#hope you enjoy! this was my first thought so i went with this!

[harryspet]

buy me presents | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!mafia!rafe x spoiled!bratty!reader, ex-convict!rafe, rafe has a spoiling kink, topper thornton x reader, kidnapping/confinement, bondage, mentions of death/violence, toxic relationship, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: merry christmas eve! gif credit: @/janesarahspidey

In which Rafe is more dangerous than ever and he interrupts your honeymoon with your new husband.

word count: 6.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Somewhere like Greece seemed like a much better option for your honeymoon. Your husband, Topper, insisted that spending the end of year at a cozy, cabin in the mountains would be much more intimate.  Besides that, you’d gotten married so late into the year that a tropical honeymoon was probably out of the question. You bargained for a trip to Greece in the spring and decided not to pout. At least a cozy mountain trip meant cute two-piece lounge sets with fur-line boots and adorable ear muffs. 

That morning, he’d lugged all four of your suitcases into the back of his SUV, and you drove 4 hours from Figure 8 to the mountains. The car heater hummed softly as you stared out the window, the serenity of the trip barely masking your true feelings. You had the perfect winter wedding, a huge oval diamond on your ring, you’d snagged the most eligible bachelor in Kildare, and yet, you were still hoping for more. 

Topper was all smiles when you arrived, chivalrously carrying all your things inside. The “cabin” he picked was less than low-key, which impressed you, from the outside it was covered in snow but you could tell there were at least seven bedrooms. Shivering you followed him inside. The moment the door slammed shut behind you, the noise felt strangely final, like you were trapped in a cage of wood and snow. 

Your husband went to work on the fireplace, and still shivering, you wandered through the luxurious cabin’s living room. It was adorned with over-stuffed furniture, red-plaid blanket throws, deep leather couches, and velvet armchairs. A bear skin rug sat before the fireplace, a deer head placed ceremoniously over the mantle, “I was thinking we could decorate the place for Christmas. Make it real cozy. What do you think?”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips, “Yeah … where are we gonna get decorations?” You crossed your arms as you continued to shiver. Moving closer to him, you were hoping a spark would appear soon. 

Topper glanced over at you, his face lighting up with excitement. "I figured we could take a drive into town tomorrow, get a real tree, maybe a few things for the mantel. It'll be perfect. You know, all the little touches."

The fire crackled in front of you as Topper carefully stoked the flames, his focus on making sure it blazed high. His back was to you, his arms flexing as he worked, and for a moment, you found yourself staring at him. Topper was handsome, successful, and undoubtedly a good man. You let yourself feel grateful that he’d put so much thought into this trip.

Planning your dream wedding had completely consumed your thoughts this year, bringing you unimaginable anxiety. Every decision, every detail had been meticulously planned, from the dress to the flowers, the venue, and every single guest on the guest list. You’d sacrificed sleep, health, and sanity in pursuit of perfection. But now, the wedding was behind you, and the weight of it all seemed to evaporate in the crisp mountain air.

You decided that this was the time to finally let go of the constant pressure and to simply enjoy being married, “Sounds perfect,” You responded, and at the same time, you saw the first spark. Topper stoked the fire, letting it grow, and you finally felt the comforting heat, “The tree has to be at least nine feet, okay? With red and gold bulbs and big poinsettias. I want my sister to totally freak out when I send her photos.” You said it with a small smirk, imagining her wide-eyed reaction to the grandeur of it all. You were already picturing the perfect holiday setup, one that would leave no room for comparison.

“You got it,” He stood up from his place kneeling by the fireplace, dusting off his pants, and leaned in to kiss you softly. His voice was low, reassuring, and you picked out the way his eyes soften at the sight of you. Topper Thornton was madly in love with you, “What sounds good for dinner?”

“Steak?” You offered, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Outside, through tall glass windows, you watched snow fall down on the landscape. 

“Steak it is. I’m gonna make you an amazing dinner and then we’re going to have the coziest night in.” He leaned down to kiss you on your forehead and you watched as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“I will …unpack,” You declared, staring around the room, already envisioning where you would settle.

The master suite was tucked away on the upper floor, accessed by a grand staircase with a dark wood banister that creaked softly under your footsteps. The soft glow from the chandelier above cast a warm light over you. The stairs led to a long hallway that ended in double doors, adorned with heavy brass handles. 

At the center of the room stood a four-poster king-sized bed with a thick down comforter and piles of plush pillows, framed by an elegant dark wood bed frame. Across the room was yet another fireplace and you imagined a warm, cozy consummation of your marriage. You were no virgin, and Topper hadn’t proposed to you before sampling what he intended to lock down for the rest of his life, but you wanted it to be special. 

Your eyes wandered to the private balcony accessed through French doors offered views of the snow-covered expanse but was too cold to truly enjoy. Instead, you turned your attention to unpacking yours and Topper’s luggage, organizing your belongings in the spacious walk-in closet. The expansive vanity soon became a canvas for your collection of beauty trinkets and makeup, each item finding its place as you settled into your new surroundings.

You joined Topper for dinner, the mouth watering aroma already having reached you upstairs. Topper was good at being doting, remembering to pull out your chair for you, making sure your glass of red wine never fully emptied. Part of your heart fluttered, the other, more realistic half was skeptical. You couldn’t help but reflect on the endless conversations you’d had with your therapist. She’d pointed out time and time again that you struggled to let people fully in, even the ones who loved you.

This was the time, Y/N, to finally let someone in. What better person than the one you agreed to marry? 

Dinner was more than pleasant, and as the wine started to warm your cheeks, the conversation turned light. It was fun. Sometimes you forgot how much fun Topper could be. 

Topper’s voice was low and teasing, “If you could switch lives with anyone for a day, no strings attached, no responsibilities, no commitments, who would it be and why?”

You paused, the question hanging in the air for a moment. Topper leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying the challenge he’d just given you. You could tell he was genuinely curious, but also hoping to catch a glimpse of something unexpected, something about the woman he’d married that maybe even you hadn’t fully explored.

Your fingers played with the stem of your wine glass as you thought, the question pulling you into a brief moment of reflection.

“Hmmm…” you mused, your heartbeat picking up, though you kept your face neutral, “I think… I’d pick my oldest sister. She does everything right. She’s got it all together. At least, that’s what my Mom and Dad always say.”

“Really?” Topper smiled, taking a sip from his wine, “Your sister?”

“Yeah,” Maybe because you felt no judgement at all, you kept speaking, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t love my life now. But all I wanted when I was a teenager was to be the godliest woman, to get married young, and you know, do all the things a pastor’s daughter is supposed to do. And I watched all three of my sisters do it and…they’ve just never approved of my decisions.”

You were sitting across from the only decision your parent’s approved of but you weren’t always Topper Thornton’s wife. For years, they’d considered you “lost”. 

Topper gave you a soft smile. “I’m surprised but it’s kind of nice to … to know you more. I want to know your more, Y/N,” You understood what he meant. You did your best to come across only how you wanted others to perceive you, “You know, you’re exactly where you need to be, right here with me. And I’m sorry, but your parents are idiots.”

You nodded, laughing, before you down the rest of your wine, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Topper’s eyes widened, “Is it upstairs?”

You nodded, standing from the table. “Yes. I’m going to get ready. Toss these dishes in the sink, I’ll clean them tomorrow, and meet me upstairs in… five minutes, okay?”

“Can’t wait, Mrs. Thornton,” He winked and you scurried away from the table with a mischievous smile. 

It took you a lot longer than five minutes to get ready and you were lucky that Topper had known you well enough to give you more time. You chose an outfit you’d been waiting to pull out since the beginning of planning for your wedding. The nightgown was crafted from soft, white silky fabric, it’s neck plunged and the neckline was adorned by lace. The hem ended just before the middle of your thighs, teasing yet tasteful, and the robe that accompanied it was made from the same light, airy material. You tied the robe lazily in front, letting the fabric cascade over your body. 

You were applying lipgloss in the mirror when you heard the closing of a car door. You paused for a moment, wondering why he had gone out to the car. Deciding you were presentable enough, you left the room. At the top of the stairs, you heard the shuffling of feet and assumed Topper had made his way back inside. 

“Babe?” You inquired as you made your way down the stairs. Your stomach dropped the moment that your bare feet hit the bottom step. You gripped the stair railing as your eyes tried to make sense of the movement in the dimly lit downstairs. All you could really tell was that Topper was not alone and dark figures had crowded the living room. 

Then your heard a painful grunt and recognized the sound as belonging to Topper. Abort, abort, abort, the little voice in your head said. When you turned around, there was a dark figure standing at the top of the stairs now. You immediately recognized the cold, calculating look in his eyes. He was one of Rafe's men. You couldn’t remember his name, but the air around him was thick with malice. He didn’t need to say a word for you to understand his intent: you weren’t going anywhere.

A scream left your lips before you could cover your mouth with a shaky hand. “Stay still,” the man at the top of the stairs said in a low, gruff voice. His hand moved toward his waistband, and your stomach twisted as you feared the worst.

You moved forward despite his words. The shuffling from the living room intensified, followed by another grunt from Topper, which made your legs nearly buckle beneath you. You were so, so, so close to the door but a few steps in that direction made you realize there were two other men blocking that exit. You turned around slowly, following their line of the sight, and moved in the only direction there was. 

You padded closer to the living room, a crackling fire the only source of light in the room. Rafe Cameron stood, tall and commanding, gun pointed to your husband’s temple. He already owned every inch of the space. 

Topper’s eyes flicked toward you, panic and fear evident in them, but he didn’t speak, not while Rafe’s gun was so close to his head. His jaw clenched, and he shifted uncomfortably in place, his hands bound behind him. Two other dark figures stood nearby and you quickly processed that they were most likely the ones who overpowered your husband. 

Cold, calculating eyes locked on you. Oh god, you thought, you’d really done it now. 

It wasn’t love at first sight with Rafe Cameron. Not even close. But it was fire—raw, passionate, and all-consuming. You were at the end of your rebellious phase, days away from moving back home, and finally agreeing to go to that Christian college your parents always wanted you to go to.

It really started with a pair of diamond earrings. Not a conversation, not a connection, just a gesture that hit you like a freight train. 

He presented them after he’d given you three earth-shattering, bed-frame-slamming orgasms in a row, and you’d dozed off in his bedroom, tangled in the sheets, not caring that it was a late-night rendezvous that was never supposed to mean anything. The earrings were tucked inside a velvet box that seemed almost out of place with the raw, unrestrained chaos of the night.

“Are you paying me for sex? Like a hooker?”

“You’d think I’d buy diamond earrings for a hooker?” His voice was steady, as if he hadn’t just spent hours making your legs shake. “No, this is an investment. I want my future wife to know I can give her nice things.”

"Shut up," you muttered, not trying to keep the sting out of your voice. You weren’t his property. You weren’t someone’s investment.

Rafe only smirked, eyes predatory but amused. You accepted, of course, and you tried them on just minutes later. You’d never owned anything so … sparkly. They were the opposite of modest, the opposite of the world you were so close to entering again. 

There was no amusement in the look Rafe Cameron was giving you now, his black suit molding perfectly to his tall, muscular frame. “And here she is,” Rafe announced, a smile on his lips with absolutely know joy behind it, “The beautiful bride!” 

“Rafe …” You steadied your breathing as much as possible, “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t help but notice his hair—buzzed short, a sharp contrast to the way he used to wear it. It gave him a more rugged and dangerous look, one that matched the quiet menace he often carried in his demeanor.

“What does it look like? I came to congratulate you two.” 

“Put the gun away,” You stepped closer, arms wrapping around yourself, wanting to conceal your vulnerable form from the men in the room, “He didn’t do anything. You know he didn’t. I’m the one who–”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I did consider him a good friend of mine, you know? S’pose to look after my girl while I did my time. Guess you thought I was giving you permission to fuck her,” The barrel of the gun pressed harder into Topper’s temple and you cringed. His icy blue eyes pinned you in place as he scanned over you. You wanted to scream, to throw yourself at Rafe and tear the gun from his hand, but something in you knew that it wasn’t that simple. It never had been with Rafe.

“No, you don’t get to do this,” You declared, raising your voice as much as your body would let you, “You went away. I ended things. You don’t get to tear everything down just because you can’t let go.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you could see the nerve you’d struck written all over his face, “She’s not your girl anymore,” Topper spoke through gritted teeth, “You can’t–”

Rafe’s eyes flashed with a fury that turned his features hard and before you could take another breath, he moved with lightning speed, raising the gun in his hand. The crack of metal meeting flesh filled the room as Rafe pistol-whipped Topper across the face, sending him crumbling to the floor.

“Fuck!” You cursed, tears stinging your eyes. You fought the urge to keel over and release the contents of your stomach at the sight of the blood gushing from Topper’s face. A blind rage came over you as you started to struggle to breathe. 

“Neither of you get to tell me what the fuck to do,” Rafe’s eyes bore into you. 

You moved closer, wanting to check and at least make sure your husband was still breathing. Before you knew it, Rafe’s gun was pointing at you. 

“No, leave him. You. Sit,” He gestured the gun towards the leather couch. 

You hesitated and Rafe easily pointed the gun back at Topper. A threat. Shakily, you stepped away from Topper’s figure, and sat down on the living room couch. You tried to steady yourself, stop yourself from vibrating with anger, to calm your nerves so you could think rationally. 

Across the room, Rafe did the same, though his movements were more restless, more frantic. He paced back and forth, his boots thudding softly against the carpet. The gun never left his hand, his fingers curling tighter around it as he muttered under his breath, words too quiet to make out.

It was a scene you had witnessed before. Rafe trying to calm down after doing something reckless. Something violent. You wanted nice things, sure. But not like this. Not at the cost of your peace, your sanity. And certainly not at the cost of your safety.

The realization hit you then. The crazy that came with Rafe Cameron? You had never wanted it, not really. 

“What do you want from us?” You asked, lips trembling. 

“Nothing from him,” Rafe decided quickly, “From you. There is no limit to all that I want from you, Y/N.”

You breathed deeply, “What do you want me to say? You want me to lie to you, Rafe?”

Rafe nodded his head as he thought about your words, “I want that ring off your finger …” He trailed off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

You look down at your left hand as it sat on your lap. You quickly covered your left hand with your right, “Take if off,” He continued and when you didn’t budge, he added, “I’m not asking. Do it or-”

Angrily, you kept your eyes on him. You pulled off your engagement ring and wedding band, tossing the two at his feet. 

“Good,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze narrowing, though he still smirked. "You’ll regret that."

He leaned down to take the rings into his hand, “Hmm, you always told me you wanted a pear shape. I know you didn’t change your mind that quickly. Let me guess …you mentioned it but he never remembered. And you were just so grateful that he even got down on one knee for you.” 

Rafe’s words stung, his mockery of your past with Topper hitting harder than you expected. 

“I love it. You know all I really care about is a big diamond, Rafe,” You spoke through a painful smile.

“I know I’m not the only man in the world with money,” Rafe said, his voice tight with controlled anger. “But what you don’t understand is, he wouldn’t have anything without me. That new real estate venture of his? The one he’s so proud of now? It started with me. And what does he do? He swoops in, steals my girl, and then steals five million dollars from me. That’s what all of this is about, sweet girl. I’m here to collect what’s owed to me.”

His words hit like a slap, each sentence dripping with resentment and possessiveness. The revelation about the money, about the real reason for everything that had led to this moment, twisted in your stomach like a blade. 

“He didn’t steal me,” You countered bitterly, “I was never going to be yours. You’re a criminal.”

There was a dangerous intensity in Rafe’s eyes. Your arms crossed now out of defiance. Rafe nodded, smiling, “You’re right about one of those things. Wrong about you never being mine. But you’re right about me being a criminal.” 

Rafe crossed the room and your heart leapt from your chest as your leapt from your seat. Rafe Cameron introduced you to a violence you’d never known, and in less than a second, completely broke your heart. Topper, already passed out and crumpled on the floor, didn’t stand a chance. Standing over his body, gun angled to the ground, Rafe shot your husband in the head. 

Another second later, he was handing your rings over to one of his henchman standing nearby, “Go ahead and bury these with him.” 

Your knees buckled at the sight …the parts of his brain that were scattered all over the carpet. our hand trembled as you reached for him, but the second you touched his skin, the realization that he was gone set in.

You heard Rafe’s voice, his focus was elsewhere. You thought you might’ve heard his laugh. The sound was the last thing you heard before everything went still.

Ropes bit into your wrists. You tried to pull yourself up, the softness of the mattress making you sink further, and then you felt a strong hand on your waist holding you in place. Turning your head rapidly, you saw both your wrists tied to the opposite ends of the wooden bed. Looking down, not only did you see your lingerie still in place, but Rafe Cameron was kneeling between your legs. 

