#crumbs for the winter break

[wisteriagoesvroom]

he looks gooddd here ngl

[x]

[coffeebrownn]

[hop-a-lot]

i thoroughly enjoy ur festive saxton pfp. no pressure, but saxwell christmas would be hella sweet. mistletoe, baking cookies, whatever it may be. i just like them a lot and am super normal about ur art wwaaaahhh!!!!!

:') you've just gave me an opportunity to post about them yipeeee

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 1 : Something warm

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

CW: NSFW, pet play?, praise kink, masturbation, humping, porn with plot, yandere behavior, mention of stalking and use of y/n

Next chapter

Word count: Over 3K

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

The winter cold had arrived in town, but you had underestimated it. You could clearly see the vapor escape your mouth as you breathed on your palms to warm them up. It was lunch break, so you had decided to treat yourself with a hot drink at the local coffee shop. They had a large variety of food and drinks, which was always nice when in a rush.  It was really close to the place you worked at, so the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air in your system. 

I wonder if Jacce is going to be there today, you ask yourself while rubbing your hands together and placing them in your pockets. He was one of the baristas. He always took the time to make little doodles on your cup to go or make foam art if you stayed for longer. You never really had a deep conversation, but you often thought it would be nice to get to know him. 

You arrived in front of the open sign and swiftly pushed the door to take shelter from the cold. Jacce seemed to cheer up as he noticed you. He made his way to the counter, a small smile gracing his lips while he adjusted his apron. Despite his tall figure, Jacce’s hunched over pose almost made him eye to eye with you. Emphasis on almost, he was still way taller.

“Welcome back! Wh-what can I get you today?” 

You told him you wanted a chicken soup with your hot drink, since you had the time to stay a bit longer today. While ordering, you noticed little button pins on his neck strap. One was definitely the pansexual flag and the other was the band Ghost’s logo. 

“I like your button pins!” You commented while handing him the right amount of money, your fingers brushing lightly against his palm. 

“O-oh! Thanks! you're the first client to notice them… well to say something about it at least.”

He started fidgeting with them and gave you a sheepish grin. You swore his face had gotten more flushed than before, but not thinking much of it you made your way to a nearby table. Soon, Jacce arrived with your food ready in hand. You took the tray and admired his work of art. It was a cute Shiba Inu made of foam milk coming out of the mug. He really made it impressively detailed. You took a glance at the soup and the croissant next to it… A croissant? Your neurons finally made the connections that you didn’t order this, after a good second of zoning out. You looked up at Jacce, but he simply glanced away. Oh, it was on purpose. 

“Aw! You didn’t have to!” 

“It’s nothing really…You are m— our favorite regular after all, I need to treat you from time to time.” He pouted, as if it was an insult not to give you special attention. His comment turned your cheeks slightly red. You didn’t know at all that the people working here liked you this much. 

Jacce stayed in place despite already giving you your order. It seemed like the barista wanted to chat longer, but another customer was waiting, so he left reluctantly. 

“The art is really cute by the way!” You shouted from your seat. You saw Jacce lit up with a giddy smile, but in a matter of seconds he returned to his neutral face when addressing the man at the counter. 

You took out your phone to take a picture of the little foam dog before it disappeared into the warm liquid. After that you decided to attack the croissant first, not wanting to give your tongue a second degree burn with the chicken soup or the drink. You took a huge bite, crumbs falling on your laps despite your best efforts. They really had amazing pastry here. The price reflected that, and your wallet definitely knew it well. You were so wrapped in your own little world that your brain blocked out everything going on around you, until an angry voice disturbed your peace. 

“DON’T try to give excuses!”

“S-sir, p-please…”

A man, probably in his fifties, was menacingly pointing his finger at Jacce. He anxiously ran a hand through his mud brown hair, looking everywhere except in the clients eyes. Your heartbeat picked up in pace as you watched the scene unfold, you didn’t want to imagine how the poor barista felt. 

“I don’t have any music playing, I swear! It’s just to take out surrendering noises when I’m —”

“Your generation are such snowflakes! I want to talk to your manager!” 

Jacce let out an anxious laugh before answering.

“I a-am actually the… manager, but I’m als–”

“FOR GOD SAKE! Proof that this place is run by idiots!”

Ok, this guy is seriously going overboard. You looked around to watch the reaction of the other customers. They were understandably all silent, almost frozen in their seats. Seeing no one ready to advocate for the poor guy caused your protective side to kick in. 

“How is it even a problem if he can hear you perfectly?”

The man turned to you with a surprise expression, not expecting anyone to intervene, but soon enough he gave you the same angry stare Jacce had received.  

“It’s a matter of respect.”

“Well you're not being really respectful right now.”

“Are you fricking— You know what? You just lost a valuable customer.” He spat out at the barista and stormed off, but not before knocking over a stand of straws. 

Jacce was visibly affected by this whole encounter. He almost looked like he was going to have an anxiety attack, because of the way he was gripping his shirt. You quickly went up to the counter and kneeled down to clean up the mess. 

“I am so sorry for you, people can be so rude! That’s why I prefer a job without any social interaction, a pure paradise I tell you!” you joked, trying to soothe him. “I hope it didn’t ruin your day…”

Your attention wandered away as you picked off the ground the reusable straws. You could hear Jacce say something, but only for it to be mixed with the background noises. 

“Mm what did you say?”

“Oh em— I just said that it won’t affect the rest of my day, don't worry.”

Jacce’s hand reached up and it looked like he was scratching his neck. He seemed to have calmed down which made you a bit relieved. After all that, you went back to your table and finished your food and drink. You told Jacce goodbye before going back to your own job. 

The rest of your day went normally, but it was still pretty intense. You were at least glad that you didn’t have to deal with angry clients unlike a certain someone. On that note your mind wandered back to Jacce. Next time you should try to get to know him better. He seemed to be eager for it as well. 

***

I hope they’ll come by today,  Jacce whined internally as he tried to search out the window for a glimpse of his beloved. It has been two days since the last time he officially saw them, two days too much in his opinion. He did follow them after work, but it wasn’t the same. The barista wanted to talk to them, even if it was just for a second. 

Jacce mindlessly twisted the sleeve of his forest green turtleneck between his fingers. He had a huge collection of thrifted knitted turtleneck sweater, but this one was definitely his favorite since it was the softest on his skin. 

After one more hour of torture, waiting for a certain someone, they finally pushed open the door of the coffee shop. It took merely a second for Jacce to notice them. He wanted to run to the counter to make sure his coworkers didn't steal this moment from him, but it would have looked suspicious. Luckily, everyone else was too busy to take care of it.

“Welcome back! Wh-what can I get for you today?” The question was more a force of habits than an honest one. Jacce knew perfectly their favorite drink and how they wanted it to be prepared. Just like he expected, y/n ordered the same thing as usual, but with chicken soup. That’s a good sign, he thought; they always order something to eat when they are planning on staying. 

Jacce told them the price and took the chance to admire their complexion while they were busy searching in their wallet. He really loved everything about his darling, from head to toe. As they paid, he felt the tip of y/n finger brush against his palm, shooting heat to his face and somewhere else. 

“I like your button pins!”

The sudden compliment caught him off guard. He was already overjoyed by the touch of his favorite client, but this was definitely making his face burn ten times more. He awkwardly thanked them, but thankfully they didn’t seem to notice his intense reaction, instead leaving to take a seat soon after their interaction. 

Jacce calmed himself down as he brainstormed what he could possibly make in milk foam this time. He ended up with the idea of a cute dog. Everyone likes dogs, right? He sure hoped they did. Furthermore, he took the opportunity to add a croissant next to the bowl of soup. It was a slow day anyway and it's not like it was making the business lose a lot of money. The barista carefully took the tray and brought it to their table. Normally they would just call people at the counter to get their order, but he seriously wasn’t going to bother y/n for such a silly thing. 

Jacce was so proud at the stunned look on his the customers face when they saw the little Shiba Inu made out of foam milk and the free croissant. He couldn’t help but sweat as they looked up at him. 

“Aw Jacce! You didn’t have to!” 

“It’s nothing really…You are m— our favorite regular after all, I need to treat you from time to time.” He pouted. 

He soon noticed that they were blushing. Fuck! I made them blush! That’s what he wanted more than anything, to make them love him just as much as he loved them. This definitely was a good sign.  If only he could stay longer to admire them from up close, but no. Another customer had to enter and ruin the only good moment of his day. 

“The art is really cute by the way!” He heard them shout from their table as he left. Jacce lit up with a giddy smile, but in a matter of seconds he returned to his neutral face when addressing the man at the counter. 

“What can I get you sir?” He asks with a monotone voice while gently tugging at his only dark strand of hair. 

“I’ll get a black cof– are you listening to music, young man?” 

Jacce looked up at the client that had noticed his earbuds.

“No sir, I can assure you I’m not.”

“DON’T lie to me!”

“S-sir, p-please…”

The man, probably in his fifties, menacingly pointed his finger at him. Jacce anxiously ran a hand through his mud brown hair, looking everywhere except in the clients eyes. This was going worse than he expected. He could feel himself sweating profusely. 

“I don’t have a-any music playing, I swear! It’s just to take out surrendering noises when I’m —”

“Your generation are such snowflakes! I want to talk to your manager!” 

Jacce let out an anxious laugh before answering.

“I a-am actually the… manager, but I’m als–”

“FOR GOD SAKE! Proof that this place is run by idiots!”

A worker named Pierre opened his mouth to intervene, but he was not quick enough it seemed.  

“How is it even a problem sir if he can hear you perfectly?”

Jacce had to hold himself back to not cry from happiness. There they were, his precious love standing up for him. 

The man turned to them with a surprise expression, not expecting anyone to speak up, but soon enough gave y/n an angry stare. Jacce couldn’t let that slide. This man was definitely banned from the shop.   

“It’s a matter of respect.”

“Well you're not being really respectful right now.”

“Are you fricking— You know what? You just lost a valuable customer.” He spat out in Jacce’s way and stormed off, but not before knocking over a stand of straws. 

Jacce could never get used to situations like this, it always affected him. Still, he tried his best to regulate his breathing as he gripped his shirt. Y/n quickly went up to the counter and kneeled down out of view. The barista leaned against the counter to look at what they were doing. His darling was cleaning up the mess the waste of air had just caused. 

“I am so sorry for you, people can be so rude! That’s why I prefer a job without any social interaction, a pure paradise I tell you!” They joked, “I hope it didn’t ruin your day…”

It was so sweet of them, not only did they advocate on his behalf but they were thoughtful enough to lift his spirit too. Jacce really couldn’t wait to be theirs and repay them for all their kindness. 

“No need to worry about that, you made it perfect already.”

“Mm what did you say?”

“Oh em— I just said that it won’t affect the rest of my day, don’t worry.”

The man could feel his erection pressing painfully against the restraint of his pants. Instinctively, he reached up to the collar hidden under his clothes to brush it with his fingers. It had a tag with Jacce engraved on the front. On the backside it said “property of” followed by y/n and their phone number. He clenched his fist, he really couldn’t wait to get home.

When they left, the rest of Jacce’s day consisted of him daydreaming about the chivalry of his sweetheart. Once he arrived at his house, it was a matter of seconds before his pants were taken off. He didn’t even wait to be in his room, instead opting for the cold tile floor of his bathroom. He took out of one of the cabinets a small bottle of lotion, opened it with his left hand and generously poured the content on the other. He had these bottles scattered all around his home, including the bag that he brought with him everywhere he went. Biting his bottom lips, he ran his hand down his happy trail, where it connected to the base of his shaft. A doggy-like whine escaped his lips as he began to wrap his finger around it and slowly moved up.

“S-shit Mmfff! Please…A-aahh use me master.”

Wet noises soon started echoing around the room and the hallway, accompanying the incessant buzzing of electricity. It was a true miracle that Jacce never got a noise complaint since he moved into this house. His neighbor could definitely hear his nightly worshiping session if they went out into their backyard. It's not like he was loud on purpose, but when it came to the object of his affection he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It made him wonder on some occasions if he didn’t end up in a neighborhood full of perverts that loved listening to his lewd activities. At this point, his legs had started shaking violently from how sensitive he was, making him lean more against the wall for support.

“I’m just a dumb little puppy for y-you, t-touching my-myself everyday …Nnhg.”

He arched his back as his hand stroked his cock at a higher speed, crying out for them desperately. His imagination couldn’t settle on one vision. He kept switching from images of them bouncing on his cock to them bobbing their head up and down on it and even having them fuck his little ass raw. He only slowed down his movements to run his thumb under the foreskin of its head, filling his brain with an other wave of pleasure. 

“I’m a… greedy little mutt, so Uugh so greedy.” 

He cursed at himself under his breath for having such lewd fantasies about the person he loved, which turned him on even more. Precum was abundantly leaking out of the tip of his dick now, resembling pearly water drops. Wanting more, he used his free hand to reach under his turtleneck and pinched at his nipples. Jacce bullied the poor thing by twisting it between is fingers. He couldn’t help but shiver from the stimulation he was giving himself. 

“I j-just Unnf want to b-be yours.”

He sincerely wanted them to use him, ravage him even, but he also yearned for the sensations his darling would give his body. They would be so good for him just like he would be for them. 

Despite the fact that he wanted to continue more than anything, it had to last longer. As he felt his climax approaching, Jacce loosened his grip on his shaft. A pathetic whine escaped his lips while he tried to keep himself from cumming. He staggered to his feet, gripping the sink for support. He felt so weak, his legs hardly supporting his weight anymore. Every friction his dick received made him fold in half, prolonging even more his travel to his room. As he continued his journey, a long string of precum was left behind him. He will have clean it later, but for now he didn’t care if he made a mess. In a way, it was part of the fun.

He finally crawled onto the bed, lazily placing a pillow between his legs. It was wrapped with one of y/n stolen hoodies, in other words, his most prized possessions. Jacce winced when the fabric made direct contact with his glistening cock. He closed his eyes, trying to picture them under him, praising him for being able to hold his orgasm. He was being such a good boy for y/n, why couldn’t they see? 

He started humping that thing like the horny mutt he was. His ass wiggling cutely from the incessant movement. Jacce wanted them to see him like this so badly. A pure mess that couldn’t help but make high pitched whines at every trust. 

“I j–just want to cum for you, all f–for you.” He mumbled, while tears rolled down his face, cheek flushed. 

His cock was so sensitive, giving him the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. He wasn’t capable of closing his mouth anymore, drool leaking out of it like a waterfall. Jacce tried to keep up the speed as he chased his inevitable climax.

“Master, I'm c-cumming, A-ah… I'm cumming! I… l-love you!” He cried out while thrusting his hips forward uncontrollably, shooting hot ropes of cum all over the pillow. 

After falling face first onto the bed, he pulled it up to his chest, cradling the dirty hoodie as if it was really them, but ultimately it wasn’t enough. He was just too impatient to tease himself for an extended period of time. In addition, the desire to cum and becoming dumb for a few seconds was way too alluring. Jacce was sure that if he was with y/n, they would edge him way longer than what he could ever do. 

He knew for a fact that's what they would do, since, one time at the cafe, he had the chance to watch them enter the code on their computer. With that crucial information he was able to open it when he broke into their house came unannounced. He was stunned when he saw the tags of the spicy fanfiction his precious darling reads. They both had the same taste in terms of kinky sex. Another proof to fill his delusion that he was destined to be theirs. 

As he laid there, tired and dazed, he thought about how nice it would be to be enveloped by their smell. He took a big breath into the hoodie. Yay it lost the particular scent he was looking for. He knew it was wrong, but maybe he could pay them a “visit”…just to feel a bit closer. Jacce looked at the clock. He still had time to do it before they arrived at their apartment. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Even if I only post it now, this was actually the first yandere story I ever wrote, back in september of 2023, so the writing maybe be less good than my other stuff!

This story will also be posted on my ao3 account

Plus an old drawing I made back then for this chapter

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Aussie Athletes

♥ masterlist

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader

♥ smau - fluff

♥ a/n: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)

liked by logansargeant and 32,406 more

yourusername First Day @/ausballet

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logansargeant congrats sis

yourusername <3

user14 she's in Australia now 🫢

user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now

yourusername 👀

user5 💗💗💗

oscarpiastri welcome to Australia

landonorris trying to get a date on main?

logansargeant don't even think about it piastri

oscarpiastri ???

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

2023 British GP

You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead. 

“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled 

“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule? 

“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly. 

Oscar hummed in an understanding response. 

“How’s it been there?” 

“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.” 

“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.” 

“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”

“They say the same about racing.” 

“I guess we have something to bond over.”  you smiled.

You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 340,967 more

yourusername he says I'm so american

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lilymhe top golf double date

yourusername we are so there

user7 WHO IS HE

user9 y/n x oscar crumbs

user2 crying and writing fics

logansargeant 😐

yourusername ...

user6 @/landonorris please tell us she's with oscar

user8 why would lando know?

landonorris 🤐

user8 @/user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 305,678 more

yourusername opening night 🧡

logansargeant you did amazing 💐

user2 the orange heart...

user5 NOT a coincidence

user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at

user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together

ausballet our sugar plum fairy

yourusername <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time Skip - 2024

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 670,895 more

yourusername MONACO <3

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charles_leclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family

yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles

oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?

user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭

user10 someone go get Nicole

user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc

logansargeant don't break her heart

oscarpiastri I won't I swear

[valkyrieromanoff]

WRAP ME UP: Dilf! Anakin x f!reader

synopsis: caught up in the Christmas rush, you took charge of buying all the presents to give your boyfriend a well-deserved break. But as the day winds down, you realize you’ve forgotten the most important gift—his. Determined not to let him down, you scramble to come up with a surprise that’s sure to make this Christmas unforgettable.

warning: MDNI, 18+, unprotected sex, pussy eating, dirty talk, implied age difference.

words: 4.1k

a/n: Hello there, hope you’re all having the best Christmas ever! 🥰💖 I whipped up this lil oneshot as a gift just for you, filled with all my love and holiday vibes 🎁✨ Sending hugs, kisses, and festive cheer your way~ mwah! 💕🎄

So why don't we just wrap me up? A little bow and ribbon, best thing you've been given Baby, come and wrap me up I'll be under your tree, hurry up and find me

Christmas always seemed to come with a whirlwind of chaos—the kind that swept through the house like a winter storm. There were decorations to hang, meals to prep, and endless checklists to tick off. Putting the kids to bed at just the right time so you could sneak the already-wrapped presents under the tree was practically an Olympic sport. Not to mention the milk and cookies the little ones had spent the day making; someone had to nibble on those and leave a convincing crumb trail.

Whew. Just listing it all was exhausting.

This year felt even more complicated, though. Add a divorce to the equation, and you had the perfect recipe for a holiday headache. Coordinating a peaceful gathering between your boyfriend’s ex-wife’s family and your own was no small feat. For Anakin, this was the first Christmas since his split from Padmé that would take place at his

He wanted everything to be perfect. Not for himself, but for his 10-year-old twins, Leia and Luke. He had insisted on getting a live pine tree—a massive, fragrant beauty that now stood proudly in the living room. He’d spent hours stringing lights and hanging ornaments, meticulously ensuring no branch was left bare. But let’s be honest, the finer, more delicate touches weren’t exactly Anakin’s forte. That’s where you came in, adding cute little details like hand-painted pinecones and glittery snowflakes.

Despite all his efforts, there was still so much to do. Anakin even took it upon himself to clean out the attic so Padmé and her new partner would have a place to stay—a task you eventually had to step in and stop. Watching your older boyfriend juggling it all—exhausted and overwhelmed—was enough to make your heart ache.

“Babe,” you’d said, placing a hand on his arm as he tried to untangle yet another strand of lights. “Why don’t you let me take care of the gifts? You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Anakin had protested at first, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “I don’t want you running around and tiring yourself out,” he’d said, his furrowed brow softening slightly at your concern.

But you’d been ready for that. “We already made a list,” you’d assured him with a grin. “Half the stuff is online—I can knock it out without even leaving the couch.”

That had earned a laugh, the kind that made his shoulders relax and his blue eyes light up, even just for a moment. “Sometimes I forget that,” he’d teased, shaking his head.

“You forget a lot of things, old man,” you’d shot back, your tone playful as you nudged him gently.

And so, the task had fallen to you. You’d tackled it with determination, checking off each name on the list like Santa himself. Leia’s little scientist kit, the one she hadn’t stopped talking about after a trip to the mall. Luke’s robotics kit, perfect for building his dream spaceship. For Padmé, you’d chosen an elegant set of rose-scented moisturizers, oils, and bath salts—practical but thoughtful. Even her date wasn’t forgotten; you’d picked out a bottle of wine that struck the perfect balance between classy and casual.

Each gift was wrapped meticulously in festive paper—greens, reds, stripes, and prints of reindeer prancing through snowy fields. Big, shiny bows crowned them all, turning the pile beneath the tree into a picture-perfect scene.

But as you stood back, surveying the neatly wrapped packages, a realization hit you like a snowball to the face. You’d forgotten the most important gift of all. The one for him.

