she could be annoying in the mundane sense. She just needed to figure out how while he was distracted.
And then her spotlight towards her goals, once he had stopped coughing.
“I just wish I could go back to when I wasn’t in danger. Just… just safe again.”
By all rights, this one should've been easy.
See, she had world ending powers by all accounts. Time, or the illusion thereof, being rewound on a global scale was not an object.
Obsession bloomed in her core, and her work should’ve been done in moments as she purred out “As you desire.”
It really shouldn’t have taken any thought. Most people’s words are easy to define away into the unideal or downright harmful.
The caveat to that is that she must still abide by her own definitions and technicalities, if no-one else’s could be abused.
But hey, sometimes a wish is genuinely complicated. Sometimes it has a lot of fiddly bits to pull off or needs extra information she didn’t get to look at before jumping in.
Safe is… Safe is a funny word, she’d have to say. Any of the living could trip on steps and die on impact. They’d be terribly unlucky, but not the first to die in such a manner.
So any definition had to, by default, forbid such realities from counting. If it counted, then there was no time at all she could send him.
It had to be his own specific problems.
It should’ve been automatic; Put him before the portal, maybe by a couple of years. Maybe make him a baby again. Who cares?
Safe is an annoying word. Safe is a word that cannot be defined by any one person to fit a whole, and must be assessed on a case by case basis.
The brat was a child. Children, to be safe, would be in low physical danger with access to basic physical needs.
She wasn’t sure what she bounced off of, at first. She had to look to find out.
The Fenton parents had never abided an OSHA law in their lives. They might argue that there were no established laws for their work, and she might have granted plausibility to such an argument if common sense had not evaded them so thoroughly.
No gun with a safety had been created in the house. Every stove repaired hardly better than standing near a wildfire.
She could ignore physical needs, at least, though the images left a bad taste in her mouth. A pantry stocked, as was their job. Never more. Never at the dinner table, never cooking.
His sister did that.
But Desiree could go further back.
Further.
And even further.
Sharp glass, contaminated labs let to the children to clean, insane behavior towards any electronic.
Could she even count the food as fine? They had no issues with letting cross contamination happen.
Young. Younger. Youngest.
Eight, nearly dead by proto-gun. He would never comprehend how lucky he was.
Six, they left for the week. For once they had not remembered to restock the pantry. Jasmine herself was not legally old enough to care for him, anyhow.
Four. They hadn’t learned to keep samples out of the fridge from the first poisoning, clearly.
Two. Can’t they keep a toddler out of the lab? It couldn't be that hard...
Zero should not be an age she ever looked at. But from the day he was brought home, he was in danger.
Now though, in this mess of a wish, she was dragged forward by her obsession.
It had to be complete. She could help or harm but she had to do it, she had to fulfill a desire as stated.
And all through the pregnancy, there was never a time where the contamination was acceptable. She never stopped.
Maddie Fenton would be dead before she’d consider fixing either.
Desiree shouldn’t have made it this far in the search to complete the wish, yet she couldn’t undefine safe to fit. The child would need to be in no notable danger from his environment.
The wish was uncompleteable without reaching through time to mess with these idiots neurons. Whatever her illustrative powers to force the world to turn back, or seem to, there were too many steps involved to both turn back the clock and change the people in the past. Whatever happened needed to be a logical consequence of one or the other, not both.
Such a wish would’ve, should’ve, left her drained yet smug.
Instead she had watched this boys life flash before her eyes and was left to wonder if CPS was a myth the living spoke of.
Vision clearing, cracks moving along her core, she was left blinking up at him.
She knew a lost fight when she got into one, and it took hours to lose him. She was lucky she couldn’t hear him over the wind and her thrumming core, she was certain of that.
He had no issues leveraging her obsession against her any of the previous times, so why now?
It all left her hiding out in a warehouse, glaring the Box Ghost into submission.
Lucky her, most ghosts thought she was stronger than she actually was. Even in their own piece of land she was believed to be best dealt with by not interacting.
She was sure the moment she touched a box it was time to leave again, but she just…
She needed time.
The child was a brat, to be certain. She would not be swayed on this topic.
A brat with a sad life, and a sad little burden all on his lonesome.
But she’d known that, hadn’t she? Never questioned it. Mocked him for it.
Dead, or a creepy little boy with creepy powers?
Creepy powers that could very well get him killed the rest of the way if his parents found out. Who knew what the lunatics would do.
A brat with nobody meaningfully in his corner. Nobody who both cared and was capable of protection.
Maybe that’s why he was Obsessed with protecting other people. Nobody who mattered for the job had deigned to do it for even a single moment in his life.
“I, THE BOX GHOST, HAVE RESIGNED TO ASKING YOU WHY YOU ARE HEErrrEEE.” The fool shouted, waving his arms. Boxes rattled around her in a threat display.
She was forced to give due respect to the display, and calmly put her hands up in accordance; Anything could be a formidable weapon if one were determined enough to make it work.
“I got ran off by the brat, and this has enough energy and low visibility on his radar.”
There wasn’t much need to lie.
Box Ghost seemed to assess this, floating around her in a circle path before shrugging.
“What, so, a day that ends in Y?” He asked, dropping the facade.
“It’s more… how I lost, than that I lost.” She offered carefully. She was in Box Ghost’s lair, and she knew that her welcome was thin to start with.
She suspected the look on Box’s face was more stink eye than proper appraisal.
“Look, I don’t want to fend you off. I’ll lose too many boxes doing that if you’re just… floating here. But I was hoping to have Lunch Lady over.” Box expressed, annoyed.
“As you desire.” She mocked, lifting towards the ceiling. This was not her territory to fight over, and she had so few offensive options if Box got a bright idea.
“Don’t even joke.” He groaned, going back to… categorizing boxes?
Not her Obsession, not her curiosity. She is out.
It still left her with a slightly cracked core and an angry teenager tearing his life to pieces to find the altered piece, looking for her all the while.
She was plenty capable of granting more wishes, at least. It would make her heal faster to do so.
Quiet, easy, mostly inane and stupid. Holding herself back from screwing people over too royally, lest the brat find her much too quickly.
It was easy and largely mind-numbing. He wanted money, she wanted the ‘stupid cunt’ to shut up, they as a collective wanted free-time to go camping.
A couple of twenties in the house to cover more groceries if noting else, all that took was a brief possession and staring more intently at the antagonistic woman's own computer, and it wasn’t hard to clear the troublesome one’s schedule.
Can’t have a schedule be blocked off if his abusive bitch of a girlfriend/fiance is dead in a car crash two hours from then.
She was forced to look at the pathetic mortals life for much too long. Truly, how does one get so insecure?
That was the highlight of her wish granting, honestly. It stopped her from going thinking about the child.
She had to tell him. She knew that. But she didn’t know how to do that.
But she didn’t want to think about it! Why go around making it her problem if she didn’t need to?
And now, an apartment in the bad side of town, obviously not meeting any sort of housing standard. There was a girl on the phone, sobbing away.
An easy mark to camp out, as she kept an ear to the rest of the apartment.
She was left to stew, again.
He was a brat that was owed more than he’d ever been given, and who hated her for perfectly good (and irrefutable) reasons.
She had to do more, too. But she didn’t know what yet.
Most people slightly sucked. Human nature and all that. Being a brat was hardly uncommon.
She also shouldn’t care that much.
But she did.
“I just wish he c-could give a real… I just-! He could be better! W-why isn’t he better??” She wailed.
Easy mark.
She had to conclude that it was another sad mark as the scene unfolded in her head.
Anyone could be better, but often there was nothing of meaning to salvage.
She was the other woman, strung along as he played both- no, all four women like cheap instruments.
Ew.
Of course his main girlfriend was suspicious too, and just as much of a cunt as he was. If she found out it wouldn’t be his ass on the line, it'd be the women.
And maybe, just maybe, that hit her where it hurt as she closed the wish by making him have his come-to-Jesus moment and resolve to dump all four and pack himself off to another state.
That might be her problem over all; She cared about those in bad spots. Tight situations that weren’t their fault.
She could see why the man would be called charming, even, having flipped through the pages of memory to figure out why this wish would occur.
And no child picked their parents.
Maybe she knew someone she could set up to watch him. That might be a better option.
Eight, six, four, two, zero. Never safe. Barely loved. If anyone had an ax to grind, he’d be helpless and left to dry in the cold in an instant.
She had to tell him, at least. Lunch Lady had truce with him, right? A message could be passed.
She hoped it could be seen as genuine.
She knew it wouldn’t be, but she had to anyways.
Thinking about Danny wishing to go back to a time where he wasn't constantly in danger, and Desiree not being able to find a time in his life that can fit the bill so just,,, nothing happens.
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thecoochiefairy · 2 months ago
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kill bill. toji fushiguro.
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𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 27.5K word count. toji! fushiguro! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, deflowering, angry sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, creampie, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, caring toji, lil bit of sweet toji, violence, grief, loss, family drama, mention of suguru getou, minors aren’t welcome!
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, you should know when i make a fic, that hoe definitely gon’ be long as fuck. so don’t scream at me, okay? let’s make this a lil early christmas gift to my babies. i think this my favorite fic i’ve written. i’ve chained myself to the bed to finish this. i loved this plot so much. so so much. omg y’all. please enjoy it. please. okay, i’ve said enough.
song while listening ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: for certain, partynextdoor.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: ….small note for name pronunciations within fic— nozomi (NO—ZO—ME) ami (AH—ME) isamu (EE—SAH—MOO).
PARTYNEXTDOOR FILLED THE SPEAKERS OF THE ROOM, R&B CRAWLING AMONGST THE WALLS. This is where she felt most at peace, her focus directly on her regular customer. 
“This is a new color for me, are you sure it’ll look nice?”
“Stop worrying, the color suits you beautifully. No black woman should ever turn away from brown hair,” she tells her, lessening the worry upon the customer's face. 
“Even at my age?” 
“Even at your gorgeous age, Ms. Bernice.” 
She adds the finishing touches, removing the curling iron as she sat it down on the table next to her. She spruces out the layered curls as she gives her a grin, “You’ ready to see?”
The woman who sat upon the chair nodded her head vigorously in excitement. She had been trying to convince Ms. Bernice to try a wig since she complained with her age that she was losing her hair. She offered to give her an age-appropriate bob, layered in between its curls. 
Her eyes gleamed as she turned in the chair to look in the mirror, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips as she inspected herself in disbelief, running her fingers through the silky soft hair, in complete shock that it was a wig. 
Her eyes sparkled in awe before turning back to her stylist, “It’s—It’s amazing! I look better now than I did with my real hair!”
“You looked just as beautiful before. I just enhanced your beauty,” she shakes her head, “It came out perfect.”
The woman laughed as she took out her wallet from her purse, “My husband’s going to flip when he sees this, you’re gonna get me in trouble!” 
Ms. Bernice then goes to pull out a fifty-dollar bill, this being her tip after already paying her in full as she says, “Thank you, Nozomi. You’ve really outdone yourself today.” 
Nozomi instantly takes the money, reaching around to put it back into her customers purse, “I told you to stop giving me those big ass tips, put some gas in your car or something. You know I’d do this for free if I didn’t have bills.”
The woman chuckled heartily as she pushed the money into Nozomi’s hand, making sure she took it, “Of course I know you’d do it for free, that’s exactly why I’m giving you a big tip! You don’t need the money, but you sure deserve it, you work so hard everyday, it’s the least I could do for you.”
She smiled as she then accepted the money, “Thank you. I really appreciate you.”
Ms. Bernice waves her hand, “Don’t start your sentimental stuff before I start crying. Anyways, can I book you again next week for a touch up? I have an event.” 
Nozomi sighs, “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll actually be out of town, my older sister’s getting married. I should be back a week after that.” 
“No worries—oh, a wedding, how beautiful. Congratulations to her. Where’s it gonna be?”
“It’s uh… actually a surprise to me. To the entire family, damn near. We won’t know until we get the invitations, but she gave us the dates and bought the tickets, so kinda sorta a free trip,” she briefly explains, “I’d never say no to that.”
“Ooh, a destination wedding, how exciting!” The woman clapped her hands together, “It’s like a mystery vacation,” Suddenly an idea popped into the her mind as she spoke, “Maybe it’s Vegas?”
Nozomi’s neck flung back, “God, I hope not. She might as well have Elvis be her damn officiant.”
Ms. Bernice chuckled as she spoke, “From the way you talk about her, she seems a little bougie. Probably Singapore or something.” 
“Now she knows our black ass family ain’t traveling to no damn Singapore,” Nozomi chuckled, “If that’s the case—pray for me. It’ll be a shit show.”
The woman laughed once more before nodding her head and standing up from the chair, grabbing her purse that rested on the counter on the opposite side of the room, “Maybe she’ll surprise you, send everyone off to Paris or something.” 
“The girl is bougie—never said she wasn’t a little frugal,” Nozomi replied as she walked her to the door.
“And that’s why you marry a rich man like your sister did,” Ms. Bernice finalizes. 
“That we can both agree on,” Nozomi chuckles, “See you next time, take a bunch of pictures for me!”
The woman gave a wave before walking out the door, “I will, I will! Bye bye now!” She shouted behind her. 
When she opens the door to let her out, Ms. Bernice stops herself from tripping as she nearly steps over an object along the ground. Nozomi looks down as she notices a pale pink box. 
She frowns, looking around the quiet outside before she hesitantly picks up the box, taking it inside her shop. Placing it along the counter, she pulls the silk white ribbon holding it together, opening the top as it looks to be cherry blossom petals within the box, scattering beneath the pink envelope, golden words trimmed atop of it. This was her sister's wedding invitation. 
She turns down the music within her shop as she absentmindedly begins to clean, other hand occupied as she reads the invitation. Then, her phone begins to ring. 
Ami. Just like clockwork. 
She holds the phone to her ear as she answers, continuing to read the invitation. The squeal on the other line was a usual greeting, something she was used to at this point. 
“Did you get it?”
Nozomi blinks at the envelope, “I did. Uh…Kyoto, Japan, Ami? Really?”
She could hear Ami giggling on the other line of the phone, her excitement evident, “Yes, really! Isn’t it perfect?” 
Nozomi continued to look at the envelope in hand, the pink cherry blossom petals filling out the box, “I…” she sighs, “It’s perfect. I love it.”
“No, no. Say what you need to say before you start holding in your anger and it turns into an even bigger thing.”
“I haven’t been to Japan in two years, Ami. Not since mom’s passing.”
She didn’t want to ruin the mood, knowing her sister wouldn’t let her comment make her upset. She just wanted to remind her. The mention of a place they once called home made something in her stomach turn, their mother being a fully black woman, their father being a full-blooded Japanese man. Their mom met him when traveling for school, and they fell in love immediately, raising their family there up until her sickness. They’d been back and forth between Kyoto and the states, but both of them were home to Nozomi. 
 They took traits from both parents. Ami looked more like their father, fair skinned, hair more pin-straight then anything, while Nozomi looked exactly like their mom, toffee skin, only having her fathers cheekbones, freckles and eyes. Every time she looked in the mirror, her heart ached.
“I know, I know…but,” Ami began to speak, her tone now more gentle than excited, “I just wanted to have the wedding somewhere special. Somewhere that’s special to us…”
Nozomi sighed once more, setting the invitation back amongst the cherry blossom petals. Her eyes traced over the golden writing, a small smile spreading across her lips, though her heart was still aching.
“I understand. Kyoto is an amazing place to have picked, mommy always loved it there. But it’s your man’s hometown too, huh? Did he have any say in this choice?”
She could hear her sister’s soft chuckle on the other line, her smile more than likely a soft one as she spoke, “Suguru thinks it’s a good idea, his family is already here, that’s less expenses on us. Although we still had to fly out our family, it was a smart choice.” 
There was a moment of silence before she could hear Ami speak once again, her tone holding a hint of concern, “Are you upset? I feel like you’re upset.”
Nozomi shakes her head, closing the top of the box as she says, “No, no. Not at all. I’m just…I didn’t think I’d be back there so soon. It’ll feel a little strange,” her smile is weak, trying to be lighthearted. Keyword—tried.
 She then asks, “Is uh…Is dad coming?”
Nozomi and her father’s relationship hadn’t been the best since her mother’s passing. After finding out he had been cheating on her while she was sick, Nozomi didn’t have anything to say to him. Ami kept in contact—that was enough for her.
A heavy silence fell on the other end of the line for a few moments, her sister’s voice finally breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.
“He is.” 
Nozomi could feel her heart begin to ache again, her smile disappearing. The topic of their father had always been a sore subject, though she knew it was better left alone. 
“Great,” she mutters, beginning to place the invitation politely back into the box, placing her other belongings in her purse as she was about to lock up her shop.
Her sister quickly replied on the other end of the line, holding a hint of panic, “Nozomi…don’t be like that. I know you have your feelings towards him, I get it. All I ask is that you at least try to be civil with him? For my wedding? I don’t want any drama.”
“I’d never do that to you, Ami,” she tells her, “Wanna go down your list of invites since you think I’m so barbaric?”
She could feel Ami rolling her eyes, “Don’t start your dramatics. Not when I’m about to tell you that I want you to be my maid of honor.” 
Nozomi halts, dropping her wallet into her purse as she glances out the window, “Me? Your maid of honor?”
A soft chuckle escaped her sister's lips, “Well duh, who else would it be? You’re my sissy-pooh. I’ve already got your dress, don’t worry, it’s not ugly. You’re excited, right? Please tell me you’re excited.”
Nozomi nods her head as if her sibling can see her, “Of course I’m excited. I just assumed that you would pick one of your friends.” 
“Oh, true. I mean, Kim will be there to help you—“
“Kim?” 
The entire conversation halts. It’s not that Nozomi was dramatic, however the name did bring an annoyance to her chest that she couldn’t shake. This was one of her sister's good friends, a friend of hers at one point—up until she slept with her man—the same man she was about to make things official with. It technically wasn’t cheating, but it was a fucked up gesture in her playbook.
“Yes, of course Kim is going to be there. I can’t not invite her to my wedding.”
“I’m aware,” Nozomi mutters more to herself, “But if you expect me to be butt-buddies wit ‘Kim-who-fucks-bitches-niggas’ Kim? Then it’ll be a cold day in hell, bridezilla. I’ll be cordial.” 
“Well you better keep that same energy when you see the man she fucked, cause Toji will be Suguru’s best man.” 
A pen could’ve dropped. 
The name echoed in her mind. She couldn’t lie to herself and say at one point she wasn’t endlessly in love with Toji. She had always been stubborn, not as emotional as her sister or willing to be in love the way Ami allowed herself to. But when the opportunity came with Toji, she made him work for it. He was just like her—stubborn, stern, aggressive—but he knew what he wanted, and that was her. He was the only person that could soften those walls, and just when she was ready to be committed to him, she found out that he hooked up with Kim, knowing that was also her friend, Kim also knowing that was her man. Both of them could go to hell.
Nozomi’s hand tightened around the phone, “Toji is his best man?”
Ami let out a breath as she spoke once more, her voice filled with reluctance, “I…yes. I know you both went through a rough patch—“ 
Nozomi could hear her sister’s voice soften even more, her voice taking a gentler tone, “I know things didn’t end well with you two, and I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want you to say some bullshit about not going to my wedding.”
“Girl, bye. I love your ugly ass too much not to show up at your wedding,” she tries to joke away her anxiety, “Just send me pictures of all the bridesmaids dresses so I can know how to do my hair.”
Her sister’s giggles came through the phone as her squeal calmed down, her giddiness evident in her voice, “I’m so excited. Oh my God, everything is falling together! I already picked out the flowers…this is gonna be so much fun! Kyoto! Kyoto!” 
Nozomi could hear her sister begin to ramble on about her wedding preparations, it was cute to see her so excited and in love. But the back of her mind filled with the endless possibilities of this being a disaster. Her technical ex was in one room, while her ex-friend was in the other. She didn’t know who to swing on first. But this was her sister's wedding. It would be a perfect day for her. 
….Or an extremely hot day in Nozomi’s personal hell.
                      ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
IT SEEMED LIKE THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS FLEW BY, and she was now arriving back in a place her parents called home at one point—Kyoto, Japan. The minute her feet landed in Osaka’s international airport, the crisp air made chills come down her spine. Memories of her mom rushed through mind like a collage, her smile, her laugh. Her throat went tight again. 
When she brought her focus back to finding her exit, a familiar face held up a sign that read, ‘NOZOMI—OMI.’ The nickname made her smile, pulling her suitcase as she ran up towards her older brother, Isamu, wrapping her arms around his neck as she crushed him into a hug. She wasn’t the affectionate type—but she also hadn't seen him since the funeral. She was the only sibling that now lived within the states, Ami staying in Kyoto with Suguru after the funeral, and Isamu living not too far from them. Nozomi needed the space and time to grieve. But maybe family was something she needed too. 
“Woah—hey, Omi’,” he clutched her, Nozomi digging her face into his shirt. Her eyes begin to well with tears, unable to stop herself as she squeezed him harder.
Her older brother wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him as he held her, his arms holding her around the waist as he squeezed her back. She couldn’t see it from having her face buried in his chest, but his face held a soft, sad smile. 
When he spoke, his deep voice was soft, “You’re squeezing me pretty hard, Omi’. You’ scared imma’ disappear if you let me go?”
“Maybe,” she muffled softly, squeezing the tightest she possibly could’ve, “Just—a little longer, please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
He was well aware of the emotions going through her mind. Not seeing any of her family in over two years was hard enough. But returning to their family’s hometown was even harder. 
She quickly wiped her eyes before actual tears could come, hearing his voice made her want to break down. Her and her older brother had always been close—she missed his comfort, especially with their sister too busy in her relationship.
“How are you?” She asks, “You’ been okay?”
“I’ve been good…keeping busy with work and everything that’s been happening around here.” 
There was a brief moment of silence between the two before he spoke again, his voice a little quieter than before, “And you?“
“I’m…good,” she lies, “I’ve just been working. The hair business is great, I’m just…excited to be back here and spend time with you and Ami. I didn’t expect her to want to do the wedding here, considering how hard she took mom’s passing.”
Isamu could tell she was lying, knowing her as well as he did. But he decided against saying anything about it, not wanting to push the topic. His mouth twisted into a small smile as he spoke, “I think it kind of brings her comfort. Being here and all. She says it makes her feel like a piece of mom is here with us.”
He placed a gentle hand against her shoulder, his eyes holding a sad look as he spoke, “How are you feeling about all this? About being here right now?”
That was the burning question. She could handle being here, but as far as speaking upon her mom—she wasn’t ready for that. 
She brushed off the urge to cry again, “It feels nice to be here in Kyoto. I feel at home. However, the rest of our family, Kim, Toji, and our father all in one room? Ami has lost her damn mind to think that would go over well. It’ll be one terrible ass Jerry Springer episode.”
“She’s definitely lost her damn mind,” He agreed, “She’s hellbent on it all being perfect and everyone playing nice.”
“Did you know Toji was the best man? Since when did him and ole’ boy become so close?” She questions, watching as he begins picking up her suitcase, following him out of the airport, “And don’t get to defending your little boyfriend either, I’m aware at how close y’all are,” she threatens, referring to him and Toji’s relationship.
As he loaded her luggage into the trunk of his car, he let out a gentle laugh as he closed the trunk and leaned against the back of it. 
His eyes rolled into his skull as he thought about how to reply, “Him and Suguru got cool overtime, I don’t know. They’ve known each other for a while. Ole boy got a name, dickhead. I’m not defending Toji. I could give you reasons to hate him, but I’m not going to feed into that.”
His eyes met hers, a sly look in his gaze as he spoke, “But you’re not exactly the angel that you think you are.”
“Wh—me?! The hell did I do?” 
He knew he triggered an extremely long ramble, trying to hold back his laugh as she got in the passengers seat, “I don’t fuck peoples men! That’s Kim’s slimy ass! And I’m not the one with the dick that fucked Kim! Toji’s a slimey-nasty-bitch too!”
A loud bark of laughter came from him as they were on their way to their old home, another place Nozomi wasn’t sure she could handle being at. He snickered quietly as they drove, “It’s called a joke, Omi’. Damn. Chill before you pop a blood vessel.”
He chuckled to himself again, “That was some fucked up shit though, not gon’ lie.”
“Not fucked up enough for you to still be cool with him, and definitely not fucked up enough for him to be Suguru’s best man,” Nozomi grumbled.
“I don’t expect you to play nice with him or Kim.”
“At least your expectations aren’t as high as our sisters. You should lower them to hell, considering I wanna rip Kim’s arm off her body and smack her around with it. Fuck that hoe.”
His voice held a hint of amusement, “You got a whole lot of pent up anger and aggression going on in that frame. You might wanna calm down and get that checked out.”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” she grumbled, leaning herself more into the window.
As they continued to drive, she got a good look of the city. It looked as if it never changed. The trees were still healthily green, buildings still posh, everything was always so put together. This was home for her father as well, it made her wonder where he was, but the thought of speaking to him came back to mind. She didn’t want to talk.
Isamu could see her looking out the window in her silent behavior. Even as a child, she didn’t talk as much. 
They soon pulled up to the familiar home, Isamu turning the car off before looking over to her, his voice soft as he spoke, “You ready?”
She didn’t look at him as she sighed, “I have to be.” 
When she stepped out of the car, she looked over the childhood home. A shock came to her face as it seemed to be entirely re-modeled, yet still the same. Dark brown wood on the rooftop of the white house, caramel timber holding the walls all together. Lanterns were all around, glowing the building in a beautiful sight. An aura felt carried around it, almost as if she were here.
Nozomi looked back to her brother as her eyes narrowed, “When did y’all uh…remodel the house?”
He walked alongside her towards the front door, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket as he replied, “Ami started getting it done. A wedding gift to herself, I guess.”
She nods her head, still looking up, keeping her eyes along the trees that hunched over the home. She then hears her brother ask, “You don’t like it?”
She shakes her head, “Nah, it’s perfect. Mom always wanted this place remodeled, dad always griped about wanting a traditional home. She would’ve loved it.”
He chuckled under his breath, the sound a little sad, “Yeah…she always wanted all the fancy things. She would’ve loved this home. Dad’s probably somewhere complaining about it as we speak.” 
Their father was old school, and wanted to maintain the traditional things that Japan had to offer.
“But who gives a fuck about his opinions,” she adds on beneath her breath.
Her attention was pulled as she heard a squeal coming from the top of the stairs. The house looked small on the outside, but on the inside it held about seven bedrooms, perfectly accompanied for a big family that was always usually within the house. The furniture was still pretty small, most of it low to the ground, similar to the beds within the bedrooms, more large, still being covered by Shoji screens, thankful that each room had space enough to muffle the sound next to the other. She was sorry for the room closest to the newlyweds.
When her attention came back, she was nearly tackled as Ami wrapped her arms around Nozomi’s neck, wrapping her legs around her as well as she locked her into a hug. Nozomi couldn’t help but laugh softly, holding her tightly as she said, “Hey, beautiful. I missed you.” 
She could feel her top beginning to dampen, a small laugh falling from her lips again as she said, “Ami, why are you crying?”
Ami’s voice was soft and shaky as she attempted to speak through her tears, “I missed you too. So much, it’s just—“ Her voice broke off into a sob as she buried her face in Nozomi’s neck, her small hands gripping tighter to her sister as she continued to sob in her arms.
“I’m here,” she sighed, pulling her closer, “I missed you more. Please stop crying, this is the shit we’re supposed to be doing on your wedding day.”
“I know. I know, I’m…I’m okay. I swear, I’m just…glad you’re here, Omi’.” 
“Is she crying again?” 
A voice came down the stairs, appearing to be Ami's fiancè. He was just as handsome as Nozomi remembered him, long dark hair pulled out of his face, black sweatshirt, muscles bulging through the top, a tattoo coursing along his arm. 
Nozomi said, “Yes, she is.”
“Babydoll, don’t cry,” he tells her sister, coming from behind and rubbing her shoulder.
Ami turned towards her fiancé, her eyes still watery from crying. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body, her face flushed a soft shade of pink as she smiled. 
Isamu clarified, “She’s fine. Just emotional.”
“Remember when you cried every-time it rained outside, because you thought God was sad at you for behaving badly at school? Yeah, shut up,” Ami insults their brother, both of them putting their middle fingers up to each other. 
Nozomi says to Suguru, “It’s good to see you. Are you happy about the wedding being in your hometown? Is your family excited?”
The soon-to-be husband chuckled quietly as he spoke, his arms still wrapped around Ami as he said, “Everyone’s excited as hell. I can’t wait to make her my wife.”
Nozomi nods her head with a smile. He was sweet. Another question comes to mind as they hear a pair of feet circling the corner from where the office was, a familiar face appearing in the kitchen. Here she was, the infamous Kim. 
Her olive toned skin was always perfect, her dark brown hair up in a sleek ponytail. Her outfits were always classy and expensive. She was a beautiful woman, Nozomi could admit that. She just wished that beauty ran deeper than the skin surface.
Kim’s eyes flicked to everyone in the room, before they landed on Nozomi. A sly smile spread across her lips as she crossed the room, her voice sickeningly sweet as she spoke, “Well…if it isn’t little Omi’.”
“Hey, Kim,” Nozomi gives her a wave, wanting to say nothing else after that. 
Ami then budges in, “That’s it, ‘Hey, Kim?’ You can do better than that.” 
Nozomi raises an eyebrow, “You’ want us to start scissoring or something?”
“Jesus!” Ami smacks her arm, her fiancè and brother laughing at her younger sister's mouth. 
Kim then shrugs, “It’s fine. It’s nice to see you. It’s been so long,” Kim gives her a scan of her entire body, “It seems nothing has changed.“
That comment has Nozomi narrow her eyes, and it seems as if the whole room is holding their breath. She could admit, her and Kim were completely different, and that might’ve tied into more of her insecurities when the man she thought was attracted to her, went after her friend behind her back.
….Did Kim seem more calm? Eloquent? Classy? Knew when to shut up? What was it? 
Even if Kim was better in some aspects, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get the shit smacked out of her. Before Nozomi could dig into her ass, a pair of footsteps interrupt her foul insults, and when her eyes lock on the dark boots that stomp down each step, her throat nearly goes numb.
Each stomp of the boots was like the ticking of a clock, time slowing as she took in the figure standing on the stairs. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach, her mouth going dry as her lips parted but no words came out. Isamu and Ami both looked at her, noting her reaction. 
Toji’s tall frame came down the steps, his expression as cold and apathetic as usual, not that it was abnormal. The man had always been so stoic, to the point that it felt as if there was no life behind his eyes. Or, as Ami had stated a million times before, “That man isn’t a person, he’s a block of ice.” 
The more he matured, the finer he got. They weren’t much different in age, him and her siblings being thirty while she was only twenty-seven, but that came with a price. She was always blamed for not being as participant or even being a hot head, and as soon as she crashed out, her age was the first reason for explanation. But Toji never saw her that way. At least, that’s how he made her feel. 
The dark shirt he wore clung to his broad frame, contrasting the Japanese words that swirled along his arm, creating an entire sleeve that went up to his shoulder, dancing up to the side of his neck, disappearing behind his ear and clothing. His onyx hair and eyebrows, always low each time he entered a room. He was scary, sexy, tempting. Damn him. 
“Took you long enough,” Suguru said to him, “‘Fuck were you doing up there, powdering your nose?”
The tall man huffs in amusement as he responds, his voice deep and smooth, “I had to make an important phone call, you annoying bastard.” 
His friend gives him a smirk, as if mocking his words, “Who were you calling?” 
Toji rolls his eyes as he replies, “None of your fuckin’ business.”
“Omi’s here!” Ami interrupted, almost as if it was something to panic over. 
The entire room locked eyes with her, as if waiting for some type of reaction. They didn’t know what to expect. It annoyed her. When his eyes locked on her, she felt like she wanted to melt into the ground. One thing he could expect from her— she was different from her siblings. She stood in a white baby tee, star shaped nipple piercings poking through the top. Her green cargo pants were slightly baggy, hair in individual braids, poking in between  wavy human hair. 
They’re bohemian goddess braids, jackass. Look it up, he remembers her telling him. 
Her glasses laid upon her freckled face, almost looking similar to an office siren, nose ring shining beneath the lights of the kitchen. Small tattoos roamed her frame, large hips never discreet in any clothing she wore. She was fucking gorgeous.
His eyes took her entire body in, her usual appearance making his eyes narrow faintly. It made the scar on his lip twitch. She looked good, too good. Her brown skin was always just as smooth, her body just as curvy and attractive as always. 
“Yeah,” he scans her up and down, “She is.”
Nozomi has the sudden urge to choke him. 
Her attitude comes first as she completely bypasses him, looking at her sister as she says, “Show me to my room?”