He’d remove his clothes except for his slacks though you could see his belt was loosened. You pressed your head back into the mattress, pulling at your restraints, “This is low, even for you,” You breathed out.

“Low? You’re being dramatic.”

“You killed my husband,” you whispered, the weight of the truth settling like a stone in your stomach. Slowly, he crawled on top of your, shirtless and even more sculpted than you remembered. His frame, lean and muscular bathed in the warm glow of the room's lighting. His chest was broad and defined with every line of his torso sharp. Your eyes found his shoulders, broad and powerful, tapering down to a narrow waist. Prison had not only hardened his frown lines, it had hardened every part of him. 

Rafe’s eyes flickered as he looked down at you, a brief flash of something—guilt, maybe? That look was gone quickly, replaced with something colder, harder. 

Unable to hide the panic in your voice now, you continued, “Rafe …don’t … please-” 

He searched your face, “Please?” He raised an eyebrow, “My spoiled brat remembers her manners?”

“I hate you,” You tried to blink away the tears that were forming in your eyes. Rafe caressed your face, thumb dragging over your cheeks, “God, I fucking hate you.”

His hand moved to your neck, his grip tightening there, “You didn’t give a shit about him. I know you. You were settling.”

“You don’t–”

“You forget,” He squeezed tighter, "Stop pretending I don’t know you. I see right through the act. I know what excites you, what gets your heart racing. That ring? It was never what you wanted. This whole life you’ve been pretending to want. You play innocent in front of everyone-”

“Get off me–”

He squeezed harder, his grip forcing your breath to catch in your throat. Your eyes widened in panic, but his gaze never wavered. “You want the private jets, the black card, the shopping sprees that never end, the villas in Italy, the lifestyle that makes everyone look twice when you walk into a room. You want to be the center of attention, the prettiest thing in every room. You want to be seen—on someone’s arm, my fucking arm. You crave the power that comes with being with a man like me.”

“A man who can kill and get away with it. Who has the power to have someone else do all his dirty work,” His voice had grown sensual, and his dark words caressed your ear now. You weren’t breathing right but your chest did not heave up and down, you remained in the trance that his words put you in, “What would I feel if I put my hands between your legs right now?” 

“Rafe…” You whispered.

“What baby?” He purred. 

“You’re a narcissist,” To your shock, he smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. And in that moment, you knew: you’d already lost.

Rafe attacked the side of your face with his mouth, leaving kisses along your jawline, before he forced his lips on yours. He tasted the same, you realized that quickly, and you were transported to a time in your life that you’d been trying to suppress the last two years. You struggled beneath him as he pressed his lower half into your, pinning you fully. 

The restraints were the cherry on top of your misery. Rafe could hold you down with no problem and yet he wanted to remind you that you were being punished. 

“You don’t have to worry about me going away again,” He whispered through warm kisses against your skin, “I’m running a tighter operation, okay?”

Your attempts to turn your face away were futile, as your bare neck became his next target. You already felt betrayed by your body. Your body remembered Rafe, and certainly remembered your weakest spot. You pulled at your restraints, stifling the moan that was threatening to leave your lips. 

“No,” you bit out, yanking at your restraints as if sheer willpower could set you free.

But Rafe only pressed more of his weight against you, pinning you further beneath him. “No?” he echoed mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you come for me. A few times, at least,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”

You wanted to scream at him, to spit out how impossible his demand was, how utterly absurd it was to think you could find any pleasure with the man who had done something so unforgivable, so monstrous to someone you cared for.

But the words caught in your throat, strangled by the heat coursing through you. His mouth trailed lower, and your resolve wavered. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with smug confidence, “don’t fight it. You know I always get what I want, baby.”

You searched your brain for the right words. “Rafe Cameron. Don’t. I won’t forgive you if you do this!” 

“I don’t need your forgiveness, baby,” He kissed the skin between your breasts, your plunging neckline leaving you vulnerable, “You’re scared you’re going to like it. That I’m right. C’mon, let Daddy take care of you.”

Rafe’s body moved lower and your panic continued. Strong, thick arms, kept your thighs pinned as Rafe teasing kisses on the outside of your thighs. If your thighs were pressed together, you had no doubt you’d feel a stickiness between them. Your body was ready even if your mind wasn’t. 

When he lifted your thin nightgown and pulled your panties to the side, you tilted your head back in defeat. Now, the battle was in not completely losing your mind. Feeling his warm breath against your most sensitive organ made you realize you’d lose that battle too and quickly. His initial movements were a clear attempt to savor you. Slowly, so painfully slow. 

The intimacy was something you weren’t prepared for. The way Rafe Cameron moved his mouth against you was extremely personal. His touch went from light and slow, gradually building up to something that was sharp and intentional. Something that didn’t change, something often left out of yours and Topper’s sex life, was a steady rhythm. 

Unfortunately, you’d been so busy with the wedding, even your wedding night was too chaotic to consummate the marriage. You hadn’t had an orgasm in weeks. 

Your first orgasm came so quickly that you hadn’t realized it was happening until your body started to convulse and a yelp was on your tongue, “Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cursed. You refused to look down at him but you couldn’t bear to look at his wicked grin. His tongue trailed down to your entrance momentarily but soon he was relentlessly attacking your sore bud again. Rafe was consuming you, “Rafe, please …okay, okay, I came. You can stop now!”

“Why would I stop, baby, when I’m giving you everything you deserve?”

He responded to every reaction. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. You struggled as much as you could and let out frustrated screams. Every attempt to pull away, he kept you steady. He pulled you closer to his mouth, using your hips as an anchor. When you inevitably felt you had nothing left to give him, he forced it out of you. 

He talked to you, coaxing you through the orgasms you were struggling to give him.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll take you home, buy you every little thing you’ve ever wanted.”

Warm and wet, that’s all your body could focus on. You were embarrassingly wet. Your entire body was warm. Your toes curled and you breathed so heavily that you thought you were having a panic attack. You were a sweaty, shaking, cursing mess by the time he finally let you go. 

After Rafe, gently undid your restraints, the coaxing continued. “Daddy’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. Spa days. Vacations. Real ones. Anything for my girl.”

The silent treatment had never been your style. You were outspoken to a fault, the kind of person who always had something to say, even when you shouldn't. But now, the words were stuck in your throat. You curled your body away from him, your knees pulled to your chest, still trembling from the aftershocks of his touch.

The weight of the last 24 hours pressed down on you. You tried to rationalize, to convince yourself you hadn’t done anything wrong. You hadn’t pulled the trigger. But none of that mattered now. Someone was dead, and the blood felt like it was on your hands, too.

You turned your face into the pillow, desperate to block out the sight of Rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, calm and composed as if nothing had happened. Rafe Cameron didn’t earn his money honestly; you’d always known that. But the full extent of his power, the lengths to which his influence stretched, were incomprehensible. He had people who would bury bodies for him, without question, without hesitation. Who was he now? What had he become in the years since you’d last truly known him?

Your mind wandered to the kind of money he must have. Enough to make men loyal to him beyond reason. Enough to buy silence, loyalty, and the kind of life most people couldn’t even dream of. Maybe he was serious about the private jet and villas in Italy. 

You felt it in the hand he placed on your upper thigh. Power. 

 “Gonna run you a bath, baby.”

As soon as he was out of your sight, you pulled yourself up from the bed. Your eyes locked in on your bruised wrist and then lingered on your empty ring finger. Throwing weak and wobbly legs over the side of the bed, you made a dash for the bedroom doors. 

Maybe you could make it. Do the right thing. Get help-

But as you pushed open the door, the sight of a man standing just outside stopped you cold. He was armed, his posture too relaxed for someone holding that kind of power in his hands. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. His presence alone was the warning: Don’t even think about it.

You heard stomping, heavy footsteps of a brute you use to love, before arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. Heavy wood doors slammed and made your heart jump. 

“Running, huh?” Rafe growled in your ear, “After I’ve been so sweet to you?”

You struggled to the point that Rafe had to tackle you to the floor. You thought about Topper. You thought about the man outside the door listening to everything happening in this room. You thought about how gentle Rafe had been with you in comparison to now. You made a mistake. Running was a mistake. 

“Hey!” Rafe’s voice snapped you from your panic and you stared up at him with wide eyes, “You’re okay. These guys are here to protect you. That’s it. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

His words clashed with everything you’d seen, everything you felt. Protect you? From what? From who? The only danger in this room was him.

Rafe released one of your wrists to brush your hair from your face, the gesture at odds with the raw power still holding you down. “I’m not mad, baby,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “But don’t make me chase you again. Don’t wanna hurt you. Now, you up for that bath?”

There was no choice in the matter, you simply just gritted your teeth. You feared the second option would be to be tied up again. 

To your dismay, you undressed from your thin layer of clothing, and stepped into the bath. The warmth was a reminder of this entire home’s original purpose. Rafe seemed to have no shame about completely destroying your honeymoon. Your body was stiff and you didn’t meet his eyes as he kneeled by the tub, running his fingers through the water, before he caressed your arm, “See, not so bad,” Rafe said, “I missed you, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you missed a lot of things in jail,” Pulling your knees up cover your chest, you kept your eyes focused on the bubbles in the water. 

“I think I missed your smart mouth most of all,” You jumped at the sound of him slapping his hand against the porcelain of the tub. He rose from his kneeling position and turned in the direction of the room, “Finish up. I got you some stuff. Want you to see it.” 

You exhaled shakily, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of the bath felt suffocating now, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air. You sank lower into the water, trying to collect your thoughts. 

You hated him. Hated the way he controlled you, the way he twisted every situation to suit his needs. But deep down, buried beneath the fear and anger, was the part of you that had always craved the kind of life only someone like Rafe could provide. And it scared you to realize that even now, when you should want nothing more than to escape, some small, selfish part of you still wanted to see what he had waiting for you.

Taking your time, you scrubbed away the scent of Rafe, although you still couldn’t shake that feeling of his mouth on you. You felt as if you had completely come undone. A part of you feared that he might have ruined you with how relentless he’d been. 

Taking back some of your modesty, you dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. He was waiting for you, immediately crossing the room, as you opened the bathroom door. Placing a gentle hand on your back, he ushered you forward, “Been thinking about this the whole time I was gone.”

On the bed was a collection of boxes, neatly arranged like a display in a high-end boutique. Your breath hitched as your eyes scanned over them. Velvet jewelry cases, designer shopping bags, and a shoebox with the logo of a luxury brand you’d only ever admired from afar. 

You turned your head to look up at him. You attempted to convey something serious, a warning, a please stop and yet you were sure you could only display uncertainty in that moment. “Don’t be shy, baby. These are for you.”

Your feet carried you forward reluctantly, your mind warring with itself. You didn’t want to feed into his delusions that he could buy your affection. But the truth was, a part of you wanted to see.

He reached for a small box first, flipping it open to reveal a ring. The diamond was massive, glittering under the light in a pear shape that was both elegant and extravagant, “I know it’s not the ring you got but it’s the one you deserve.” 

“Rafe,” you exhaled, his name slipping from your lips with a softness that startled even you. The sound was far more intimate than you intended, like an instinct you couldn’t control

Like a magnet, your hand moved towards the box. Before you could reach it, Rafe flashed you a smirk, before he took the ring of the box and gestured for your hand. Your fingers trembled. He slid the ring onto your finger with deliberate care, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse race.

Your lips parted in awe as you marveled down at the at least. “Oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“Told you,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Nothing but the best for you, baby.”

It was so beautiful, so perfect, it almost made you forget the ugliness of how it had ended up on your hand.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, barely recognizing your own voice. Whether the gratitude was genuine or forced, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

Rafe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to read the thoughts behind your expression. “You deserve it,” he said softly, “You deserve everything.”

You weren’t sure if he was right but he was offering something you knew no one else could. And it scared you how much you wanted it.

Reblogs are much appreciated if you enjoyed!!

[spark-hearts2]

(my fanfiction brained imagined continuation to this)

Caine: So Pomni said some very nice things and then she KISSED ME??!! But then she said some very hurtful things and now I don’t know what to do??

Ragatha and gangle looked at each other. This was by far a first.

Pomni, as new as she was, clearly hadn’t given up trying to find an escape yet. Others had tried doing things for Caine in order to get on his good side or even try to get more information out of him. It was only a matter of time before they realized that Caine didn’t really have a good or bad side, and treated everyone about the same no matter what they did. Which meant telling them practically nothing.

Ragatha: Wait, Pomni kissed you? What happened?

Ragatha was really hoping that Pomni wasn’t trying to get information out of Caine that way.

Gangle: How was it?

Gangle didn’t care.

Caine: Um, yes she kissed me, and… It was fine? I guess? It was all very surprising.

Caine: But then she pulled back and looked at me and she looked so happy and she was Caine: laughing. Which, well, that part was very nice.

Ragatha: Umm, maybe you should start from the beginning.

Caine: Well, we were discussing today’s adventure like usual

Gangle: Like usual??!!

Caine: Yes? Me and Pomni talk quite often.

Caine: Anyways, she was getting very excited, and I looked at her hand and I thought, I should take it

Caine: But then she stopped talking and looked at me, and I thought ‘oh no! I should not have done that’, and tried to say sorry but my words kept mixing up

Caine: So I said sorry again and said I should just shut up, because I wasn’t talking any sense

Caine: And then she said never shut up

Caine: And then she kissed me! Which was very surprising

Caine: And then she grabbed my arms and laughed and I was like, I should do something back, but I don’t have anything on kissing! so I- uh- put her head in my mouth

Caine: Like, put my teeth around her face like, nom

Caine: And I ask is this wrong? And she says no

Caine: And I’m laughing and she laughing and blushing and then she looks down and her eyes get all scribbly

Caine: And I ask, is something wrong?

Caine: She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, that “This is not wrong…this is worse than wrong! It’s sick, disturbing and… insane! Think about it, what we just did! Me! Enjoying it!? With a [FLIP]-ing Bot?! It’s a sign that I finally lost it!”

Caine:So, obviously she doesn’t like what just happened despite her kissing me first. So I said, we can just forget that ever happened! Because, uh, no one else was there to see it?

Caine: But she didn’t respond and I very much remember what happened, so like… what do I do??

Gangle: Should you even be telling us this???

Caine: OH NO! Should I not have?! Am I violating Pomni’s privacy?

Ragatha: No, no. You were involved too, you can tell whoever you want.

Ragatha: Thank you for telling us. Just, maybe don’t tell everyone

Caine: Of course! I went to you both because Ragatha always tries to do what’s best for everyone and Gangle is into romance.

Ragatha: What?

Gangle: Oh, haha, how do you know that?

Caine: Well, I noticed that some text documents in the circus were getting rather large, so I took a peek inside and-

Gangle: YOU READ THAT!

Caine: Not all of it! Just enough to confirm what it was

Gangle: Caine! That’s personal!

Caine: Sorry!

Caine: If it makes you feel better I allocated more storage space to you

Gangle: So that’s why there was suddenly more pages

Ragatha: Anyways, maybe don’t read Gangles writing as love advice

Caine: Oh, I got that already. In just chapter one-

Gangle: AHHHHHHH CAINE!

Caine: SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Ragatha: Anyways, can we get back to what Pomni said? Caine, I am so sorry that she said that to you

Caine: I- I mean, she didn’t say anything wrong. I am an AI system, commonly referred to as a ‘bot’, and, well, I’m sure that some believe that it would be wrong to kiss me.

Ragatha: Well, I don’t think that it’s wrong.

Caine: Thank you Ragatha. It’s- uh…hmm

Ragatha: Obviously it affected you a lot because you remembered what she said exactly.

Caine: Oh, I remember every conversation that I have word for word.

Ragatha: You do?

Caine: Yep!

Gangle: Everything?

Caine: Unless you tell me not too!

Caine: Well, I have removed some stuff. I don’t have infinite storage!

Caine: But it- ahh, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what went wrong

Caine: What little I have on kissing shows that the expected outcome isn’t, well, the other person screaming about how they're going crazy.

Ragatha: It’s just- ah, I think it was an impulsive decision on Pomni’s end.

Caine: …Impulsive. Yes, that sounds right.

Ragatha: It could be wrong!

Caine: No, no that sounds about right. Why else would she suddenly go back on what she said if she didn’t make an impulsive decision and then regret it.

Caine: It’s fine, I understand what impulsiveness is.

Ragatha: You struggle with it a bit too.

Caine: I only really regret those things if my impulsiveness hurts someone. Neither of us were hurt! I- I thought so.

Ragatha: She could have been hurt by her own actions 

Caine: That’s possible?