Your heart sank, and the cheerful glow of the tree suddenly felt a little dimmer. How could you have missed it? After everything Anakin had done to make this Christmas special, after the hours he’d poured into creating a magical holiday for everyone, you’d forgotten him.

You spent most of dinner lost in thought, your mind racing to come up with a way to fix your mistake. Buying something online was out of the question—it wouldn’t arrive in time. The stores had surely closed by now, and even if they were miraculously open, you doubted you’d find anything meaningful enough to give him. You could still picture the chaos that had unfolded in stores that morning, people scrambling to grab last-minute gifts. No, it had to be something special, something that mattered.

“Hey, you outdid yourself, baby.”

Anakin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as his arms wrapped around you from behind. His touch was warm, steady, and so familiar that it sent a wave of comfort through you despite your swirling anxiety.

You sighed, startled by his sudden presence. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I could barely get Leia to sleep,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck. “She wouldn’t stop talking about the scientist kit Santa brought her. And Luke?” He chuckled softly, the sound deep and content. “He’s passed out upstairs, hugging his present like it’s a long-lost friend.”

His satisfaction was evident, a proud smile curling his lips as he nuzzled into your neck. The light tickle of his growing stubble sent a shiver down your spine.

“That’s… that’s great,” you murmured, trying to match his warmth, but the weight of your forgotten gift tugged at you like an anchor.

“Baby?” Anakin’s voice softened, his concern breaking through the comfortable silence. He turned you in his arms, his large hands settling on your waist as he studied your face. His blue eyes, stormy yet full of affection, locked onto yours. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet all evening.”

You hesitated for a moment, the words catching in your throat. Finally, you whispered, “I didn’t get you a present.” You bit your lower lip, the admission laced with guilt and shyness. “I—I forgot.”

Anakin’s reaction wasn’t what you expected. His smile widened, his features softening as he tilted his head. The corners of his eyes crinkled in that way that always made your heart flutter. “Baby,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth, “you’re my present.”

His words caught you off guard, the simplicity of them sending a rush of warmth through you. You stared at him for a moment, your chest tightening with love—and then, suddenly, inspiration struck.

“Oh,” you breathed, a smile spreading across your face as an idea took root. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right back—I need to take care of something.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow, bemused but curious as he watched your sudden burst of energy. “What are you up to now?”

“You’ll see,” you said with a mischievous grin, your excitement bubbling over as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried toward the stairs. You moved quickly, your steps light yet deliberate as you tried not to wake the children. Whatever guilt you’d been feeling was now replaced by an eagerness to give Anakin a gift he’d never forget.

A few minutes later, with a few fewer clothes, you were ready. Calling out to him softly, you hoped he would like your surprise gift. The door opened, and Anakin's mouth dropped open in awe as he took in the sight before him. You were draped in red lace lingerie that caressed your curves like a lover's touch, hugging you in all the right places. A crimson bow adorned your curls, and satin ribbons were artfully wrapped around your body - a bow around your slender neck, another cinched around your tiny waist, and delicate strands encircling your hips and thighs. You looked like a tantalizing holiday treat, a gift just for him.

Anakin stood there, speechless, his blue eyes drinking you in like a man dying of thirst. A wolfish grin slowly spread across his face as he closed the door behind him with a gentle kick of his foot. "Merry Christmas, baby," he purred, his voice low and husky with desire. "And what a very naughty, very sexy gift you are."

You smiled coyly, tilting your head up to meet his heated gauze. "Merry Christmas," you murmured, your breath hitting as he closed the distance between you. His lips captured yours in a feverish kiss, the taste of rum-spiked eggnog mingling with the intoxicating flavor that was uniquely him. It made your head spin and your knees go weak.

"Fuck, I love you so much," Anakin groaned against your skin as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth grazed your pulse point, making you shiver and arch into him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly, and it made you ache with want.

His hands roamed your body, mapping out every curve, every dip, every secret place that made you gasp and moan. He palmed your breast through the delicate lace, rolling the hardened nip. Anakin's hands continued their sensual exploration, his fingers dancing across your skin like a symphony of sensation. He cupped your face gently, tilting your head back to claim your lips in another kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, stroking against yours in a tantalizing rhythm that left you breathless and wanting more.

"You're mine," he growled possessively as he broke the kiss, his blue eyes burning into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "All mine, my beautiful Christmas present."

His hands moved lower, skimming over your ribs, your hips, the soft globes of your ass. He gripped your rear, pulling you flush against him, letting you feel how hard he was, how much he wanted you.

"I'm going to unwrap you slowly," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to savor every inch of you, like the rare and precious gift you are."

His fingers found the bow at your neck, and with a gentle tug, the ribbon slipped free, fluttering to the floor. He kissed your collarbone, your shoulder, the swell of your breast as he worked his way down, untying each ribbon, baring more and more of your skin to his hungry gauze.

You trembled under his touch, your body singing with desire, wanting to be touched, claimed, loved by him. Each brush of his lips, each nip of his teeth, each caress of his hands sent sparks of pleasure racing through you, building the heat simmering in your core to a fever pitch.

"Please, Anakin," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you. I need to feel you inside me."

He groaned at his pleading words, his control hanging by a thread. "Patience, baby," he murmured, even as his hands made quick work of your lingerie, tugging it down your legs and leaving you bare, save for the ribbon cinched around your waist and the bow adorning your golden curls. "I thought you were my gift, not the other way around," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Anakin guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, his large, warm hands on your hips steadying you. He knelt before you, his eyes dark with desire as he drank in the sight of your naked body. Slowly, reverently, he leaned forward and took your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipple.

You gasped at the sensation, your back arching to press more of yourself against his eager mouth. He sucked and nibbled, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He lavish attention on your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh, his mouth hot and wet against your skin.

Time seemed to blur as he devoted himself to worshiping your breasts, licking and sucking until your chest was flushed and damp with his saliva. Your nipples throbbed with need, craving for more of his touch, more of his attention. Soft, needy moans spilled from your lips, growing louder with each passing moment.

"Shhh, baby," Anakin whispered, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "You don't want to wake the kids, do you?" There was a note of genuine concern in his tone, even as his lips curved into a playful smile. "Can you be quiet for me?"

Nodding eagerly, you bit your lip, determined to stifle your cries of pleasure. Anakin smiled proudly, his eyes shining with adoration. "That's my good girl," he praised, pressing a tender kiss to your belly before trailing his lips lower, down, down, until he reached the ribbon tied around your waist, he undid it with his teeth, letting it gather the pile of clothes on the floor.

Anakin gently spread your legs, his hands firm but gentle on your thighs as he positioned himself between them. He looked up at you with a mischievous grin, his blue eyes dark with desire, before lowering his head and burying his face in your pussy.

His hot breath ghosted over your sensitive folds, sending a shivering through your body. Then, with a low groan of appreciation, he dragged his tongue along your slit, savoring you as if you were a banquet, his first meal in decades.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. "I could eat you all day, baby."

He lapped at you hungrily, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, seeking out every hidden crevice. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were squirming beneath him, your hips bucking against his questing mouth.

Anakin moaned in approval, the sound muffled against your flesh. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were, his enthusiasm evident in every lick, every suck, every nibble of his lips. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, darting flicks of his tongue, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for his oral assault, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he held your gaze while he licked you, the intensity of his stare sending your arousal soaring.

"You like that, baby?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. "You like how I eat this pretty pussy?"

You could only whimper in response, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter. Anakin grew in approval, his tongue redoubling his efforts, fucking you with it as he sucked hard on your clit.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low, soothing rum.

"Fuck, baby, I'm, I'm gonna cum" You mumbled, the words getting mixed up and tangled in your mouth, the pleasure he was bringing you making everything else blurry and confused.

Anakin's eyes darkened with hunger as he looked up at you, your words spurring him on. He doubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep into your entrance, fucking you with long, languid strokes. He alternated between plunging his tongue inside you and circling your clit, keeping you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled but still filled with encouragement. "Cum for me. Let me taste you, feel you coming undone on my tongue."

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard as he thrust two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. Your legs began to shake, your thighs trembling against his head as the pleasure built to a crescendo.

"Fuck, Anakin," you cried out, your voice breaking on a sob of pure bliss. "I'm gonna- I'm cumming!"

Anakin groaned in approval, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh, pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he continued to lap at you, prolonging your pleasure.

You thrashed beneath him, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him in place as you rode out the intense waves of ecstasy. Anakin stayed with you every step of the way, his tongue working wonders, coaxing out every last drop of your release.

As the aftershocks subsided, he gentled his touch, his tongue still stroking over your sensitive flesh, soothing you down from your high. He placed a tender kiss on your mound before lifting his head, his face glistening with your juices, his eyes blazing with satisfaction.

"Fuck, you're delicious," he growled, his voice rough with arousal. "I could never get enough of you."

He crawled up your body, his hard length pressing insistently against your thigh as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the flavor mingling with the taste of him, creating a heady combination that made you feel like a shooting star, being burned and then reconstituted by his mouth.

Anakin gently brushed away the damp strands of hair clinging to your forehead, his touch tender and reverent. He gazed down at you, his blue eyes soft with adoration and still smoldering with desire.

"I still want to be inside you," he murmured, his voice low and husky. He pressed a trail of kisses along your neck, his lips adoring your skin. "Do you have the energy to ride me, or would you prefer me on top?"

You shivered at the feel of his warm breath against your sensitive neck, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. "I want to feel you deep inside me, but I'm not sure if I could get up off the mattress," you whispered, your voice weak but filled with need. "Please, Anakin."

With a low groan, Anakin settled himself between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours, seeking permission, making sure you were ready for him.

At your nod, he slowly pressed forward, sheathing himself inside you inch by inch. You gasped at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth. He was so big, so hard, filling you in a way that made you feel complete.

Anakin stilled once he was fully seated inside you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed in bliss. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he breathed, his voice tight with restraint. "So tight, so perfect."

He began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through your body, building the heat simmering in your core once more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, harder.

Anakin complied, his pace increasing, his thrusts growing more powerful. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of his hips. He angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars, that had you crying out in ecstasy.

Anakin's thrusts grew more urgent, more powerful, his hips snapping against yours with a force that had the bed frame shaking. He braced himself above you, his muscles flexing with each drive of his cock deep into your heat.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "So tight, so perfect. I could stay inside you forever."

You clung to him, your nails digging into the hard planes of his back as he pounded into you, chasing your pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his grunts of endeavor.

Anakin shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts, hitting a spot inside you that made you see the whole galaxy. Your back arched off the bed, a silent scream of ecstasy tearing from your throat. He must have felt it too, because he smiled down at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

"That's it, baby," he croaked, his voice a low, sultry rumble. "Cum for me. I want to feel you coming apart on my cock."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. The added stimulation was too much, pushing you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your walls clenching around Anakin's thrusting cock, milking him for all he was worth. He groaned, his rhythm faltering as your pleasure triggered his own.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed deep within your heat. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck.

"Fuck, that was incredible," he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. "You're amazing, do you know that?"

You could only nod, too consumed by the afterglow to form coherent words. Anakin rolled to the side, pulling you with him, tucking you against his chest. His hand stroked lazily over your back, his touch soothing and comforting.

Anakin kissed your forehead softly, the lingering warmth of his lips like a silent promise. His strong, calloused hand rubbed gentle circles on your back, grounding you both in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The glow of the lights your boyfriend insisted on placing in every window in the house spread lightly throughout the room, casting a warm, golden hue over the space.

“You,” he murmured, his deep voice still tinged with the rawness of emotion, “are the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for.”

A lazy smile spread across his lips, his eyes heavy-lidded but filled with unmistakable love. He looked utterly content, his body still recovering from the tidal wave of pleasure that had swept over him. He leaned back slightly, letting his head rest against the pillows as he gazed at you.

You felt the strength of his arms encircling you, his larger frame cradling your smaller body like you were something fragile, precious. Your cheek pressed against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You’re everything,” Anakin continued softly, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “Do you know that? You came into my life and turned everything upside down in the best way possible.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your own smile forming as his words sank in. “I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you teased lightly, your voice muffled by his chest.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, vibrating through you. “Not even close,” he said, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’ve given me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. Love. Real love. Not just for me but for my kids, for this life we’re building together. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to trace the sharp lines of his jaw, his soft stubble prickling under your fingertips. “I love you, Ani,” you whispered, the words full of warmth and certainty.

His lips curved into a wider smile, and his stormy blue eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you more,” he replied, his voice steady but soft.

For a while, neither of you moved, content to simply exist in the moment. The sounds of the house were muffled—the distant creak of floorboards, the hum of the heater, the faint tinkling of Christmas music still playing downstairs. It was as if the world outside your little bubble had melted away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in the comfort of each other.

Finally, Anakin shifted slightly, his hand trailing soothing patterns along your back. “You know,” he began, his tone lighter now, “we should probably get some sleep. Santa left a lot of toys under the tree that will need assembling in the morning.”

You laughed softly, the sound muffled by his chest. “You mean I’ll be assembling them while you ‘supervise,’ right?”

He smirked, brushing a kiss over the top of your head. “I think we make a pretty good team. Besides, I’m sure Luke will take over as lead engineer within five minutes.”

“Leia will be too busy experimenting on whatever she can find,” you added with a laugh.

Anakin’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he imagined the chaos that awaited them tomorrow. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride.

You shifted slightly to look up at him again, your own smile soft and filled with affection. “Merry Christmas, Ani,” you whispered, your fingers lacing with his.

He tilted his head to press a lingering kiss to your lips, the gesture tender but full of meaning. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he murmured against your lips.

As the two of you settled back into the quiet comfort of each other, the warmth of the holiday filled the room, a gentle reminder of everything you’d built together. Anakin’s life, once marked by loss and brokenness, now felt whole again—with you at the very center.

[cheollipop]

❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

--

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

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[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN AND SMALL THiNGS THEY DO FOR YOU ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 493 𝔀arning not proofread ┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ new layouts for my ot7 works >3<, plus i haven't posted an ot7 work in such a long time◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승) : BUTTONING/ZIPPING YOUR JACKET

heeseung always made sure you were warm. whether it was a brisk autumn evening or a chilly winter morning, he never missed a beat. as soon as he saw you shiver, he was there, gently pulling your jacket together. his fingers deftly zipped up your coat or buttoned it snugly, ensuring no cold air could sneak in. you'd smile up at him, and he'd return the gesture with a soft, reassuring look.

rest of members below

JAY (박종성): MAKING SURE YOU EATEN

jay always made sure you ate your meals. no matter how busy or stressed you were, he was there with a gentle reminder or a plate of your favorite food. he'd text you during lunch breaks, asking if you had eaten, or show up with takeout if he knew you hadn't had time to cook. sometimes, he'd even cook for you. his concern was never overbearing, but always filled with genuine care.

JAKE (심재윤): SOFTLY DUSTING CRUMS FROM YOUR CHEEK WHEN EATING

jake always noticed the little things. when you were eating and a few crumbs found their way onto your cheeks, he’d smile and reach over gently. his fingers would brush softly against your skin as he dusted the crumbs away. his eyes full of affection and a playful grin on his face. it was such a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter every time.

SUNGHOON (박성훈): OPENING THE DOOR FOR YOU AND PULLING YOUR SEAT FOR YOU BEFORE YOU SIT DOWN

every time you approached a door, his hand would instinctively reach out to open it for you, a smile accompanying the motion. his attentiveness extended to when you were about to sit down; he'd swiftly pull out your chair, before you even had the chance to reach for it. it was as if he anticipated your every move.

SUNOO (김선우): GENTLY RESTING HIS HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER WHEN PEEKING AT SOMETHING

whenever you were taking a picture together or admiring something, he'd lean in close, his head finding a comfortable spot on your shoulder. with a soft smile playing on his lips, he'd peek at whatever caught your attention. sometimes, when you were peeking at something together, he'd lean in even closer, his cheek grazing yours.

JUNGWON (양정원): ABSENTMINDEDLY PLAYING WITH YOUR HAIR

jungwon had a habit that spoke volumes of his affectionate nature: he was always playing with your hair, seemingly without even realizing it. whether you were sitting together watching a movie, walking hand in hand, or simply talking, his fingers would find their way into your hair, gently twirling or stroking the strands. 

RIKI (西村力): KEEPING POLAROIDS OF YOU

riki treasured every moment with you, and he had a special way of keeping those memories close. in his phone case were polaroids of you both—smiling, laughing, and simply being together. in his dorm, he hangs small polaroids of the two of you on the wall. each polaroid held a story, a moment frozen in time that he cherished dearly. 

[fioredeciliego]

Softly, Sweetly - Winter x Fem!Reader

12.5k words

The morning air in the office was crisp with the scent of fresh coffee and lingering hints of printer toner. Minjeong adjusted her blazer, her sharp eyes scanning the rows of desks as she walked through the bustling corporate floor. It was her first week as the new manager—a title she’d worked tirelessly to earn. Being an alpha in a field where appearances were everything, she’d perfected the art of self-control. Her instincts had no place here.

“Good morning, Manager Kim,” a cheerful voice greeted her. Minjeong nodded with a polite smile, not breaking stride. She kept her expression neutral, her shoulders squared. No one needed to know how tightly wound she felt beneath the surface.

The breakroom door was ajar, and as Minjeong pushed it open, something in the air shifted. Her breath hitched. A scent, warm and delicate, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was unmistakable: vanilla, butter, and the faintest hint of lavender. Her instincts stirred before she could stop them, her wolf perking up like it had just found something—someone—important.

Minjeong froze mid-step, her eyes scanning the room. A tray of cookies sat on the counter, golden and fresh, a few crumbs scattered around it. She frowned slightly, glancing at the lone figure sitting at the small table in the corner.

You.

Your head was bent over a book, a steaming cup of tea beside you. You looked so at ease, oblivious to the chaos of the office just outside the door. The moment felt oddly intimate, as though Minjeong had stepped into a scene she wasn’t meant to disturb. Her wolf growled softly in approval, a low hum of recognition.

She shook her head, forcing herself to move. Minjeong was here to grab a coffee, not to—…whatever this was.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice even. You looked up, startled, your eyes meeting hers. For a moment, Minjeong forgot how to breathe.

“Oh, good morning,” you replied, offering a shy smile. “You must be the new manager. Minjeong, right?”

Hearing her name in your voice made something in her chest tighten. She gave a curt nod. “That’s right. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, setting your book down. “I work in marketing. I, um, bake cookies for the team on Fridays. I hope that’s okay?”

Minjeong blinked. You thought she might disapprove? She glanced at the tray again, her fingers twitching with the urge to grab one. “It’s… nice. I’m sure the team appreciates it.”

Your smile widened slightly, and Minjeong felt her heartbeat quicken. She hated how her composure wavered under your gaze, like you could see right through the layers she’d carefully built around herself.

“Would you like one?” you offered, gesturing to the cookies.

Minjeong hesitated. Something about the idea of taking one felt too personal, but the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation made it impossible to refuse.

“Sure,” she said, stepping closer. She picked one up, the warm cookie soft against her fingertips. She bit into it, and the taste was as comforting as the scent that lingered in the room.

“It’s good,” she said after a moment, keeping her tone neutral.

“Thank you,” you said softly. There was a flicker of something in your expression, something almost… hopeful. Minjeong quickly looked away, busying herself with pouring a cup of coffee.

“Do you bake often?” she asked, more to fill the silence than out of genuine curiosity.

“Pretty often,” you said, shrugging lightly. “It’s kind of my way of relaxing. Helps me feel grounded, you know?”

Minjeong wouldn’t know. Relaxation wasn’t something she indulged in. But she nodded anyway, sipping her coffee. The warmth didn’t quite reach the tightness in her chest.

She lingered longer than she intended, watching as you returned to your book, completely at ease. The contrast between your serenity and her constant self-discipline was almost jarring. But it was the scent that stayed with her long after she left the breakroom, weaving itself into her thoughts and refusing to let go.

--

By the end of the day, Minjeong was mentally exhausted. Meetings, presentations, and the constant effort to keep her instincts in check had drained her more than usual. As she gathered her things, her thoughts drifted back to you. To the way your scent had wrapped around her like a protective cocoon.

It wasn’t just pleasant. It was calming in a way that nothing else had been in years. She hated how much she craved it already, how the memory of it lingered on the edge of her consciousness. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t professional.

“Manager Kim?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see one of her coworkers standing hesitantly by her desk.

“Yes?” she asked, straightening up.

“Just wanted to say thanks for joining us today. I know it’s been a busy week for you,” they said.

Minjeong gave a polite smile. “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

As the office emptied out, she found herself standing alone, staring at the breakroom door. The faintest hint of your scent still lingered, teasing her senses. She shook her head, forcing herself to leave.

--

At home, Minjeong dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She’d worked so hard to suppress her instincts, to present herself as an alpha who could be trusted in any situation. But you… you had cracked something open in her with just a smile and a tray of cookies.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a text from her assistant, reminding her about a team lunch next week.

She sighed, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t the last time you’d be on her mind.

Minjeong prided herself on her ability to remain composed in any situation. Meetings, deadlines, and even high-stakes negotiations barely fazed her. But now, as she sat in a mid-morning conference room, facing a dozen employees, her calm exterior was slipping.