The air suddenly tensed as she avoided him like the plague, his eyes narrowing further at her behavior. Ami noticed it as well, and she quickly nodded. 
“Uh, yeah…follow me.” 
She gave her fiancé a kiss on the cheek before she began walking up the stairs, gesturing for Nozomi to follow her.
“Who else is gonna be staying here?” Nozomi asks, yet she gets no response. She felt a mood shift within her sister, and she knew a lecture was about to come. Once they make it in front of her door, Ami turns to her and quietly whispers, “Why did you do that?!” 
Nozomi tilts her head, “Do what?”
Ami looks at her as if it’s obvious, her tone laced with confusion as she whispers back, “Ignore Toji!” 
She glances down the hall to make sure no one can hear them as she continues to speak in a quiet tone, “You acted like he wasn’t even there!”
“You didn’t tell me he was gonna be here, Ami. Don’t act like you didn’t purposely do that,” Nozomi replies, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ami lets out a long sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she rolls her eyes, “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re both adults. I know you’re mad at him, but you can’t act like he doesn’t exist the entire weekend.”
“I actually can!” She exclaims back in a whisper, “He can fuck Kim in every Kama Sutra position known to man. I wouldn’t give a fuck if he stood there in a clown costume! I still wouldn’t have spoken.” 
“Are you done?” Ami blinks. 
Nozomi then pulls back with a sigh, realizing how she’s being. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should just get a hotel. I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” 
Ami shakes her head as she replies, “You’re not getting a hotel. Just…can you please try to speak to Toji? Like…be mature about it? You didn’t work out, sure. That’s okay!”
Nozomi blinks, “It’s okay? It’s okay that I was practically in love with the bastard, was gonna let him break me out of my abstinence? Take my virginity? Then to find out he fucked Kim because what— her pussy was free? Fuck him!” 
Ami squints, “You’re still a virgin?”
“Ami!”
Ami looks surprised for a moment before her face becomes neutral again, her voice lowering, “Really? You and Toji never…?” 
She pauses for a moment, as if realizing something else after asking that question. Her eyes widen as she speaks, her tone now in a low whisper, “How? You literally told me you had sex before? Did you lie? Why would you lie to me?!”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a weirdo or something, you were all experienced and shit, sex was scary to me! Still is! And you think imma’ let that gorilla take my banana when he’s giving his for free?”
“You don’t have a banana,” Ami reminds. 
“You get my analogy, though. My point still stands, fuck him.”
Ami groans faintly, raising her hands up to rub her temples to calm her growing headache. She sighs as she speaks, “I know, I know…but I need you to be mature about it for one weekend. Please?!” 
“I will respectfully ignore him, unless you want me to be so sweet that I slice his throat in his sleep. And that’s being charitable.”
Ami looks horrified for a moment at her response, her eyes wide as she replies, “No! You will not do that! My wedding does not include any cutting of throats!”
Nozomi stands there with her arms crossed, similar to a child before she huffs, “Fine.” 
“Good! Now go change and get washed up. Matter of fact, you’ll be in the kitchen. With Toji. Helping him cook. Goodbye!”
Nozomi’s eyes go wide, “Ami!—“
Her sister makes an incredulous noise, silencing her before she walks away. She wants to throw a tantrum. Fuck.
After showering, she was now fully dressed in a gray long sleeve that hugged her upper body, matching sweats and her house slippers that wouldn’t ache her feet like her regular shoes did. Her braids were held up by a claw clip, no makeup residual on her face as she pressed her glasses up along her nose. She’d put in her contacts eventually. She was hoping that she would enter the kitchen first, but as she saw Toji standing there in a black wife beater and sweats, silver jewelry clinking along his wrist, she held her breath. She held back the roll in her eyes as she scanned the countertop to see all the prepped food, not knowing where to start. Maybe this was the time to speak. 
Thankfully, she can hear his deep, gruff voice as she seems to be on the phone, speaking in Japanese. She understood most of it, but she didn’t care enough to listen to what he had to say. She took that as her opportunity to scan over the small box in the middle of the island, holding what looked to be the recipe for dinner tonight.
Toji’s eyes were on her the moment she entered the room, watching her movements as she took her time scanning the countertop, analyzing the ingredients and prepped food in front of her. He could admit, she looked as attractive as she did the first day he met her. Her skin was still smooth, hair braided up, tattoos exposed for him to admire beneath the gray clothing she adorned. Her glasses perched on her nose, making her look naturally sexy. Damn her.
She frowns down at the recipes, realizing how familiar they sound. She takes this moment to finally speak to him, never looking up from the counter as she asks, “Did Ami give these to you?”
He was surprised she'd actually spoken, even if it was to acknowledge the recipe, and not him. His eyes scanned her, noting the way her body looked in her current clothing, and how she was still somehow just as attractive in something as simple as sweats.
“Yeah, she did.”
“I’m assuming she has you cooking everything this weekend,” she comments, eyes glancing up at him.
Toji lets out a huff, and his deep voice responds to her question, “Not everything, but I am cooking.” 
He returns her stare, gray eyes scanning her face. He could tell she was bothered just by being in the room with him, but she was holding up. 
“So what did you need help with, then?” She questions, “It looks like you have everything under control.”
Something in him became immensely irritated at how she was being. He knew that she was still upset with him, but for the sake of her sister's wedding, he hoped she would put her feelings to the side. Clearly not. 
“I’m good. You can go,” he tells her, sharpness in his tone. 
She turns to leave the kitchen, and when he sees that she’s actually leaving, he becomes pissed off. 
“You’re gonna do this bullshit all weekend?”
Nozomi halts, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. She replies, “Call it what you want, Fushiguro.”
“What, you don’t call me Toji anymore?” He snips, a sharp tongue being one of their similarities when they annoyed each other.
“Is that what you want?” 
“I want you to stop acting like a fuckin’ child.”
That makes both her eyebrows raise as she replies with an amused huff, “Huh. A child. Well how about I get back to my playground? Kim can come assist you.”
“Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat. Don’t act like you don’t feel something from seeing me.”
“Do you think you’re a prize? What did you think? That I was gonna be happy to see you? Jump for joy? Fuck you on this countertop? Don’t be fucking stupid. Do you need help in the kitchen or not? Cause that’s really all that needs to be said between us. I was doing my sister a favor by coming in here,” she snaps, anger seeping through her that she hadn’t felt in years.
“Don’t be a smart ass. I know that you’re pissed. I get that. But the weekend has barely started, and it’s already irritating dealing with your childish bullshit.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone, Fushiguro! I was fine before you said anything to me. I’m not gonna ruin my sister's wedding by bringing my own issues with you into that. I was fine before, I will be fine.” 
When she goes to turn, she feels him lock his hand around her wrist, her other hand close enough to the kitchen counter as she warns, “My hand is seconds away from a knife. Let go of me.”
For a split moment, he wonders if she’d actually stab him. She might. He decides to test that thought and refuses to listen to her, not letting go of her wrist.
“Maybe that’ll show me that you actually give a fuck to have a conversation,” he sharply replies.
“I don’t,” she promises. 
Damn, this woman. When he goes to pull her closer, the door to the kitchen swings open, the familiar ponytail appearing that almost makes Nozomi actually want to go for the knife on the counter. Kim. If she swung forward enough, she’d slice both of them.
The sight of Kim was both a good and bad thing. It was good because the brunette would act as a buffer between the two. It was bad because it would stop him from talking to Nozomi alone, since he was unable to do so outside of the kitchen. 
Kim asks, “You guys need help? Ami told me to come assist.”
“Of course she did,” Nozomi replies, her tongue on fire, “You got it. He seems to prefer you anyway.” 
She finally snatches herself away from him, making her way out of the kitchen without saying anything else. She barely acknowledges Kim, wanting to spit on her from how pissed she was. Fuck both of them.
Toji is almost tempted to grab her wrist again and snatch her back. His eyes watch her storm out in anger, and he turns his glare to Kim, who has no idea what the hell was going on. 
She looks to Toji, blowing out a breath as she mutters, “Drama Queen,” before shaking her head, “C’mon, I’ll help you finish. I’m starving.”
Nozomi was so upset that she was shaking. She didn’t think that she would care that much about seeing him or even speaking to him, but as soon as they went back and forth, all her feelings came erupting like vomit, and she didn’t know how to deal with them. She might’ve actually hurt him had she stayed in the kitchen. When she went back into her room, she kicked her shoes off, laying within the bed as she pressed her face into the sheets. She could feel her hot tears brimming into the comforter, wishing she wouldn’t cry when she was pissed off. 
She feels as if she’s laying there for an eternity. But as she hears her door slide open, she knows it’s her older sister. 
She mutters, “Not now, Ami. Please.”
She quietly closes the door behind her and makes her way to Nozomi, lowering onto the mattress as she sits down beside her. Ami gently places a hand on her back as she speaks, her tone soft, “You alright?”
It’s like the question had something almost shatter inside of her. She wraps her arms around the pillow in front of her, digging her face into it as she cries softly, “I fucking hate him.”
“You don’t hate him.”
“I know,” she replied, voice trembling. She didn’t hate him. In fact, seeing him again, she missed him so much. Everything hit her, her doubts, her insecurities. It all stood in between him and her sister's friend. 
“I feel so stupid. I’m stupid,”  she repeats, “Crying over a nigga that dropped me because I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.” 
“That’s not what it was about, Omi’,” her sister tries to counter.
Nozomi then sits up, “Then what was it, Ami? I know it’s because she’s prettier, thinner, smarter. More money. I just—“ 
She takes in a breath, trying to wipe her red face, “I just wish it didn’t hurt that bad. That she didn’t make me feel worse about it.”
Ami’s heart hurt as her sister voiced the thoughts that had been tormenting her. The insecurities and the pain that Toji had caused. Her sister had spent two years tormenting herself as if it was her fault.  
Ami gently takes her hand to squeeze, her eyes meeting with hers firmly, “You are so so stupid if you think that’s the only reason he fell for you. You’re beautiful and intelligent and talented. He didn’t break up with you because someone was better than you. And she’s not that.” 
“Then what?” Her glossy eyes glance up at her, “How am I supposed to feel when she’s here? Being with him?”
“Toji is a man, and men are idiots. That’s the only explanation for that. Look, Kim is just here as a friend for me. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you upset, it was wrong what she did. I can talk to her, make sure she doesn’t make you uncomfortable. But I need you to focus on yourself. Focus on the wedding. This weekend is a celebration, alright? I don’t want you making yourself feel shitty for that idiot.”
Nozomi sighs, finally feeling herself calm down. She was right. This was one weekend and she’d never have to see him again. It was gonna be a struggle, but she was tough. She wipes her eyes as she exhales, “You don’t need to talk to her. I’m fine. Kim is always gonna be Kim. The bitch has artistic intelligence, so I know she’s making your wedding a fairytale. I want that for you. I’ll be fine. As far as Toji, I’ll…I’m okay,” she finalizes, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”
Ami shakes her head gently, a kind smile on her face as she replies, “You could never ruin my night. I’d smack you if you did. I’m happy you’re here, it means the world to me.”
She gently reaches out to give Nozomi’s shoulder a light squeeze as she adds, “Just try to enjoy yourself, alright? You don’t have to talk to Toji, but you don’t have to be rude either. I don’t want you two arguing all weekend. I’m gonna go get dinner. I can bring you a plate up?”
Nozomi shakes her head, “I’ll come eat with everyone. Just need to clean my face up. Go enjoy your food.” 
She hesitates, wrapping her arms around her sister's neck as she mutters, “Love you.”
Ami’s heart warms when she hugs her. She returns the embrace, smiling gently as she responds, “I love you too. Always.” 
When she makes it downstairs, everyone is around the table, seated along the floor as they eat and talk amongst each other. She fell back into her solitude, grateful that no one questioned her silence. She’d give a brief glance at Toji when he wasn’t looking, watching as he spoke to his best friend, laughed, joked, a bit of normalcy that she couldn’t help but miss about him. She might’ve been stubborn, but she refused to get hurt again. She also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they used her mother’s recipes to cook the food, an entirely different reason why she felt so down. She wouldn’t have allowed her to cry over Toji. She would’ve called him a bastard and laughed in his face.
Toji feels her eyes on him. 
Throughout the night, he finds himself occasionally stealing glances in her direction. He can’t help it, she’s right there and it’s driving him mad. She’s still so damn beautiful.
As everyone makes small talk, and Kim tells a joke to crack some laughs, Toji’s eyes remain fixated on Nozomi. Her expression remains neutral, but he can see that she’s faking a calm composure. He wished she had giggled at his jokes the way she used to, he just wanted to feel something different from her. He missed that normalcy as well.
Nozomi barely touched her food, feeling her stomach growling as she made it back to bed that night. She couldn’t sleep. If it wasn’t her thoughts running amuck, it was definitely the unfortunate muffled sounds of her sister and her fiancè…enjoying their time together. 
She stands from the bed as she slides her door open, hoping her ears would fall off as she passes by their room, making her way towards the kitchen. She passes Kim’s room as well, and when she hears that Kim also seems to be enjoying herself, accompanied by a sound of masculine grunting, she can feel her palms shaking. 
“That fucking bastard,” she mutters. 
That ruins her entire appetite. Instead of her midnight snack, it sends her right back to bed. As she goes back to her door, she notices an object on the ground. She frowns beneath the darkness, leaning down as she sees an orchid laid along the wood. She sighs, knowing her brother had probably placed it there, a habit he had with both of his sisters if he was apologetic, trying to make them feel better. She appreciated it. She took the flower in her room and closed the door, attempting to get some sleep for the rest of the night. 
When the next morning came, she was greeted downstairs by everyone. Her sister was wrapped under her fiancè’s arms as she held a coffee mug close to her face, giggling as he talked within her ear.
Kim was in the kitchen making herself tea, talking to Nozomi’s brother, while Toji was engrossed within his phone, silent in an unusual manner. 
She rubbed her eyes as she tiredly greeted everyone, “Morning.”
Everyone replied with their own greeting, smiles and kind words exchanged between the group. Well, except for Toji, who was uncharacteristically silent.
He slowly looked up, his eyes locked on her as a pang of irritation spiked through him. She was wearing a tank top paired with tight boy shorts. Toji couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her skin was on display, or the way her shorts hugged her hips. He was forced to look away, his jaw tense as he silently stared out the window instead.
“How’d you sleep?” Ami asks, “Want me to make you some tea?”
Nozomi shakes her head, “Slept okay. On account of you two love birds, y’all make me absolutely sick.”
“Nah, for real. Imma’ have to bleach my ears,” her brother pipes in, both older siblings once again throwing middle fingers to each other. 
“Oh, fuck off. This is my weekend! And this is my man, my man, my man!” 
Everyone laughs her off, knowing how in love she was with her fiancè. They couldn’t admit it, but it was adorable. 
Ami takes a sip of her tea as she says, “So, what’s on everyone’s agenda before the rehearsal dinner tonight?”
“I’m gonna head to the restaurant that’s catering the wedding, make sure your menus are just the way you wanted them and the food is perfect, beautiful bride,” Kim tells her, nudging her friend's leg with a smile. 
Nozomi figured that as the maid of honor these things would be her job, but if Kim wanted to kiss her sister's ass, she wasn’t going to stop her. 
“Imma’ go with her, it’ll give me a chance to get out of the house,” Isamu adds. 
“Great. We’ll be checking out the venue one more time, making sure they decorated it just how I imagined it—and from all the pictures I framed off Pinterest. If not, I will be going bridezilla on they ass. Anyways, my crew, rolling out!” 
As everyone disperses from the seating area, Nozomi notices as Toji is still there, interest deep within his phone. At least, pretending to be. She can’t read him. However, she can stare at him. The way he looks within this onyx wife-beater, she could lick him. The ink on his skin swirls along his arm, broad frame nearly wanting to break the small chair he sits in. 
Her attention is pulled away when she hears him ask, “You’ going out today?”
She blinks, “Huh?” 
Toji didn’t miss anything. He saw her staring from his peripheral, watching the way her eyes had roamed all along him. 
His eyes were locked on her now as he repeated, “I asked if you were going out today.”
“Oh, uh—“ she thinks about it, hearing her stomach deeply grumbling. She realized she hadn't had a full meal since she got on the flight to Japan. 
“Yeah—Imma’ head to this little restaurant my mom used to take us to,” she briefly replies, proud of herself for being cordial enough, especially after last night. At this point, she didn’t give a fuck about what he had going on. 
“Oishii?” he asks. 
She narrows her eyes a bit, “Yeah. How’d you know?” 
“Isamu mentioned it. I told him that place burnt down a couple months after your mom passed.”
“What?” She exclaims, “What the hell? Fuck, who was gonna tell me? That was the only place I really enjoyed.”
Toji can’t help but smirk at the surprise she expressed. He replies, “Been closed up for a while now,” with a shrug, “Damn shame. It was good.” 
He leans back, Nozomi knocking her eyes down as he spreads his knees, seated in a position he usually relaxed in if he wanted her to sit on his lap. It made her throat dry. 
“There’s other places to choose from. I know one. I’ll take you there.” 
She shakes her head, “That’s not necessary—“
“Get dressed.” 
His word was his bond, it always made her clutch her lips together. He was already standing, already walking away. He was never asking. With that, she pressed her lips together, a small groan falling from her mouth as she made her way back to her bedroom to put on some clothes.
He sat within his room for a while as he waited for her, knowing she would be a minute as she did her full routine. It annoyed him that he remembered that. 
He eventually stood across the door from her room, knowing she’d be out soon. When she opened it, she flew past him to get a look at herself in the full body mirror down the hall. She adjusted the tightly fitted yellow sundress she wore, a matching headband that pulled her braids out of her face, edges perfectly sculpted. She wore her contacts today, able to see the eyes that she carried from her father. She looked more stunning each time he saw her. 
She looked up to him as she pulled her white sandals on her feet, going back into the room for her purse as her soft voice asked, “Ready?”
Toji could have eaten her in this outfit, watching as she walked past him, catching her body in the mirror as she turned. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, showing off each and every bit of her he ached to touch. 
He nods in response, his voice low as he replies, “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t as cold as it usually was in Kyoto, the weather perfect for a wedding. She enjoyed being able to walk rather than drive everywhere, needing a car back in the states. Their walk was quiet, Nozomi enjoying the trees, nature, the colorful buildings. She walks beside him for a while, watching as the cars bustle on the street beside her. 
“Uh…do you know where we’re going?” She questions him, looking to the side of herself.
Toji’s own gaze was also fixated, watching her from the corner of his eye, studying the small habits he missed, the way she observed her surroundings so intently. The way her ass looked in this dress. His hands remained in his pockets, her question earning a glance as he looked down at her.
“You askin’ if I’m taking you to some secluded area where I’m gonna’ chop you up or something?” 
His voice is low in humor, a smirk on his lips as he continues to guide her. “Be patient.”
She sighs, crossing her arms behind herself as she holds her purse in her hand, “I don’t like surprises.”
“I know that, Nozomi.” 
“I would hope the food at this place is good, my mom was picky, so it makes me picky. What if it’s nasty? I’m hungry. I’ll be sad if it’s gross,” she banters.
“You’re whining a lot today, I see.” 
“I’m just curious,” she shrugs, “Fine. I’ll shut up.” 
Toji’s eyes narrow as he notices the way cars fly past as she continues on the sidewalk, something in him annoyed with how quickly they drive by. 
“Don’t. Keep talking to me,” he says, his movement swift as he grips her by her hip, gently pulling her on the inside of the sidewalk as he now walks where the cars pass, “You’ still working on your Japanese?” 
The movement was so quick that the chill down her spine was even quicker, her entire body tingling at his rough touch. 
She nearly loses focus of his question as she swallows, “Um—still pretty shit at it, actually.”
“You’re not trying enough,” his tone low, “‘Can’t speak the language but you’ve lived here. You are Japanese.” 
“Half,” she reminds, “My dad always said that I didn’t ‘look the part’ anyways. Ami always fit for him, her Japanese is award worthy.”
“I’m not talking about looks,” he mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m talking about heritage. You’re still half, that means something. Your father should have been proud to know you speak his language. It’s annoying hearing you struggle.”
“Then how about you teach me, Mr. I know Everything? I understand you perfectly fine! That should count for something,” she begins to walk a little faster, hips twisting as she becomes slightly agitated with him.
Toji follows after her, his own stride matching as he easily keeps up. He scoffs, shaking his head at her words as he replies, “You don’t understand half the shit I tell you. You’ make this face when you’re confused, it’s cute.”
“Whatever,” Nozomi mutters, now actually irritated.
 As they continue to walk, she notices a small boutique, the dark purple font on the sign above bringing her instant nostalgia. She gasps, “Oh my god, this is the boutique my mom used to take me and Ami too! I can’t believe it’s still here…” 
She can’t help it, but she’s already pulling on the door handle, making her way inside in full curiosity.
Upon entering, she’s met with various traditional kimonos and dresses, a familiar scent filling her senses. Toji is immediately behind her, observing the entire shop as she takes it in. He can already tell that the nostalgia is overwhelming, watching as she walks around the place, her hands gently touching some of the dresses.
She looks along the wall of the shop, seeing all the Sanrio theme plushies and characters, blossoming different colors within her eyes. She felt like a child all over again. She nearly gives herself an asthma attack when she sees a particular plushie—she thought she was gonna faint. 
“Holy shit,” she mutters, pointing upwards, “You see that one? This is a Hello Kitty collectible,” she describes. His eyes follow up to what looks to be a toffee complexioned Hello Kitty, wearing a pink and red Kimono, a matching pink flower within its head. It was the biggest one of all, nearly as big as Nozomi’s entire body. 
“I literally cried all day because my mom wouldn’t buy it for me. She refused because Ami wanted one that looked like her, and because they didn’t have a collectible in her skin tone, my mom didn’t want her to feel left out. So neither of us got anything. The fact that it’s still here is insane.” 
She comes close to it, trying to squint at the price tag on its side as she mutters, “Wonder how much it is…”
“Wanna ask?” Toji questions. 
She turns with a frown, “I can ask, thank you.” 
She surprises him a bit as her tone changes, inquiring the price of the plushie as she asks within his native tongue. He couldn’t understand what she meant when she said her Japanese was shit, she sounded incredibly normal to him. Sexy, even. He wanted to hear her speak it again. 
She blinks as the woman responds, looking to Toji as she repeats back in English, “Thirty-Eight thousand yen? What is that in American dollars?”
“Shit is like three hundred dollars,” Toji replies back to her, watching as her jaw nearly drops.
“Oh hell, I don’t want it that bad,” she sighs, “Ugh. It’s so cute. My pockets will cry. Oh well.” 
She says thank you to the woman, “Let me look at these dresses for a second, then we can go,” her shoulders are a bit more slump as she searches the rest of the store, almost feeling defeated. 
As she continued to look around, her attention was along a dark brown Kimono, a pair of colors she’d never seen before. She doesn’t hear Toji speak to the woman, pointing towards the wall of plushies. She only ever realizes what he’s doing when the woman pulls down the large collectible she wanted, bringing it to the register. 
“What are you doing?” She questions from the other side of the store, nearly tripping as she makes her way back to him.
Toji can tell by her expression that she had completely given up on the possibility of leaving with that stupid doll. It was endearing, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. 
“Buying this stupid ass doll.”
He begins reaching for his wallet, pulling the wad of cash out as her eyes widen, placing her hand over his to stop him as she awkwardly speaks towards the woman, telling her not to worry about it, “No, you are not buying me that.”
Toji glances over at her as she speaks, smacking his lips at her. The woman behind the cash register pauses for a moment, looking between the two of them. 
“Didn’t you just want this shit two seconds ago?” 
Nozomi’s eyebrows furrow, “Yes—“
“So shut up.” 
When she goes to protest, the look he gives her makes her hands halt, pressing her lips together as she puts her hands behind her back. 
The older lady giggles, Nozomi understanding her as she asks if she wants a gift bag. Toji shakes his head, “She’ll hold it.” 
When he looks back to see her still standing with a perplexed expression, still shocked that he even bought it, he snaps her out of her trance as he says, “Take the damn doll from her before I choke you with it.” 
She smacks her lips now, politely thanking the woman as she has to wrap both arms around the plushie, it being a little heavy. She doesn’t know how to feel, but as he grumpily waits for the receipt, a small smile comes to her face.
When they make it to the restaurant, the lights on the streets begin to come on, the buildings and billboards bright to her eyes. She missed this feeling, almost like a child feeling Christmas air. Her plushie sits beside her in its own individual chair, Toji sitting across from her as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, swiftly igniting it as they wait for someone to take their order. Nozomi looks down at the menu, not sure where to take the conversation. 
They’d been getting along, it was no harm in that. She couldn’t be a bitch after he spent three-hundred dollars on something she’d always wanted. 
She exhales as she looks around the crowded restaurant, looking back to him as she begins, “So…do you still live in the states, or did you move back here?”
Toji’s dark eyes remained on her while she looked around at the restaurant, his gaze always observant. He noticed how her eyes seemed to brighten at the view outside, how her mood completely changed after getting her silly doll. 
He takes a puff of his cigarette before replying, “Moved back home. Got sick of it.” 
“Sick of it? I thought you liked New York. I thought you enjoyed being a body-guard, kicking people's asses and getting paid for it,” she mentions, giving a polite smile to the man that hands her the drink she ordered.
Toji’s eyes follow her polite smile before watching her take a sip, replying as he rests an arm lazily along the back of the booth. 
“I did enjoy it. I just don’t like the people out there. New Yorkers are a pain in the ass,” he scoffs before puffing his cigarette again, continuing, “Why do it there when I can kick people's asses here and still get paid for it?”
That makes a small laugh come from her, something he hadn’t heard in a long time. She crosses her leg, leaning back within the seat as she questions, “When did you and Suguru become so close?” 
Toji’s eyes watch her body shift, taking another pull from his cigarette as her question registers in his head. 
“I’ve known the bastard since high school, but we got closer once I moved back. I thought it was funny he fell in love with your other half,” he pauses, looking at her with a smirk, “He’s a big ass softie now. Whipped, even.”
That makes her eyebrow raise, “So your perception of someone in love is being whipped, huh? Makes sense.”
Toji narrows his eyes at her snarky response, taking a moment to reply, “You’ still need me to choke you with your friend over there? I hope she isn’t ordering too, I’m good on money, but that’s pushing it.” 
She rolls her eyes as he adds with a serious tone, “And I didn’t say that. A man should respect his woman, I’ve just never seen him this way.”
“Well I think it’s adorable. Love should be all mushy and gross, that’s how you know it’s genuine. Makes me wonder what I’m doing wrong,” she admits, swirling her straw around in her cup, “I’m really happy for her.”
Toji’s expression doesn’t change as she responds, his cigarette hanging idly between his lips as his arm is still resting along the booth. 
He looks at her, really looks at her, a thought coming to his mind as he suddenly responds, “You’re not doing anything wrong.” 
He pauses, taking another pull before he changes the subject, “You spoke to your dad?”
That question almost startles her brain. She thought for a second that she could forget he’d be at the rehearsal dinner. She hadn’t seen him in two years. She kneels into the menu as she tries to deflect, “How do I tell the waiter I want this?”
Toji sees right through her, knowing exactly what she’s trying to do. He’s observant of a lot of her tendencies. He knows she’s avoiding talking about her father, and knows that she’s trying to forget. 
He’s not going to let her. 
“Show me what you want,” he mutters gruffly, nodding to the menu in her hand.
“Mmm, maybe I’ll just get ramen,” she tries to distract him. 
He eyes her as he suggests, “You can try the Sashimi.”
She scrunches up her nose, “I don’t think I’m in the mood for raw fish. No thank you.”
“You eat sushi all the time, baby. The fish is just cut differently,” he explains, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes.
He puffs his cigarette before speaking again, “Stop avoiding the subject and answer my question. Did you call him yet?”
She pulls back, letting him have the menu as she says, “I’ll see him at the rehearsal dinner. No need to call.”
“Bullshit,” he mutters, tossing the menu to the side, “He’s your father, of course you should call him.” Toji puts out his cigarette, now giving her his full attention.
“Oh hell, here you go with your family matters bullshit. I don’t need a therapy session. You don’t talk to your family either, Fushiguro,” she points out.
Toji’s expression drops at her mention of his family, something shifting in his eyes now. 
“Not the same thing, you know that.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs, “What am I supposed to say? Hey, thanks for cheating on my mom while she was sick, and then only being there to agree on pulling the plug on her? How’s your new bitch? Oh, did you figure out a tie for the wedding?” She tilts her head, sarcasm laced in her voice.
“Maybe say all that shit, it’s better than nothing. He still loves you.”
“Yeah, because I’m his daughter. Plus—it’s not my wedding, Dr. Phil.  It’s Ami’s and he loves her to death. Would do anything for her, she’s always been Daddy’s little girl,” she flatly says, “This isn’t about me.”
He shakes his head as he begins, “You don’t have to take the backseat to everything or be a doormat all the time. This is about you.” 
He moves closer, “It doesn’t matter who’s getting married. He’s your family, too. You think he doesn’t notice that you avoid him?”
“The phone is a two way street, if he wanted to speak to me that badly, he would’ve,” she crosses her arms over her chest, becoming uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Yeah, it’s a two way street. So why haven’t you called him in the entire two years? It goes both ways.”
“Because he hasn’t called me.” 
“So it’s a competition now?” 
“Fushiguro,” she warns.
Toji continues to glare her down, not backing off. 
“It’s not a competition. I’m just trying to understand your logic, or lack of,” he explains, “You keep saying the phone is a two way street. You haven’t called him either, but are pissed at him for not calling you, shit is ass-backwards.”
Her leg begins shaking beneath the table, not necessarily upset with him. The overall topic has her frustrated. Her attention is drawn back to him when Toji sees the tension in her movements, knowing that his persistent questions have stressed her. He grips her ankle gently to stop her from moving, his large hand wrapping completely around it as he places her leg on his lap. 
“All I’m trying to say is you should talk to him,” he says again, the firmness in his voice fading.
When she realizes that she’s only making herself upset, she stops. She had to face her father, and it would be happening tonight. It didn’t have to be a bad interaction, she just wished he never made the decisions he did.
 She looks down at the table as she then admits, “I love my father. But I hate what he did to our family.”
A small silence comes between them, his hand still loosely holding her ankle. 
“You don’t have to forgive him,” he finally says, “But don’t forget that he loves you. Even with his shitty decisions.”
She looks up at him, realizing his sincerity. The silence is filled as the waitress comes back, sitting down her bowl of ramen, also sitting down a plate of perfectly placed fish—raw, as she mentioned she didn’t like. 
Her arms are still holding onto her chest, realizing that for the sake of this weekend, maybe she needed to make a change. She sits up as she reaches for the chopsticks, dipping a piece of the fish into the soy sauce and popping it into her mouth. She chewed for a moment before tilting her head, “Seems like you don’t always have bad taste.”
He’s glad that she was able to open up a little bit, to talk about her family. As annoying as it was, he was beginning to worry about how she would deal with tonight. 
“See? If you weren’t so hard headed, shit would be much easier for you.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Stop talking to me.”
“Want me to feed you?—“ 
“Not too much, Fushiguro. I’m being nice to your ass right now.” 
“My bad.” 
She was afraid that their time together would be awkward, but it was the complete opposite. It was extremely natural, maybe even a little romantic. It was unfortunately creating that flipping feeling in her stomach. The one she felt if he even spoke to her, catered to her, adorned her—made her feel like she was his again. She pushed down that rush of emotions as they exited the restaurant, seeing the text from Isamu on Toji’s phone to let them know they needed to be on time to the rehearsal dinner. 
“Shit,” she mutters, “We might be late. Is there a quicker way to get back to our place from here?”
“Down this hill,” he refers, holding the large plushie in his own arm as she was too tired to carry it. 
As they continue walking, she realizes he refers to the road with a large downward path as a “hill,” and it makes her laugh to herself.
As they begin making their way down the lit up street, something within her feels giddy, and she can’t help herself. 
“Race you!” 
She’s already beelining down the road. Her body zigzags on the street as she takes off. She knew there was a small competitive bone in his body, no words as she heard his footsteps already booming behind her. Nozomi shrieks into giggles as he grips her up by her bottom half, throwing her over his shoulder as he continues running. 
She was happy and laughing, a sound he enjoyed hearing. He never wanted it to stop.
When he slowed down and was now walking, she huffed over his shoulder as she strained, “I guess this is better than walking,” gripping for her plushie to hold within the air.
Toji chuckled to himself as he felt her squirm in his hold, holding her tight so she wouldn’t fall, “You’re just upset that I always win,” he muttered with a grin, feeling her arms reaching for the plushie, pulling her up a bit so she could hold it.
Her eyes take sight of the city, another pang to her heart. She missed it here. It brought back so many memories within her childhood. Her eyes halt as she catches sight of a bridge farther down, patting his back as she says, “Hold on,” feeling as he places her down. 
