#happy holiday season guys or whatever it is

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Declan O’Hara x Reader

Words: 2677

Summary: Christmas at the Priory gets more complicated with Maud can’t make it back from London. As Declan’s girlfriend, you try to step in to still make it a perfect holiday for him and his kids. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go according to plan. 

Notes: With my love for Aidan Turner, you guys had to know Declan would be joining my list of stories eventually! I love him so much and I’m happy to have him as the subject of my Christmas imagine this year. I hope you all have a happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and a wonderful new year! (and if you recognized the Poldark quote I totally stole, no you didn't)

-

T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the Priory, everyone buzzed with holiday spirit. Patrick and Caitlin were back from school, Taggie was busy making hors d’oeuvres for all of the holiday parties she’d been hired to cater and you were enjoying a book by the fireplace. The only one who seemed unable to enjoy the season was Declan. He stomped about, going through receipts and orders and cards. His brows furrowed and his mustache curved with the harshness of his frown. 

“I can’t make sense of any of this,” he huffed. “Everything from the last ridiculous party she planned and I still don’t know what to do.”

You set your book aside. Even though Declan and Maud were no longer together, you knew her approval still meant a lot to him. That, and now that he was the face of Corinium, he was expected to be a bit of a socialite as well. 

“Why doesn’t she plan it herself?” You asked. 

He hated getting into the details of these things. As long as there were good drinks and decent music, he seemed happy. 

He ran a hand through his dark curls and collapsed onto the sofa beside you. 

“Because she won’t get here until Christmas Eve.” Declan blew out a long, tired breath. “And the kids have been hounding me about having something here for weeks. I think they’re too cooped up. Tired of the house. Tired of me.”

Caitlin had complained more than once about her ongoing boredom. 

You brought your legs up, draping them over his lap as you turned to face him. His hand found your calf, rubbing circles to soothe both you and himself. 

“Why don’t you let me do it?”

“Do what?”

You flicked his arm. “The planning, silly.” 

“You want to plan Maud’s party?” He scoffed. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

Declan grinned, snickering.

“What?” You asked. 

He just shook his head and kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as he stared into the fire. 

-

He’d tried to warn you. From the moment you volunteered to take over, Declan had told you it was not a task for the faint of heart. Especially since you were convinced the party had to be as extravagant and special as Maud’s would be. He wanted to tell you there was nothing to prove. That you didn’t need to dazzle everybody and put on some grand show. But you seemed excited to help, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, it was nice to focus on his work rather than invitations to people he’d rather not have to see more than he already did. 

Taggie knocked on the door of his office, apron covered with flour. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Declan glanced up from his papers. Bills he couldn’t pay and assignments he didn’t want. 

“She isn’t here?”

Taggie shook her head. “I was going to ask what she wanted me to make for the party.”

They looked at each other for a while until Declan shrugged.

“I have no idea,” he said. “She hasn’t told me anything.” 

“You mean you aren’t helping?” 

Declan scoffed. “I haven’t exactly had time, Taggie.” He put the papers aside. “And she won’t let me.”

“She won’t let you?”

“No. She won’t let me.”

She sighed. “Reminds me of me.” 

Taggie muttered, while it was nice not to be in charge for one, she felt a twinge of guilt thinking of you trying to throw everything together on your own. 

“If you find her, tell her I want to talk to her,” Declan said. 

Taggie snorted. “Right. Talk.”

“Your sister is rubbing off on you,” Declan groaned. "Run off."

Taggie left snickering. 

Declan tried to focus back on his work, but couldn’t. Maybe Taggie was right. Was he expecting too much of you? He wasn’t exactly known for his observation skills when the subject wasn’t an official or celebrity he wanted to tear apart. He didn’t want a whole fuss of a party anyway and now he was letting you bend over backwards to make it happen. He sighed, running a hand down his face. It was too late, of course. Declan knew if he said anything, you would assume you’d done something wrong. 

Your current situation did little to help. Having spent the last two hours haggling over second-hand decorations, you still didn’t have enough for both the entry hall and the dining room, not to mention other areas of the house. Plus, you’d need to repaint most of the wooden tree decorations, patch up the banners, and glue the ceramic snowman back together. The rest was a haphazard collection of string lights, ornaments, and brass angels you bartered for a steal. For you, it was enough. But for the O’Hara’s? For Declan? 

It was hard not to feel cast into a shadow when his ex was who she was. 

“Why couldn’t Maud be a minimalist?” You groaned. Maybe the girls could help you dig up some more decor from storage. Surely they had a snow or two tucked away somewhere. 

Stars… 

Now that gave you an idea. 

-

12 hours. That’s all the time you had left to prep the best Christmas party Declan’s family could have.

No pressure, right?

With the decorations set- you nearly broke your neck putting them up- now all you needed to do was make enough food for all the people you invited. Taggie had offered to help, but you insisted she spend Christmas Eve about town with her siblings. Of course, this left you standing in front of a dozen empty pans and no idea how to fill them. 

“How does she do this?” You muttered to yourself, looking over the recipe for the thousandth time. Mince pies, cranberry tarts, figgy pudding… it all could have been delivered, but making it yourself was cheaper. You knew money was tight, not that Declan would ever admit it. So it would be the best- and most affordable- Christmas party. 

Declan walked into the kitchen just as you were putting the first round of mini pies in the oven. 

“Maud called,” he sighed. He smoothed his wild curls only for them to pop out again. “She can’t make it.”

You almost dropped the pudding. “What?” 

“She can’t come home for Christmas.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but you heard it all the same. “Apparently there’s a big party with lots of directors who might cast her, so she’s staying in London.”

“Oh.” You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face fall. It was silly, really, to be upset. But you hadn’t realized how much you wanted to impress her until now. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Declan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know how much work you’ve put into all this.”

Secretly, a small part of him was relieved, though it was a shame the kids wouldn’t see their mother on Christmas. 

Your back stiffened against his chest. 

“This is all the more reason to have this magnificent party,” you said, shrugging him away so you could get back to work. “It’ll be good for Patrick and the girls.”

Declan stood to the side, watching fierce determination overtake your features. 

He exhaled, surrendering. “Alright, love.”

-

The kitchen smelled like smoke and blackened fruit. Coughing, you pulled the tray of unsalvageable tarts from the oven and set them aside. You’d been so busy finishing up the decorations that you’d forgotten about them entirely. You opened the window despite the chill to let out some of the black clouds and godawful odor. 

Just half an hour before guests would start arriving and you’d just ruined half of the desserts. Pouring yourself a glass of whatever was closest, you just hoped they’d be content with free liquor after dinner. Maybe they’d get too drunk to care. 

“Are you setting fire to the entire neighborhood, because if so, at least spare my dogs.” A familiar snark sounded from behind you.

“Rupert? What are you doing here this early?” You gasped, wiping your hands on your apron. “Declan hasn’t had enough whiskey to tolerate you yet.”

“Then you should have invited more people,” he teased. Rupert entered the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “Why don’t you have Taggie help you? She’s perfect at this.” The admiration in his voice was hard to miss, but you ignored it.

“Because she deserves to spend Christmas with her family, not stuck in here with me.”

He raised a finger to point out you counted as family, but you interrupted. 

“And what do you mean, invite more people?” You put your hands on your hips. “I invited half of the Cotswolds.” 

Rupert winced. “Yes, well, that explains this then.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A stack of filthy, water-stained envelopes. “I didn’t find them til this morning. Postman must have dropped them in the garden when he got chased off by the dogs.” He handed the ruined invitations over. 

You stared at them, a lump forming in your throat.

“You mean… no one is coming?”

“I’m afraid not, darling.” He plucked a not-charred tart from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “But isn’t this better. A more intimate gathering with your mustachioed man?”

You shook your head, running your hand through your hair, breathing starting to pick up.

“Maud is staying in London,” you blurted. “So the family is without their mother for Christmas and I thought I could-”

“Replace her by throwing some ridiculous party?” He chuckled. His face fell, however, when he saw your lip quiver. “Darling, you know no one expects you to be Maud, don’t you?”

You looked away. 

“Nobody wants that.” He stepped forward. “Y/N, I’m sure they don’t. I’m a little relieved she’s not here, to be honest. She was always a bit much.” 

Shaking fingers struggled to untie your apron. You tossed it aside. 

“I have to go.” You hurried for the door, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. 

“Y/N-” He started. 

The door slammed shut behind you. 

Rupert watched you go, sighed, and stole another tart. 

-

As the O’Haras piled into the main hall, Caitlin pinched Taggie’s arm, spotting the Minister of Sport coming out of the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she whispered excitedly, earning a stern glance from their father. 

Taggie gulped. “Neither did I.”

Both watched their father put on a tight smile and approach the other man. 

“Rupert.”

“Declan.” Rupert’s smile was genuine, if not a bit arrogant. “I’m afraid I’ve been the bearer of bad news to your lovely Y/N,” he said. “All her invitations were lost to my flower bushes, left undelivered.”

“So there’s no one coming?” Patrick frowned. He’d hoped to meet some of his father’s good-looking TV hostess coworkers. 

“First mummy, now the whole town. Whatever will we do?” Caitlin said, eying Taggie and scooching her forward. When that didn’t work, she poked her brother. “Patrick scared them off with his terrible poetry.”

Patrick rustled her hair, making her squeak in protest. 

Declan ignored them. He ran a hand down his face and looked around at all you’d set up. You hadn’t even gotten to turn the lights on. 

“She seemed rather upset,” Rupert said, noticing Declan’s concern. “Ran off into the night. Very dramatic.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should go find her, hm?” He gave him a knowing look. 

Declan’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t about the party. Not really. He just wished he’d realized it sooner. And before Rupert Campell-Black.

Starting for the door, he stopped, grabbing Rupert’s arm. 

“Don’t-” He narrowed his eyes, “-touch anything.”

He hurried off.

Rupert turned to the remaining O’Haras. 

“So,” he clapped his hands together. “Who knows where Declan keeps his best scotch?” 

-

He found you sitting on a snowy stump at the edge of the property. Declan watched the deep, shimmering green fabric of your dress sparkle in the moonlight, shifting as you lifted the bottle to your lips. You didn’t seem to see him approaching, eyes trained at the stars. 

“You look-” He sat beside you and kissed your cheek, “beautiful.”

“I don’t feel beautiful,” you muttered, taking another swig. The wine stained your lips a reddish purple but you didn’t care. Nobody would see it anyway. “I failed, Declan.”

“You didn’t fail.”

You scoffed. “The dessert is burnt, the decorations are literally hanging by a thread, and- oh yeah- none of it matters because no one is coming.” You raised your arm for another drink, but Declan grabbed the bottle, bringing it to his lips instead. 

Despite your efforts, your lip trembled. 

“I just wanted your family to have the perfect Christmas,” you said. 

“Is that what you think I care about?” He asked. “The extravagant party? The guests lined up down the pather?” Declan took your hands in his, trying to warm them from the chill. “Y/N, you’ve gotten me to look forward to a holiday for the first time in ages.” He brought your hands up for a lingering kiss. “Just by being you.” 

Your shaking stopped, tears chased away by his soft smile. You snatched the bottle back.

“Flattering will hardly make me feel better, Mr. O’Hara,” you teased. 

He raised a brown and leaned forward. 

“Does this?” He kissed your lips. “Or this?” Your jaw. “Or maybe…” The spot behind your ear. 

“Declan,” you breathed. 

He kept his lips by your ear, whispering. “You don’t have to be any more than you are, to be enough for me.”

Now, your tears returned for a different reason. Throwing your arms around him, you crashed your lips into his, forgetting what you’d been so upset about. Your hands found his hair, tangling those perfect black curls around your fingers. He reached one hand around you to hold you closer while the other rested on your thigh, creeping ever upwards. 

“If nobody is coming, can we start to eat?” Patrick called out over the lawn, making you jolt apart. 

You bit back a laugh, Declan’s face turning pink. “Go ahead!”

“Little bastard couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Your frustrated boyfriend whined. 

“Ten minutes?” You stood, holding out your hand to help him. 

Declan pinched your upper thigh and scooped you up, both actions eliciting a squeal from your lips as he carried you back. 

-

“Ready?”

“Yes!” They all cheered, impatient.

You giggled, holding the switch captive in your hand. “You don’t look ready.”

“Get on with it, Y/N,” Caitlin whined, “turn them on!”

A chorus of pleas joined her. Declan just laughed, giving you a wide grin.

“You heard them,” he said.

“Alright, alright.”

You flipped the switch. All at once, the main hall lit up, and not just around the tree. Lights strung up above their heads created a canopy of color. Rupert turned on the speakers, filling the space with music. Exclamations of awe and excitement sounded all around you.

“Come on,” Caitlin said, dragging her siblings out to dance with her. Taggie glanced at Rupert, blush flooding her cheeks. He simply motioned for her to go on and dance.

Declan grabbed your hand.

“It’s perfect.” He kissed you deeply, making your knees weak as though he held you up in his embrace.

Caitlin made a teasing sound of disgust, but Taggie couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so happy.

Rupert leaned over to you as he strutted to join the others. 

“Told you so,” he whispered. You reached to smack him, but he shimmied out of the way.

“Told you what?” Declan asked. 

You curled a black strand around your finger. 

“That I didn’t have to prove something to be loved by you.”

He pressed a kiss to your palm.

“For once, Rupert and I agree.” He lead you out to dance, swaying slowly despite the cheesy song. 

“Merry Christmas, Declan.” You kissed him again, nuzzling closer. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

And so you all spent Christmas dancing to overplayed tunes under flashy, colorful lights. 

And it was perfect.

[numberonetacostan]

it’d be so fun if hotel oj had a holiday party like every year and taco had no idea until she steps into the lobby and there’s decorations everywhere

people keep trying to involve her in little traditions and she’s so lost bc she spent so much time in the forest

Hello there!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!!!! :]

YES! Taco is clueless about holidays. She may have some built-in knowledge from the MeLife Neural Network, but like. Guys. Do you think Steve Cobs was making sure Mephone had nice happy holidays? Yeah that's what I thought. So she doesn't know much of anything!!!! She was with everyone for the Christmas and Halloween episodes, but those were more challenges than actual celebrations, yeah? The season changing for her just meant colder weather, less food, and more time spent alone.

So!!! Yeah, she'd step out of her room one day to see a hallway full of decorations!!! And... probably step right back into her room and shut the door. She doesn't know what shenanigans are going on, but she doesn't have the energy to get involved at whatever time in the morning she'd be awake.

People trying to involve her and teach her how to celebrate holidays is so cute!!! There's so many adorable ideas for that. Taco being informed that you usually get your friends presents during the winter holidays and freaking out because she didn't know about that she needs to get presents super fast!!! Taco and Mic/Mepad/whoever standing under mistletoe and getting "oooooh you know what that meaaaans"'d but. Taco literally does not know what it means. Taco reading Cabby's files on holidays to help her out!! And I like to hc TK celebrating Hanukkah!!! And being the motherly type she is, I can see her happy to share her traditions with the other contestants, yeah? Cheesy spiking some eggnog and a ton of the contestants getting unintentionally wasted. These are getting less related to Taco but again holidays in hotel OJ with the full cast would be so interesting and fun!!!!! X]

[be-an-echo]

under the mistletoe

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Magneto would love lumpia meanwhile Charles would have his Bibingka and Puto Bungbong hehe

Happy Holidays!

asks that remind me my bitchass friend kayla promised to make me *puto two years ago and she still hasnt

*puto is a filipino rice cake i do know it also means 'bitch' in spanish we do not have to address that thank you

[joaniscruzing]

reuniting with jinx <3

everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...

obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??

summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.

warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED

you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.

"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."

vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.

"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."

you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.

after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.

you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.

the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.

"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.

"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.

"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."

shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.

"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.

"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.

"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."

"and how did you get back to zaun?"

"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."

you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.

"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"

"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.

"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.

her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.

"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.

"i love you too."

[whorekneecentral]

Sticky Fingers

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad!seb, seb referring to himself as daddy, cheesy flirting, oral (m!receiving), the use of daddy in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding kink, hint to pregnancy kink if you squint, creampie, a touch of cum play, finger sucking, mommy kink but in a joking way.

Word Count: 2,112

Author's Note: would it really be me if I didn't start it off with my favourite dilf on the planet?? happy holidays to everyone who celebrates in whatever way you do and to those of you who don't, I hope you have a wonderful winter season!!

merry smutmas series

--

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board. 

It had been a long year; Sebastian had been driving you mad as much as it was nice to have him home. A full year of retirement and Seb was making sure this holiday season was the best one yet.

Last year, after he retired, you had practically already gotten everything together for the holidays. Sebastian helped decorate and do activities with your daughter but this year, he was hands on from day one. He insisted you guys get a real tree as well as decorate the whole house from top to bottom. You couldn't count how many times he had you running to the store to pick up something for him and his newest holiday project.

Your daughter was upstairs in her bed, fast asleep with her messy blonde curls all scattered over the pillow when you checked on her. Sebastian had put her to bed while you had gone to take a shower.

Usually, you'd find him in bed by now or in the living room, finally working on the insanely long list of tv shows Charles had recommended to him over the years.

Tonight was different, the house was quiet and you couldn't seem to spot your husband anywhere as you made your way through the house.

A light peeked out from around the corner, the door to the basement slightly ajar and you pulled it open, slowly making your way downstairs.