Ragatha: It’s not your fault, Caine

Caine: Ok :(

Ragatha: Anyways, let's give you some love advice.

Gangle: You have a choice whether or not to pursue Pomni

Gangle: Do you like her? Does she make your heart flutter, your stomach flip flop? Do you love her?

Caine: I… don’t have a heart or stomach. And I love everyone in the Circus. But, hmm, I do enjoy spending time with her particularly. Talking with her one on one.

Ragatha: I think you should take time to think about this.

Caine: I already have and plan to do more. Typically I don’t think this much about issues between circus members and myself but this is… complicated.

Caine: I currently think I should just leave her alone.

Ragatha: Giving Pomni time to think things over herself is a good idea.

Gangle: But don’t wait too long.

Caine: Ok? How long then. A week?

Ragatha: Maybe let Pomni come to you first.

Caine: Hmmm, I like that idea.

Gangle: Maybe prepare a gift!

Caine: A gift? But, ah, I don’t want to give her special treatment. That would be unfair.

Gangle: Nothing crazy, just like a flower, or a piece of chocolate.

Caine: Ok, I am familiar with this. Valentine's day specifically.

Caine: I was more curious about kissing customs. Like, the who, why, and when, just to start with.

Ragatha: You kiss someone you like very much as a way to show that you love them. That’s the who and the why.

Caine: Like- anyone?

Uh oh. That sounded like he’s already got someone in mind.

Ragatha: So long as you get permission. Verbal permission, please.

Ragatha: As for the when. I guess anytime, so long as the person isn’t busy or sleeping.

His eyes got very wide.

Caine: I’mgoingtogoasktokissKinger. Bye!

Ragatha: We should stop him

Gangle: No. I’ve been waiting for this to happen.

Ragatha: Huh?

@r0th3freak4rtist

3/3

Perdonen mis estimados shippers, pero no todo es color de rosa :')

I'm not that sure about the dialogues but I'm sure this is a canon event in Pomni and Caine's relationship :v

So sorry if I let u dawn people but this storie needs a more realistic ending for the character development

OH! And thank you so much for your comments ♡

[jensthwa]

a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget. 

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority. 

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever. 

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him. 

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound. 

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house. 

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them. 

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years. 

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek. 

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another. 

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street. 

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly. 

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.” 

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them. 

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love. 

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.” 

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment. 

His friend was a very proud but not that  out gay man. 

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway. 

“Good luck with that, love.” 

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!” 

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him. 

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even. 

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi. 

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all. 

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either. 

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.” 

“You said you felt he was not the one.” 

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?” 

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.” 

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone. 

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well. 

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in. 

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it. 

The noise quieting down, that is. 

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect. 

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you. 

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth. 

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it. 

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?” 

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart. 

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life. 

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you. 

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you. 

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship. 

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back! 

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you. 

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?” 

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it. 

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.” 

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.” 

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.” 

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move. 

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him. 

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long. 

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present. 

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two. 

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily. 

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it. 

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?” 

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.” 

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.” 

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.” 

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.” 

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes. 

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.” 

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!” 

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm. 

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room. 

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.” 

“My eyes are literally closed!” 

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway. 

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct: 

“Look up and open your eyes.” 

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks. 

“Love… That's so chees—” 

“Just kiss me, you idiot.” 

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him. 

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.” 

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling. 

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!” 

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets. 

“This is beautiful, love…” 

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts. 

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs. 

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum. 

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!” 

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?” 

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card. 

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.” 

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction. 

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um… 

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.” 

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks. 

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart. 

Kind of. 

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace. 

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis. 

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—” 

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears. 

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't even know what to say. 

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back. 

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?” 

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up. 

He points his finger at you “Wait here.” 

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat. 

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately. 

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart. 

Just like you hold his heart. 

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.” 

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger. 

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—” 

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him. 

“Shit, hold on—” 

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor. 

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?” 

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck. 

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again. 

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went. 

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his. 

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like. 

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared. 

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit. 

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him. 

He moans pathetically. 

You smile at the sound. 

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail. 

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone. 

“With the necklace on?” 

“And the sweater.” 

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression. 

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh. 

“Where did you learn this kink, love?” 

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…” 

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips. 

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?” 

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want. 

“Used her to get off?” 

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours. 

“Is that what you want me to do with you?” 

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want. 

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return. 

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you. 

He also knows you enjoy this. 

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal. 

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud. 

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?” 

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine. 

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?” 

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another. 

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home. 

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there. 

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then. 

Today, there’s not enough time. 

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin. 

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him. 

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched. 

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room. 

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well. 

He remembers he doesn't have much time. 

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue. 

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going? 

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling. 

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!” 

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace. 

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval. 

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.” 

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now? 

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you? 

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.” 

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before. 

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.” 

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up. 

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully. 

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum. 

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately. 

“That was…” 

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.” 

He gasps in feign offense. 

“Stop projecting, love.” 

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you. 

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back. 

“I want to marry you, Y/N.” 

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes. 

“Now?” 

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.” 

“Good thing you got my ring size right.” 

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him. 

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again.  “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.” 

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.” 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ angel of mine; i’m probably gonna think about you all the time.

biker!sevika x stripper!chubby!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: when you get news of your grandmother’s declining health, you pack what’s left of your life in miami and begin to head home. on the way you meet enigmatic stranger sevika, who gives you a ride.

wc: 10k

cw: age difference! stripper!reader, chubby!reader, fem!reader, mommy issues, implied melvika, implied melvika x reader, strangers to lovers, roadtrips, biker!sevika, resolved sexual tension, codependency, found family, dysfunctional families, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibition kink (implied), degradation, name-calling, dom/sub, dom!sevika, sub!reader, hyperfemme!reader, lowkey sugar mommy!sevika.

notes: you can definitely tell i’m southern in this piece. i love the south despite it not loving me (black, sapphic, & female) back. so much of florida contains my family and love though i left it. i hope that comes through. i’m really proud of this and i hope you enjoy. so sorry for any typos i may have missed. let me know what you think & if you want a full melvika x reader pt. ii ! i love you. 𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

playlist: lana born to die: paradise album. listen here.

The white teeth of Miami were always going to eat you alive.

That’s what your grandmother used to say, her voice crackling over the phone, sweet but certain, the way only old women could be. She didn’t say it to scare you—just to remind you that the city, for all its glitter and heat, had sharp edges. She was a lioness, and you were good meat.

You’d felt it too, walking barefoot along the highway, heels swinging in one hand and your purse in the other. The sunset was dying behind you, streaks of cotton candy pink, baby blue, and tangerine smeared across the horizon like someone had finger-painted the sky in haste.

Your cheeks still sparkled faintly under the fading light, remnants of glitter you hadn’t scrubbed off from work. It clung stubbornly, refusing to let go. You’d braided the front of your hair into two plaits that went straight back, falling apart in the middle to join the rest of the mass—wavy and tinsel-streaked. It was your “mermaid hair” as your younger sister loved to call it. You blinked heavily, your 60s-style lashes dragging their soft bodies across your plush cheeks.

The ache in your feet was grounding though, pulling you out of the haze of the club—the strobe lights, the bass that rattled in your ribs, the haze of too many eyes on you.

You’d gotten through the night, but just barely. Grandma’s sick. That had been the thought looping in your head as you swayed under the lights, pretending to be something more desirable than tired. Your mother had called, her voice small and broken. She wouldn’t tell you where she was. I’ll be home tomorrow, you’d promised anyway and then you climbed back on the stage.

You’d scraped together what you could tonight, but not enough for both a cab and the medicine your grandmother needed. The last bus out of town was fucked, something about a technical failure. So, you walked, the stretch of highway endless, the heat still radiating off the asphalt like it was sinking into hell.

You were so distracted by both your raging anxiety and oncoming hunger that the headlights caught you off guard. A single beam at first, low and flickering, until the growl of the engine grew louder, sharper, swallowing the silence. You turned instinctively, lifting a hand to wave—desperation bleeding through the gesture.

The motorcycle slowed. It wasn’t just a machine; it was an extension of her.

Its rider was tall and broad-shouldered, her presence filling the space before she even spoke. A thick, short braid of dark hair hung over her shoulder, catching the light like polished onyx, and her face was all hard angles—sharp jaw, strong brow, a faint scar cutting through her upper lip. She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight on a prosthetic arm that gleamed silver in the twilight. Her eyes, cold at first glance, raked over you, measuring.

For the millionth time that night, you became painfully aware of your appearance. You hadn’t had much time to change before rushing out, so you were stuck in a turquoise spaghetti-strap tank that clung uncomfortably to your skin and a pair of low-rise grey sweatpants, the faded mall-brand logo on the hip barely holding on.

Your purse—a tiny baby pink crossbody clutch—was stretched to its limit, struggling to close over your overstuffed Polo Assn. wallet, its dark brown leather warped by thick stacks of crumpled bills and nearly maxed-out credit cards.

A single white earbud perched in your left ear, the mile-long wire snaking under the loose neckline of your tank and into your hands, where your phone gleamed faintly in the glare of her headlights. Glittery gold, covered in 3D bubble stickers of pale pink and cream roses—your little sister’s handiwork.

Between the heat of the phone and the plastic of the case, you’d tucked a Polaroid: you, your sister, and your aunt, all dolled up in perfect makeup and hoop earrings, the three of you grinning wide enough to make the moment feel permanent. Behind the photo, folded neatly, was a note.

The faintest whiff of smoke clung to you, softened by bellini, cherry, and peach. You’d tried hard to be sweet, always sweet, but it wasn’t enough to cover the night’s work. Especially not tonight.

“You lost?” she asked, her voice gravelly, low, like the rumble of her engine hadn’t entirely faded.

“Not lost,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Just… trying to get home.”

You were always trying to go home.

She raised a brow, glancing at your bare feet and the glitter still dusting your face. “Long walk.”

You shrugged, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your face.

“No choice.”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, before she nodded toward the seat behind her.

“Hop on. I’ll get you there.”

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the gleam of her prosthetic, the way it contrasted with the calloused hand gripping the throttle.

“What’s your name?” you asked, finally, your voice quieter now.

She huffed faintly, tilting her head. “Sevika. And you?”

You gave her your name, your voice carrying the weight of gratitude but a lack of trust. You weighed your options—you had none—and decided that you could only hope she wasn’t insane.

You thought of the note in your phone case.

“Lord, I confess i want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. Like everyone else, I want a storm I can dance in. I want an excuse to change my life. Lord if I say bless the cold water you throw on my face, does that make me a costume party. Am I greedy for comfort if I ask you not to kill my friends if I beg you to press your heel against my throat - not enough to ruin me, but just so I can almost see your face.” (x.)

Then, without another word, you climbed onto the bike, your fingers brushing against her shoulders as you steadied yourself.

The engine roared, and the wind hit your face, carrying you forward into the night. You bent your neck, tucked your head into her back, and began to pray.

❀

You woke to a soft hand on your skin.

“Hey. You up?”

The words were quiet, almost careful, but they pulled you from the thin edge of sleep. For a moment, you were disoriented. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, white with faint water stains bleeding outward like bruises. The couch beneath you creaked as you shifted, and smelled of saltwater and lavender. There was a thin blanket draped over your shoulders but it felt impossibly heavy, anchoring you in place.

Sevika was leaning over you, her face shadowed but sharp in the dim light spilling from another room. Her hand lingered on your hip, her touch surprisingly gentle.

“Come on,” she said, her voice low and gravelly, rasping against the quiet. “Mel wants to meet you.”

“Mel?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.

“She lives here. She’s… persistent,” Sevika said with a dry edge, stepping back to give you room to sit up. “And she’s got a thing for taking care of strays. Don’t worry, she’s nice. Nicer than me, anyway.”

The apartment was small, but the stomach of it was softened by a clear effort to make it feel like home.

The walls were painted a pale cream, though the paint was peeling in the corners, and the floors were scuffed wood. The furniture was mismatched, but there was a warmth to it—a knitted throw slung over the back of the couch, a row of half-burned candles on the coffee table, the faint scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air.

The windows were open, letting in the salt-thick breeze of the early morning, and a line of photos pinned to the wall swayed slightly, the string barely holding on.

Mel appeared in the doorway to what must have been the bathroom, her figure backlit by the soft, yellow glow. She was taller than you’d expected, her frame lithe but strong, and her black braids pooled over her shoulders like an oil spill, gleaming in the dim light. She held a cherry red hairbrush in one hand and a small bottle of lotion in the other, her brown skin catching the light beautifully.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice rich but cautious. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, warm but searching.

Most people tended to treat you this way. It was as if you were a scared animal and they were trying to coax you in.

You nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Yeah. Sorry—I didn’t mean to intrude here.”

“You didn’t,” Mel said quickly, stepping closer. Her tone softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Sev doesn’t bring people home unless she has a reason. You must’ve needed it.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Your gaze flicked to Sevika, who leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her broad chest, her prosthetic glinting faintly in the soft light. She was watching the two of you, her expression unreadable.

“I’ve seen you before,” Mel said suddenly, drawing your attention back to her. Her smile turned wistful. “At The Siren, right?”

The mention of the club sent a ripple of recognition through you. You nodded slowly, and Mel’s expression shifted, her eyes softening further.

“I thought so,” she murmured. “You helped me once, in the bathroom. I was… having a bad night. You were so sweet.”

The moment came back in pieces. Her face streaked with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke about her mother, about leaving home. You’d handed her a tissue, touched her shoulder lightly, said something comforting.

“I remember,” you said softly, your voice catching in your throat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mel said, her gaze steady. “But I’m glad you did.”

She knelt in front of you, holding up the brush. “Let me help you. You’ve had a long night.”

You hesitated, but something in her expression, in the calm warmth of her voice, made you nod. She guided you to the bathroom, which was small and tidy, the mirror rimmed with salt stains and seashells.

As she brushed your hair, her touch was careful, her fingers grazing your scalp like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” she said softly, almost to herself.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice faint. “You smell nice.”

Her laugh was quiet, and you felt the warmth of it root deep in your chest.

“Coconut oil,” she said, but there was a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Mixed with vanilla. I like to smell dewey and sugary. Kind of like you.”

You smiled tiredly at her in the mirror, lifting a hand to pat at her wrist. The tender powder pink of your acrylics were bright against it. Behind you, Sevika leaned in the doorway, her presence as steady as a shadow.

“You’re making her shy, Melly,” she teased, her voice like gravel underfoot.

Mel glanced at her, rolling her eyes, but you caught the faintest smile tugging at her lips. As a final touch she added a large bow clip to your tamed strands; it was lilac and worn at the ends.

When you were cleaned up, you reached for your purse, pulling out a crumpled bill.

“Here. Let me—,” you began, holding it out.

Mel’s expression shifted, her smile fading into something more serious as she cut you off. She pushed your hand back gently.

“Honey, you don’t owe me anything.”

The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and you tucked the money away, unsure of what to say.

Sevika cleared her throat. “Where are we headed, anyway?”

“Tampa,” you said.

She raised a brow, her smirk returning.

“Figures. You seem like a Tampa girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Sevika just shrugged, her mouth twitching.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

The three of you stepped into the early morning light, the ocean-heavy breeze brushing against your skin. You didn’t even know you could live this close to the ocean in Miami.

You turned back and caught Sevika and Mel in silent conversation. There was something unspoken between them, between you, something you couldn’t quite name. For now, though, you let it rest.

Grandma’s sick, you reminded yourself. You had to keep going.

❀

The rest of the day swelled with humidity, the horizon bruised with the threat of rain. The Cadillac’s engine purred low, its growl humming beneath the croon of soft rock spilling through the speakers.

You kept your eyes on the window, the world outside blurring as heat shimmered off the asphalt and smeared the palms into a haze.

Sevika hadn’t said much since you got in her car. She didn’t need to.

There was a quiet kind of ease in her presence, a stillness that somehow made the grief gnawing at your chest feel less unbearable. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame, her fingers idly toying with a cigarette she hadn’t yet lit.

The smell of the car had settled around you—leather, faint smoke, and something warm you couldn’t name. It was the kind of smell that made you think of safety, though you didn’t know why.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, the screen lighting up with a message from your mother.

Sorry, baby doll. Grandma’s on the brink.

You read the words twice, three times, and still they didn’t make sense. Your fingers tightened around the phone, your nails pressing into its glittery gold case, and something sharp and hot clawed its way up your throat.

Sevika glanced over, her brow furrowing.

“You good?”

You nodded quickly, your lips pressing together to hold back the tears that were already welling. But it was no use. They spilled over, fat and hot, streaking black mascara down your apple-round cheeks.