She fixes her dress and hair as she catches her breath, looking over the bridge as she sees a rare sight—A cherry blossom tree. 
“They’re so pretty at night,” she sighs, “I’d kill for these in the states.”
Toji watches her as she takes in the scenery, now standing beside her. 
“I didn’t realize how much you missed Japan.” 
He looks out over the river, agreeing with her statement, “Yeah… shit is nice to look at, always has been.” 
It was then that Toji seen her shiver, his eyes glancing down as she attempted to cover her arms. 
“You cold?”
“I didn’t realize it’d be cold tonight, it was pretty warm earlier,” she says, a shiver exhaling from her mouth, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, no. You’re not.” 
Toji slips off his leather jacket, placing it around her shoulders as he murmurs, “Stubborn ass.”
She huffs out a laugh, seeing her warm breath in the air. She’s now turned towards him as he pulls the jacket to cover her body, her head tilted up to stare in his face, his frame hovering over hers. It was at this moment that she saw him—she hadn’t looked at him this way in a while.
He meets her gaze, his face much closer to hers than just a few seconds prior. The air between them has changed, the shift is palpable. Toji watches as she shudders again, the movement making her body press closer against him. The sight makes him feel protective.
“Toji, I—“
“I’m sorry.” 
She frowns, her eyebrows coming over her eyes as she’s confused. Her stomach tumbled at his sudden apology, and she wanted to beg that it wasn’t for their past. 
“I fucked up, Nozomi. I should’ve never hurt you the way I did.” 
This is the conversation she’d been avoiding. Her throat tightens. 
“Toji…”
Toji sees the mix of emotions in her expression, his own heart feeling heavy as he continues to look in her eyes. 
“I was a dumbass. I know that. I never should have—“ he pauses, feeling his throat constrict from the emotions now bubbling up, “Never should have done what I did, and I know my actions will never undo the pain I caused.” He sighs, voice lowering, “I just need you to know that you mean a lot to me. That never changed.”
She’s unsure of how to feel. He was always too stoic for his own good, never able to say his feelings, and here he was—completely transparent and vulnerable. She couldn’t keep fighting how she felt. She missed him. She wanted to forgive him. 
Toji’s phone then buzzes. Her eyes lowered to see KIM appear on the screen. The message read, ‘Where are you? Hurry back for dinner! It’s boring here without you.’
That was the icing on the cake. It brought back the anger she felt, why she was pissed with him in the first place. All her emotions went sinking into the back of her mind. 
She gives a humorless laugh, removing his jacket and handing it to him as she says, “That must’ve meant something to you too,” referring to his text. 
She begins walking, regardless of how cold she is, “C’mon. They’re looking for us.”
He frowns as her attitude takes a 180 turn, the moment of vulnerability gone as she hands him back his jacket.  Fuck. 
“Nozomi—“
But it’s too late, she’s already walking farther into the night. That was the end of the conversation. For now, at least.
When they arrive back at the house, she feels completely empty. The moment she opened up to him, possibly ready to have a conversation and move forward, it was all ruined. She didn’t know who to blame. Her stubbornness, his idiocy, or the bitch her sister called a friend. She was trying to keep it cute, but even this was too cute for her. 
Her look for the night was more simple this time, a halter top dress, doing her makeup softer than she usually would, her sister requesting her bridal party wear white. Her golden heels with white orchids along the top, braids swimming down to her lower back—feeling pretty might’ve made her feel better for the night to come. 
She came downstairs with everyone else, more to herself this time, especially when she saw Kim talking to Toji in the corner. His black button up was similar to her brothers, silver watch along his wrist and chain matching the jewelry he wore along his neck. 
Her attention was caught by her sister who pulled her arm for her attention as she asked, “You were damn near late, where have you been?” 
“I was just running errands, I’m sorry.”
Ami looks her up and down, “You missed the fitting for your dress. Kim has been calling you all day!”
“What?” She frowns, “I never got any calls from Kim. Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I didn’t have my phone on me, I was fitting for my dress too. It’s fine, let’s just hope you fit your dress.” 
She knew Ami, seeing she was trying not to be upset. But she knew she was. Her eyes flicked over to Kim, and she thought about ripping her dress off and choking her with it.
Everyone made their way into the limousine as they arrived at the rehearsal dinner, and just as they pulled in front did Nozomi realize something— her father was here.
She couldn’t focus. Although the venue was gorgeous and looked like something you’d see in a movie, her palms began to sweat. Most of Suguru’s family had already arrived, her side of the family there as well. She greeted everyone with absentminded hugs and cheek kisses. 
The usual conversations, ‘I’m sorry to hear about your mom’, ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’, ‘You and your sister look nothing alike,’ ‘You sure you both have the same father?’. It was unbearable, but she was used to it.
When she got down to the final family member, that’s when she saw…him. 
A traditional man, stoic and frightening, the only smile she’d ever seen on his face was if he saw her sister, or her mom, but he was different when it came to her. She follows behind Ami as she hears her sister call him, ‘Otosan’ an affectionate term, bowing respectfully. She then says, “Hi, Pa. I missed you,” pulling him into a hug.
He holds Ami to his chest, giving her a tight squeeze. 
“I missed you too, my love.”
He releases her gently, his eyes shifting over to Nozomi as she stands beside her sister. He looks her up and down for a moment, studying her appearance. This was the moment of truth. 
“Nozomi,” he says, “You look beautiful as ever.”  He holds his arms out, asking for a hug.
She doesn’t expect him to be happy to see her, nor was he an affectionate man. They hadn’t spoken in two years. She bows first as before she greets, “Hi, Pa,” taking in his hug, wrapping herself around him tighter than she thought she would.
He wraps his arms tightly around her shoulders, and it feels… strange.
“My sweet girl…” 
He sighs lowly, “Too beautiful for your own good. Still not married? You know the family is getting worried…”
“Pa,” she brushes off, “I’m fine. This is Ami’s day, we can talk about my loneliness later.”
He laughs, feeling the familiarity. It was like nothing had changed. 
“You’re still stubborn as ever, I see.” 
He pats her back before releasing her, looking her up and down once more. 
“You’ve grown more, you look… different,” he says, “Just like your mother.”
The sentence made her heart ache, and she immediately felt tears wanting to brim her eyes. She quickly blinks them away, humming in response. The sweet moment is vastly interrupted as a woman appears. She was smaller in frame between her and her sister, but was definitely older in age. 
She bows affectionately to them as she greets, “It’s nice to formally meet you, Nozomi. Your father has told me so much about you.”
Nozomi holds back her frown, “Uh—nice to meet you as well, and you are?”
“This is Yua,” her father says, smiling from ear to ear, “My wife.” 
Nozomi blinks, “Oh…wife. You got married two years later…” she stopped herself, it wasn’t the time. Her sister clutched her arm to also shut her up. 
She looks at the woman, “It’s nice to meet you, Yua. I’m gonna go find my seat.”
Yua smiles kindly, a sweet tone in her voice, “Oh of course, enjoy yourself tonight.” 
One thing about her father—and maybe where she got it from—he wasn’t afraid to talk shit about anybody, including his own daughter. 
Her father clears his throat once Nozomi is walking away, sighing out, “That girl still has a mouth on her.” 
“You can’t blame her,” Yua says, looking up at him, “She’s probably still hurt.”
“She’s twenty-seven, it’s time for her to stop pouting like a child.”
She hears the small banter between the two, clutching her fist as she sits next to her Isamu at a round table that’s also accompanied by Kim, and Toji. The interaction between her and her father didn’t go entirely bad, but the comments he made still showed who he was, and now sitting close to Kim and Toji, this night still didn’t feel too good.
As soon as Toji notices her at the table, his eyes are glued to her. 
He had never realized how stubborn she really was. 
That was probably one of the reasons why he liked her so much.
“You okay?” Her brother asks. 
She looks up at him, “Yeah, fine.” 
“I saw you talked to dad.” 
She blinks, “Yeah. I did.”
The night is filled with conversations and laughs, Toji watching as Nozomi becomes more and more irritated. 
This rehearsal was becoming a little too much for her as time continued to pass. She felt like this dinner wouldn’t end, her attention coming along Kim who stood at the stage, clinking a small silverware against her champagne glass.
All eyes turned to her, the table quiet as Kim began to speak, “Thank you all for coming out tonight!”
The room responds with applause, everyone anticipating her speech. Kim smiles sweetly— the type that looks fake to Nozomi, but was entirely convincing to everyone else. 
She smiles, “I just wanted to give a little speech for the couple. The love they share started the moment they looked at each other, and they’ve been an unbreakable pair ever since.” 
The entire room is silent, everyone listening to her every word. Toji could see the anger in Nozomi’s face, her eyes almost burning a hole in Kim’s existence.
“I’m so honored to create the dream that you’ve always wanted, your perfect wedding. And as the woman closest to you,” she looked directly at Nozomi, “I’m so happy to call you my sister.” 
Nozomi thrashes her tongue within her cheek, listening as everyone claps, looking over to her sister's table as she gives a smile, which pisses her off even more.
When the speech is over, she stands from the table as she holds her dress up, going over to the open bar they had as she requested, “Got anything brown?”
The bartender nods, “Certainly. What kind?” 
He makes her a vanilla crown and Coke as requested.  She takes it like a shot. The moment she feels at ease when the drink pours down her throat, it’s like a cloud begins to shadow her sun, and here she is standing in front of her—Kim.
“Are you having fun? You barely talked to anyone tonight,” she feigns a frown, “What’s the matter?” 
She leans against the bar, her elbow perched on the counter top.
“I’m fine, Kim,” she brushes off, not ready for her bullshit. But as she takes the last sip of her drink, she has another thought, “Actually, my sister said there was a fitting for everyone’s dress today. Why wasn’t I told about that?”
Kim’s eyes widened faintly, a playful chuckle rolling off her tongue, “Oh, that?” 
She taps her manicured nails against the top of the counter, shrugging as she does so. 
“I must’ve forgotten to tell you,” she grins, “My bad.”
“Of course you did. You’re good at that little thing you do. Being all cute, acting like you’re not an insolent bitch on the inside. Maybe on the outside,” she tilts her head, giving her the same grin in return, watching as her face fell at her words.
She’s startled a bit at Nozomi’s truth. She thinks quickly on her feet as she takes a step forward, “I think the drink is going to your head, love.”
“Maybe. You should order something for yourself as well! But I suggest you wait until I walk away, cause my hand holding this glass is feeling a little itchy, and you might have a headache further into the night.” 
When she expects Kim to simply go back and forth with her, she suddenly shouts, “You’re gonna do what to me?” 
The calculated bitch, she was purposely causing a scene.
Ami, Toji and her brother came running over as Ami questioned, “What’s going on?” 
“Nozomi just threatened to hit me over the head with a glass! I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re scaring me!” Kim presses her hand to her chest, Oscar worthy acting as her hand shakes. 
“What?” Ami looks at Nozomi, “Did you say that?” 
“No!” Nozomi defends, “Well, yes. But not for no reason!”
“Nozomi, what the hell?” Her brother says, “What is going on? Why are you threatening Kim?”
“This bitch just said that she purposely didn’t call me for our dress fitting today!” She exclaims. 
“I would never do that,” Kim defends herself, “I called you a thousand times. You just didn’t answer. I’m sorry, Nozomi.”
“Are you serious?” She blinks, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you—“ she goes forward, Isamu stepping in front of her. 
Ami then cuts off,  “Enough, Nozomi. I have been trying to be patient with you since you got here, but this is too much! Doing this at my rehearsal dinner? Making a scene? What the hell is wrong with you?” 
“What the hell is wrong with me? Ask your fucking friend that! Oh, better yet, your new sister! You’re seriously gonna’ blame me for this? When am I ever gonna be taken seriously, and not some fucking drama Queen?”
Everyone in the area is shocked by the commotion, the guests at the rehearsal dinner turning and whispering from their seats.
Ami’s face contorts with anger, “I always take you seriously, but look at what you’re doing right now! I’m constantly at your defense! But you’re acting like a fucking child!”
That.  
It always led back to her being the youngest. Nozomi laughed sharply, “Great. I’m a child. I’m over here pulling myself together on account of your goddamn wedding. Forcing me to be cool with your idiotic ass friend who fucked my man, and is still fucking him to this day! Not only that, forcing me to be here with him! The one who fucked your idiotic ass friend in the first fucking place, because I wouldn’t fuck him! Making me be cordial with my father who I wasn’t ready to forgive, because he fucked his new bitch behind our dying mother’s back—I’m doing all this for you! I’m holding it together for you! And I’m a fucking child? How about you wanting everything your way, but pissed off the minute something goes wrong? That’s a fucking child!” 
“What?” Toji then comes in, “‘The fuck are you talking about?” 
“Don’t be dense. I heard you fucking her the first night I came!” 
Toji blinks, confusion not even the word. His eyes narrow as he says, “I didn’t fuck Kim. This is my first time seeing her since you mom’s funeral, and since I left the states. I left right after you broke shit off with me.” 
Nozomi blinks, now equally confused. 
“What?” 
Isamu then smacks his lips, “Jesus,” chiming in to clear the air, “I was fucking Kim, okay? Toji and her only fucked around that one time.” 
That makes everyone’s eyes bulge out—including Kim’s—now realizing that this was all one big misunderstanding. 
“You’re fucking Kim? Ew!” Nozomi starts, “Seriously? Jesus Christ. When the fuck did you even have time to leave that orchid at my door?” 
“I left that orchid at your door,” Toji then clarifies, “It was supposed to be an apology. I wanted to talk to you, but you stormed back into your room and I didn’t want to piss you off more.” 
Nozomi takes all of this in. She doesn’t know what to say.
There wasn’t anything to say at this point, nor did she want to say anything else. With that, Nozomi does everyone a favor as she exits out of the building, finding her way back to the house. This had been a rehearsal dinner like no other. 
                       ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
THE NEXT MORNING WAS SILENT, which was unfortunate. It was supposed to be a beautiful day, Ami’s wedding day—everyone was supposed to be excited. But it felt like the complete opposite. The morning was quiet. Nozomi had a lot on her mind, but all of her other bullshit could be figured out later—she needed to make things right with Ami. 
The house had been cleared of all the men as they had to get ready at the venue, the bridal party now on their way to the house, Ami within her room as the makeup artist was also on the way. 
Nozomi quietly slid the door open to her room as she asked, “Can I come in?”
Ami glanced over at the door, a frown on her face, still upset from the previous night. She sighs before nodding softly, “Yeah, you can come in…”
She slides the door closed, standing along the wall. She tries to collect her thoughts, her words. Instead of jumping into the drama, she asks, “How are you feeling? Ready to be Mrs. Getou?”
Ami smiles, her anger softening as her eyes meet her sisters. She lets out a small yawn before nodding slowly, a tired smile on her face. 
“I’m nervous…” Ami admits, “A little too nervous, honestly…”
“It’s no need to be nervous. He loves you, even if you have a crazy ass family,” she tries to poke, “Today’s gonna be an amazing day for you. It already is. It’s filled with love.”
Ami laughs, the comment causing her to snort quietly, “You’re damn right about that. But I’m still a little mad at you…”
Nozomi sighs, “Look, I’m so sorry about last night, Ami. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. I was telling the truth, Kim purposely didn’t call me for the fitting, you know I wouldn’t have missed something as important as that. When she admitted it to me, I just…mushed her being a bitch to her fucking Toji, and I kinda spiraled. You can choose who you want to be friends with, I just don’t like how she treats me,” Nozomi softly admits, looking down to the floor.
Ami sighs, her expression softening. She knew that it hadn’t been entirely her sister's fault, even though she had been the one to cause the scene in the first place. 
“Listen, I’m not mad at you, okay? I wasn’t ever mad at you, I just hate how you never think anything through before doing it. You’ve always been that way, and you need to work on it.” 
Ami stands from the bed, walking over to Nozomi, wrapping her into a tight hug, “I love you, okay?”
“More than Kim?” She questions, trying to make another joke, “I really don’t like that hoe, seriously.”
A soft laugh tumbles from Ami’s lips, a snort following that, “Yes, more than Kim.” 
She pinches her sister's cheek, pulling her head back, “You gotta’ relax, okay? Today is my day, so keep your cool, yeah?”
“Scouts honor,” Nozomi promises, raising her hand up, “I don’t know why you didn’t just make Kim your maid of honor, no shade.”
Ami laughed, “Oh hell no. I want you to be part of the special moment,” She crosses her arms, “She can just stand over there and look pretty like every other bridesmaid.”
Nozomi rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Like a Disney villain.”
“Sidebar—where did you go yesterday?” Her sister then asks. 
Dammit. She was hoping she wouldn’t ask this question. She closes her eyes as she admits, “Don’t freak out. I went out with Toji—“
The squeal was already releasing from her lips, “Oh my god! Y’all are in love again! Wedding bells, are those wedding bells I hear?” 
“Ami.”
“Oh my goodness, he bought you that big ass plushie in your room! That’s the one you wanted mom to get you! I knew your frugal ass didn’t pay thirty-eight thousand yen for that!” 
“Ami.—“ 
“And he gave you an orchid to apologize, cause you love orchids! Oh my god, I’m gushing. I’m blushing!” 
“Jesus Christ, are you done?” Nozomi squints, “It was nothing. He probably thinks I’m crazy now after I accused him of fucking Kim again. But what else was I supposed to think? I probably just fucked everything up.”
Ami rolls her eyes, grabbing Nozomi’s shoulders, her gaze firm as she says, “Listen. You did not mess everything up. If he loved you then, he probably loves you even more now. You just need to apologize to him…after the wedding. Don’t make it about you, okay? Focus on the love we’re all sharing today, alright?”
She nods her head, “Got it.”
Ami smiles, bringing Nozomi into another tight hug, “Good, now go get your hair and makeup done, the artists will be here in an hour, and you’ve gotta’ look the best you can today, alright? You’re my maid of honor, you gotta’ look like the bottom bitch next to the head honcho!” 
“You’re a mess.”
“Not as much as you. It’s really my wedding day, eeeeek!”
They were thankful to have gotten up early, giving just enough time to do everything without feeling rushed. Nozomi of course did Ami’s hair, agreeing with her request to style it within a low bun pulled back to frame her face, sculpting her edges perfectly, adding her favorite flowers within the claw clip holding her hair together. The soft makeup along her expression brought her face out more than heavy makeup would’ve. She was gorgeous without it. Nozomi could feel a lump in her throat about to create, not sure why she suddenly felt so emotional, but she refused to cry. 
Ami’s heart swells at the sight of her sister in the mirror, her eyes softening as she hears her words. Memories of their mother flood her mind—memories of her sitting on the couch, watching her daughters put their hair in intricate styles for dance competitions, or style their hair for a wedding. She felt a pang of sadness in her chest.
Tears start to trickle down Ami’s cheeks, and she quickly wipes at her eyes. “God, don’t make me cry,” she murmurs, “I’m gonna’ ruin my makeup.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she kisses her forehead, “Don’t cry. Don’t want you choking me cause your makeup is ruined. No more tears!” She tells her, taking deep breaths with her before she continues crying.
Ami laughs through her tears, wiping at her eyes as she nods, “Okay, okay, no more tears. Don’t make me start again.” 
The makeup artist began to retouch her face. Everything was silent for a moment before Ami clears her throat, her voice soft as she says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Hm?” 
“Do you love him—Toji, I mean?”
Nozomi looks up to the mirror, thinking about the question. She doesn’t lie to herself as she replies, “Yeah, I do. But he’ll never know that.”
Ami’s eyebrows furrow for a moment as she glances back at her sister, “Why not?” 
She turns her head, her eyes soft, “Why would you hold that in? After everything he’s done to show you how he feels, why not tell him?”
“Because today isn’t about me, remember? Now, let the makeup artist finish her job, you can’t keep talking while she does your lip liner,” she distracts, “I’m gonna go get ready.”
“I hate when you deflect,” Ami scrunches her nose, “Whatever. You’re dismissed!”
She began to see the bridesmaids' dresses as she exited the room, seeing that they were simple pink gowns, silky and strapless. They were gorgeous regardless, going to search for which one was hers. But as she continued to look, she noticed a dress hanging along the wall, her name attached to it. Her mouth gaped open. It was entirely different from the bridal parties dresses, the only similarity being the color. 
It was a gown, corseted all around, diamonds and jewels cascading the material all the way up to the top, fluff swimming along where her breast sat, mirroring along the side of her hip. 
“Fucking hell, Ami,” she mutters to herself. 
She didn’t have time to freak out about how extravagant this dress was—she had to get ready. 
She pulls her braids within a low ponytail to accentuate her dress, artistically sculpting her edges. It fits her entirely too well. Her hips struck out, the corset cinched her frame in a way that made her feel the most gorgeous she’d ever felt. When she looks within the mirror, all she can see is her mom. 
She exhales as she goes into the other room to show Ami, her jaw dropping at her older sibling. She’d never looked so… ethereal. 
Her dress was a pure white, covered with soft pearls that gave the illusion they dripped off her body, her entire frame equally corseted, material choking her tightly. 
“Ami,” Nozomi placed her hands over her mouth, not enough to ruin her own makeup, “Oh my goodness,” she became choked up, “You look…”
Ami smiles at her sibling, gently standing to keep her dress from being ruined. She looked down at herself, gently placing her hands along the dress, the gems and diamonds sparkling underneath the lights. 
“Good?” She asks her sister, her voice soft. 
“Amazing,” she promises, “Don’t be nervous. I’m so happy for you. Are you ready? We don’t wanna be late.”
“Let’s get going then, yeah?”
It’s now chaos when they arrive at the venue. None of them had yet to see what it looked like besides the bride and groom, the panic of getting into place leaving everything to a surprise once they walked out. The guests had already arrived, sitting within the white chairs that were covered with pink bows and flowers, wearing their own shades of her sister's favorite color. Here were the groomsmen, perfectly dressed in their tuxes, pink flowers within their breast pockets. They were ready, making sure they were perfectly lined up with the bridesmaid they were assigned to walk with. Ami was hidden within a back room, preparing to be the last one to walk out. 
Nozomi holds her dress as she speed walks out to where everyone else stands, seeing Suguru and Toji standing together. She hadn’t seen him since the chaos of the night before—she couldn’t help but not be happy to see him. Seeing Toji’s suit perfectly frame his broad physique, his best friend stands next to him, his long hair within a bun, tied out of his face. They looked handsome. 
“Ready?” She questions Suguru, “I can’t wait for you to see her. You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
Suguru smiles at the question, an almost embarrassed look on his face. However, he doesn’t deny it, “I’m most definitely going to cry.” 
Toji laughs, shaking his head, “Big ass dork.”
Suguru takes another deep breath before he stands by the door, preparing to walk out. Everyone now stands in place, and that meant it was time for Nozomi to get in position too. She turns to Toji whose eyes she can feel along her body as she asks, “What? Something wrong with my hair?”
Toji couldn’t deny that she looked incredible in that dress—more than incredible, breathtaking. Everything about her seemed to be amplified from the dress. 
She looked amazing, gorgeous, etc, etc.
“Words can’t describe how good you fuckin’ look right now,” he grunts within her ear, reaching out to grab for her hand, kissing her palm before he wraps it around his arm. 
That makes Nozomi‘s face go warm, turning her head back towards the ceremony. She watches as Suguru’s parents walk down the aisle, clicking that it was their turn. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt nervous. 
She nods, “Thank you. Um,” she twists the flower within his breast pocket, “Just—don’t let me fall, okay?”
Toji’s chuckle is attractive, still deep in her ear as he lowly promises, “Not a chance in hell.”
When he slides his arm down to clutch her fingers in his  own, their skin feels electrifying together. She hadn’t held his hand in so long—it felt so good. When they prepare to walk, she tugs his arm as she mutters, “Seriously, Fushiguro. Don’t let me fall. I’ll hurt you.”
His eyes glance down at hers as he promises, “You won’t fall, pretty.” 
They finally walk down the aisle, everyone’s eyes turning to them. The flower petals along the ground are being tread upon as they stroll down the walkway, Nozomi’s heart pounding within her chest. 
He squeezes her hand again, gently rubbing his thumb against her knuckles in an attempt to calm her. It works, but not by much, keeping her mind occupied as they walk.
She can now fully see the venue— cherry blossoms, the main event of it all. They all laid along the ground, pink trees floating above the chairs and guests, slumped down as petals swirled in the air each time the wind blew. She doesn’t realize how tightly she’s holding Toji’s hand, feeling a vast amount of emotions come to her, the sentiments of something as simple as a cherry blossom tree meaning so much more to her.
They finally make it to the end, and Toji releases her hand to go stand near Suguru, his nerves settling as he takes his place next to the groom. The music changes, signaling for the rest of the party to begin walking. Each bridesmaid and groom look perfect together—hell, even Kim and Isamu looked nice walking together.
Everyone giggled as one of Suguru’s younger cousins came tumbling down the aisle, throwing more flowers onto the ground, including a smaller baby boy, who followed after her, holding the rings close to his miniature tuxedo. 
It was finally the moment, the moment everyone had come for. When she appeared at the end of the aisle—a gasp came from the entire venue. Nozomi had already seen her, but seeing her here, holding her father’s arm as she began to walk, her veil that swam the ground, she hated the emotion that began smacking her around. It didn’t make it better that every bridesmaid was already crying—that was enough for her. The music that played, the way she could tell Ami herself was trying to hold back tears, it was the most special moment she had experienced.
Nozomi gripped the flowers in her hand, trying to stop the tears that poured like nothing. When she looked over to the groomsmen side—even they were crying, Suguru’s eyes were red as he couldn’t hold back his emotion. His best friend was of course behind him, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. When Toji and Nozomi locked eyes, she gave a weak laugh, patting her own face to not mess up her makeup.
Toji couldn’t help but look at the way she was crying, his own eyes feeling soft as his chest felt heavy with an unknown emotion. His face felt warm, almost warm enough to make him tear up, but he tried his best to keep it down by looking away and trying to focus on the groom himself. 
However, every once in a while, his eyes would dart back towards her, admiring the way she looked in the soft lighting, the flower, the corseted dress, even her makeup. It amazed him. Seeing his best friend hold this much emotion towards a woman, it made him realize how much of a fuck up he was with Nozomi—he wanted to make things right.
The ceremony felt quicker than she expected, probably because she spent most of it crying. Everyone cheered and hollered as they kissed, cementing their love. It was now the reception, farther out into the trees, tables, menus, a selection of food, waitresses, anything you thought of at a high-end wedding, it was there. Everyone sat down as it was the bride and grooms first dance, seeing as they held each other tight, ‘SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK,’ by Joji filling the venue, Ami’s smile never leaving her face. 
Nozomi watched with a soft smile, kneeling on her arm. Others began joining them on the dance floor shortly after. Her attention was pulled as she heard her father’s voice behind her, “Omi’?” 
She hesitantly turns to him, “Yes, Pa?”
Her father had a wide smile on his face, his eyes soft as he placed a firm hand on his daughter’s shoulder, gently squeezing it. 
“Can I have this dance?” 
She gave him a gracious smile, “Sure.”
She took his arm, following him to the floor as she held one of his hands, the other going on his shoulder, while his hand went on her hip. They swayed slightly to the music. 
“I’m…really happy to see you, Pa’,” Nozomi tells him softly, “I’m sorry I haven’t called.I just…needed time, when mom passed. I know you wanted me to stay in Japan. But I couldn’t.”
Her father gently squeezed her hip, his eyes soft as he nodded his head, “I know.” He says, “I know it was hard. I remember how distraught you were when mom passed…it was hard on all of us. I couldn’t force you to stay in Japan. You needed some freedom after all that, and you found it in the states.”
He halts for a moment, trying to find his words as he says, “I miss your mom everyday. Despite my bad decisions. She’s always with me, just like she’s here with you.”
Despite his infidelity while their mom was sick, she knew how much he loved her. It wasn’t an excuse, but it could’ve been a way of coping with knowing she was going to pass, it was a loss for everyone. 
“I’ll do better at calling, Pa’. I promise.”
A small chuckle tumbles from her father’s lips, as he shakes his head, “No, you won’t,” he teased, “I’ll just have to keep calling you until you finally answer.”
“You know me so well,” she chuckles, continuing to sway with him. 
The moment was something she couldn’t ask for twice. To make up with her father, it brought a weight off her shoulders. She felt at peace. Maybe she needed to come back home. 
Her final conflict she had to resolve appeared, Toji stepping in as he politely asked her father, “May I?”
Her father nods gently at the man, patting his daughter on the hip one last time as Toji steps in front of her, holding his hand out. His eyes slowly drift downwards, examining the beautiful maid of honor, his chest feeling almost tight.
“There you are,” she says softly, bringing her arms around his neck, an eyebrow raising as Toji questions, “You were looking for me?” 
“Maybe.”
He places his hands on her hips, a smirk forming on his face, “You’ve been avoiding me,” he reminds, “The whole damn time. Barely said shit to me.”
“Wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at me,” she deflects, pulling his neck down, wanting him to be closer to her than he was, “The rehearsal dinner was a shitshow.”
Toji’s hands tightened on her hips as he pulled her a bit closer, their chests nearly touching. His dark gray eyes pierced into hers, almost staring into her soul.
“I’m not mad,” he mutters, “I’m used to your bullshit by now. It’s expected.”
She exhales, “That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.” 
“Cause it isn’t.” 
The same song plays, distracting her for a moment. She rolls her eyes, “So what do you like about me then, since I’m such a problem?”
“You’re a smartass,” he stated bluntly, “A smartass that knows how to press my fuckin’ buttons. A smartass that’s stubborn as all hell. A smartass…that also happens to be the prettiest person in the fuckin’ building. The only person I see here.”
Nozomi blinks up at him, her eyes glittering underneath the lights they have within the ceiling. 
“You’ really wanna be with me?” She asks softly, knowing the answer, maybe just needing reassurance.
“Don’t ask shit you already know the answer to,” he grunts, mouth lowering closer to her ear. 
His forehead pressed against hers, Nozomi giggling as he pulled her heels along his own shoes, holding her close. This might’ve been the moment she needed from him. 
They stayed like that for a while. 
The reception is in full force, different family members dancing together, Suguru and Ami inseparable, the music and food perfect for the environment. Nozomi had found a small moment to pull her and Toji away from the reception as the newlyweds took pictures, pulling him deeper into the trees, away from all the people—away from an audience. 
She leans herself against the bark, fidgeting her hands against his tux as she rambles, “My mom actually wanted her burial to be a cherry blossom tree,” she says softly, keeping her eyes along the material of his tux.
She continues, “We didn’t know until we found her wishes hidden inside the mattress. A weird place to put it,” she laughs, but it’s weak, nothing actually funny, “I think that’s why this whole wedding has been so…emotional for me. Besides seeing my sister be in love and so happy. This entire weekend has brought so many memories for me. Things I’ve realized about myself. Things I wanna fix…”
Toji couldn’t help but watch her closely as she opened up. This was the first time in a while that she’s been so…honest. So vulnerable. 
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for the orchid you left at my door,” she says quietly, “Despite the way I treated you, you still tried. And tried, and tried…” she giggles, Toji grunting as he presses his forehead along hers. She then says, “I also haven’t apologized.“
It was as if everything that happened after that was an unfortunate cue.
 Their attention is pulled away from each other as Isamu and Kim walk up to them, her brother loud as he calls, “Yo, where y’all at? Sneaking out already?”
She tries not to be irritated with her sibling. But as she notices Kim beside him giving her the nastiest look, her blood pressure spikes. 
“Just talking,” Nozomi replies, keeping her hand along Toji’s suit. 
“Got him under your claws so I don’t get to him, I see,” Kim sharply replies, and it’s quick, so quick that Nozomi almost doesn’t catch it. 
She slightly sits herself up as she raises an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”
Kim shrugs, “You assumed I’ve just been fucking him all weekend, is my comment too far off?”
“No, actually, it isn’t. You fucked’ him before, makes no difference now. A hoe is still a hoe.”
“Who are you calling a hoe?” Kim fires off, coming closer. 
But that wasn’t a problem, Nozomi was ready to put her in a headlock as she came around Toji, “ You know what— I can blame a man for his stupidity. But what I can’t handle, is a stupid ass bitch like you that would do anything for the idiocy that is a man’s attention. You knew how I felt about Toji, and yet you fucked him anyways, and you were suppose to be my friend. You’re lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot you.”
“Alright, knock it the fuck off,” Toji mutters, bringing his arm around her hip, lightly pulling her back from Kim who was in arms reach of the girl. 
Kim then says, “Don’t blame me that you couldn’t keep your supposed  man in check. I wouldn’t want you either if you didn’t wanna fuck me, Ms. Holier Than Thou.” 
Yup, that was it.