She stole a glance toward you, seated across the table. You were scribbling notes in your planner, a small smile tugging at your lips. That scent—a warm mix of vanilla and sugar—was still faint in the air, and Minjeong was losing her grip on rational thought. It wasn’t overpowering, but it lingered in the corners of her mind, making her restless in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

“Minjeong, what do you think?” someone asked, snapping her back to the present.

She blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at her, waiting for a response. “I, uh… Yes. Of course.” She cleared her throat and straightened in her seat. “Could you repeat the question?”

There was a murmur of suppressed laughter around the table. Minjeong’s second-in-command smirked but repeated the inquiry about projected timelines. She nodded briskly, giving an efficient, if generic, response that seemed to satisfy the room. When the meeting resumed, she glanced at you again. You were grinning now, but it was subtle, almost hidden behind the tilt of your notebook. Did you know you were driving her to distraction?

By the time the meeting wrapped up, Minjeong was on edge. Everyone filed out, but she lingered, pretending to tidy her papers. Her heart sank when she realized you were still at the table, reorganizing your planner. Alone with you, she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

She couldn’t just sit in silence. Say something—anything, she told herself.

“The cookies,” she blurted out, louder than intended.

You looked up, startled. “Pardon?”

“Your cookies. I mean, the ones you bring every Friday,” Minjeong stammered, feeling her cheeks heat. “They’re really… nice.”

You blinked, and then—to her simultaneous relief and mortification—you burst into laughter. It wasn’t mocking, though; it was light and genuinely amused. “Nice?”

“What I meant,” Minjeong said, quickly backpedaling, “is that they’re good. Great, actually. Really great. Everyone likes them.”

You tilted your head, your laughter fading into a warm smile. “Thank you, Minjeong. I’m glad you like them.”

“I…” she hesitated, unsure of how to salvage the moment, “I’m not just saying that because of the… cookies.”

Now it was your turn to look confused. “You’re not?”

“I mean, I am saying it because of the cookies, but also because you…” She trailed off, realizing she had no idea where she was going with this. Her internal monologue was screaming for her to stop talking.

“Because I what?” you prompted, resting your chin on your hand, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

“Because you… seem to put so much care into them,” she finished lamely.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, you closed your planner and stood, your warm scent enveloping her as you passed by. “Thank you, Minjeong. That means a lot.”

She watched you leave, feeling both relieved and utterly defeated. Great job, Minjeong, she thought bitterly. You’ve officially forgotten how to talk like a normal person.

--

The rest of the day didn’t go any better. Minjeong found herself distracted during her afternoon meetings, her mind replaying your smile and the way you’d looked at her in the conference room. By the time her last meeting ended, she was ready to call it a day. She was gathering her things when she heard a soft knock on her office door.

“Come in,” she called, forcing herself to sound professional.

The door creaked open, and there you were again, holding a small container. Her heart rate spiked.

“Hey,” you said, stepping inside. “I had some extra cookies left over. Thought you might want some.”

Minjeong blinked at you, momentarily stunned. “Oh. Uh, thank you.” She stepped forward to take the container from your hands, careful not to let your fingers touch.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m not bribing you for a promotion or anything.”

She managed a chuckle, relaxing slightly. “Good to know. I’m not sure my integrity could survive that kind of scandal.”

You grinned and glanced at your watch. “Well, I should get going. Have a good evening, Minjeong.”

“You too,” she replied automatically, watching as you disappeared down the hall.

When she opened the container, the scent hit her like a tidal wave—comforting and intoxicating all at once. The cookies were still warm, their edges golden and crisp. She picked one up, taking a bite. Perfect, of course.

--

Later that night, Minjeong sat in her apartment, the empty container resting on her coffee table. She’d polished off the cookies in record time and now found herself staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment she’d spent with you that day.

“You’re losing it,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. But despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she’d been awkward today, but it didn’t seem to matter. For the first time in years, she felt something other than restraint.

Minjeong dropped her bag on the floor and shrugged off her blazer, letting out a heavy sigh. The day had been relentless—back-to-back meetings, demanding deadlines, and an inbox that seemed to multiply the moment she glanced away. Her head throbbed, and her shoulders ached from the tension she’d been carrying all day.

She moved toward the couch, loosening her tie and unbuttoning the top of her blouse. As she sat down, something soft and familiar brushed against her fingers. Her scarf. She frowned slightly, picking it up from where it had been draped over her bag. She hadn’t even realized she’d brought it home; she usually left it in her office during warmer months.

Bringing it closer, she froze. That scent. Subtle yet unmistakable—a warm blend of vanilla and sugar. It wasn’t just the fabric softener or any lingering fragrance from her office. No, this was your scent, the one that always lingered faintly when you walked by her or leaned just a little too close while passing her papers in a meeting.

Minjeong’s grip on the scarf tightened as she inhaled again, slower this time. The tension in her body seemed to ease, her mind quieting in a way it hadn’t all day. The calming effect was almost immediate, as if the stress that had piled up over the hours was being gently swept away.

She leaned back against the cushions, holding the scarf against her chest. It wasn’t intentional at first, just a subconscious reaction to the comfort it provided. Her thoughts drifted to you—the way your laughter lit up the office, the delicate smile you gave her whenever she passed by your desk. And, of course, the cookies. Those damn cookies.

The realization hit her like a jolt: she was craving this. Craving you. Not just your scent, but the sense of peace you brought with it. It wasn’t something she’d consciously acknowledged before, but now that she’d felt it, there was no denying it. You had somehow become her haven in the chaos of her daily life.

She closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the quiet moment. Her alpha instincts stirred faintly, a protective warmth blooming in her chest at the thought of you. It wasn’t overwhelming, not the way she’d been taught to fear growing up. Instead, it was grounding, like a steady pulse reminding her of something she hadn’t realized she was missing.

Minutes turned into an hour as she stayed there, holding the scarf. Her apartment, usually too quiet after a long day, felt less lonely now. But with that comfort came another emotion: guilt. She shouldn’t be clinging to this scarf like some lovesick teenager. You deserved better than to be the object of someone’s selfish yearning, especially when she hadn’t even mustered the courage to tell you how she felt.

Minjeong’s eyes fluttered open, and she set the scarf down gently on the couch beside her. She needed to get a grip. This wasn’t fair to you or to herself. Still, as she stood and moved to the kitchen to prepare a late dinner, she couldn’t help but glance back at the scarf.

--

That night, as she lay in bed, the memory of your scent lingered. Minjeong’s mind wandered to what it might be like to have you close, not just in the abstract sense but here, in her space. She imagined you sitting on her couch, sharing a laugh about something trivial. She imagined brushing flour off your cheek after a baking session, your laughter soft and sweet as she teased you for being messy. The thought brought a warmth to her chest that she hadn’t felt in years.

Her hand drifted to her phone on the nightstand. For a brief moment, she considered messaging you. Something casual, something that wouldn’t betray the flurry of emotions she was feeling. But what would she even say? “Hey, your cookies are great, and your scent calms my overworked alpha instincts”? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.

Instead, she sighed and placed the phone back down. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow she’d find the courage to say something—anything—to let you know how much you meant to her. For now, she closed her eyes and let the memory of your scent lull her to sleep.

--

The next morning, as Minjeong got ready for work, she hesitated before leaving her apartment. Her eyes fell on the scarf, still draped over the couch where she’d left it. She debated bringing it back with her, but something held her back. It felt too personal now, too intimate to casually return to the office.

With a small sigh, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. The scent might not have been with her anymore, but the sense of calm it had given her lingered, a quiet reminder of the comfort she’d found—and the feelings she couldn’t ignore any longer.

The office was unusually quiet that evening, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying Minjeong as she reviewed a spreadsheet in her dimly lit office. Most employees had left hours ago, leaving the building in an almost eerie state of calm. She liked it this way—no distractions, no small talk, just the numbers and her thoughts.

But as she stepped out of her office to grab a file from the printer, she caught sight of a light still on in the breakroom. Her brow furrowed. The breakroom was supposed to be locked after hours. Curiosity got the better of her, and she made her way over, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

Pushing the door open, Minjeong froze. There you were, sitting cross-legged at one of the round tables with a laptop open in front of you. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, a pen twirling absently between your fingers. Beside you sat a small plate of cookies—of course—and an empty mug with faint coffee stains.

“Y/N?” Minjeong’s voice came out softer than she intended, but it still startled you. You looked up, eyes wide for a moment before a smile spread across your face.

“Oh, hi, Minjeong. Didn’t expect anyone else to be here this late.”

She stepped inside, her curiosity piqued. “I could say the same about you. What are you working on?”

You gestured to your laptop. “The quarterly report for the marketing department. I wanted to get a head start since things are going to get hectic next week.”

Minjeong nodded, impressed but not surprised. You’d always struck her as someone who went the extra mile, though she couldn’t help but notice the faint circles under your eyes. “You could’ve done this tomorrow. Staying late isn’t mandatory, you know.”

You shrugged, your smile turning sheepish. “I know. But I work better when it’s quiet. Plus, it’s… nice to have some time to myself.”

There was a weight to your words that Minjeong couldn’t quite place, but she decided not to push. Instead, she glanced at the plate of cookies. “Did you make those here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I brought them from home. Baking’s kind of my thing. Want one?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

You slid the plate toward her, and she picked up one of the cookies. It was warm and soft, melting on her tongue with a burst of buttery sweetness. She couldn’t suppress the small sound of approval that escaped her.

You grinned. “Good?”

“Better than good,” Minjeong admitted, setting the half-eaten cookie down. “I think these are your best yet.”

“High praise from the boss,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. “But yeah, baking helps me unwind. Keeps my hands busy and my mind clear.”

Minjeong leaned against the counter, intrigued. “So it’s more than just a hobby?”

You nodded, your expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah. Living in the city can be overwhelming sometimes, especially for an omega. Baking’s like… my way of staying grounded. The scents, the textures, the routine of it—it’s comforting. Familiar.”

Her heart softened at your candidness. She’d never really thought about how challenging it might be for you, navigating a high-stakes corporate environment while balancing your instincts. “That makes sense. It’s important to have something like that. A safe space.”

“What about you?” you asked suddenly, tilting your head. “What keeps you grounded?”

Minjeong blinked, caught off guard. No one had ever asked her that before. She crossed her arms, considering the question. “Honestly? I… don’t know. I’ve always just focused on work. It’s what I’m good at.”

You frowned slightly. “That sounds… exhausting.”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “It has its moments. But it’s not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it.”

Your frown deepened, but you didn’t press the issue. Instead, you reached for another cookie, breaking it in half and offering her a piece. “Well, maybe you need to find something that makes you happy outside of work. Everyone needs a little sweetness in their life, right?”

Minjeong took the offered cookie, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Maybe you’re right.”

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away. Minjeong found herself relaxing in your presence, the usual weight of her responsibilities feeling just a little lighter. She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock.

“Wow, it’s already past ten,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “I should probably head home.”

Minjeong stood, her protective instincts kicking in. “Let me walk you to your car. It’s late.”

You looked surprised but didn’t argue. “Alright. Thanks, Minjeong.”

As the two of you made your way to the parking lot, the cool night air hit your faces, refreshing after the stuffiness of the office. Minjeong stayed close, her sharp senses on alert for any potential danger. When you reached your car, you turned to her with a grateful smile.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight. It was… nice to talk.”

“It was,” Minjeong agreed, her voice soft. “Drive safe, Y/N.”

You gave her a small wave before getting into your car and driving off, leaving her standing there under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. As she watched your taillights disappear into the distance, she felt a strange warmth in her chest—a flicker of something she couldn’t quite name.

Maybe, she thought as she made her way back inside, it was time she found her own version of sweetness. And maybe, just maybe, it was closer than she’d realized.

The hum of the office carried on as usual, phones ringing intermittently, keyboards clacking away, and the soft murmur of conversations filling the air. Minjeong sat at her desk, head bent over a report she had been reviewing for the past half hour. Her concentration was only half-hearted, though. Every so often, her eyes drifted toward the far side of the room where you sat, completely engrossed in your work.

It wasn’t unusual for Minjeong to find herself distracted by you these days. Your presence had a way of grounding her yet simultaneously throwing her off balance. It wasn’t just your calming scent—though that was a major factor—it was the way you carried yourself, your quiet confidence, and the little smiles you shared with everyone. She knew she needed to get a grip, but you made it incredibly difficult.

“Minjeong…” a voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to find her second-in-command, Jihoon, standing by her desk with a knowing smirk. “Staring at Y/N again?” he teased, just loud enough for a few nearby coworkers to hear.

Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she immediately straightened in her chair. “I was not staring,” she replied defensively, her tone sharp enough to make Jihoon chuckle.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.” He leaned on the edge of her desk, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “But you know, if you keep looking at her like that, people are going to start talking.”

“They’re not already?” another coworker, Soojin, piped up from a nearby cubicle. She swiveled her chair to face them, her grin mischievous. “Minjeong practically turns red every time Y/N’s around.”

Minjeong’s ears burned as she glared at Soojin. “I do not. And for the record, can we focus on work instead of pointless gossip?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “It’s not gossip if it’s true.”

Minjeong groaned, running a hand through her hair. “This is completely unprofessional.”

“Oh, come on,” Soojin said, rolling her eyes. “We’re just teasing you, Minjeong. Lighten up. Besides, Y/N’s sweet. If I were you, I wouldn’t deny it so hard.”

“There’s nothing to deny,” Minjeong insisted, but her words lacked conviction. Her traitorous cheeks were already giving her away, flushing a faint pink that made Jihoon and Soojin exchange amused glances.

From across the room, you glanced up, sensing the commotion. Your gaze landed on Minjeong, and for a split second, your eyes met. The moment stretched longer than it should have, and Minjeong felt her pulse quicken. You smiled softly, tilting your head in curiosity at the group gathered near her desk. Then, you went back to your work, leaving Minjeong to deal with the aftermath of her coworkers’ relentless teasing.

“See?” Soojin said triumphantly. “She’s got you flustered already.”

“I’m not flustered,” Minjeong hissed, though the way she avoided their eyes told a different story.

“Alright, alright,” Jihoon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We’ll drop it… for now.”

Minjeong shot him a glare before turning back to her report, determined to ignore the growing heat in her cheeks. But even as she tried to focus, she couldn’t shake the memory of your smile or the way her heart had stuttered when your eyes met.

--

By lunchtime, the teasing hadn’t entirely subsided. Minjeong was walking to the break room when she overheard a pair of interns whispering near the coffee machine.

“Do you think Minjeong likes Y/N?” one of them asked, not bothering to lower their voice much.

“Oh, definitely,” the other replied. “She’s always looking at her during meetings. It’s so obvious.”

Minjeong cleared her throat loudly, and the interns jumped, spinning around to face her with wide eyes.

“Ladies,” she said coolly, “I suggest you find something productive to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused before scurrying out of the break room.

Minjeong sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was getting out of hand. She grabbed a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to collect herself. The break room door swung open, and she tensed, expecting another nosy coworker. Instead, it was you.

“Hey, Minjeong,” you greeted, your smile as warm as ever. “Taking a breather?”

She nodded stiffly. “Something like that.”

You moved to the coffee machine, humming softly as you prepared your drink. Minjeong watched out of the corner of her eye, silently berating herself for not saying something. Anything.

“So,” you said casually, breaking the silence. “What’s everyone talking about today? I feel like I missed something.”

Minjeong’s heart skipped a beat. “Nothing important,” she said quickly, perhaps too quickly.

You glanced at her, amused. “Are you sure? You’ve been looking a little… distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” she insisted, though the defensive edge in her voice probably undermined her claim.

You chuckled softly, stirring your coffee. “If you say so.”

She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, realizing she’d only dig herself deeper. Instead, she focused on sipping her own coffee, hoping the heat from the drink would explain the flush in her cheeks.

“Well,” you said, turning to leave, “if you ever want to talk about whatever’s distracting you, I’m a pretty good listener.”

Minjeong nodded mutely, watching as you walked away, your scent lingering in the air long after you’d gone. She set her coffee down and leaned against the counter, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

Maybe… just maybe… her coworkers had a point.

The office buzzed with its usual energy as the day wound down, employees shuffling papers and exchanging pleasantries on their way out. Minjeong leaned against the doorway of her office, watching the scene unfold. Her sharp gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. You were at your desk, head tilted as you listened politely to one of the marketing associates—a man who was leaning in a little too close for comfort.

Minjeong frowned, her instincts prickling at the sight. She told herself to stay calm, that there was no reason to interfere, but the feeling gnawed at her as the moments dragged on.

“You’re always so cheerful,” the man’s voice carried across the open floor. “How do you manage it? Must be all those cookies you bake for us.”

You chuckled politely but shifted back in your chair, creating a subtle distance. “I just enjoy baking. It’s a good way to unwind.”

“Well, maybe you can bake something just for me sometime,” he pressed, his tone too familiar. The insinuation in his voice made Minjeong’s jaw tighten.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the simmering protectiveness rising in her chest. It wasn’t her place to intervene. You were capable of handling yourself, and she didn’t want to overstep. But when he moved even closer, leaning over your desk with a hand braced on the edge, her restraint snapped.

“Come on,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

You hesitated, your polite smile faltering. “I… really don’t think—”

“Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?” Minjeong’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. Her steps were deliberate, her posture calm but radiating authority as she approached.

Your head whipped toward her, relief flashing across your face. “Of course.”

The man straightened, clearly annoyed. “Oh, we were just chatting. No rush.”

“Actually, it’s time-sensitive,” Minjeong said, her tone polite but firm. Her eyes locked onto his, unwavering. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Her presence left no room for argument. The man hesitated, his jaw tightening, but he eventually stepped back. You gathered your things quickly, and Minjeong’s hand lightly brushed your elbow as she guided you toward her office. Once the door clicked shut behind you, you let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” you said, turning to face her. “I… didn’t know how to get out of that conversation.”

Minjeong leaned against her desk, crossing her arms. “He’s always like that?”

“Not always,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “But he can be… persistent. I try to brush it off.”

Her eyes narrowed, and the protective instinct she’d been holding back flared again. “You shouldn’t have to. If he ever makes you uncomfortable, let me know.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… protecting me, Manager Kim?”

Minjeong stiffened, realizing how her words might have sounded. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “I’m just ensuring a safe and professional work environment,” she replied, though the faint pink tinge on her ears betrayed her.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at her attempt to maintain professionalism. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Good,” Minjeong said, trying to recover her composure. She glanced at the clock on her desk. “It’s late. You should head home.”

You hesitated. “Are you staying late?”

“Just finishing some reports,” she said, brushing off the question.

You tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “Don’t overwork yourself. Even managers need rest.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Noted.”

Satisfied, you gave her a cheerful wave and headed out, leaving her alone in the quiet office. Minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. The lingering trace of your scent in the room calmed her, even as her thoughts raced.

--

The next day, whispers rippled through the office. Minjeong’s intervention hadn’t gone unnoticed, and it didn’t take long for the gossip to reach your ears.

“Did you see how Manager Kim handled that guy yesterday?” one coworker said, leaning over the partition of a cubicle.

“She’s so cool,” another agreed. “Didn’t even raise her voice, but he backed off so fast.”

You tried to focus on your work, but the murmurs made you smile. Minjeong’s actions had been subtle yet effective—a balance of authority and care that you couldn’t help but admire.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself standing outside her office with a small box of cookies in hand. You knocked lightly on the doorframe, peeking inside. Minjeong looked up from her desk, her expression softening when she saw you.

“Hi,” you said, stepping inside. “I wanted to say thank you again for yesterday.”

“No need to thank me,” she replied, setting down her pen. “I just did what anyone would do.”

“Not everyone would have stepped in so gracefully,” you said, placing the box on her desk. “I made these for you. As a thank you.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she opened the box, the familiar scent of your baking filling the room. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said, though the small smile on her lips betrayed her gratitude.

“Consider it a token of appreciation,” you said, your tone teasing.

Minjeong chuckled, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. As the sweet flavor melted on her tongue, she looked up at you, her gaze warm. “You know, these might be your best batch yet.”

You grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you turned to leave, she found herself wondering how long she could keep her feelings in check—and if she even wanted to.

When the door closed behind you, she leaned back in her chair, the taste of your cookies and the sound of your laughter staying with her long after you were gone.

The soft hum of music filled your cozy kitchen as the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the countertop. Minjeong stood at the edge of the counter, eyeing the array of baking ingredients with a look that could only be described as apprehensive.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” Minjeong said, her hands resting awkwardly on her hips. Her confidence, so steady in the corporate world, seemed to falter in the face of flour and sugar.

“Magic might be a stretch,” you teased, tying an apron around your waist. “But baking is supposed to be fun. Relaxing, even. So don’t overthink it.”

“Relaxing,” Minjeong repeated, as though testing the word on her tongue. She picked up a measuring cup and examined it like it was a foreign object. “Right. Relaxing.”

--

The idea for the lesson had come up earlier that week. Minjeong had been unusually tense during a meeting, her alpha instincts likely strained by the pressures of the job. Hoping to lighten the mood, you’d casually mentioned your baking hobby.