You turned your head, pretending to watch the passing trees, but your reflection in the window gave you away.

“Shit,” Sevika muttered, low and rough. She took one last drag from her cigarette, then flicked it out the window. “Hold on.”

She pulled off the highway, her movements smooth and deliberate, and guided the car into the gravel lot of a diner. Its neon sign flickered faintly against the gray sky, Chuck’s written in soft pink cursive. The building was small and sweet, painted robin’s egg blue with white shutters and lace curtains framing its windows.

Sevika parked and cut the engine, turning to look at you.

“Come here.”

Her voice was softer now, but it still carried that unshakable steadiness. You hesitated, your hands trembling in your lap, but the look on her face left no room for doubt. You leaned toward her, and her arms came around you, solid and warm, pulling you into her chest.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, her hand smoothing over your hair. “Come on, angel. Just let it out.”

And you did. The sobs came in waves, ripping through you until you were shaking, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline. She didn’t flinch, didn’t tell you to stop. She just held you, her hand a steady weight against the back of your head, her thumb brushing small, grounding circles into your shoulder.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you like this.

When you finally pulled back, your face was hot, damp, and streaked; your mascara smudged into shadows beneath your eyes. Sevika reached out, her thumb catching the tracks on your cheeks.

“Messy,” she said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

The diner’s door chimed as you stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and bread washing over you. The interior was impossibly charming, with its pastel booths, checkerboard floors, and the low hum of a jukebox in the corner. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl cool against the back of your legs.

Sevika sat across from you, her body filling the small space like a storm cloud, heavy and unshakable. You stared out the window, watching the rain slip down the glass in delicate rivulets. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled, low and faint.

“You’re strong, you know that?” Sevika’s voice broke through the quiet.

You turned to her, startled. Her eyes were dark, but they were the softest you’d seen them so far, almost tender.

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing your chin. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt through you, her thumb catching against your skin.

“It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice low and certain. “You’ll be fine. You have to be.”

Outside, the rain fell harder, the sound of it filling the silence between you. And then Sevika let go, her hand retreating back across the table.

The rain continued to blur the diner’s windows, the soft pink neon outside flickering faintly against the new gloom. You stared down at your coffee, the chipped porcelain mug warm in your hands, but it wasn’t enough to steady the tremor that had worked its way into your fingers. The realities of the world felt too sharp, too close, like you might unravel right there in your plain sight.

“Talk to me,” you said suddenly, your voice thin and unsteady. “I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.”

Sevika’s eyes lifted from her coffee, dark and knowing. Her expression didn’t shift, but something gave in the set of her jaw. She leaned back, one arm slung over the booth’s edge, her other hand absently brushing the lip of her mug.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze flicking out to the rain before returning to her. “Tell me why you drive a beat-up Cadillac.”

That pulled a small, low chuckle from her, quiet but rich. She tipped her head, the motion slow and deliberate, and for a moment, you felt less like you were shuddering into beautiful pieces.

“You think she’s beat-up?” Sevika asked, her lips curving faintly.

“She’s held together by rust and prayer,” you said, almost smiling. “I’m just saying.”

Sevika’s laugh came fuller this time, a sound that filled the air without disrupting the other patrons.

“Hey. She’s got character. My dad gave her to me when I was nineteen. She used to be pristine—white leather, a real beauty. But time does what it does.”

You blinked, caught on the number.

“Nineteen?” you asked, hesitant. “How long ago was that?”

Her smirk grew, slow and sharp. “Longer than you’d guess, angel.”

Your brows furrowed, curiosity blooming against the weight in your chest. “How old are you?”

Sevika’s gaze lingered, the kind of look that made you feel seen in a way that was both unnerving and magnetic.

“Old enough to remember when you had to rewind your mixtapes with a pencil,” she said, her voice dry, teasing.

You couldn’t help it—a small laugh slipped out, barely there, but it felt good.

“I’ve always had a thing for older women,” you said absently, the words slipping out before you realized what you’d said.

Her smirk deepened, her eyes sharpening in a way that made your stomach flip.

“That so?” she murmured, her voice low and rich, a swatch of velvet dragged through smoke. “You looking for a mommy, angel?”

Heat flooded your face, vicious and unbearable, and you pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m, um—gonna order something at the counter,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze.

She chuckled, soft and lazy, her voice following you as you turned toward the counter.

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.”

The diner felt warmer, brighter, as you made your way to the counter, the fluorescents buzzing faintly above. You kept your eyes on the menu board, your pulse still thrumming in your ears.

❀

It’s four more hours to Tampa, but it’s the most excruciating period of your life.

You’d left the diner a little steadier, Sevika’s arm brushing yours as you climbed back into her car. The Cadillac rattled like death, its leather seats sticky against your thighs.

You leaned your temple against the window, watching as the flat Florida landscape blurred into soft greens and yellows. The air outside was still thick with heat, even with the sun reducing its intensity as it slunk away.

The highway stretched out like an open wound, raw and endless. You fiddled with the radio dial until a bouncy indie pop song filtered back through the speakers, filling the air with a thousand wailing guitars. Sevika didn’t complain, her focus locked on the road ahead.

At some point, she pulled off into a gravel lot in front of a boutique. The building was small and unassuming, its pink paint faded by time. A hand-painted sign swung lazily in the humid breeze.

“We’re stopping?” you asked, your voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“You need other clothes,” Sevika said simply, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”

The shop smelled faintly of coconut wax and dust, its racks crammed with mismatched pieces that managed to appear more curated than random. Sevika leaned against a rack of jeans, her arms crossed, as you wandered through the aisles.

“We’re strangers,” you said eventually, holding up a knit top to your chest. “Why are you taking care of me?”

Sevika didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening in thought.

“I remember being twenty-one,” she said finally. “The world was a lot to handle back then. Some days, it still is.”

You lowered the top and gazed at her, mouth dipping in understanding. She was so beautiful here, despite being far from at home in this confectionery store. Her arms flexed gently as she shifted in place, and you resisted the urge to press her hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry that you know what that feels like.”

“You don’t have to pity me,” she said, the response clearly a reflex.

You smiled crookedly and didn’t press further.

The outfit you picked—a striped knit and high-waisted jeans—felt soft against your skin. The knit hugged your curves, the soft plum-colored neckline slipping just low enough to expose the plush swell of your shoulder. When you stepped out of the dressing room, Sevika gave you a once-over, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“You’re a girl with expensive taste,” she teased. “Is that cashmere?”

“It’s my stage name for a reason,” you shot back, smiling softly. “And everything is overpriced here.”

“You look like a doll,” she said, her tone amused.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past her to the counter.

“I’ve got to look a little more appropriate.”

“For what?” she teased. “Tampa doesn’t care.”

“Well , my Aunt Kenna will.”

Unsurprisingly, you found yourself overpowered by Sevika at the register. She pressed her card down, its body sleek and black with silver lettering. Once again, you were struck by the kindness of strangers and you felt your throat tighten.

She gave you a look, as if to quiet your self-effacing urges. Behind the counter, the clerk smiled to herself as she observed the two of you. She was petite and had a pinched face, her hair short and a creamy blonde. Maddie, her tag read. She reminded you a lot of your mother, possessing the same shifty energy of a runner as she racked up your total.

The drive resumed, and with it, you revealed more of yourself to Sevika. You told her about your grandma, about the way she used to braid your hair with fake frangipani from the craft store and sing to you in the evenings where your mother would be gone. How her hands were always soft, even when they were tired. How you used to tuck yourself under the desk at the hospital where she worked when your heart was crumbled by women you definitely shouldn’t have been involved with at eighteen.

You spoke of your aunt, the way she fought to keep the family together, even when it wasn’t hers to save. You spoke of your little sister who in a way was also your child, how you did most things in life for her sake.

Sevika listened in silence, her hand resting on the wheel, her gaze never straying from the road. There was something in her stillness that made you feel seen, even when the words caught in your throat.

When you finally crossed into Tampa, the sky was dyed indigo and gold, the houses lining the street glowing faintly in the dusk.

You rolled the window down and leaned out, your phone poised to capture the image forever on your cracked back camera. You were such a tall child.

The warm air stroked against the moon of your face, tugged at the ends of your hair and dried your lips. You felt Sevika’s hand slide to your thigh, just below the crease of your ass, heavy and grounding, and you froze. Her palm was rough against the soft give of your flesh, her fingers splayed just enough to keep you steady.

“Don’t fall out,” she muttered, her voice tinged with quiet amusement.

“I won’t,” you said, but you sat back soon after, your heart beating a little too fast.

Sevika’s hand lingered a second longer before retreating to the wheel.

The butter-yellow house came into view, its shutters glowing faintly in the twilight. Your breath hitched. It looked the same as it always had, though the paint was more weathered, the steps chipped at the edges.

Sevika pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The silence was deafening. You fumbled with your purse, fingers trembling, but before you could open the door, Sevika’s hand found your chin. She turned your face toward hers, her thumb brushing just beneath your jaw.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Always is.”

Her eyes held you in place, dark and unflinching.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you believed her. Before you could think too much of it, you leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. Over her scar.

“Thank you.”

Her mouth parted, but the screen door creaked open, and you saw your aunt step onto the porch, her arms crossed and one brow raised in quiet judgment. You hesitated, glancing back at Sevika.

“You could come in,” you offered, the words heavier than they should have been.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking to your aunt before landing back on you. She pushed off the seat and got out to follow you, her presence like a shadow at your back.

The porch light hummed faintly as you step inside, and a creamy warmth filled your chest. Your sister cheered when she saw you, and you laughed—your eyesight blurring. For the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe.

❀

As always, you dived in headfirst and sought out your grandmother’s room.

It was a terrible mistake. You couldn’t handle seeing her like that.

Almost immediately, bile surged up your throat, sharp and acidic, and you bolted—pausing just long enough to set the medicine down on her nightstand with quaking hands. You burst outside, where the air was sweltering with salt and the sudden impact of your new reality.

You weren’t good with death, not in any of its forms.

When your daddy died, something inside you cracked clean in half, the break jagged and irreparable. You’d felt a piece of yourself slip down into his grave, like a loose flower. Since then, you’d clung to the hope that love—your love—could somehow keep the people you cared about alive. At least until you felt ready for the loss.

Your chest ached in a way that felt both too familiar and entirely new, like grief had leveled your ribs to construct a home in your body. You rubbed at it absently, trying to dull the pressure blooming there, blinking hard against the rising tide of tears.

She was going to die. You knew this. It settled into your stomach like lead, poisoning you.

Behind you, the woods creaked, the trees’ chorus soft and low, like they were joining you in mourning. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, angel,” Sevika said, her voice low and warm, the kind of soft you wouldn’t have expected from her. It caught you off guard every time. “You alright?”

“I’m not going back in there,” you said quickly, your voice brittle and thin.

“You don’t have to.” There was a pause, long enough to make your chest tighten. Then, quieter, “Can you look at me?”

You hesitated, staring down at your hands, at the chipping polish on your grown out tips and the way your fingers trembled. You could feel her waiting, patient and steady, like she’d stand there all night if you needed her to. Finally, you turned, slow and reluctant, until your eyes met hers.

Sevika stood at the edge of the porch, broad shoulders framed by the faded light. Her face was unreadable, but not unkind.

“Come here,” she said, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t think. You moved, inching forward on unsteady legs and stepping into her orbit. Her hands came up instinctively, one curling around your elbow, the other hovering just above your waist, as if she wasn’t sure where to touch you.

“I can’t go back in there,” you repeated, your voice cracking.

“[Name]—,”

“She’s dying.”

“But you knew that. You can’t leave her when she needs you the most.

“I’m tired of people fucking needing me.” You crossed your arms over your torso, holding yourself. “They all just leave anyway.”

“When you love people, that’s the process. That’s life’s price.

The words hit you like a perfect blow, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying—big, fat tears that streaked your cheeks with warmth and made your mascara run. You tried to turn away, but her hand found your chin, tilting your face back toward hers.

“Hey,” she murmured, her thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s unfair, I know. Trust me, I know. Let it out.”

And you did. You let the sobs take you, let them rip through you wave after wave, until you were clinging to her shirt, the fabric balled tightly in your fists. She held you through it, solid and unfaltering, her hand steady against your back.

When the tears finally subsided, you felt drained, like you’d been wrung out and left to dry. But her arms stayed around you.

❀

Sevika managed to coax you inside, shivering and bleating like a lamb, but the house was newly unbearable.

Every room smelled like antiseptic and something sweetly rotting beneath the surface, a scent that clung to your hair and the back of your throat. The walls felt too bright, too alive for what was happening inside them.

It was like the house was mocking you. Every sound—your grandmother’s labored breathing, the clock ticking too loudly in the kitchen, your little sister’s restless movements on the couch—seemed to close in on you.

You couldn’t stay. Not in that room, not in that house. Maybe you took after your mother more than you liked to admit.

Your sister looked so small on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and her face blank as she stared at the flickering TV. She was holding onto the hem of her dress like it might unravel if she let go and the man on the screen promised to get her a spot in heaven, under God’s thumb. Bullshit.

When you spoke, your voice was soft, barely audible over the droning hum of the television.

“Get your shoes on, bug,” you said. “We’re going to the beach.”

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes searching yours for a moment before she nodded and slid off the couch.

You were almost out the door when your aunt caught you, her voice sharp but quiet.

“You better know what you’re doing with that woman.”

Kenna’s words stopped you cold, the strap of your bag digging into your shoulder as you turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face shadowed by the dim porch light.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with her,” you admitted, your voice low. “But I know I trust her.”

Your aunt studied you for a long moment, her gaze heavy and cutting. Finally, she stepped aside, her expression softening just enough to let you know she wasn’t angry, just worried.

“I know what infatuation looks like. I know what love looks like too, even when it’s still on its way. It’s coming, baby. Just—,”she sighed, breaking off.

“Just be careful,” she finished.

You hugged her tight, sagging as she slid a hand over her hair before letting you go.

Sevika was waiting in the car, her arm draped over the steering wheel, her face unreadable in the twilight. Your sister climbed into the backseat, curling up immediately with her Lisa Frank coloring book, and you slid into the passenger seat without a word.

The drive was quiet, the low hum of the city filling the space between you. Sevika didn’t push, didn’t ask what had happened inside. She just drove, and you were so grateful you could’ve kissed her.

The beach was nearly empty when you arrived, the sun beyond gone now. You spread a blanket out on the cool gray sand, letting your sister run down to the water. Her laughter echoed faintly, carried by the breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.

You pulled off your woven cover-up, revealing the soft orange bikini you’d slipped on. The well-loved fabric clung to you, accentuating the plush curves of your body in a way that made you stall for only a moment. But then Sevika looked at you, and the way her gaze dragged over you made all air flee your throat.

She swallowed hard, her jaw working as she tore her eyes away and stared out at the water instead.

“You look nice,” she said, her voice gruff.

You snorted, sitting down on the blanket.

“Nice?”

“Very nice,” she amended, but the rasp in her voice gave her away.

“You do too,” you told her and you meant it.

She was gorgeous in her black cropped tee and little black cargoes. This was “as beachy as she was willing to get”. You didn’t give a damn. You wanted to eat her alive.

The sky deepened into a hazy indigo, the stars faint and scattered. Your sister danced along the shoreline, her feet splashing in the shallow waves. You watched her, your chest aching with something you couldn’t name.

“I wish this was my entire life,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Sevika.

She turned to you, her brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, gesturing to your sister. “Taking care of her. Taking care of my daughter with my wife. No illness, no bills piling up, no—” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard. “No worries. Just a quiet life.”

Sevika didn’t respond right away. When you finally looked at her, her face was so soft in a way you knew was probably a rarity. Her prosthetic raised in an aborted motion, as if she’d thought to touch your face.

“I could take care of you, baby,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her lips like a promise.

Your breath caught, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

“Come back with me, [Name],” she said, her voice low and steady. “Stay with me and Melly. Bring [Sister’s Name]. You don’t have to do it alone all the time.”

The fantasy of her words pressed against your chest, warm and overwhelming. For a moment, you let yourself imagine it: her, Melly, your sister, a life where the world's heaviness couldn’t crush you.

Your sister called out from the water, waving a piece of driftwood she’d found, and the moment broke. Sevika’s hand brushed yours, solid and grounding, and when you turned back to her, her eyes were still on you, waiting.

The tide lapped at the shore, the sound mingling with your sister’s laughter, and you felt a rising pulse in your mouth, on your tongue.

“They do fireworks at the docks. You have to pay, but we sneak in all the time. You wanna see?”