Nozomi laughed humorlessly, taking a step back as she moved Toji’s arm to let him know she was calm, but it was the complete opposite. 
Her eyes quickly scanned the scenery, seeing no one else around, locking her eyes back on Kim. She steps forward, plummeting her knuckles clean into Kim’s jaw, the crack heard in the echoes of the trees, Kim immediately dropping to the ground from the impact. 
“Yo, Nozomi, what the fuck!” Isamu exclaimed. 
Kim holds the side of her face, turning to the side as she spat blood on the ground. Nozomi’s anger had seeped over her. She didn’t mean to hit her, it just happened. Her knuckles stung, but it’s unfortunate that she didn’t feel satisfied. When she lunges forward to finish her off, her feet are suddenly off the ground, Nozomi grunting as she’s being thrown over Toji’s shoulder again, being pulled away from the reception. 
“Put me the fuck down!” 
She didn’t realize how close they actually were to their family’s house, practically feeling the fire off Toji’s body. He carried her into his room, Nozomi grunting as she hit the bed, breathless as her dress was already tight. 
She glares as she sits up, “What?”
Toji was absolutely livid. He could feel the anger radiating off himself as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes piercing into the woman on the bed. He had never seen her like this before. He didn’t have the time for her bullshit. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He questioned, anger laced in his voice, “You trying to get arrested at your sister's wedding?”
“I wouldn’t have gotten arrested,” she scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic. I been letting that bitch talk crazy to me all weekend. The bitch has literally been flirting with you, all up your fuckin’ ass, and you just—let her,” she spits.
“What part of I didn't reciprocate anything isn't getting through your thick ass skull?” He snapped at her, “I don’t give a fuck if she flirts with me. I wasn't interested. I only give a fuck about you.”
“Oh? So fucking her two years ago showed that you weren’t interested? You know what— let’s talk about it!” She exclaims, “Let’s just put it all out there. We were talking, it was becoming serious. Kim was my friend, a close friend at the time. Just when I was ready to bring my walls down, make things official, be with you, I find out you fucked Kim. And conveniently? It was right after I told you I wouldn’t have sex with you unless we were officially together. You couldn’t commit to me, but you could fuck her. Are we on the same page? Am I missing anything?” 
Toji's eyes darkened. The air between them was thick with tension. He never wanted to talk about this part of their relationship again, but if she was going to bring it up—he had to deal with it. 
“I could barely commit to you at the time,” he stated angrily, “You told me you wouldn't be intimate with me unless we were together. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Wait for me!”  She shouted back, feeling her throat becoming tight. 
“You were supposed to wait for me! You said that it wasn’t important, that you loved me! If you didn’t, you should’ve never fucking led me on! That's why I hated you. I hated you for it. You sit here now, talking about ‘what was I supposed to do’— you haven’t fucking changed!” She continues to keep her voice raised.
Her anger seeps through so quickly that she can’t help the vast punch she throws into his chest, fist shaking as she turns away from him to control herself. She wanted to be violent.
He reached out and grabbed her wrists, spinning her around to look at him. His eyes locked onto hers with a dangerous glare as he spoke, “I’ve changed. But you’re acting too fuckin’ stupid to see that. It’s like you’re looking for reasons to push me away. To end what we have.”
“Oh? You’ve changed. Typical. Say it a couple more times and maybe you’ll believe yourself. You haven’t fucking changed. You’re a bitch.” 
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Nozomi.” 
“Make me.” 
He could set off a bomb with the fear-inducing look he gave her, practically enraged at this point. 
“You made your bed. Be a fucking man and lay in that shit. You wanted pussy so bad you had to fuck a bitch that fucks everybody, my friend at the time. Now look at your bitch on a string, onto the next, fucking my brother when I wasn’t even worried about you. Now you wanna come back to me on some change bullshit. Fuck you.” 
“I'm not that same man anymore,” he spat, “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh? No matter how much I fuckin’ change. No matter how much I try. Your stubborn ass still thinks I’m the same man I was two years ago. You haven’t changed either.”
“And how the fuck haven’t I changed?”
“You’re still the woman who runs from every single emotion. Pushing everyone away from you. You can’t even stand to deal with your own fuckin’ feelings, so it’s easier for you to push everyone out of your life. You’re weak.” 
The words hit her. Actually, hit her. It all mushes together. The loss of her mother, shutting everyone out when she needed support in her time of grief. Toji. Her father. All of it. 
The tears finally come up, dropping down her face as there’s nothing but pure malice behind her voice as she lowly spits, “Fuck you.” 
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Nozomi. I would never hurt you the way I did before.” 
“Shut the fuck up.” 
“I love you.” 
Her heart stopped, hearing those words come from him. He was gruff in his tone, but meant exactly what he said. He wasn’t gonna let her push him away. 
“No you don’t,” she says, her voice cracking as she says that, “No you don’t. Stop lying to me!” 
He comes forward, gripping her tighter by her wrist and tugging her towards him, causing her to try to yank out of his hold as she panics, “Let go of me!”
“Say it again,” he challenged, his voice a low growl, “Say that I don't love you. Say that shit again. Say that you hate me.”
“I fucking hate you!” She exclaims, her voice trembling, slamming her fist into his chest as he takes hold of her other arm, “I hate you…I hate you…” 
The tears won’t stop, and she can’t believe her own words. It gets to a point where her entire body trembles, and she throws her hands over her face, sobbing, “Let me go, Toji…”
Toji's heart tightens in his chest when he sees her crumble before him. This was the first time he’s ever really seen her break like this. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly as he held her against his chest, letting her cry into him. 
“Cry, baby. I want you too. Need you too. I’m here to let you.”
She felt extremely overwhelmed, covering her face to mask her embarrassment, but that quickly fades. She reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck, clutching her fingers in his hair as she cries. 
He could feel her pain, her hurt, her anger. It practically radiated off of her. But there was one emotion that he could feel clearly. Fear. She was scared.
She didn’t want to be hurt again like the first time, she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again. But there was only one way she could find that out. Her crying eventually subsides, tears still along her face as she breathes into his neck, her hand still clutching within his hair.
 She says softly, “I…I love you too…”
Toji felt his breathing stop for a moment as he listened to her words. The three words he’s been wanting to hear for so long. 
“Again,” he mumbled against her skin, “Say that shit again.”
The sound of his voice. It’s different. She hadn’t heard him sound like this in a while, and when he did, it intimidated her. Sex didn’t necessarily scare her, it just scared her with him, for him to be her first. 
“I love y—“ 
It’s interrupted, Toji lowering down as he locks his mouth with hers, clutching a grip along her throat as he filthily kisses her. It’s abnormal. He wanted to entice her, he needed her.
He didn’t hold anything back as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, his fingers fully wrapping around her neck as a way to keep her still. He was enthralled, and he was going to show her just how badly he was. 
When he pulled his mouth back, her skin felt on fire. Her eyes blinked residuals of tears, teeth digging into her lip as he kept yanking her forward for another kiss, his mouth on her throat, her chest, her jaw, tongue dragging up her skin, aching for her. 
Her breath hitched as he picked her up, carrying her onto the bed. Her mind is spinning as he hovers over her frame, grasping her by the back of her neck and holding her up, kissing her so fiercely that it made her entire body tremble.
Toji’s mind was reeling. The feeling of her against him, her scent filling his nostrils, the way her skin felt against his lips. He felt like he was in a dream—a hazy, lustful dream. 
He pulled back from her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw before moving to her neck. His lips left marks along her skin, wanting her to feel them the next morning when she woke up. 
She finally lets her mouth drop words out as she nervously exhales, “Fushiguro, wait…”
When her words came out with a breathlessness to them, Toji felt his mind go crazy. He pulled back, his hot breath fanning against her skin as he locked his eyes on hers. 
“What?” He questioned in a low tone, his gaze flicking down to her lips as he waited for her to speak.
“You know I haven’t…” she feels embarrassed, “I just…I don’t want to look stupid.”
Toji’s expression softened as he heard her words. He knew her concern, he understood it. But in his eyes, she was anything but stupid. She was perfect. 
“You won’t,” he assured her, his hand moving up to grip her chin, “You don’t look stupid. Let me take care of you.”
She blinks. Her hand slowly reaches back for his hair, nodding her head as she asks him quietly, “Can you…kiss my neck again? It…It felt nice.”
A low grunt of approval rolled from his lips as he heard her request. He leaned in, hovering just above her skin, teasing her, watching her reaction as he finally planted his lips along her neck, right under her ear. The feeling makes her breath hitch, her head kneeling back slightly to rush off the burn she gets from his mouth. 
He left a trail of kisses down to her collarbone, his tongue slowly dragging along one part of her skin in the most torturous way. She shifts beneath him, her chest rising, trying to appear normal—but her skin is buzzing.
He nips at the skin just below her collarbone, and that’s when he hears a sound that sets him absolutely off. 
A gasp. It escapes from her lips as she tries to bite it back. The sound makes his ears go crazy, and he’s instantly driven by one thing now. More.
The dress she wears instantly feels tighter. She’d been around Toji many times, but never fully naked. She kneels her head up, mouth close to his as she murmurs, “Need to um…take my dress off…”
“I know.” 
Her throat goes dry as he flips her body over beneath him, effortless as if she weighed nothing. He begins unzipping the dress, sliding his hand inside the material, his mouth now along the back of her neck. He uses his free hand to grip her hair, fisting it into a ponytail beneath his palms as the dress hits the ground with a thud. Her entire body was now bare to him from behind, only being covered by the ballerina pink thong she wore.
Her skin was like fine porcelain, smooth and delicate. He could see some ink that stretched along her skin, and he instantly was curious to see all of it later. For now, he would leave those questions for another time. His mouth trailed up along her neck before he whispered into her ear. 
“I wanna hear my name from your mouth.” He demanded lowly. “Need to hear it.”
He still holds her hair within his fist, his mouth along her skin again, now along her spine, causing her eyes to flutter closed, unable to respond just yet, only arching her back to show she enjoyed the feeling. Chills rushed down her body as he locked his fingers around her ankle, twisting her towards being on her back again. His mouth was now crawling on the back of her thigh. 
She shivered, a reaction coming from her as she gasped softly, “T—Toji, w—wait—“ 
Yet he didn’t stop, grunting as he continued making out with her leg, dragging his lips across her skin, running his tongue up to reach the back of her foot, repetitively making her lower body throb in a way she hadn’t felt before, like she needed something from him.
Toji was drunk with the feeling of her beneath him. His lips were famished on her skin, marking her up in places that he knew no one would see. When she was now on her back, Nozomi couldn’t help but press her arm over her breasts, her other hand pressing in between her legs to cover herself. She wasn’t insecure in her body, but this was the first time he’d officially seen her naked. She felt…shy.
“Nah, don’t cover yourself from me,” he grunts, “I wanna see my woman.” 
Toji felt her shiver underneath him. He had to taste more of her, to see what else he could make her react to.
His mouth trailed up her leg, lingering near her core. His expression made her entire lower body warm. He leaned forward, darting his tongue out to tease her clit through the fabric of her panties. A low growl came from him in response as he felt her tense underneath him. He lifted his head, looking up at her with a smirk as he tugged her panties to the side, revealing her wet opening to him.
"You're so fuckin’ wet already,” he groaned. 
Her legs nearly locked together when he gave her clit the softest kiss, admiring the pink nub. Her pussy was pretty. Just for him. Leaning back down to lick at her folds, his tongue swirled around her clit before he sucked it into his mouth.
Nozomi’s body shuddered, the feeling almost ticklish, like she wanted to push him away. He instantly locked his hands along the back of her thighs, pressing her knees against the bed as he grunted, nudging his mouth farther into her clit, a slurping sound creating at the way his lips moved. Her hand went to grip his hair if she couldn’t escape, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she whimpered, “Toji…”
The moment she called out his name, Toji felt something stir within him. It wasn't just lust anymore, it was desire. A need to claim her, to mark her as his own.
He continued eating at her, his tongue delving deeper into her folds as he tasted every inch. His hands tightened around her thighs as he held her open for himself, letting her feel his hot breath fan across her sensitive flesh.
"Fuck...you taste even better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice muffled as he dragged his entire mouth along her core, Nozomi jumping as he harshly spanked the side of her thigh in approval. 
Her legs lightly clasped around his face, twisting his head a bit as it felt overwhelming, gripping his hair harder as her body trembled. She whimpered again, pleading to him, “Baby…”
But that didn’t do anything to stop him, if anything it made him continue. Her breath hitched as one of his hands came up, gripping her breast within his palm as the other kept her legs spread.
Toji felt her squirm beneath him, her pleas only spurring him on further. He loved the way she sounded, begging for him to stop yet unable to pull herself away.
“I’m sorry, baby. Can’t help myself,” he groans to her. 
She's trapped beneath his relentlessment as he sticks his tongue out, pushing it inside of her walls, warm and gummy as they fold around his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled as he groaned again, feeling Nozomi’s thighs trembling as she softly cried— He could taste her arousal, thick and potent. It was intoxicating, making him drunk with desire.
“Pussy is so fuckin’ pretty,” he grunts, holding her thighs apart as he circles his head, deepening his tongue inside her, the sight to Nozomi’s eyes completely filthy.
She throws her hands over her face as she softly cries, “Fushiguro….stop…”  her face was entirely red.
The more she begged, the more Toji wanted to hear it. He liked hearing her pleads. He had the intention to make it worse. 
"Shut the fuck up,” he grunted out, “‘Gonna put your whole pussy on my face,” his tongue delving deeper into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, her juices coating his face as he ate her out.
His hands gripped tighter onto her thighs, holding her open for himself as he continued to feast on her. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her pleas only serving to fuel his desire.
"Oh fuck...you're so tight," he groaned, his tongue curling as he pushed it further inside of her, “Not gonna be able to handle all this dick. Gonna fuckin’ cry,” he won’t stop talking, she wants to punch him at this point. 
Toji couldn't get enough of her—the taste of her. He lapped at her hungrily, his tongue plunging into her depths as his hands held her legs up. He could feel her tightening around him, her juices flowing freely as he devoured her.
"Oh my god, baby, gonna make you cum..." he growled against her pussy, his voice muffled by her folds. "Then I’m gonna fuck you up until you can't walk straight. Can’t think straight.” 
His words in her mind— it makes her legs shake even harder, trapping his head within her thighs again. He snatches them open, the sight of his eyes closed, tongue dipping in and out of her, she felt like she was going to faint. He gets a good leverage of her hips, dragging his tongue back up her clit, sucking it between his lips as the sound echoes in the room, sliding back down as he yanks her pussy against his jaw, practically bouncing her against his mouth. Her abdomen shakes as waves of pleasure come crashing down, something like his tongue making  her feel a stretch in her walls, how was she gonna survive? 
It didn’t help that Toji was beneath her, moaning as if this pleased him entirely, head swiveling around, bottom of his face completely soaked. Toji was lost in the taste of her, the feel of her body writhing beneath him. Her cries filled his ears, her juices coated his tongue, and the way her body shook beneath him drove him wild.
He sucked harder on her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as he worked it into his mouth. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he rolled his lips, sucking all at the same time, practically drinking between her legs. 
The moment her legs opened a bit wider for him, Nozomi reached up for her ankle that quivered, her hips matching the jitter as she looked down to him, panting, “Agh…Fushiguro…I—baby…” 
“About to cum, pretty baby?”
“I—I don’t know…” her throat grasps for the oxygen in the room, “F—Feel like I have to pee…”
That makes him grunt, clutching his palms back around her ankles, hovering his mouth above her hips as he makes contact directly with her clit, sloppily slurping at the sticky and wet flesh, dropping his lower lip against her entire core as he slows his mouth down, head motioning in a circle so effectively that he should’ve been dizzy. The sight, the sound, all of it makes Nozomi’s eyes flutter. She tightly snatches his hair as her abdomen tenses up, a sense of defeat as she gushes along his face, Toji reaching up as he sticks his fingers within her mouth, pulling her up by her teeth to make her watch. 
“Cum just like that. Good fuckin’ girl,” his voice is still muffled, entrapping her pussy with his mouth, lapping up her arousal mercilessly, worshipping her body for the pleasure she releases. She jumps as he raises his hand, spanking the side of her ass, gripping the flesh to watch it faint a color of red. 
Her eyes are low, body tired—but they’d only just begun. 
He comes up as he snatches the side of her face, plunging his lips against her own as he messily makes out with her. Nozomi attempts to keep up with him, but her body feels paralyzed, wondering if this was her time to plead the fifth. This man was trying to kill her. 
“Eyes,” he tells her, gripping her chin to look at him, “You’ okay? Need me to stop?”
Despite her own mind in fear of what was to come next, her body was on vibrate, and a bigger part of her wanted more. Needed more. She shook her head, pulling her eyes open as a response.
 She gasps softly as spanks her ass, “Nah. Fuck all that no talking shit, tell me everything you feel. Tell me you want me to keep going.” 
The thought of being vocal made her nervous, embarrassed even. She said softly, “Keep going…” 
He smacks his lips with a grunt of, “You can do better than that,” pulling her into another kiss before he backs up, standing at the edge of the bed to begin removing his own clothes. Nozomi only watches, her face warm and flustered, thinking back to running out of the room each time this man even took his shirt off. 
Now here he was, dark eyes intently on her as he aggressively tugged off his tie, never as gentle with himself as he could be with her. Her eyes drop down as he begins removing his pants, trying to hide the way her eyes want to fall out when he pulls down his boxers—he definitely was…gifted, if she could find the word.
“Don’t look at me like that if you don’t wanna come play with it.” 
She keeps her eyes to herself. 
He almost chuckles, feeling her gaze pull away as he stands before her, now completely naked. His entire frame was beautifully sculpted, abdomen hard, nearly sharp within her sight. He comes back onto the bed, his large arms caging her in by the sides of her head.  
“Like what you see, huh?”
 His lips are close to hers again, lightly brushing along the baby pink of her mouth. Her face is warm again, looking everywhere but between his legs. She says softly, “Don’t do that,” too nervous for his teasing. It’s the little things he does, brushing his mouth against hers instead of actually kissing her that drives her crazy. Her mouth is parted as she wants him to make out with her, but instead he presses light kisses along her jaw, watching as it makes her chest heave up and down, wrapping her arm around his neck, reaching for his hair from behind.
He chuckles, enjoying just how much he can get her worked up. Her need for his mouth on hers was obvious, it only made him want to tease her even more. 
 “You want my mouth?”
His fucking voice—the way he slowly begins locking her legs over his shoulders, it makes her clutch tighter for his hair. A small whine comes from her mouth, breathing into his throat as she begs beneath her breath, “Want your mouth, so bad…”
She’s so vulnerable like this, so vulnerable beneath him. 
“I know you do.” He mutters against her skin, his mouth now trailing up to her ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this, you know that? Begging for me, whining to have my mouth on you.”
Her legs being separated by his shoulders make her ache even more, unable to squeeze them together anymore. He still doesn’t give her what he wants. He needed the perfect moment. Her heart beats within her chest, hoping this isn’t as painful as she imagined it to be. 
Toji’s face hovers over hers, face stoic as he watches her expression. He locks his palms around her ankles while trapping her along the bed. The moment feels like an eternity. He takes his tip within his hand, rubbing it against her clit, watching as she shudders from that. He then slaps it along her opening, listening to her pussy squelch, needing to be filled. The silence was deafening at this point. 
Slowly, dreadfully, achingly, he begins to push inside of her. Nozomi’s eyes twitch, her mouth parts open a little after, and she starts to feel a deep pinch in her lower body, a sweet pain that she’d never experienced before. Toji keeps his eyes up, gently placing his forehead on top of hers as he moves a bit, the hold she had along his hair clutches even tighter, and finally, a whimper comes from her lips.
The sound of her whimper causes him to pause, closing his eyes momentarily to control himself. He was already engulfed in her pleasure, but it was the fact that he knew he was her first that was making him absolutely feral. 
Toji felt his breath get caught in his throat the moment he heard that sound come from her. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, and it sounded so damn good to his ears.
Her legs instantly began trembling. Her arms around his neck tighten as she leans her head back, pulling him forward to press his lips along her neck. The mixture of the two feelings made her legs tremble even more, a shuddering whine coming from her mouth. 
She gasped, deeply, her eyes closing as she could feel tears brimming in them, a pleasure she had never experienced before filling her body.
The sight of her so sensitive causes his mind to snap. Her body is like a piece of glass; he has to hold her with care, otherwise she’d break. He had to be gentle with her, and he had never been this gentle with anyone. 
She’s gasping along his ear, Toji unable to help himself to talk to her as he grunts, “Shit feels good, doesn’t it? This is my pussy, huh?” 
His voice in her ear sends her into panting softly, keeping her grip on his hair. His grip along her ankles doesn’t falter, spreading her legs a little wider, Nozomi pulling his face deeper into her neck as she trembles, “Oh my…ohmygod.”
Her trembling beneath him only makes his heart race that much faster. She’s so reactive, every subtle movement he makes as he’s between her legs brings a new response. He lets her claw into his hair, needing her to mark him in some way as her hands stay there. 
Toji’s mind is hazy as he pushes deeper into her, a low groan leaving his mouth near her ear. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
Her inhales are short, but her exhales are long. She pulls his face up to meet hers, lightly pulling their lips together, trying to kiss him, unable to as her head spins, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She whines softly, “B—baby…I…”
He can’t help the grin that comes to his face as she tries desperately to kiss him, but her body is too sensitive to it. She trembles, her hair sticking to her skin, a glow of sweat along her body. 
It’s pleasure, and only Toji can give it to her. He’ll give her all of it. 
“What, baby?” He muttered against her skin, peppering kisses along her neck as he continued his slow movements. “You’ gonna say my name again?”
He’s barely moving, but the moment he does, she cries softly, dragging her nails into his back, “Toji,” she whimpers his name in the most desperate way, as if wasn’t allowed to.
Each time she says his name, he can’t help but feel heat fill his body. Each cry, each whimper, each breath from her skin as she says his name, it makes him hungry for more. 
His grip on her ankles tightens, using them in order to drive himself deeper. When she cries his name, Toji can’t help but groan against her skin, kissing where he can as he whispers, “Say my fuckin’ name just like that.”
His left hand reaches up for the headboard, finding a grip along the wood as his other hand still holds her ankle. Nozomi keeps her nails dug into his back, face within his shoulder as she brokenly moans, feeling that she’d be embarrassed about the sounds she made later. 
She gasps softly, “I…I feel…different…”
It’s obvious that she’s still new to the feeling. Her whimpers are filled with a hint of pain, but Toji was determined to make this as good for her as possible. 
He wants no thought to be in her mind but him.
“How do you feel?” He asked her between breaths, his chest pressing against hers, his head buried in her neck as he began to pick up rhythm, their flesh creating a clapping sound. He slowly moved her leg, moving it to a spot that would make her feel even more.
Her leg trembles at the movement of her leg, mouth right against his as a genuine, “Ughn—shit,” scatters desperately from her lips, eyes fluttering shut, losing the side of her brain to answer the question.
The sound of her swearing has a dark chuckle fan against her mouth from him. Toji wants to ruin her, and he intends to do just that. He wants to make her so sensitive that she’d be unable to handle just one more touch.
His lips brush hers as whispers to her, his movements deliberate and calculated. “You feel good, baby?” He muttered against her skin, “You’ hear me fucking you? Hear your pussy, baby? She sounds so pretty, doesn’t she? Sucking me in like she can’t let go. Listen.” 
The clapping sound of their skin, the way his hips bury into her, sloshing each time he pushes inside. She inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she breathlessly whimpers, “Yeaah,” she drags the word out a bit to her disadvantage, clutching his hair again, sucking her breathing back to silence as she hears herself losing her sense to talk.
Her voice makes Toji groan. She sounds absolutely wrecked. 
“It’s too much, huh?” He cooes, the bastard, his hand moving from her ankle to her thigh, “Who’s making you feel like this?” 
“You, baby,” she says, eyes rolling back ever so slightly, “You, baby. Fuck, it’s you, baby,” she repeats, as if she didn’t hear herself the first two times.
“That’s fuckin’ right,”  He muttered against her skin, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh as he continued his movements, making her feel every each inch of him, “Nobody else is gonna fuck you the way I do.” 
She’s the one who’s begging for him. She’s whining for him, and only him. She’s saying his name and only his name.
“You feel so good, baby.” He whispers to her, “Pussy made just for me. Wanna eat her again, miss that shit gushing all on my mouth.” 
She’s gripping onto him for dear life. Her reactive moans  is the only thing he can hear as he continued, “You’re so sensitive. If I eat you out, I know you’re gonna cream, might even squirt. Fuck, baby…” 
“Oooohshit,” her mouth parts, Toji grasping a rough kiss at the opportunity of her mouth opening, “Fuckin’ feel you, baby,” she clutches his hair tighter, “D—Don’t mean to pull your hair like that…m’sorry…”
“Pull harder.” He orders her, his voice low as his lips now give company to her ear. 
She tugs a little more in response—soft, making sure she doesn’t hurt him—which causes Toji to chuckle, the deep sound fanning against her lips. 
She nearly pouted, “Don’t laugh at me…”
He kisses her shoulder gently before grunts, “You’re so fuckin’ cute like this. Fuckin’ needy ass. So tough, so mouthy—all you needed was some dick.”
“You’re making fun of me…” she whimpers, turning her face down to his shoulder, becoming a bit
more vocal as her body relaxes. 
“I am,” he admitted against her skin, “But you’re taking my shit so good, baby. You’re being such a good girl, it’s so fuckin’ sexy.”
It seems that his voice is what triggers her, because when she takes in his tone, a particularly deep gasp comes from her chest, her head kneeling back, hips squirming in response. Her pussy tightens. 
Toji grumbles against her neck, “You like my voice, baby?”
She nods her head, “I—agh—like it, baby,” she agrees softly, “Like when you talk to me…” she tries to find her words, feeling her face warm as she also adds, “Like when you’re a little rough with me…”
He chuckles against her skin, her confession only furthering his drive, “Rough, huh?” He muttered against her skin, “I’m trying to be gentle, baby. Don’t do that.” 
“I’m okay,” her voice is soft, but it’s a protest, “Feels good, baby. I…” she drags her nails down his back, “Want more of you.”
The sound of her voice is so soft and needy, so desperate for more of him, Toji can’t keep himself from groaning against her skin, her nails digging into his skin just making him all the more greedy. 
“You want more of me?” He muttered against her neck, his lips brushing along her pulse, “You can barely take the dick I’m giving you now, whimpering and shit. You don’t need more.” 
She pulls him down by his hair, tugging it the way he asked before, her tongue dragging along his skin as she whimpers, “Please, Toji…”
The tug on his hair makes his breath get caught in this throat, and the way her tongue drags along his skin is only adding more gasoline to the fire that’s already burning inside of him. 
“Please what, baby?” He asked her against her skin, her whimpering driving him further over the edge, “You gotta tell me what you want, baby. Use your words.”
She thinks for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted. She then tells him, “‘Wanna get on top.”
The statement takes him by surprise, his movements pausing as he lifts his head to look at her. Being on top would give her a position of control. But one look at her face, her expression, he finds that he’s unable to say no even if he wanted to. 
“You wanna ride me, baby?” He grunts to her, Nozomi nodding in response as she persuades, “‘Wanna show you I can handle you…” a desperation to her tone, “Want you to feel good too.”
“I feel good as fuck, baby. Don’t worry about that. Come here.”
He leans himself back along the bed, pulling her above him as he states, “Prove that shit, then.”
Now she was actually nervous. Her legs feel numb, and there’s a very faint cramp in her lower abdomen, but the pleasure she felt—a rush of it came over her body seeing him now laid on his back, dark eyes watching her every move. She wanted more. 
She slowly crawls towards him, curiously eyeing the monster that stood at her attention, it jumping when she looks fully at his dick. It was veiny, probably heavy in her hands. She can’t help it. She leans forward as she wraps her lips around his tip, dipping her head down as she drags spit along his entire length, pulling her mouth back with a pop.
 As she runs her tongue over her lips, she feels him clutch her jaw, grunting at the sight of her sucking his dick as he growls, “You’re not ready for that. Come bounce on my dick.” 
She listens— although something in her prefers to be defiant—coming onto his lap, reaching behind herself as she runs her palm along his tip, guiding it towards her opening as she spreads herself with her other hand.  
She sinks herself down, the newfound feeling causing her eyes to drop lower, a soft gasp leaving her lips. It was an aching pinch in her body all over again. She adjusts her hips as she moans, feeling Toji’s hands grip the skin of her ass, balancing her weight.
He groaned at her walls tightening around him, opening his palm as he slammed it against her ass with a gruff, “That’s it, baby…” 
She leans herself into him, placing her hands along his chest as she looks behind herself, slowly raising her hips, gently dropping her ass back down. Her entire abdomen felt on fire, her eyes fluttering closed as her legs throbbed, pulling her hair behind her ear as she shuddered, “Like that?”
He groaned the second she began to move, and he was barely able to hold himself back from lifting her hips himself, making her move. He’s letting her set the pace, making sure to give her as much time as she needs to adjust herself. 
His hands found her hips again, guiding her gently as he let out a husky, “Just like that, baby…” His voice is a harsh whisper, his eyes unable to leave her. “So fuckin’ sexy…” 
The way his voice sounds is different from before, a vulnerability that he didn’t have when she was beneath him. She moved her hips up and down a couple of more times, the final connection sending a wave of pleasure over her body, her breath hitching before a soft moan released. This is where she began to find her rhythm, moving a little faster, her fingers sinking into his chest, digging into the skin as she dug her teeth into her lip, eyebrows furrowing as she attempted to hold back the whimpers that wanted to drop from her lips.
As she found her rhythm, Toji allowed himself to let out a low groan, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of her body against his. The dig of her nails into his skin only drove him farther over the edge, his hands on her hips only holding her, fighting the demon that wanted to take control. He could feel her slowly gaining more confidence—he was loving it. 
“Riding my shit like a fuckin’ pro, baby…” 
She wasn’t sure why was so shy at this moment, and in order for her to feel good, she needed to relax. She swirls her hips around, running her fingers over her body in a way that makes her hips tremble, immediately placing her hands back along his chest as she moaned, “Need you to touch me…” as she takes one of his hands, placing it along her throat, face warm as she does so.
He clutches his palm around her throat immediately, still holding onto her hip, spanking her again, “Like that? That’s what you want?”
She nods, “Mhm,” sucking in a breath as she feels him using her throat as leverage to hold onto her, her breathing going back to quick inhales, and slow, heavy exhales, “Yeah, baby…love when you touch me like that.”
He’s becoming impatient—he can’t help himself. He gives her a new way to move, pulling her feet flat along the bed, raising his hands higher under her thighs to have a good leverage on her, before he’s lifting her up, dropping her down, bouncing her on top of him, the harsh movement causing their skin to make a loud noise, the impact making Nozomi fully gasp. It causes her to place her hand behind herself along his leg, the other still in front of his chest. 
She understands what he wants, doing just that, moving her entire body as her ass recoils to the slam of his abdomen, something she entirely was too sensitive for, but powered through in order to feel the pleasure that came with it. Her head was down, whining as her lower body shook, dragging up and plopping back down, a heavy groan dropping from her lips as her hair fell around her face and shoulder. 
She squeezed the skin she held onto as she messily moaned, “Oh my goddd—baby. baby, yeah—“ she squeaks, connecting their hips in between, “I can’t….” She pants, “Feels so…aghh.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
He was supposed to be letting her have her time on top, but he can’t hold back any longer. He growls against her skin, his voice almost a command, “Lean forward. Let me fuck you.” 
She leans into him, feeling as he wraps his arms around her lower back, his own hips thrusting upwards, the sound within the room like no other. Nozomi places her hand against his bicep, digging into the skin as she bleats, “Ooooh, shit, Toji—“ she gasps to herself, locking her hand over her mouth, shuddering wildly as she then wraps her arms around his neck as she cries, “Mmmm, wait, baby,” she whimpers out, unable to hold her voice back.
He buries his head into her neck, kissing, licking, biting, leaving a mark as he continues. 
“Nuh-uh, thought you could handle it? Thought you were a big girl?” He grunts in her ear, “Take my fuckin’ dick, big girl.”
He takes advantage of his movement, fully locking his arms under her legs, pulling her knees over his shoulders as she’s still on top of him. Her arms are still wrapped around his neck as he sits himself up a bit, holding her fully as he guides her roughly. His palms are hot as he holds the flesh of her ass, lifting her within the air as he yanks harshly, pussy sopping arousal as he slams her down onto his dick, his balls drenched in her cream.  Nozomi gasps against his mouth, blabbering cries faltering against his lips. She can only listen to the sounds their bodies create together, mewling in defeat. 
She pouts along his mouth as she whimpers, “Fuckin’ love you, babyy.”