You can see Sebastian from behind, the man freezes when he hears the creaking of the stairs. "It's just me," you announced, the man visibly relaxed, turning to smile at you.

"What are you doing down here?" You asked, finally making it down the stairs. "So secretive, are you jerking off?" You jokingly asked, Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Don't need to do that when I have you," he raises his eyebrows and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Whatever Seb," you laughed, "seriously, what are you doing down here?"

"Trying to wrap this," Sebastian steps to the side, revealing the massive box that was behind him. On the front was a photo of the doll house your daughter wanted.. the ridiculously expensive dollhouse that is. It's not that you two didn't get your daughter what she wanted but she had to earn it. Just because her father is who he is and the fact that he has money, doesn't mean she should get whatever she wants.

You raise her as a normal kid, not some spoiled brat who gets whatever they want.

You huffed, arms folded over your chest as you looked at your husband. "Sebastian, you didn't."

He glances between you and the dollhouse. "What?"

"Do you know how expensive that is?"

"Yeah duh, I bought it babe." He says as if he was stating the obvious, which he was.

He takes a step towards you, grabbing your arms to unfold them, "listen, I know you don't want me to just buy her whatever she wants but it's Christmas and she did really well on her first term report card, remember ?" Sebastian smiles at you, trying to justify his purchase.

You sigh, nodding. You always gave in, both he and his daughter knew as much.

You reach up, holding his face. "You're the best daddy a girl could ask for."

From the moment the words left your mouth, you could see the gears turning in his head. Sebastian's hands grab your ass, squeezing it when he leans in to give you a kiss. "I know I am," he whispers against your lips and you know he did not mean it in the same way you had said it.

Laughing, you lean back in your husband's arms. "Only you can make that dirty."

The man swings you in the direction of your couch, dropping you down on it before getting on top of you. "I'll show you dirty," he says, kissing you once again.

Your legs wrapped around your husband, holding him against you. Seb's lips are all over you, hands slipping between the two of you, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt until he stops to take it off.

"Don't look at me like that," he teases, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your stomach. "Like what?" You breathe, head tipped back into the cushions.

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I'd give you another baby right now, Sebastian."

The man freezes, looking up at you. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. Sebastian moves to between your legs, settling there for a minute as he presses kisses along your bare skin, following the trail from your hip, down your thighs to between them.

Your hand tangles in his blonde curls, giving it a tug and pulling him off of you before he can get to what he really wants. The man's brows furrow, looking at you. "Sweetheart," he huffs, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thighs.

You give him a shove back with your foot, sitting up. Sebastian watches as you move him to sit and you move from the couch to the floor. Seb reaches for the pillow, dropping in front of you so you'd have some sort of cushioning; he knows even though this was your idea, you'd blame him for sore knees tomorrow.

"You're sure?" He asks, watching as your manicured nails tugs on the strings on his sweats. "Absolutely," you say, your eyes fixed on him as your hands rub up his thighs.

Seb watches as you lick your hand, his head tips back and a soft moan slips out when you wrap your hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

His eyes don't move from you, watching your every move. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something but he can't bring himself to. You lean forward, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh. Sebastian groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you wrap your lips around him.

"God-" he breathed, his arm hung over the armrest and his head tipped back into the couch.

His eyes flutter shut when you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down. You glance up at your husband; eyes shut, his hand reaching down to tangle in your hair - pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

You move yourself up a bit, lips still around the tip and your hand quickly replaces where your mouth was. Sebastian finally opens his eyes, looking down at you again just as your tongue swirls around the tip.

His hips involuntarily buck upwards, forcing you down on him a little bit more. "Oh fuc- baby, do that- yeah." He's out of breath when he whispers the words.

That was a reaction only you could get out of him.

It was killing him but he forces himself to pull you up off of him, your hand wraps around his cock, moving it slowly. "What?" You asked, your tongue running across your bottom lip - the sight alone makes his cock twitch in your hand; you smile at the reaction.

"I was gonna cum."

"So? I'm not complaining." You tell him, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his thigh. Sebastian reaches down, his knuckles brushing over your cheek - red and flushed.

You looked so beautiful like this.

Sebastian smiles, "I know but.. what if I wanted to try for one more?"

"One more?" You asked, brows furrowed as you looked up at the man. It takes you a moment, your husband's glance was suggestive, as if you were meant to remember something - "Oh!" You giggled, sitting up straight now. "I mean.. yeah."

"So.." he grabs your arm, carefully pulling you up. "C'mere."

Climbing onto your husband's lap, you straddle him and your hand rests on his shoulder to balance yourself. Seb reaches between the two of you, his wrist brushing against your bare cunt when he goes to line himself up with you.

The slightest touch causes you to lean into him; watching him react to you sucking him off was enough to get you worked up.

"All for me?" He looks at you, kissing along your throat.

You hum, teasing him. "Not like I can say it's for your teammate anymore."

Sebastian smiles, his free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him. Your lips parted, his name slipped from between them. As much as he loved to hear you, he didn't want to wake up the sleeping child upstairs - he kissed you, muffling the sweet sounds coming from you.

You liked to be in control up to a certain point, Seb's hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his lap, setting the pace.

After a moment, Seb's hands begin to wander; this man could never settle, not even during sex. His hands move from your hips to the curve of your spine to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip there. You couldn't exactly move, not that you wanted too, but Sebastian forces you down, gently as always, to kiss you. You bite his bottom lip, giving it a gentle pull when he feels you clench around his cock.

"You're - fuck." he moans, making you giggle.

Your hand rests on his jaw, fingers tapping his stubble covered cheek. "I'm what, daddy?"

"You're evil," he mumbles, his hand on your lower back before he flips the two of you. You end up under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

A hand moves to behind his shoulder, your perfectly red nails dig into his pale skin, the marks you left matched the colour of your nails; very festive, you thought to yourself.

Seb's face is buried into the crook of your neck, kissing down to that one spot he knows drives you crazy. "Seb-" you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel his fingers on your clit.

"What was that?" He taunts, watching as your eyes close, back arched, his chest pressed to yours. His lips travel down to your chest, kissing over your tits and as far as he could go. Your nails dig into him once more, Seb feels you clench around him.

"Seb- I'm gonna, fuck-" you mumble and he hums in response, kissing along your jaw.

"Go on, I'm right here baby. C'mon, be good for me." He whispers, he grabs your hand, pulling it to rest on your lower stomach. "Can you feel that, hm? You'd look so pretty with a baby in you - fuck, drove me crazy last time."

You mumble something he doesn't quite catch but from the look on your face, you were going along with everything.

"Please Seb," your lips are on his, begging him for any and everything."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His eyes find yours, "what do you want? You want me to cum in you?"

"Let me make you a daddy again, Seb."

The man groans, your legs tightening around him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes, cheat heaving when you clench around him once more, the tighten knot in your lower stomach comes undone. You find yourself calling his name; the sound and sight of you was something Sebastian never wanted to forget. He finds himself following shortly after you, dropping down on top of you.

Seb moves off of you, pulling out in the process. A soft whimper slipping past your lips at the loss of fullness. He tsks, smiling to himself. His finger drags along your pussy, he watches how you react to his touch, pushing his finger into you to fuck what's slipping back into you.

Before you realize, his hands moved from between your legs to your lips. "Open," he tells you and you do, the man putting his finger between your lips, letting you suck it clean.

He smiles, watching in approval before you let his finger go with a pop. "Good girl," he whispers, holding your jaw when he kisses you.

Seb shifts the two of you, letting you cuddle into his side. His hand rubs along your side, your leg stretched out over his lap.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," you smile, your hand on his chest.

"Well, when we do get up-" he starts but you cut him off, already knowing where he's going. "I'll help you wrap it." You tell him, making him laugh.

"You're the best mommy a girl could ask for," he says and you make a face, laughing. "Doesn't work that way babe."

"Ew, no - I didn't mean like that, you freak."

"Oh shut up," you shook your head, reaching up to kiss your husband.

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls@wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[internetprincess420]

what the gom+kagami like to do with you in their free time

cw:boobs mention (aomine), gn!reader, not proofread

tetsuya kuroko

- you guys take #2 to the dog park and get food to eat on the park bench

- during the holidays, you and tetsuya will volunteer at animal shelters and elderly homes

- you bring #2 to the elderly homes to let the seniors play with him

- you also bring snacks and cards for them

- tetsuya is someone i see as very nurturing and giving and i think he’s the type of person to want to give to others in his free time

- he LOVES going to cat cafes

- however, he also sees your time alone as important too

- you guys will have all day movie marathons at home

- you and tetsuya like to go to the library together and help tutor the young kids

ryota kise

- i think ryotas favorite thing to do in his off time is to go to the arcade with you

- it’s canon that he uses his perfect copy in games like ddr, so i think he likes to challenge you in ddr battles and karaoke sing-offs

- he also loves the arcades that serve food and will always order fried pickles or cheese fries with something ridiculous to drink like a seasonal mountain dew or root beer (root beer hater for LIFE)

- his default karaoke song is definitely it’s a wrap by mariah carey

- i like the think he frequents the arcade so much that the employees know him by name

- i also think he likes to take you to the mall and just walk around

- he also LOVES to gossip when you guys are walking around and see people from school

- “y/n you won’t believe what i heard about that guy..”

- and he definitely says it way too loud too

daiki aomine

- the way to his heart is through his stomach (and your chest)

- i fully believe and support the theory that his perfect day off is going to eat some junk and having his head in between your breasts

- daiki is quite chill and easy going, so i think he prefers to spend his off time at home on the couch rather than doing anything that requires any thinking on his part

- if you order some burgers and put on a cheesy anime he will probably never want to leave

- however, if you want to go out and do something he is more than willing to go to make you happy

- i don’t think he’d protest, but i do think he’d say something like “are you sure you want to go out? the couch is so comfy and we can cuddle~~~~”

- if he does have to go out, he likes to go to the movie theatre with you

- tries to squeeze your tits in the dark cinema 😭

- i believe daiki hates spending money but loves to spend money if it’s on you

seijuro akashi

- it’s canon that seijuro does horse riding and likes to do it on his days off so i think that he would love to teach you to ride horses and ride together

- we all know seijuro is extra af so i also think he’d get you the best riding gear and equipment, as well as the best lessons money can buy

- once you finally know how to properly ride horses, he would love to just ride out in the country together

- he loves a good opportunity to spend quality time with you and talk to you at the same time

- he would bring food for a picnic out in the country side

- he loves to hear you talk, so tell him about anything and everything and he will be entertained

- seijuro also loves to go on light walks/jogs with you

- i genuinely think his love language is quality time don’t ask me why it just is

shintaro midorima

- shintaros favorite thing to do with you is to go to the shops and browse

- this might also be a stretch, but i think shintaro likes to travel with you

- like not far but just small day trips that are a couple of hours away

- he loves to go to the spas and sit in saunas with you

- shintaro is a guy that puts self care first for both of you

- after the spa day, you guys go to whatever little local gift shops you can find and just look around all day

- i also think shintaro likes you buy you things, but more specifically he likes to buy you something special from every place you’ve been together

- when you guys get home he’s a straight to bed and cuddle kind of guy

atsushi murasakibara

- he prefers to be in the comfort of his or your home on his days off

- i think that because he’s so big and his body uses so much energy all the time he would want to do something where he can rest his body

- thus his favorite thing to do with you in his off time is sleep

- that’s it

- just sleep

- i think he prefers to go to your house and sleep only because his family is so big

- and he likes the way your sheets smell

- i think if you know he’s going to come over then you go the extra mile

- i’m talking matching pjs, lavender scented everything, sleep masks, candles, etc

- and ofc his favorite snacks

- if he HAS to do something, he will bake or cook with you

taiga kagami

- his favorite activity to do with you in his free time is to go to whatever beach is near and have a beach day

- first he likes to see you in a bikini (or whatever you prefer to wear)

- (yes i canon taiga as a secret horndog what about it..)

- he also wants to get burgers after

- he loves to build sand castles with you but he always messes them up on accident

- don’t talk for him for at least 10 minutes after he destroys it. he’s so sad.

- he makes you take pics of him surfing to post

- “no please y/n it’s gonna look so cool please”

- taiga is one of those people that intentionally scares kids at the beach by like randomly chasing them and barking

[ghostgirl-22]

Somehow the conversation coming up that art doesnt know what he likes or knowing his own body because he always did what he was supposed to and no girl has felt the need or want to touch him because "hes the man and shouldnt need all that" "guys take care of the girl not the other way around" iykwim so patrick decides to help him figure it all out

How much pressure he likes, how wet he likes it, if he like gentle or nipping, gripping or biting.. where his erogenous zones are... kissing the sensitive parts of his inner thighs, what roles he likes to take, how he likes to be spoken to...?

U can ignore this part but Maybe pat asks "You never even tried doing it yourself? Like taken your time and see where your hands go?"

art says how would i be able to figure it out when i dont know where to start or what to do. Pat understands there probably a repression aspect to it aswell aand so they discover art together with pat guiding him through this new world/exploration

Omg! Your ask is literally ten times better than what I wrote but I love you for letting me try it dear nonnie <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Basically this is just yearning and longing and porn with the thinnest of plots. So Artrick core.

——

It all comes out over holiday break. Art is staying with Patrick, it’s a few days after Christmas and Art’s parents are already busy with fundraisers and meetings. To them it doesn’t matter how Art gets back to Stanford, as long as he gets back so they could care less that Patrick keeps him for a few days.

They’re up too late. Patrick is lying on the floor with his laptop, looking up the scheduled matches for this season and who he’ll likely be playing. Art has taken over his bed, flipping channels on the television, going back and forth between American Pie on TBS and ESPN. Patrick is certain the sex conversation starts because they’re watching American Pie but what starts out as Art trying to get more information about Patrick’s sex life with Tashi leads to Art admitting he’s never really explored what he likes in bed.

“What do you even mean, explore?” Art asks, suddenly self conscious. He’s such a little perfectionist, checked off all the boxes, straight As, Ivy League college, division one tennis player, first girlfriend at the “right” age, lost it (many times) before high school finished. Patrick can tell it’s frustrating him to feel like he missed something. “Do you mean… touching myself?”

That’s really all it takes to divert Patrick’s attention. He shuts his laptop and sits up, gazing at Art. “Yeah jerking off is one part,” Patrick says, “But I meant what do you like?”

“I like having sex,” Art shrugs, “it’s simple. What else is there to explore?”

“Oh come on,” Patrick smirks. “It’s anything but simple. Do you even know your favorite position?”

Art rubs his arm, its so obvious he’s never even thought about it. “I don’t really… I mean um… I like… you know… the usual way.”

“Yeah that checks out,” Patrick says teasingly and Art’s gaze darkens.

”Why? How do you fuck Tashi?”

Patrick grins because he knew it was coming. “Nice try.”

Art huffs an irritated sigh. “Whatever man. Just because I’m not trying every position or whatever. I mean what difference does it make? She still…everybody still leaves happy.” Art picks up the remote and switches channels again like he’s done with the conversation but his skin is starting to flush.

He’s so easy. Patrick decides to push a little more. He shoves Art’s legs over and settles next to him on the full sized bed. Art just sits up, crossing his legs, he rests back on his palms.

Maybe it’s because Patrick helped him with his first sexual experience or maybe it’s because he has some kind of corruption kink but he loves whenever their relationship shifts back around to this show-me-how dynamic.

Art is so good at walking this line of self delusion that he’s this perfectly good straight boy… but when he needs something from Patrick. Usually experience. That’s when the lines start to blur. It’s a fucking mess but that’s exactly where Patrick lives.

“Look dude it’s not even about that.” Patrick continues. “It’s about… you remember when we were kids. You were so scared you’d suck at kissing so I—”

“Yeah I was a dumb kid,” Art interrupts quickly.

“Sure but you practiced…” Patrick points out. “And you’re a really good kisser now,” he says, smirking. Art looks away.

Patrick sighs. “I’m just saying if you play around… and learn what you really like. Sex can be really, really fucking good. Besides that’s half the fun of it anyway, right?”

Art chews his bottom lip and then he sighs. “It’s just… I mean I’m a guy… I thought I was supposed to look things up. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“What did you look up?”

“I don’t know, how to put on a condom? Only the first time. And like there was this article about unhooking different types of bra straps. Shut up,” he adds, shoving Patrick gently because he can’t help laughing at that.

“Okay how about this?” Patrick says, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. He leans back against the headboard, “Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer going fast?”

”Both,” Art says. “I like whatever she likes to do.”

“You don’t have a preference? What about when you’re touching yourself?”

Art plays with his tongue, rolls it back and forth in his mouth as he’s thinking. “Slower.” He says after a while. “Like… when I get the chance I like it…” He glances at Patrick and then looks determinedly back at the tv. “Slower.”

Patrick takes a breath and tries to slow himself down too but he can already feel his cock starting to fill up. “Okay what about touch? What makes you feel good? What gets you up?”

Art frowns. “I um… I don’t—- what about you? Where do you—” he sighs and then shakes his head. “Patrick, this is ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t, what’s ridiculous is you really don’t know what you like.”

Art is gripping the remote too tightly. “I know what I like,” he says.

“What?” Patrick gazes at him.

“Lots of stuff,” Art says.

“Like?”

Art rubs his thighs, Patrick looks down, following the anxious movement.