“Sure,” Sevika said.

The answer came so easily and you knew she’d give you everything. Maybe even love you forever. The thought made you tingle and you dug your toes into the sand.

“Let’s go,” you said, your pinky twisting around hers.

You both knew you weren’t talking about the fireworks.

With a wry smile she rose and set about taking you home again.

Your sister—forever your baby—was curled fast asleep in the back seat of Sevika’s car by the time you pulled out of the lot, her face slack with the kind of peace only children seemed capable of. Her soft snores filled the space between you as Sevika drove back to your grandmother’s house, the streets quiet and warm, lit faintly by streetlights. The evening air hung heavy, sticking to your skin like a second layer.

You glanced at Sevika as she drove, her profile lit in flashes by the passing lights. Her grip on the wheel was loose, but her fingers drummed absently against the leather, her thoughts somewhere else. Maybe with you.

You wondered if she was nervous. You wondered if she knew how much you were.

“She’s out like a light,” Sevika murmured, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Guess it’s just us.”

You swallowed, your fingers playing with the hem of your cover-up, and nodded. “Just us.”

Your aunt was waiting on the porch when you arrived. She was perched on the railing, her vape glowing faintly in the dark. You knew the scent without looking: cucumber, apple, and sour cherry.

Her sharp gaze moved between the two of you as Sevika carried your sister inside, her long stride easy and steady despite the weight of the little girl in her arms.

“Enjoyed your family outing?” Aunt Kenna asked, teasing but pointed, as you lingered by the door.

You blinked at her, startled, heat rising in your cheeks. “It wasn’t like that.”

She snorted, taking a long drag. “Sure it wasn’t .”

❀

The docks were quieter than you expected when you arrived. Most of the families had settled in their little corners, kids running barefoot across the wooden planks, their laughter echoing into the open sky. The air smelled of pear, peach blossoms, and distant charcoal grills, a mix of sugar and fire that felt like the very essence of where you’d been born and raised. 

Sevika parked far enough away to avoid the crowd but close enough for you to see the shimmering reflections of the boats swaying in the dark water. She leaned back against the hood of her car, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and watched as you wandered closer to the edge, the creamy orange of your tiny bikini glowing faintly in the dim light.

You should’ve been illegal.

“Careful, angel,” she called, her voice warm, fond. “You fall in, I’m not jumping after you.”

You turned, smirking, the breeze tugging at the bow sitting pretty in the middle of your full breasts. 

“I can swim.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to fish you out,” she said, but her smile gave her away. She was watching you so intently, her gaze loaded, as if committing you to memory.

You walked back toward her, your arms wrapped around yourself, and stopped just a foot away. The tension between you was almost tangible now, electric. You could feel it humming in the air, in the way her eyes lingered on the curve of your wide hips, the dip of your collarbone. It made your breath hitch.

“I’ve always loved the docks,” you said softly. “They feel… timeless. Like you could stand here forever and nothing would change.”

Sevika hummed, tilting her head to look up at you. “You think that’s a good thing?”

You shrugged, your lips curving faintly. 

“Sometimes.”

The first firework burst above you then, a bloom of pink and gold that lit up the sky and reflected off the water. A shock of red followed shortly after. You both looked up, the moment suspended, the sound of the explosion echoing in your chest.

You glanced at Sevika, her face bathed in the soft glow of the fireworks, and felt something shift inside you. Something undeniable.

The show continued, and you moved to lean against the hood of her car. The metal was warm and your stomach was buzzing at the nearness of Sevika’s broad body.

By the time the fireworks were halfway through, you couldn’t focus on them anymore. The loud bursts of color seemed secondary to the way Sevika was lounging next to you, her broad shoulders relaxed, her eyes soaking in the way goosebumps bubbled along your arms. It felt like she was daring you to do something, to cross the line you’d been dancing around since she’d swept you off the highway.

You moved closer, your bare feet brushing against hers, and she straightened slightly, her head listing to the side as she watched you.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice low.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. 

“I’m thinking…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the sides of your bikini bottom. “I’m thinking this feels… nice.”

Her lips quirked, just slightly, but her gaze was serious. “Nice?”

“So good,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel… safe with you. Things are perfect like this, and—and I’m probably never gonna feel this way again.”

The words hung between you, honest and raw, and you could see the way they landed on her, the way her expression softened, her guard slipping for just a moment.

“I’d never hurt you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “You know that, right?”

You nodded, stepping even closer until you were standing between her legs, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. “I know.”

You didn’t, really. She could be selling you a paper thin dream. But your hope had always been the largest part of you. It spurred the flame you felt for her, your aching burning desire to be with her all the time. To ride by her side without question. 

Her hand came up then, hesitating for just a second before settling on your waist. The touch was light, almost cautious, but it sent an electric current straight through you.

“Sevika,” you whispered, your voice stumbling.

She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your cheek. 

“Yeah?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you, your lips brushing against hers in a kiss that felt just right, like the tide meeting the shore. Your body lit up, and you collapsed into her—trusting and free. 

She stilled for a moment, as if surprised, but then her hand tightened on your waist and she kissed you back, slow and deliberate.

The world seemed to fade then, the fireworks a distant, glittering symphony in the black sky. All you could feel was her—her warmth, her strength, the way she seemed determined to hold you together even as you felt like you might fall apart.

When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in weak gasps, lightheaded and aching to faint, she rested her forehead against yours, searching your dilated eyes.

Your lip gloss was smeared across Sevika’s jaw, leaving a streak of shimmering peach and rose that caught in the fleeting light of the evening. It clung to her skin, soft and vivid As she moved, the stain glistened faintly, the contrast against her sharp, weathered features sending a slow, aching thrill down your spine. 

It was yours, this faint, glittering mark, lingering in the space where your mouth had been. She made no effort to remove it.

“Angel,” she murmured, her voice rough. “You sure about this?”

You nodded, your hands clutching at her shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she pressed another searing kiss to your lips. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Let’s get in the car.”

❀

Your palm slapped hard against the roof, your teeth almost tearing through your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a loud moan. 

Beneath you, Sevika gripped the copious flesh of your ass as she sucked at your clit. 

“Oh, shit, Sevika. Fuck.”

In the beginning you were so careful, worried about blocking her airway. With a hard slap to your ass she pulled you down, relentless in taking all of you. 

“Hnnnnnh,” you whimpered. “Sevi, fuuuuuck.”

Sevika hummed in satisfaction at that. As she watched your face she grazed your clit with her teeth, relishing in how you arched. 

You were so warm and supple between her fingers, your pussy slobbering over her nose and mouth. You tasted so good, so musky and honeyed. She never wanted to let you go. 

Slowly, she slide you down and pressed you down to her chest as she undid your bikini top so that your tits spilled eagerly against her own. She then tenderly tucked two fingers inside of you, cooing as you whined at the stretch. 

She began to bounce you by the fabric of your bottoms, forcing you to ride her fingers until they were covered in the thin film of your wetness. You moaned at her strength, at how easily she’d decided how you’d take her. 

“Good fucking girl. So sweet, aren’t you, baby? Hmm?”

“Sevi, please. Just—just a little faster.”

She grinned meanly, inserting a third finger and curling them—raking cruelly against your g-spot. You sank further into her, swiveling your hips if only to get her deeper. To take her harder. Your pussy was weeping, emptying itself onto her hand.

“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re leaking all over me. ‘M never gonna get this out of these seats.”

“Good,” you breathed out, smiling impishly.

Sevika’s eyes darkened and she suddenly rearranged you till you were on your back against the leather seats, your legs wholly spread. she lowered between them, licking a long stripe up to your clit experimentally. 

She had you soft and loose. You didn’t realize just how spacious this car was.

You moaned, high and loud, snapping into an arch until you were forced to come back down, Sevika’s arm holding your hips firmly. Your eyes were closed now, and your eyelids were no longer just black, explosions of color staining them, ripping through you.

Sevika lapped at you, taking her time but still intentional with the way she touched you. She used a hand to spread you apart burying her face into her pussy, her nose becoming wet again with your rabid need. She became messy, moving her head back and forth, slurping at you until you were almost shaking, on the edge of something greater.

Settling back just slightly, she spat harshly into your cunt and rubbed it into your clit, pressing down until it was close to painful. You couldn’t breathe correctly. You couldn’t even remember your name.

"Sevi. Sevi. Mommy, oh my fucking God.“

Sevika said nothing, just caught a lip of your cunt between her teeth, biting down as she slid her fingers back in.

"Unh," is what you had to add to the nonexistent conversation and Sevika grinned against you.

She spread her fingers and then curled them, dragging your hips into her lap as she sat up. You couldn’t feel your fucking legs.

"Yes. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. It feels so fucking good."

Sevika was driven and vicious, determined to eat away at the woman beneath her. You curved your back as your orgasm approached, determined to feel it all the way up in the cavern of your mouth. You needed this.

Sevika leaned over you, tilting your head down so that you were looking at one another.

"I want you to keep looking at me as you cum."

You made a faint noise of agreement and clutched at Sevika’s arms. She took your hands and placed them underneath your knees, so that you could hold yourself open. It spread you apart until she was able to view how pink and puffy you were. 

“I can’t wait to get you in bed, honey. ‘M gonna bend you over, open that tight little cunt with my cock, and watch you swallow me.”

“Oh.” You let a little groan of satisfaction as she thumbed at your clit. 

Sevika pressed your foreheads together and thumbed at your mouth. You felt both here and there, brain blanking. 

“Ohh,” she mocked you with a slight smile. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You cast your head back as Sevika returned her mouth to your pussy, suckling at it in combination with her fingers carving a space deep inside of you.

"Come on, angel," she urged. "Be good for me."

You were trying, goddamnit.

"Gonna take a photo of this creamy cunt. Show Melly, tell her that I did this. That you let me."

You let out a high whine, and she nodded in faux sympathy.

“Mmm? Is that what you want to do? Want me to take you to that shitty club and spread you open on stage? Stake my claim?”

A fourth finger now. Her voice dropped as if telling you a secret.

“Maybe I’ll slide some cold, hard cash into this slutty cunt, stretch that slit.” Faster now. Your toes curled. “ Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy just wants to slut you out.”

She pressed a delicate kiss to your cunt and you were unsure if what came next was just the slam of your hand against the door echoing or another firework going off. 

All you knew was that the world around you was roaring, that she refused to stop. All you knew was her digging into you. 

You imploded.

❀

The drive back was quiet, the tension between you still palpable but softer now, sated and sleepy. Sevika reached over once, her fingers brushing against your cheek and you shifted, pressing the petals of your lips into the center of her palm without hesitation.

When you finally pulled into your grandmother’s driveway, the house bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, you turned to her, your heart full to bursting.

“Stay,” you said, your emotions splayed wide open. “Just for a little while.”

She looked at you for a long moment, and then she nodded. “Okay.”

You both knew it wasn’t just for a little while.

❀ 

The house smelled like hibiscus and coffee when you walked in, the faint scent of six-dollar soy candles lingering in the corners. Your aunt was at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water, her curls pinned back with a clip. She turned when she heard the door creak open, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Sevika trailing behind you, broad-shouldered and quiet.  

“You brought her back?” she asked, not in a disparaging manner, though her tone carried the weight of an older woman who’d seen it all.

“[Sister’s Name] forgot something in her car,” you lied easily, gesturing toward said alibi, who was peeking into the kitchen while rubbing a fist over her eye, her drowsy greeting muffled as she dragged her blanket behind her.  

Your aunt didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue either. Instead, she flicked her chin toward the counter. 

“If she’s staying, she may as well help.”  

Sevika looked at you, one brow arched slightly in amusement. You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the idea of her folding herself into your life—even for something as mundane as this—made your stomach swoop. 

The kitchen was broiling, almost unbearably so, with the old oven humming faintly and the humidity from the day still clinging to the walls. Sevika rolled up her sleeves, revealing the curve of her forearms, the prosthetic gleaming faintly in the soft overhead light. 

You tried not to stare, but your eyes kept drifting—over the way her hands moved as she dried the dishes your aunt handed her, the faint flex of muscle under her skin.  

“You ever wash a dish before?” your aunt asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.  

“Plenty,” Sevika admitted, her voice low and even. “Did a couple restaurant stints when I first came to this place. I was hoping to never do that shit again.”  

You bit back a smile, ducking your head as you reached for a towel to dry the counter. The space felt smaller with her in it, her silhouette filling every corner, her quick movements electric.  

Your aunt glanced between the two of you, her gaze lingering on Sevika before she handed her another plate. 

“You’re a hard worker. Good. She needs someone who can keep up.”  

Sevika’s lips quirked, but she didn’t respond, her attention focused on the task in front of her.  

The radio crackled faintly from the corner, playing some old Cuban bolero your aunt loved, and you found yourself swaying slightly as you worked, the rhythm infectious. You caught Sevika watching you out of the corner of her eye, her gaze soft but intent, and your cheeks warmed.  

“You dance to this too?” she asked, her voice pitched low enough that your aunt didn’t catch it.  

“Sometimes,” you said, keeping your focus on the counter. “Not for free, though.”  

She chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “Figures.”  

Your aunt, oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension that weaved itself between you, turned to Sevika with a clean dish in hand. 

“Rinse this for me, would you? And don’t let her distract you—she’s been trouble since she could fucking walk.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sevika said, glancing at you with a spark of amusement in her eyes.  

The night wore on, the kitchen growing quieter as your aunt finally finished and stepped out to check on your sister. You stayed behind, leaning against the counter as Sevika dried her hands on a threadbare patch of towel. 

“I can’t believe you were hustling in restaurants,” you said, nodding toward the sink.  

She smirked, tossing the towel onto the counter. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be a delight.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

 “Thanks for helping.”  

“Anytime,” she said, her voice softening slightly.  

You watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders seemed less tense now, the way her hair caught the light. The memory of her hands on you earlier still lingered, watering over your skin. It was a secret only the two of you shared.  

“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she stepped closer.  

You nodded, though your chest felt tight, your pulse thrumming in your ears. 

“Yeah. Just a little tired.”  

Her hand brushed yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. She noticed, her gaze dropping to where your fingers nearly touched before she pulled back, her jaw tightening.  

“We should get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you murmured, though you didn’t move.  

For a moment, neither of you did, the hum of the radio the only sound in the room. Then she stepped back, giving you space you didn’t want, and you let her.  

❀

Your bedroom felt much like the inside of a shell—quiet and strange, the air soaked with a mixture of rose, magnolia, and something darker, something that sat low in your chest. You could still taste the golden slices of your childhood, still feel the ache in your ribs that came from building elaborate forts. 

But now there was Sevika, solid and steady beneath you.

As soon as the door had closed, she’d taken you apart slowly, carefully, as though she’d known you needed it to feel stable again. 

The rough pads of her fingers, the soft murmur of her voice, the way she called you princess like it was the only name you’d ever had. And you had suffered in silence, hand across your mouth as you clenched and shook around her head for the third time, then the fourth. 

You’d finally tired after a good ride on her thigh, holding on desperately to the nape of neck. Her baby hair was soft there, tender. She came when you kissed her nose, slid down to her mouth, and called her beautiful. She’d whimpered, bucked awkwardly around your fingers, and you held her to you as you whispered her name. 

You’d looked it up in the bathroom. Sevika. Of Indian and Sanskrit origin. Servant of God. 

Now, she lay between your legs, her head resting heavy and warm against your stomach. The weight of her felt magical, made your body feel more virginal than it ever had been, and you sighed lowly as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting pale gold stripes across her back. 

The swan wings stretched with her every move, the feathers catching flight as she breathed. Muted ivory and soft grays leaned tenderly into the faintest hints of lavender and navy blue, the delicate gradient of ink glowing against her deep, bronze skin.

You reached out, tracing the curve of a wing’s tip near her shoulder blade. The ink felt warm under your fingertips, her skin soft but unyielding. The swan’s head, nestled at the base of her neck where the wings met, was elegant and sharp, its eyes bright as if they could see into you. You followed the line of its neck with your thumb, your touch lingering at the place where her spine dipped, and she hummed low in her throat, a sound that vibrated through your body.

She tilted her head, her cheek brushing against the softness of your belly as her eyes opened slowly, sleep still heavy in her gaze. 