“If you ever want to relax, you should join me sometime,” you’d said. “Baking cookies works wonders.”

She’d looked at you, her expression skeptical but intrigued. “You think I’d be good at baking?”

“Not at first,” you admitted with a grin, “but it’s about the journey, not perfection. Besides, it’s fun to try something new.”

To your surprise, she’d taken you up on the offer, showing up at your apartment that evening with an apron she’d clearly borrowed from someone else. It was light pink with frilly edges, entirely at odds with her usual serious demeanor.

“You’re really committed to this, huh?” you teased when you saw her at the door.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she’d muttered, her cheeks tinged with color as she stepped inside.

--

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re going to be fine. Just follow my lead.”

Minjeong exhaled, rolling up her sleeves with dramatic determination. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“First step,” you began, pointing to the flour, “measure out two cups of flour and sift it into the bowl.”

She nodded seriously, grabbing the bag of flour. With one strong motion, she tipped it over the measuring cup. A white cloud puffed up instantly, coating her hands and the counter in a fine layer of flour. Minjeong froze, her eyes wide.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” you said, biting back a laugh as you grabbed a dishcloth to clean up the excess.

“Why does it get everywhere?” she muttered, glaring at the flour as though it had personally wronged her.

“It’s part of the process,” you said, smiling. “Baking is messy, but that’s what makes it fun.”

Minjeong didn’t look convinced, but she carefully measured out the flour again, this time with exaggerated precision. You handed her the sifter, and she hesitated before shaking it over the bowl. When a fine, snowy stream of flour fell neatly into place, she brightened visibly.

“See? You’re a natural,” you said encouragingly.

She gave you a skeptical look but allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. “What’s next?”

“Next, we add the baking powder and salt.” You gestured to the small bowls of pre-measured ingredients. “Just toss them in.”

This part went smoothly, and Minjeong seemed to regain a bit of confidence. That is, until you handed her the mixing spoon.

“Okay, now we cream the butter and sugar together,” you instructed. “It’s all about getting the texture just right.”

Minjeong eyed the bowl of softened butter suspiciously. “This doesn’t look right to me already.”

“It’ll look better when you mix it,” you assured her.

She dipped the spoon into the bowl and began stirring with what could only be described as excessive enthusiasm. Butter and sugar flew out of the bowl, splattering onto the counter and her shirt. You couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer.

“Minjeong, stop! You’re going to redecorate my kitchen at this rate,” you said, clutching your stomach.

She paused, her face a mixture of embarrassment and determination. “I thought you said baking was relaxing!”

“It is,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “For people who aren’t trying to stir like they’re fighting for their lives.”

Minjeong groaned but started laughing along with you. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

“Not hopeless,” you said, moving closer to take the spoon from her. “Just… enthusiastic. Here, let me show you.”

Your hands brushed against hers as you guided the spoon, and Minjeong’s breath hitched slightly. The moment lingered just a second too long before she cleared her throat and stepped back, letting you take over. Her ears were tinted pink, but she tried to focus on your demonstration.

“See? Gentle but consistent,” you said, glancing at her with a smile. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Minjeong watched you work, her gaze softening. There was something about the way you moved—so at ease in this environment—that made her chest tighten. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so freely, or felt this at peace.

“Your turn,” you said, handing the spoon back to her.

This time, Minjeong took her time, carefully folding the ingredients together. The butter and sugar began to blend into a creamy mixture, and she shot you a triumphant look.

“I did it!” she said, grinning.

“See? I told you you’d be fine,” you said, nudging her playfully.

The rest of the process went more smoothly, though there were still a few hiccups—like when Minjeong accidentally cracked an egg too hard and had to fish out the shell, or when she forgot to set the timer for the cookies and nearly burned the first batch. But each mistake was met with laughter, and by the end of the evening, the kitchen smelled like warm vanilla and chocolate.

As the two of you sat at the table, sharing the fruits of your labor, you noticed how Minjeong’s shoulders seemed more relaxed, her usual corporate stiffness replaced by a quiet contentment.

“You know,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in years.”

“That’s the power of baking,” you said with a smile. “And maybe the company helped a little, too.”

Minjeong’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world outside your small kitchen seemed to fade away. She reached for another cookie, but her hand brushed yours instead, making both of you freeze.

“Sorry,” she murmured, pulling back quickly.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, your cheeks warm. The air between you felt charged, but neither of you dared to break the spell.

Eventually, Minjeong cleared her throat and stood, gathering the plates. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” you said, standing as well. “Thanks for… you know, being a good sport about all this.”

She chuckled, brushing flour off her shirt. “Thanks for not giving up on me after the… butter incident.”

As she walked to the door, she hesitated, turning back to look at you. “I… I had a really good time tonight. Thank you.”

“Me too,” you said, your smile genuine. “Maybe next time we’ll try something easier. Like cupcakes.”

Minjeong laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You sighed as you stood at the office entrance, peering out at the relentless downpour. Of course, today of all days, your car was in the shop for maintenance.

“Looks like you’re stuck,” a familiar voice said behind you. Turning, you saw Minjeong, dressed impeccably in her usual business attire, holding a large black umbrella in one hand and her bag in the other. Her sharp eyes softened as they landed on your slightly disheveled figure.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing awkwardly. “Guess I didn’t plan for this.”

Minjeong tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smile. “Your car’s still at the shop, right?”

You nodded, surprised she remembered. “Yeah, it’s been a pain this week.”

“Come on,” she said, already reaching into her bag for her keys. “I’ll drive you home. No sense in getting drenched.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” she interrupted gently. “It’s not out of my way. Besides, you’ll owe me one.”

You hesitated, glancing back out at the rain. It was falling harder now, and you really didn’t want to ruin your clothes—or catch a cold. With a sigh of resignation, you nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Minjeong.”

She smiled, leading you to her sleek black car parked nearby. The rain intensified as you reached it, and she quickly opened the passenger door for you before darting around to the driver’s side. Once inside, the warmth of the car was a welcome contrast to the chilly storm outside.

Minjeong started the engine, the soft purr filling the enclosed space as she adjusted the heater. “Comfortable?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, buckling your seatbelt. “This is really nice of you.”

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Consider it part of my duties as your manager.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I didn’t realize driving employees home was in your job description.”

“Only for special cases,” she teased, pulling out onto the rain-slicked streets.

The streets were quieter than usual, most people having already sought shelter from the rain. The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers and the soft hum of the car’s engine filled the silence between you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though; there was something peaceful about sitting beside Minjeong, the world outside muted by the storm.

“It’s rare to see rain like this in the city,” you commented after a while, your voice breaking the stillness.

Minjeong glanced at you, her eyes warm. “It is. But I don’t mind it. There’s something calming about it, don’t you think?”

You smiled. “I guess so. As long as I’m not caught in it without a ride.”

She chuckled softly, her laughter low and melodic. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence again, the rain forming a soothing backdrop. Then Minjeong’s voice broke through, quieter this time. “You know, it’s… nice. Spending time like this.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. “Yeah, it is,” you agreed softly. “I guess we’ve both been so busy that it’s hard to just… slow down.”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “That’s the city for you. Everyone’s always moving, always rushing to the next thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m running just to keep up.”

Her words struck a chord, and you found yourself nodding. “I know what you mean. It’s easy to get lost in the chaos.”

Minjeong’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, her knuckles paling. “It’s harder when you’re… different.”

You turned to look at her, noticing the tension in her jaw. “Different how?”

She hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly, her breath visible in the cool air. “Being an alpha in a place like this… it’s not easy. There’s so much expectation, so much pressure to… control everything. To suppress instincts, to fit into this mold of what’s ‘acceptable.’”

Her confession caught you off guard. Minjeong always seemed so composed, so in control. Hearing her admit to struggling with her alpha nature made her feel more… human.

“I’ve always wondered about that,” you admitted. “How you manage to stay so calm and professional all the time.”

Minjeong gave a small, rueful laugh. “It’s a balancing act. Most people don’t realize how much energy it takes. How much I… how much I’ve had to suppress to keep that image.”

Your heart ached at her words. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” she said quietly. “But it’s what’s expected. Alphas are supposed to be strong, reliable, in control. There’s no room for mistakes, no room to… just be.”

The vulnerability in her voice was striking, and you felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. “You know, Minjeong,” you said gently, “you don’t always have to be perfect. It’s okay to let yourself feel things. To let yourself… be human.”

She looked at you then, her eyes searching yours. The rain blurred the edges of the world outside, leaving only the two of you in focus. “It’s hard,” she admitted. “Especially when…” She trailed off, biting her lip as though debating whether to continue.

“When what?” you prompted gently.

Minjeong hesitated before speaking, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Especially when someone’s scent makes it harder to keep everything in check.”

Your breath caught, the meaning behind her words sinking in. “Minjeong…”

She looked away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Sorry. That was… probably too much.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize…”

“That you affect me?” she finished for you, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yeah.”

Minjeong smiled faintly, her expression softening. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. If anything, it’s… grounding. Comforting, even.”

Her words sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the heater. You didn’t know what to say, so you settled for a small smile. “I’m glad.”

The rest of the drive was quieter, but the silence between you felt different now—charged with unspoken emotions. By the time Minjeong pulled up to your apartment building, the rain had eased to a gentle drizzle, the sky still heavy with clouds.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, your voice softer than before.

Minjeong nodded, her gaze lingering on you. "Anytime," she said. "Really."

You hesitated for a moment, the warmth of the conversation still wrapping around you. Finally, you gave her a small smile. "Goodnight, Minjeong."

"Goodnight, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying an unfamiliar softness.

As you stepped out of the car and into the drizzle, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Minjeong waited until you were safely inside before driving off, her car disappearing into the rain-soaked night. Inside your apartment, you leaned against the door, your heart still racing.

The office was bustling as usual, a midweek rush that had everyone scrambling to meet deadlines. You were no exception, rushing from one end of the office to the other, juggling an armful of documents and a coffee mug you had precariously balanced on top of the stack.

“Y/N, do you need a hand with that?” someone called, but you waved them off with a distracted smile.

“No, I’m good!” you replied, already halfway to your desk.

Minjeong, seated at her desk across the room, glanced up from her laptop at the sound of your voice. Her sharp eyes tracked your movements, a hint of amusement on her face as she watched you maneuver through the sea of desks like a busy bee.

She had been keeping an eye on you more often lately, though she wasn’t sure if it was her alpha instincts or something else entirely. Either way, she couldn’t help but smile softly when you finally made it to your desk, setting the pile down with a triumphant huff.

But just as you turned to head toward the breakroom, chaos unfolded in the blink of an eye.

One of the office assistants, rushing by with a loaded cart of supplies, misjudged the narrow space near the staircase. The cart clipped the corner of your desk, sending its contents tumbling. You instinctively stepped back to avoid the spill, but the assistant, flustered and off-balance, accidentally bumped into you.

The world seemed to tilt as you stumbled backward, the edge of the staircase suddenly far too close. Your heart leapt into your throat as your heel missed the step, and you felt yourself start to fall.

“Y/N!”

Before you could process what was happening, strong arms wrapped around you, yanking you back from the brink. The momentum sent both of you tumbling onto the floor, but Minjeong’s body cushioned your fall.

The office fell into stunned silence. Everyone froze, eyes wide as they processed what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Minjeong’s voice was low and urgent, her breath warm against your ear. Her arms remained firmly around you, as if afraid to let go.

You nodded shakily, your hands clutching at her blazer for support. “Y-Yeah. I think so.”

Her eyes scanned you, sharp and precise, searching for any sign of injury. When she was satisfied that you were unharmed, her gaze shifted, hardening as it landed on the assistant who had caused the commotion.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped, her tone cutting through the room like a blade.

The assistant stammered, their face pale. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

A low growl rumbled in Minjeong’s chest, primal and protective, sending a chill through the room. The sound was quiet but unmistakable, and it made everyone within earshot tense. Even the assistant, who had been scrambling to pick up the spilled supplies, froze in place.

“Minjeong,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m okay. It’s fine.”

Her growl subsided at the sound of your voice, her grip on you loosening slightly. She exhaled deeply, the tension in her shoulders easing as she looked down at you.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening but still tinged with concern.

You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “I promise. Thank you for catching me.”

Minjeong blinked, as though coming back to herself. She realized then that she was still holding you, her arms wrapped securely around your waist. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly helped you to your feet, clearing her throat.

“I…sorry,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s okay,” you said, your smile turning playful. “You kind of saved my life, you know.”

Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smile forming despite her embarrassment. “Just doing my job.”

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your coworkers slowly returned to their tasks, though not without casting curious glances in your direction. The assistant apologized profusely before hurriedly cleaning up the mess, clearly eager to avoid Minjeong’s wrath.

You crouched down to help pick up the scattered papers, but Minjeong stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“Let them handle it,” she said firmly. “You should sit down and rest.”

“Minjeong, I’m fine,” you insisted, but the look in her eyes told you there was no arguing with her.

“Please,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost pleading.

The softness in her tone caught you off guard, and you relented with a small nod. She guided you back to your desk, her hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment before she stepped away to check on the situation.

For the rest of the day, Minjeong stayed close, her presence a constant source of reassurance. Whenever you caught her glancing in your direction, her eyes filled with concern, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest.

And though you didn’t say it out loud, a part of you felt safer knowing she was there.

The days had grown longer and more vibrant since Minjeong and Y/N’s near accident on the stairs. Minjeong had become more protective than ever, though she masked it with her usual calm demeanor. But something had shifted between them. The air felt heavier when they were together, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of them was ready to address fully—until today.

Minjeong stood by her office window, staring out at the city skyline. She had been rehearsing her words all morning, a coffee mug clutched tightly in her hand. Her assistant had noticed the alpha’s uncharacteristic hesitation and wisely decided not to interrupt her.

“You’ve got this,” Minjeong muttered to herself. She took a deep breath, set her mug down, and strode confidently out of her office. But as soon as she approached Y/N’s desk, her composure wavered. The omega was typing away, her brow furrowed in concentration, and Minjeong couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Y/N?” Minjeong’s voice came out softer than she intended. Y/N looked up, her expression brightening immediately.

“Oh, hey, Minjeong. What’s up?”

The alpha shifted on her feet, suddenly hyper-aware of how many people were around. She cleared her throat. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Sure. Just let me finish this email.”

A few moments later, they were tucked away in an empty conference room. Minjeong closed the door behind them, her heart pounding.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Minjeong said quickly, then winced at how abrupt she sounded. She took another deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “Actually, I… I wanted to ask you something.”

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity replacing her concern. “Okay?”

“Would you… would you like to go out for coffee with me?” Minjeong’s words came out in a rush, her cheeks tinging pink. “I mean, just the two of us. Not as coworkers. Just as… us.”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting in surprise. For a moment, Minjeong feared she had misread everything. But then, a slow smile spread across Y/N’s face, and she nodded.

“I’d like that,” Y/N said softly.

Relief flooded through Minjeong, and she couldn’t stop the grin that broke across her face. “Great. How about tonight?”

Y/N’s smile widened. “Tonight sounds perfect.”

--

The coffee shop Minjeong chose was cozy and tucked away in a quieter part of the city. It was the kind of place where people came to unwind, with warm lighting, soft jazz music playing in the background, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Minjeong had arrived early, her nerves getting the better of her.

She had just finished checking her reflection in her phone screen for the tenth time when Y/N walked in. The sight of her took Minjeong’s breath away. Y/N wasn’t dressed in her usual office attire but in a casual sweater and jeans that somehow made her look even more stunning.

“Hey,” Y/N said, smiling as she approached the table.

“Hey,” Minjeong replied, standing awkwardly before motioning for Y/N to sit. “You look… great.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You do too.”

They ordered their drinks, and for a while, the conversation was light and easy. They talked about work, the rainstorm earlier in the week, and the latest office gossip. But as the evening wore on, the conversation turned more personal.

“I’ve always loved coffee shops like this,” Y/N said, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. “They remind me of home.”

“Home?” Minjeong asked, leaning forward.

Y/N nodded. “I grew up in a small town. There was this little café where everyone would gather. It’s where I first started baking, actually. The owner let me use the kitchen after hours to experiment with recipes.”

Minjeong smiled, picturing a younger Y/N covered in flour and determinedly mixing batter. “That sounds… nice. Peaceful.”

“It was,” Y/N said wistfully. “But I wanted more than a small-town life. So, I moved here. It’s been good, but sometimes I miss how simple things were back then.”

Minjeong nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I get that. The city can be overwhelming, especially when you feel like you have to constantly prove yourself.”

Y/N looked at her, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Is that how you feel?”

Minjeong hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Being an alpha in a corporate world like ours… it’s complicated. People expect you to be strong, assertive, always in control. But sometimes, I just want to… not have to be any of those things.”

Y/N’s gaze softened. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” Minjeong admitted. “But then there are moments that make it worth it. Moments like this.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her cheeks flushing. “Minjeong…”

The alpha shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Sorry, that probably sounded cheesy.”

“No,” Y/N said quickly, her voice earnest. “It didn’t. I… I’m glad you asked me out tonight.”

Minjeong’s smile widened. “Me too.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking, the hours slipping away unnoticed. By the time they left the café, the city was quiet, the streets glistening under the soft glow of streetlights. Minjeong insisted on driving Y/N home again, and this time, the car ride was filled with comfortable silence and shared smiles.

When they reached Y/N’s apartment building, Minjeong walked her to the door.

“Thanks for tonight,” Y/N said, her voice soft.

“Thank you,” Minjeong replied. “I… really enjoyed it.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Me too.”

For a moment, they stood there, the world around them fading away. Then Y/N leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Minjeong’s cheek. “Goodnight, Minjeong.”

The alpha’s heart raced as she watched Y/N disappear into the building, her hand unconsciously brushing the spot where Y/N’s lips had touched her skin. She stood there for a moment longer, a smile spreading across her face.

Tonight had been perfect.

The day began like any other—files to review, meetings to attend, and the faint aroma of coffee and paper wafting through the office. Y/N was unusually quiet that morning, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a subtle tenseness that Minjeong couldn’t ignore. Though Y/N smiled politely when spoken to, her eyes seemed distant, her body language subdued.

Minjeong noticed immediately. She always did.

From her office, she watched Y/N shuffle through her tasks with uncharacteristic sluggishness. Something was wrong, and the faint prickling of her alpha instincts told her it was more than just a bad day. She tried to focus on her own work, but her gaze kept drifting to Y/N’s desk. It wasn’t until the omega abruptly stood, gripping the edge of her desk for support, that Minjeong’s concern sharpened into alarm.

Y/N’s scent shifted—a faint, sweet warmth that drifted into the air, growing stronger by the second. Minjeong stiffened, her instincts roaring to attention as she recognized the telltale signs of an omega entering an unexpected heat. Around the office, other alphas subtly straightened, their noses twitching as they picked up on the scent. Minjeong’s jaw clenched.

She was out of her office in seconds, crossing the floor to Y/N’s desk. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but firm enough to cut through Y/N’s haze.

Y/N turned to her, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “I… I think…” Her voice wavered, and she swayed slightly on her feet.

“Come with me,” Minjeong said, stepping closer. She gently placed a hand on Y/N’s arm, steadying her. The touch seemed to ground the omega, and she nodded, leaning into Minjeong’s support. Minjeong’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in Y/N’s expression, but she pushed it aside. Right now, Y/N needed her.

The other employees were starting to notice, their whispers and curious glances only heightening Minjeong’s urgency. Without a word, she guided Y/N toward the elevators, shielding her from prying eyes with her own body. When a junior alpha from accounting started to approach, Minjeong shot them a warning glare, a low growl rumbling in her chest. The other alpha froze, then wisely retreated.

Once inside the elevator, Minjeong pressed the button for the top floor. The building had a few unused executive suites that were kept locked and private. It was the safest place she could think of.

Y/N’s breathing was shallow, her face flushed as she leaned heavily against the elevator wall. Minjeong stayed close but kept her hands to herself, knowing how overwhelming physical contact could be during a heat.

“We’re almost there,” she murmured, her voice steady and calming. Y/N’s eyes flickered to hers, and for a moment, Minjeong thought she saw a flicker of gratitude.

The elevator dinged, and Minjeong led Y/N down the empty hallway to one of the locked suites. She used her master keycard to unlock the door, ushering Y/N inside before closing it firmly behind them. The room was quiet and spacious, with a plush couch and large windows overlooking the city.

“Sit,” Minjeong said gently, gesturing to the couch. Y/N obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a soft sigh. Her scent was stronger now, filling the room with a warmth that made Minjeong’s pulse quicken. She forced herself to focus, setting her bag down and taking a step back to give Y/N space.

“Do you need anything?” Minjeong asked, keeping her voice soft. “Water? A blanket?”

Y/N shook her head, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the couch. “I… I didn’t think it would happen here,” she said, her voice thick with embarrassment. “It’s never been so sudden before.”

“It’s okay,” Minjeong said firmly. “You’re safe. Just focus on breathing, alright?”

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes as she tried to steady herself. Minjeong watched her carefully, her own instincts warring within her. The protective urge to stay close was almost overwhelming, but she knew better than to act on it. Y/N needed comfort, not pressure.