He captures her lips with his own, his teeth gently tugging on her bottom lip as he grunts against her mouth, “Stop all that whining shit. Thought you hated me.”
She presses her forehead to his, “Don’t bring that up…” seeing how messy she was against him, her hand back in a deep grip on his hair. She goes silent for a moment, holding him close as she listens to their skin stickily connecting. But that didn’t mean he was done talking to her.
He moves himself slightly, shifting their position just enough for him to get a good angle to give a particularly aggressive thrust, enough to force a cry from her lips, “I know you fuckin’ hear me talking to you.”
Her heavy panting goes into a particularly long and raspy moan, her breath sucking in as she tries to fight it, back to pressing her forehead against his as she whimpers back, “Don’t hate you. Can’t hate you, when you’re fucking me like this…” she groans, eyes wanting to roll back again, “Sorry, baby…was so mean to you…”
He relishes in her groans, her whines, the way she’s unable to speak normally, the way she’s falling apart completely because of him. “You should be sorry. Now look at you.” 
He doesn’t halt at all, her small frame being carried effortlessly, lifting her up and down on his dick, his tip damn near reaching her throat. Her breathless pants are embarrassing to hear, but the squeal she makes when he swirls her hips down with a hard drop onto his hips, that's even worse. 
Her arms tremble as she tightens them around his neck, another aggressive moan pushing out her body, pleasurable tears triggering from that one. She gasps, “Oh my—“ she holds herself back, looking him in his eyes as she whines messily, “Forgive me, baby. So fuckin’ sorrry. Imsosorry,” cheeks hot as she listens to his arrogant laugh.
“Sorry, huh? You don’t mean it.”
“Mean it, baby. Fuck.” 
“It’s cause I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he grunts, tugging her down, her walls gushing through his thrusts, spurting out suctions of air. 
She drags her tongue up his jaw, reaching his mouth as she pleads, “Said sorry already, baby. Know you wanna forgive me…”
He groans at that, keeping his composure as he talks to her, “Say you won’t be mean to me again,” he demanded against her lips, his grip on her hips tightening.
“Always gonna be nice to you, baby,” she whimpers, “Wanna be sweet to you…” she sucks on his lower lip, giggling in a way that makes her feel insane, so full of pleasure, she couldn’t even think.
“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly, his hands grasping a harsh and unforgiving grip on her hips, “You promise?”
“Promiseeee,” she moans back, “Fushigurooo,” she panics, gripping onto him, “I….my body…I feel numb.” 
She didn’t understand the feeling. She had experienced a certain amount of pleasure, but this was different. While all of this had been symphonies of pleasure, this was an entire orchestra. She was having her first orgasm.
“Just let it happen, baby.” He muttered against her neck, his lips against her skin, “It’s a good thing, I promise.”
Her entire body jolts, shivering in a defeated pleasure, a short scream releasing from her mouth as she holds onto him, her legs trembling as if she’d been electrocuted. Her knees shake over his shoulders as her eyes drop down to see her squirt against him, nails digging into his chest as she cried out, “Tojiii.” 
He presses his forehead to hers, his own body feeling like it’s on fire as she moans, “Ooh, fuck baby. You’re squirting. Keep cumming. Keep cumming. Keep. Fuckin’
Cumming,” he talks in between thrusts, sending her in a state of psychosis. 
The tears that drop from her eyes make her sob in pleasure, knowing his skin was welted with the way she clawed him, her face pressing into his neck as a warmth filled her cheeks. His brain is muffled as she whines, “Cum in me, cum in me. Cum in me.”
He tries to knock sense into himself, but with her in his ear, he grips her skin as he bottoms out, moaning as he cums to her voice. She made him insane.  
Both of them feel exhausted, but not as much as Nozomi. When she finally felt that her mouth wouldn’t release anymore shouts, her body still trembled as she whimpered, bringing her face deeper into his neck.
“Fuck, baby. You’ okay?”
She brings a hand over her face as she nods, unable to do anything else. All her vulnerability returns, realizing she was bare against him, realizing what’d she just done. What they’d just done. 
Her sudden shyness makes him careful. She’s vulnerable like this, and he wants to take the time to handle her, to treat her. He gently guides her body against his, rolling them so she’s against the mattress and he’s laid against her. He gently pries her hand away from her face, his fingers gently tracing over her cheeks. 
“Hey, pretty,” his deep voice greets her. 
Her face turns away, hiding within his shoulder for a moment. Silence goes between them as she softly says, “Hi.”
He lets out a soft laugh at her shy greeting, his hand gently rubbing the side of her body, his fingers gently tracing over her back. 
“You’ okay, baby?” He asked her stain, placing a gentle kiss against her temple, “You with me?”
“Mhm,” she replies gently, “I’m here.”
She whimpers as she feels him spank her attention to him, flicking her eyes as she says, “I’m just thinking.”
He can see the way she twitches from the smack, his voice dropping into a deep chuckle, “Thinking?” His tone is a tease, a playful taunt as he speaks, “I fucked you that good, huh?”
“Fushiguro,” she warns, “Jesus. Fuck off. Is this your way of pillow talk?”
“You’ got an attitude?” he raises an eyebrow.
He hikes her up as he growls into her neck, snatching her skin in a kiss that makes her giggle. She then says quietly, “I just…am curious to know what this means for us. Going forward…” 
She traces her finger over his chest, “If this just happened in the moment, or that you really wanted to be with me…”
The questions almost pissed him off. He’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants her. 
He suddenly captures her chin in his hand, bringing her face up to meet him as he spoke in a deep and serious tone, “I want you. I want all of you.”
The words are genuine, and her heart swells. She leans closer to his face as she grins, “Say it again.” 
She giggles as he raises her leg over his shoulder, spanking her again as he grunts, “I love you, Nozomi.”  
His words make her body warm, feeling as he gruffly kisses her neck, trying to prove his point. The way she smiles, the way the grin looks on her face…he’s completely smitten.  
“Say it back,” he grunts against her skin, his words like a breathless demand, “Say you love me.”
“I love me,” she says softly, giggling louder as he hovers over her now, growling against her skin as he spanks her a couple more times.
He chuckles against her skin at her sarcastic words, his hand gently digging into the flesh of her thigh as he pressed another possessive bite into the skin on her neck, just hard enough to make her squeal. 
“I swear. Say you love me, baby,” he teased her, nipping against her skin, “Please.”
She finally becomes serious, holding up his chin to look directly at her as she says, “I love you, Toji.”
A low groan drops from his lips as he captures her in a deep, hungry kiss, his mouth attacking her own as his hands tug at her body to pull her closer to him, “Again.” 
“I love you,” she muffled, giggling against his mouth, “I love you.”
His body is craving her even more after hearing her words, her voice a drug that’s suddenly driving him crazy, suddenly making him desperate and needy. His tongue forces its way into her mouth, desperate to fuck her. Eat her out. Something. 
She then pulls him back, “We need to get back to the reception before my sister kills me,” she giggles throughout his kisses, “Seriously, Fushiguro.”
He pauses, pulling back from her neck as he groans into her skin, pulling back to grumble against her skin, “Fine.”
“One more kiss,” he bargained with her, “Just one, before we go.”
“One,” she agrees, accepting the kiss from him. He then leans down, “Or two,” kissing her again, “Or three.” 
He can’t help but want to make her giggle. It had been so long since he heard it, he’d never make her stop. She sighs as she says, “Help me with this dress, please?”
“We’re really leaving? For real?” 
“Did you think I was joking?”
“A little.”
“Boy. Let's go.” 
“Didn’t you say you were gonna be nice to me earlier? You were like ‘aghhh, baby! imma’ be nice!’—“ 
“Fushiguro!” 
“…My bad.”
780 notes · View notes
kiwriteswords · 27 days ago
Note
Hi Ki! Could I get an Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader fic, where maybe she LOVES christmas and he's sorta grumpy about the whole thing and she really changes him!
A Season of Sunshine
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Female!Reader||Word Count: 6k
Tags/Warnings: 5+1, Christmas, Sunshine Reader, fluff, mentions of grief, mentions of holiday sadness, mentions of alcohol in social setting, legit tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn, no use of Y/N.
Sypnosis: 5 times reader brought sunshine to Aaron Hotchner around the holidays, +1 time Hotch brought sunshine to her.
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I.
Aaron Hotchner observed you from across the bullpen, your laughter ringing out like a bright bell amidst the quiet hum of clicking keyboards and murmured conversations.
The first snow of December swirled gently outside the frosted windows, a backdrop to your seemingly boundless energy. You were leaning over a desk, cheerfully handing out small, festively wrapped candy canes to your teammates.
You looked so happy. That was the thought that lingered in Hotch’s mind as he watched you move from desk to desk, your smile contagious enough to soften even the usually stoic faces of Rossi and Morgan.
“You’re going to give me a cavity, Sunshine,” Morgan teased as you placed a candy cane on his keyboard.
“That’s what dentists are for,” you replied with a wink, earning a chuckle from him.
Hotch’s lips twitched, but the smile never fully formed. It was a rare thing for him these days, and while he appreciated your attempts to brighten the team’s spirits, he couldn’t help but question how someone who dealt with the kind of darkness their job revealed could remain so light—so...sunny.
The holidays were always difficult. For everyone. Suicide rates spiked, depression deepened, and grief—a familiar companion for Hotch—seemed sharper in the winter cold. He thought about Jack, about the guilt that came with knowing his son’s memories of Christmases past were punctuated by his absence, his work always pulling him away.
And then there was you. The newest member of the team. This was your first Christmas with the BAU, and you’d already brought in a small, sparkling tree to decorate the corner of the bullpen, strung colorful lights across your desk, and started an advent calendar that you insisted everyone participate in. You’d even convinced Penelope to wear a reindeer headband, complete with jingle bells that she delighted in shaking whenever someone passed her office.
“Hotch?”
Your voice startled him from his thoughts. He realized belatedly that you were standing in front of his desk, holding out a candy cane with a hopeful smile. Up close, you were radiant, your eyes sparkling with holiday cheer.
“For me?” he asked dryly, glancing at the candy cane as though it might be a trap.
“Of course. Everyone gets one,” you said, placing it neatly beside his coffee mug. “It’s peppermint. Good for focus.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. There’s research on it and everything,” you replied, as though your enthusiasm alone could make it true. You lingered a moment, tilting your head to study him. “You’re not much of a Christmas person, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied carefully.
“But you wouldn’t say you are one, either,” you countered, your smile never faltering. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix that.”
And with that, you were gone, leaving him with the candy cane and a faint scent of pine and vanilla trailing in your wake. Hotch’s gaze followed you as you returned to your desk, now chatting animatedly with JJ about the best Christmas movies.
He shook his head slightly, turning back to the stack of case files in front of him. Fix that, you’d said. As if he were some project in need of holiday spirit. He supposed he should’ve been annoyed, but there was something about your relentless optimism that he found...endearing.
Over the next few days, your efforts to “fix” him grew more deliberate. A holiday playlist softly played in the background of the bullpen, courtesy of you and Garcia. You organized a Secret Santa exchange, somehow roping even the most reluctant members of the team into participating. When the team went out for an after-hours dinner, you’d insisted on ordering hot cocoa for everyone, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.
It was infectious, your enthusiasm. Even Hotch, who prided himself on his unshakable focus, found himself humming along to a Christmas tune as he reviewed case notes late one evening. He stopped mid-hum, frowning. You’d gotten to him.
By the time the team’s annual holiday gathering rolled around, Hotch couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere. The bullpen felt lighter, more alive, and the credit undeniably belonged to you. Yet, he still struggled to reconcile how you could be so bright amidst the shadows they encountered daily.
That evening, after most of the team had left, Hotch found himself standing by the small tree you’d brought in. The lights twinkled warmly, and a single wrapped present with Jack’s name sat underneath. You’d insisted on helping him pick out something special for his son, your genuine excitement rivaling that of any child on Christmas morning.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
He turned to find you standing beside him, your coat draped over your arm.
“It is,” he admitted quietly.
“I know this time of year can be hard,” you said softly, your voice losing some of its usual buoyancy. “But it can also be really beautiful, in its own way.”
Hotch studied you for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in your expression. “How do you do it?” he asked finally. “Stay so…”
“Happy?” you finished for him, smiling faintly. “I’m not always happy, Hotch. But I try to focus on the good things, especially when the world feels dark. It helps.”
“Focus on the good things,” he repeated, almost to himself. His gaze shifted back to the tree, the warm glow of the lights reflecting in his eyes.
“Exactly. Like candy canes and Christmas trees,” you teased gently, nudging his arm.
For the first time in a long while, Hotch allowed himself a genuine smile. “Thank you.”
You blinked, surprised by the unexpected gratitude. “For what?”
“For reminding me.”
You tilted your head, your smile widening as you replied, “Anytime, Boss.”
And for the first time, Aaron Hotchner found himself looking forward to Christmas.
II.
Aaron Hotchner stood in the corner of David Rossi's cozy living room, a glass of sparkling water in hand. The house was warm and bright, filled with the soft glow of Christmas lights and the hum of cheerful conversation. Children’s laughter rang out from the area near the tree, where Jack, Henry, and Michael were busy examining their gifts while Savannah held baby Hank on her lap, cooing softly to him.
Hotch’s gaze drifted to you, as it often did these days. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jack, helping him assemble a toy airplane with nimble fingers and endless patience. Jack’s face was lit with excitement as he explained the steps in his careful, deliberate way, and you listened with an encouraging smile. Occasionally, you glanced up to share a warm look or quick comment with the adults nearby, your laughter soft and genuine.
You looked so happy. And watching you, Hotch felt something he couldn’t quite name. Warmth, perhaps, or an ache just beneath it.
It had been over a year since you joined the team, and in that time, you’d become the one person who could cut through his carefully guarded exterior. You had a way of disarming him with your relentless optimism, your knack for seeing light in the darkest moments. He’d felt it most acutely during the holidays, when the weight of loss and responsibility pressed hardest against him. Somehow, you always managed to draw him out, to remind him that there was still beauty in the world.
“Dad!” Jack called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Look at this!”
Hotch stepped closer to the group, bending down as Jack held up the half-assembled airplane. “That’s impressive,” he said, his voice warm. “You’ve got a good helper.”
“Your dad’s just saying that because I haven’t broken anything yet,” you teased, glancing up at Hotch with a grin. There was a faint blush on your cheeks—likely from the eggnog you’d been enjoying—and your eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Not yet,” Hotch replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.
You gasped in mock offense, your laughter bubbling up. “I’ll have you know, I am an expert toy assembler. Just ask Henry.”
Henry, who was sitting nearby, nodded sagely. “She’s really good,” he said, earning a chuckle from the adults.
As the evening wore on, the children settled into a quieter rhythm, playing together under Savannah’s watchful eye. The adults moved to the kitchen, chatting over mulled wine and eggnog. You lingered by the doorway for a moment before making your way toward Hotch, who had retreated to the quieter edge of the room.
“You’re hiding,” you said, your tone light but teasing.
“Just taking a moment,” he replied, glancing down at you. You’d swapped your eggnog for water, but the slight sway in your stance betrayed your earlier indulgence.
“It’s Christmas,” you said softly. “No moments allowed. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”
“I am,” he said, and it surprised him how true it felt.
You studied him for a moment, your smile softening. “Good. You deserve it.”
The warmth in your voice unsettled him, and yet he couldn’t look away. You had a way of seeing him that no one else did, peeling back the layers he worked so hard to maintain. It was disarming, intoxicating, and he didn’t know whether to thank you or guard himself more fiercely.
“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Bringing people together. Making them feel…better.”
You tilted your head, your expression turning thoughtful. “I try. It’s not always easy, though. Especially with you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” you said, your eyes brightening again. “And you should also consider letting yourself enjoy things a little more. Just a thought.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replied, and the soft, teasing edge in his tone made your smile widen.
For a moment, it was just the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You looked up at him with an openness that made his chest tighten, and he found himself wondering—not for the first time—how someone like you had ended up here, in a world so often filled with darkness.
“Merry Christmas, Hotch,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that lingered long after you’d turned to rejoin the group.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for the first time in years, he meant it.
III. 
Aaron Hotchner stared out the window of the small motel room, the cheap curtains drawn back to reveal the dim glow of Christmas lights strung up on a nearby house. It was the only reminder of the holiday, a faint glimmer of cheer amidst the grim reality of their current case. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, tired and drawn, the weight of the day etched into the lines of his face.
The case was bad—one of the worst. Children were involved, and they were short-staffed, with JJ staying behind to be with Henry and Michael. Hotch had insisted on it, even though it meant carrying the guilt of being away from Jack. Jack, who was now old enough to understand that his father’s work sometimes came before everything else. Old enough to feel the sting of his absence.
The thought gnawed at him, a sharp pang that had been with him all day. This was a Christmas Jack might remember—one of the few left before he stopped believing in the magic of the holiday. And Hotch wasn’t there. He should’ve been there.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, half expecting Morgan or Rossi, but it was you. You stood there with a small smile, a wrapped package tucked under one arm. Your presence alone was a balm, a brief respite from the heaviness that seemed to cling to him.
“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice quiet but warm. You weren’t your usual bubbly self tonight—the weight of the case had tempered your sunshine—but there was still a light in your eyes that seemed undimmed.
He nodded, stepping back to let you in. You placed the package on the small table near the window, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned to face him.
“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend Christmas,” you said softly, your gaze steady on his. “But I thought maybe we could try to make it feel a little more like home.”
Hotch felt his throat tighten as you handed him the gift, your smile tinged with something tender. He unwrapped it carefully, his fingers brushing against the edges of the frame as he revealed the photo inside. It was a candid shot of him and Jack, taken during one of their rare moments of unguarded joy. Jack was laughing, his arms thrown around his father’s neck, and Hotch’s own smile was wide and genuine—a version of himself he hardly recognized anymore.
“Where did you…” His voice faltered as he looked up at you.
“I snuck a photo of you two over the summer at the get-together Penelope hosted,” you admitted, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “I thought you might want something to remind you of him. Especially tonight.”
He swallowed hard, the emotion catching him off guard. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice rough. “This means a lot.”
You smiled, that warm, gentle smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his world. “I’m glad.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the heater. Then Hotch cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back to you. “Would you…stay for a while?” he asked, surprising even himself. “I…I think I could use the company.”
Your smile widened, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”
The two of you settled on the edge of the bed, a small laptop propped between you as you queued up an old Christmas movie. The screen cast a soft glow over the room, the sound of holiday music mingling with the rustle of case files as you both worked quietly. Occasionally, you’d make a comment about the movie, drawing a rare chuckle from him, or he’d ask for your input on a theory for the case, your perspective always sharper than you gave yourself credit for.
As the hours passed, the weight on his chest seemed to lift, just a little. Your presence was steady, grounding, and he found himself watching you more than the screen. The way your eyes lit up during certain scenes, the way your laughter softened the edges of his grief, the way you leaned just slightly toward him, as though drawn by some invisible force.
Eventually, the movie ended, and the case files lay forgotten on the nightstand. You’d curled up on your side of the bed, your head resting on the pillow as sleep claimed you. Hotch sat beside you for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of your breathing, the peaceful expression on your face.
Carefully, he slid down beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. As his eyes closed, the photo of Jack on the nightstand caught his gaze one last time. For the first time that day, he felt a flicker of peace.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured softly, the words barely audible in the quiet room. And for the first time in years, he meant it.
IV.
Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he stepped into the bustling bullpen, the hum of holiday cheer filling the space. Twinkling lights wrapped around cubicle dividers, and Penelope Garcia had outdone herself again, transforming the office into a festive wonderland. The annual Christmas gathering was in full swing, and the team—his family, as much as he’d allow himself to admit it—were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the break from their usual grim reality.
He scanned the room automatically, his eyes landing on you. You were by the snack table, laughing with Morgan and JJ, your smile radiant under the soft glow of the holiday lights. You wore a deep green sweater that somehow managed to be both festive and professional, and your laughter, as always, was the kind of sound that warmed even the coldest corners of his heart. Jack adored you, the team adored you, and though he’d never said it aloud, Hotch knew you were the brightest part of his life. The thought lingered, unspoken but ever-present.
“Hotch, my man,” Morgan called, clapping him on the back. “Looking sharp as always. You’ve got to come try Garcia’s infamous eggnog. It’s got a kick that’ll put hair on your chest.”
Hotch raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll pass.”
Morgan smirked but said nothing, his eyes flicking briefly toward you. Hotch didn’t miss the knowing glance, but he chose not to comment. The team had been teasing him for months now, their thinly veiled remarks about how well you two complemented each other becoming harder to ignore. And the truth was, they weren’t wrong. You were the sunshine to his shadow, and no matter how hard he tried to maintain his stoic demeanor, you always found a way to break through.
“Hotch, come here for a sec!” Penelope called, waving him toward the breakroom with an exaggerated flourish. Her excitement was suspicious, but he indulged her, weaving through the crowd of colleagues.
You were already there, standing by the counter with a cup of cocoa in hand, your head tilting in curiosity when you saw him approach. “What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and Penelope.
Penelope’s grin was practically devious. “Oh, nothing,” she said innocently, gesturing upward. “Except...look up.”
Hotch followed her gaze, his stomach sinking slightly as he spotted the small sprig of mistletoe dangling above the two of you. He heard the team’s collective laughter and chatter outside the door, and when he looked back at you, he saw the faint flush that crept up your cheeks.
“Penelope,” he said, his tone even but edged with warning. “This seems highly inappropriate.”
“Oh, come on, Hotch,” Morgan’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Don’t be a Grinch. It’s tradition!”
The team’s voices joined in, a chorus of good-natured peer pressure that only made the situation more absurd. You laughed softly, glancing at him with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “Looks like we’re outnumbered,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Hotch’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile threatening to surface. “It seems that way.”
You stepped closer, your expression softening as you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. The warmth of your touch lingered, and when you pulled back, you gave the team an exaggerated shrug. “That’s all you’re getting. This seems like an HR nightmare waiting to happen.”
The team erupted in laughter and groans, their teasing echoing through the room as they slowly dispersed, leaving the two of you alone. Hotch stood there, momentarily stunned. He was rarely caught off guard, but something about the way you’d handled the moment—with grace, humor, and that unshakable light of yours—had left him uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
“You’re quiet,” you remarked, breaking the silence. There was a hint of teasing in your tone, but your eyes held something deeper.
Before he could respond, you stepped closer again, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious note. “For the record,” you said, your gaze locking with his, “I’ve thought about doing this for a very long time.”
And then you kissed him. Fully, softly, your lips brushing his with a warmth that stole his breath. It wasn’t hurried or fleeting, but gentle and deliberate, a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. When you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, but there was a quiet confidence in your expression.
“Merry Christmas, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying that same warmth that always seemed to anchor him. And before he could find the words to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there beneath the mistletoe, the faint taste of peppermint and cocoa lingering on his lips.
He stared after you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite name. You’d left him stunned, questioning everything he’d been holding back for so long. And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—really wonder—what he was waiting for.
Aaron Hotchner stood frozen beneath the mistletoe, replaying the moment over in his mind. Your touch, the warmth of your lips, the quiet confidence in your voice as you walked away—it all lingered like a soft hum, reverberating through him. For a man who thrived on control, who prided himself on composure, he was suddenly untethered.
The sound of laughter and conversation from the bullpen drifted faintly into the breakroom, but Hotch barely registered it. His gaze had followed you as you disappeared through the doorway, the gentle sway of your steps a stark contrast to the rapid thrum of his pulse. He raised a hand to his cheek, where your earlier, teasing kiss still burned faintly, before letting it drop.
He should follow you. Say something. Do something. But what? His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slow and uncertain. You’d left him with no doubt about your feelings, and yet he still found himself grappling with the implications, the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
The door creaked slightly, and Morgan’s head poked through, a smirk firmly in place. “Hey, Hotch, you coming back out? Or are you still processing?”
Hotch shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, his tone even but quieter than usual.
Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Take your time, man. But don’t let her get too far ahead of you. She’s got a lot of sunshine to give, and you’ve been standing in the shade too long.”
With that, Morgan disappeared, leaving Hotch alone once more. He exhaled deeply, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For all his teasing, Morgan wasn’t wrong. You were sunshine, the kind that warmed even the coldest, darkest parts of him. And maybe—just maybe—he was ready to step into that light.
With a resolute breath, he straightened his tie and stepped out of the breakroom, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. You were by the tree now, talking with JJ and Garcia, your laughter carrying softly over the hum of the party. For the first time, Hotch felt a clarity he hadn’t allowed himself before.
He wasn’t going to wait anymore.
V.
Aaron Hotchner stood in the kitchen; his sleeves rolled up as he finished drying the last of the dishes. The faint sounds of Jack’s laughter drifted in from the living room, where you were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, sorting through the pieces of a puzzle you’d brought as a Christmas gift. Jack, now a teenager, had grown taller and lankier in the past year, but his laughter still carried the same unfiltered joy that made Hotch’s chest ache with pride and affection.
He glanced over his shoulder to see the two of you working together, your head bent close to Jack’s as you studied the image on the puzzle box. You wore a soft red sweater, simple but elegant, and jeans that hinted at your easygoing nature. The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree reflected in your eyes as you laughed softly at something Jack said. Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at the way you fit so seamlessly into his life, the way you made everything—even something as ordinary as a puzzle—feel special.
The evening had been everything he could have hoped for. You’d arrived earlier with a bright smile, carrying a bag of gifts and a small dish of your signature dessert. Jack had met you at the door with a quick hug and an eager grin, his awkward teenage reserve slipping away in your presence. You’d brought him a few thoughtful gifts, including a hardcover art book filled with sketches and techniques, knowing he’d taken up drawing. Jack had practically beamed as he flipped through the pages, his gratitude clear in the way he couldn’t stop thanking you.
For you, Hotch had chosen something more personal. When he’d handed you the small wrapped box after dinner, you’d looked at him curiously, your fingers carefully peeling back the paper. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm—a tiny sun.
“It reminded me of you,” he’d said simply, his voice quiet but steady.
Your breath had caught, your eyes shining as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “Aaron,” you’d murmured, your voice soft with emotion. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He’d watched as you fastened it around your wrist, the charm catching the light in a way that seemed fitting. You were his sunshine, after all—the bright spot in his darkest days.
You hadn’t come empty-handed either. You had given Hotch a new tie, one that followed a similar pattern to his others--it was very him. You’d slipped back to your bag and pulled out another box, this one wrapped in dark green paper with a neat silver bow. “This is for you,” you’d said, holding it out to him with a touch of nervousness in your smile.
Hotch had unwrapped it carefully, revealing an elegant, framed photo of himself and Jack. The picture was candid, taken during one of Jack’s soccer games earlier in the year. Jack was grinning, his arm slung casually around his father’s shoulders, and Hotch was mid-laugh, a rare moment of unguarded joy captured perfectly. These moments so far and few these days, Jack growing up before his eyes so fast. He couldn’t help but worry if he had missed too much, but this photo was a reminder he was present. 
“I thought you could use an updated photo of the two of you,” you’d explained, watching him closely. “I thought it might be nice to have a reminder of how much Jack adores you.”
For a moment, Hotch hadn’t been able to speak. He’d traced the edge of the frame with his fingers, his throat tightening as he looked up at you. “It’s perfect,” he’d said simply, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you.”
Now, as he stepped into the living room, he saw Jack stretch and yawn dramatically, the puzzle only half-finished. “I’m heading to bed,” Jack announced, his voice carrying the exaggerated tone of a teenager.
“Goodnight, kiddo,” you said warmly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. Jack groaned in protest but didn’t pull away, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Goodnight, Dad,” Jack said, pausing by Hotch’s side before wishing you goodnight, “Thanks for the gifts; I loved them.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied, your smile softening as Jack disappeared upstairs.
Hotch settled beside you on the couch, the warmth of the fire casting a gentle glow over the room. You tucked your legs beneath you, leaning slightly into his side as he rested an arm along the back of the couch. The quiet filled the space like a comforting blanket, and for a moment, Hotch simply let himself savor it.
“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” he said, his tone teasing but tinged with sincerity.
You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’m just trying to win him over with gifts and puzzles. It’s all part of my master plan.”
Hotch chuckled, his thumb brushing idly against your arm. “It’s working.”
Your smile lingered, but your expression shifted slightly, growing more thoughtful. “Aaron,” you began, your voice softer now. “Can I tell you something?”
He nodded, his gaze steady as he turned to face you fully. “Of course.”
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the edge of the throw pillow beside you. Then you looked up, your eyes meeting his with an openness that made his chest tighten.
“This past year has been… incredible,” you said, your voice tinged with emotion. “Being with you, getting to know Jack, feeling like I’m part of something so special… I can’t even put it into words.”
He listened intently, his hand still resting on your arm, his thumb now tracing small, reassuring circles.
“What I’m trying to say is… I love you,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly on the last word. “And I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but tonight felt right.”
The room seemed to be still, the faint crackle of the fire the only sound as your words hung between you. Hotch felt his breath hitch, his chest swelling with an emotion so profound it left him momentarily speechless. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he leaned closer.
“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “More than I can ever say.”
Your eyes filled with tears, but your smile was radiant as you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his. For a long moment, the two of you simply stayed like that; the weight of the world momentarily lifted.
Later, as the fire burned low and the room grew quieter still, Hotch held you close, his arm draped around your shoulders. He glanced at the bracelet on your wrist, the tiny sun catching the last flickers of light.
“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “I’ve thought about telling you for so long, but I kept overthinking it. I was so nervous you wouldn’t feel the same way.”
Hotch’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, his voice quiet but firm. “You never had to worry about that,” he said. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it.”
You looked up at him, your smile soft but full of emotion. “We’re quite the pair, huh? Overthinking everything when it’s so obvious.”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against you. “Maybe. But I think we got it right in the end.”
Your hand brushed against his, your fingers intertwining. “The best kind of right,” you murmured.
Hotch pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the weight of your words and the warmth of your presence filling him with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. As the fire flickered its last embers, he held you close, silently marveling at how you’d turned his world into something brighter than he’d ever thought possible.
+I
Aaron Hotchner stood in the middle of the living room, adjusting the final string of twinkling lights around the small tree you and Jack had picked out together the week before. It was early Christmas morning, and the house was quiet save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint sound of Jack’s laughter from the video game he was playing upstairs. Hotch had been up for hours, carefully setting everything into place for what he hoped would be the perfect day.
Living with you had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the warmth you brought to his home but the way you’d taught him to savor moments, to lean into the joy of life rather than keeping it at arm’s length. This Christmas, he wanted to return the favor.
The first part of his plan unfolded at the BAU’s holiday party earlier that week. For the first time, Hotch had embraced the festivities rather than standing on the sidelines. He’d worked with Penelope to set up a hot cocoa bar, complete with toppings and festive mugs, and even organized a Secret Santa exchange. When you’d arrived in your cozy sweater and bright smile, you’d lit up even more upon seeing what he’d done.
“You did all this?” you’d asked, looking around at the decorated conference room.
“I had help,” he admitted, his lips curving into a rare smile. “But I thought it might be nice to bring a little sunshine to the team. You’ve inspired me.”
Your cheeks had flushed at his words, your smile widening as you leaned into his side. “I think it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”
Now, at home, he hoped to create something equally memorable. He’d waited until you were fast asleep the night before to finish wrapping the small but meaningful gifts he’d chosen for you. Among them was a leather-bound journal with your initials embossed in gold, a nod to the way you’d always jot down your thoughts or ideas. But the most significant gift was hidden beneath the tree, tucked inside a small box. It wasn’t extravagant—Hotch had never been one for grand gestures—but it was deeply personal.
When you came down the stairs later that morning, your hair still slightly mussed from sleep and a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, you froze at the sight of the living room. The tree glowed softly, surrounded by neatly wrapped presents, and the mantle was adorned with garland and stockings. On the coffee table sat a tray with freshly brewed coffee and your favorite pastries.
“Aaron,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion. “Did you do all this?”
“Merry Christmas,” he said simply, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I wanted to make it special for you. For us.”
You looked at him, your eyes shining as you took it all in. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
The morning passed in a blur of laughter and warmth as you and Jack opened gifts together. The journal earned a quiet, heartfelt thank you, but it was the last box Hotch handed you that brought tears to your eyes. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny sun-shaped charm, a perfect match to the bracelet he’d given you the year before.
“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over the charm. “I love it.”
“It reminded me of you,” he said, his voice low. “And of everything you’ve brought into my life.”
Later, as Jack retreated upstairs to play with his new gifts--mainly video games this year, you and Hotch curled up on the couch together. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room as you rested your head against his chest.
“You really outdid yourself this year,” you murmured, your voice filled with affection. “You’re like a whole new person.”