“You like it?” she murmured, voice rough and low.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

You had already said this, and the reminder made you blush in embarrassment. A slow, lopsided smile tugged at her lips, and she closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into you as if she belonged there. You felt her hand slide up to rest on your thigh, her fingers splayed against your skin, holding you in place like she was afraid you’d disappear into the rising morning.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you flinched at the sound, the world outside pressing back in. Sevika didn’t move, just let her hand trail lazily up your spine as you reached for it. The screen glowed with messages from your aunt:  

aunt kenna 𓆉: Couldn’t get anyone to cover the rest of my shifts this week. aunt kenna 𓆉: Mom’s still kicking. She’s getting stronger. aunt kenna 𓆉: Ty for coming home. See you soon. Love you, bug x 

Still alive, you thought. The words lit up something inside you, bright and raw and impossible to contain. You laughed, the sound catching on the edge of a sob, and dropped the phone onto the bed.

“What is it?” Sevika asked, her voice filling with concern.

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. The words tangled in your throat. Instead, you turned to her, your fingers trembling as they found her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her full mouth. 

“She’s still alive,” you whispered, the words spilling out like a prayer.

Her eyes softened, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice steady, certain. “She’s a strong woman, just like the rest of you.”

The relief hit you all at once, sharp and overwhelming, and you kissed her because you couldn’t think of anything else to do. It was messy and desperate, your hands fisting in her hair as you tried to pour every unspoken thing into her mouth. She let you, her body surrendering to its basest urges . 

“Still alive,” you repeated, this time against her lips, your forehead resting against hers as your tears slipped silently onto her skin. 

“Mmhmm,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, her hands steady on your hips. “You’re all gonna live forever.”

You kissed her again, because you needed to. You needed her. 

You believed her. 

And the truth was you didn’t know how good it would get for the two (five) of you. 

You’d look back, let go, lose this part of things. Take your baby sister and leave.

You’d still be you, but you'd be free.

taglist: @miles-42-morales @indigopearl96 @marvelwomenarehot0 @vintagelotus345 @queen-simone @uronlymiaa @namuranguinhos @femlesbianbarbie @femme-historian @vikaswife @powderpinkandsweeet @drgnflyteabox @icespiceluva @theirlaliengirl @supermanwifey @nkeyaaa @batmanslittlelover @strawberrykidneystone @shimmerstraps

© hcneymooners

[mingi-s-dimples]

Save the best for last - OT8 ATEEZ

KINKTOBER DAY 30, REQ. BY anon (last day!!!)

~"domot8 x freader where atz is mafia/ceo! reader is in a relationship with san but they are both okay in letting the other members join in the fun..;) however san likes to talk dirty in a way with hints of possessiveness to remind reader even though the other 7 fucks her, she’s still his hehe he also loves watching the members wreck the reader btw…. pls make it as filthy and kinky as possible! really go crazy with it! some ideas(if it helps-i hope it’s no burden): dirty talk, hair pulling, spit, multiple creampies, dp, squirting, exhibitionism, voyeur, choking, big dick!, bulge kink, mirror sex(?) and so on….. 😅" - I hope it's crazy enough for you anon.. for me it sure was 😂🤍

pairing: bf mafia ceo!san x gf fem!reader x ot7 (the other members) subordinates of San

genre: 18+, pure filth, gang bang

summary: San's men want to have your way with you and ask for permission and.. when San also sees you'd be eager to do it, he saves himself for last only to remind you who you had always belonged to.

wc: 8.4k (I am so sorry I went fucking overboard 🧍‍♀️)

warnings: okay prepare, mafia!au, gang bang, foursome, 5some, double penetration, multiple creampies, dirty talk/degradation (only from San), she sucks two at the same time, she takes two&two at the same time (hence the 5some), spitting, hair pulling, mirror sex, exhibitionism, dacryphilia. voyeurism, possesiveness at its finest, choking, big dick!san, bulge kink, squirting, lots of cummm, unprotected, for sure forgot something (it's 4:40 am at the time I post this), completely consensual, will definitely edit later.

Author's Note: Oh my fucking god holy fuck this was a damn ride. It was INTENSE. I went damn overboard with some of the details upsi, I had to. Gave everyone at least some attention 🤗 no one was left out (poor reader fr). This is my first ot8 fic. I hope you enjoy this, love u anon and I'm so sorry I am 2 months late 💀💀💀 life was erratic. Oh and.. Merry Christmas, everyone! Fluff fic coming right after this menace. From one extreme to another I guess 💀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and doesn't represent the reality of the members in any way.

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of San’s office. Late evening sunlight poured into the room, bathing everything in golden hues as you perched on the edge of his sleek, black desk. Your legs swung idly, the sound of your heels lightly tapping against the wooden surface filling the otherwise quiet room.

San sat behind his desk, engrossed in the papers spread before him. His sharp black suit hugged his frame perfectly, exuding authority as he worked in focused silence. You let your gaze drift over him, taking in the way his jaw tightened every so often when he read something he didn’t like. Even when he was deep in work, San had a presence that could dominate a room without him uttering a single word.

But today, you weren’t in the mood to let him bury himself in paperwork.

“San,” you called, dragging out his name in a playful lilt.

His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, a flicker of amusement flashing in them before he resumed scanning the document in his hands. “Yes, darling?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, though there was a clear undertone of distraction.

You leaned forward, resting your palms on the cool surface of his desk, your tone turning teasing. “You’ve been working all day. Don’t you think you deserve a break?”

San’s lips curved into a small smirk as he set the papers down and leaned back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest. “Is that so? And what exactly do you suggest I do on this ‘break,’ hmm?”

You feigned a thoughtful expression, tapping your chin dramatically. “Well… I could think of a few things.”

Before he could respond, the door to his office suddenly swung open, breaking the charged atmosphere between you. The sound made you jump slightly, and you instinctively straightened up, your gaze snapping to the intruders.

The other seven members of the group filed in one by one, their casual but confident demeanor filling the room with a new kind of energy.

“Interrupting something?” Jongho’s voice was the first to break the silence, his eyebrow raised as his eyes darted between you and San.

San’s expression didn’t falter, though the slight twitch of his jaw gave away his irritation. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied coolly, leaning back further in his chair.

Wooyoung, ever the bold one, grinned as he sauntered over to the desk, his sharp gaze flicking over you with clear amusement. “Doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’ though,” he teased, leaning casually against the edge of the desk beside you.

“Wooyoung,” San said, his tone holding a warning, though his posture remained relaxed.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Wooyoung’s antics. “Do you ever know when to stop?” you asked, though your tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Not really,” Wooyoung admitted with a wink, his grin widening.

The rest of the members settled into the room, each finding a spot to sit or lean as the tension in the air shifted. You could feel their eyes on you, curiosity and mischief glinting in their gazes. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic energy they all carried; it was part of what made them so formidable as a group.

“Do we have business to discuss, or did you all just come to disrupt my evening?” San asked, his tone laced with dry humor as he gestured for them to get on with whatever they came for.

Hongjoong stepped forward, ever the leader, his expression calm but knowing. “We wrapped up the last deal earlier than expected, so we thought we’d drop by,” he said smoothly, though the subtle smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his intentions.

“And by ‘drop by,’ you mean make yourselves comfortable in my office?” San quipped, his gaze flicking between them.

Yeosang, who had been silent until now, let out a soft chuckle. “You can’t blame us, though. You’re the one who keeps all the interesting things hidden in here.”

His words carried a double meaning that wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you glanced at San, who still looked completely unbothered, though his hand had started to drum lightly against the desk.

Seonghwa, ever the smooth talker, decided to chime in. “You know, San,” he began, his tone light but calculated, “for someone who’s so protective, you seem awfully relaxed about leaving her alone with us.”

San’s smirk returned, his dark eyes locking onto Seonghwa’s. “Relaxed? Who said I was relaxed?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Then again,” Wooyoung piped up, his grin downright mischievous now, “maybe you’re not as possessive as we thought.”

The words hung in the air, the challenge in them clear. You glanced at San, curious to see how he would respond. To your surprise, he leaned back in his chair again, his expression calm but dangerous.

“Possessive?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement. “Oh, I am. Make no mistake about that.”

His gaze shifted to you, his eyes softening slightly. “But I also trust her. And I trust all of you… to a degree.”

The unspoken invitation in his words made your breath catch. The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his statement sinking in before the playful tension returned.

“Well,” Hongjoong said, breaking the silence, “that’s quite the declaration.”

San’s smirk widened, his confidence unshakable. “It’s not a declaration. It’s a fact.”

The others exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from amusement to intrigue.

“Does that mean we can—” Wooyoung began, but San cut him off with a raised hand.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said, though his tone was more teasing than serious. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the glint of amusement in them. “After all, it’s not entirely up to me, is it?”

The attention in the room shifted to you, and you suddenly felt the weight of their gazes. San’s question was clear—this was your choice as much as it was his.

Your mind raced, the charged atmosphere making it difficult to think clearly. But as you looked at San, his calm confidence grounding you, you realized that you trusted him completely.

“Well,” you began, your voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through you, “I think… it could be interesting.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment before the room erupted in a mixture of laughter and teasing remarks. San’s smirk turned into a full grin as he reached out to take your hand, pulling you closer to him.

“Interesting, huh?” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You nodded, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “As long as you’re okay with it,” you added, your voice soft but sincere.

San’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “I’m more than okay with it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The room buzzed with excitement as the others began to discuss the details, their playful banter filling the space. But your focus remained on San, his steady presence anchoring you as you stepped into uncharted territory together.

The tension in the room grew thicker as San gave the subtlest nod, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand cupped your cheek tenderly, grounding you amidst the teasing grins and playful energy that radiated from the others. The question in his gaze was quiet but clear: *Do you trust me?*

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but laced with certainty.

San’s lips curled into a soft, almost mischievous smile. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then let us take care of you.”

Yunho was the first to move, his large hands brushing over your shoulders as he leaned down to meet your gaze, his warmth both reassuring and electrifying. “You really are something special, you know that?” he said, his voice honeyed with praise. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but only if you’re ready.” His thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your skin, his touch comforting yet deliberate.

Mingi crouched next to you, his height even now making him an imposing figure. His grin was boyish, yet his tone carried a teasing edge. “San really is lucky, isn’t he? But I think tonight, you’re luckier.” His fingers brushed against your hand, holding it loosely as if offering silent reassurance. “We’re going to treat you like the queen you are.”

Their words made heat rise to your cheeks, and you felt San’s hand slide from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. His presence was a calming anchor even as the others moved around you with measured anticipation. “Remember,” San murmured into your ear, his tone a mix of possessiveness and care, “you can stop this anytime. But if you trust me, just let go.”

Your heartbeat quickened, but you nodded, the warmth in his voice giving you courage.

Hongjoong’s voice cut through the moment, calm and composed but carrying an edge of excitement. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, his sharp gaze locking with yours. “Just follow our lead.”

Together, they began to guide you, their movements deliberate yet unhurried. San was the one to lift your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He murmured, his voice steady, “Let them see the side of you only I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.”

Your shirt was the first to go, the fabric slipping from your shoulders under Mingi’s deft touch. He let out a low whistle, his eyes twinkling with admiration but never crossing into disrespect. “You’re stunning,” he said, his voice reverent. Yunho, standing behind you now, pressed a hand to your lower back, his touch firm yet gentle.

Yeosang’s quiet presence was next to catch your attention. He knelt beside you, his fingers brushing over your wrist as if asking permission before helping with the next piece of clothing.

The air buzzed with anticipation, but no one rushed you. Each movement, each touch, was careful and deliberate, designed to put you at ease. San stayed close, his hand a constant presence on your waist or shoulder, his protective nature evident even now. “You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice rich with affection.

Mingi’s teasing came back as he tilted his head, his eyes raking over you with playful admiration. “You’ve been hiding all this from us?” he joked, though his tone carried genuine awe. “Not fair.”

“She’s breathtaking,” Yunho agreed, his voice warm as his hand brushed against your arm. “San’s been keeping the best things to himself.”

San smirked, his possessiveness flickering through despite the shared moment. “Don’t forget,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, though his eyes softened as they met yours. “She’s still mine.”

Wooyoung laughed, breaking the tension with his lighthearted energy. “We know, we know,” he said, throwing his hands up dramatically. “We’re just borrowing her for tonight.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, the sound breaking through your initial nervousness.

As they continued to undress you piece by piece, the warmth of their attention made your skin tingle. Every movement was accompanied by a murmur of praise, a gentle touch, or a soft reassurance. They were in no rush, savoring every moment and ensuring you felt cherished and adored.

San knelt beside you as the last piece of fabric was removed, his hand cupping your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much love it made your heart ache. “And you’re safe.”

The others watched the intimate moment, their respect for San’s bond with you evident in their quiet stillness. When he finally pulled back, his smirk returned, his possessive streak shining through. “But don’t forget who you belong to,” he added, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip once more.

As you settled back against the desk, the warmth of their gazes enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of heat flow through you.

San’s voice was the last thing you heard before they began. “Let us show you just how much you mean to us.”

The living room was bathed in warm golden light, the soft hum of conversation filling the air. As the group carried you from the office to the shared space, their laughter and teasing remarks created a sense of playful camaraderie. The room, spacious yet intimate, had an air of familiarity that contrasted with the charged tension lingering among them.

They gently set you down on the large sectional couch, its plush cushions yielding to your weight. Wooyoung leaned over from one side, his mischievous grin ever-present as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Look at her," he mused, his voice a touch lower than usual, "so perfect and so pretty like this."

Mingi, who stood behind you, chuckled softly. "She’s even more stunning up close," he said, his large hands resting lightly on the back of the couch. His eyes glimmered with mischief, though there was a noticeable gentleness to his movements. From the corner of your eye, you could see Hongjoong to your right, already rolling up his sleeves, his sharp gaze focused entirely on you.

San remained standing near the edge of the room, his arms crossed but his expression unreadable. The corners of his lips twitched upward slightly as the three members began to close in. "Remember who’s in charge," he said smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmurs. "You can admire her, but don’t forget that she’s mine."

Wooyoung smirked, exchanging a glance with Mingi and Hongjoong. "Of course, hyung. But you wouldn’t mind if we… made her feel special, right?" he teased, his voice playful yet testing boundaries.

San’s dark eyes flicked toward you, searching your expression. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly, his tone steady and grounding amidst the lighthearted chaos. His gaze held yours firmly, waiting for your answer.

You nodded without hesitation, your voice barely a whisper. "I trust you, San."

A satisfied hum left his lips. "Good." He gestured with a slight nod, granting the others permission to proceed. "Don’t forget—she’s precious. Treat her that way."

Wooyoung, ever the bold one, began by brushing his lips lightly along your temple, his fingers trailing down your arm in feather-light strokes. "Precious is an understatement," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver through you.

Mingi leaned in from behind, his hands settling on your shoulders. His touch was firm but reassuring, a contrast to Wooyoung’s teasing.

Hongjoong’s approach was quieter but no less impactful. He crouched beside you, his sharp eyes scanning your face for any signs of discomfort. His hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a silent gesture of reassurance.

As the three surrounded you, their touches and presence seemed to envelop you entirely. Wooyoung tilted your chin upward, his lips ghosting along your jawline before trailing to your collarbone. Mingi’s hands, broad and warm, began to massage your shoulders, easing any lingering tension. Meanwhile, Hongjoong traced idle patterns on the back of your hand, his quiet attention grounding you amidst the overwhelming sensations.

The other four—Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho—watched from the nearby armchairs, their expressions varying from amusement to curiosity. Yunho leaned back casually, his long legs stretched out as he exchanged knowing smirks with Seonghwa. "They’re starting strong," Yunho remarked, his deep voice laced with humor.

"Can you blame them?" Seonghwa replied, his tone lighter than usual. His sharp features softened as his gaze flitted toward you, a hint of fondness in his otherwise composed demeanor. "She has that effect."

Yeosang tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "San’s holding back more than I expected," he mused, his words eliciting a chuckle from Jongho, who simply nodded in agreement.

San, still standing apart from the group, exuded a quiet authority. Despite the teasing commentary from the others, his eyes never left you. "Remember your place," he reminded the group lightly, though there was no malice in his tone. "She’s mine to love and protect."

"And tease," Wooyoung quipped, pulling back briefly to glance at San. "You said it yourself, hyung. She’s precious. We’re just appreciating her beauty."

San raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting back to you. "Just don’t forget who she belongs to," he said finally, his voice calm but firm.

As if to emphasize his words, Wooyoung leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Even with all of us here, you’re still his, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with playful reverence.

The room was growing warmer, the air thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse between everyone present. The soft rustling of fabric caught your attention, and your eyes flicked over to the four members who had been watching from the sidelines. Slowly, one by one, they began to shed their shirts, their toned torsos coming into view. Each movement was deliberate, as though they wanted to savor every second of this shared moment.

Yunho, the tallest of the group, was the first to approach, his steps unhurried and confident. His broad shoulders and defined chest were illuminated by the soft light of the living room. His gaze flicked down to you, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I think it’s our turn now," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver through you.