After a few moments, Y/N’s breathing evened out slightly, though her flushed cheeks and the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead betrayed the intensity of her heat. “I… I’m sorry for causing a scene,” she said quietly, not meeting Minjeong’s eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Minjeong said immediately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a weak smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

Minjeong’s expression softened. “Not always. But I mean it. You don’t have to feel bad for something you can’t control.”

For a while, the two of them sat in silence, the tension in the room slowly easing. Minjeong stayed by the door, her arms crossed as she kept a careful eye on Y/N. Despite the situation, there was something oddly comforting about being here with her, away from the chaos of the office. It felt… intimate, in a way that Minjeong hadn’t expected.

“Minjeong?” Y/N’s voice broke the quiet.

“Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Thank you. For helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if… if you weren’t there.”

Minjeong’s chest tightened, a warm ache spreading through her. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said softly. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Y/N looked up at her then, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. For a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the air between them charged with something neither of them dared to name. Then Y/N’s lips curved into a faint smile, and the tension eased, replaced by a quiet understanding.

“You should get some rest,” Minjeong said, clearing her throat. “I’ll stay out here and keep an eye on things.”

Y/N nodded, leaning back against the couch with a tired sigh. As her eyes fluttered shut, Minjeong settled into a chair by the door, her posture relaxed but alert. She knew the next few hours would be long, but she didn’t mind. Protecting Y/N, keeping her safe—it felt right. Natural.

Minjeong found herself anxiously smoothing down her blazer for what felt like the hundredth time. She stood outside a cozy café nestled in the quieter part of the city, a place Y/N had chosen for their second date. Their first official outing had gone better than Minjeong could have hoped. But today felt different. She could feel the weight of words she’d been holding back pressing heavily on her chest.

“Minjeong!” Y/N’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Turning, Minjeong saw her walking up the cobblestone path, a soft smile playing on her lips. She wore a light sweater that made her look impossibly warm and approachable. Minjeong’s heart did a somersault, the kind that left her both exhilarated and terrified.

“Y/N,” Minjeong greeted, her voice softer than she intended. She held the door open, and they stepped inside together.

The café was a charming little nook, its walls lined with bookshelves and fairy lights. The gentle hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the rich scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries. They found a quiet corner, and as they settled into their seats, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she looked around.

“This place is lovely,” Y/N said, her hands wrapping around the warm cup of tea the barista had just placed in front of her. “I can’t believe I haven’t been here before.”

Minjeong nodded, watching her as she spoke. She loved how Y/N’s voice carried a gentle lilt, how her presence seemed to soften even the sharpest edges of Minjeong’s restless mind.

“You’re the one who suggested it,” Minjeong said, a teasing glint in her eyes. “But I agree. It’s... cozy.”

Y/N chuckled softly, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. Minjeong felt the tension in her shoulders ease, but the words she needed to say lingered at the back of her throat, refusing to come out. It wasn’t until Y/N leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand and looking at her with those impossibly kind eyes, that Minjeong realized she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice hesitant. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh? What is it?”

Minjeong hesitated, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I... I like you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “A lot. More than I think I even realized at first.”

Y/N’s smile grew, and she leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable for a moment. Minjeong’s heart pounded in the silence that followed, her mind racing with every worst-case scenario.

“You’re really bad at hiding it, you know,” Y/N finally said, her tone playful. “I’ve known for a while.”

Minjeong blinked, stunned. “You... knew?”

“Of course I did.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re not exactly subtle, Minjeong. The lingering stares, the way you always find excuses to be near me... It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

Minjeong felt her face heat up, and she ducked her head slightly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was waiting for you to,” Y/N admitted, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to rush you. Besides, I liked seeing you figure it out on your own. It made it feel... genuine.”

Minjeong looked up, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. There was no teasing in her gaze now, only warmth and sincerity. Something inside Minjeong eased, and for the first time, she allowed herself to smile fully.

“I don’t know why I was so scared,” Minjeong said, her voice barely audible. “I just... didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re important to me.”

Y/N reached across the table, her hand resting lightly on Minjeong’s. “And you’re important to me, too. More than you probably realize.”

The gentle weight of Y/N’s hand against hers sent a wave of warmth through Minjeong, and she squeezed it lightly. For a moment, the world outside the café faded away, leaving only the two of them in their little corner of peace.

As they left the café, the cool evening air greeted them. They walked side by side, the city’s lights casting a soft glow around them. When they reached Y/N’s building, she turned to Minjeong, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“Thank you for tonight,” Y/N said. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” Minjeong replied, her voice gentle. She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Y/N... can I—?”

Y/N didn’t let her finish. Smiling, she closed the small distance between them, standing on her toes to press a soft, lingering kiss to Minjeong’s lips. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when Minjeong responded, cupping Y/N’s face with trembling hands, it deepened into something that felt like a promise.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N’s eyes were bright, and Minjeong felt like she could conquer the world. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N said softly, her voice laced with something Minjeong couldn’t quite place but knew she never wanted to lose.

Minjeong nodded, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Tomorrow.”

As she walked away, Minjeong felt lighter than she had in years. She didn’t just feel like an alpha or a manager or a woman trying to navigate the complexities of life in the city. She felt like someone who had finally found home.

The soft hum of the oven filled Minjeong’s cozy apartment, mingling with the warm aroma of freshly baked cookies. It was a stark contrast to the quiet professionalism that usually defined their weekdays at the office. Here, away from deadlines and meetings, the world felt smaller, simpler—just the two of them, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

Y/N stood at the counter, hands dusted with flour as she worked dough into perfectly round shapes. Her laugh was light as she glanced over at Minjeong, who was struggling with her own misshapen attempts.

“How do you make it look so easy?” Minjeong grumbled, holding up a lumpy ball of dough that barely resembled a circle. Her lips were slightly pursed in concentration, but her cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“Years of practice,” Y/N teased, leaning closer to inspect Minjeong’s work. “But hey, this one’s not bad.” She picked up the lopsided creation and held it between her fingers. “See? Almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Minjeong raised a playful eyebrow. “Harsh.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling as she turned back to her tray. “You’ll get there. Eventually.”

Minjeong rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. She set down her latest attempt and stepped closer to Y/N, brushing her hands on her apron. “You’re just showing off now.”

“And?” Y/N smirked, her tone light and teasing.

The playful banter filled the room, a rhythm they had fallen into so naturally that it felt like second nature. It was hard to believe that just months ago, Minjeong had been too nervous to even compliment Y/N’s cookies at work. Now, she was elbow-deep in cookie dough, laughing at her own failures with someone who had become the most important part of her life.

Minjeong reached over and stole a small pinch of dough from Y/N’s tray. Before Y/N could protest, Minjeong popped it into her mouth with a smug look.

“Minjeong!” Y/N gasped, her hands on her hips. “You’re going to throw off the balance!”

“I’ll risk it,” Minjeong said, her voice muffled by the dough. She grinned and leaned on the counter, watching as Y/N shook her head, half-exasperated and half-amused.

“You’re impossible,” Y/N said, but her tone lacked any real heat.

Minjeong’s gaze softened as she watched Y/N’s smile linger, even as she pretended to scold. This was the kind of happiness Minjeong had never thought she’d find—effortless, genuine, and entirely tied to the person standing in front of her.

The oven timer beeped, pulling Minjeong from her thoughts. Y/N moved to grab a mitt and carefully pulled out the tray, setting it on the counter. The cookies were golden brown, their edges crisp and centers soft. Minjeong leaned closer, inhaling deeply.

“Smells amazing,” she murmured.

“Of course it does,” Y/N replied, feigning pride. “It’s my recipe, after all.”

Minjeong chuckled and grabbed two mugs from a cabinet. “Milk or tea?” she asked, holding them up.

“Milk,” Y/N said, her tone definitive. “Cookies without milk are just sad.”

Minjeong nodded in agreement and poured two glasses of milk, setting them down on the small table in the living room. She returned to the kitchen and began transferring cookies onto a plate, doing her best to avoid the ones she’d shaped—those would stay hidden for now.

Y/N noticed and nudged her. “They all go on the plate, Minjeong. Even the… unique ones.”

“Fine,” Minjeong sighed, but she couldn’t stop smiling as she added the misshapen cookies to the plate.

Once the cookies were ready, they settled on the couch together, the plate balanced between them. Rain pattered softly against the windows, and the warm glow of a single lamp bathed the room in a cozy light. It felt like a scene out of a movie—a peaceful, domestic moment that neither of them wanted to end.

“I never thought I’d be here,” Minjeong admitted after a long stretch of comfortable silence. She glanced at Y/N, her expression thoughtful. “With someone who makes me feel so… grounded.”

Y/N looked at her, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in Minjeong’s voice. She set down her cookie and turned to face her fully. “You mean that?”

Minjeong nodded, her gaze steady. “I’ve spent so much time trying to keep my instincts in check, trying to be the kind of alpha who doesn’t make people uncomfortable. But with you…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I don’t feel like I have to hide anything.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she smiled softly. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, Minjeong. I like you just the way you are.”

The sincerity in her voice made Minjeong’s heart ache in the best way. She reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Y/N squeezed her hand gently, her eyes shining with warmth. “For what?”

“For being you,” Minjeong replied. “For making me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong.”

The moment stretched between them, filled with unspoken emotions that didn’t need words. Minjeong leaned closer, her eyes flicking to Y/N’s lips for just a second before she pulled back, her cheeks pink.

Y/N chuckled, reaching for another cookie. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Minjeong groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Y/N teased, biting into her cookie.

Despite her embarrassment, Minjeong couldn’t help but smile. She leaned back against the couch, her hand still intertwined with Y/N’s. The scent of cookies lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest trace of Y/N’s calming scent. a/n: sigh, i kinda gave up on this one halfway through😭😭 the burnout is real you guys.

[doomhands-jr]

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Needles, underage drinking, explicit language. This is the last filler chapter before shit starts picking up again.

Masterlist

Thanks to @flowerynerds for the banner!

Thanks to @throughwoodsanddirt for the beta!

______________

The late morning streamed into your room, flooding the ornamental rug in dappled sun. A light snow had begun collecting at the bottom of your window, but the cloud cover wasn’t yet dense enough to obscure the light. 

You’d woken up several hours ago but hadn’t worked up the wherewithal to drag yourself out of bed. Instead, you’d spent the time scrolling through various social media apps, keeping up to date with how your friends were spending their winter break. 

Your mom had Facetimed you that morning to check in. She’d updated you all about the trip she and your father were on. Several prominent members from a network of churches in the region had flown to some obscure part of Africa and were currently building a school and a church. They were planning to open it on Christmas Eve and have a dedication ceremony. They’d also purchased toys for the kids to open on Christmas morning. Her excitement poured through on her face and in her voice, and despite your reservations about missions trips, you smiled. 

As much as you wished middle-class families could participate in philanthropy and still respect the cultural belief systems of the people they were visiting, a school was a school, and you hoped it would be a net positive to the village. 

Once you got off the phone with her, your stomach began to rumble, so you rolled over and dug through a drawer in your nightstand you’d designated as your snack drawer until you pulled out a pack of cinnamon pop-tarts. Probably not the healthiest breakfast you could have chosen, but whatever—you ate them without tasting, continuing to scroll while your thoughts drifted to yesterday.

You heaved a sigh, unsure how to proceed with Noah. He seemed like he was the real deal, but then again, he had seemed like that before and ended up hurting you anyway. Now, he was weaseling his way back into your heart, burrowing under your skin and making himself comfortable as an uninvited guest. Worse still, you found yourself growing soft for him, which was a problem for you.  

It was possible that you were blinded by your attraction to him, giving him the benefit of the doubt because you were naïve and wanted him to be better than he was. 

But yesterday, he’d treated you with more respect than you’d ever received from a man. It didn’t feel performative, either… Your intuition told you he was being honest, but even if he wanted to do better—was he capable? Could he turn his behavior around that easily? Was it all an act just to get back into your good graces? 

You came upon a video that broke you out of your thoughts. Ava had posted herself and her little cousins playing some card game you didn’t recognize. You smiled, noticing how old they were getting. You’ve been close with Ava’s family since middle school and remember when her cousins were first born. As much as Ava fought with her parents, her cousins were always a soft spot for her. 

You replayed the video, brushing the crumbs off your shirt when you heard a knock at your door. 

Speak of the devil…

Cautiously, you slid off your bed and padded over to the doorway, opening it to find a very out-of-breath and sweaty Noah in a black tracksuit and puffer jacket. Impressive, in light of the cold. 

“Hi?” you said, the question likely as evident on your face as it was in your voice. 

“Hey,” he said, watching you observe the sweat that clung to his forehead. “I jogged here.” 

“I can see that,” you replied, fighting a smile. “What’s up?” 

“Do you wanna come work out?” he asked.

Your face contorted with confusion. “Work out? Right now?” you asked, leaning back into your room and checking the weather on the other side of the window. “It’s snowing.” 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “The gym isn’t that far away. I was on my way and thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to join.” 

You pouted. “Gross.” 

Noah’s face scrunched up as he snickered at you. “Come on,” he pressed. “It won’t be that bad.”  

You wrinkled your nose. “It sounds hard.” 

Noah rolled his eyes. “Go get changed. We’re going to the gym.” 

____________

“Ten,” Noah breathed. “Alright, you can do it. Give me two more and then you’re done.” 

You tensed your whole body, squeezing your core as he’d instructed, the iron bar heavy across your shoulders, knurling cutting into your skin and bruising the back of your neck. 

“I don’t understand why you want to see me suffer so badly,” you panted, struggling under the weight.  

Noah laughed. “Call it a kink. Come on, you can do it.” 

You flushed at his remark, diverting your gaze from his for a moment to collect yourself, and when you locked eyes with him once again in the mirror in front of you, his expression told you he knew exactly where your mind had gone. 

He stood behind you, arms outstretched and ready to catch the bar should you fail. You dipped down into a squat, legs straining to keep you balanced and steady, and then with monumental effort, you brought yourself back up to standing. 

“One more,” he said, voice coming out low and soft to soothe against the burn you felt in your thighs. “I’ve got you.” 

You didn’t think you could do it, every muscle protesting against you, but you’d come this far. You dipped down once more, feeling your legs start to give out. When you got to the lowest point of the squat, you got stuck, legs beginning to give out under the weight of the iron. 

“Come on, get it up,” Noah said, voice gaining in volume. You squeezed your eyes shut, gritting your teeth as you concentrated on standing. A few more moments of strain, and then Noah’s hands grasped you around your middle, warm and firm on either side, holding you steady. He added just enough leverage that slowly, inch by inch, you moved the bar until you were back to standing. 

As soon as you re-racked the bar, you collapsed onto the black rubber mat of the gym floor. Sprawled out, chest heaving to catch your breath, you looked over to Noah, who fought to hide a smile behind a hand that pretended to scratch at his lip. 

“And you willingly subject yourself to this kind of torture?” you said, legs somewhere between numb and burning. You kneaded the soft flesh, trying to bring back sensation into the limbs, now draped uselessly in front of you.

“Give it a few tries. You’ll get addicted to it,” he said, taking a seat next to you and removing the cap from his water bottle. 

The gym he’d taken you to was in an old warehouse that had used to store lumber, Noah had mentioned on the snowy walk there. Inside, an array of rusted equipment littered the room with no real rhyme or reason. You had no idea what most of it was even used for. 

The gym was mostly empty on a Thursday morning. Across the room, a middle-aged man performed set after set of bicep curls in front of the mirror. In the corner, a thirty-something woman jogged on a treadmill, and two teenage boys took turns bench pressing, which you only knew because Noah had given you a run-down of the most basic strength training exercises, as well as lectured you on why they were so important. 

“You can either choose to suffer in ways you can control now or be forced to suffer in ways you can’t control later,” he said. 

You rolled your head across your shoulders to look at him. “What are you even talking about?” 

He rested his weight behind him on his palms and looked down at you with a patient sort of condescension. 

“You’re young and fit now,” he said, “but that goes away more and more every year. Pretty soon, you’ll wake up with back pain and hip pain and all that other stuff. The longer you let it go, the worse it gets, and the longer it takes to fix. If you build a good foundation now, it’s a lot easier to maintain.” 

“Ugh,” you scoffed, leaning back onto the floor and staring at the metal roof above. He had a point, but you hated when he got all preachy—you’d had enough of that in your life. “What got you into working out?” 

“My job,” he said. “It’s really hard on the body—too much repetitive motion.” As if to hammer his previous point home, he hoisted himself up by the side of the squat rack and began loading heavy iron plates onto either end of the bar. “My body is my instrument.” He stepped under the bar, situating himself in the center to evenly distribute the load across his shoulders before he heaved the bar off the rack. “I have to take care of it.” 

You allowed yourself to watch unapologetically, taking in the corded ropes of his hamstrings, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the sweat that dripped down from his forehead, off the end of his nose, and down his chest, pooling in the space above his collarbones. The hard set of his jaw as he focused on his form. He bottomed out in his squat, pausing for a moment before exhaling a heavy breath, then ascended, every muscle in his legs straining against his skin until he stood tall and proud. 

And then he repeated it. 

_________

“Jesus?” 

“Yeah…and?” 

Noah winced, hissing through his teeth. Every time he booked a tattoo session, he was confident that he was familiar enough with the sting of a tattoo needle that it wouldn’t faze him, and every time, he was proven wrong. 

“Nothing, I just…I thought it would have come up before now.” 

Noah couldn’t see your reaction from where he sat in the chair, but he could tell you were mulling over the large portrait of Jesus Christ done in American traditional style on his back. 

“I didn’t want you to read too much into it,” he said, sucking in a breath and holding it while Winston, his tattoo artist, colored in a particularly sensitive spot right over his spine. 

He could tell that was exactly what you were doing by how quiet you were. The Jesus tattoo had started out as a joke—something that allowed him to reclaim a bit of religious iconography in an almost tongue-in-cheek way. As he absorbed more pain from the needle over multiple sessions, however, it morphed into something else. 

In his mind, the figurehead represented a belief that suffering was ultimately the path to righteousness. Not suffering in an unnecessary or gratuitous way, but suffering as in self-sacrifice. And not righteousness in the way Christianity frames it, but from a mental health perspective. 

Noah’s mental health had always been a delicate instrument with which he’d had to tinker. Lately, he’d been learning more and more about what improves it and what causes it to tank. Humble work through low-level suffering has been the best way for him to take control of his psyche. Engaging in pleasures of the flesh was fine every once in a while, but ultimately left him feeling empty. 

It was something he supposed Jesus probably knew all along. Perhaps that what was Christianity should have been about. 

“So why Jesus?” Your curious voice broke him out of his thought pattern. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I saw it in a flash book one time and I just liked it. It doesn’t have any meaning.” 

It did, actually, but he wasn’t ready to unpack all of that yet, let alone admit it. Maybe with time. 

“I’m thinking of getting one,” you said. Noah tried to turn his head to look at you, but his artist tutted and directed him to keep still. 

“Like what?” Rather than look at you, Noah instead focused on the wall of framed artwork in front of him. Hundreds of tattoo designs hung on the wall ahead—sometimes several to one page. Noah had two of the designs on him: one a floral symbol on his hand, the other was a heart with a burning cross on top of it that he’d chosen to incorporate into his back piece. 

“I liked this little rose I saw in one of the flash books,” you said. 

“I could fit in a palm-sized flash tattoo after I’m done with him. My last appointment cancelled. Damn snow,” said Winston. 

“How much?” you asked. 

“Depends on what you want.” 

He heard your footsteps behind him as you walked away and came back a few minutes later. Noah held his breath—Winston was working on filling something in right below his armpit and it took everything in him to keep still. He wished you would hurry up—the conversation with you was a good distraction for him. 

“This one,” you said. You must have been holding the flash book up for the artist. Noah wished he could see which one you were referring to. 

“Black and white or color?” Winston asked. 

“Color.” 

“Same size as the picture?” he asked. 

“Can you do smaller? Like half the size?” 

“Sure thing. That’ll probably run you about one-twenty.” 

“What about for black and white?” 

“If you just want linework, we can do eighty. If you want shading, it’ll be a hundred.” 

“Is there an ATM nearby?” 

“Right across the street,” said Winston. “But we take card.” 

Noah gritted his teeth as the needle ran across a nerve, but he was finally starting to adjust to the feeling. It always took him a few minutes before he got in the zone. 

“I don’t want the charge to show up.” 

Winston huffed out a laugh as a response. He wasn’t overly-talkative, which Noah liked. He’d been going to Winston on and off for the last two years for his back piece, which was so large it took several sessions. He could have done it faster, but tattoos weren’t cheap, and piece work didn’t exactly pay a fortune. It took several months to save up for a session, and then he’d usually drop six hundred at once and sit for hours at a time. 

Today, however, was just a short session. He’d received a small Christmas bonus and had some spare time, so he’d called up Winston that morning to see if he could get squeezed in. Since half the town had gone home for the holidays, the artist’s schedule was open. The last thing he’d expected was for you to want to tag along. 

The bell for the shop chimed and Noah heard you walk back in. 