“Not new,” he corrected gently, his hand tracing slow, comforting circles on your back. “Just better. Because of you.”
You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your smile soft but radiant. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. And you’ve given me the best Christmas I could ever ask for.”
He leaned down to kiss you, his heart full in a way he hadn’t thought possible. “I love you too,” he said softly. And as he held you close, the warmth of the season and the light of your presence surrounding him, he knew that this—this life with you—was the greatest gift he could ever receive.
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Tag List:
@zaddyhotch
@estragos
@todorokishoe24
@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
@reidfile
@bernelflo
@lover-of-books-and-tea
@frickin-bats
@sleepysongbirdsings
@justyourusualash
@person-005
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screampied · 11 months ago
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all angst + non nsfw works will go here! majority of my sfw fics are always gender neutral unless stated otherwise. key: ꨄ = fluff | ❦ = angst | pinned post.
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✩ ˛˚ . ONESHOTS.
GOJO SATORU.
twenty three missed calls: you wonder why gojo won’t answer his phone on christmas. ꨄ , ❦
NANAMI KENTO.
to the night we met: kissing nanami on new years was perfect. it felt a bit too real though. ꨄ , ❦
TOJI FUSHIGURO.
mine all mine: toji comforting his pregnant wifey. ꨄ
way of the househusband: teaching toji how to cook (sort of) ꨄ
✩ ˛˚ . DRABBLES.
GOJO SATORU.
never say goodbye: gojo hates whenever you say goodbye to him. ❦
reflections: gojo plans to confess his love to you on valentine’s day. but he’s too late. ❦
you may say im a dreamer: gojo has a dream that you died and it felt a bit too real. ❦
goodnight satoru: gojo doesn’t like when you say goodnight. ❦
nightmares: gojo always comforts you with your nightmares until one day, the real nightmare is him. ❦
old enough to understand: growing old with gojo. ꨄ
TOJI FUSHIGURO.
first time shave: toji realizes he loves you once you shave his face for the first time. ꨄ
NANAMI KENTO.
stress-free: taking care of nanami after he has a stressful day at work. ꨄ
life after death: nanami asks you a simple question—what happens to someone after they die? ❦
SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
maybe i’m the problem: making up after an argument. ꨄ
pretty boy: painting sukuna’s nails. ꨄ
i love you: sukuna never says i love you. ❦
no hugs: sukuna hates hugs … sorta ꨄ
deep sleeper: you love sleeping on sukuna’s throne. ꨄ
HIROMI HIGURUMA.
safe ‘n sound: sleeping on hiromi’s lap while he works. ꨄ
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© 2023-2024 SCREAMPIED. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work. all rights are rightfully reserved to me.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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A holiday criminal minds fic would be so cute! Like, Hotch’s wife decorated the office while they’re gone for a case. They have secret Santa and Rossi dresses up as a reindeer idk 😭 I just think it would be adorable!
making spirits bright
hehe had to slip some girl!dad aaron into this <3 cw; fem!reader, domestic fluff
upon entering the bullpen after returning to quantico, aaron was anticipating action reports, concluding paperwork, following up with the precinct to ensure the case was settled properly - a long afternoon, so to speak.
but there you were, sitting in jj's chair patiently waiting. he had called you before the jet had taken off that morning, sent you a quick text when they had landed, and had been already calculating the minutes until he made it home. needless to say, he hadn't needed to count very long, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the realization.
your eyes brightened at the sight of him, quickly getting to your feet.
"hi sweetheart," aaron's face softened, his hand finding your waist momentarily to pull you in for a kiss hello. he was pleasantly surprised, but his brows still furrowed briefly in confusion at your unexpected presence. "this is a nice surprise, what are you doing here?"
"don't be mad," your eyes were nothing short of mischievous; a fiery, excited glint to them - you had been up to something. after offering a quick wave to the team as they too trailed in, you grabbed his hand, not wasting a second to pull him up the few short stairs, "i sorta 'broke' into your office."
"alright..." he went willingly, but spoke with a touch of hesitancy - not knowing what he was about to walk into. the possibilities were endless, especially when it came to you.
you flicked the lights on in his office, and it was just how he had left it a few days prior. the only difference now, a small christmas tree was set in the corner near the window. it was adorned with multi-colored lights, a star perched on top, and handmade ornaments - made of paper, felt, accompanied by a few pipe-cleaner candy canes. they were messily made, as they were created by a seven year old, but each special in their own perfect way.
the two of you neared the tree, and you waited a second before speaking, allowing time for aaron to soak it in.
but even with the moment of silence, aaron was still lost for words. he turned to you, a quizzical yet awed expression plastered on his face.
"jack worked on those for about... a month i believe? while you've been away and whatnot. i'm a bit surprised he didn't slip up and spoil the surprise, he was really excited." you laughed softly, your expression simply lighting up more.
"oh and this," you reached out, touching a circular, clay ornament. one that featured the tiny hand of your daughter, only a few months old and about to experience her very first christmas. "courtesy of baby girl. there's also one on our tree back home too - with jack's baby handprint - but i thought you'd might like one here as well."
aaron laughed breathlessly, the smile on his face widening.
"what do ya think?" you shyly asked as your arms wrapped around aaron's middle, peering up at him eagerly and cutely.
"what do i think?" aaron tossed his go-bag onto the couch, allowing him to wrap both his arms right back around you. he was still a bit dumbstruck, his eyes continuing to scan the tree, finding something new at each glance. "this is... i truthfully don't even know what to say."
"i- we just wanted to bring some christmas cheer to your office," you said, turning back to his surprise, the lights illuminating you softly. "i know it can be dreary and depressing and it just feels so cozy at home with our family tree. but you miss it when you have your long days, so this way, you're not missing out."
"this is exactly what was needed." aaron kissed your temple, and then your lips once in reach as your face lifted towards him again. "thank you. i love it."
"good, i'm glad." you grinned, your hand grazing his torso before finding his tie, your fingers playing with the length of it gently.
"but, we do have a problem."
your face pulled into a sheepish yet witty look, pulling on his tie the smallest amount, "that i broke into your office?"
"no," aaron laughed, shaking his head. "you're welcome to break in any time. the problem is, now i'm going to have a tree in here all year round. how can i possibly take this down?"
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hottiesforhockey · 28 days ago
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underneath the tree ⎜j.hughes + l.hughes
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🎄pairings: jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: christmas special ⎜ romance ⎜ smut 🎄warnings: thigh riding ⎜ heavy petting ⎜ oral (f recieving) ⎜threesome...sorta...kinda? ⎜ there's kind of a hint of something between luke and reader 👀 ⎜luke is sick of the lovesick couple ⎜ luke showing jack how its done ⎜ fingering ⎜ 🎄synopsis: when luke comes home to catch you and his brother up to no good under the christmas tree - he decides to give jack's christmas present to you early. 🎄word count: 7k 🎄authors note:  this is the third post in the christmas special series! and definitely ended up a little longer then anticipated. feel free to check out the others already posted or the other upcoming fics : christmas specials
(unedited)
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“You can’t just throw the lights on top of the tree and hope for the best.” You sigh as you snatch the christmas lights from your boyfriend’s hands - demonstrating how to loop them around every branch to get the best coverage. 
“I never thought I’d be the one decorating to be fair - it’s usually Luke’s job.” Jack huffs in return. You roll your eyes as you glance up at the clock in the living room - Luke had promised to be home by eight thirty to help decorate the house for the christmas season, it was almost nine o’clock and he still hadn’t shown up. 
“Have we called him? What if he was in an accident?” You say, Jack waving you off as he continues looping the lights around the tree just like you showed him. 
“He’s fine, he said he was grabbing a few gifts on the way home and he always gets stuck when he goes shopping.” 
“Still, it’s not like him to be this late,” you mutter, biting your lip as you glance at your phone. No messages. No missed calls. A strange unease twists in your stomach, but you shake it off. Luke had a habit of losing track of time when he got into the holiday spirit.
“I’m sure he’ll walk through the door any minute now, arms full of bags and that goofy grin on his face,” Jack says, attempting to reassure you. But even as he speaks, you notice the slight furrow in his brow.
The two of you continue working in silence for a while, the soft hum of Christmas carols on the radio filling the room. The tree starts to come together beautifully—twinkling lights cascading perfectly over the branches, thanks to your precise instruction.
By the time the ornaments are unpacked and ready to go, it’s well past nine-thirty. The unease has grown into a dull throb in your chest. You can’t help but glance out the window every few minutes, hoping to see Luke’s car pull into the driveway.
“Maybe I should try calling him again,” you say, picking up your phone and scrolling to his name in your contacts. Jack pauses, an ornament in hand, and nods.
“Can’t hurt,” he says quietly, his usual teasing tone subdued.
You press the call button and hold the phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. Frowning, you hang up and try again, only to get the same result.
“He’s not answering,” you say, your voice tighter than you intended.
Jack sets down the ornament and walks over, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. He probably just lost track of time like I said. Let’s give it another half-hour, and if he’s still not back, we’ll go looking for him.”
You nod reluctantly, though the unease refuses to budge. Together, you and Jack hang the first few ornaments on the tree, the joy of decorating dampened by Luke’s absence.
“Maybe we can do something a little more… interesting while we wait.” Jack hints, raising his eyebrows in anticipation as you let out a scoff of laughter surprised but his suggestion. 
“Oh, so this is why you agreed to help decorate,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. Jack grins, leaning casually against the edge of the couch.
“Caught me,” he says with a shrug. “But come on, it’s better than sitting here staring at the clock, isn’t it? We’re just killing time until Luke gets back. Why not make it a little more fun?” You hesitate, glancing at your phone on the table. Luke’s absence still gnaws at the back of your mind, but Jack’s mischievous expression is infectious. Maybe he’s right—what’s the harm in a little distraction?
“All right,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “What did you have in mind?” Jack’s grin widens. 
“I knew you couldn’t resist. Let’s see... how about we start with a little wager? Whoever hangs the most ornaments in five minutes wins. Loser has to fulfil the other person’s wish.” You laugh despite yourself, already picturing Jack fumbling with ornaments in his rush. 
“You’re on,” you say, grabbing a handful of decorations and heading to the tree. Jack grabs his own pile and sets a timer on his phone. 
“Ready... set... go!” 
The two of you dive into the game, the tension from earlier fading into the background as you race to hang ornaments. Jack’s competitive streak kicks in immediately—he’s practically tossing ornaments onto the branches in his rush, while you focus on keeping yours evenly spaced and stylish.
“Careful,” you warn as Jack tries to hang a bauble too high and nearly knocks the star off the top of the tree. “If you break one, you’re automatically disqualified.”
Jack mutters something under his breath but adjusts his approach, all while shooting you a playful glare. The timer buzzes just as you’re reaching for your last ornament.
“Time’s up!” Jack announces triumphantly, stepping back to admire his handiwork—or rather, lack of it. Half his ornaments are clustered on one side of the tree, dangling precariously.
“Not bad,” you say, fighting back laughter. “If the theme was ‘Christmas chaos.’”
“Hey, it’s about quantity, not quality,” he retorts, counting his ornaments. “Twenty four. Beat that.” You let out a long sigh as you count your ornaments knowing you’re no where close to Jack’s debatable success. 
“Nineteen.” You hiss, your lips forming into a pout - Jack lets out a whoop of joy, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to your temple as he dances past you. “Okay, Cheater, what’s your wish?” You can’t fight the smile growing on your face as Jack slides up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you against him. 
“I want you to kiss me.” He whispers softly, “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He continues, his smile growing as he presses a kiss to your neck when you shiver in his arms. 
“You want to make out with me? That’s your wish?” You say tilting your head to give him better access to your sensitive skin, “You could ask me to do all your chores for the week, and instead you ask for a kiss?” 
Jack chuckles softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Chores aren’t nearly as fun, and besides," he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin, "this feels like a much better way to spend the evening." Your heart stutters as his hands slide over your waist, pulling you closer. The twinkling lights from the tree cast a warm glow over the room, but all you can focus on is the way Jack looks at you—like you’re the only thing that matters.
“You’re impossible,” you murmur, tilting your head as his lips press to the hollow of your throat. Your breath hitches at the soft, deliberate pressure. His fingers trace small circles against your lower back, his touch grounding but electric all at once.
“And yet, you’re still here,” he whispers against your skin, his voice low and intimate. “Not stopping me.”
You try to muster some kind of retort, but the words melt away as Jack leans back slightly, catching your gaze. His eyes flicker to your lips, and in that moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist. Slowly, achingly slowly, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours in the lightest, teasing touch.
It’s not enough—not nearly enough.
You close the distance, capturing his mouth in a kiss that’s anything but shy. Jack responds immediately, his hands tightening on your waist as he deepens the kiss, coaxing you into a rhythm that’s both tender and demanding. His lips are warm and soft, his movements deliberate as if savouring every second.
One of his hands slides up your back, threading into your hair, while the other keeps you anchored firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours is intoxicating, and the taste of him—the faint hint of cinnamon from the mulled cider earlier—sends your senses reeling.
Jack shifts, pressing you gently against the edge of the couch as his kisses trail from your mouth to the curve of your jaw, then down the line of your neck. He lingers there, his lips and tongue exploring the sensitive skin, drawing soft gasps from you with every touch.
“Jack,” you manage to breathe, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to steady yourself. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark and filled with something that makes your stomach flip.
“What?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Too much?”
You shake your head, your cheeks flushed and your pulse racing. “Not even close,” you whisper, pulling him back into another kiss. This time it’s hungrier, more insistent, the kind of kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how badly you want him. His hands explore your sides, your back, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touches. Time feels suspended as the two of you lose yourselves in each other, the earlier tension replaced by an overwhelming, magnetic pull.
When you finally part, your breathing is uneven, and your heart pounds in your chest. Jack presses his forehead to yours, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “Satisfied?” You whisper into the space between you, Jacks head shaking as he pulls you with him as he falls back onto the couch. 
“Not even close.” He groans, mimicking your words from earlier - his hands gripping your waist as you straddle his thighs. Jack’s lips find your again, his fingers digging into your sides as your hips slowly roll forwards, your arms looping around his neck.
Just as your lips part, Jack’s hands tightening on your waist, the sound of the front door creaking open shatters the moment. You both freeze, heads snapping toward the noise. Luke’s voice echoes through the hallway, laced with a familiar blend of frustration and something that almost sounds... hopeful.
“Why’s it so dark in here? Did you two forget how light switches work, or—oh.”
Luke stops in his tracks as he steps into the living room, his arms full of shopping bags. His eyes lock onto you, perched on Jack’s lap, your faces flushed and breaths uneven. The warm glow of the Christmas lights does little to mask the intimacy of the moment.
For a heartbeat, no one moves. Luke’s gaze flicks between you and Jack, the tension in his posture unmistakable. The bags in his hands crinkle as he tightens his grip, his jaw clenching.
“Luke!” you exclaim, scrambling off Jack’s lap, your cheeks burning. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
“Clearly,” Luke says, his tone sharp, though there’s a slight waver in his voice. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Jack sighs, standing and rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not interrupting, Luke. Relax.”
Luke’s eyes narrow, his gaze settling on you for a beat longer than comfortable. “Sure doesn’t look that way.”
“Come on, don’t start,” Jack says, his voice firm but not unkind. He steps closer to his younger brother, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re late, and we’ve been trying to finish the tree without you.”
“I can see that,” Luke mutters, shrugging off Jack’s hand. His eyes flick to you again, softer this time, a mixture of longing and hurt flashing across his face before he looks away.
You shift uncomfortably, the weight of the situation settling in. Luke had always been sweet to you—offering to help with chores, finding excuses to spend time around you, and sometimes even going out of his way to get your favourite snacks. At first, you thought it was just him being polite, but over time, it became hard to ignore the lingering looks and the way his face would light up when you smiled at him.
Jack, of course, seemed blissfully unaware of his younger brother’s crush, even teasing him about being “the baby” of the family. 
— or so you thought. 
Now, though, standing in the awkward silence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Luke’s crush had become more complicated.
“Luke,” you start gently, taking a step toward him. “We were just messing around, trying to make decorating a little more fun. We didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to what?” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve ever heard it. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the usual warmth in them is replaced with something raw. “Didn’t mean for me to walk in on you two... like that?”
“Hey,” Jack interjects, stepping between you and Luke, his tone defensive. “Watch it. Don’t take your anger out on her.”
Luke’s mouth snaps shut, but his glare shifts to Jack. “Of course, you’d defend her,” he mutters bitterly, his voice barely audible.
“Because she’s my girlfriend,” Jack says firmly, his hand resting protectively on your back. “And you’re my brother. What’s going on with you, Luke? You’ve been weird for weeks.” Luke lets out a long sigh, dropping his shopping bags to the floor before crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 
“Jack, it’s fine.” You say softly, reaching out for your boyfriends hand, “He didn’t mean any—” 
“Yes he did.” Jack interrupts, “He’s been weird since I asked him to help me with your christmas present.” Jack says scowling at his younger brother. The two Hughes lock in a tense conversation with their eyes - your gaze flicking between the two in confusion. 
“What? What are you talking about?” You question, your gaze settling on your boyfriend. 
“She didn’t even know about it?” Luke sneers at his brother - his eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise as he removes himself from the staring contest with Jack - his gaze sliding over your confused face. 
Jack shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence faltering. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze. “It was just an idea I had for your gift. But Luke... didn’t exactly take it well.”
“Jack,” you say slowly, stepping closer. “What idea? What’s going on?”
Luke crosses his arms tightly over his chest, glaring at his older brother. “Go ahead,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Tell her. Let her hear this brilliant plan of yours.”
Jack exhales heavily, clearly frustrated. “I thought it would be... meaningful. Special. Something different from the usual gifts,” he begins hesitantly, his eyes flicking toward you before quickly looking away again. “I asked Luke to... spend a night with you. If you wanted to.”
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of the Christmas lights. You blink, processing what he’s just said. “Spend a night with me?” you repeat, your voice soft but steady.
Jack nods, his cheeks flushing as he finally meets your gaze. “I know it sounds... unconventional. But I wanted to give you something that showed how much I trust you, how much I trust us. You’ve always been close with Luke, and I thought... maybe it could be something we all share. If you’re okay with it.”
Your stomach flutters—not with discomfort, but with intrigue. You glance at Luke, who’s staring at Jack like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and then back at Jack, whose expression is a mix of vulnerability and nervousness.
“Jack,” you say carefully, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you serious?” He nods, his voice firm despite the tension in the room. 
“Only if it’s something you’d want. I’d never push you into anything, and if you’re not into the idea, that’s totally fine. But I thought... maybe.”
Luke lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious.”
“I think he is,” you murmur, your gaze still on Jack. His sincerity is unmistakable, and the thought of his trust—and Luke’s involvement—sends a curious warmth coursing through you.
You take a slow step toward Luke, your pulse quickening as his eyes snap to yours. “What about you?” you ask softly. “How do you feel about it?”
Luke’s mouth opens, then closes again as he searches for words. “I... don’t know,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This isn’t exactly something I ever thought about. And honestly, I’m not sure I believe Jack’s really okay with it.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t,” Jack interjects firmly, his gaze flicking to his brother. “Look, I know this is weird, but I trust both of you. I love her, and you’re my brother. I thought... maybe this could be something meaningful for all of us.”
Your heart races as you glance between the two brothers, their contrasting expressions—Jack’s cautious hope, Luke’s guarded confusion—only adding to the charged atmosphere. You step closer to Jack, resting a hand on his arm.
“You’re sure about this?” you ask softly, searching his eyes.
He nods, his hand covering yours. “Only if you are. This is about what you want.”
You turn back to Luke, who’s watching you with a mixture of uncertainty and something deeper—something almost longing. “And you?” you ask again, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. “Would you be okay with it?”
Luke hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor before slowly returning to yours. “I don’t want to make things weird between us,” he admits. “But if this is really what you both want...” His voice trails off, leaving the unspoken possibilities hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, your decision crystallising as you glance between them. 
“I think...” you begin, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’d like to try.”
Jack exhales, relief washing over his features, while Luke’s expression shifts to one of stunned disbelief.
“Seriously?” Luke asks, his voice cracking slightly.
You nod, stepping closer to him. “Only if you’re okay with it,” you assure him. “But yeah. I think I’d like to see where this goes.”
Luke glances at Jack, as if seeking confirmation, and Jack nods firmly. “She’s serious,” Jack says. “And so am I.” The tension in the room shifts, giving way to something warmer, more electric. As the three of you stand there, the possibilities of what comes next hanging in the air, you can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and anticipation
Luke exhales slowly, his expression shifting from disbelief to cautious consideration. His eyes flick between you and Jack, the charged silence thickening. Jack steps closer, placing a steadying hand on your back, his touch grounding as he glances at his brother.
“Luke,” Jack says softly, his tone more relaxed now. “This isn’t about pushing boundaries or making things weird. It’s about trust. And... about her.” His gaze moves to you, warm and protective. “If she’s open to it, I am too. And I think, deep down, you’ve been curious too.”
Luke swallows hard, clearly at war with himself. Finally, he nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Alright,” he says, his voice low but steady. “But only if this is what you want.” His eyes lock on yours, his sincerity striking.
You smile softly, stepping forward to close the gap between you and Luke. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” you assure him. Then, turning your head slightly, you glance back at Jack.  The weight of the moment settles over the three of you, the air crackling with an intensity that feels both thrilling and vulnerable. Slowly, you step closer to Luke, the uncertainty in his expression giving way to something warmer. You reach out, your hand brushing against his cheek, and he freezes for a moment before leaning into your touch.
Luke nods slightly, convincing himself that this is really happening, his eyes flicking to Jack’s before returning to yours. He leans forward, hesitating just a fraction before his lips meet yours. The kiss is tentative at first, soft and searching, but it deepens as you respond, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging on the ends of his curls as he pulls your closer to him - his hands knotted in your shirt.
Behind you, Jack’s hands slide down your arms, his touch both reassuring and suggestive. When Luke pulls back, his breathing uneven, Jack presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips warm against your skin.
“You okay?” Jack murmurs, his voice close to your ear.
You nod, your breath hitching as you look between them. “Better than okay,” you whisper.
Luke’s expression softens, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “This still feels... surreal,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of wonder and hesitation.
Jack chuckles softly, his tone light but teasing. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, his arm sliding around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.  Luke’s lips twitch into a tentative smile, “Yeah,” he says quietly. 
As the three of you stand there, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over the room, the boundaries between you blur, giving way to something deeper, more intimate. Your gaze snaps away from Luke’s as you both turn to look at Jack who steps away from the two of you. 
“Alright, well I’ll leave you to it.” Jack jokes lightly, clasping his hands together, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He warns his younger brother, whose mouth falls open as his brothers attempted retreat. 
Luke’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jack by the arm before he can leave. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Luke says, his voice low but firm. His grip tightens just enough to make Jack pause. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, half amused, half surprised. “What? Thought you’d wanted me out of the way.”
Luke smirks, an edge of confidence creeping into his expression. “Not anymore. You started this, Jack. You don’t get to walk away now.” His words are calm but carry a deliberate challenge that makes Jack hesitate.
You glance between them, your pulse quickening as the tension shifts again, this time carrying a playful undercurrent. “Luke’s got a point,” you chime in, your voice soft but teasing. “You can’t just drop this bomb and then vanish.”
Jack tilts his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I can’t?” he teases, his tone light but his eyes glinting with something sharper.
Luke steps closer, his grin widening as he stands toe-to-toe with his older brother. “Not unless you’re scared,” he taunts, his voice dripping with mock bravado.
Jack scoffs, rolling his eyes but clearly enjoying the game. “Scared? Of you?” He gestures vaguely in your direction, his grin turning wicked. “I just figured I’d give you two some space. But if you need me to show you how it’s done...” He trails off, shrugging dramatically.  Jack exhales slowly, his gaze locking with yours for a long moment before shifting to Luke.
Luke watches the exchange carefully, his arms still crossed but his posture relaxing. “You sure you’re up for this, Jack?” he asks, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.
Jack smirks, his confidence returning in full force. “Please,” he says, stepping closer to you and sliding an arm around your waist. “I think the real question is—are you?”
Luke lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Cocky as ever,” he mutters, but there’s a warmth in his tone now, a subtle shift in the dynamic between the three of you.
As the Christmas lights twinkle in the background, the room seems to hum with an energy that’s both thrilling and tender. Whatever comes next, you know it’s something none of you will forget.
Luke watches Jack closely, his smirk fading into something softer. “Alright,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, as if he’s surrendering to the moment. “Let’s see if you can back up all that talk.”
Jack chuckles, but it’s less sharp now, his usual cocky confidence tempered by the weight of what’s unfolding. His gaze shifts to you, and he presses a lingering kiss to your temple, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. “You okay with this?” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring.
You nod, your heart racing but not from nerves—from excitement. “Yeah,” you say softly. “You two can stop asking me that now.”
Luke steps closer, his hesitance melting away as he mirrors Jack’s careful movements. He brushes a hand along your arm, his touch light and tentative, as though he’s testing the waters. When you glance up at him, he meets your gaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “It’s about continuous consent, this stops the second you say so.” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sure,” you reply, and you reach out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Jack doesn’t let the moment linger too long. “See, Luke?” he says lightly, his tone edging back into playfulness. “Told you she’d be into it.”
Luke rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Part of my charm,” Jack shoots back with a grin, his other hand sliding along your waist as he pulls you closer.
The charged air between the three of you grows heavier, the lines blurring even more as you feel Luke’s hand brush against your back. He’s still cautious, like he’s waiting for a signal that it’s okay to let go, to fully step into this strange, uncharted space the three of you have found yourselves in. Jack notices the hesitation and chuckles softly.
 “Relax, Luke. You’re not going to break her.” His voice is warm, teasing but kind, and it seems to put Luke at ease. With that, Luke leans in, his lips finding yours again. This time, the kiss is more confident, his movements less uncertain as his hands settle on your waist. Jack’s presence is grounding, his steady touch a constant reminder of the trust you all share.
Jack grins, clearly satisfied, while Luke’s expression softens, his usual sharp edges replaced with something vulnerable and new. The room feels smaller now, the three of you wrapped in a moment that’s equal parts thrilling and overwhelming. Luke’s voice breaks the silence, his tone lighter now but still tinged with disbelief. 
“This is... not how I thought tonight would go.”
Jack laughs, his hand resting on Luke’s shoulder. “Welcome to life with her,” he says, his gaze full of affection as he looks at you. “Never boring.” Jacks pulls your hair away from your shoulders, taking a step back and making his way over to the couch, perching on one of the cushions as he speaks, “Baby, you should tell him all about that thing you wanted to try.” 
Luke’s eyes leave his brother as he tilts his head down to look at you, his hands leaving your waist to gently cup the underside of your jaw, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he takes you in. He raises a questioning brow as you hesitate, the ghost of a smile on his lips. 
“I like your thighs.” You blurt out - Jack letting out a bark of laughter as your words linger. 
“And what do you want me to do with this information?” Luke questions back. 
“I want to ride them.”  
Luke blinks at your bluntness, his grip on your jaw faltering for a split second before his lips quirk into an amused smirk. His eyes glint with both surprise and intrigue as he leans slightly closer. “Is that right?” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave.
Jack’s laugh subsides into a low chuckle, and he shakes his head, clearly entertained. “Well, she doesn’t beat around the bush,” he says, reclining further into the couch with an easy confidence. “Guess you’ve got your work cut out for you, little brother.”
Luke’s gaze flickers briefly to Jack, a hint of competitiveness in his expression, before returning to you. “I think I can handle it,” he says, his voice steady but laced with playful challenge. His hands slide from your face to your hips, steadying you as he takes a slow step back toward the couch.  The weight of Luke’s hands on your hips is grounding, and the anticipation coursing through you feels electric.
Luke sits down, his broad frame sinking into the cushions as he watches you with a mix of curiosity and confidence. His legs part slightly, and he pats one of his thighs, the smirk never leaving his face. “Alright, then. Show me what you’ve got.”
Jack whistles low, clearly enjoying the shift in dynamic. “This should be good,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone—just a genuine appreciation for the moment unfolding.
You step closer to Luke, your pulse quickening as his hands find your waist again. He steadies you as you move to straddle one of his thighs, the firmness of his muscle beneath you sending a thrill through your body. Luke’s hands remain on your hips, guiding you gently but firmly as you settle in.
“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice softer now, the teasing edge giving way to something more genuine.
“Very,” you reply, your breath hitching as you shift slightly against him. The friction is tantalising, and you bite your lip, meeting his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression a mix of concentration and curiosity as he watches you move.
Jack’s voice cuts through the tension, smooth and teasing. “Don’t go easy on him, baby.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes, his presence adding another layer of heat to the moment.
Luke exhales a shaky breath, his hands tightening on your hips as you grind against him, the flimsy material of your pyjama shorts bunching up around your hips as you move. “You’re... full of surprises,” he mutters, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and amusement.
You lean forward, your hands resting on his shoulders as you press your lips to his ear. “And the nights just getting started,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.
Luke’s breath catches, and his grip on you steadies. Luke exhales deeply, his hands firming on your hips as if to anchor himself in the moment. His thigh shifts slightly beneath you, and the subtle motion sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. His gaze locks with yours, his expression softening into something more intimate, more vulnerable.
“Just getting started, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a mixture of teasing and wonder. His hands slide from your hips to your waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “Guess I better keep up.”
From the couch, Jack’s low chuckle breaks the silence. “You’re doing fine so far, Luke. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable. She’s got high standards.” His tone is light, but the warmth in his voice is unmistakable.
You glance over your shoulder at Jack, his relaxed posture contrasting with the heat in his eyes as he watches you and Luke. The weight of his gaze sends another thrill through you, and you turn back to Luke, emboldened. Your hands slide up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you lean in closer.
“I don’t think he’ll disappoint,” you murmur, your lips hovering just over his. Luke’s breath hitches again - a part of him still in disbelief that his brothers girlfriend is currently on top of him -  his grip on your waist tightening as he closes the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s more confident now, more consuming.
You let out a soft moan against his lips as you feel Luke’s thigh tense below you, his muscles hard and rigid beneath you as he pushes you further down onto his leg - a part of you glad for your choice to go commando in your pyjamas tonight - your clit rubbing deliciously against the rough fabric of his sweatpants. 
“Fuck, Luke.” You hiss as his lips leave yours, pressing soft kisses against your neck as you throw your head back, his hands smoothing up from your hands until they slip under your hoodie, your bearskin breaking out in goosebumps as he stops just under the curve of your breasts. He finds the junction of your jaw sucking sharply as your hips start to falter on his hips. 
“She’s close.” Jack notes, sounding nothing more then a curious spectator as he watches - You can feel Luke smile against your neck as he lifts his thumbs, to graze over your nipples - the ever so soft stimulation pushing you over the edge, as your teeth sink into your lip - your eyes slamming shut as you let out a whispered whine as your orgasm rushes over you. 
Your body trembles against Luke’s, the aftermath of your release leaving you breathless and lightheaded. Luke’s hands steady you, his touch firm but comforting as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. There’s a softness in his expression now, a quiet awe that contrasts with the intensity of moments before.
“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low and tinged with concern.
You nod, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you murmur, your voice still a little unsteady.
Jack leans back against the couch, his arms stretched along the backrest, his grin equal parts smug and affectionate. “Told you she’d enjoy herself,” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “Didn’t expect you to handle it so well, though, Luke.”
Luke snorts, shaking his head as he glances over at his brother. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”
Jack shrugs, his grin widening. “Just keeping you on your toes.”
You let out a soft laugh, the playful banter between the brothers grounding you in the moment. As your breathing steadies, you shift slightly, slipping off Luke’s thigh to sit beside him. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist, pulling you close as Jack watches with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.
“Well,” Jack says after a moment, his voice light but his gaze lingering on you. “That was fun.”
Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glance between the two brothers, their contrasting demeanours—Luke’s cautious curiosity and Jack’s confident mischief—only adding to the heady anticipation building between you.
“Why are you saying that like I’m even remotely finished.” Luke asks his brother, his voice soft but steady.
Jack’s grin turns wicked, his eyes glinting with playful intent. “Oh,” he says, pushing off the couch and stepping closer. He crouches in front of you, his hand brushing against your knee as his gaze locks with yours. “Well do continue.” You bite your lip, the thrill of the unknown sending a shiver through you. Luke’s hand tightens slightly on your waist, his expression serious but supportive.  Jack’s grin softens into something more genuine, and he leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the arm of the couch - his gaze wandering over you. 
Luke rolls his eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Go sit in front of Jack, get comfortable,” he mutters, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. The atmosphere between the three of you shifts once again, the room humming with an unspoken energy as the possibilities of the night stretch out before you.