“I know something you like,” Patrick says after Art doesn’t say anything for a minute. “You want me to show you?”

Art starts playing with his tongue again, he takes a deep breath and nods and Patrick sits up so he’s close.

“You like it when someone kisses you here,” he brushes his knuckles along the junction between Art’s neck and collar bone and he shivers, pulling his shoulder up towards his ear. Patrick considers going in for the kiss but getting Art in a headspace is a delicate thing. It can lead everywhere and nowhere depending on how Patrick handles him.

And he knows Art… fuck… apparently he knows things about Art’s body that he’s not even aware of. This messy little “friendship” is gonna drive him crazy.

“Can I—“ Patrick lets his fingertips settle along the nape of Art’s neck where his curly hair is fine and baby soft. Art closes his eyes momentarily and takes a little breath.

”You like that too,” Patrick says.

“Yeah,” Art says softly.

Patrick licks his bottom lip to keep himself from licking at the flush on Art’s throat. “Do you like being on top? Or on the bottom?” Patrick asks, carefully.

Art opens his eyes and bites his lip again before taking a deep breath. “I think I prefer it when she… when she’s on top.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know… it’s hot. I mean…” he looks at Patrick. “I like looking at her tits when she….” He looks down shyly. Such a stupidly, pretty boy.

Patrick smirks. “So you're a boob guy.”

“So are you,” Art says, like he’s been caught doing something bad and doesn’t want to be the only one to get in trouble.

Patrick shrugs. “I love everything. I’m more of an ass man. But if you want to kill me show me a great pair of legs… I mean… fuck.”

Art rubs his thighs again. “I really like Tashi’s legs.”

“I bet you do,” Patrick smirks, leaning in. “What about you? You ever let her touch your chest?” He teases his fingers over Art’s t-shirt where his pecs are. Art gasps lightly as Patrick pinches just the right spot and the nipple starts to harden immediately. Patrick circles it lightly and Art shifts on the bed, pressing one hand into his lap and pushing Patrick away with the other. “Fuck no. That’s weird right?” Art asks, his voice a little pitchy.

God he fucking loves it. Patrick wants to push him down on the bed. But he sits on his hands to make himself behave. “What’s weird about it?” Patrick asks.

“I mean… I’m a guy. Why would she want to touch my… my nipples.” Art huffs a nervous little laugh.

“To make you feel good,” Patrick says softly.

Art licks his lips idly and lets out another breath.

“What about grip… do you like it soft?” Patrick asks.

Art nods. “Yeah.”

“This?” Patrick grips his wrist gently. “Or this?” He asks gripping a little tighter. “Or?” He grips tighter still, until Art squeezes his eyes shut.

“The… the middle… the second one.”

“Just right,” Patrick lets up on his grip. “What about here?” Patrick trails his fingertips…slowly… down Arts tummy.

“Stop,” Art breathes as Patrick’s fingers reach the elastic of his boxers.

Patrick shrugs, letting go of the elastic and smirking. He could do this all night. Touch and poke and prod and feel. He knows it’s turning Art on. He’s flushed so fucking beautifully, worrying his lips all red, squirming on the mattress.

“What about…” Patrick sits up on his knees and plays his fingers into Art's hair. Art looks up at him eagerly. Eyes fully dilated, lips parted, breathing shallow.

God.

Such a fucking pretty, pretty boy.

All Patrick wants now is whatever the fuck he can get away with. “Can I kiss you soft?” He asks as he presses his lips to Art’s mouth. Art nods and opens up, sliding his tongue into Patrick’s mouth right away, wanting it. Even though they’d only ever kissed a handful of times, ever since the first time their lips touched Patrick could tell that for Art kissing would be a Thing with a capital T. Patrick caresses the side of Art’s throat and feels it as he shivers. He listens to the way Art’s breathing. So aware of how Art’s body is moving. He’s opening up, he’s uncrossed his legs, knees pulled up, he’s grabbing at Patrick’s t-shirt trying to pull him closer as Patrick starts to deepen the kiss. Pressing his tongue more firmly into Art’s mouth. Art really likes that. He starts gasping, nibbling on Patrick’s lip before pushing his own tongue back in. When he starts moaning Patrick pulls back. His heart is railing against his ribcage and he’s losing himself. His hips are pressed in between Art’s legs feeling everything. Certain Art is feeling everything.

”Fuuckk,” Patrick breathes. He flops onto the bed resting his head on his pillow. If he were with Tashi right now he’d probably be halfway inside her already. Everything with her is impatient, horny and desperate. Everything with Art is pleading, anxious and pretending he doesn’t want it as badly as he fucking does.

Art is breathless, lips kiss swollen, he scoots back to get distance. “This is… so…”

“You like dirty talk?” Patrick interrupts.

Art smiles a bit and shrugs. “Kinda.”

“What’s kinda?” Patrick asks.

Art kicks his legs, lightly. “I like… I like when she tells me how she can’t wait for me to fuck her…”

Patrick sits up on his elbows. “Like I’m so wet for you baby, can’t wait to feel that big dick inside me?” Patrick says softly.

”Jesus Patrick,” Art says, covering his face.

“What?” Patrick says, smiling slightly at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're wet,” Art whispers.

“So what do you want me to say?” Patrick says, he gets up again, abruptly crawling back into Art’s personal space. Art reacts at the sudden movement by opening his mouth… Patrick can see his little pink tongue, desperate for another kiss.

Art is gazing at him, pupils so large the rings of blue are barely visible. They’re so close, their lips are almost touching when Art licks his mouth. A horny little mess, if Patrick tried it now he thinks Art might let him fuck.

Patrick smiles and then leans against Art’s ear. “Can’t wait till you fill me up and fuck me good baby…” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. “I can fuck you good.”

Patrick thinks he’s gonna go insane.

Art’s breathing starts to pick up again.

“Can you fill me up and stretch me… fuck me so hard I can feel you for days…” Patrick whispers.

“Mmhm,” Art hums eagerly, he starts lapping and sucking along Patrick’s throat, it’s so fucking yummy.

Patrick rubs his hand lightly along the inside of Arts thigh, trying to graze his knuckles along Arts cock. Art hitches another breath.

“That feel good?” Patrick asks gently.

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly.

“You like it when she goes down on you before you fuck her?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, mm, yes,” Art says eagerly, shifting on the bed so Patrick can get between his legs. It’s so slutty the way he opens up so quickly, knowing what Patrick wants to do. Patrick presses a kiss along the inside of his upper thigh.

“Mm,” Art whines, and Patrick’s sure he’s just found another sensitive spot. He kisses it again, this time sucking at the skin there and Art moans properly. Patrick grins and starts palming him through his shorts. His own cock feels so fucking heavy. He’s thought about fucking Art since the first time he watched him nut all over himself but right now he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get this.

“You gotta tell me how you want it to feel,” Patrick says looking up at him. “Can you talk me through it?”

“What if your… what if we get caught?” Art whispers.

“Everyone is asleep by now I promise,” Patrick says.

”Are you sure?”

“Fucking yes.” Patrick says impatiently, though if he’s honest he wouldn’t give a fuck at this point if they were all right outside his bedroom door. He can’t help himself, he tugs Art’s shorts down to see it.

He’s still barely got any hair there and he’s definitely still blonde everywhere. He’s so hard, his cock is so pretty and pink and full to the tip, pearls of cum dripping. Patrick laps it up and Art hisses.

“Talk to me,” Patrick whispers. “You like it wet?”

“Fuck,” Art breathes. “I mean yes. Yeah I want it wet. Oh god.”

Patrick fills his mouth.

“Oh— oh— fuck—-“ Art groans, he’s so loud. His hips stutter but Patrick holds him down, swirls his tongue around, doesn’t swallow anything, just drools all over it. Arts toeing the bed, trying to push up. “Mm fuck your tongue can you… can you do it faster…” Art moans. So Patrick moves his tongue faster.

He doesn’t ask, maybe because he’s too far gone but he teases his fingertips up along Art’s entrance and the sounds that Art makes in response, make Patrick shiver.

“Patrick,” Art gasps, his body is practically vibrating. Patrick presses his fingers in a little deeper and he moans like the boys do when Patrick’s on those websites in the middle of the night with the volume down low. But Art can’t be quiet… and Patrick doesn’t want him to stop.

“Patrick! Patrick I can’t—- I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum— holy shit—“ Art wasn’t even done saying Patrick’s name when Patrick’s mouth started filling up. And boy does it fucking fill up. Patrick’s swallowing, and swallowing and swallowing. He’s so greedy he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of it. Art is whining breathlessly when Patrick finally lets it drop from his mouth, still so shiny and red and wet, twitching helplessly. Patrick just stares at it, dizzy for a minute before he drops onto the bed next to Art and reaches between his legs and starts touching himself.

Art sighs and pulls his shorts up properly before rolling over. He puts his hand where Patrick’s is and starts helping. “What about you? Art asks softly. “What do you like?”

A/N: Sorry this took hundreds of years my love. I wanted to do better but unfortunately got lots to catch up on so it shall be good enough <3

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: T cw: abandoned pets tags: modern au, platonic stobin, first meeting, animal shelters, another universe another menial job, bad holiday innuendo, implied hook ups word count: 995 written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "mistletoe"

there's now a part two

One of the fun bits about running the social media for the animal shelter was naming the animals that came in. Crafting something just unhinged enough to be spread around which lured people in was Robin’s jam. Yeah, her creative skills could be better used but they weren’t going to waste. And this way cute animals got loving homes.

As fun as it was to name a litter of kittens things like “Left Sock” and “Stolen Pants”, Robin also had to play to the season. Though her and her supervisor went rounds about this. Robin didn’t want to entice parents to adopt a kitten for their kid only for them to get the thing back in four months. She didn’t make the big bucks though so she had to do what she was told.

When the large litter of kittens rescued from a cold and abandoned barn came in? Robin knew what she’d be forced to do. The props would be cute but the names would be lame and overused.

It wasn’t a shock to anyone that she dragged Steve into the process. He was her best friend, they applied for the job together and wanted matching schedules, but he also actually had Christmas cheer.

Best friend, decorations, and kittens all wrangled into the same space, they set to the difficult task of naming each of these adorable little furballs. There were eight of them and that number was the only thing stopping Robin from bringing home the whole litter.

Latkes, Kugel, Lump of Coal, Winter Solstice, Krampus, The Ghost of Christmas Past, Cheeses, Meeces, and Mistletoe were all photographed and the colors of their colors logged before Robin and Steve went to the office to edit pictures.

Steve had Latkes in the pocket of his hoodie, sleeping away in the comfort and warmth, and Mistletoe wandered from shoulder to shoulder. The rest were happy back in their homey pen, heating blanket and food freshly stocked. Robin wanted to be annoyed but Steve always had at least one animal in tow, he couldn’t help that they were drawn to him. Or that he couldn’t say no to them.

“We oughta take a picture of you like that, imagine the dates you could get asking people to meet you under this mistletoe,” Robin said, turning back to the screen.

“Wouldn’t that be better if she was the one in my pocket?” Steve asked.

“Oh my god, why would you say that?” Robing aggressively clicked the ancient mouse to try and make the computer load faster so she didn’t have to think any more about the implications of that.

“You set me up for it!” Steve said, that same indignation he always had that made Robin want to punch him.

“Whatever. Not even you could get a date with something like that.”

Robin didn’t turn around, she could feel Steve accepting the challenge she absolutely had not issued. No way he got it to work.

—

The day had been slow, boring but expected. Robin was the only one on duty right now. The two others went off to take their lunch knowing Robin was fine with Steve there. He’d come in to hang out, a pretty typical thing when they weren’t scheduled to both work.

Steve was sitting on the counter, Robin in the chair with her feet up and next to his leg. They were on their fourth Buzzfeed quiz when the door opened. Steve and Robin both had to fight glaring at whoever interrupted the scientific “what type of fruit are you” quest.

“Hey, do you guys still got Krampus?” the guy asked, skipping all greetings.

His lack of manners had Robin staying in her seat. She wasn’t going to overdo it if he couldn’t manage the bare minimum. Steve, however, was on his feet all Christmas cheer and eager to help. Robin knew what that meant.

Added confirmation came as Steve leaned over and whispered “I think he needs to take home Mistletoe.”

Sticking her finger toward her mouth, Robin gave a half-hearted gag. If anything, she was annoyed with how easily this all came to Steve. This guy was so his type there was no way he wasn’t going to try something and Robin supported that but did he have to be so good at it?

“We do,” Steve said. It shouldn’t have been a seductive statement and yet…

Of course, it worked. The guy was the first person Robin had ever seen do a spit take without having anything to drink.

After an awkward stare-down, Robin cleared her throat as the only professional for miles around, “Would you like to see him?”

“Yeah, yeah, man. I think I would,” the guy said.

Rolling her eyes, Robin lifted a foot to kick at Steve's hip. “Show him the cat, you idiot,” she groaned.

Since he was almost out of reach, the kick did nothing to Steve as he flashed that award-winning smile that drove everyone wild and he had the customer follow him.

Just once, Robin would love to channel whatever magnetism Steve had. There’d been so many girls that had come through the door, single girls who talked about their ex-girlfriends, and Robin couldn’t so much as give them her number. Steve was going to walk out of here with a wedding ring.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Steve and the guy walked back to Robin looking like they’d solved world hunger. Thankfully Steve was smart enough not to hook up with people at the shelter but Robin knew that look, both on the customer and Steve, a hook up would happen.

In case that wasn’t enough, the guy was carrying Mistletoe and not Krampus like he'd asked for.

Steve stood on the customer side of the counter and said “Hand me the adoption form, wouldya? We’ll get Eddie this adorable little friend and then I’m going to help him set his apartment up to be a cat dad.”

“You’re insufferable.”

[vintagetimetarot]

What blessings are coming into your life very soon? ♡︎🪽

Hello everyone! This reading is inspired by @sillyfoxlady . I’ve been looking for some good PAC topics that bring a positive energy, and this is pretty open ended so I decided to do it. Pick a vintage illustration below for your reading. And when I say very soon, these are blessings coming into your life by your definition of very soon. Whether it means days, weeks, months, whatever. Have fun, and this is a general reading. Please like and rb (maybe even comment) if it resonated with you.

Pile 1: you guys have quite a few blessings coming into your life very soon. I think one of these blessings is having a very good holiday season, specifically with your family. This may include travel as well, and just spending a LOT of time with the people you love. It’ll lift your spirits, and I think you’ll get a message from friends and family, possibly invitations really soon to events, and have a very fun time. People are going to be very kind to you really soon during this time, I honestly see this coming extremely fast, in days. You may reconnect with old friends and family you haven’t spoken to in awhile or see them. Time will go slowly in the sense you will feel like these loving moments last so long, and you’ll enjoy every second of it. For a lot of you I’m getting a specific message that you will have a lot of fun at a family gathering. (Take or how it resonates) you’ll generally just will feel happier and it’s going to stick to you for quite a bit. You’ll find yourself having a mindset change. You’ll be so happy and more positive about things in life. I feel like you’ll also get some clarity on things that were previously bothering you, you’ll get the comfort you need. I also see if you are struggling, whether financially, mentally, or both, you will be taken care of. You’ll realize many people care about you, and many things that happen in the next few days are going to surprise you in a good way. That’s all I got, I hope this resonated!

Pile 2: I see you guys have been working on something lately, and all that work is going to pay off very soon, and your faith will be restored. You’ll develop a better attitude and mindset about whatever this is you are working on, and you will be given the resources and materials to work on this extensively as your blessing. I feel like for most of you this will be a physical material. You will have people help you along the way, I see a masculine energy specifically coming in to help you. I think you’ve been working on this specific thing for a LONG TIME. I think that people are also going to start and acknowledge what this is in a positive light, for some of you what you are working on I don’t think some people in your life approve of, but they are going to have a change of heart. I see that you’ll finally be speaking up for yourself and what you want, and because of this you will be blessed. There are some many unexpected surprises coming your way, the universe or whatever higher power you believe in is asking you to hold onto your faith, because things are gonna change very soon. This is going to be a big refresher for you, you’ll finally be able to relax. This is all I got, I hope this resonated!

Pile 3: I feel like you guys have been searching for answers to something so much, and you’ve become so weary and tired at this point. You want to give up. I think you guys are finally going to be given an opportunity, that is going to give you the best outcome you could ever imagine. You got the two most positive cards in the deck. It’s right above the horizon. I think you’ve been shutting down solutions and help, and just refusing to listen to people, but I see you finally opening up, taking a change and committing to this opportunity. This opportunity is very external, and will give you the chance to finally get some balance in your life. I think this is something you’ve been wanting to change for some time, and it’s finally almost here. I think you will be supported by others in this opportunity given to you, making this very beautiful for you. I think you are gonna get so overwhelmingly happy. You’ll have a change in your mood as well, for the better. This will come very fast and very suddenly. Almost out of nowhere. I feel like this opportunity involves two or more things. This could be two or more people, two or more job offers, etc. but it’ll end up complimenting each other if it makes sense? I see this is something you’ve wished for for a long time I think. Just know it’s all going to work out. This is all I got, I hope this resonated!