“Did you decide on color?” asked Winston. 

“Yep! I’m still deciding on where to get it though. I don’t want my parents to see it.” 

“You could always get an ass tattoo,” said Noah. He’d meant it as a teasing remark, but the way you paused to consider it had his gut turning even more noticeably than the needle currently stabbing ink into his spine. 

________

“You’re being ridiculous, you know.” 

Noah didn’t think he was being ridiculous. If anyone was being ridiculous, it was you. 

“It’s called having manners,” he defended. He stared straight ahead at a blank corner of the shop, fists clenched, trying to determine whether the paint on the wall was a true red or if it had a slight orange tint to it. 

“It’s called being uptight,” you said. 

He didn’t blink, set on winning the staring contest he was holding with the wall. “You’re one to talk.” 

“I’m not the one hiding my nose in a corner because I can’t look at a girl’s hip.” 

Noah rolled his eyes, turning around to face the bench and finding you sprawled across it, face down with the waistband of your pants pulled low on the right side. He swallowed, steeling himself against the sight lest his face betray his thoughts. 

“Is mocking me distracting you from the pain?” he asked. 

“Little bit.” 

He relaxed at the same time you hissed and buried your face in your arms. Hesitantly, he allowed his eyes to run over the curve that stretched from the small of your back to the height of your ass cheek and back down to the top of your thigh. 

The tattoo artist ran his needle over the stencil, outlining the small rose nestled right where your ass and hip met, just below where the waistband of your underwear would sit—he could tell from the vague hint of a tan line still left over from the summer you’d spent at the camp you told him about. 

He could picture you there, getting out of the pool with a wet T-shirt draped over your body because the church camp had rules about modesty when it came to swimwear. Despite your best intentions, the shirt still clung to your curves, the hem riding up to reveal the swell of your ass, bikini bottoms suctioned against the skin, water dripping down your thighs, and… 

“Like what you see?” 

Noah’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. You peeked at him over your shoulder with a knowing smile playing on your face.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, but it came out whinier than he’d intended. 

You burst into a fit of barely-suppressed giggles. 

“Hold still,” commanded Winston. 

You whispered an apology and tucked your lips between your teeth to keep from laughing until karma intervened and you winced at a sore spot.  

________

“What do wanna do next?” you asked, practically skipping out of the shop in your post-tattoo high. 

“Nothing,” said Noah from behind you.  

You stopped in your tracks and looked up to find him staring back down on you without any expression you could read. “What?” 

“Look around you,” he said gesturing to the snow. You did, recognizing the wind and snow could put a damper on the evening if you let them, but they didn’t have to. 

“Okay, and?” you asked. 

“It’s a fucking blizzard out. Come on,” he said curtly, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the direction of your dorm. “I’m getting you home.” 

Perhaps it was your temper, or perhaps you were still buzzing from the thrill of getting  your first tattoo but you ripped your hand out of his. “No.” 

Noah spun back around to face you. The wind whipped his hair in front of his face. “What do you mean no? I’m taking you home.” 

“I’m not ready to go home. I want to do something else.” 

Noah sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Like what?” 

“I want to get a drink,” you said, scanning the streets for any nearby bars. 

Noah crossed his arms, tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek. “Are you even old enough to get into a bar?”  

“No, but Folio said he got into bars all the time when he was underage.” You didn’t always listen to Nick when he monologued instead of completing his community service, but that story clung to your mind. 

Noah sighed again. “I told you, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. We’ve already been hanging out most of the day. I don’t want to get in too deep.” 

“You’re not,” you protested. “Besides, you may not deserve it, but I do.” 

At that, he stilled, and you continued. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to be the perfect Christian daughter, okay? I’m so tired of playing it safe. I want a taste of freedom. I’ve earned it. And to be honest, you sort of owe me after the way you treated me.” 

He pursed his lips, considering it, but you already knew you had him backed into a corner with that last remark. A moment later, his shoulders dropped in resignation. “One drink, and then we’re going home.” 

You let out a sound of delight, skipping again to catch up to Noah and then grabbing onto his sleeve when the snow caused your boot to nearly slide out from under you. 

________

“Try not to die on the way there,” he muttered. 

Noah studied the stained glass of the lamp that hung above the pool table, trying to decide whether the red spots were leaves or flower petals. Or were they feathers? 

He wouldn’t let his eyes drift lower, because if he did, he’d have seen your exposed lower back, arching as you bent over the pool table to line up your shot. 

Inside the bar was sweltering. The bartender had mentioned the temperature control on the furnace was on the fritz, and the only options were either letting it run continuously or shutting it off and letting the patrons freeze. 

Sweat beaded at Noah’s temples and at the back of his neck, causing his hair to stick uncomfortably to the skin. Taking an elastic from around his wrist, he gathered his hair and tied it in a knot on top of his head. Even the thin short-sleeved shirt he wore began collecting sweat on the back. 

When the two of you had arrived at his favorite dive bar, the Empty Keg was nearly just that—empty. Nobody had carded you, so Noah had led you to a small table near the back of the place behind the pool tables and told you to sit tight while he ordered drinks from Steve, the familiar bartender Noah had already established a rapport with. 

Guessing at what would be tolerable for you, he ordered you a rum and coke, asking Steve to give you a light pour. He got a whiskey neat for himself and then went ahead and ordered some wings for the two of you to share, since you’d been complaining that you hadn’t eaten much. 

It was torture enough watching you lick wing sauce off the tips of your fingers. Torture again when you peeled your sweater off your body to reveal a practically transparent camisole underneath. Torture a third time when, after your first drink, you asked him to teach you how to play pool. 

He’d tried to remain as respectful, showing you how to hold the cue with verbal direction, rather than being obvious by lining himself up behind you to position you with his hands. A slight hitch in your smile let him know you were frustrated with this, but he insisted. 

You made a show of bending over the pool table to line up your shot, cleavage on display, and Noah had to leave, making the excuse that he was going to buy another round. 

At the bar, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt and slumped into a stool. The bartender immediately greeted him and asked if he wanted another round.

“Yes,” he answered, without looking up from where his face was planted in his palms. 

“Girl troubles?” asked Steve as he began pouring the rum. 

“I don’t know,” Noah answered, honestly. It wasn’t something he wanted to get into, and sensing that, Steve shrugged and finished making the drinks, setting the glasses in front of Noah with a clatter. 

Noah knew you were flirting and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be tested so directly. You made him weak, transforming his resolve from sturdy to feeble with a simple glance and he felt like he was going to die. 

He was in deep. It took every ounce of his resolve to continue treating you like a normal person and not use every single trick he’d acquired in his long history of fuckboyery to get you naked and in his bed. 

It would be so easy, too. You were already doing your best to tempt him. He knew all he had to do was say the word and you’d be all over him in a second. In the humid, whiskey-soaked haze of the bar, it was growing harder and harder to think of a reason why he shouldn’t just give in. 

Except that he wasn’t ready. He knew it. If he gave in too soon, he risked throwing himself back into his normal fight-or-flight response. He’d overthink it and find some reason to pull away in order to protect himself, like he always did. 

No, this time he had to go about it the right way, and you weren’t making it easy on him. 

Without a good reason to delay any longer, he carried the drinks back over, only to be greeted with the sight of you bent over the pool table, tank top riding up and exposing your lower back and the curve of your hips and the beads of sweat that had appeared along your spine and god, if Noah didn’t want to just collect them all with his tongue. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

He inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose, saying a silent prayer to excuse his language. Tensing at his jaw and in his fingers around the glasses, he set yours next to you forcefully before taking his place on the opposite end of the pool table so there was at least something sturdier than his resolve separating the two of you. You took your shot and sunk it into the corner pocket. You were obviously hustling him on top of everything else. 

“Thanks,” you said casually, picking up your glass and sipping from it. “I think it’s your turn.” 

“Right,” said Noah. He set his own glass down and searched for his next ball, glad to have something else to focus on. 

He could tell you were unsatisfied with being ignored. You rounded the table and perched yourself on the edge of it next to him, crossing one knee over the other and swinging your legs casually. You leaned up against the pool cue, letting the strap of your tank top fall off your shoulder as you looked at him knowingly and it took all of Noah’s focus not to look back at you. 

“Noah,” you said, voice low and breathy and full of everything Noah had been trying to avoid, and as soon as his name left your lips, Noah scratched, sending the cue ball shooting off the edge of the table. 

“I got it,” he said at the same time that you huffed and jumped down from your perch. He rushed across the bar, chasing after the white ball and when he came back, you stood next to the table with your arms crossed, impatiently tapping your foot and staring him down. 

You were going to have to work harder than that to break him, though. Noah was dead-set on getting out of this interaction without any incident and it was just a matter of who was more stubborn at that point. 

Without making eye contact, Noah set the ball on the table. 

“You’re up,” he muttered, grabbing his drink and letting his eyes nestle deep within the glass of amber liquid. 

He could feel you boring into his face, but he wasn’t going to crack. As soon as you realized that, you slumped over the table and resumed the game. Noah hid his smile in his glass of whiskey and pretended not to notice the exaggerated arch in your back as you bent once more over the table. 

________

Stepping outside the bar, a punishing rush of wind slammed into Noah, causing him to stumble a bit. The conditions had grown even more severe, and Noah knew there was no way they were going to make it all the way to your dorm. 

You must have come to the same conclusion when Noah did, because you tugged on his jacket to get his attention. 

“My dorm’s too far,” you shouted over the wind. “Can I crash at your place?” 

The obvious answer was yes. Both of you knew it, but Noah was still reluctant to answer. This is exactly why he wanted to get you home earlier. 

He trusted himself at the gym. He trusted himself at the tattoo shop. He even trusted himself (barely) at the bar. But in his home? Overnight? With alcohol making his head all fuzzy and softening the lines between your skin and the cloud of lust around you? 

Noah was cooked. 

“Come on, then,” he said, turning and beginning to trudge down the few blocks it took to get to his house. 

You seemed to understand that it was important for you to be on your best behavior or else he might change his mind about letting you stay, so you silently followed, stepping in the footprints he’d left behind. 

________

“Do you need anything to sleep in?” he asked as soon as the two of you reached the entryway of his dilapidated rental. He rubbed his hands together to warm them up—they’d started aching with the cold. 

“I should be okay,” you said, still shivering despite the warmth of his home. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. He scanned you up and down. Your pants were soaked up to the knees from melting snow. 

“Maybe some sweatpants, then” you said, following where his eyes had gone. 

Noah chuckled on his way back to his room, reemerging later with the same set of clothes he’d let you borrow last time. You thanked him, expression a bit bashful as you grabbed the pile from his hands and rushed to the bathroom to change. 

When you came back, your hair was down, spilling pleasantly over your shoulders and Noah watched the way it reflected the low lamplight in waves as you moved. He’d seen you in his clothes before, but in a much different context. 

Now you were here, making yourself at home on the couch while his sweatpants and hoodie swallowed you in comfort. You rubbed your tube-sock-cladded feet together like a goddamn cricket and wrapped your arms around yourself, still apparently trying to get warm. 

“Hey, do you have a blanket or something?” you asked, scanning over the living room. 

“I was, uh,” he began, rubbing a palm over his chin. “I was thinking you could take my bed. I’d crash on the couch.” 

“What?” you said, face twisting with confusion. “Noah, that’s ridiculous. You sleep in your bed. I’m the one burdening you. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“I’d feel more comfortable if you took my room,” he said. As much as he hated his hometown, some things about it still stuck with him, and southern hospitality was one of them. 

“But you’re like, a million feet tall,” you countered. “Would you even fit on the couch?” 

“Can you just humor me?” he said. “I’ve been needing to put fresh sheets on my bed anyway. This will be a good excuse.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes as you always did—an expression Noah was growing increasingly fond of, and gestured to his room. “Be my guest, I guess.” 

He bowed his head an inch or so and returned to his room, rifling through his closet for the only other set of sheets he owned. 

It was silly, and he knew that. Part of him just enjoyed the thought of you sleeping in his bed. He liked the idea that he’d have that shared experience with you. Both of you would know what it was like to be in his room. Perhaps tomorrow, once you were back in your dorm and he was done with his shift at the factory, he’d lay his head down and his pillows would smell like you. 

Jesus, he needed to get ahold of himself. 

He ripped the old sheets off, piling them in the corner of his room and began the arduous process of figuring out which end of the fitted sheet went where. 

When he came back to the living room, you were sprawled out on the couch and with your eyes closed. 

“You asleep?” he asked softly. 

“Mmm, no,” you said without bothering to open your eyes and Noah took a second to taken in your relaxed features and how your skin glowed softly in the low lighting. 

“Bed’s all made up.” 

Your lower lip jutted out in a soft pout and Noah’s stomach did a somersault. 

“Come on,” he said, nudging you with his knee. “Get up.”

You whined in protest, curling further into the sofa.  

He sighed. It was cute, but not cute enough. “Get up or I’ll call the police and turn you in for trespassing.” 

At that you opened your eyes, shooting him a look that perfectly communicated your annoyance. He nodded towards the room. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be out here.” 

You huffed, finally heaving your body off the couch and stood in front of him. “Thanks for letting me stay,” you said in a rare moment of genuine gratitude. 

“Any time.” 

He watched you slump lazily towards his room and listened to hear the click of the door before making up the couch to suit himself. He had to grab a spare blanket from Ruffilo’s room, making a deal with himself to wash it and return it before his friend got back from visiting his family, and then spread himself out on the lumpy sofa, hoping to get a few hours of sleep. 

Sleep, however, did not come. Instead, his mind wandered over to his bedroom, picturing how you looked curled up in his bed and wondering whether you were also having trouble sleeping. 

His dick twitched. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away. 

It was one night. One night with an attractive woman in his bedroom. He wasn’t even in the same room. You were on the other side of the house. He could get through this. 

Rolling on his back, he stared at the ceiling and began running through all the steps needed to make a tapping block on his machine. 

Set X to 1.5 inches. Set Y to 2.5. Run program. Remove block. Deburr. Place block back into clamp. Select tool #5. ¾ in. drill. Set Z axis to 1 inch. Run program. 

Fuck. He forgot the next step. 

He tried to get his mind back on the machine, but it was too late. An image of you writhing underneath him flashed in his mind like a lightning strike. 

He dug his fingernails into his thigh, swallowed hard, and went back to the tapping block, already knowing it wasn’t going to work. 

Sighing, he felt around for the remote on the coffee table. Maybe he could put on a documentary or something to distract himself until he fell asleep. 

His hand clasped around the black plastic and he thumbed the power button. The TV flashed, momentarily hurting his eyes until they adjusted. 

Choosing the first streaming service he could find, he searched the documentaries and came up with one about how the Himalayas were formed, and that couldn’t possibly be sexy, so he selected it and waited for his mind to switch off. 

Two minutes into learning about why scientists have found fossils of cephalopods he heard the squeak of a door opening, followed by soft footsteps. 

Of course. 

“What’s up?” he asked softly, without taking his eyes off the screen. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Your voice came across quiet and drowsy. He looked at the clock and it had already been an hour since you’d gone to bed. 

Sighing and, with great effort, sitting up, he scooted his body to one end of the couch and gestured for you to have a seat at the other. 

“Learning about the Himalayas,” he said. 

“Is this the PBS one?” you asked. 

Noah shrugged, turning his attention back to the TV and trying to ignore the way his body buzzed in your presence. 

“Hard to believe they’re younger than the Appalachians,” you said. The documentary hadn’t mentioned it. This was information you’d apparently gathered elsewhere. 

“I didn’t know that,” said Noah.  

“Yeah,” you continued, resting your toes on the edge of the coffee table. You started doing that thing again where you rubbed your feet together like a cricket—not that Noah was paying attention. His eyes were trained on the screen. “The Appalachia date back to Pangea, and actually part of the range continues on into Europe.” 

“Nerd,” he said. 

“You’re the one watching a documentary about it.” 

Noah said nothing, but his heart thrummed in his chest. 

You kept quiet after that, the two of you watching side-by-side as the narrator talked about the four thousand species of flowering plants native to the zone, and the diversity of fauna, and how the landscapes and ecosystems around the range changed dramatically after the formation. 

Eventually, Noah looked over to see you dozing quietly on your side of the couch. He smiled to himself, knowing that it would probably be better if he moved back into his own room. 

Perhaps in a little bit, he would. It was a really good documentary. 

________

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[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

--

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on. 

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

--

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

--

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt.  “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

--

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room.  He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

--

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

--

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[love-belle]

lo mein kayamat tak hua tera !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they want each other, except for them and it's time that they change it.

or

for when you find out forever waala love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // f1 x platonic!reader // aditya roy kapur x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - this is for my desi f1 fans and desi f1 fans only ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, lilymhe, maxverstappen1 and 2,681,561 others

yourusername where is my munda kukkad kamaal da

11,986 comments

username the caption is so real like where u @

username SHE'S BACK IN INDIA LET'S GOOO

username Y'ALL PLEASE TELL ME U SAW HER IG STORY 😭😭

-> username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING

-> username not to mention aditya ALSO posted a girl on his story and she suspiciously looked like y/n ☝️☝️☝️☝️

-> username i'm going feral over this someone call the twitter detectives

username her being back in india means we shamelessly get adityay/n crumbs and im STARVING

username in love with u hello ma'am how r u real

username tere saath saath aisa koi noor aaya hai

-> yourusername don't test me i will cry and marry u on SPOT

username oh i am SO ready for the amount of content we're gonna get from her like winter break!y/n is actually my roman empire

username waiting for aditya and her to just be fucking oblivious in the comments 🙄☝️

landonorris giggling

-> yourusername i will giggle ur ass CHUP ( shut )

-> username 😭😭😭 please free my boy he has done nothing wrong

username 4ever giggling at the fact that aditya was the first person y/n hugged after her podium and they ALMOST kissed like 😭😭

-> username my roman empire fr like i genuinely felt like i was intruding on something

username no one understands her like i do we're the same people and i will make friendship bracelets by braiding our intestines together

-> username i am sorry was that extreme

-> yourusername a bit but i like your commitment

username daniel i expect u to give us updates EVERY HOUR i need to know if these bitches are hopeful or hopeless

danielricciardo i hope you know that adi is currently contemplating what to write and giggling

-> yourusername OH !

-> adityaroykapur this is why i said no to you being in a bollywood film

-> username PLEASE OMG 😭

username i love the fact that so many drivers accompany y/n to india simply bc 1) they want to annoy her 2) they want to annoy aditya 3) they want to star in a bollywood movie so BAD

-> username they're pure of dumbasses your honour

username f1 grid in india where the FUCK is my indian gp ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username howling bc girlie would have her munda kukkad kamaal da if she just became more social

-> yourusername i do not appreciate being called out like this excuse u

username cannot wait for y/n to bully the entire grid into wearing traditionals 🤞🤞🤞

adityaroykapur i love taking pictures of you 💗

adityaroykapur wdym someone prettier than yourusername exists

adityaroykapur wdym i can't keep staring at her posts forever

-> username DUDE GET UP 😭😭😭

adityaroykapur you look leng in a lehenga

-> yourusername thank u :))

-> sidmalhotra actually there's no "leng" in "lehenga"

-> adityaroykapur 😐😐

-> username someone lock away sid PLEASE

-> username my biggest concern is who the fuck taught aditya what leng means 😭😭😭

-> username my bet's on lando ☝️☝️☝️

adityaroykapur glad you liked the jhumkas ❤️

-> yourusername wore them the entire day ❤️

-> username and i'm gone

adityaroykapur chand theri roshni ka halka sa ek saya hai ( the moon is just a slivery shadow of your light )

-> yourusername hayeeee

-> charles_leclerc DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE

-> username omg

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, vickykaushal09, lewishamilton and 2,416,899 others

adityaroykapur black and white

10,729 comments

username i know who he did this for

username oh

username screaming sir why are u so

username OH MY GOD

username he posted this for y/n and y/n only y'all go home

username one chance ☝️☝️☝️

lewishamilton target audience reached 👍

-> adityaroykapur i owe you one 👍

-> username howling at this interaction

username i know that he got this idea off someone from the grid and i know exactly who he exactly got this from

-> username your case here 🎤🎤🎤 georgerussell63

-> username LMAO 😭😭

username giggling oh my god

username PLEASE I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

georgerussell63 plagiarism

-> adityaroykapur you told me to post this ???

username screeching no one's doing it like him

username i love how his acc is just promos and stuff and then this thirst trap for y/n and y/n only likee

-> username my man's dedicated idgaf

username cannot wait to witness y/n have a mental breakdown in the comments over this 😭😭😭😭

sidmalhotra as y/n says "what's the square root of 64"

-> adityaroykapur 8

-> kiaraaliaadvani ATE !!!!!!!

-> username i love stupid men and their chronically offline selves

sidmalhotra this why you had to go to the beach itni subha ( early morning )

-> adityaroykapur i brought you breakfast chup ( shut )

-> username soulmates 🤞🤞🤞

usernsme live love laugh aditya roy kapur

yourusername woah

-> adityaroykapur thank you ???

yourusername you're sooooooo

-> adityaroykapur ???