You shuffle away from Luke, smiling as you slip yourself between Jack’s thighs, his arms wrapping around your torso to you back against him - his lips pressing a kiss into your hair. Luke takes a big breath before he turns towards the two of you - pulling himself onto his knees as his hands reach for the waistband on your shorts. “Do you mind?” He questions, waiting for the shake of your head before he slowly starts slipping them down your legs - your hips raising to help slip the shorts off. 
“No underwear?” Jack whispers from behind you, “Naughty, I like it.” He grins. The two of you watch Luke move, the younger boy shuffling further back on the couch  - his hand wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you down the couch with him, his body lying flat on the cushions until you line up with his mouth. 
Your lean your head back against Jacks abdomen looking up at him in surprise as he shoots your a soft grin. “Watch him, not me.” He whispers, pushing your hair away from your face, “tonight is for you, baby.” Your eyes lower back to Luke, his hands lifting your thighs till they sit comfortably over his shoulders, his hot breath teasing against you. 
“You’re so wet.” He mumbles, your pussy glistening in front of him, as he leans forwards to swipe his tongue against you. Luke lets out a low groan as the taste of your hits his tongue, his fingers digging into your thighs as his mouth latches onto you - his tongue flicking against your clit as your breath catches in your throat. 
“Oh, shit.” You curse, one hand gripping the forearm Jack has around your torso, your other hand sliding into Luke’s curls as he sucks on you - the almost silent room filling with the lewd sounds of Luke’s mouth working. Luke’s teeth graze against you as your hips buck, his fingers sliding against your slit as he gathers your moisture before teasing his fingers at the entrance of your cunt. 
“If I died right now, I’d die a happy man.” Luke jokes, as his fingers slip inside of you - your head tilting further back against your boyfriend as you let out a shaky exhale. Jack just chuckles at his brother, his hands lifting your shirt until your breasts fall free, Luke eyes darting up to his brother before dropping back down to your tight nipples. 
“Finish the job, Lukey.” Jack says, an invitation, as Luke doesn’t waste his chance to lean forwards, sucking your right nipple into his mouth - his fingers working inside of you at a steady pace, your hips bucking as he brushes the spot inside of you that you can never seem to reach on your own. 
Lukes mouth leaves your nipple, the cold air hitting your wet flesh as he moves to suck the other nipple - your back arching at the overstimulation. “Come for us, baby.” Jack whispers into your ear, Luke adding a third finger as his thumb joins to rub soft circles against your clit - your thighs fighting against Luke’s body still slipped between them, wanting desperately to slam shut. 
You know both of the brothers as smiling as you come down from your orgasm, your chest heaving as Luke leans forwards to capture your lips one more time - his kiss gentle but all consuming as he seems to eat every whine that leaves you as his fingers slow their movements. 
“Merry Christmas.” Jack says as Luke pulls his fingers from you, your cunt clenching around the emptiness as he dips them into his mouth. 
“Merry Christmas.” Luke responds, a shit eating grin on his face. 
+
+
The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The quiet hum of the world waking up outside was a stark contrast to the tangled intimacy of the night before. You stretched lazily, the ache in your thighs and the lingering warmth in your chest a reminder of the boundaries you’d crossed—or perhaps, dismantled entirely.
Jack was still sprawled on your mattress, his arm draped over his face, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips even in rest. You leaned over pressing a soft kiss against your boyfriend’s cheek before slipping out of bed quietly, tugging one of Jack’s oversized shirts over your head and padding softly into the kitchen. The mundane act of making coffee was grounding, the hiss of the machine and the rich aroma filling the room like a balm. You were pouring a second cup when you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you.
“Morning.” Luke’s voice was husky with sleep, his hair a disheveled mess as he leaned against the counter. His eyes met yours, a flicker of uncertainty there, but also something warmer, deeper.
“Morning,” you replied, handing him a cup. The silence stretched for a moment, comfortable but charged, until Luke broke it.
“Last night…” He trailed off, his fingers tightening around the mug. “I mean, are we… okay? Are you okay?”
You smiled softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m okay. Are you?”
He nodded, his expression lightening. “Yeah, just… trying to wrap my head around everything. It’s not every day your brother ropes you into something like this.”
Jack chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen, shirtless and unapologetic. “Something like what?” he teased, his grin wide and shameless as he grabbed the mug you’d prepared for him. “Don’t tell me you’re already overthinking it, Luke.”
Luke shot him a glare, but there was no real venom behind it. “I’m not overthinking it. Just… processing.”
Jack’s gaze softened slightly, though his smirk remained. “Good. Processing is fine. But let’s not turn this into something weird, alright? Last night happened because we all wanted it to. Nobody was coerced, nobody’s regretting anything.” He glanced at you, his tone turning more serious. “Right?”
You shook your head. “No regrets.”
Luke exhaled a quiet laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Okay, no regrets.” He agrees, his gaze trained on you as you turn to greet his older brother, Jack pulling you in for a long kiss, your bodies swaying together as you let out a light laugh - Luke just watches,  his arms tingling with the phantom wish of being able to hold you the way his brother does. 
“So what’s the plan for today?” Jack breaks the silence, turning you in his arms to face his younger brother, “Round two?” He teases with a laugh, both you and Luke letting out a groan at the same time. 
344 notes · View notes
diremoone · 1 year ago
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the door with the floral wreath | r. sukuna
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when sukuna gets a new neighbor on the third floor of his apartment complex, he’s pleasantly surprised to see who it is behind the door with the floral wreath. her two cats on the other hand, are a massive fucking problem.
w — honestly nothing? save for fluff and some cussing, slowburn-ish, implied boxer & sorta rich! Sukuna, implied polyglot(ish)! reader, cat! Satoru and cat! Suguru and both cats being in love, cozy themed again (I can’t help it), the formatting of this “fic” was how it was in my brain so I’m sorry if it’s a lil strange haha, this apparently became longer than I originally anticipated lmao, reader is mentioned to be partially Japanese but no physical appearances are ultimately described, mild angst at the end
a/n: not apart of the ‘make me (yours)’ universe but it’s definitely inspired by it
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🌸 When Sukuna wakes up on a Saturday morning and opens his front door to leave for his morning run, the last thing he expects to see is a floral wreath on the door opposite of his. That can only mean one thing: someone has moved in. But if someone has, then why hasn’t he seen or heard the furniture being moved in? These aren’t exactly the cheapest apartments, so did they just not have anything?
It was weird, to say the least.
🌸 However, three months pass before he gets to see who the person who’s behind the door across from his.
🌸 Sukuna gets back from his jog a little early, the light sprinkles of rain turning into a downpour. That’s when he sees you leaving your apartment, locking the door to leave. Unfortunately, you’re not paying too much attention to your surroundings, and you two nearly collide into one another at the top of the stairs.
You narrowly turn in time to place yourself flat against the wall to avoid the behemoth of a man that was your neighbor from running over you and sending you both down the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” came your instant apology.
“It’s fine,” follows his gruff reply.
But he knows he certainly wouldn’t mind running into you again. Just not where you two can fall down the stairs and potentially break your necks.
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On a random day not too long after your initial run-in (and near subsequent dangerous tumble down some stairs), you two run into one another to get the mail at the front office.
You pop up behind him right after he opens his mailbox, staring up at him and his very impressive height and build and apparently scare him, because when you speak next, his shoulders jump. “Gosh, you’re tall. You must’ve played basketball or something in high school, yeah?”
He would’ve either been silent or retort something in an asshole tone like he was used to. He just didn’t like people.
He would’ve, if it wasn’t his cute neighbor.
“Volleyball,” he replies quietly. “Quit after graduation.”
You frown. “That sucks. You must’ve been good at it.”
“It was a pastime.”
“Sounds fun though,” you chirp, putting your own key into your mailbox. “I tried to get into sports, but uh, lack of things made it hard to do so. Did track for awhile, until my ribs couldn’t keep up.”
Sukuna lets out a snort but says nothing further. He goes to leave, but not before hearing, “G’bye, neighbor!”
Ah, shit. He hadn’t told you his name, had he?
Hopefully, there would be a next time.
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🌸 Sukuna doesn’t see you again for another month or two after that, fate still having you two separated like an awful slowburn romance.
🌸 What he doesn’t like in particular is the fact you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours. He doesn’t like that; doesn’t like that he’s missed his chance to know you a little better. By his logic, he should know your name, have your phone number, and have at least had you on a date and in his bed at least once already.
🌸 Come early December, he hears your door begin to open and close a lot. It becomes annoying, very very annoying, very very quickly.
That goes on almost until Christmas time.
Until one day he manages to catch the little reasons why your door has been slamming shut so much.
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Twerp Number One wriggles in his hold as he holds them both up to eye level. She grunts and huffs at him. “Put me down!”
To which he scoffs at. “And why should I do that?”
Just as Twerp Number Two decides to speak, your door opens. This time it’s you.
“You can let them down,” you say, clearly amused. “They’ve come for cookies.”
Sukuna grunts. “So that’s why they’re always slamming the door.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve tried to get them to stop. They are six, though.” As genuine as your apology is, Sukuna can see the little twinkle of mischievousness appear at the end of your sentence in defense of the two twerps.
“Mr. Sukuna is a big grump anyway!” the oddly-orange-haired girl says. “At least that’s what my mama says.”
“Nobara, you shouldn’t be calling people names,” you scold the girl. “Put them down so they can get some cookies and head back, please. I’m sure Nobara’s mom is wondering about them. Nobara, the white box is for you to take home.”
Sukuna begrudgingly obliges. Nobara and her friend barge inside your home. The door stays open thanks to a cold breeze, allowing for the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls to drift outside and into his nose. And damn does it smell nice.
“So, I finally know your name,” you muse.
“Ryomen Sukuna,” he says, half-correcting you, “but everyone just calls me by my first name.”
“I can see why,” you reply in a joking tone and smile. “But yeah… It fits you. I’m [Name], and pretty much the same: everyone calls me by my first name. Since my last name isn’t exactly normal, you know… Since I’m not inherently from Japan.”
Sukuna’s brows raise. “You’ve lived here before?” he asks.
“My mom is [part/full] Japanese,” you admit. And then to his surprise, you ramble on further, “I’ve popped around, uh, a few countries over the last several years of my life, Japan included. I’ve just… never stayed in one place to technically be from somewhere. I was born in the States, but… I don’t, uh, really feel like I actually am from there… Does that make any sense?”
“It does.” But he doesn’t go into his backstory in return. And thankfully, you don’t seem to mind, just about as much as you minded sharing such a part of your life to someone who’s technically nothing more than a stranger to you, not in the slightest.
Nobara pops back out with her friend, who’s just a touch older than her.
“Thank you for the cookies and cimmanom rolls, Miss [Name]!” Nobara says.
You don’t bother to correct her cute mistake. “You’re very welcome, Nobara. Now head home. Goodnight, girls.”
“Goodnight!”
You watch the girls descend, and when they’re out of sight, you listen carefully for the telltale of their first floor door closing. And when it thuds shut loud enough to wake everyone in the apartments in the block, you turn your attention back to the gigantic man that was your next door neighbor… Who’s attention was on your door, more than likely concentrating on the smell in your kitchen.
Your lips curl up and you prevent a giggle. “You want some?”
Your voice snaps him from his stupor. “What? Want what?”
“Some cookies and cimmanom rolls?” you question, cutely reiterating Nobara’s mistake.
“Uh…”
He takes too long to answer, so you decide for him. “I’ll get you some anyway.”
You go back inside, leaving him out in the cold. But you don’t take very long and come back out not even two minutes later with another white box and place it into his hands.
“Well,” you say, teeth chattering from the cold. “It’s nice finally knowing your name, neighbor. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon… Goodnight.”
He barely gets out a “goodnight” before you close the door. Sukuna tosses his head back and settles for a heavy exhale rather than the audible sigh he knows you would’ve heard through your door.
Another fuck up. But at least he got some food out of it this time.
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🌸 You both end up meeting each other a lot more often by “coincidence” after that, like fate has finally determined you’re allowed to see one another or something. (To him that just sounds stupid, until it comes out of your mouth.)
For Christmas, you end up gifting him a tin of popcorn and another box of sweets by leaving them at a front door with a cute handwritten note.
🌸 Gradually, the two of you begin to interact more, and naturally gravitate toward each other’s energy and finally getting to know one another; he’s over at your apartment most of the time, it’s cleaner and smells at lot more nice than his (in his opinion). It’s not that he’s dirty, he’s quite clean actually. It’s just that he prefers your apartment to his.
🌸 You find out that Sukuna is about ten years older than you, and was almost a volleyball player that almost went pro, had it not been for his father’s death. He lost all motivation for the sport, and eventually settled for doing numbers for his father’s company, taking up boxing as a side hobby. To which he was more than good at.
A year ago, he moved into these apartments, getting away from the corporate world had had dived into, opting to do things from home rather than in-person. His prior neighbors never stayed around for too long, not with the amount of noise coming from his apartment in the middle of the night. You’re honestly surprised the person below him hasn’t moved out yet either.
🌸 For Sukuna, he finds out that you almost didn’t get to graduate high school because of how much you’d been moving around. You’d gotten depression from leaving so many friends behind so often that you just made graduation by the skin of your teeth.
Now, you’re online for college, majoring in linguistics, all while working as a translator for a special needs school of Japanese children that are deaf. Through that, he finds out you speak several different languages as well.
God, your personality is just as sweet as the goodies you bake, huh?
🌸 There is one problem, however, when he comes over: your goddamn cats.
🌸 The white Maine Coon is for sure out to get him and make his life miserable, with his attempts at wooing you almost a failed attempt every single time. His name is Satoru, and he’s by far the most obnoxious cat he’s ever fucking met.
Why on Earth you’d give a cat a human name is beyond him. But the again, the fucking cat acts so human it’s disturbing — it almost kind of makes sense.
🌸 Satoru’s claws almost end up in his ass every time he walks through the front door. He can’t even stand openly, but has to stay against a wall or sit on the couch so the cat doesn’t get his claws into his backside. And he can tell that that damn cat has a smug-ass smirk on his face every time. How a cat can smirk, he’s unsure; but he just knows that the look on his face is the one of a smug little shithead that knows he’s gotten away with being a menace. Thankfully, you’re aware of his tendencies and can tell when he’s being more of an asshole than other times and get onto him.
🌸 The black Maine Coon, Suguru, isn’t as terrible, but he opts to creepily stare down at Sukuna from his cat tower rather than be proactive in his distaste. He studies him every second every time he comes over, paying attention to every single detail and movement Sukuna makes with you.
He’ll do things more subtly than his white counterpart, like “accidentally” wave his long, black fluffy tail into his cup of water you gave him. He’s just as much of a menace, although you don’t get onto him as often like the white one, because while you know Satoru is more of an extroverted menace, you just seemingly can’t see that Suguru is just as awful. (Mostly because you don’t actually see it.)
🌸 This goes on for months and months, Satoru scratching the behind of his pants as hard as he can to make it rip and getting white fur all over his clothes, and Suguru glaring down at him from his tower and putting his paws in Sukuna’s food. Although it becomes a little less as often because they’re seemingly growing used to him, as if they’re seeing that he actually makes you happy and finally get the sense that he isn’t just going to break your heart and throw you away.
🌸 And the growing approval of your cats seems to mean a lot to you.
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“I picked them up off the streets,” you tell him after he asks about where you got the inseparable pair. “I found them as kittens in a cardboard box three years ago on the streets, drenched and matted in dirt and nasty water.”
You remember the day very clearly. It had just stopped raining, and just as you were about to head home, stopping at the vending machines before heading to your car, you heard animal-like cries of something small and weak. And sure enough, on the other side of the food machine, stuffed away in a tacky, ruined cardboard box, were two, rain-drenched kittens huddled together to keep warm.
That was the day you got two new cats, two new responsibilities. And although times got hard a few times, you’ve never regretted adopting them.
Sukuna gazes up at the two cats on the tower, sitting next to each other in the bed at the top. Their tails are intertwined, heads rubbing at each other’s necks lovingly. He would have never guessed that’s where you found them. From the looks of it, they he would’ve guessed they’d came from a pet store.
“So you’ve raised them since they were kittens,” Sukuna says. “They trust you with their lives. And looks like they love you unconditionally, too.”
“I’d like to think so,” you muse, sipping on your coffee. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it with how ornery they are.”
Sukuna keeps his eyes trained on the two cats in love. He’s slightly jealous, and no he’ll never admit it. He just hopes he can have that one day with you.
He just has to stop Satoru from ripping him a new one every time he comes through the door.
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🌸 Your cats eventually grow fond of having him over, fond enough that they’re not being the usual mischievous selves when Sukuna puts his arm around your shoulders and tugs you closer to him when you invite him over for movie nights, not trying to bite his fingers off (Satoru) or sit between you both (Suguru).
🌸 After a year passes and you and Sukuna know each other, he finally gets to take you on a proper date after manning up. Although it’s not a restaurant date, since he knows you hate being looked at while eating. It’s a picnic by the ocean, with the weather nothing short of perfect.
🌸 Your attempts to leave your cats at home for said date, however, are fruitless, the pair determined to come with you and your now-boyfriend who declares himself as such after dessert just to piss off the pair of felines. Sukuna plants a big fat smooch on your lips, turning you into a giggly mess.
🌸 They in return, somehow find a stray kitten and plop it in his lap in return. The kitten isn’t as bad off as when you found Satoru and Suguru, but he’s just as scared. He immediately imprints on your oversized boyfriend, who secretly takes an instant liking to the orange-red (honestly a little pink, too) baby cat and becomes a cat dad.
Date not necessarily ruined. But definitely not what he had planned.
🌸 After a week of having, he fondly named the cat a human name — Yuuji, and the fur baby took just as much liking to it as his owner did him. You do have to teach him the ropes and warn your boyfriend that he’d better be ready to have some of his stuff deep-cleaned if Yuuji doesn’t get to the litter box in time.
Satoru and Suguru take to the kitten like two doting parents. And as much as they still kinda dislike your boyfriend taking you from them, they still help train him to use the litter box. (Long story short, they felt bad after seeing you cry after they’d tore up [and peed] all over your third couch and quit being as ornery as they used to be.)
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A few months had passed since Sukuna got Yuuji plopped into his lap, since you two had become a couple. It was always amusing seeing your big boyfriend playing with such a small cat. Honestly, the cat looked like he was part tiger.
You feel overwhelmed with contentment. You have a good job, a wonderful boyfriend (who’s apparently secretly rich) who loves to give you kisses, and two cats who love you. You have enough now, so why was the universe trying to take that from you?
You don’t know how your ex got your number, but what you do know is that you have to tell Sukuna. No later than tomorrow.
You exhale. You can’t think about it. You’ll tell him. You’ll tell him tomorrow that your dyed blonde-haired ex wants to see you again. You’re hopefully of one thing though: that the moment your boyfriend meets your ex, you hope Sukuna has enough restraint to not beat the shit out of him.
“Baby, you okay?”
Sukuna’s brows are raised. One would miss the concern on his face if they didn’t know him as well as you do.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” Woman up, girl, you tell yourself. “I do have something to tell you later. Just… remind me before dinner.”
The concern becomes more evident on his face, which prompts you to walk to him and kiss him.
“It’s nothing serious… I don’t think. Don’t worry,” you reassure him, partially reassuring yourself. “What we should worry about is what’s for dinner,” you joke. “Don’t think I can eat those leftovers.”
“Goddamn, I’m sorry I put too much salt in it.”
You laugh, wanting this happiness to ever be trampled on. You’ll do what you can to protect and keep it.
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri
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ddarker-dreams · 19 days ago
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omg i love your yandere giorno series!! I was wondering if you could write a little thing where giorno witnesses his darling having a lowkey mental breakdown/epiphany because she realizes she’s in love with him? sorta like expanding on the little moments in the other fics where reader questions her feelings for him. and she just confesses to him that it’s so hard to accept what he’s done but she can’t help but love him
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i'd recently been wanting to expand on the scarlet ribbons yandere bad endings and this meshes well with a christmas-y idea i had 👁👁
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This time of year packs your schedule to the brim.
Being the wife of Don Giovanna comes with its unique obligations, which you once stumbled through with the naïveté of a newborn doe. Time and difficult lessons sanded away your inexperience. These trials weren't unlike those he'd undergone since ousting Diavolo, reality proving itself a stubborn foe against youthful idealism.
After what felt like ages apart, he reunites with you in the evening, where he notes some unusual behavior.
For starters, you're eerily silent. While he's no stranger to you giving him the cold shoulder, it's never without reason, like when he restricts your travel for citing security concerns. He can't recall doing anything to earn your ire. If anything, you'd been uncharacteristically amicable recently, regarding him as a collaborator rather than your warden.
Natale was almost like an armistice. You get to engage in charitable pursuits, while he oversees their seedy underbelly. Ultimately, everything is about business, image, and prestige. He doesn't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.
It's when you (and your conspicuous Stand) sneak a glance his way for the third time that he speaks up.
"Is something troubling you?"
He could whittle away at your defenses over an extensive campaign, but, feeling the day's exhaustion weigh him down, he opts for a direct approach. You consider him, your Stand peering over your shoulder with suspicious eyes.
"... Your meeting went long," you comment.
He nods, sensing that you're getting at something. When you refuse to elaborate, he offers to show his hand.
"There were some mild disagreements," Giorno replies. "They've been put to rest."
"If what I suggested is causing tension—"
You cut yourself off when he sits beside you on the loveseat, leaving little room between your persons. It's an unusual line for him to cross. He rarely infringes upon your physical space, owing to a courteous code of conduct that you struggled to comprehend. He thinks you want him to be terrible; a cartoonish villain that you could pour all your energy into resisting.
"I'll see it through," he reassures, the tenderness in his voice reserved solely for your ears. "I think the scholarship program is an admirable idea. The funds are there, it's simply a matter of ironing out the details."
You shuffle around. "It's not a lucrative venture."
"That's inconsequential."
"I'm sure your Capos feel otherwise."
"They can be shortsighted," Giorno argues. "And they don't have the final say — I do."
"That's..." you trail off, gnawing your bottom lip, "Why are you so...?"
Giorno, realizing that he's approaching the heart of the issue, can't let this chance go. He sees you contemplating retreat, as you cross your arms over your chest and squeeze your lips shut. If he were a fully benevolent man, he'd grant you your reprieve. Maybe he'll come to regret pushing you too far. Nonetheless, you are his vice, and even he can't always suppress his selfish yearning.
"So...?" he encourages, nearly crooning the word.
You shake your head. "I never know how to feel about you. Hating you used to come easy, now it's just... pointless. Impossible. I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might even lo—"
Aghast, you slap your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off.
For his part, Giorno wasn't expecting such a vulnerable admission to nearly slip out. Not wanting to push his luck, he leans back, allowing you some space. You appear to be in deep thought. Your Stand has since dissipated, leaving you truly alone.
It's then that he recalls one of the final requests Bucciarati made of him:
"Please ensure her safety and happiness in my stead."
In the years that have followed, the latter has proven trickier than the former.
His hand finds yours. You jump, snapping your head in his direction, shock rippling across your countenance. He responds by giving your hand a firm squeeze. You don't reciprocate, nor do you pull away. Instead, you stare at where your bodies are joined, almost in a trance.
Giorno feels the cool band of your wedding ring flush against his skin. You made efforts in the past to be rid of it, though his Stand's ability ensured it'd always find its way back to you. He wonders at what point you decided to abandon that little rebellion.
Perhaps the revelations surfacing tonight have something to do with it.
Eventually, you exhale a shaky breath. "All this planning has me worn out. I'm not thinking straight. So please... forget I said anything."
And because he cares for you above all else, he nods, prolonging the farce you've both been cast the leads in.
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swifty-fox · 1 month ago
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the heart is a muscle
a clegan christmas fic (wip)
“You were gonna hop all over the moon, risk life and limb and all that, but you won’t let go of the wall at a skating rink?”
“Bucky,” Gale warns. 
John swoops in another loop, gesturing over his shoulder with a mitten covered thumb, “I can go get you one of the kiddie sleds for balance.”
He’s smiling, crooked and bright in the dim lamplight, and there’s no snow but it’s in the air with crisp promise, breath clouding in front of John’s mouth and bits of frost beginning to cling to the whiskers of his mustache. Slowly, he drops his thumb and reaches out his hand again.
“Come on. Won’t let you crash, Gale.” 
His hand is warm, even through the wool of both their mittens, fingers just as long and elegant as Gale’s, but with an extra thickness to them. They wrap around Gale’s loosely, just enough to steady his faint wobble as he pushes away from the wall and out into open ice. John skating backward and Gale re-finding his rhythm with every push off of his legs. And he’s going to be sore tomorrow, he can already feel it somewhere in his hips, but they’re picking up a bit of speed now and when John laughs Gale lets out a breath of his own that he thinks might pass as a chuckle as well. 
John’s face flushes in the cold, perfect right on the apple of the cheeks, and the tip of his nose, both right like cherries. 
“I think I’ve got it,” Gale tells him, tugging his hand from John’s grip gently.
He lets Gale go easily, dropping his hands to his sides and spinning round to skate at Gae’s side, keeping pace with him on far for practiced feet. 
“Told you,” He teases, “Just like riding a bike.” 
“Riding a bike ain’t half so deadly,” Gale smiles, turning his head to the other side so John won’t see. 
“Nuh-uh,” he taps his nose, right across the bump of it, “Busted my beak riding my bike for the first time.”
“That why it so crooked?”
“Hockey fight. Wasn’t supposed to be fightin’ in the minors but they were being rough with our guys.”
“White Knight Bucky, to the rescue?” Gale muses, eyes fixed on the ice in front of him. It’s still clear enough he can see his reflection, hat low on his head and scarf tight around his neck. 
Shrugging his shoulders with fake modesty, John once again pivots to skating backwards and Gale considers tripping him just for the ego check, “More just a big ol’ goon with a decent right hook.” 
“Nah,” Gale disagrees, “You don’t strike me as a half-ass sorta guy.”
John smiles, something small and pleased. Shrugs once again, this time far more sincere with it, “I got an assist here and there.” 
Gale leans his weight to the side, just enough to veer into John and bump his shoulder lightly. Overcorrects on the pullaway until John reaches out to grab his hand. His hands are still warm, and the temperature is only dropping, so Gale lets the touch linger as they skate. Every now and then John’s thumb brushes absently over the back of Gale’s palm. Calloused, dry and a little bit chapped, either from the cold or working with wet flower stems all day, it rasps over Gale’s skin pleasantly. Marge had had warm hands too, always slightly sweet smelling from the soap she bought and the perfume she rubbed on her wrists. 
John smells like cigarettes and cologne and just a bit like dirt, always lingering around the edges like it had sunk right into his pores. 
“So where’d you go after Wyoming?” 
“Texas,” Gale says, watching the light twinkle in the trees. White ones, like John preferred, “Then Utah for a bit, even England for a couple years.” 
“I spent my whole life in Wisconsin,” John admits, “Always swore to my Ma I’d move to New York City and become a baseball player.”
“This was after the Truck Driver dream ended?” 
John huffs, looking down at the ice so Gale only sees the sharp edge of his smile, “Yeah, post Truck Driver.” 
It’s a little more crowded now, and John skates closer to Gale to make room for another couple, laughing and spinning around the ice. He watches them for a moment, a faint smile on his face, burned a soft orange by the floodlights above the rink. 
“So why didn’t you ever go to New York?”
John wets his lips in a movement Gale can’t help but notice, tongue pink and moist and bottom lip wide and soft-looking, “Opened a flower shop instead.”
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20doozers · 20 days ago
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★Christmas cookies★
TW: fluff, kissing, m!reader, use of y/n and m/n, making cookies and being ridiculous, some teasing, just sweet fluff, some kissing and teasing, nicknames like baby, etc
A/n: I’m back guys! Well I’m still sorta slow on fics but I’m trying to work on it cuz the holidays and such are so busy.
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Tom stood clueless in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the ingredients laid out on the counter as his boyfriend washed his hands in the kitchen sink.
“Uhh.. baby I don’t think I’m equipped with the skill to do this..” Tom sighed, turning to look at m/n as he chuckled and flicked water at him before drying his hands.
“Oh shush, such nonsense isn’t allowed in my kitchen. You’re only here to do the cookie cutters anyway.” M/n remarked, earning a huff from Tom as he walked over and went back to the gingerbread cookies he was making.
“Our kitchen, plus I can make a mean cheesecake.”
“Uh-huh, Tom you do everything but bake.” M/n huffed teasingly, rolling his eyes as Tom came up behind him and hugged him, Tom’s arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. Tom snuck his hands around to m/n’s stomach, pulling his shirt up a tad and sneaking his cold hands under m/n’s shirt.
“Tom! I almost dropped the egg shells in!” M/n jolted at the cold hands, whining as he cracked the last egg into the bowl.
“So?”
“So you could’ve had shells in your cookies! And you already ate half of my pastries so I need to make more.” M/n huffed, barely able to put and actual bite behind his words as Tom gently began to kiss his jaw.
“Not my fault you make good pastries, I couldn’t help it..” Tom murmured, kissing m/n’s jaw a few times before kissing his cheek then pulling back.
“And besides you don’t need to make me any fatter, the regular cookie batches are enough already.”
“You’re not fat Tom, plus I’d love you anyway. I’d rather have a well fed man than a starving man. ‘Nd I like spoiling you, baking is fun regardless.” Tom hummed at m/n’s words, looking over his shoulder at the cookie dough as m/n mixed it and put it in Saran Wrap before letting go so m/n could carry it over to the fridge.
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Tom hummed happily as he watched m/n roll out and flatten the now ready dough, setting out the cookie cutters so Tom could do it. M/n hummed as he watched Tom happily press the metal shapes into the cookies; classic gingerbread men, stars, snowflakes, Christmas trees, and many other shapes. It was nice to see Tom happy over something so simple, but m/n knew Tom would be happier when they were baked and it was time to ice them.
The two men were hosting Christmas like usuals, everyone brought or made different things. It was mostly a small celebration with the band; Gustav, Georg, Tom, Bill, Georg and gustav’s wives, and m/n. They always had Christmas dinner together and Tom always loved showing off and braving about how good m/n’s baking was. Cookies, pies, pastries, homemade bread, homemade rolls, etc.
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And 30 minutes later the cookies were baked, laying out on cooling racks along with sugar cookies that now just needed to be iced.
“Tom please don’t get icing everywhere, I love you and all but I hate when the kitchen is sticky right before Christmas.” M/n hummed, giving Tom a soft peck on the lips as Tom let him go so he could go ice the cookies.
And as Tom Iced the cookies m/n cleaned the kitchen, stopping every once in a while to check on Tom or help with something, and it took about an hour for all of the cookies to be iced. Of course tom had made a few inappropriate gingerbread men, giving them boobs or a dick, but m/n could only laugh, seeing a glance of his much younger much more immature husband when they had only been boyfriends all those years ago.
Tom hummed and walked over to m/n, pulling him close and leaning in to press a gentle, slow kiss to his lips, and m/n reciprocated. Tom tasted like gingerbread and apple cider with a hint sugar from the icing which only made m/n love him more.
Life was good around the holidays, especially when they were at home together. Husband and husband.
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YAYYYY! New fic for the Tom boys dropped! I’ve been sooo busy these past few weeks, I went and saw the nutcracker and they had a beautiful ballerina from Moscow. It was super cool! I’m also on my period so cramps are kicking my ass but I’m doing good if anyone cares. MERRRY EARLY CHRISTMASS Love you guys!
Tags: @itsmealaiahh @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @billskeis @divinelolita @cherry-rawr @d0wn-in-the-morgue (let me know if you wanna be on my tag list!!)
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achilles-rage · 1 month ago
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achilles-rage's twelve days of christmas
day two: baby, it's cold outside (ft. donovan rocker)
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summary: after spending the week in a cabin with a group of friends, you and rocker get snowed in.
word count: 5.3k
series masterlist
a/n: this sorta got away from me lol. usually my fics end up being around 2-3k words so idk how this happened. also i don't love how this ended, but it was like 3am when i was finishing it and i was exhausted lol. anyway, enjoy<3
warnings: smut, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ only!
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You really, truly, hadn’t meant to put yourself in this situation, as much as it makes butterflies swarm in your belly.
For the holidays, you and some friends decided to rent a cabin in Northern California. It ended up being an odd mismatch of people going, since many of your friends were visiting family for most of December. You ended up with your best friend, her boyfriend, your two good friends that you met through your best friend, and one of her boyfriend’s friends, who you just happened to work with.
You haven’t spoken much to Rocker, but that didn’t stop all of you from enjoying your week; going skiing, taking walks in the forest around the cabin, and spending evenings in the hot tub on the back deck with festive cocktails that your friend found the recipe for online.