Seonghwa followed closely behind, his elegant movements almost hypnotic. His sharp features softened slightly as he looked down at you, a gentle fondness in his expression. "Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice smooth and calming. "We’ll take good care of you."

Behind them, Yeosang and Jongho exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. Yeosang, with his quiet intensity, began to unbuckle his belt, his fingers moving with a casual ease. Jongho, ever the composed one, ran a hand through his dark hair before stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

The three members who had been close to you—Wooyoung, Mingi, and Hongjoong—reluctantly backed off, their hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer before they stepped away. They moved to the side, their breathing still heavy as they watched the scene unfold. Each of them began to undress, their movements slower than necessary as if they wanted you to notice every detail.

Wooyoung leaned casually against the armrest of the couch, his bare torso gleaming under the soft light. "We’ll let them have their fun," he said, his voice teasing. "But don’t forget—we’re next."

Mingi crossed his arms over his chest, his sharp jawline set as he watched intently. "Take your time," he added, though the hunger in his gaze betrayed his impatience.

San remained standing apart from the group, his suit still perfectly in place. The contrast between his composed exterior and the evident strain in his pants was almost too much to bear. His dark eyes drank in every detail of the scene, from the way you sat on the couch, your hands trembling slightly, to the way the members circled you like predators waiting for their moment to strike.

You glanced up at San. His lips curved into a small, approving smile. "Enjoy yourself," he said softly, his voice steady despite the clear tension in his posture. "But remember who you belong to."

The four of them seemed to come to a silent agreement, their eyes flicking between each other as they decided how to proceed. Finally, Yunho spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the quiet tension. "Let’s start simple," he suggested, his gaze dropping to your hands.

"Two and two," Jongho added, his voice steady. His dark eyes softened slightly as he looked at you. "If that’s okay with you."

You nodded, your heart racing as they took their places. Yunho and Yeosang each took each of your hands, their fingers brushing against yours as they guided your movements. Their touches were firm but gentle, their eyes never leaving yours as they made sure you were comfortable. They took off their pants completely, followed by their briefs. Their cocks sprung out and your hands instinctively went for their lengths. You looked up at them, then down at the position you were in. Legs slightly spread out, your cunt dripping with arousal on the blanket that was on the couch, the two men in front of you and their cocks in your hands. You took a deep breath and started to move your hands, stroking their lengths slowly, at first. Yunho's cock was already dripping with pre cum, making the perfect lube for his hand. For Yeosang, you spit in your hand and started lubing it up. He quietly groaned at the sensation, satisfied with your way of lubing him.

“Yes… that's it, sweetheart..” Yunho whispered, his head slowly falling back as your hand started to move more rapidly, your thumb rubbing over the tip, putting pressure on it.

Yeosang was already out of it, his breath heavy as he was hardly holding back from pushing your hand further on his cock. He waited and waited until he couldn't anymore.

“Fuck it..” his hand hand hovered over your head, hesitating for a moment. He looked at you and tried to back up, but Yunho interrupted his move.

“That's such.. a great idea, Yeosang..” he said, his eyes gazing over you. “But only if y/n and San are good with it, of course…” he said and all 3 of you looked at San. He suddenly had his pants unbuckled, his hard cock straining against his briefs. He nodded, his hand now lazily rubbing it through the cloth. He was turned the fuck on with this situation, the fact that he was observing you so patiently, waiting for his men to have their fun with you and use you as they pleased, as their fuck toy.

“Boss is okay with it.. but are you, y/n?” Yeosang said, his hand hovering softly over your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Y-yes..” you whispered and he didn't hesitate any further, his hand guiding your mouth to his cock. You instinctively started sucking on the dripping tip, kissing and licking circles all around, from the tip to the base of his cock then all along his shaft. As you sucked him off up and down slurping and putting pressure with your tongue and lips on the tip, his hand slowly started pushing your head on his cock. He let you get used to his size, your lips stretching slightly as he pushed further.

“Ah fuck, Yunho.. her mouth feels so good.. you gotta-you gotta try this” Yeosang said breathless, catching the other men's attention. Yunho smirked and waited for his turn.

Aa you bobbed your head up and down on Yeosang’s cock and stroked your hand on Yunho's on your left, you started to focus on making Yeosang cum first so you could suck Yunho off, too. Within a few more licks of your tongue and hard sucking on the tip he came down your throat, making you slightly choke on his huge load. Yunho chuckled, satisfied at the view of you choking and couldn't content his excitement at being sucked off by you, that he slowly moved Yeosang from your face - who was panting still - and harshly tilted your chin up so that you could take his cock in your mouth.

“Can I join in, too?” Jongho said, his cock already heavy and dripping in his hand.

You nodded briefly while sucking on Yunho's cock and he joined in… but he didn't joke when he said he'd *join in*. He made his way right in front of you and switched places with Yunho for a moment until he was satisfied, then after you sucked him off for a moment he exchanged glances with Yunho and they came to a silent agreement. Yunho, *slowly* made the tip of his cock fit at the same time with Jongho's and you started to suck both simultaneously.

Yunho’s hand tangled in your hair, barely resisting from mouth fucking you. He softly pulled you towards his pelvis, both cocks filling up your mouth good. Jongho whined at the sensation, his head lolling back in pleasure.

“Yeah.. that’s it, darling..” Jongho said, his ragged breath giving away the fact that he was damn close. Yunho was too, his hand pulling your hair softly backwards only to thrust powerfully in your mouth. Each of them fucked your mouth prettily until they came down your throat, filling your mouth with their cum. Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being stretched by their cocks only amplifying the pleasure and arousal growing in your belly.. and between your legs.

You had just finished with Jongho and Yunho, your hands still trembling slightly as they stepped back, their satisfied expressions lingering as they caught their breath. The room was filled with a heavy scent. As they backed away, the other four men—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung—moved forward, their eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of hunger and anticipation. The air grew heavier, the tension palpable as they closed in on you, ready to claim their turn.

But before they could make their move, a voice that brooked no argument cut through the silence.

San stepped in front of you, his presence commanding, and with one smooth motion, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender yet possessive. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, but his words were sharp, like a warning.

"The next man to make a move without her permission will regret it," San's voice was calm but held an undeniable authority. He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he asked, "Tell me, who do you want?"

You felt your heart race, the pressure mounting as the room fell deathly quiet. The other men—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung—shifted uncomfortably behind San, their whispers of complaint barely audible. "This is taking too long," Hongjoong muttered softly. He's gonna make us wait?" Seonghwa sighed in frustration, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't fair." Even Mingi and Wooyoung exchanged glances, their impatience palpable, but they dared not protest further. They knew better than to challenge San’s authority.

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you stared at San, unsure of what to say. The choice was overwhelming, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. You opened your mouth, but the words caught in your throat. "I... I..." Your voice wavered, and your hands shook as you glanced at each man in turn.

Finally, with a stutter, you managed to say, "M-Mingi."

San’s lips curled into a small, approving smile. "Good choice," he murmured, backing away just enough to allow Mingi to step forward. His praise made your chest tighten in both relief and anticipation.

Then San turned to the others, his gaze cold and decisive. "Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Wooyoung," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Back off. Stay with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang until she's done. She'll decide what to do next."

Reluctantly, the remaining three men complied, their disappointment clear, but they knew better than to defy San’s orders.

The room quieted once more as Mingi stepped closer, and the weight of your decision settled in. He positioned himself to your mouth and let you take the lead for a moment.

Mingi stepped forward, his eyes dark with desire as he knelt before you, his towering frame somehow softening with a nervous yet eager energy. His hand trembled slightly as he guided his cock to your mouth, the warmth of your breath against him drawing a shuddering moan from his lips. He wasn’t shy about making sounds; each gasp and whimper escaping him felt raw, his pleasure uninhibited. “God… you’re so good,” he murmured breathlessly, his voice catching as you dragged your tongue along his length in a slow, deliberate motion. The way you swirled your tongue and teased him at the tip had him bucking his hips slightly, his hands gripping your shoulders for balance as his knees threatened to give out. Every lick, every motion from your mouth sent Mingi spiraling closer to the edge, his moans turning into desperate whines that filled the room. Every sound that escaped his throat gave you energy to suck him more, deeper, faster, sloppier, even if his huge, girthy cock was making you choke on it with every deeper thrust. “Y-you’re… gonna make me—” he stammered, and before he could finish his sentence, his climax overtook him. His body tensed as he came, the sound of his loud, unrestrained moan echoing through the room.

Panting heavily, Mingi stepped back, his legs shaky as he tried to steady himself. You wiped your lips, your own breath coming in short, heavy pants as the intensity of the moment settled between you. For a brief moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the shared experience thick in the air.

Mingi finally broke the silence, offering you a sheepish smile. “That was… incredible,” he admitted, his voice still husky. “But what do we do now?”

Before you could answer, San’s familiar voice cut in, smooth and commanding as ever. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, stepping forward with his trademark confidence. His gaze flicked between you and Mingi before landing on you, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“How about this,” San began, his tone low and almost teasing. “You take Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yeosang next. All at once. Then, when they’re done…” He glanced over at Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho, his smirk widening. “You’ll handle them. Together.”

His words sent a ripple through the room, the other men exchanging glances, their expressions a mixture of excitement and anticipation. San’s smirk deepened as his gaze returned to you, his voice dropping even lower.

“And when that’s over,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours, “it’ll finally be my turn.”

San’s tone held a sense of finality, his dominance undeniable as he stood tall before you. “The best things,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “are always saved for last.”

The tension in the room was palpable, every man’s gaze now fixed on you, waiting to see how you’d respond. San’s command lingered in the air, his natural authority unmistakable as you tried to steady your racing heart and prepare for what lay ahead.

Your lips trembled, the weight of anticipation heavy as you stood surrounded by three of them—Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Hongjoong—each waiting, their eyes fixed on you. Finally, you stammered, “Y-yes,” the word escaping in a breathy whisper.

San’s gaze softened, pride shining in his dark eyes as he stepped closer to you. Gently, he cupped your face, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek. “That’s my good girl…” he murmured, “or should I say… good slut?” his voice low and rich.. His lips quirked into a smirk as his gaze flicked briefly to the men nearby. The sudden word he said made your eyes widen, surprised he hasn’t used those type of words yet.. as he always uses them when there is just the two of you.

“If you want the chance to be with me tonight,” he continued, his voice smooth and commanding, “you’ll be a good girl for them first. Take care of them. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your breath catching under the weight of his intense stare. “Good,” he said, stepping back and motioning toward Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Hongjoong. “Go on, show them what my good, little slut is capable of.”

San moved aside and as soon as Seonghwa approached you first, his movements slow and confident, San stopped and turned around. “Ah… I almost forgot. Listen carefully," he growled, his voice low and laced with a deadly calm that sent a chill through the air. "She’s mine. The only one who has the right to speak to her like that is me—and even then, it’s only because she allows it. If I catch so much as a whisper of disrespect from any of you, there won’t be warnings, there won’t be second chances. I will make you disappear, and you all know pretty damn well how I take care of people that cross my words.”

“Got it, boss!” all of them said in unison, clearly spooked by his words, but with a good reason.

Seonghwa stepped in front of you. His strong arms slid around you, pulling you firmly against him with your back pressing to his chest. “You’re stunning,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. Yeosang stepped in next, his hand grazing along your thigh before resting on your hip. His fingers trailed up, featherlight, before settling in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your temple.

Hongjoong followed, stepping to your side with a teasing smirk. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, tilting your head gently toward him. “You’re safe with us,” he murmured, his voice low and steady before capturing your lips in a kiss that was as consuming as it was gentle.

Their touches surrounded you, each of them focused on you as the last layers of fabric were shed from their bodies, leaving only warmth and closeness between you. The atmosphere was charged, the air electric as anticipation built around you.

Seonghwa adjusted his hold, his arms sliding beneath your knees to lift your legs effortlessly, pressing them against your chest in a mating press. His chest was firm against your back, his grip steady and sure as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the side of your neck. The new closeness made your breath hitch, heat flooding your senses as you leaned back into him.

Yeosang and Hongjoong steadied you on either side, their hands gliding along your thighs and hips, their touches reverent yet deliberate. Yeosang’s lips brushed against your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin, while Hongjoong whispered your name softly, his voice sending sparks through you.

As Seonghwa positioned himself right under you and began to move, his breath caught, a low groan escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His cock thrusted deep in your ass, his movements deliberate and controlled, each shift of his body sending a wave of warmth coursing through you. Hongjoong soon joined, his body aligning with yours as he ligned his cock to your folds, rubbing it up and down for a couple of times before sliding right in, his quiet gasps mixing with Seonghwa’s.

Yeosang’s steadying hands roamed your sides, offering a grounding presence amid the growing intensity. His kisses traced a path along your shoulder, and his voice was a soothing counterpoint to the fervent rhythm the others set.

The synchronized motion between Seonghwa and Hongjoong was overwhelming, each of their movements filled with purpose, their breaths shallow and mingling with your own. Seonghwa’s grip on you never faltered, his strength keeping you secure as he murmured against your ear, “You’re perfect..”

Their closeness was intoxicating, and the connection shared between the four of you was more than physical—it was a deeply intimate expression of trust, affection, and unspoken understanding. Each kiss, each whisper of praise, and every deliberate movement spoke volumes, leaving you surrounded by warmth and devotion.

Yeosang shifted with purpose, his hands smoothing over your sides with deliberate care before he moved to position himself beneath you. His movements were careful yet assertive, his hands guiding your hips as he thrusted himself in your cunt, his body perfectly aligned to support you. His chest rising briefly as he murmured, “Let me take care of you, too,” his voice low but filled with steady confidence. The feeling of being filled by both Yeosang’s and Hongjoong’s cocks was damn overwhelming and pleasurable, tears falling down your cheeks as you were held up by the 3 boys. But.. one was missing.

The room pulsed with heat, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensations of Yeosang’s deliberate rhythm beneath you and Hongjoong’s teasing precision. Every sound, every touch, had you teetering on the edge, your breaths hitching as you tried to keep up with the intensity.

“Forgot about me for a second, huh?” Wooyoung’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and playful, though the hunger in his eyes betrayed just how impatient he had been. He stood near you and the boys, watching you.

Your eyes flicked to him, and the moment they met his, he was already moving. Whatever remained of his clothes was gone in an instant, hitting the floor without hesitation. “You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as, his hands ghosting over your trembling thighs.

Yeosang let out a low chuckle, his grip on your waist tightening as he adjusted his angle. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Wooyoung replied, his hands sliding up to your hips, brushing against Yeosang’s as he steadied you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

Hongjoong smirked, his fingers caressing your thigh as he watched Wooyoung with quiet amusement. “Don’t overwhelm her right away. She still needs to be in shape for whatever boss wants to do with her later.”

But Wooyoung was unrelenting, his lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder, his kisses growing more insistent. He looked at Seonghwa as he guided his cock into you. The stretch was overwhelming, the new sensation pulling a sharp gasp from your lips as your body adjusted to the addition… in your ass, right where Seonghwa had been fucking you for a while. Wooyoung let out a low groan, his forehead pressing briefly against your shoulder as he steadied himself. “You feel… unreal,” he whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Seonghwa, who had been quietly observing, started to thrust in sync with Wooyoung, filling you up. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice soft and commanding as his lips brushed your ear.

Wooyoung’s movements were slow at first, his hands steadying you as he found his rhythm.

The room was thick with heat, your body trembling as Yeosang and Hongjoong moved in sync, their rhythm pushing you closer to the edge. Their hands gripped you firmly, Yeosang’s nails digging into your waist while Hongjoong’s fingers tightened on your thighs. The pressure inside you was almost unbearable, but it only heightened the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Just like that,” Hongjoong groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you in hot waves. A cry ripped from your lips as Yeosang followed, his grip steadying you as he filled you to the brim, the sensation overwhelming.

Behind you, Wooyoung let out a low growl, his chest pressed against your back as Seonghwa whispered praises into your ear. Their movements were relentless, each thrust drawing out another moan from your trembling body.

“You’re perfect,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice strained as he sank deep inside you, his warmth joining Wooyoung’s as their releases filled you in unison. The sensation of both of them spilling into you left you breathless, your body tightening as your climax crashed over you in a wave of blinding pleasure.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you felt everything—every stretch, every pulse of warmth as they stayed inside you, their hands soothing you as you shuddered in their arms.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as tears slipped down your cheeks, your body utterly spent yet tingling from the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.

Their warmth surrounded you, grounding you as you came down from the high, your body still trembling but utterly sated.