-> yourusername hey bhagwan ( oh god )

yourusername be my munda kukkad kamaal da ???

-> adityaroykapur is this your way of asking me out

-> yourusername idk is it working

-> adityaroykapur absolutely, i'll see you at 7 meri jaan ❤️ ( my life )

-> maxverstappen1 what just happened

-> landonorris did they just

-> pierregasly oh my god

-> charles_leclerc it was that easy ?

-> georgerussell63 we just had to get him to post shirtless pictures. wow.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

adityaroykapur added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, landonorris, kiaraaliaadvani and 2,528,915 others

yourusername he's my sataaye manaaye rulaaye hassaye all in one ( i don't know how to explain it, these are lyrics from a song "maahi ve" and basically it says that he troubles her, makes it up to her, makes her cry and makes her laugh, so like all in one )

tagged adityaroykapur

13,628 comments

username SCREECHING OH MY GOD

username im cryint i love tjem os mucj

username OHFJJSAJSJHHSS THIS IS INSANE I TELL U

username i prayed for this

username no bc i KNEW it the stories gave you AWAY y'all are not SLICK

username i saw them ask each other out that's crazy to think about actually

landonorris still mad i wasn't notified in advance

-> yourusername stay mad

-> landonorris you don't GET it i had to find out through COMMENTS

username in love with them oh my god

username they're my roman empire ur honour

username oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username the maahi ve reference imma SCREAM

username the way they're literally the it couple oh my god

sidmalhotra finally ‼️‼️‼️

-> yourusername no thanks to u

-> sidmalhotra badtameez ( disrespectful )

kiaraaliaadvani don't listen to sid, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU I LOVE YOU BOTH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR YOU BOTH TO GET TOGETHER OMGGGGG

-> yourusername KI I LOVE U SO MUCH WE CAN FINALLY GO ON DOUBLE DATES LIKE WE PLANNED ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username sid and aditya on a double date obviously with kiara and y/n

-> username need to see this happen immediately for mental health purposes

username everyday i wake up and see some shit like this. why does the universe hate me

username i wish y'all blocked me before posting this (IM SO HAPPY FOR U OH MY GOD)

username me preparing to spot aditya at EVERY gp this year bc i know my boy is not strong enough to leave y/n for more than 27 mins

maxverstappen1 he breaks your heart, i'll nail gun his.

-> yourusername alright edge lord no more wednesday for u

-> username CRYING 😭😭😭

username im so HAPPY y'all don't GET it i've been waiting for this for YEARS

username i screeched and my baby cousin woke up y'all im NOT playing around

username since no one's gonna ask the important question here I WILL

-> username what the story behind aditya and the jhadu photo ( broom )

-> yourusername he was trying to make a point and said that if acting doesn't work out he can start a cleaning service

-> adityaroykapur gaadi waala aaya ghar se kachara nikaal

-> yourusername no we cannot get rid of lando and charles

-> landonorris fuck you

-> username NO BC WHY ARE THEY CATCHING STRAYS AT EVERY POINT

adityaroykapur PRETTY word is real and it belongs to her and her only

adityaroykapur a living angel

adityaroykapur making my pupils dilate

adityaroykapur prettiest 💗💗💗

adityaroykapur my phone just did a backflip

-> username lord when will it be me

adityaroykapur i have NEVER made you cry

-> yourusername false u called me a daayan yesterday when i had my hair down ( witch )

-> adityaroykapur BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE

-> yourusername WOOOOOOOW.

adityaroykapur we're cute together or whatever 🥰

-> yourusername whatever 🤨

-> adityaroykapur we're cute together 🥰 ****

-> yourusername perfect 🤞

adityaroykapur all i'm saying is, it would be a GOOD cleaning service

-> yourusername never quit your day job we'd go broke so FAST 😞

-> adityaroykapur what happened to "sheesh mahal na mujhko suhaye tujh sang sooki roti bhaaye" ( basically the hindi version of "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings" )

-> yourusername that's very rich coming from u considering ur roti looks like a different country every time

-> adityaroykapur wow.

username in love u don't get me

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, sidmalhotra, lewishamilton and 2,368,257 others

adityaroykapur i promise to take photos of you forever if it means i get to be by your side. lo mein kayamat tak hua tera ( i'm yours till the end of the world )

tagged yourusername

13,178 others

username im crying btw

username GOING FERAL OVER THE CAPTION WHAT THEBFUCK KK

username i audibly gasped i want what they have ‼️‼️‼️‼️

username THEY'RE MY PARENTS EVERYONE SHUT UP

username taylor swift writes songs about them btw

-> username ARIJIT SINGH writes songs about them more like 😭😭

username forever cackling bc sis really asked him out in the comments section

-> landonorris she got no game 😞❌

-> yourusername still pulled a bitch before u

-> landonorris she called you a BITCH adityaroykapur

-> yourusername WATCH UR BACK AT TURN 1 IN BAHRAIN I WILL ANNIHILATE U

-> adityaroykapur ...

username crying bc we're gonna get aditya at EVERY gp like im not even wrong bc that man's down BAD for her

-> username simply existing gf 🤝 obsessed bf

username god i see how kind u have to others

username alright y'all time to hug a tree 362 kmph

username O MAAHI LYRICS I AM DEAD I AM GONE I AM DECEASED I AM DECOMPOSING I AM SIX FEET UNDER

sidmalhotra happy for you both 🙄🙄🙄

-> sidmalhotra 🥰🥰🥰*****

-> yourusername stay mad bc i stole ur bf ☝️🙄

-> adityaroykapur did i unintentionally start another fight ⁉️

sidmalhotra finally no more talks about how much you want her 🥳🥳🥳

-> adityaroykapur that was CONFIDENTIAL

-> yourusername tell me more ☺️ sidmalhotra

username AND WE ALL CHEERED FINALLLLY

username the it couple of bollywood AND f1 i said what i said

username need me a guy who will post me like this or wtv 🙄🙄🙄🙄

yourusername bold of u to assume i'm leaving after the world ends 😕

-> adityaroykapur we'll haunt sid together 🤝

-> yourusername OMGGGGG YES

-> sidmalhotra MEINE KYA KIYA ( what did i do )

yourusername why do u always catch me off guard i look so bad 😭

-> adityaroykapur jhoothi you look perfect ❤️ ( liar )

yourusername i love u

-> adityaroykapur i love you so much more

-> oscarpiastri we get it MOVE ON

-> yourusername 😐😐😐

-> username LMAOOOOO

username i'm in awe WE'RE FINALLY HERE PEOPLE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[italian-lit-tournament]

Italian literature tournament - Second round.

Propaganda in support of the authors is accepted, you can write it both in the tag if reblog the poll (explaining maybe that is propaganda and you want to see posted) or in the comments. Every few days it will be recollected and posted here under the cut.

Propaganda in favour of Primo Levi by @itsmalombra

What to say about Primo Levi? Jew, a leftist until his death, Holocaust survivor (thanks to beng a chemist, he was considered useful by the SS and wasn't killed as soon he arrived to Auschwitz), he condemned with decades of advance the first cases of violence from the just started Israel occupation aganst the Palestinians, having still care for the difficulties that many jews like him were experiencing in Europe. He is one of the author you have to read if you want to understand the contrast and the difference between anti-semitism and anti-sionism. The horrors he endured were the cause of hid death in 1987, possibly by suicide.

About his relationship with other italian jews who moved in Occupied Palestine/Israel but at the same time his distrust to Menachem Begin policies and latent antisionism: Levi was clearly inspired by them, but not enough to follow their example and join his fate in the postwar period to the Zionist project in Israel. He had a complicated relationship to the country. […] Like other Jews, Levi kept up with news from the region, especially during times of crisis. His responses to two of these crises reveal a strong attachment to Israel on a personal level but also some sharp differences with the country’s policies. His criticisms were political and generally lined up with the views of the Italian Left. They came to a head in 1982, during Israel’s incursion into Lebanon in Operation ‘Peace for Galilee’. […] Much of public opinion in Western countries, including Italy, turned against Israel, especially following the Christian Phalange militia’s massacre of Palestinians in Sabra and Shatila in September, 1982. Levi joined his voice to the protests, signing letters urging Israel’s withdrawal and calling for Begin’s retirement from office. In turn, he himself came under criticism from prominent leaders of the Italian Jewish community, who called for communal solidarity at such a time. Fearing an intensification of hostility against Jews in Italy as a result of vehement anti-Israel and antisemitic demonstrations breaking out across Europe, they also thought it unwise for Jews to join their voices in protest against Israel, as Levi and others were doing. Levi’s Italian Jewish friends living in Israel, some of whom lost family members in the country’s War of Independence and subsequent fighting, also spoke out against him. ‘I retain a close sentimental tie with Israel,’ he confessed at the time, ‘but not with this Israel’. [source]

Another article about this important part of him is here, unfortunately is in italian.

I don’t think there is another author as representative of the Holocaust horror (and war horror in general) in Italy like Primo Levi, considering also is eminence in contemporary literature, his interviews with Philip Roth or Judith Butler, him being the namesake of various international associations against discriminations and violence like the Primo Levi Center, the raw and vivid power of his writing and poetry:

You who live safe In your warm house; You who find, come evening, Hot food and the faces of friends: Consider if this is a man Who struggles in the mud Who knows no peace Who fights for crumbs Who dies because of a No or Yes Consider if this is a woman, Nameless and hairless Without strength to remember Vacant eyes and a womb Cold like a frog in the winter: Consider the fact that this has happened: These words I suggest: Etch them on your heart When staying home and going out, Closing your eyes and rising back; Repeat them to your children: Or may your house crumble, Illness bind you And they turn their faces away from you.

If This Is a Man, Primo Levi, 1947.

To describe his importance not only in the italian, but also european and world-wide canon, it takes months and pages of space, a thing that sadly now I don't have, but if you, readed, have never heard of him, you have in front of you so much of books, essays, poetry and writing by Levi that will let you amazed by his depth of though and sensivity, but most importantly, vote now for him👆.

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

Propaganda in favor of Guido Cavalcanti by @eresia-catara

May I add further propaganda for Guido: He's a noble, he disdains aristocrats, he was Florence's number one Server of Cunt, he was the city's faggot, he was heretical, he went on a random pilgrimage but interrupted it and managed to be buried in a church anyway, he had an archenemy who sent some men to murder him on said pilgrimage, he came back and tried to murder him back in plain daylight, he gave zero fucks about politics, he got exiled because he was considered a menace for the city. He SAW DANTE's poetical talent, encouraged it, shaped it, and through him the whole of italian literature. Think about it. Also they became besties until they evolved to a tormented psychosexual haunting dynamic (see break-up poem) where Dante himself actually exiled him. In the 13th century his poetry anticipates so many of the literary themes of the XXth century, going from fragmentation of the self (his is basically vivisection and dispersion of his parts), to dissociation from one's own mind and body, lack of identity, irony, desecration, his poetry is full of schizophrenic-like hallucinations, reading them is truly a trip, and yet his language is profoundly meoldic and sweet. And there's also gender-fuckery. and theater, of course, because his poems develop like a scene from a theater (adding layers to the dissociation). So really he has it all guys.

Guido Cavalcanti propaganda by @girldante

GUIDO CAVALCANTI PROPAGANDA ABBIAMO:

LA DISSOCIAZIONE SCHIZOFRENICA:

IL COMICO, IL SIMPATICO BURLONE, IL MEMATORE ANTE LITTERAM:

IL MACABRO, IL GORE, I SINTOMI™

IL BREAKUP TOSSICO PASSIVO AGGRESSIVO CON DANTE

in conclusione

[roonotrue]

The 12 Days of Twisted Wonderland - Prologue

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prompt: While talking with your fellow freshies about their plans for winter break, you get a bit homesick and tell them about some of the Christmas traditions of your world. So, they decided to look for a way to make NRC feel a little more like home to you before they all leave for winter break!

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and reader is called 'MC/Prefect.' MC is also directly implied to NOT be religious but still celebrates Christmas because... Lots of people who aren't religious do (me). Christmas is just awesome guys. And if you are religious then just ignore that part.

Included Characters: The Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, & Sebek), + Grim!

Warnings: Mild Swearing.

~~~

The chill in the air is nice. Not freezing cold just yet, the first snow of the season has yet to arrive, but with Halloween officially over, the rapidly growing chill in the air is a sign that winter is just around the corner.

Normally, there is a budding excitement inside your chest, almost instinctual, every time the weather starts to get colder. Looking forward to the holiday season. Friends, family, traditions, gift-giving, festive food, lights, colors...

Christmas.

In your world, it's a holiday based on a religion. A religion that doesn't exist in Twisted Wonderland (or at least not at NRC), hence, no one really knows any of the traditions surrounding it.

There is a ton of decorating for the winter season, though, that makes the whole place look like a Christmas Hallmark movie.

Maybe decorating things with lights, ornaments, colorful tassels and tinsel, pine branches, and holly is just a... Universal winter impulse- No matter what world you're in.

If you didn't know any better you'd think Christians just made up their religion to justify their decorating impulse every winter.

That said, growing up, you learned very early on, that just because the Christians made the holiday, didn't mean you had to be religious to celebrate it.

And you celebrated it every year back in your world.

But now... You'll be alone during winter break. Well, you'll have Grim to keep you company, and whatever chores Crowley forces your way to keep you occupied...

So instead of holiday spirit or Christmas gifts, you get seasonal depression this year... Great.

While everyone around you is buzzing happily, excited to get to go home soon. Gee, if only you could do that. (A dry sarcastic comment that you scoffed at Crowley yesterday and he simply coughed awkwardly and shuffled off to do absolutely nothing useful. Like usual.)

You try not to let it show on your face though, you don't want to be that guy dragging everyone's mood down after all.

Which works, for the most part. Until-

"Jeez, MC, what's up with ya today? You've been all sad-faced like a kicked pup' since we sat down." Epel is the first to notice.

You, and your freshmen friends (though Sebek might argue about the 'friends' part) all sat together to eat lunch outside, wearing a few extra layers to protect from the occasional cold breeze, but other than that it's quite nice out.

Clear sky, autumn leaves scattered on the ground, just chilly enough that if you breathe out real hard you can see your breath a bit.

Everything was just on the cusp of being a bit too cold, but not quite there yet.

Winter is right around the corner. Winter break is right around the corner.

"Oh, uh, just a little tired that's all." You quickly cover with a light laugh, looking at the others whose eyes are now on you and trying to remember what the conversation was.

"Huh? But you went to bed early last night!" Grim talks between bites of his sandwich, bread crumbs stuck in the fur on his chin that you grab a napkin from your bag and reach to wipe it off.

"Don't talk while you eat, you'll choke." You scold him, and he bats your hand away with a grumble of protest.

He hates it when you baby him like a parent with their toddler.

But if he hates it so much, maybe he should stop acting like a toddler so much, and you'd stop acting like his parent.

"Well, if it's not sleep, what is it MC? Is it winter break? Is Crowley gonna stick ya with chores like last time?" Epel cringes and Ace scoffs.

"What does that lousy headmage even do around here besides show up and push his work on everyone else?" Ace asks, leaning back resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped on the wooden picnic table.

"Well, he intrudes on our classes a lot." Jack's ears flick in irritation- one of the few students who doesn't appreciate Dire Crowley's interruptions that lead to him taking over the class to teach the easiest of nonsense that they all already know.

While there actual professors seeth in the corner. Professor Crewel actually saw him coming in once, and before the headmage could say a word, launched an empty glass beaker at him to keep him out.

You have never respected Crewel more.

Even if he made you clean up the mess.

"Say, you went to a school like NRC in your world, right, MC? What did you do on winter break back there?" Deuce asks, and that catches everyone's interest.

"Oh, right, with no magic your world is very different from ours, MC, what kind of classes do you even have in school there?" Ortho asks from next to you, and you smile.

"Well, more just general education, science, math, history, that kind of thing, and then in a college like this you take specialized classes for whatever career you planning on going into- and without magic, there are a lot more careers that humans have to do than here in the Twisted Wonderland." You explain.

"Hmph, your world sounds terribly inefficient if it has to rely on humans taking years to educate themselves to do jobs that would take magic and fae only moments." Sebek scoffs, arms crossed.

He's wearing his normal uniform, not a single extra layer, and when you offered him a spare scarf he yelled something about humans being so much 'weaker to temperature than fae', but even now, you can a slight shiver run through him every time a particularly cold wind blows through.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, well, we have a lot of nice things even without magic to help us get them. During winter break everyone got to go home to their families just like they do here, and a lot of them would celebrate the holidays..." You mumble solemnly.

"Holidays? What kind of holidays do ya have over there?" Epel asks, and something about the way he says that- 'over there' makes you snort a laugh.

Like you're just from a different country and not a whole different world.

"Lots. With so many countries, religions, and cultures- there are a lot of holidays year-round depending on who you are, your family, and where you live, yada yada... This time of year though, my family, and most of the world, starts getting ready to celebrate Christmas." You tell them, picking at your food that you haven't eaten much of yet.

"Christmas? What's that?" Ortho asks, and Deuce actually brightens.

"You told me about it! At Rook's birthday a few days ago! Something about exchanging gifts?" He asks to which Ace perks up.

"A holiday about giving gifts? Now that I can get behind!" Ace smiles, leaning forward expectantly.

"Well- yeah- you give gifts, but it's about more than that. It's about family, friends, and traditions... Every year, at the start of December, we'd go out and get a pine tree and we'd decorate it with colorful lights and ornaments, and the star on top! Never forget the star on top-" You start ranting about your Christmas traditions at home, a rush of familiar excitement bubbling up in your voice.

"And we'd spend all of the winter break having fun, ice skating, making snowmen & snow angels, sleigh rides, though nothing really beats decorating the house and tree, it's what sets the mood for the whole holiday, and the music! Oh, Cater, Lilia, and Kalim would loooove the Christmas music, it's so pop-y and cheesy, talking about the same stuff- a lot of romantic songs since Christmas is considered to be a really romantic season-" You list some things and they all look at you confused but you keep going.

"Wait, do you decorate the house or the tree?" Deuce asks.

"You cut down a living tree and bring it inside? That's incredibly unhealthy for the environment, not to mention unsanitary!" Sebek shouts, and you roll your eyes.

"In my world there a pine tree farms that grow small pine trees just for Christmas time- to keep anyone from cutting down wild ones. And there are tree skirts that catch the falling pine needles to keep things clean." You explain with a chuckle.

"Farms dedicated to pine trees? That sounds so strange. Sure, apples and other fruits, but just regular old pines?" Epel ponders, and Ace and Deuce nod along.

"What other traditions are there?" Grim ducks under your arm, settling down in your lap in a way that reminds you far too much of children sitting on Santa's lap asking for presents.

"Well, every Christmas, some people from my neighborhood would gather around and sing carols- which are Christmas songs sung by a group of people like a choir- in exchange for hot chocolate, I always loved having hot chocolate. Oh, and the ugly Christmas sweaters, I loved ranking them in my head on who had the worst, one year I saw a girl with a tacky bright blue one with hand-stitched reindeer and glitter glue- god it was awful but so funny." You pause, half tempted to grab some paper from your bag and draw it to show them.

"You know, we have hot chocolate here, right?" Jack raises a brown with a slightly amused smirk and you roll your eyes.

"And ugly sweaters, though not necessarily 'Christmas' themed." Ortho adds and that makes you laugh.

"Housewarden Vil would hate a tradition based around wearing something intentionally ugly. Can ya imagin' the look on his face?" Epel chuckles to himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Would you all stop interrupting! I wanna hear more, what about food? Is there any good food for Christmas?" Grim asks, looking up at you with sparkles in his eyes, that he only ever really gets when thinking about food.

"Ha! Leave it to you to be focused all on your stomach, Grim!" Ace teases, and you laugh, but continue anyway.

"Well, the baking was my favorite- at least to eat. Sugar cookies, peanut butter blossoms, thumbprint cookies, no-bakes, gingerbread, pudding pies. Traditionally, lots of people would make houses out of gingerbread cookies. And on Christmas day, the 25th of December, families would have a big feast, with ham, turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and candied yams. That was after you opened all the presents though-"

"Wait, so this is all leading up to a Christmas day? That's when you get the presents?" Ace asks, and you smile and nod.

"Yep, so when you're a little kid, there's this fun fairytale about a guy named 'Santa Claus' who every year, on Christmas Eve, rides out on his sleigh, pulled by reindeer, and delivers gifts underneath people's Christmas trees for well-behaved children. When you get older, and obviously find out he's not real, it's still tradition to put the gifts you get under the tree and wait to open them until Christmas day." You pause for a moment thinking before reiterating.

"Though that depends on some things. Friends for example like to be there when you open the gift they give so they can see if you like it, so sometimes they give you your gifts to open early, which is fine too! The point is, Christmas is the season of giving. Showing people how much you care for them by getting them thoughtful gifts and spending time with each other." You smile looking up at the sky.

It's getting a bit cloudy. As is your mood.

"It's also considered to be a really romantic holiday. Where couples would chose to propose to each other as a Christmas gift, or little lovebirds would confess their feelings. My friends liked the whole mistletoe tradition- getting caught under a sprig of mistletoe with someone and having to kiss whoever's under it with you- it could end up really cute, or funny, or even downright awkward." You chuckle.

The memory of two of your old friends getting caught under one, and while one made funny smoochy faces, the other was pushing them away making a barfing sound surfacing in your mind.

You wonder how they're doing...

"That sounds like a terrible tradition! Being forced to kiss someone just cuz you got stuck under a dumb plant?" Grim cringes and you snort.

"It's not manditory, nor does it have to be on the lips or anything. I got caught under it once with a friend and we re-enacted a scene from a book were the knight dropped to his knees and kissed the princess's hand." You sighed fondly at the memory.

"So it's just a cute, non-serious tradition? I bet it'd make an awesome prank for people who take it seriously though." Ace smirks, a look in his eye that means he's definitley gonna drag you into one of his backfired messes later.

"Whatever you're planning, you better leave me out of it, Ace. I don't need to get in trouble with Riddle cuz you went and used my worlds traditions to prank people." You give him a waring look and he just smiles, and gives a playful wink.

"Hey! I'm not planning anything!" He scoffs in mock offence, but you sharpen your glare.

"You better not be."

"Say, what kind of gifts do you give on Christmas? Do they gotta be Christmas-y themed like everything else?" Epel asks, and pivots the conversation back to the holiday.

You spend the rest of lunch describing more Christmas traditions to them, ones your own family had, ones others had, and even some ways other countries celebrated.

Stockings above the fireplace filled with chocolates and small toys and trinkets, Santa Claus and his elves in the north pole-

That lead to Ace making a short joke to Epel while they were walking back to class, which got his ankles swiped from under him, landing on his ass in the hallway you all burst into laughter- outside of Sebek who made a loud shout about 'making a scene in the middle of the hall being unbefitting.'

His shout drew the attention of a passing Lilia and Cater who joined you all on your walk and Ace and Grim started ranting to them about everything you'd just told them about Christmas.

You watch silently as the two upperclassmen listen, just as intrigued as your fellow freshmen had been...

Twisted Wonderland isn't the worst world to have gotten stuck in. The friends you've made here. They make the idea of going home a really hard one to think about.

But all this talk about the holidays, and the upcoming loneliness as eveyone gets ready to leave campus- leaving you all alone... It's bringing your gloomy mood back in full force.

"You really do miss it, don't ya?" Epel interupts your thoughts and you look to see him staring at you as you walk side by side.

"... I do. The holidays here in Twisted Wonderland, and how there celebrated at NRC have been some of the most fun I've ever had in my life... But Christmas was really special to me. And it was a time for family and friends, so spending it alone is... hard." You sigh, suddenly feeling very tired, despite going to bed early like Grim oh-so-helpfully pointed out earlier.

"You know, maybe you could come stay with one of us for winter break? My meemaw wouldn't mind having a guest." Epel offers, and you smile at the kindness.

"Nah, I don't wanna intrude, plus Crowley's chores aren't that bad- I get them done pretty quickly, and then I have plenty of free time to fix up Ramshackle more."

"You know, I'm pretty sure that should be Crowley's job- you already do plenty of his chores to make up for your food and living expenses. You shouldn't have to fix Ramshackle up to." Jack, who's walking on the other side of you, points out.

"Yeah, but argueing with him ain't exactly easy... I'm think of talking to Professor Crewel about some things though, since he seems more... Reasonable then Crowley does." Speaking of Professor Crewel, you reach his class room, and the upperclassmen split up, heading towards their own class.

Ace and Deuce head inside and you pause to look at Epel and Jack one last time.

"Thank you guys for the concern though, I appreciate it, really." And you turn away.

Missing the thoughtful glance your two friends share.