Pile 4: You guys are going to be leaving a difficult situation, and entering a very positive one. You are going to be given so many opportunities in your new situation, that it might make you a bit overwhelmed with happiness. You’ll hit the jackpot with this one, and I get a very fated type of energy. You’ll be putting this old situation to rest, and you won’t think about it anymore. For most you reading this, you will be physically moving away from whatever this is as part of a new opportunity. I also think you are going to meet someone new in your life, for the better as a part of this situation. For most of you, this is a romantic situation you’ll be in because of this. I think this will be very clear when it’s happening, you’ll just know. You’ll feel more loved very soon, by somebody. I think this is the person offering these many opportunities to you. It’ll be a sign of relief once you are out this situation. Something tells me this could happen overnight for a small portion of you guys. But even if it’s not overnight, it’s coming soon. You are going to be healthily moving on as well, you won’t be in mourning. The holidays may be very special for you as well, or when all of this goes down. You may be quite nervous about anything changing, but I’m telling you you might be in shock! I feel this is something you previously believed could have never happened. Good luck! This is all I got, I hope this resonated.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 16: CUPID'S CHOKEHOLD

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

His touch ignites something within you - a spark of desire you've been trying to suppress for far too long. The want in you hurts. The frustration, the anger, the tenderness, it all boils within the core of you. It’s all coming to a head.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: mentions of pregnancy, angst, dom!reader, sub!satoru, handjobs, riding, teasing, light degradation, dacryphilia, vaginal sex

ੈ✩ wc: 8.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: happy thanksgiving yall can stop threatening me with bombs now

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

December, 2011

The crisp December air nips at your cheeks as you lead Megumi and Tsumiki down the bustling street. Christmas decorations twinkle in shop windows. You pull your scarf tighter, glancing back to make sure the children are keeping up.

Megumi trudges along, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his expression as serious as ever. Tsumiki, by contrast, practically skips beside you, her eyes wide with wonder at the festive displays. They both wear matching blushes, the cold painting their pale cheeks the same roseate pink.

"Can we get taiyaki?" Tsumiki asks, tugging on your sleeve and pointing to a small shop ahead.

You smile down at her. "Of course. What about you, Megumi? What would you like?"

The boy shrugs, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Whatever's fine."

You lead them into the warmth of the taiyaki shop, the sweet aroma of red bean paste and custard filling the air. As you wait in line, you crouch down to Megumi's level.

"You know," you say softly, ruffling his hair, "it's okay to want things, Megumi. To have preferences. You don't always have to go along with what everyone else wants."

He looks at you, surprise flashing across his face before his usual stoic expression returns. "I... I like the chocolate ones," he admits quietly.

You scratch his head affectionately. "Chocolate it is, then."

You place your order - custard for Tsumiki, chocolate for Megumi, and red bean for yourself. Afterwards, you find a bench in a nearby park to enjoy your treats. Tsumiki chatters away about her upcoming school play, while Megumi listens intently, occasionally nodding or offering a quiet comment.

"You’re gonna stay with us for the holidays, right? Are you gonna move in?" Tsumiki asks suddenly, her voice hopeful.

The question catches you off guard, and you fumble for an answer. "Um, yeah, I will. Stay, that is. And you guys know you can always just knock on my door downstairs."

You’d agreed to stay until the semester ended in the spring. You’d been around for a little over a month, but you already had your doubts about going back to Kyoto. Already, you found yourself looking forward to getting up in the morning while in Tokyo, seasonal depression be damned. You tell yourself it’s not because of the white-haired sorcerer that occupies your thoughts constantly — it’s the familiarity of the city. And the kids, of course.

To both Tsumiki and Satoru’s dismay (and a slight frown from Megumi), you decided to take the offer of an apartment the floor below them. It wasn’t exactly vacant, as Satoru claimed — the previous tenant, a well-off socialite of some sort, needed a sublet. You needed your own space from Satoru for your own sanity, and he was willing to pay the rent for the allotted time you could be there.

Tsumiki pouts. “But it’s easier if you just live in our apartment!”

“I can’t do that since you’ve converted the spare room into yours with all your dolls laying around,” you snort. Tsumiki opens her mouth to protest but decides against it, considering you have a point.

“Hmph. Still. You can sleep in Satoru’s room, right? It’s so big!”

Your face nearly pales at the suggestion, ironically. As if it was something scandalous, which perhaps it would be considering your complicated relationship. You’re sure he’d be thrilled if you brought it up.

Megumi looks up at you, his green eyes serious. "We like having you here," he says softly. "Satoru-san is... different when you're around. Better."

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "Better?"

Tsumiki nods enthusiastically. "He smiles more! And he doesn't forget to make breakfast as much."

You chuckle, imagining Satoru's indignant expression if he could hear this conversation. "Well, I'm glad I can help. But Satoru cares about you both very much, you know."

As if on cue, your phone buzzes with a photo attachment from him. There’s a boiling pot of… something, on the stove.

satoru: you guys aren’t going to leave me to eat by myself, are you????? ^-^

you: we’ll be home soon. the kids wanted taiyaki

satoru: don’t help them spoil their dinner :(

you: it’s probably more edible than what you’re making

satoru: :( say that to my face at least :(

You chuckle, locking your phone. “C’mon, guys. Let’s get home before Satoru burns down the kitchen.”

As you walk back home with Megumi and Tsumiki, their words echo in your mind. The realization that you've become such an integral part of their lives fills you with a trepidation, but also tenderness. You've been careful not to overstep, to maintain some semblance of boundaries, but the lines have been blurring more and more each day.

The apartment is warm and inviting when you return, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. You help the kids out of their winter gear, hanging up coats and scarves as they rush to see what Satoru is cooking.

You follow more slowly, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene. Satoru stands at the stove, stirring something in a large pot. His hair is slightly mussed, and he's wearing the ridiculous "Kiss the Cook" apron you bought him as a joke for his birthday. 

Satoru looks up, catching your eye. His face breaks into a warm smile, one that reaches his eyes and makes your heart skip a beat.

"Welcome home," he says softly. “Did you guys have fun?”

Tsumiki launches into an excited recounting of your afternoon, while Megumi nods along, occasionally adding a quiet comment. Satoru listens attentively, his expression softening as he watches the children.

You move into the kitchen, drawn by the warmth and the tantalizing aroma. "What's for dinner?" you ask, peering into the pot.

"Curry," Satoru announces proudly. "My specialty."

You raise an eyebrow skeptically. "Since when is curry your specialty?"

He grins, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. "Since I found your recipe book and followed the instructions very, very carefully."

His breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You playfully push him away, ignoring the knowing look Tsumiki gives you.

As you all sit down to eat, the conversation flows easily. Megumi talks about a new technique he's been practicing, while Tsumiki regales you with tales from her drama club. Satoru watches it all with a contented smile, occasionally catching your eye across the table.

Later, after the kids have gone to bed, you find yourself alone with Satoru in the living room. He's sprawled on the couch, his head in your lap as you absently run your fingers through his hair.

Satoru stretches languidly, cat-like. The movement causes his shirt to ride up slightly, revealing his stomach. You force yourself to look away, busying yourself with whatever’s on the television.

“So," Satoru says, his voice low and teasing, "what do you want for Christmas?"

You look down to face him, scoffing. "Who says I'm expecting anything from you?"

He grins that cocky, infuriating grin that still makes your stomach flip. "Come on, Twigs. There must be something you want."

“Haven’t really thought about it.

“C’mon. You must have.”

You weigh your words carefully. "How about... a nice, quiet evening, where you don’t bother me with your bullshit?"

Satoru laughs, his blue eyes warm as he regards you. "I think that can be arranged," he says softly.

He gets closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so tender, so intimate, that you find yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"You know," Satoru murmurs, his voice low, "the kids were asking me the other day if you were going to be their new mom."

Your breath catches in your throat. You narrow your eyes. "That’s not funny."

“What? Their words, not mine.”

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Satoru, we've talked about this. We can't just jump into playing house. It's not fair to the kids."

He sits up, his expression suddenly serious. "I know. But... is it so crazy to think about? Us, together, raising them? I mean, we’ve already been doing it, basically, right?”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you. You can feel your heart racing, a mix of longing and fear swirling in your chest.

"It's not crazy," you admit softly. "But it's complicated. We have a lot of history, Satoru. A lot of things we still need to work through. Also, you’re freshly twenty-two. That’s hardly the age to be a considered a guardian."

“But I am their guardian!” he frowns. “And your mom’s pretty young. Didn’t she have you around our age?”

“That’s not even — we’re going off topic. This isn’t about me having a kid,” you blush, the brief thought of mothering a child of your own with Satoru send a brief shock to your chest. “Just relax, okay? Take things slow.”

Satoru intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "Slow," he agrees. "I can do slow."

But even as he says it, you can see the mischievous glint in his eye. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But just so you know, I'm not very good at being patient."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gojo Satoru."

He grins, pulling you closer until you're practically in his lap. "Can you blame me? Do you have any idea how irresistible you are?"

Your breath hitches as his hand trails up your thigh. "Satoru," you warn, but there's no real heat behind it.

"What?" he asks innocently. "I'm behaving. This is me behaving."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly charming, you mean," he quips, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your neck.

You shiver at the contact, your resolve weakening with each passing moment. "The kids," you remind him weakly.

"Are fast asleep," he murmurs against your skin. "And I can be very, very quiet when I need to be."

“Speaking of asleep,” you say quickly, leaning away. “That’s exactly what I need to be right now.”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a whine, which you would rebuke more efficiently if the sound didn’t make heat settle in the pit of your stomach.

“You still didn’t give me my birthday present,” he murmurs. You don’t miss the suggestiveness in his gaze.

“I didn’t say I’d fuck you.”

“You kind of did,” he pouts.

“You’re still on that, huh? I was teasing you. And drunk.”

The last time you’d went out for drinks with him and Shoko, you’d gone home with him in a good mood, apparently good enough to let him be handsy. He took whatever crumbs he could get from you, played the part of a good dog after he had a few fruity cocktails. You let him kiss you on the side of your mouth and you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Even if he’d shut up, the puppy-dog looks he’d throw you would push you over the edge.

“You tease me every damn day by existing. I should banish you.”

“Right. Like you’d survive more time apart from me,” you snort.

“Of course not,” he rolls his eyes. “I love you too much.”

You meet his gaze, face warming at the casualness of his declaration. This is Satoru stripped bare, all his walls down, offering you his heart. It’s still something you’re not used to — the way he gives affection so easily. He always had, of course, but never so candid in sincerity.

It made you sick almost, like being sugar-drunk on something much too decadent. Humiliated you with how warm it made you, your tongue heavy as lead in your mouth like a teenager again.

“Oh?” Satoru grins. “Did that get you going?”

“No. Shut up.”

“You like that. Noted.”

You scoff, rising from the couch. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart!” he calls after you. “Love you.”

“Goodnight, weirdo,” you huff, trudging your feet towards the door. You pause as you touch the doorknob before turning around. “I love you too.”

You leave too quickly to gauge his reaction, but you feel his smile burn into the back of your neck.

__

You come home to Jiji rubbing his head against your shin. He was still small — a runt, resembling more like a soot sprite than the Ghibli cat he was named after. He acted a lot like Megumi, truthfully. Clung to you, bombarded your space especially if Satoru was around.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, scooping the cat from the floor to nuzzle. “You miss the kids, don’t you?”

He mews at you as if to say yes and you grin. You make your way upstairs, Jiji’s head tucked in your shoulder as you unlock Satoru’s apartment with your spare key.

Satoru is already in the kitchen, hair tousled from the day’s mission. His eyes light up when he sees you walk in. “Twigs! Ready for Operation Birthday Boy?” he grins, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Before you can greet him properly, your gaze drifts over the amount of balloons and streamers haphazardly aligning the walls. Many are Digimon-themed, despite knowing full well that Megumi preferred Pokemon, but that isn’t an argument that was worth having with Satoru unless you wanted him to revert to his child-self.

“You… went all out,” you mutter, still examining the expanse of the living room. There were streamers every color under the sun strung around, comically bright in contrast with the luxury apartments plain white walls.

The smell of cake batter and melting chocolate permeates through the air. You notice then as you step closer towards Satoru that the Italian marble of the kitchen island is dusted with flour. You groan.

“Satoru, I thought we were picking up a cake—”

“But a homemade one has more love!” he scoffs. He’s made a mess of his apron, not to mention there was a streak of pink frosting on his cheekbone.

“And who said you were qualified enough to bake?”

“Hey! I’m trying here! And don’t worry, I’m not making dinner, obviously. We still have to pick up the hors d’oeuvres from the catering place—”

“What? We’re celebrating a nine-year-old.”

“You get expensive taste when you live with me,” he shrugs. “You like oysters, right? I heard it’s a really good aphrodisiac— ow!”

He flinches when you flick him in the forehead. He pouts, rubbing his head as if you’d actually inflicted damage on him.

“The hell was that for?”

You ignore his question. “Where are the kids? It’s like… dinner time. School should be out by now.”

“I told Shoko to pick them up and stall. I’m still preparing.”

“Satoru — seriously? You decided to make the cake right before we celebrate?”

“It won’t take long! This is a state-of-the-art oven for your information!” Satoru scoffs, rinsing his hands in the sink. The amount of flour on the marble of the island makes you cringe. And was that… an egg yolk stain in the corner?

“That doesn’t mean—”

The oven beeps as if to taunt you. Satoru grins, putting on oven mitts that are comically too small for him to take out the cake. It’s certainly cake-shaped despite the lumpy bubbles on top.

“Wanna help me decorate the cake for the birthday boy?”

You move in front of him, shooing him away. He pouts again, the expression making you want to simultaneously hit him and kiss him, and hands you a butter knife and a tub of mint green frosting.

“Go crazy, Twigs,” he sighs. “I should shower anyway.”

You take the time to meticulously cover the entirety of the chocolate cake in the frosting, with Happy Birthday, Megumi! in loopy script in the middle. You’re quick to clean the rest of the kitchen, still reeling from how much of a mess Satoru managed to make in your absence.

By the time Satoru emerges from his bedroom, the kitchen is mostly clean, and he steps into the room in a crisp baby-blue dress shirt and black slacks. You try to ignore the fluttering sensation in your belly at the sight of it. It was your favorite outfit on him and he probably wore it knowing that. You huff lightly, looking away.

You gain reprieve from his teasing when you hear the door open. More balloons float into the room, all bound in Tsumiki’s small hand as she walks in with Shoko and Megumi.

“Happy birthday, Megumi-kun!” you exclaim in glee, walking towards him for a hug. He smiles brightly, blushing as he hugs you back.

Satoru notices the takeout boxes in Shoko’s hands and raises a brow. “You took them to eat dinner already?”

“Obviously. They definitely weren’t going to eat the foie gras you ordered or whatever the fuck,” she snorts. “But more for the adults, eh?”

“Can you not swear around them –”

“I knew the word fuck before!” Tsumiki beams. You share an exasperated look with Satoru, but he’s only holding in a laugh.

As Shoko and Satoru get the kids settled, you lock Jiji in the spare room to prevent Megumi’s Divine dogs from chasing the poor thing. They were all bared teeth, bright eyes. Still puppies, still young like the kids. 

Afterwards, you return to the living room just in time for Satoru to bring out the cake with pastel lit candles atop of it.

Megumi is quiet as everyone shrouds him, gazing at the birthday cake like he’s never seen one before. He hasn’t really — maybe he did when his parents were still together and alive and didn’t fuck off to somewhere else, he doesn’t know — but even he did, he wouldn’t remember. He had only known shared dandelion wishes with Tsumiki, fuzzy memories of Toji patting his head when on his sixth birthday.

You look at him now and you see a child who doesn’t know what to do with all the love surrounding him, and the sight reminds you of yourself.

“Make a wish, Megumi,” you say softly. He looks up at you with wide eyes as if making a wish were to make a sacrifice. He closes his eyes and blows the candles out, smiling softly as everyone claps.

You lean back on the couch as you watch him unwrap his presents, which include an abundance of hastily-wrapped boxes from Satoru. Toya and electronics that the kid probably haven’t dreamt of owning. Satoru was still young in his own right and it showed in his animated way of speaking, excitedly presenting his gifts to Megumi like he was an older brother. Your chest feels uncharacteristically warm as you watch.

You, Satoru, and Shoko watch as the kids play amongst themselves, indulging yourselves in the catering that Satoru had bought, which was more of a luxury takeout order more than anything. The bottle of wine that Shoko had brought makes you able to tolerate Satoru’s antics. You refuse to admit to him, but you even find him endearing tonight.

After the ordeal, Shoko hugs you and departs to her own apartment, while Satoru entertains the kids with a new video game console he’d bought for Megumi. After cleaning, Satoru insists in you joining, which results in many competitive games of Super Street Fighter IV.

Tsumiki is the first to doze off on the couch, her head cradled in your lap as you stroke her hair gently.

“Hey, kid,” Satoru whispers to Megumi, “Looks like your sister’s knocked out. It’s about time for bed, don’t ya think?”

“But I wanted to play more Final Fantasy!” Megumi whines.

“We can play some more tomorrow,” you quip. “It’s been a long day.”

“Okay,” he pouts, taking your hand as you lead him to his bedroom.

Satoru is lounging on the couch once you return, grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just a good mom.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Told you we’re not playing house, Satoru,” you scoff, slumping your body into the couch next him.

“I know,” he says softly. “I’m just complimenting your ability to rein in some brats.”

“Had a lot of practice from you.”

He laughs.