Honestly, Rocker was glad to be invited. Even more so when he came out onto the back deck the first night and saw you wearing your black bikini. His mouth went dry as he took in all of your dips and curves that were on display for his eyes, and as he lowered himself into the hot tub, he was extremely glad that you and your best friend were in the middle of loudly telling a story and no one was paying attention to him. 
If anyone were to tear their eyes away from your and your best friend talking over each other and cutting each other off in a fit of drunken giggles, they would’ve seen the very obvious bulge in his swim trunks, and he doesn’t think he’d be able to simply explain his situation away.
Each night when everyone ended the day in the hot tub, he couldn’t help that his eyes were glued to you. 
Glued to the way your tits sat in your bikini. 
Glued to the way your tummy moved when you laughed, or when you leaned over him to grab your phone sitting on your towel beside him. 
Glued to the way your eyes lit up when you told a story, or the way you looked so excited to be with people that you loved.
He couldn’t get enough of you.
It’s one thing to see you at work, dressed in your work appropriate outfits and acting like a put together professional. But it’s a complete other thing to see you like this.
Even so, he didn’t talk to you more than he had to. He had to keep it friendly enough that you wouldn’t think he disliked you, but professional enough that it wouldn’t make things awkward at work, which was proving difficult. All he wanted to do when he talked to you was make you smile and laugh, and to tell you how gorgeous you were, but he knew he couldn’t.
When the last night of your trip finally comes and goes, your best friend, her boyfriend, and your two other friends leave early in the morning, having to drive further to get to their families for Christmas. You, however, decide to sleep in. Your checkout time isn’t until 2:00 anyway, so you decide that it wouldn’t hurt to stay in your big, warm bed just a little bit longer. 
It only becomes a problem when you go downstairs to make yourself some coffee and see the flurry of snow outside the windows.
Your footsteps halt as you look out the sliding door to the back deck, seeing that there’s at least a foot of snow on the ground already, and it doesn’t look like the snow is stopping anytime soon. Shit, you think, what the hell are you gonna do now? Your car most definitely cannot get through all that snow, and everyone has already left.
You continue to the kitchen to make your coffee, knowing that there’s no point in panicking. Surely the owner of the cabin will understand that you have no way of leaving. And either way, you remember them saying that there was no other booking for the cabin for another few days when you first got here, anyway.
As you begin walking over to the couch from the kitchen, walking carefully with the steaming mug between your hands in a desperate attempt to warm yourself up, the door opens with a slam. You jump slightly, causing a few drops of coffee to spill over the rim of the mug and onto the hardwood floor.
“I thought you already left.” is all you say when you look up to see Rocker in the doorway, completely covered in snow.
“Wanted to take a hike before I left. Didn’t see snow in the forecast.” he grumbles as he begins to wipe the snow from his coat while stomping his feet on the doormat.
When he finally looks up from his feet, barely worried about the puddle now accumulating on the floor beneath him, he sees you in your tank top and sleep shorts, and he has to fight back a groan.
His eyes trail down your body once, only once, he makes sure of it, and then he strips off his coat, hat, gloves, and boots. His jeans are completely covered in snow, which is now sticking to the fabric as it begins to melt, and you feel yourself shiver as you take in his appearance.
“I guess we’re stuck here for a while.” you say in a timid voice, that fact just now registering in your brain as you stare at him. 
You’ve always thought he was attractive; from the moment you saw him at work you thought so. You couldn’t do anything about it, though, obviously. Neither of you were the other’s superior or anything, but if you even tried to flirt with him and things went wrong, it would just make things weird. And either way, you’re not sure he even likes you, not even as a friend. 
Sure, you spent the week together, but this was with a group of mutual friends, and you barely spoke to each other one on one. 
“I guess so.” is all he can bring himself to say. The thought of being here alone with you has his stomach in knots, and he can already tell that this is going to test his willpower. Even now, cold to the bone and face bright red from the cold wind, all he wants to do is feel your soft body against his, feel his lips on your skin.
With nothing more than a mumble about going to take a shower, he’s gone. You only snap out of your daze when he’s up the stairs and out of sight. You lick your lips, trying to calm your racing heart as the panic begins to settle in. 
You’re stuck in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that you don’t own, and with quite possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever met. What could go wrong?
You blink a few times, then remember the coffee you just spilled on the floor, and turn back towards the kitchen to get a paper towel. Once you’re finished with that, you head upstairs to change, figuring it would probably be better to actually be wearing a bra the next time you see Rocker. 
When he finally comes out of the bathroom and downstairs to the living room, you’re curled up on the couch in black leggings and a white cable knit sweater, absentmindedly reading the book you brought, but hadn’t actually had the time to pick up until now. 
“Made you a coffee. Figured you’d need it.” you tell him when he sits down on the other end of the couch. He lets out a soft sigh as he settles on the couch, giving you a small smile at your words.
“You didn’t have to-” he trails off, but leans forward to pick up the mug anyway. He can feel the coffee warm him up as soon as he takes a sip, but he’s sure that what actually makes his skin feel hot is that you thought to do this for him.
“You looked like you needed it. I’m surprised you made it back in one piece through all that snow.” you reply, and he grunts, a scowl making its way onto his face as he remembers the numbing cold he experienced when it started to snow at the furthest part of his hike.
“What are you still doing here? I thought everyone was leaving early?” he asks, turning to angle his body towards your side of the couch.
You shake your head, closing your book and setting it down in your lap. It’s not like you were really reading it anyway.
“Wanted to sleep in. Didn’t have anywhere to go, so I thought I’d take advantage of having the place to myself.” you tell him with a shrug, and he nods, humming softly.
“Sorry,” he says, and you furrow your brows, confused. “For ruining your alone time.” You smile at the sentiment, shaking your head quickly. 
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m glad I’m not here alone.” you reassure him, and he feels heat rush to his cheeks at the way you’re looking at him. He feels his heart racing at having your attention on him, and he barely knows what to do. He’s never felt like this before around a woman.
“Well, I’m gonna go see what we’ve got left in the kitchen. Let you get back to your book.” he says after a moment of silence. You nod, giving him a smile. 
You want to tell him no, that you want him to stay right where he is, but you don’t. All you do is pick your book back up, not looking away from him until he’s up from the couch and his back is towards you as he makes his way to the kitchen.
The next few hours pass by in silence, for the most part. When Rocker’s done in the kitchen, he goes up to his room to grab his own book, then settles in his spot on the couch again. 
As you both get entranced in your books, the silence is hardly awkward. It’s comfortable. It’s not until it’s almost dark outside that you’re torn from your book, feeling the couch shift under you as Rocker stands up.
“You getting hungry? I found some cans of soup in the kitchen.” he asks. You lower your book, then move to stand, but he stops you before you can.
“That’s okay, you stay here. I’ll make it.” he tells you, holding a hand out. “Tomato or chicken noodle?” 
“Chicken noodle, obviously.” you say, and he chuckles softly before nodding. 
You let out a sigh when he goes to the kitchen, listening to the banging of pots and pans moving as you look out the window, just barely able to see the snowflakes falling as the sun falls below the horizon.
When the soup is done, he brings both bowls over to the couch, and you turn on the TV so you don’t have to sit in silence. When the TV hums to life, a Christmas movie is just starting, so you leave it on whatever channel it’s on. 
When you’re both almost done with your bowls, the lights flicker a few times, then go out completely, leaving you both in complete darkness. All that’s heard is the clanking of bowls hitting the coffee table in front of you before both of your phone flashlights turn on, illuminating the room in an eerie glow as panic begins to set into your body.
Rocker can immediately tell that you’re on edge, and he scoots closer to you, looking at you with a soft gaze.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just the storm. I’m sure it’ll be back on soon.” he says in an attempt to calm you, but the wheels in your head are already turning as you look around the now suddenly too big cabin you’re in. This feels like the set of a horror movie. 
“We’re gonna freeze in here.” is all you say. You know it would be silly to actually voice the thoughts at the forefront of your brain; that a murderer is probably outside the cabin with an axe and a sinister smile on his face as he realizes he was successful at cutting the power.
“We’re not gonna freeze. It’ll take a while for it to actually get cold in here. And, we have a fireplace.” he says in a soothing voice, motioning to the beautiful brick fireplace that the TV is sitting on. You nod slowly as your eyes move over to the fireplace; your grip painfully tight on your phone. You should’ve charged it earlier, you think.
“Hey, you never told me how that story ended.” he says after a moment, watching your eyes dart from the windows lining the back wall of the house, to the fireplace, to the front door.
“What?” you ask in a slight daze, your gaze finally darting over to meet his. He repeats his sentence, and when you stare blankly at him, he clarifies.
“The story you told last night, about when you and Carter went on your road trip.” 
You can’t help but smile at the thought, a silent laugh escaping your throat. After you finished college, you and your best friend went on a road trip to celebrate, and last night in the hot tub, you both drunkenly tried to tell the story of when you stayed the night in Yosemite, but got distracted before you could finish it.
“Well, we got there at, like, one in the morning, so we obviously didn’t want to set up the tent. We slept in the car, but it got so hot that Carter rolled down the windows, but just a little bit, because of the bears.” you begin with a fond smile, a faraway look in your eyes as you recount the memory.
“I was passed out during the whole thing, but when I woke up, she was laying half out of the car, the back door wide open and her feet propped up on the seat. When we woke up, our whole bodies hurt from sleeping in the car, so we didn’t even hike or anything, we just sat in silence at the campsite. No tent or anything set up, just two lawn chairs out, because we were so cranky.” you finish, laughing softly. 
You finally focus on him again when you hear his chuckle, and when your eyes lock, he lets out a sigh of relief. You seem to be calming down, which he’s thankful for. 
“I thought Carter said that you were the one that slept outside of the car.” he teases after a moment, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“She’s a dirty little liar.” you reply with a laugh, which makes him laugh again.
You talk for about an hour, bringing up old stories, and anything else that happens to come up, when a shiver rips through your body. The house is getting cold without heat, and even with your thick sweater on and the blanket over your lap, you still feel the cold settling into your bones.
“Are you cold?” Rocker asks, his brows furrowing in concern. He doesn’t give you the time to answer, though, before he’s up and over to the fireplace, quickly working to get the fire started.
“Now I’m really glad you’re here. I’d definitely freeze if it was just me.” you say as you watch him. Your eyes focus on his broad shoulders, and you almost can’t believe that you can still see the outline of muscle even through his sweater as his body moves. 
You’ve seen him in tight shirts at work, of course, which is hard enough, but now, you can’t tear your eyes away from him. He just looks so soft. You can still see the firmness of his muscles, but with his sweater paired with seeing him in such a domestic setting, you think your heart is about to beat out of your chest.
You feel the flash of heat immediately when the spark of fire lights up the room, and you finally turn off your phone flashlight as the glow gets brighter.
You continue to talk until well into the night, and the gap between you two gets smaller and smaller as the time goes on. It’s not until you’re slumped against the back of the couch, eyelids threatening to fall shut that Rocker notices just how tired he is as well. 
He barely even noticed as he spoke to you, eyes locked on yours as he takes in the soft look on your face, and how adorable you look curled up on the couch beside him. If he was sure you felt the same about him, he would’ve pulled you into his arms hours ago and let you nuzzle into his chest to keep you warm.
“We should probably go to bed. Maybe the power will be back on in the morning, or the road will be cleared.” You nod with a quiet sigh. You really don’t want to go to bed. Mostly because you’d have to get out from under the blanket and go upstairs; you’re already cold enough sitting in front of the fire, but also because you don’t want to be any further away from him than how close you are now. 
His leg is touching yours ever so slightly, and one of his arms is draped over the back of the couch, his fingertips so close to touching the fabric of your sweater.
“We should sleep down here. It’s probably freezing upstairs.” he speaks again when you don’t respond. Your face brightens at the idea, but then almost immediately, your heart rate quickens at the idea of sleeping in here with him. 
You reach down to grab your phone, but your hand brushes his on the way to it, and he practically hisses as he feels your fingertips along the back of his hand.
“You’re freezing.” he says, his eyes wide as his eyes move up to meet yours. You shrug, pursing your lips slightly.
“It’s freezing in here.” you reply, and he huffs. He hates the idea of you being uncomfortable, and he wants more than anything to be able to fix it.
“How about we drag a mattress down here, set it up right in front of the fire. That should keep us warm.” Your throat goes dry at the idea. You immediately pick up on the fact that he says us and not you. Is he implying that you’re both going to sleep on the mattress?
“Okay.” you murmur after a moment, realizing that you’ve taken a second too long to reply. You give him a smile before you both stand up and make your way up to your rooms. You change into sweatpants and a hoodie, then make your way down the stairs with a few blankets and pillows from your own bed.
He’s already downstairs, his mattress, blankets, and pillows already all set up. You throw your blankets down on the foot of the bed, then settle in beside him, inviting the all-consuming smell of him filling your nostrils. 
Once you both have the blankets up to your hips, you both work to layer your blankets on top of his before lying down and pulling the blankets up to your chins, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes past your lips at the sight of all of the blankets covering your legs. 
You lay in silence for a few moments, and you’re still practically shivering, even under your mountain of blankets.
“Are you still cold?” Rocker asks, his voice cutting through the silence and snapping you out of your own head. 
Your head turns to face him, and you nod slightly, the tip of your nose and your fingers and toes ice cold.
“Come here.” is all he says, and you swallow, eyes darting down to the way he opens his arms and rolls over onto his side. 
You bite your lip as you turn around and move to press up against his chest. You let out a content sigh when you feel his warmth radiating through the fabric of both of your hoodies, heating you up back to front as his arm wraps around your plush middle and pulls your back flush against his chest.
“If I knew all it took was getting snowed in in a cabin to get you in my arms, I would’ve booked this trip a long time ago.” he says after a minute or two. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes what the hell he just said. He’s not sure if it’s the cold, or how good it feels to have you pressed up against him, but his whole body goes tense, waiting for your reaction.
“What?” you ask softly, your brows furrowing together. You don’t dare to turn back around, you’re afraid that if you do, he’ll see the slight upward turn of your lips.
“What, you didn’t think that I’ve been dying to get you like this? That I want you so bad it makes me look stupid?” he continues, having heard the hint of happiness in your voice. It’s now or never, he thinks.
“I don’t know, I just didn’t think you liked me.” It’s true; all week he hadn’t bothered to speak to you much, and there were times today where he was just so goddamn nervous to talk to you that he could barely look at you. You didn’t see the nervousness though; he hid it well. Instead, you took it as disinterest.
“Didn’t like you? Sweetheart, if it was up to me, you’d already be mine.” he says, his voice full of disbelief as he raises up onto his elbow, forcing you to turn your upper body until your back hits the mattress, letting him look into your eyes.
“Yeah?” you whisper breathlessly, feeling like you just got the wind knocked out of you. You can see the way his eyes gleam in the soft glow of the fireplace, the way it highlights his jawline and the furrow of his brows, and all you want to do is kiss him.
“Yeah.” he replies in the same tone, and before you know it, his lips are on yours. 
The kiss starts out slow, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away, but when you don’t, he lets the hand that was previously draped over your soft tummy grab your jaw, kissing you deeper.
A soft whimper escapes your lips as his tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel dizzy when he tilts your head up into the kiss just slightly.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he whispers against your lips, and you hum softly, your frigid hands now holding onto his face. 
While one arm holds himself up, the other hand that’s holding your jaw trails down your body until it gets to the waistband of your sweatpants. His fingers dance along the waistband while he continues to kiss you greedily, and when he pulls back for a second to gauge your reaction, all you can muster is a desperate “please.”
He wastes no time, and dips his fingers under your sweatpants and panties, moving down to your dripping core. You whimper as his fingers glide across your wet folds, and his takes this time to attach his lips to your neck, making you tilt your head back. 
You bite your lip as he pushes two fingers into you, moving achingly slow as he feels you stretch around his fingers. He pulls back from your neck and looks into your eyes, his eyes full of lust and pupils blown.
“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” he tells you when he sees you biting your lip, increasing the pace of his fingers without warning. Your entire body feels hot as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing lazy circles over the sensitive bud, and you moan, bucking your hips against his hand.
He continues to kiss and nip at your neck, teeth digging into the flesh, and tongue moving across spots in an attempt to soothe your skin as he continues to move his fingers in and out of you quicker. You mewl loudly, however, when he curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside you that has your toes curling.
“Donovan.” you whisper breathlessly as you arch your back, feeling yourself approaching the edge. He leans back from your neck to look into your eyes, continuing to circle your puffy clit with his thumb as his two fingers continue to curl up against you.
“Cum for me, baby.” he whispers, and after a few moments, you’re cumming, clenching around his fingers as you moan loudly.
You watch with hooded eyes as he pulls his fingers away from your pulsing cunt, then raises them to his mouth and licks them clean. You swallow, chest heaving as he sucks your juices from his skin, making sure to get everything he can.
“You taste so good, sweetheart. If I wouldn’t suffocate under all those blankets, I’d make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you.” he practically growls, and you can’t stop the quiet laugh from escaping your lips.
“Next time.” is all you say before you bring your lips to his again, moaning when you taste your sweetness on his tongue. 
You both work to get your sweatpants off, the fabric catching on the bedsheets and blankets as you try to kick them off. When you finally get them off, your hands are back on his cheeks again, kissing him sloppily.
Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by your need for him, your desperation for him. You can’t wait any longer, and in one swift movement, you’re pushing him onto his back and straddling his lap.
He lets out a huff of surprise, but he welcomes your weight on him, his hands immediately going to your hips as you begin to grind against his lap. You can feel his hard cock against your clit as you grind against him, and you can’t take it anymore. 
You lift your hips off him just enough to take him out of his sweatpants, and when you do, you lower onto him without warning, mewling as you adjust to his size. 
He’s sure he’s never felt anything so good, so heavenly, as you sink onto him, your walls clenching around him as he grips your thighs tightly. When you begin to move, he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment, knowing that if he doesn’t pull it together, that he’s going to cum too soon. 
When you begin to bounce on his cock, his hands move up and claw at your hoodie, desperate to see your soft tummy and your tits bounce with each movement. 
You reach down to the hem of your hoodie and pull it off in one swift motion, giggling breathlessly as his hands immediately move to the clasp of your bra. You let him slide the straps down your arms when it’s unclasped, and he groans when he sees your bare tits spring free.
Once you’re completely bare, you reach down and try to push his hoodie up his torso, and he takes the hint, lifting his back off the bed slightly to pull it off and throw it somewhere to be found later.
You continue to sink down onto his cock, momentarily moving in unrhythmic bounces as you reach behind you and pull the blankets up to rest against your back. It’s still cold in here, as much as he is lighting a fire inside of you.
You lean forward, your hands falling on either side of his head to keep the blanket up over you, and Rocker thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches your face twist in pleasure.
“So good for me, baby. Keeping bouncing on my cock.” he purrs, and you moan as his hands move up to cup and squeeze your breasts.
“Feel so good.” you murmur as you continue to move against him, switching between moving up and down on his cock, and grinding against his lap. He moves his hands back down to your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh hard, and he raises his mouth up to one of your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. 
You whimper loudly as he licks and sucks on your breast, leaving bite marks and dark spots in his wake before switching to the other one. 
He can feel your movements become sloppy, and he knows you’re getting close to the edge again. He lowers his head back to the pillow, and his fingers move up from your thighs to your hips before he grips them tightly and bucks his hips up against yours. 
He feels impossibly deeper with each thrust, and you can feel your legs starting to shake as you get dangerously close to the edge. It’s only when you feel his cock twitching that you know he’s close too.
“You want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Fill you up?” he rasps, and all you can do is nod, moaning loudly. You look deep into each other's eyes as you both breathe heavily, both desperately chasing your highs, and in a few more thrusts, Rocker’s balls tighten, and he lets go with a loud groan. 
You feel his cum painting the inside of your cunt, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge as well, body going taut as you clench around his cock.
You practically collapse onto his chest, cheek pressed against his hot skin as you come down from your highs. You can feel him softening inside you, and your mixed releases dripping out of your fucked out cunt, but you can’t bring yourself to care. One of his hands is rubbing your back absentmindedly while the other holds your thigh, and your body feels so warm now that you’re pressed against him like this. 
After a few minutes, your breathing is back to normal, and you finally lift yourself off of him, whining softly as you clench around nothing. 
Then, you move to lay in front of him again, letting him pull your back against his chest as he presses a chaste kiss to the back of your neck.
“You’re so good, baby. Love having you like this.” he whispers in your ear, and you feel yourself shiver when his hot breath hits your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
“And all it took was a snow storm.” you joke softly as your eyelids become heavy. You feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles quietly, then he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.
“You warming up now?” he asks as your hand comes up to rest against his, the one holding your soft tummy, and it’s not ice cold. You nod, smiling softly as your eyes flutter closed.
“Good. Go to sleep, baby.” he says, and you nod again, humming softly.
It doesn’t take either of you long to fall asleep, and when you wake up in the morning to see that the power is back on, you’re both a little disappointed. You still stay in bed for a while, however, limbs entangled with each other’s and lips finding the other’s as you talk in whispered tones, afraid that if you talk any louder, you’ll disturb the atmosphere you’ve created just by being together.
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kybercrystals94 · 18 days ago
Text
Of Scene Breaks and Plot Twists
Read here on Ao3!
Rated: G | Words: 2256 | Summary: The members of Clone Force 99 have an unwanted guest.
A/N: For Christmas, I wrote an entirely unserious, indulgent little fic because I can…so I did.
I am totally making fun of myself with this fic…apologies to the characters for not always (read: rarely) having a plan when I write.
I dedicate this story to every fanfic writer I know and don’t. May you never cease to amaze with your creativity and dedication to the art…you are a gift to the communities you partake in.
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“Alright, boys, settle down,” Hunter says, walking into the cockpit. “We’ve got our next mission.”
“Do we actually get to blow something up this time?” Wrecker asks, sitting up in the seat he was slouching in.
Crosshair takes out his toothpick and flicks it at Wrecker, the sliver of wood bouncing harmlessly off the giant’s shoulder. “Or shoot something?”
“We have been on three consecutive data retrieval missions with no enemy engagement,” Tech states.
Echo points out, “Which is a good thing. It means we did our job well.”
“It means they were boring!” Wrecker declares.
Tech and Crosshair nod.
“I won’t promise anything,” Hunter says, grinning, “However, there is a high probability of explosions and shooting taking place this time around.”
The news receives reactive sounds of approval from most of the members of Clone Force 99. However, Echo isn’t fooling anyone with his eye roll. He’s been craving action as much as any of his brothers.
“So, what is it?” Echo asks.
“What’s what?” Hunter asks.
Echo frowns at him. “The mission?”
Hunter looks down at the data pad in his hand. “I…I don’t know. Nothing’s come through.”
“But you just said–”
“Sorry, sorry! That’s my fault,” I say, pushing myself up from the wall I was leaning against. “I’m sorta writing this as I go. I have no idea what your mission is yet. The keyword here is yet, because I’m sure it will come to me as we go.”
I’m honestly not sure what sort of reaction I expected, but five blasters pulled on me was not on the agenda. I put my hands up, heart battering in my throat. “Woah, woah, hey!” I cry, “Don’t shoot!”
“Who are you and how did you get on our ship?” Hunter growls, blaster still carefully poised to take me out if I make any wrong move.
I swallow. “I’m a fanfic writer. I’m the one writing this story.”
Oh. This is my story. Ha, sorta forgot that I can just…
The Batch lower their weapons with bewildered expressions, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“What just happened?” Wrecker asks. “Why’d we all lower our blasters like that?”
“I told you, I’m writing this story. I’m a fanfic writer,” I say, and, bolstered by my own abilities, I walk over and take a seat in behind Tech, turning the chair to face my darling characters. Aww, they look so sweet when they’re confused.
“You’re using some sort of mind trick,” Tech tells me. “You’re a Force user.”
I laugh. “I wish, but no. I’m just a humble fanfic writer, I promise.”
“You obviously know we don’t understand what that means,” Hunter says, and he sounds so annoyed. A little Crosshair-like, if I’m being honest. “So explain it. Now.”
Bossy.
“Fine,” I sigh, reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone.
Tech’s eyes light up, and I can tell he wants to ask about it; however, a sharp look from Hunter makes him settle back in the pilot’s chair. I make a mental note to show it to him once I’ve calmed everybody down.
For the sake of my gentle reader, I won’t get into the vaguely detailed explanation I gave the boys. It did not go well, and nobody calmed down. After all, how do you explain that someone’s reality and existence is fictional in your reality…without giving them spoilers for their futures? Then you would have to get into fix-its and canon and head canon and all that complicated jargon. Suffice to say, I had to again utilize my writing power to make them sit down and shut up for two seconds while I assured them that their lives were very much “real”, and that I am just trying to share one of their stories with my world…and also that I am making it up on the fly.
“I would like to study these works of fiction,” Tech says.
I ensure my phone is locked and secured in my pocket. “Mmm…maybe later.”
“So, basically,” Crosshair says, and somehow he manages to sound genuine and sarcastic at the same time, “you are calling all the shots and we have no freewill.”
I guess it does sound bad when he puts it like that.
“How about a compromise,” I say, “I’ll let you boys ‘call the shots’, and I’ll just write it down…if you stop threatening to shoot me out of the airlock. Deal?”
They collectively look unimpressed.
I continue stubbornly, “I’m not going anywhere until I have my story. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for weeks, and this is the first decent idea I’ve had.”
“Half-baked is more like,” Echo grumbles. “Kriffing idiot.”
“See?” I say, splaying a hand at the cyborg, “If I were controlling everything, would I be letting y’all verbally assault me?”
“Let me shoot you with a blaster, and I’ll be convinced,” Crosshair says with a menacing flash of teeth that I think might be some sort of smile.
Suppressing a shudder, I roll my eyes. “The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I’ll get out of here. Then I’ll never bother you again…”
…In person.
I love internal dialogue.
“Fine,” Hunter agrees after a long, long bout of silence. “What’s our mission then?”
Oh. Right. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.
Scrambling to come up with something, I say, “Alright, you should have a mission on your data pad now.”
Hunter looks down at his device. “It just says data extraction mission from blank.”
“Hey!” Wrecker objects, loudly, “I thought there was gonna be explosions and shooting!”
Tech takes the data pad from Hunter. “Not to mention the parameters of the mission are unfathomably vague.”
“Alright, alright,” I say, putting up my hands. “How about now?”
“Dangerous data extraction mission from insert planet name here,” Tech reads aloud.
Echo groans. “You have to give us more than that!”
“I don’t usually have to come up with all the details.”
“You’ve given us literally nothing,” Crosshair says, “Less than nothing.”
“You are making it very difficult to believe that anyone reads your stories willingly,” Tech says.
I narrow my eyes.
**
“What just happened?” Hunter asks.
We are in hyperspace, coordinates safely secured in the nav computer, boys fully aware of the mission parameters.
My work here is done.
“That, my friends, is called a scene break,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Now, tell me about this mission.”
“Why would we go over it again?” Crosshair asks, annoyed. “We’ve been arguing strategy for the past hour.”
“So I can write it down.”
“What do you mean so you can write it down? I thought that’s what you were doing!”
I shake my head. “No, see, that’s the point of a scene break. I can skip writing all the monotony and just give readers the jist of it. So, give me the summary of the mission and I’ll write down the important bits I care about.”
Echo gapes at me. “You mean to tell me you still don’t know what the mission is?”
“Which is why you’re going to tell me,” I tell him patiently.
The boys exchange glances. I can see in their microexpressions that they’ve come to some sort of agreement that I am not going to like. Now wait a minute…
“Don’t tell the writer anything, boys,” Hunter says, turning back to the nav computer. “They get to come along for the ride, just like they wanted.”
“You can’t do that!” I cry.
“We just did, di’kut.” Crosshair begins polishing his rifle, the item having appeared during the scene break. “We’re in charge now.”
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going,” I implore weakly.
“Classified,” Echo says.
“Is it still a data extraction mission?”
Tech has the audacity to shrug. He’s scrolling through my phone. How…when…?
“Hey, give that back,” I say, lunging forward to snatch it from him.
He evades me easily, and I go sprawling across the durasteel floor.
Rolling over, I glare up at the commandos grinning down at me. “I’m still the writer,” I say, “I can still do whatever I want and know whatever I want.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” Crosshair taunts.
I must not be completely over my writer’s block after all, because nothing comes to mind. Somehow, the characters are in charge. Kriff.
“Tech,” I say, returning to the topic of my phone, “you can’t be looking at that stuff.”
“These tags are concerning,” Tech mutters, continuing to scroll as if I hadn’t said anything. “Hurt forward slash comfort? Angst? Fluff? Whump? What do these mean? That is, what is the context?”
I hate to do it, but I use my writing ability to put the phone back in my hands before Tech hurts himself emotionally. “Some things are better left unknown, Tech.”
“I swear,” Crosshair growls, “if any of those fanfics are sappy, I will shoot you out the airlock. I don’t care about our ‘deal’.”
“I’m not the only fanfic writer, okay? There are thousands of us.”
“Sounds like a nasty infestation,” Echo says.
“I’ll have you know,” I tell him primly, “we are a lovely community.”
Wrecker, the sweet boy, offers to help me to my feet, putting a hand out. I grip it and he hauls me up a little too roughly, nearly dislocating my shoulder. I grin at him nonetheless. “Thanks, Wreck.”
“Sure thing, writer,” he tells me. He leans in. “In those fanfic thingies you write, do I get to blow stuff up a lot?”
“Uhm, well,” I say, sitting back down, “it depends on the purpose of fic, really.”
“Whadda you mean? Aren’t they all just missions you make up for us?”
Crosshair huffs. “Or pretend to make up?”
“Listen,” I say, leaning around Wrecker to glare at the sniper, “I have writer’s block. Most of the time I think of legitimate missions.”
“Oh, yeah? Name one.”
“Well, one time, you were on this planet getting intel and the building that Echo and Tech was in collapsed and the rest of you had to dig them out.”
“What planet was it?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What was the intel?”
“Important.”
“So you just make whatever the kark you want up and people actually read it?” Echo asks.
Offended by the oversimplification of my work, I retort, “Well, I like to focus more on character development than missions. But that’s just me. Other writers are a heck of a lot better at writing mission stories.”
“Then how’d we get stuck with you?” Crosshair asks, throwing his wadded up polishing rag at me.
I wish I could say I caught it, but it hits me in the face.
“You know what,” I sputter, tossing the rag aside, “Scene…”
**
“...break.”
We are standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded on both sides by droids.
“Would you stop doing that?” Hunter shouts at me over the din of blasterfire.
I crouch down next to Tech at a control panel. “Hey, can I borrow one of your blasters?”
“Write yourself one,” he says, deadpan, keeping his focus on hacking into the Separatist system.
“It doesn’t work like that.”
Tech rolls his eyes and passes over one of his blasters. “Please take care not to shoot one of us.”
“I think I can handle it.”
I cannot handle it. My first shot goes wide and high, taking out a light in the ceiling. Before I can try again, someone snatches the blaster out of my hand.
“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” It’s Echo.
“If that’s a legitimate risk, let them keep it,” Crosshair calls out.
“Aw, don’t hurt yourself, little writer person,” Wrecker says, scooping me up under one arm, “I’ll protect ya!”
I kick my legs and flail my arms, dangling haplessly in his grip. “Put me down!”
“Not until we’re out of here,” Hunter orders.
Fine then.
**
We’re back on the Marauder. The boys’ dark armor is covered in spatters of dried mud, and the right lens of Tech’s goggles has a crack in it.
“What happened to you?” I ask, sitting comfortably in the pilot’s chair, unscathed.
“You’d know if you stuck around to find out,” Crosshair growls.
“Apparently, I was just in the way back there. So I skipped ahead.”
“You’ve been in the way this whole time,” Hunter mutters.
Oh. Those are fighting words.
I smile, and I hope it appears as devilish as I feel. “Plot twist.”
**
I’m not sure what the creature is, but it’s ugly. It’s covered in some sort of goo and it smells putrid.
And it’s gnawing on the Marauder. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have teeth, so the ship won’t be damaged, but it will leave a residue that probably won’t be fun to scrub off later.
“What in the universe is that?” Wrecker asks.
We’ve moved outside of the ship, and we’ve discovered that the creature simply absorbs blaster bolts and is completely unfazed. The boys will have to distract it somehow, lure it away.
How inconvenient.
“This was uncalled for,” Tech says, turning to glare at me.
“Did you see it coming?” I ask. When I am not dignified with a response from any of them, I add, “Plot twist successful.”
“How are we supposed to get rid of it?” Echo asks.
I shrug. “Maybe you boys will figure it out by the next chapter.”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘next chapter’?”
“And this is what we writers like to call,” I say, smiling sweetly, “a cliffhanger.”
TBC
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A/N: Will I ever actually finish this fic?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
‘Tis the nature of fanfic, isn’t it? ;D
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