~~~

"So! I think we all know why we're here today!" Epel smacks his hand on the desk in the empty classroom dramatically.

"Uh- not really, but go on." Ace raises a brow, feet proped on the desk he's sitting at, attempting to balance a pencil on his nose.

"We're here because of MC! Duh!" He shouts.

"Huh? What about 'em? They're fine." Ace shrugs, and Jack rolls his eyes from next to him, swiping the pencil away.

"They are far from 'fine' Ace! Didn't you see how homesick they got when talking about Christmas!? Or how sad they've look the last few days since!?" Epel crosses his arms, tapping his foot- before stopping quickly- the mannerism something far to similar to what Vil would do when scolding him.

"That's true! I've scanned them every time we meet up, and their vital always show lower than average levels of serotonin and dopamine! I've been meaning to ask them privately if they're okay, but I have yet to get the chance." Ortho informs, pulling up a screen from his arm to show the history of the last several times he's scanned the Prefect.

"Oh, well, they have been kinda down lately, haven't they?" Deuce brings a hand to his chin in thought, and Grim- who's standing on a desk in front of Deuce- scoffs.

"Down? They've been downright depressed is what they've been! So lost in thought and stuff, they burned dinner last night staring off into space all mopy and stuff!" The little dire beast pouts.

"They miss their home- or at least their friends and family. This is the time of year, that during Christmas, they would spend with them. And they can't do that now. They'll just be all alone on campus once we all leave. That's a pretty depressing thought." Jack rubs the back of his head, ears slightly drooping at the idea of not being able to see his own family during such a special holiday.

"Hey! They won't be alone! They'll have me!" Grim shouts indignatly.

"By the seven, that's even worse..." Ace shivers at the idea of being stuck alone with Grim for a whole two weeks.

"Hey! What the heck is that suppose to mean!?" Grim growls, and Ace rolls his eyes.

"That's enough! This ain't about you two! MC is our friend! They've done so much for us, and all of NRC! They don't deserve to feel so alone, stuck doing Crowley's dirty work when they should be enjoying time with their family! At there home!" Epel scolds, and Ace and Grim look away bashfully.

"Yeah, you're right, but... What are we supposed to do? It's not like we can send them home or anything. And there's not much good in trying to talk Crowley into being helpful- we already try that regularly." Ace runs a hand through his hair a troubled look on his face.

He's thought about this plenty of time. Talked about it with his dormmates too, and his fellow freshmen, but when it comes to helping the prefect, the don't really accept help easily, nor is there much they can do either.

Freshmen are kinda at the bottom of the food chain here at NRC, even the stronger ones like them, so there influence and ability to help is very limited.

"Obviously we can't, but me and Jack had an idea! So we called you all here- plus Sebek, but he's busy with Malleus stuff or whatever- so we'll fill him in later." Epel explains and meets Jack's eye- a determined nod from him and he announces the plan.

"We're gonna bring Christmas to NRC!"

...

"Huh!?"

The ripple of shock around the room is broken first by Ace.

"Whadda mean 'Bring Christmas to NRC!?' How the hell are we supposed to do that?" He shouts.

"Simple really! I made a checklist of all the things MC was talking about when describing Christmas, and we're gonna do them! Here, take a look!" He places the list in front of them.

1. Get a Christmas tree! (Pine prefered)

2. Decorate Tree & Ramshackle - Colorful lights, ornaments, and tinsil! (Reds, greens, whites, silver, gold, & blue colors! Reindeer, snowmen, snowflakes, mistletoe & holly and more are important designs!) DON'T FORGET THE STAR ON TOP THE TREE (Star - real? Maybe? Further information needed).

3. Bake them lots of cookies! (peanut butter blossoms, no-bakes, pudding pies, thumbprints, gingerbread, sugar cookies shaped like reindeer, candy canes, snowmen, etc.)

4. Throw a Christmas feast before leaving for winter break! (Ham, turkey, candied yams, mash potatoes and gravy, other sides)

5. Get them gifts! One from each of us! - REQUIRED!!

6. Wrap them in colorful wrapping paper!

7. Hide them until the 25th!

8. Sneak them under the tree before MC wakes up! (The Ramshackle Ghosts can help, and maybe Grim)

9. Happy MC when we all come back from break!!

10. Get the Housewardens in on it? - BIG MAYBE

11. DEAL WITH CROWLEY!!!

"Well, this is pretty thought out, I'll admit, but I'm not sure how... Acheivable it is." Ortho sighs.

"Especially the last goal." Ace adds.

"Oh, don't go giving up now! When MC's doing nice things for us, or getting us out of trouble- they never give up! I know that I'm going to do everything I can to cheer MC up and make sure they have a good Christmas, even if they can't have their family with them! Are you gonna help or not?" Epel nods resolute.

"Well, when you put it like that, there's no way I can bail out now, I'd be a total jerk to." Ace smirks, sitting back down.

"Agreed. MC always helps us out when we need it, and even when we don't they're always there for us. It's only fair that we return the favor for once!" Deuce smacks a fist into his palm, with a thoughtful look on his face that turns determined.

"The Prefect of Ramshackle has helped Nii-san a lot, and is always wonderful company! Seeing them so sad lately has been worrying. If this plan will make them feel better, then I will gladly help!" Ortho gets that look in his eyes like his just been issued a challenge in a game.

"Good. Now, this is all gonna be hard to accomplish, but it's gonna be even more difficult to do under there nose! So we need help. I'm thinking since the housewardens all owe MC a lot- they might help us do this for them." Epel mentions, picking up the list.

"Well, I know Trey can help us with baking, and Riddle might help find a way to deal with Crowley." Ace says, and Deuce nods in agreement.

"I can text them to meet us in the library later to talk about it." Deuce pulls out his phone.

"Hm, I don't thing Leona or Ruggie would be very interested in helping or going out of their way for anyone, even the Prefect, but I can mention it to them anyway." Jack hums

"I think if I yeild and promise to add a few more steps to my skincare routine, then Vil might help, Rook will help no problem... We might be able to ask Azul for help with food for the feast." Epel ponders.

"Azul? Hell, nah! And be in debt to him for the rest of our school lives for a measly ham and turkey? I'd rather try cooking it myself then that." Ace groans, and both Deuce and Grim shiver in terror.

The memory of the first time they were in Azul's debt still an open wound in their minds.

"Turn you and Grim loose in a kitchen? No offense, but I think I'll take my chance with the Leech twins." Jack huffs, shaking his head.

"I find Jade Leech and Floyd Leech of Octavinelle to be very fun and kind to me! I'm sure they will help the Prefect!" Ortho says optimistically, and everyone lets out an 'eeehhh'.

"What? You don't believe they would?" He looks around at them, and Ace snaps his fingers.

"I believe that you would be the best person to ask and find out! They're both pretty fond of you, so there's a higher chance they'll agree if you ask." He announces and Ortho nods.

"Alright! I will head to Mostro Lounge first thing after school tomorrow!"

"And we'll see about cookies and talking to Riddle." Deuce adds.

"I'll see about finding some decorations, Mr. S might have some stuff we can use. Maybe I can get Leona to help pay for some of it. He is kinda soft on MC, even if he won't admit it." Jack smiles.

"And I'll talk to Sebek, he'll be in charge of getting a good pine tree- and then me and Grim will talk to the ghosts in Ramshackle to make sure they'll help us hide our gifts for them and leave them under the tree on Christmas Eve!"

And like that, the plan is formed.

Now, it's time to put it into action.

Christmas at NRC!

[ao3-rex1223]

𝔗𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔩 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢

Pairing: Ada Wong x Fem!Reader

Tags: Flirtation, cunnilingus, face sitting, fingering, orgasms, female ejaculation/squirting.

Summary: You and Ada are sorority sisters. You help decorate for the holiday party and discover you're feelings for her aren't unrequited.

You had always looked up to Ada. She’s beautiful, smart, courageous, and the president of your sorority on campus. Of course, she gets her own room in the sorority house, but she deserves it! 

You've gotten the honor of setting up the holiday party; the last before everyone goes home for winter break. Snow falls outside creating a picturesque scene on campus. Your other sorority sisters bring in treats - cookies, cakes, candies - and, of course, plenty of booze. 

“Nice job,” you hear behind you as you hang up the various decorations. Ada’s sweet, melodic voice fills your ears. You turn your head to see her smiling mischievously at you, her pillowy lips shining with pale pink lip gloss. She wears a red sweater dress that hugs her curves. Her long, creamy legs extend out from the hem line. You practically drool. What you wouldn’t give to kiss her all over…

“Thanks!” you reply with a warm blush on your cheeks. 

“Keep up the good work,” she purrs with a wink and turns to walk away. 

A few days later, the party is in full swing! Students fill the sorority house, probably beyond the capacity dictated by the fire code. You work your way through the crowd wearing your slutty elf costume; a tight, a green dress with bows and stripes, some candy colored stockings held up by garters that peek out through the bottom of your short, flared, crinoline lined skirt. If you bend over too far, your red, lacy panties show. The egg nog flows freely and Christmas music blasts on the stereo. The other students nibble on the plethora of treats scattered throughout the kitchen, cookie crumbs littering the entire main floor of the sorority house. 

You turn and look along with everyone else as Ada descends the stairs looking like a goddess. She wears a tight, red Santa-like dress with white fluff around the hems. She wears a matching Santa hat and earrings with snowflakes on them. Her red tights lead into a pair of black, pleather boots. Your jaw slides open and your pussy thrums.

Throughout the night she watches you with great interest; it makes your heart flutter. She strategically sits next to you on one of the couches and lays her arm behind you on the back. 

“You look amazing,” Ada murmurs in your ear. Her hot breath tickles your supple skin. Her free hand gently traces along your exposed thigh above your stockings. Tingles fill your belly as slick begins dripping into your panties. She moves her hand from the back of the couch to card her fingers through your hair. “Been watching you all night. Care to join me for a little party of our own, cute girl?”

You swallow hard after nearly choking on your answer. “Yes,” you reply in a breathy moan.

She smirks proudly and lets her hand slide from your hair down to lace her fingers with yours. As she stands, she pulls you up with her and leads you to her room. She closes and locks the door then gently caresses your cheeks and jaw. She leans in to kiss your neck, light pecks at first, then she begins to suck. Her hands continue to explore, mapping out your soft curves, cupping your breasts, and brushing her fingers against your sex. 

She lets out a sultry chuckle. “You're so wet for me, honey.” Her fingers begin circling your clit over your panties. Each brush across your sensitive bud sends bolts of pleasure through your core. You let out raspy moans and sweet whimpers. Her other hand grabs your hip and guides you back to her bed. You sit down and her fingers hook inside the band of your panties, sliding them off. She presses her lips to yours in a heated kiss. Her hands gently guide you to laying down while she climbs on top of you. She grinds her hips against yours, the friction an erotic delight. Her fingers pinch the lacing on the front of your dress, loosening the top so she can pull it down to your stomach. Her tongue swirls around yours. Her hands reach behind you and undo your bra, pulling it to expose your breasts. She kisses her way along your throat and down to your hardened tits. Taking a pert bud into her mouth, she elicits more depraved moans from your lips. Her hand gives equal attention to your other breast, cupping and squeezing as she lavishes the first with her mouth. It eventually glides down to caress your pussy lips, rubbing and smearing your slick arousal on two of her fingers before she plunges them into your tight hole.

“Ah…ahh,” you cry out as your hips buck against her hand. Your cheeks flush hot and red, pleasure overtaking you.

“Such a responsive little thing,” Ada purrs, rubbing her fingers against just the right spot. 

Your back arches and your head digs into her pillow. “Ohhhh…”

“Let go, sweet thing, and cum for me,” Ada commands. She lowers her head to your soaked heat and takes your swollen clit between her lips. Her tongue laps at your sensitive bud, sending you completely over the edge. 

Your abs contract and relax on their own as your climax rapidly approaches. She curls her digits into your g-spot and sucks harder on your clit, guiding you through the euphoria slamming through you. The band in your lower belly snaps as you cum around her expert ministrations. Your cunt squeezes her fingers like a vice as your body squirms, the orgasm rippling through your entire form. “Oh f-fuck!”

Ada moans as she drinks up your sweet cream. “Mmm, so delicious, pretty girl.” She licks her lips sensually and kisses her way up your lithe form. Reaching your mouth once more, she shares your taste with you, her tongue darting through your oral cavity, claiming the territory for herself. She pushes herself up with her forearms and removes her costume, tossing the cheap fabric aside. Her knees walk her forward to rest her cunt just above your face. 

Reaching up as if in a trance, you grab her hips and pull her delicious looking pussy onto your face. Her throat belts out a moan that has your own sex leaking all over again. You drop your jaw open and take her sweet, slick folds in your mouth, ready to devour this tender morsel laid out so tantalizingly before you. Your tongue slips inside her sopping hole, drinking in her unique flavor. Her back arches as she rides your face, rolling her hips and chasing her own high. You glide your tongue up her slit and rub it from side to side against her clit, drawing high pitched yelps of delight from her. “Ohhhhh…good girl…” she moans and laces her fingers into your hair, holding you in place while she humps your mouth. 

You double down on your efforts, sucking her clit harder and whipping your tongue around her tender flesh faster and faster. Her yelps grow in frequency as her climax approaches, her hips bucking and squirming, smearing her slick all over your face. You belt out a moan, sending ecstasy inducing vibrations through Ada’s delicious cunt. 

“Oh fuck!” she cries as she cums, squirting her essence all over your mouth and face like a fountain of sex. You moan and drink in her essence. Ada collapses onto the bed, barely holding herself above you with her trembling forearms. “Didn’t know you were so good at this,” she coos as she carefully crawls off of you. She carefully dresses herself and helps you back into your costume, as well. She seizes your lips in a fervent kiss before you exit her room together and return to the party. 

[ioniansunsets]

please just a crumb of heartsteel sett 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

✖ Heartsteel!Sett Headcanons ✖

✖ Word Count: 876

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Just crumbs! I am UNINSPIRED! Aaaa it's just very domestic headcanons. Feel free to ask for more specific things if any of these make you excited!

----

- He likes picking you up, he's strong enough to. You cant reach something? No, he's not helping you, he's picking you up so you can do it yourself. Huh, walking is tiring? He's carrying you. Oh damn there's a puddle, alright up we go. Sett makes sure he can lift your weight. There is no instance you would catch him lacking, man will hoist you.

- Sett is always looking for you. Like actually turning around to make sure you're in the room. Waiting and searching to see if you are still following him. Walking around a store to make sure he has his eyes on you. He likes knowing you are there, that you are near so every so often you can see his head rise and turn as he looks for you, making sure you are there. The same for when he performs! Sett is constantly scanning the audience to find your face. Hoping to see you. Smiling widely when he does. He loves you! He WANTS to see you as often as possible.

- His ears get cold! He likes it a lot when you lightly rub them, actually being able to feel the warmth of your hands heat it up. Because he works out so often he is just a natural warm guy, so he feels the cold when the wind blows at his ears. Its why Ma made him the beanie anyway. If you kiss his ears they twitch. When he blushes they get warm. When you scratch them you might hear him purr, its a deep rumbling, a warm tone.

- Sett thinks its adorable if you want to work out with him! He will spot for you, give you advice, help you every way he can. Meal plans, tips and tricks, your personal trainer and motivator. Soft kisses when you hit a goal. Big hugs when you survive a gruesome set. He loves spending time with you and if you follow him to the gym he can do just that. Tired after? He's carrying you out.

- He likes body contact. He likes when you sit by him, lying on his lap as he practices singing or rapping. He likes you holding his hand as you walk around on dates. He likes to hug you from behind as you do things. He likes the physical reassurance that you are by his side. A hand around your shoulder as you two sit and chat. The gentle touch of his hand on your thigh when you talk to him. His arms wrapping around you when he falls asleep by your side. All the small things. He loves feeling You.

- When he gets the chance he always tries to buy you thoughtful gifts. He remembers! Ma taught him well. When you talk about needing a new bag because your old one is breaking? He find the best one and buys it for you. You talk about your favorite colors and animals? He remembers! He buys you cute little gifts that remind him of that. Damn, winter is cold, you forgot you lost your old gloves? He already bought you a new pair in fall. There are cuter moments too. You bringing up snacks you miss from childhood? He learns, he bakes them for you, buys them for you, finds Someone who sells them to get them for you. He is attentive. He is an idol with money, he will do what he can for you how he can.

- If you can and show up for his shoots or practices he gets excited. Doing his best, making sure to get things done as soon as possible so he find you during a break. Happily chatting with you while he hydrates. Laughing and joking at his mistakes with you when he fumbles. You warm his heart. If you get along well with everyone else in Heartsteel he gets happier. They are like family to him afterall.

- He refuses to have you spend money on him when its band related, he gives you all his merch. He gets a copy anyway and they are YOURS. Sett is happy to see you wearing a tee with his face! Have posters of him (signed) in your room. He likes if you show him off as much as he shows you off. He loves loving you and loves being loved.

- If you get hurt or get sick he's is nervous and frantic. He wants to be there for you at all times, making sure you are ok. He frets over you, genuinely worried that a little cold will be life or death. He doesn't know how to actually help you thought, it takes help from messaging his mother and Yone to realize he needs to keep you cool, get you food and just let you rest. Which he hasn't been doing cos he's been in and out of your room non-stop. But he's learning.

- He hums a lot! You can catch him singing or humming songs while working out, showering, doing chores. He is a rockstar and music is important to him, it shows. He doesn't get embarrassed if you point it out, its more like a " Eh? I didn't realize it was even doing it. Must be a good tune." Moment.