You glance at him, noticing his mussed-up hair, the soft wrinkles of his button-down. He looked more grown-up than he meant to be. It wasn’t that Satoru looked particularly mature, but seeing him slightly disheveled after handling Megumi’s birthday made him look older than how you’d seen him in earlier years — childish, boyish. In the light of the dim lamp beside him, he looked like a man with responsibilities.

It was like seeing him in the future. But you’re here now, in his apartment, in the present, and the sight of him looking so domestic is doing awful things to your heart.

“You’re… really good with them, too, you know. You don’t really need me,” you murmur.

“Huh?” Satoru raises his brows. “No. Of course I need you.”

You almost blush at that. You’re glad for the wine that he’s given you, relaxing your muscles, giving you an excuse for the flush in your cheeks.

“You can do it on your own, though,” you say softly. “You’re just… better at this than I thought you’d be. It’s admirable. That’s all.”

His gaze softens. “Thanks, Twigs. That means a lot.”

He looks at you then, almost amused, as if the concept of a compliment from you had been completely unheard of. As if the notion alone made him flattered enough to forget humility. (Though, you’re sure the prodigal Satoru Gojo has never known humility.)

“So you’re praising me, then? Do I win best babysitter of the year?” he chuckles.

“Sure. Whatever,” you snort. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Oh, but I must. You think I’m a complete disaster usually, but you’re telling me I was good with the kids tonight? My head is huge, Twigs.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. Trying to hide the way your stomach feels hotter when you look at him and his charming grin. He looks back at you with an expression that makes your pulse go faster.

“You’re cute.”

You blink at him. His voice is heady and husky, his gaze soft. Tentative as he leans in, clearly wary that he’d spook you by crossing the invisible line you’ve set since you decided to move back to Tokyo.

“Speechless, baby?” he drawls. “I didn’t even try hard at flirting this time.”

“Shut up,” you scoff, paying more attention to your glass of wine. “You’re hardly seducing me right now.”

“Never said I was trying to,” he murmurs, leaning into you. His hand is on your knee and you don’t swat him away, for once. In his mind, this is progress.

“But you’re always trying to.” You narrow your eyes.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

He hums, the vibration of his voice like warm honey. “Mm. Am not.”

“Okay. I’m going to bed now.” You rise from the couch, but Satoru catches your wrist in his large, pale hand. You look at him with a brow raised.

“Sleep here tonight?”

“No.”

“C’mon. Please? I won’t try anything.”

You contemplate. You aren’t truly at the brink of exhaustion, but the demands Yaga-sensei made of you at school had started to become one of your main stressors. You’re tired. You definitely don’t feel like going downstairs to your own apartment, Jiji in hand, having to clean up the mess in your own space that you ignored in lieu of preparing for Megumi’s birthday.

You swallow, clenching your jaw. “Fine. I’m feeling lazy tonight.”

Satoru smiles wide, flashing his white teeth. Angel-headed under the soft glow of the lamp. You have to look away before your stomach stirs with something you’ll ruminate over.

“Stay in my bed?”

“Satoru—”

“Come on. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Also, the spare room is a mess. The kids made a blanket fort in there last night that is yet to be deconstructed.”

“Okay. Whatever,” you mutter, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up. Afterwards, you return to Jiji and scoop him up in your arms, pleased at the way the cat nuzzles into your face.

You step into Satoru's bedroom, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size of the space. The bed is enormous, draped in crisp white sheets that look almost too pristine to touch. It smells faintly of him—clean, like fresh linen and a hint of something sharp and sweet, like cedarwood mixed with sugar. You’re already regretting this decision, though perhaps not entirely for the reasons you’d like to admit.

You undress and change into one of his t-shirts before crawling into his bed. Satoru follows you in shortly after, pausing in the doorway with an infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face.

“You know,” he begins, leaning casually against the frame as he folds his arms across his chest, “I didn’t think my birthday present would be you gracing me with your presence in my bed tonight, but honestly? Best gift ever.”

You glare at him from over your shoulder as you set Jiji down on the floor. The little cat immediately darts under Satoru’s bed for refuge—likely avoiding any further encounters with Megumi’s Divine dogs, or perhaps the bubbling conflict in the room itself.

“Your birthday was weeks ago. Don’t push your luck,” you warn flatly. “I gave in because I’m tired. This isn’t some… romantic gesture.”

“Oh, sure,” he teases, taking a few steps closer until he towers over you. His voice drops to a playful murmur as he gleefully adds, “But it could be.”

You groan audibly and climb onto the far side of the bed—intentionally as far away from him as possible—and tug the edge of the comforter over yourself without sparing him another glance. "Goodnight, Satoru."

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, pulling off his socks and tossing them carelessly across the room. He casually strips off his shirt and pants, throwing them somewhere near the hamper – not inside it, of course – before flopping down beside you like a content cat. He stretches out languidly, one arm tucked behind his head as he turns to watch you. You try not to dwell on the fact that he’s beside you, only in his boxers.

The room falls quiet save for the soft hum of the heater kicking on and Jiji occasionally rustling beneath the bed. You shut your eyes tightly and try to relax, but there’s no ignoring how aware you are of Satoru's presence beside you—the way his breathing evens out gradually or how his arm brushes yours when he shifts.

Minutes pass in silence before he finally speaks again, his voice softer this time—devoid of its usual teasing edge. “You really think I’m good with them? Megumi and Tsumiki?”

You open your eyes but don’t immediately respond. There’s something vulnerable about his tone that catches you off guard—a rare glimpse at the pieces of himself he so often keeps hidden beneath his bravado.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly after a pause. Turning your head slightly to look at him in the dim light filtering through the curtains, you add honestly, “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

He turns his head toward you now too, studying you intently. For a second, neither of you speak. His gaze holds yours long enough for your chest to tighten uncomfortably under its weight.

“You’re good for them too,” he says softly after what feels like an eternity. His voice has lost all pretense now—it’s raw and earnest in a way that has always made you feel unsteady around him. "For us."

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

Silence falls over you both, but you can still feel Satoru’s begging eyes boring into your skull. You look over to him and it feels like his blue eyes are glowing in the dark. He strips his gaze from you and looks up at the ceiling instead, feigning a casual demeanor.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension. You can feel the heat radiating from Satoru's body, achingly close yet still too far. His eyes, usually so bright and mischievous, are dark and intense as they roam over your face.

"Twigs," he murmurs, his voice low. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you roll over to face him. In the dim light, his eyes are impossibly blue, gleaming with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek with a tenderness that surprises you.

"I meant what I said," Satoru continues, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You're good for us. For me."

He moves closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as his thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone. You can feel his breath, warm against your skin, as he leans in.

You swallow hard. "Satoru," you warn, but your voice lacks conviction.

He sighs but leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Please."

You know you should push him away. You know this is dangerous territory, that you're teetering on the edge of something irreversible. You’re too stubborn for your own good, both you and Satoru know this. It’s why you curl into his chest instead of pressing your mouth to his. The fear of falling into his charm is futile, especially with how much you want him, frustratingly so.

Satoru's hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, it occurs to you how close you are to him, how intimate this feels. The air between you feels charged, electric.

He says your name, this time, bedroom-soft. Not Twigs, not baby, but your name.

Instead of shying away as you normally might, something shifts inside you. Maybe it's the wine from earlier, or the vulnerability in Satoru's voice, or simply the culmination of months of unresolved tension. Whatever it is, it emboldens you.

His touch ignites something within you - a spark of desire you've been trying to suppress for far too long. The want in you hurts. The frustration, the anger, the tenderness, it all boils within the core of you. It’s all coming to head. When you hear the way Satoru says your name, you decide that you need catharsis.

In one fluid motion, you grab Satoru’s wrist, pinning it above his head as you roll on top of him. His eyes widen in surprise, lips parting in a soft gasp.

"Is this what you want, Satoru?" you breathe, your face inches from his. "Is this why you've been pushing so hard?"

"W-what are you doing?" he stammers, caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

Your free hand trails down his chest, fingernails scraping lightly against the skin of his bare chest. Satoru shudders beneath you, his body arching into your touch. You can feel his heart racing, see the flush creeping up his neck under the pale moonlight.

"You talk a big game," you murmur. "But can you handle it when someone else takes control?"

Satoru swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Try me," he challenges, but there's a tremor in his voice that betrays his nervousness.

You pull back, meeting his gaze with a taunting smile. Slowly, deliberately, you grind your hips against his, eliciting a low moan from Satoru. His free hand moves to grip your waist, but you catch it, pinning both his wrists above his head.

"No,” you chastise. "No touching unless I say so."

Satoru's eyes darken with desire, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You're killing me, Twigs," he groans.

"Good," you purr, leaning down to nip his jaw. 

You take your time exploring his body with your hands, savoring every gasp and shudder you draw from him as if it’s the first time you’ve touched him. Satoru writhes beneath you, struggling against your grip, desperate for more contact. But you maintain control, setting a torturously slow pace that has him practically begging.

"Please," he whimpers, his usual cockiness completely shattered. "I need you."

You smile against his skin, enjoying this newfound power. You scoff. "I thought you said you could do slow?"

He lets out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow. "That was before I knew how evil you could be."

"Evil?" you chuckle, trailing your fingers down his chest. "I'm barely taunting you. If anything, I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine."

You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Besides, I thought you liked it when I took charge."

Satoru shivers beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I do," he admits, his voice strained. "God, I do."

You smile, a predatory glint in your eyes as you slowly grind against him. The friction draws a low moan from Satoru, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He can feel the warmth of your core, your heat against his cock with only two layers of fabric separating him from what he truly wants.

You tsk, pressing him firmly back down onto the mattress.

"Stay still," you command. "Or I'll stop altogether."

With deliberate slowness, you trail your fingers down his chest, savoring the way his muscles quiver beneath your touch. Satoru's breathing grows ragged as your hand dips lower, tracing the V of his hips before stopping just short of where he wants – no, needs you most.

"Twigs," he groans, frustration evident in his voice. "Stop teasing."

You laugh, nipping at his collarbone. "But you make it so fun, Satoru."

Your free hand ghosts over the front of his boxers, barely applying pressure. Satoru's hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, but you pull away with a wicked grin.

“I told you I’d stop if you misbehave.”

Satoru's eyes flash with a mix of desire and defiance. "You wouldn't dare."

You raise an eyebrow, accepting his challenge. Slowly, you begin to pull away, but Satoru's words tumble out in a rush.

"Wait!” he gasps, panicked. “I'm sorry, I'll be good. Please, don't stop."

The desperation in his voice sends a thrill through you. You've never seen Satoru like this - completely at your mercy, his usual bravado stripped away. Even in the dark, his eyes usually glow aquamarine, but right now pools of onyx stare back at you underneath heavy white lashes.

"That's better," you murmur, rewarding him with a slow, sensual kiss. He whines into it, licks into your mouth like he’s begging you to eat him whole. 

You take your time with him mapping every dip and curve of his upper body with your lips and tongue. Satoru writhes beneath you, soft whimpers escaping him as you lavish attention on his most sensitive spots.

When you finally free him from his boxers, Satoru lets out a sigh of relief. But instead of giving him what he wants, you continue your slow pace, placing feather-light kisses along his inner thighs. He huffs when you press his thumb against his leaking slit, while you look at him with a grin as you apply pressure.

“You have such a pretty cock, Satoru.”

His face gets even warmer, if that was possible. “Sh-shut up–”

You raise your brows. “What was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes widen aa your mean expression. "N-Nothing! I’m sorry. Just – please," Satoru begs, his voice hoarse. "I need you. I need—"

You silence him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. The kids are sleeping, remember? We wouldn't want to wake them, would we?"

Satoru's breath hitches at the reminder, and he bites his lip to stifle a moan as he watches you spit on his cock, finally wrapping your hand around him. You set a maddeningly slow rhythm, watching with satisfaction as Satoru struggles to keep quiet. Your mouth grazes him, only barely. He needs you around him, completely. His cock is fucking aching for it.

A whine escapes Satoru's throat, his hips jerking upward. "Twigs, please. I can't— I need—"

Cruelly, you cover his mouth with your palm. You have half the mind to gag him. You’re tempted to, really, but you’ve already slipped off your panties and thrown them somewhere across the room.

“Baby—”

“Stop fucking talking,” you hiss, your hand around his throat. He gasps, looks at you with half-lidded eyes. Mouth parted. Lovestruck. “Be good.”

He complies, whimpering softly instead of pleading with useless words. You watch his eyes roll back as your hand moves from his shaft to his tip, your spit lubricating his twitching cock along with the precum collecting at the top.

You savor the power you hold over him, watching his chest heave with each labored breath. Satoru's usual cockiness has evaporated, leaving him vulnerable and needy beneath you. It's intoxicating.

You can feel him trembling beneath you, every muscle taut with the effort of staying quiet. His hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white, eyes shut tight. You release his throat, trailing your fingers down his chest as you position yourself above him.

"Look at me," you command softly.

Satoru's eyes flutter open, hazy with desire. His hands graze your waist tentatively, smoothing over the soft skin over your ribs underneath the t-shirt (his t-shirt) that clings loosely to your frame.

He can almost feel how wet you are, he swears it. His Six Eyes can see everything from the tremble of your pulse, sensing how much your desires are waiting to jump out of your skin. The wetness of your pink mouth. He feels delirious with want, deluded, maybe, just from the intensity of his senses as he takes in your presence.

He could be hallucinating how intense it all really is. He isn’t sure — he’s too drunk on the fact that you’re in his lap at all, partially bare. Your bare cunt hovering over his cock. Taunting. Fucking tease. If he wanted, he could flip you over and restrain you. Have your hands yanked to your lower back, make you yelp like a slut.

But he doesn’t. He’s already a mess for you, no matter what you intend to do to him. He knows there’s something so awful inside of him that’s waiting to crawl out something only you can coax out.

When you look at him with moonlight reflecting in your pupils, the desire overtakes him. Despite himself, he rises him to meet your mouth, desperate for a kiss or any semblance of one, but your hand tightens around his throat. He moans at the pressure of it and blushes, embarrassed. He whines.

“Ha. Nice try. You’re so fucking eager, huh? Missed me that much?” you taunt. It’s cruel and you know it. You’ve known how much he’s wanted you — you’ve defied it when he’s been too candid about it. And now, while his heart is on his sleeve with your name in the center, you tease him.

He would take you over his knee for it if he wasn’t fucking melting underneath you.

“Of course I missed you,” Satoru grits.

“Oooh, so feisty. You look like an angry dog, you know that?” you sneer.

“Belittle me all you want,” he narrows his eyes, “Just let me — fuck —”

He perks up his head and tries to kiss you but you reject him. He has to stifle a groan. His resolve is crumbling into nothingness.

“Please fuck me,” he gasps. “Or just kiss me. Do anything you want. I just — I don’t care. I need you —”

Satoru writhes against the bedsheets. Grits his teeth, baring his canines like a dog ready to fight. But you’re as gentle as you are evil, able to weaken his efforts just by the slight tilt of your plump mouth. A knowing smirk.

“You need me?” you laugh.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Need you. Only you —”

You spit and he watches the drool cascade down to his aching cock. His eyes widen, mesmerized and choked up as you stroke him. He shudders, body arching towards you at the contact.

“Oh, fuck—” he breathes, unable to form words. Your hand feels better than his own. The warmth of your body above him makes his blood sing.

He pants pathetically as you grin down at him with wolf-teeth. He could cry from your touch alone.

"Relax," you breathe, leaning down to nip at his earlobe. "I'll give you what you need."

“Can’t relax — need — ah!” he whimpers. “Please, please —”

“Are you begging?” you taunt, laughing.

“Yes!” he groans.

You hold his gaze as you slowly sink down onto him, savoring the stretch and fullness. A strangled sound escapes him, quickly muffled as he bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood.

You roll your hips carefully, rising and falling with agonizing slowness. Satoru's hips twitch upwards, seeking more, but you pin them down firmly. Your movements are languid as you relish each tiny gasp and stifled moan you draw from him.

You gradually increase your speed, grinding down harder with each thrust. Satoru's breathing grows ragged, his chest heaving. You can feel him getting close, see it in the tension of his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

Just as he's about to fall over the edge, you slow to a stop. Satoru lets out a frustrated whine, cut off as you press your lips to his in a bruising kiss.

"Not yet," you murmur against his mouth. "I'm not done with you."

“I’m so — fuck,” he slurs, “So close —”

“That’s too bad. Fucking wait.”

His cock throbs at your tone. Your face is calm, tauntingly so, but your voice is cutting with authority.

“God, if I wasn’t so in love with you right now I’d be giving you the worst spanking you’ve ever—” You cut Satoru off, shoving your fingers in his mouth. His eyes roll back immediately, gagging, and you laugh cruelly.

“Oh, you love that. You little slut.”

He moans at the degradation, bucks his hips up in attempt to meet your core again. His large hands are around your waist, trembling as they press in with a bruising grip. You remove your fingers from his mouth, using both your hands to pry off his hands and pin them next to his head. 

“Hey,” you warn, talking to him as if he’s a bad dog. “Told you to be good. Hands up here until I say so, Satoru.”

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes, trying not to whine. His hands curl into fists, clenching and unclenching as he tries to calm the lion heart beating out of his chest while his body is forced into submission by the girl he’s always had power over. 

He stills his body despite himself, though his dick still aches in anticipation. He’s trying to be good for you. The best. 

You lean over to bite at his nipple and he gasps. The role-reversal was dizzying, particularly because you were using his own tricks against him. He feels like he might lose his mind.

“Stop– stop that–” he rasps.

“Why should I? I know you like it. You like when I play with you.”

“I– I–”

“You’d love it if I just used you, right? You want me so much you’d let me touch you in any way, any time of the day. Am I wrong?” You lift your head to meet his gaze, lifting your brow.

He flushes with embarrassment, stomach flipping at your words. “N-No,” he mumbles. 

“That’s what I thought, baby,” you chuckle. Your nails run through his undercut and he sighs in satisfaction, looking at you through wet eyes. 

“I’m keeping my hands to myself,” he simpers. “Please, just fuck me, I promise I’ll be good —”

“Oh? You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes —”

“Mm. Wanna keep playing with you. Lay your head on the pillow properly for me, Satoru.” He obeys you without question, eyes half-lidded with lust as he awaits further instruction. There’s a stupor in his face, dumb with love. He’d do anything you asked. 

Your cunt pulsates around nothing, pleased at his obedience – you’ve never seen him so desperate, despite knowing he wasn’t above begging. Even before, you’d give in, allowing him to use you like a ragdoll. But this — this was entirely new territory. Satoru Gojo was being reduced to tears.

You climb over to him, cunt above his neck. His eyes are blown out, wet as his mouth. 

“You want a taste?”

He nods eagerly, too quickly, too possessed by desire to be embarrassed about it anymore. He wanted you any way he could have you.

You sink down to his mouth and the groan he lets out is louder than you expect.

“Satoru,” you hiss. “Keep it down.”

He whines, lapping at your pussy sloppily. You gasp when he flicks the tip of his tongue your swollen clit. Your thighs tremble as you try to stay upright, knuckles straining against the top of his headboard. At the same time, he uses the opportunity to squeeze the plushness of your ass – something you’d admonish him for if his mouth didn’t feel so fucking good.

“Oh,” you moan out softly, “That’s so good. Just like that, Satoru —”

He moans, his mouth leaking with his own drool and your arousal. It was a treat for him – you never liked sitting on his face for some reason, always blushed when he’d suggest it. But now, he was getting what he wanted. You were throwing him a bone. 

Satoru wants desperately to fist his cock, relieve the ache inside him that keeps building when he hears you whimper, but his hands are too preoccupied with touching you everywhere else. Your ass, your waist, the softness of your breasts underneath your t-shirt. His girl in the palm of his hand.

Your nails scratch his scalp, pulling on the strands of his hair as you grind on his face. Smearing yourself all over him. “Close–”

He doubles down on his efforts and all of it makes you see stars – supernovas clashing together in the fuzzy black behind your eyelids. You have to cover your mouth to keep down the sound of your moan.

His hands are squeezing your thighs. You yelp, overstimulated as his mouth latches onto your clit with no intention of letting go despite your orgasm.

“Satoru, no — no more —”

You roll off of him, ass tumbling onto his torso as he holds you upright. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, kissing you hard. You don’t have a chance to breathe before he does it, but you don’t care — your pussy drips in his lap as he maneuvers you straddle him properly, mouth moaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You can’t take it anymore. You need to be full of him.

You push him off you, pinning him to the bed as your cunt swallows his cock. You wince at the stretch after not taking him for so long, but the resistance quickly disappears from how turned on you are. You’re so overly sensitive from your orgasm that his tip hits your g-spot immediately, stimulation to the max as you grind on him at an angle that brings pressure to your insides. 

“Holy fuck –” Satoru gasps, hands on your hips in a vice grip.

He’s determined to take back any semblance of control, but he fucking loses it at the feeling of being inside you after months and months of a dry spell. You were better than any of his wet dreams. 

He bites his lip in attempt to suppress his whines, hands encouraging the roll of your hips as you grind down on his cock. He loves being used by you, fucked dumb and marvelling at the warmth of your skin on his. He lifts up your t-shirt and you let him pull it off you.

You look down and see puppy-dog eyes gazing at you spilling with tears of pleasure. Angel boy. 

You don’t give him a warning when you finish like you have in the past. It crashes into you, a collision of ecstasy. Months of denying him from your bed and your brain made you forget that he was your very best. Your first and perhaps your last. 

The thought takes the breath out of your lungs. In a moment of lucidity, you look at Satoru full-on, your lust-filled haze clearing to see him fully in adoration. Tears streaming down his cheeks, love painted all over his face.

He hiccups, whimpering. “Baby, I’m close – fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t help it! P-Please, can I —”

You shut him up with a kiss. “Come for me, Satoru,” you whisper against his mouth. “You’re so good. So good to me.”

His eyes widen. He’s about to gasp out a reply but he’s so overwhelmed by your words, the impossible warmth of your cunt sucking him in.

“I love you so much,” you coo, hips gyrating in tandem with his hands guiding you. “You wanna be good for me, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Then go ahead and come for me, baby.”

“Ah – fuck –” Satoru feels his mouth part involuntarily, letting out the ghost of a moan as he chokes up. The ache in his body bursts into sparks, his cum filling you up to the brim as his orgasm plundered through him. 

His legs are shaking.

His comedown is all erratic breaths, small gasps as he wills his heart rate down to a normal speed. He whimpers as he lifts his head to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your warm flesh before you allow him to kiss you tenderly. 

He mumbles something against your mouth that you don’t quite hear.

“Hm?” You attempt to pull away and he whines like a child. You kiss him again and he deepens it, fingers gathering the hair at your nape.

“Letsgetmarried,” he mutters into your jaw.

“What?”

“What?”

You pull back, staring at him with an amused grin. “Did you just propose to me?”

Satoru stares back at you, his snowy hair sticking out haphazardly. “Maybe. Yes. Like, yes, but also no.”

“You’re giving me mixed signals here.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he slurs. “You fucked me too good. I wanna buy you a house.”

You burst into laughter and pet his head. “You don’t need to do that. You already pay my rent.”

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. Cradles you to his chest, which you don’t protest.

“I love you.”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

Silence fills the room, save for your soft breathing. You clear your throat and stretch your limbs.

“You’re not actually asking me to marry you, right?” you ask warily. 

“Why not? We already have kids.”

“They are not our kids —”

“They may as well be!”

“Satoru,” you snap.

“Okay, okay. I’m half-joking. But I’m serious when I say that I… I think you’re it for me,” Satoru mumbles. “Don’t want anyone else. Ever.”

You look up at him, your eyes glistening. “Me neither.”

You mean it. You suppose that the months without him were a lesson in patience, in self-preservation. You can’t deny that he was your missing piece despite it all, despite the hell you went through with him. 

Satoru has always held a slice of heaven – it clung to him, that divinity. You are the only thing that keeps him from dimming.

[verycoolusername1]

Somebody Who Will

Summary: In which you get the best present of all this holiday season... even if it can't fit under the tree

Track 2 of fruitcake - buy me presents

A/N: missed writing for my babyyy

I never done secret Santa before so idrk how it's done- so I'm apologizing beforehand.

Working for the devils was amazing as it always is well if you exclude the absolute chaos that happens when you're hanging out with the team.

Seeing Cap every day was definitely a plus. Did you have a crush on your co-worker who you definitely shouldn't have a crush on? Yes.

Did you tell one of his best friends about said crush on your fellow co-worker? Also yes.

Jack nudged your side, getting your attention.

"Did you hear Nico? We're doing secret Santa today." Jack told you. "I just hope I don't get Luke again."

You laughed beside him. "What a nightmare that was."

"Haha very funny." Jack rolled his eyes.

You put your hand in the bowl and picked up a piece of paper, Jack did the same as well.

Your eyes widened when you saw the name on yours, Nico.

"Shit," You cursed. "Hey Jack can we switch?" You whispered.

Jack only chucked. "Hm sorry dude, mine is actually a good one. Who did you get? Was it Nico?"

Jack laughed louder when you didn't reply. "Oh my god is it actually?"

You huffed. "Don't get too happy, only gonna make my feelings for him worse than it already is."

"Well we have two weeks till the Christmas party, I'm sure you'll find a gift and a way to tell him." He reassured you.

You shrugged. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say hughes."

"I mean I can help you... but only if you get good photos of me on the ice today." Jack looked at you, seriously.

You rolled your eyes. "So more girls can swoon over you? No way."

"Fine help me with mine, and I'll maybe set you up with Nico, I got Dawson." Jack confessed.

"See now we're getting somewhere, this can work." You grinned. "And hm I'll throw in the photos for free."

Jack hugged you tight. "You're the best!"

"I know, you never tell me enough."

The next two weeks have been a blur, suddenly you were about to go to the Christmas party in a couple of minutes, gift in hand.

When you first walked into the party you were heavily greeted by some of the wags and of course, Jack.

"Have you talked to Nico yet? Did you confess your undying love for him?" Jack immediately laughed.

You swatted your hand at him in embarrassment as the wags gave knowing looks, some smirking.

"He's... he's joking guys." You tried to tell them.

One of them chuckled. "Don't think I ever seen Jack joke about this." The wags began agreeing.

You groaned internally, it was one thing when Jack was saying it but the wags as well? You were doomed.

"Oh hey is that Nico over there? On the balcony." Jack pointed out.

You snapped your head immediately, ignoring the chuckles and saw that Jack was in fact right.

"I-I'll be right back." You begin to walk off, the wags and Jack(who is somehow the loudest) cheering you on.

You opened the door, signaling your arrival. Nico's shoulder relaxed when he saw it was you.

"Hey." He smiled softly.

You moved closer to him. "Hey. I got you a little something."

You gave him the gift which he immediately accepted. You awaited his reaction as he unwrapped the gift. A photo of the two of you in a photoframe(that you definitely didn't steal from Jack).

"Wow..." Nico was at a lost of words.

It was a silly photo really, Jack took it one night. You smiled big at the camera while Nico was too busy looking at you, trapped in a love sick gaze.

"This is amazing." Nico looked at you. "Thank you."

"Oh it's not a big deal, kinda had to get you something." You shrugged it off to ignore your racing heart.

Nico chuckled softly at your reaction, clearly amused.

"So what's with the bow?" You chuckled, gesturing to his hair where it was stuck... oddly.

"Jack made me do it." Nico mutters. "Said I would make a good present for you? I did get an actual present for you though, it's kinda big."

You are grinning, biting back a smile. "Well you still look cute if that means anything."

Nico pulled you closer in his embrace. "Oh yeah?"

You nodded. "Definitely."

You take the bow off his head. "I like you better without it though."

You looked back to see Nico with a slight flush appearing on his face.

"You truly think that?" Nico asked, vulnerability evident in his tone.

You nod slowly, smiling. "Of course, I would be a fool if I didn't."

"I love you Y/n." Nico's hand traces your hip lightly. "Just wanted you to know."

You sighed. "I love you too Nico, no need to worry about it."

You leaned into his touch, the two of you staying like that for a while as the night whisked you two away in your own little world.

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Jin x Reader

Summary: Jin just wants to make your birthday memorable, but what happens when life gets too hectic and makes him forget?

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me a little bit to get to.

Masterlist

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Life moved quickly with Jin, in multiple ways.

The first time you ever met, he asked for your number, fearing you wouldn’t cross paths again and he might not get another chance. You both said ‘I love you’ less than two months into dating, after he accidentally let it slip out during one of your first nights together, you even ended up moving in with him after less than a year when the apartment you were subletting fell through(or more accurately, flooded through, but whatever)

Things also moved quickly because of your careers. Sometimes days would flick by without your realizing, a week would turn into two before either of you noticed, and then suddenly it’s been nearly two months since your last technical date.

Despite your reassurances that you understood, Jin felt guilty at times for the two of you missing out on special occasions like holidays or anniversaries with each other, but one day he promised he wouldn’t let slip past was your birthday.

You weren't exactly a fan of making a big fuss for your birthday, but Jin wanted to make it special for you.

“I’ll cook,” He’d promised you. “I’ll make all your favorites, as well as traditional seaweed soup for good luck, and then we’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”

“What if I don’t want to do anything?” You’d asked, raising a brow as you sat on his lap.

“Then we’ll do nothing together,” He’d replied, pulling you closer. “And have a wonderful time doing it.”

It’d been an easy promise to make when your birthday was still almost a month away, but as the days and weeks passed, things became increasingly hectic. Comeback season was drawing close, and with it came the pressure and chaos of constant rehearsals, video shoots, and promotional activities, leaving Jin little time to think about much else. Half the time you were already asleep before he got home at night, tiredly wrapping himself around you for a few precious hours before starting the cycle all over again.

He didn’t even know what day of the week it was until Jimin spoke up as they slumped against the wall, trying to catch their breath during rehearsals.

“Oh, how’s Y/n? Did they like their gift?” Jimin asked. “I haven't heard from them since I texted happy birthday this morning.”

Jin felt his heart screech to a stop as he looked over at the younger man, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“The flowers you helped us pick out? I figured they would’ve-” Jimin’s voice trailed off as he noticed the growing look of horror on Jin’s face. “Tell me you didn’t forget?”

Jin’s whole body felt cold as he fumbled for his phone, stomach dropping as he read the date, and then the numerous text notifications from you.

His hands shook as he read your words, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

‘You left this morning before I got to say it, but love you💖’

‘Do you know what time you’ll be home?’

'Ngl, I'm kinda excited for tonight, it's been ages since I had your cooking😋'

‘Jinnie? Is everything okay?’

‘You’re not coming, are you?’

‘You could at least answer your phone so I know you’re okay.’

Shit.

Sparing no time explaining to the others, he grabbed his things and bolted out the door, nearly sprinting for the elevators.

He couldn’t believe how badly he’d fucked up, you must’ve been so upset with him. How would he even explain himself to you? Would you even talk to him when he got home? He wouldn’t blame you if the answer was no.

“Y/n?” He called as he opened the door but the house was silent, all the lights off, the stillness seeming to loom over him as he kicked off his shoes.

Tip-toeing through the house, he caught sight of the bouquet of flowers the guys had sent you sitting proudly in the center of the dining table, their cheery brightness almost mocking him now.

As he neared your shared bedroom, he caught sight of a sliver of light slipping out into the hall from the crack in the door.

Peeking in, he found you curled up on your side of the bed, sound asleep, but he could tell by the puffiness around your eyes that you’d been crying, shattering his heart completely.

He slowly sank down on the bed next to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He choked, tears blurring your image in front of him. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, how could he have forgotten something like this?! He had promised you!

He’d always tried so hard to live up to his commitments and responsibilities in your relationship, no matter how small, but in the moment when it mattered the most, he’d failed you.

“Jinnie?” Your cracked, sleep laden voice snapped his attention back up to you, meeting your tired eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He said, crying in earnest now.

“ ‘s okay.” You said drowsily, too tired to fight with him.

“It’s not. I made you a promise, and I fucked up.” He said, wiping his face.

You didn’t speak, sitting up slowly and pulling him into a hug. As upset as you might’ve been, you couldn’t stand to see him cry.

You wouldn’t lie, you were deeply hurt, but it wasn’t just for you. You’d seen how hard he’d been working lately, coming home late sore and exhausted, bags under his eyes from fatigue. You hated seeing him so tired all the time, so stressed and not able to do anything about it. You knew that under normal circumstances, he would’ve never forgotten, but your lives weren’t normal.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He cried into your neck. “I’ll find a way.”

“Jinnie, I don’t care about the dinner,” You said, trying not to start crying again yourself as you pulled back to look at him. “All I really wanted was to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Just come hold me, please.” You half dragged him under the covers with you, winding your limbs around each other tightly.

Neither of you spoke much as you slowly drifted off to sleep, clinging to each other desperately, needing to feel each other to be sure you were both still there.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you found his side of the bed empty.

Sitting up slowly, you glanced around, questions only just beginning to form in your mind before you heard a faint noise from somewhere in the house, the scent of one of your favorite dishes drifting through the open bedroom door.

Still groggy, you climbed out of bed and followed the smell to your kitchen, where you found your missing boyfriend, his back to you as he stood over the stove, fussing at something he was stirring.

“Why are you so salty? I didn’t even add that much.”

“Maybe it’s just in a bad mood.”

He turned at the sound of your voice, eyes softening as they found you in the doorway, messy hair and sleep clouded eyes, wearing one of his pajama tops as a sleepshirt.

“I thought you were still asleep.” He said softly.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Fulfilling my promise to you.” He said, turning back to the stove for a moment as he spoke. “It’s not quite all of your favorites, but it’s a start. Plus, we’ve got the whole day to do whatever else you want to do.”

“I have work.” You said, not unkindly.

“No, you don’t.” He responded. “I left them a message saying you were sick and couldn’t come in today.”

“Sick with what?” You asked.

“Bad boyfriend-itis,” He said, coming over to hook his arms round your waist. “It’s a very serious condition, it requires a lot of rest and care to recover from.”

“You’re not a bad boyfriend.” You said quietly, fiddling with his shirt collar.

“I’m not so sure about that.” He said, frowning.

“Well, I am.” You pushed up on your toes to press your lips to his softly, making him melt instantly. You let your hands slowly trail up and around his neck, earning a slight shiver from him before you pulled away to look at him. “What about rehearsals?”

“I told them the same thing as your work.” He said with a slightly dazed grin.

“You have boyfriend-itis too?” You raised a brow at him questioningly.

“Are you kidding? I’m patient zero.” He replied, earning a giggle from you, making his heart swell as he smiled down at you.

“Go back to bed,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“I don’t wanna go back to bed.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at him seriously. “I told you last night, I just want to be with you.”

“Alright then.” He hooked his hands under your thighs, boosting you up to sit on the counter with a surprised squeak from you. “You can sit here and be my lovely assistant.”

“I don’t even know what you’re making.” You giggled again.

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead and make yummy noises when I show you something.”

The two of you talked as he continued cooking, stopping each time he passed by you to leave a kiss on your waiting lips. Once everything was ready, you moved to the table, sitting close enough that you could reach over and grab his hand as he settled next to you.

He glanced up at you. “What is it?”

“Just thank you.” You said.

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“Being you. Being here.”

Jin felt the familiar twisting in his chest as he leaned over to press another kiss to your lips.

“Always.” He promised.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again, he swore to himself, he would be there for you, no matter what else was going on. You were his world, his heart, and he would make sure you knew that from now on.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[oliviaischillin1204]

hands on experience (tickletober day 3- "prank")

word count: 1,221 words

this was intended as a seasonal fic (you'll see what i mean lol) but i'm glad i got to finish it!

Roman rose up without any warning. "I'm in trouble!"

The other sides all looked at him. He seemed deceptively happy about what he just said.

Logan, after a beat, slowly closed his book. "Alright. Let's hear it."

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Patton asked, moving towards him.

"It's a prank," Virgil chimed in. He hadn't moved from his position on the stairs, eyeing Roman with a distinct suspicion. "It's April Fools' day, remember?"

"Correct on both accounts, my fine fearful friend!" Roman said. "It is April Fools' Day, and I am in the middle of a prank-- but not on anyone in this room!"

The other sides looked at each other before Patton asked a wary, "Who... is the prank for, Roman?"

The prince opened his mouth, but no words came out as another side appeared in the room.

"Ah," Roman said instead, eyes sparkling, "good morrow, Janus! To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Janus, for all intents and purposes, seemed almost surprised to see the other sides as they were to see him. His eyes flicked around the room somewhat frantically.

"Oh, goody," he hissed, "more people. Exactly what I wanted, Roman, thank you."

"Janus?" Patton asked. "What's up, kiddo?"

Clearing his throat, Janus tried to straighten up, but there was something off about the way he was holding his hands clutched against his chest. He breathed deeply, then winced, like even that was too much movement.

"Our... lovely Roman," he gritted out, "decided it would be oh so funny to... alter... my gloves, for this ridiculous 'holiday'."

"You don't like April Fool's Day, Janus?" Logan asked.

"Not when the joke's on him," Virgil replied. His lips were beginning to quirk up. "I don't know what Princey did, but if you hate it, I love it."

Patton made a wounded noise. "Wh- no, guys! If Janus doesn't like being pranked, he shouldn't have to be!"

"Kinda think you don't really understand pranks, Pat," Virgil said. "You're not meant to ask for permission before you do it."

Janus shot him an icy look. "Well in that case, I'm sure you won't mind it the next time Roman decide to enchant your clothes to--"

He froze, the human side of his face going darker.

"Roman." Logan said. "Do I even need to ask if that's true, or should we just skip to you telling us what you did to Janus' gloves."

"Nothing permanent, nothing scarring, and nothing you wouldn't approve of, Teach." Roman smirked at Janus, who looked like he was trying to murder Roman with his eyes. "Why don't you tell them, Janus?"

"You--"

And then Roman snapped, and Janus screamed.

"No!" He gasped, clawing at his gloves. "Enough! E-nough-- nahahahahaha!"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Ah. I see. I do approve."

"Fuck off," Janus spat, but the impact was greatly lessened by the desperate giggles falling from his mouth. He moved like he couldn't control his body, his torso desperately wiggling back and forth and his knees buckling. Through peals of laughter he tugged desperately at the edges, but whatever magic Roman had done clearly meant those gloves would only come off when he was ready.

"Oh, my gosh," Patton whispered, enraptured. "You gave him tickle gloves!"

"Lined with a thousand invisible feathers, all programmed to move according to body heat and hand movement," Roman said proudly. He shot Janus a sidelong look, grin widening. "Or when I tell them to, of course."

"A breheheheak!" Janus squealed, stamping his feet on the ground. "Plehehehease!"

"No, hang on, Roman, I don't think I get it," Virgil said gleefully. "Why don't you explain it to me again? Much slower this time, please."

"Why certainly, Virgil! You see--"

Janus kicked Roman in the shin.

"Fuck!"

"A break you bitch!" he shrieked.

"Come on, Ro, let him breathe," Patton said, although he was clearly enjoying the show as much as any of them. Roman hemmed and hawed, but acquiesced, snapping his fingers again.

Immediately Janus clutched his hands to his chest again. "You bitch."

"You said that already." Roman clearly wasn't offended, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Now, they've heard my side, Janus-- how do you feel about the gift I got for you?"

Indignation flicked across Janus' face. "Oh, yes, what a marvelous gift, transforming one of my favorite accessories into a-- a death trap."

"Inaccurate," Logan supplied helpfully. "We can't die."

"Y--" Janus sighed. "Thank you, Logan."

"You know, I'm a little bit surprised," Patton said. "I never really thought about hands being very ticklish before."

"Oh, Patton, you've been missing out," Virgil said. "Janus' hands are super ticklish. Especially the backs, it makes him fucking nuts."

Roman nodded. "I believe he once described the sensation to me as 'electric tingles from his nails to his elbows'. It sounded absolutely delightful, frankly, so I thought I'd give him a little gift!"

Janus clicked his tongue but made no further comment; he couldn't-- even when he kept as still as possible, the gloves still radiated a buzzy ticklish energy that ran across the thin skin of his hands and set his nerves alight. It took all of his energy to not laugh again, settling for taking shaky breaths and shifting back and forth on his feet.

"You've made your point," he hissed to Roman. "Change them back now, please."

He didn't have to argue anymore: Roman snapped again, but as Janus flinched again in anticipation of the oncoming tickles, he was instead faced with the tingles ceasing entirely. He blinked, and Roman shrugged.

"You said please," he said pleasantly.

"... I said please earlier," Janus grumbled, face flushed. Belatedly he yanked off his gloves, shaking out his hands and rubbing them together to dispel the leftover tickles.

"Oh, here, let me--" Patton reached out a hand, but Janus shrank away, hissing furiously.

"Woah!" He put his hands up placatingly. "I was just gonna hold your gloves for you, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you!"

"No, you--" Janus started, then stopped. He looked around the group. "Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Oh, shit, you're jumpy," Virgil laughed. "We're not gonna do it again, dude. You can chill."

"Indeed," Logan said. "The prank was amusing, but you wanted it to stop, so it did."

Janus felt wrong footed. "Of course. I knew that. Obviously."

"Wow, that was really clever, Roman," Patton said. "Oh! Can you do a prank on me next? But don't tell me what it is! Just tell me when it's about to happen and what I should do to make it work."

"You got it, Padre." Roman winked, and one by one all the Sides sank down until it was just him and Janus. The latter was staring at the wall, pretending he couldn't feel Roman's pointed stare.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Roman smirked. Wordlessly he held out his hand, and after a few long beats, Janus shot a hand out and place it in his palm.

"That's what I thought," Roman replied smugly. God, he was a bastard. Janus should tell him that. Except it was kind of hard to talk now that Roman's fingers were scratching gently along the back of his hand, what with the giggles freely falling from his lips again.

"If you wanted a more hands-on experience, Janus, all you had to do was ask."

[ghouldtime]

I just followed you based solely on an ask you responded to because I very much vibe with a Ghost who walked into a craft store for paint and came out with two new hobbies.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

I'm a proud 'Simon "Ghost" Riley is just A Dude ©' Truther

I love seeing that where he is just living a nice domestic life. I usually write spooky AU's or things with the paranormal but he's always just a dude there too, I like keeping him like that!!

To me, I can never look at him flat on and agree with the version of Ghost that people usually write (no shame to those who do, keep doing whatever makes you happy - it's not personal it's just not my taste) where they make him this ultra edgelord dommy sigma guy where he's always somehow towering over EVERYONE, growls every word, and is just???? That version viscerally reminds me of my early wattpad days or those rlly weird thirst trap biketoks

Like, have you LISTENED when this man speaks? Have you heard his jokes? His sense of humor that he doesn't hide??? Give me the dad jokes, give me the terrible puns that would make you give him a significant side eye if you heard them as his shoulders shake with the laughter he's trying to hold back !!!

Soap implied he made his masks and he probably would have to to make sure that hey, this isn't something flammable. I don't think he'd just buy something that personal to him. Which means he would have to sit down and pull out the paint kit, pull out the Dremel, and get to work

THAT MEANS he has to go buy the art supplies. He has to go shop for them and browse the aisles of paint, holding up two of the bottles, determining if he would rather have Eggshell white or Ivory. And I'm convinced that yes, he knows there's a difference and he'll insist on it and NO it's not the same shade

He sews, he has to. He HAD to have made his mask. Sewing is also a super practical skill when you're out on the field and it helps improve dexterity and coordination so I'm going to say it's likely he does. Sewing is super cool y'all.

So I implore you to imagine him in the fabric store, trying not to get distracted by the seasonal prints or the really ornate shimmery fabrics that you can't help but to look at. I refuse to accept that he hasn't sewn pillows in his house just because he liked a certain fabric and wanted to use it

And I'm going to say he's made a god awful holiday themed mask. It's simultaneously the most ugly thing you've ever set eyes upon and the greatest thing ever too. He's committed to the bit

He's also picked up embroidery because, like sewing, it helps improve your dexterity and keeps your hands busy. It's also practical because how else can people steal your things or confuse them if there's a tiny ghost embroidered on the hem????

He's just a guy and I love imagining Ghost with actual domestic hobbies, being himself, living his life (falling into the trap we all do at some point of going into an art store and finding something interesting to do)

Just A Dude© Ghost is my favorite and I'll never let him go

[giveafike]

TLDR: Halloween with your boyfriend, Ben!

Word count + info: 4.8k. Dialogue (conversation and azzie commentary throughout).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW but also...lwky PG 13. Suggestive themes, but nothing too NSFW. Mention of a burn injury and gagging in between (in a SFW way) so if that's something to put you off, read cautiously!

Azzie Notes ✚: YAYY halloween post! I couldn't pick what kind of blurb to write so...I wrote a bunch of mini ones! I tried something new, idk if I fw this format or not, you guys lmk honestly how you feel about bulleted posts.

ALSO! Stay safe tonight guys! Idk about you guys but where I'm from, Halloween can get a bit crazy or out of control, so whatever you do tonight, be responsible and sensible for this weekend! And happy Diwali to anyone celebrating - diye jalein aur mithaiyan chalen 🤭 bas khushiyaan hi khushiyaan ho (someone send me ukadiche modak PUHLEASE) 🤍🪔

I'm literally writing this part on the train home from work lmao, I'm gonna get on my laptop and get the big story up too, idk why it didn't upload yday but it's not here in my drafts or scheduled anymore! I'll figure it out tho dw.

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike)

————————————————————————

Halloween'ing - B.T.S.

It must've been the very first time Ben was home for a holiday that wasn't Christmas or New Year's and God, were you excited.

Sure, losing in Paris sucked but the amount of time you could spend and things you could do together was exhilarating. You were practically buzzing off of the walls with ideas.

Halloween wasn't something you had given much care or notice to since your childhood, but now there was a whole new rush of activities and warmth surrounding the beautiful season, something you welcomed warmly.

how many homemade treats you could make, pumpkin carving with Ben, maybe even dress up together as a couple...

Ben was more eager about the idea of candy (and you in a sexy Halloween costume)

You could drone on and on about how good those Trader Joe Pumpkin Spice cookies were, you never expected yourself to fall for the Pumpkin Spice craze but here you were, talking Ben's ear off.

He rolled his eyes pretending to be nonchalant

even though he'd be reaching for another cookie within a few minutes.

"Just need to check they're not poisoned...are these laced with sumn'?"

A couple of days later, when you and Ben got back from the pumpkin patch, you laid out your carving kit on the island, practically jumping to get stuck in.

Was far from picture-perfect though.

Ben's kryptonite was the damn pumpkin from the get-go.

His shoulders are up to his ears as he leans over his pumpkin, cautiously poking at the hollowed-out insides with a look of pure dread.

You’ve literally provided him with every scooper and tool imaginable, trying to make this as clean as possible, but he’s still staring into the pumpkin like it’s some kind of orange horror show.

He holds his breath, then takes a tentative scoop, immediately gagging at the smell.

“Oh my god…babe, it’s like-” he shudders, hand over his nose, “like mouldy socks and old food had a baby.”

His face scrunches up as he recoils, practically jumping back. “Nah, no way.”

The sight is so absurd you burst into laughter, doubling over as he waves his hands like he’s trying to shake off the memory. "It’s not that bad! See!” you say, holding up a slimy handful of seeds with a wicked grin.

He gags, shuddering and shuts his eyes.

You’re insane if you think this is normal. This pumpkin needs, like, a hazmat suit or something.”

He flinches again, rubbing his nose like he can’t get the smell out of it, even though he hasn’t touched it with his bare hands yet.

He's deadass wearing medical gloves for this.

“Ben,” you gasp between laughs, wiping a tear from your eye. “It’s just a pumpkin. You’re acting like it’s a dead possum or something!”

“Smells like one,” he mutters darkly, gingerly pushing the spoon back toward the orange insides, his hand shaking just enough to make you lose it all over again.

Took maybe like, an hour and a half for him to de-gut the pumpkin

each attempt is met with a new level of melodrama, and by the fourth scoop, you’re clutching your sides, actually having to pause because you can barely breathe from laughing so hard.

He manages to carve out some semblance of a face, albeit a lopsided one with stupid teeth and tiny eyes that look more befuddled than scary.

“See? Told you I could do it,” he says, though his voice is shaky as if he’s barely recovered from a traumatising experience.

Such a diva, oh my god bruh.

You take one look at the pumpkin’s wonky, wide-eyed expression and nearly snort.

It's giving that "dumb ahh pumpkin" TikTok trend.

It’s actually the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen.

“Ben, it’s adorable.”

“S’posed to be scary…”

You glance over at him, lips twitching as you pull out your phone, quietly queuing up that TikTok audio. You hold in your laughter as you film the pumpkin with the distorted “pumpkin!” sound blaring, then pan the camera up to Ben.

The look of stunned betrayal on his face as he realises what you’ve done is absolutely priceless, his jaw dropping before he tries to reach for the phone.

The video catches his reaction in perfect two-second glory, and you both watch it back, his stunned face paired with the ridiculous audio, unable to stop laughing.

As you clean up, (Ben finally taking off his surgical blue gloves and scrubbing his hands away like a surgeon) you set the pumpkins outside and place the tealight candles inside, smiling at your actually scary pumpkin and...

that dumb pumpkin Ben made.

It's cute though, side by side, in its own way.

But you can't spend forever admiring them, it's time to make the snacks for your movie marathon tonight!

It was Ben's idea, he had a list of candy to buy and was on popcorn duty but the real star of the show was gonna be the Halloween classic; candy apples.

You both set up in the kitchen, bowls and ingredients spread out, ready to take on the challenge together.

Ben eyes the setup, grinning and rolling up his sleeves like he’s ready to make a masterpiece, even if you’re still suspicious of his pumpkin-carving skills.

The air is still sweet from the pumpkin guts, but with the sugar and cinnamon in the mix now, the atmosphere feels a bit warmer and cozier.

"Just you watch,” he says, giving you a confident wink. “I can make these apples look better than anything you’d find at a fair.”

It's adorable seeing Ben so confident and yet so easy by your side, almost competitive in his ways but not actually challenging or pushing you.

As you dip the apples one by one into the pot of Ben's hot sugar syrup, the colours come out glossy and bright red.

He might be onto something, these are looking pretty good!

As you both move onto the 4th one, you hear a small sizzle, then a loud, sharp hiss.

“Oh—ow, ow! Damn, that’s hot as fuck!”

You grab his hand immediately, your fingers gently running over the reddening spot on his palm.

“Ben! I told you to be careful! Sugar burns like crazy.”

“I knowwwww, I know,” he whines, wincing.

You lead him over to the sink and run cool water over his hand. You can’t help but smile softly as you fuss over him, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles while the cold water soothes his burn, holding his fingers in your hand as you focus on the pained spot.

“You’re such a disaster in the kitchen, you know that?”

“Hey, I was just…testing the temperature, tha's all.”

You roll your eyes and wrap his hand in a small ice pack for a bit, lingering there in the quiet, the coolness of the ice melting away any sting, until his hand feels better and you’re ready to tackle the apples again.

But no sooner than you start, he picks one up-

idiot

eyeing it as if he’s about to bite down without a second thought.

“BEN, ITS STILL SCALDING PUT IT DOW-”

You grab his wrist moving the semi-hardened apple away before he injures himself more.

"Just testin' your reflexes" he mumbles, laughing a bit.

"Sure."

Ben stepped out to light your pumpkins on the porch doorstep as the sun set, smiling and taking a quick photo, admiring the silly tradition spent together.

The house filled with the scent of caramel, you and Ben settle under a pile of blankets over you both, a bowl of popcorn wedged between your legs, and an assortment of snacks within easy reach for a spooky movie marathon.

He went out for a bit to "go grab something"

only to come back with some stupid clown mask, hiding behind the sofa to startle you.

After you screamed and he apologised with kisses and cuddles (after minutes of laughing and mocking you), you dimmed the lights and settled in, starting with a classic slasher that sets the spooky mood right from the start.

It doesn’t take long for the jump scares to start, and though you brace yourself, there’s one moment that catches you off guard, making you gasp and clutch his arm tightly. Ben laughs, his hand sliding around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Spooked already?”

“No! Not scared, just…caught off guard.”

Ben nestles his head against yours, finding himself kissing the top of your head, his arm around you as he rubs soothing circles on your arm.

He's doing all that to distract himself from the jumpscares btw.

Bc he's getting just as startled as you, if not more.

He completely zones out while watching and the jumpscares jolt through him, snapping him back to the movie plot, which then scares him even more - like, wdym there's a killer on the loose and he's literally right beside the main character?!?

But comforting you, in its odd way makes him feel comforted and safe too.

He can't help but find himself enthralled in all the silly traditions and festivities around Halloween just because it's by your side.

As the next one rolls in, he glances down at you and peppers kisses along your hairline, his lips warm and gentle.

Though you’re locked in and wrapped up in the tension of the movie, you feel safe and completely at ease in his arms.

Doesn't last long though.

As the hours creep into the deep of night it seems like the movies get spookier, creepier, and more disturbing, and his thumb rubs soft circles on your shoulder whenever a scene begins, almost instinctively comforting you as he whispers soft reassurances.

You can't even listen to what he's saying, your clammy hands gripping his arm as you squeal, failing to tear your eyes away.

"Oh my god, Be- BEN!! OH MY GOD!"

He just covers your eyes with his hand

"Ben, I can't see"

"Good, it's awful, don't watch this scene"

He feels super cool and smart for pulling that move out btw. “Just another day of protecting my girl”

By the time the credits roll on the last film, you’re tucked against him, drowsy, exhausted and a sugar crash hitting you as the remains of the candied apples and popcorn are strewn over the table.

He glances down, his fingers brushing your cheek, and tilts your chin up for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Still scared?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Maybe a little,"

“Good,” he murmurs, his smile warm. “Means I get to hold you all night."

What an opportunist.

It's the night before Halloween before you know it, the excitement of pumpkin carving, candied apples, and scary movies behind you.

Ben suggests a late-night drive!

"Let's see the decorations, it's a trip down my memory lane"

He's got that :D face going on, how could you even resist?

The air is cool and crisp as you both pile into his car, wrapped in hoodies and each other’s warmth.

Ben reaches over, like he always does, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulls out of the driveway, his thumb brushing soft, slow circles over your hand.

The neighbourhood is dressed for the season, with yards filled with skeletons, giant spiders, and strings of orange and purple lights that flicker in the dark.

Some houses go all out, with life-size ghost projections, speakers, massive jumpscare decorations and fog machines casting an eerie glow across the lawns, while others keep it simple with a row of glowing pumpkins along the steps.

It’s like Halloween magic has taken over, and the streets are a soft blend of shadows and a warm, festive glow amidst the golden leaves scattered all over.

“See that one? That’s where the Johnsons live. They’ve been doin’ that witch since I was like, I dunno, 10? Never changes. Every year, same decorations.”

Ben points out more houses, telling you which ones hand out full-size candy bars, which houses skimped out and which ones used to scare him when he and Emma were kids.

“You’d be one of those kids who scoped out the best houses before Halloween, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely. Me, Emma and my buddies’d race for the full-sized bars, but if we made it to Mr. O’Malley’s house last? He’d run outta candy and give us IOU's for his store instead. That was the jackpot right there,” He laughs, squeezing your hand as he reminisces.

You nod, listening as he goes on, getting lost in the stories, the way his eyes sparkle a bit more with each memory. He talks about the high school haunted houses, how his friends would sneak around, trying to out-scare the actors, and the endless piles of candy that took him weeks to finish.

How Emma wouldn't let him tag along with her and her friends because he was embarrassing her.

His voice softens as he describes the little thrills and mischievous moments, almost as if Halloween itself has this permanent spot in his heart.

He drives slower, letting the headlights illuminate the way as you soak in the charm of it all and the softness of being alone together.

You rest your head against the window, his hand warm in yours, the night stretching on in the glow of the lights and the quiet roads.

“Hard to believe I get to spend it with the love of my life this year,” he says after a while, glancing over with a soft smile, his voice is barely above a whisper.

It's almost like he was saying it to himself, more than to you.

You kiss the back of his hand, holding it there, feeling the warmth of the moment entirely.

As you drive past another house, one with an elaborate ghost setup and an old-fashioned lamp swinging like a haunted porch light, he points, chuckling. “Man, they’d have the best haunted houses. I’d be scared stiff. Now? Not so much.”

"Uh-huh, sure, Ben. I reckon you'd still get scared."

"We can pretend like I’m the brave one.”

“Oh, so you’re brave now?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Only when you’re here,” he says, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles.

"So cheesy, Shelton"

"And you eat it up every time" he quips back, smiling.

The drive back is peaceful, almost like you’re kids again, wrapped in an innocent kind of wonder and admiration that the holiday brings.

When he finally pulls into his driveway, he parks but doesn’t make a move to get out.

Instead, he rests his head on the seat, just watching you, studying you.

The moonlight catches in his eyes, and he gives you that sweet, sleepy look that’s filled with all the warmth and happiness you could ask for, both of you bathed in the moonlight together.

The next day is Halloween, and no surprise, Ben forgot to mention something:

there's a party...

and he said you're going....

"Ben, what the FUCK are we gonna wear? I don't even have anything remotely close to a costume and-"

"Victoria's Secret model?"

He gets a punch to the arm for that quip. He had that ready and blurted it out wayyyy too quickly.

Once again, he's an opportunist!

Can't fault him! Don't hate the player, hate the game or whatever those finance bros say.

You both end up going to a costume warehouse, which, to no surprise (except Ben's), is practically ransacked and has just a small selection left.

"Wow! These racks and shelves are almost empty!"

"Yeah Ben, it's quite literally Halloween day..."

"Oh, yeah..."

"yep."

By the time you make your way to the ladies' section, Ben’s excitement is borderline overwhelming.

He's tossing costumes in your direction, with each pick, his grin only grows, that voice of his thickening with each comment.

Bet you can't guess what kind of costumes he's looking at!

“Alright, babe, here’s what I’m thinkin’.”

He hands you a bag with a red devil outfit...

...which is basically a glorified bodysuit.

“This, or-wait, wait, wait…”

He reaches back and pulls out a barely-there nurse outfit.

“Maybe this? C’mon, tell me you wouldn’t look hot as hell in it.”

"Oh my god, Catwoman?! Baby...Catwoman! You'd look so fuckin' good as...wait what's this one? Oh! Or, how about a cop? It comes with handcuffs!!!"

He's practically blushing with several skimpy costumes in his arms, a gummy smile wide, and eyes massive like a teenager looking at a Playboy magazine for the first time.

“I was actually thinking… Fiona, from Shrek. The green body paint, prosthetic nose and all.”

His face falls in sheer horror.

He just stands there, slackjawed, like you’ve crushed his biggest dreams.

“Fiona…as in an ogre? He says the word like it’s filthy like he’s never even wanted to say it out loud.

“Yep! I could even add some fake dirt on my body, really make it realistic…”

Ben’s just staring at you, his face still frozen in disbelief. “Naw…nah, you didn’t just say that.”

He waves a hand up and down in front of you like he’s trying to wipe the thought from his mind.

“Babe, we’re supposed to look good, not…swampy.”

With a grin, you roll your eyes and you eventually head toward the dressing room, pulling on the first costume in his pile that he gave you to throw on.

Of course, it's a flirty Snow White costume; a corset with puff sleeves and tiny skirt, knee-high socks and a headband. When you step out, Ben’s mouth drops again, but this time with a grin that spreads across his face.

“See now that is what I’m talkin’ about,” he drawls, sliding a hand around your waist, fingers tracing the fabric. “Got me forgettin’ my own name…”

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. “Ben, it’s just Snow White!”

“Just Snow White?” he repeats, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m thinkin’ you’re the finest Snow White.” His fingers drift just a bit too low, making you laugh as you smack his hand away again.

Back in the dressing room, you slip into the next one, a green Tinkerbell dress that’s even shorter and lined with sparkles.

You don’t even have to walk out fully before Ben’s already there, grinning like he’s been waiting for hours.

“Look at you, my lil’ pixie…” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close, lips brushing your ear. “Darlin’, I don’t think I’m gonna let you wear this one outta my sight.”

“Are you even paying attention to the costumes or are you just looking for excuses?” you tease.

You're trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his eyes practically undress you on the spot.

“Alright, alright.” He laughs, backing off as you return to the dressing room one more time to pull on the cop outfit.

His eyes roam over every inch, pausing at the handcuffs dangling from your fingers and the baton tucked into your belt, wrapped around your hips.

“Oh, hell yeah,” he mutters, his gaze darkening. He steps up, his hands back on your waist, fingers digging in a little tighter.

“You’re arrestin’ me, right? Pleaseeee say you’re here to arrest me.”

“You need to behave if we're gonna get out of this store with a costume for us,” you say, laughing as he tugs you closer, his eyes glued to the baton you’re tapping on his shoulder.

“Not a chance, babe.” He grins, leaning in. “Now, why don’t I go grab that badge of yours so I can behave just a lil worse…”

You shove him off with a scoff and an eye roll but that smile on your face deceived your annoyed expression.

You had a little plan schemed, all look you’d picked, your surprise masterpiece:

a head-to-toe roach costume with long, wiry legs, little antennae, and bug eyes on top.

You wriggle into the thick styrofoam costume, taking a deep breath before stepping out in all your creepy-crawly glory.

“Benny?” you call in a sing song voice, trying to keep a straight face. “Got the perfect costume.”

He turns, expecting another flirty outfit, and instead just stands there, blinking.

He’s completely silent.

A whole ten seconds pass before he finally clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“…Nah, babe,” he says, voice almost pitying. “Nah, this…this just ain’t right. Not right at all.”

You hold up your arms and wiggle the little roach legs at him, the same way you wiggled in the Snow White costume.

“What, it’s not cute?”

“I- baby, look- you know I love you…” he starts, trying and failing to keep from laughing as he waves at you. “But I just can’t- I can’t even look at you right now. That’s straight-up trauma in a costume.” He finally lets out a snort, covering his face with his hands.

Finally, after giving him a good laugh, you change into the last one, the one you’ve both been waiting for.

It’s an angel costume with a touch of elegance: a top made of shimmering gold metal feathers that shine under the store lights, a golden headpiece that makes you look almost ethereal, and long, graceful wings. The skirt flares out in layers of white and gold, making you look like you’ve stepped straight out of a dream.

When you step out, Ben’s quiet, the devilish grin on his face replaced by something a little softer, his breath hitching a bit, his gaze a little more serious as he takes you in.

“Now this,” he says, moving closer, reaching for your hand. “This is somethin’ else, darlin’. You look exactly what you are, an angel.”

“Good enough for Halloween?” you ask, giving a little twirl as the golden wings glint in the light.

“Oh, way better.” He nods, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Cause I’ll be right there as your devil.”

He hands you the bag for his costume, a black shirt, unbuttoned pretty low, black pants, and, of course, dark wings and horns.

“We’re gonna make one hell of a pair.” His gaze drifts over you again, taking in every detail.

“Angel like you with a devil like me might just be our best look yet.”

From the look in his eyes, you know this Halloween party is going to be a night to remember.

He paid for the costumes of course, btw.

Only after making a million innuendos about you being an angel.

"Y'know I thought angels were pure, you can get pretty nasty when you-"

"Shut it."

"Yes, m'darlin' ".

As you approach the house party, the bass thumps in your chest, seeing all sorts of costumes around you, some faces familiar to Ben, childhood friends and college peers alike.

After a few shots, a couple of drinking games and slurred conversations, you and Ben melt into each other in the cramped living room, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, fingers dipping dangerously low.

His other hand slips along the curve of your hip, thumb grazing your bare skin, sending a thrill up your spine.

The dim lights reflect off your golden feathers, casting a halo around you, but Ben’s dark eyes are glued to yours, unrepentant, that devilish grin driving you insane.

How in character!

His lips brush your ear, his breath warm and his words slurred and heavy with a bit too much vodka.

“You’re… somethin' else tonight, y’know that?” he murmurs, words melting into the bass line, his drawl thicker, slow and dragging as he pulls you even closer.

“Got every guy in here starin' at my angel…”

You laugh, tipsy, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure they’re all lookin’ at you, devil boy.”

He just smiles, his hands sliding lower, pressing you tight against him as he lets out a low laugh. “Naw, they’re jealous,” he mumbles, lips grazing your neck as he speaks. “Cause I’m the only one you’re gettin’ all worked up over…”

You feel the heat rising between you two, the music, the drinks, the dim lights casting everything in a hazy blur.

He pulls you in, tilting your face up, his lips finding yours, messy and rough as if he’s been waiting all night to feel your mouth on his.

His hand cradles your face, fingers slipping into your hair, holding your jaw, tugging you close as he kisses you like he’s been starving for it.

He tastes like dark liquor and something a little sweeter, and when you pull away, you can’t tell if it’s his lips that are wet or yours.

He’s breathing heavily, eyes locked on you, that stupid, sinful grin spreading wider.

“Wanna get outta here?” he whispers, voice barely louder than the music.

You don’t even hesitate, nodding as he takes your hand and tugs you through the crowd, your pulse racing.

His grip is tight, his eyes glinting with that familiar, heated look, and you can’t help but laugh as he leads you out of the house and into the warm Floridian night.

You barely make it to outside, stumbling onto the lawn, before his hands are on you again, pressing you against the trunk of a tree, his mouth crashing into yours. You moan into him, hands running over his chest, feeling the heat radiating off him even through his shirt.

“Oh, Ben…” you breathe, leaning back as he drags his mouth along your neck, nipping and teasing, his laughter low and husky against your skin.

“God, you’re perfect,” he slurs, mouth brushing up the line of your jaw as his hand slides around your waist.

You’re ready for him to take you right then and there, leaves crunching underfoot, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging it open just a little further when-

“Wait, wait, wait,” he mutters, pulling back suddenly.

His eyes are wide and hazy, his head perks up as he looks over his shoulder for a moment and blinks, his mouth twisting into a grin as he takes your hand again.

“Hold up. Got an even better idea.”

You blink, trying to catch your breath, utterly dazed. “Wha-…what are you talking about?”

He’s already leading you down the sidewalk, back towards the rows of decorated houses, each porch lit up with Halloween lights and pumpkins.

You stop dead in your tracks, your lips still swollen from his kisses, realising he’s actually serious.

“Ben, you’re not-no way, no shot.” You laugh, almost disbelieving as he walks up the first driveway, holding your hand and looking back with that same goofy smile.

No way.

“Trick or treatin'!” he says, completely earnest, already reaching for the doorbell.

He's looking at you all innocent, like he wasn't being handsy with you just 2 minutes ago.

You stare at him, utterly floored. “Ben, you’re seriously…you’re just gonna go trick-or-treating? Right now? Like this?”

“Hell yeah!” he says, as if this is the most normal thing in the world, shrugging.

“I’m in costume, you’re in costume…what’s stoppin’ us?”

Before you can even answer, the door swings open, revealing an elderly woman with a massive bowl of candy. She takes one look at Ben in his black wings, the gold feathers shining around you, and lets out a cackle of laughter.

“Now, I didn’t expect trick-or-treaters this age tonight!” she says, eyes bright with amusement as she holds the candy out. “You two are just adorable. D'ya need a bag, hun?”

Ben grins, holding his hand out. “Thank you, ma’am. I mean…Halloween’s all about free candy, right?”

His boyish cheeky charm works like a treat, even on the old ones. smh.

With a warm chuckle, she drops a couple of candy bars into his hands before handing him a bag before she waves goodbye.

Ben shoves the candy in, already heading down to the next house, practically skipping with that same childish grin.

“C’mon, m'angel, let’s go score some more!”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you trail along beside him.

The night takes on a new light, the alcohol still buzzing through you both as you hit every house on the block, each one adding more candy to Ben’s rapidly filling bag.

He grabs an empty trick-or-treat bag left on a stoop, offering it to you with a dramatic flourish, and before long, you’re both stumbling from house to house, holding hands and giggling like you’re kids again.

Ben feeds you chocolate in between houses, his eyes soft and a little drowsy, that irresistible grin plastered on his face.

The two of you wander holding hands, his devil horns slightly askew, his shirt still messily half-buttoned as you both talk in low, slurred voices.

Somewhere along the way, you both end up sitting on the curb since your feet hurt.

You both go digging through the bags like kids, surrounded by a mix of Reese’s, Milky Ways, and Twix bars.

“Still thinkin’ you’re too old for trick-or-treatin’?” he teases, popping a Snickers in his mouth.

“Fine,” you admit, laughing, leaning into his side. “Guess I can kinda see the appeal.”

He just grins, sliding his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as the streetlights flicker above you, pressing soft kisses to your hair.

In the quiet night, surrounded by candy wrappers and the warm glow of Halloween night, you’re perfectly happy, just you, your devil, and a bag full of treats.

There was nothing sweeter than spending Halloween with Ben <33