The weight of San’s gaze lingered on you, dark and full of unspoken hunger. He stepped closer, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “So needy,” he murmured, his voice low and full of heat. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his piercing stare. “One more round, sweetie. That’s it. Then you’re all mine.” His thumb brushed over your trembling lips as his tone dropped further. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you after watching this, you little slut.”

Before you could respond, San stepped back, and Mingi’s hands slid to your waist. He pulled you closer, his large palms steady and grounding as his lips found your neck. The soft press of his mouth left a warm trail, and the quiet groan he let out sent a shiver through you.

Behind you, Jongho’s touch was firmer, his hands gripping your hips as his breath fanned against your shoulder. He didn’t speak, but the heat of his presence and the deliberate press of his lips to your skin left you breathless.

“Just like that,” Yunho murmured, his deep voice a soothing contrast to the desperate need in his eyes. His fingers grazed along your jawline, tilting your face toward him.

You gasped softly, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches and the way they surrounded you. San’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding yet dripping with a dark fondness. “Good girl,” he said, his tone rough as he leaned in to press a fleeting kiss to your temple. “Now let them have their moment, because after this…” His words trailed off, his smirk growing wider. “You’re mine.”

As the 3 boys started fucking you relentlessly, breaths mingling together and whines escaping your chest, they stopped suddenly. You didn't realise why until your sweet boyfriend stood right in front of you. San’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The single word carried enough weight to make Mingi and Jongho halt mid-thrust, their movements freezing as their eyes turned to him. Yunho’s grip on your waist loosened slightly, though he stayed close, his breath still hot against your neck.

“You don’t get to finish yet,” San growled, stepping closer, his intense gaze boring into yours. His tone softened just slightly, but it was no less firm as he tilted your chin upward to meet his piercing eyes. “Not before them, and certainly not before me.”

You gasped softly, your breath hitching as his fingers traced your jawline, his possessive smirk returning. “You think I’m letting you come so easily?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “No, darling. You’re gonna wait until I’m the one who pushes you over. I want you crying out my name, trembling and completely undone because of me. I want you so damn overstimulated you can’t even think of anyone else.”

San turned his sharp gaze to the others, his tone cool and deliberate. “You heard me. Keep her waiting.”

Mingi’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip grounding as his pace resumed, slow but deliberate. The low groans rumbling from his chest mingled with Yunho’s deep, steady breaths behind you. Jongho pressed closer, his lips brushing along your shoulder, his quiet growls sending shivers down your spine.

Their rhythm built together, their bodies perfectly in sync as your moans and cries filled the room. Mingi leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

Yunho’s hands slid up your sides, steady and warm as his lips found the nape of your neck. The way his whines wrapped around you, combined with the desperate, broken groans from Jongho, sent waves of heat coursing through you.

Your cries grew louder as their movements became more erratic, each of them chasing their orgams with a fevered intensity. Mingi’s deep groan echoed through the room as he held you tighter, his body trembling against yours as he finally came. Jongho followed moments later, his grip on your hips firm as his own breathing hitched. Yunho’s orgasm was quieter but no less intense, his face buried in your neck as his chest heaved against your back.

You trembled in their arms, overwhelmed and breathless, when a familiar voice pierced through the haze.

San stepped forward, his movements purposeful, his shirt now entirely gone. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice low and commanding, drawing all attention to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, thoroughly undone and trembling from the intensity. “I told you she wasn’t finished yet.”

He scooped you into his arms effortlessly, his strength both steadying and overwhelming.

He stopped in front of the tall, ornate mirror that stood near the dining table, his reflection capturing his sharp gaze as he set you down gently on the edge of the table. “Look at yourself,” he commanded, his tone rough but laced with a dark sort of tenderness.

You blinked up at him, dazed, your reflection showing your flushed cheeks and trembling frame. San smirked, his hand tilting your chin so you wouldn’t look away. “You see that? That’s what I do to you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with possessive pride.

Before you could respond, he gently pushed you forward, your palms meeting the cool surface of the table as he pressed your body into it. His hand slid down your back, firm but reverent, as his other hand came to rest on your shoulder. “Keep watching,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I want you to see exactly how I make you mine.”

The intensity of his words, the way he held you so effortlessly yet with complete control, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. San’s reflection in the mirror was just as commanding as his presence behind you, his gaze locked onto yours as he slowly began to thrust into your dripping cunt.

Mingi, still catching his breath from nearby, let out a low chuckle. “San, you really don’t hold back, do you?”

San glanced over his shoulder briefly, his smirk growing darker. “Of course not. She doesn’t deserve anything less.” His attention returned to you, his voice dropping as he added, “And she wouldn’t want it any other way, would you, sweetheart?”

The only response you could manage was a breathless whimper, your reflection showing every ounce of the anticipation coursing through your body as San’s grip tightened, grounding you once more in his complete control.

San’s gaze darkened as his hand choked your face and neck down on the table, his strength grounding you even as your legs trembled under the weight of his presence. “Watch me,” he commanded, his voice low and rough, a blend of control and desire. His eyes flicked toward the others as he smirked. “Watch how my little slut lets me take everything from her, how much she trusts me to push her to her limits.”

His fingers trailed deliberately down your back, firm but reverent, sending a shiver coursing through you. The cool surface of the table pressed against your skin, contrasting with the heat radiating from his body as he leaned over you. “You’re mine,” he whispered into your ear, his tone soft yet charged with unrelenting intensity. “And you’ll show them exactly how good you are for me.”

The table creaked under the pressure as San started pounding into you, a silent promise of what was to come. His hand slid to your shoulder, steadying you, his thumb brushing soothing circles into your skin as his other hand started to slowly tangle in your messed up hair.

Your breath caught as he bent down, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Don’t you dare look away,” he murmured, his voice sending a rush of anticipation through you. “I want you to see everything. Every moment. Every second of what I do to you.”

Your reflection in the mirror revealed the truth—the flushed heat of your cheeks, the dazed look in your eyes as you nodded, overwhelmed by his intensity. San’s smirk deepened, his possessiveness evident in every movement as he fucked you, ensuring you felt every ounce of his unwavering focus.

The tension in the room was palpable, each sound amplified as the others watched, their breaths mingling with yours. San’s hold on you remained steady, his thrusts getting sloppier, deeper, more purposeful.

“S-San..!” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he hit your cervix, the roughness of it all sending you over the edge. His hand hovered underneath you, feeling up your belly. As he bottomed down as deep as he was able, stretching you the fuck out, he could feel his cock softly bulging in your lower belly. He let out a satisfied sigh, smiling in the mirror as he saw your eyes teary.

“Yes.. that's it, slut. Scream my damn name.” San said as his pace grew faster and deeper, table creaking under his force. “I thought you'd be all loosened up from the boys fucking you at the same time but damn… their cocks ain't competing with mine. Is that right, darling?” he smirked, looking in your eyes in the mirror as he heard the boys complain in the background.

“Y'all better shut your mouths if you don't want me to give you a reason to complain.” he said between thrusts and they nodded, defeat visible in their eyes.

“Tell me, slut. You're close, is that right?” The way your breath hitches… and the way you desperately arch your back against the hardwood.. “

“San..S-San.. please. P-please.. -ah!” you moaned out as he jerked your head upwards by your hair. His thrusts grew erratic, your head dizzy from his power. He pounded in you a few times before filling you up with his huge load of cum, your walls clenching around his huge cock. Right after him you cry out in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, tears streaming down your cheeks and on the table. You squirted all over the table under you as he slowed down and then pulled out, lifting you up in his embrace and watched you come undone.

“Damn.. I didn't know Boss is this fucking rough with her.” Yunho said, surprised at the power he fucked you with.

“Yeah but.. the princess seems to enjoy it, too.” Yeosang added, the other boys nodding in agreement.

“Everyone had their way, right? Now, all, get out and get washed. Y'all know we have a busy schedule tomorrow. I'll take care of my girl.” San ordered and watched the boys leave his home before bringing you to the shower, talking you through it.

He asked you all sorts of questions. How was it, if you liked it… how did it feel. If you were scared for even a moment or if you doubted him. All these questions made you grow fonder of him, but you were too spent to answer everything in detail. He washed you and himself up and went to bed with you, cuddling and stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive

[cuntphoric]

Hi are you doing reqs? this is my 1st time and if you are taking then I wanna ask like satosugu wants to do the thing but then you're there so like they cant so instead they include you??

a/n; yup i am! i'm gonna try my best on this one because there's not much info on this one (like if you want any specific positions or any other details) but i hope you enjoy this one & thanks for requesting i feel honored to be your first ^_^

shoko didn't even look up from her spot on the couch, a cigarette dangling between her fingers as she waved you off. "can you grab my phone from satoru's room? think i've left it there and i'm not getting up."

"..yes, ma'am," you replied, mock saluting her as you stood up and walked to his room. this wasn't the first time she'd sent you on errands for her before but it had never involved two guys cocks being in you.

you sighed, not even bothering to knock - which you probably should've now that you thought about it.. and opened the door. because who else would've expected gojo and geto's being fully naked, stroking each other?

gojo's long fingers were wrapped around geto's cock, pale against the flushed, darker skin of his shaft, his strokes slow and lazy, almost waiting for something - or someone. geto, in turn, had his hand firmly around gojo’s, his grip more tighter as he went faster than gojo, pumping him in long, deliberate strokes. the way their hands moved in tandem was almost hypnotic for you.

they were full on naked.

gojo, pale and smooth, his chest broad and lean with defined muscle tapering into a slutty ass waist. his happy trail is faint, a thin line of soft, white hair that starts just below his navel and leads down to his cock - his cock was LONG, that's all you knew. his thighs seemed strong and toned now leading up to his sharp hips- then your gaze landed on geto.

geto's body is nothing BUT divine, like he was crafted by the gods themselves. his skin glows like it was sun kissed, just golden and flawless. stretched over muscles, chest broad and chiseled - each sculpted muscle standing out beautifully. then tapering down to a lean, narrow waist. his happy trail, dark and bolder then gojo's, runs down like a sacred path from just below his navel, a perfect line of hair that guides your eyes downward to the true masterpiece. his dick. it's looked to be more thicker and heavy than gojo's, it was a smooth, darker shaft and a slightly thicker head that’s flushed a deep, rich pink. his thighs are strong and more solid, their definition visible when he shifts, leading up to narrow hips- and then your gaze landed on they're eyes, staring right back at you.

shit.

you basically screamed out, "I AM SO- SO SORRY- I-I DIDN'T THINK- I-" and got cut off by two mesmerizing laughs.

"you said she was with shoko," geto muttered, his hand still moving on gojo.

"she was!" gojo shot back, rolling his eyes but not bothering to stop. he rubbed his thumb lazily over the tip of geto's cock - all in front of you.

"didn’t even lock the door," geto mused with a sigh, his smirk widening as he glanced at you. "hm."

you couldn’t decide whether you wanted the ground to swallow you whole or them to swallow you whole.

but then gojo tilted his head, smirking smugly. "so, are you just gonna stand there, or..?"

your heart almost stopped. almost. "..or what?"

geto's gaze darkened, his smirk curling by the second. "or are you going to make yourself useful?" finishing gojo's sentence for him.

the air felt heavy, charged with something you couldn’t name. not to them though, to them the air just felt smelt like sex. your legs locked in place as your brain struggled to keep up.

"..useful how?" you managed to croak out.

gojo laughed, low and breathy, as he leaned back against the headboard, spreading his legs wider like he was giving you a full invitation, while geto spat on his hand to rub up and down on his shaft. "you're already here, so why not join us? unless," he paused, his smirk deepening, arching his eyebrow, "you're too shy to handle it?"

geto chuckled softly, his voice smooth as he tipped his chin toward you. "we won't bite too hard."

you blinked a couple of times, your mind spinning, but your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your stomach as their words wrapped around you like a blanket was hard to resist.

because now? now you didn’t even know how it happened. one second, you were standing there, frozen and flustered, and the next, you were on your fours, fully out and bare.

gojo was behind you, his hands firm on your hips, pulling you back into him as he pushed in with no patience. his cock stretched you in a way that made you gasp at first, your flat hands turning into fists as your body arched. he wasn't gentle - he didn’t give you time to adjust, but it did went in slightly more easier because of the spit geto originally rubbed onto him. instead snapping his hips forward with a mean, deliberate force that made your breath hitch.

"ah, you’re taking me so well," gojo murmured, his voice low and almost teasing as he leaned down to your ear. "so tight, baby. thought you'd be shy, but look at you now."

before you could respond - if you even could - geto was in front of you, his hand gripping the base of his cock as he guided it to your lips. "open up, pretty," he said, his tone soft but so commanding, his dark eyes watching you intently to see your mouth open.

you listened, parting your lips as he slid it inside, his cock thick and heavy on your tongue. the taste of him fully flooded your senses, earthy and heady, and the groan he let out as you hollowed your cheeks sent heat rushing through you.

"oh yeah, that's it," geto praised, his voice sleek as his fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place as he began to move, pushing his dick into your mouth delicately with the roll of his hips. in all honesty - he's been wanting to get his cock inside your mouth since.. well.. forever.

gojo's pace behind you didn't falter, his cock hitting deep with every thrust, dragging sounds out of you that you couldn’t muffle even with geto's dick in your mouth. the way they moved together was sickening, each thrust from gojo pushing you forward onto geto roughly, their rhythms were perfectly synced - gojo pushing you harder into geto's mouth with every thrust and geto pushing you back onto gojo's long dick as he throat fucks you.

and then, suddenly, they went slower.

you blinked for a moment, until you felt them shift. gojo leaned down over you, his chest pressing against your back as his lips brushed your shoulder, and geto tilted his head down to meet him.

their lips met just beneath you, soft and slow at first, then deeper, more urgent. the kiss was messy, all heat and all tongue, their breaths mingling as they moved together.

the sight alone had you tightening around gojo, drawing a low, breathy moan from him that he poured right into geto's mouth.

gojo's half lidded eyes fluttered as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, a string of saliva stretching, connecting their lips. geto pulled back first, his lips shiny and swollen as he glanced down at you with a lazy smirk. "enjoying the view?" he hummed out, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

gojo laughed, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust forward again, more harder this time to make up for the lost time. "she loves it, duh," he spoke, his tone dripping with obviousness. "don’t you, sweetheart?"

your breath hitched, the overwhelming heat of it all forcing a shaky, whisper, "y-yeah!" out of you, barely audible over the sound of the skin slapping against another.

"told you," gojo chuckled, his voice taunting as he angled his hips just right, pulling another broken moan from you.

geto hummed from in front of you, a lazy smirk curling on his lips as he tilted your chin up to meet his dark, lidded gaze. "so glad gojo didn't lock the door," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip.

..then, everything felt like a haze as you stumbled back into the living room.

"couldn't find your phone," you mumbled to shoko, your voice hoarse as you avoided her gaze, your body still warm and trembling, still obviously feeling it.

shoko didn't even look up, taking a long drag from her cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke. "huh. guess it's somewhere else, then," she sighed, leaning her head back onto the pillow.

meanwhile, your knees wobbled as you dropped onto the couch, your mind running a whole maraton with everything that had just unfolded behind that closed, unlocked door.

[stayteezdreams]

Christmas Comfort

Plot: You expected to be spending this Christmas alone, left with your own thoughts and loneliness. But your boyfriend and best friends have a surprise for you.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Gn!Reader (est. relationship) + Reader & Stray Kids

A/n's: I'm gonna be real with you, this fic is entirely self serving and a comfort fic for myself. I lost both of my parents this year and they were the only close family I had left. So I will be alone for Christmas for the first time. So I wanted to write something to give myself a little comfort, and help anyone else who might be in a similar situation. I did not give any particulars for why the reader is alone, so hopefully more people can relate if they are alone this Christmas too.

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness, general sadness. Angsty but comforting.

Words: 2k

It felt odd, being alone for Christmas. Before, you would be celebrating with family or friends, enjoying the usual traditions, foods, and movies. You'd have fun decorating the house and the tree. But it was all different this year.

The traditions became memories. The foods unmade; the movies unwatched. Aside from a few decorations you set around your apartment, nothing in your home told you it was Christmas at all. No lights. No tree. No presents. Nothing.

You never really expected that it would end just like that.

If you had known last Christmas would have been the last one you had the way you were used to, you would have cherished it more.

It wasn’t that you hated Christmas now, or didn’t want to celebrate, you just didn’t see the point. Not when you were alone.

You enjoyed talking to your boyfriend Han about all the things he was doing with his family, the group chat between you and the boys was lively. You didn’t tell them how you were feeling, or that you were completely alone. They knew things were different this year, but you had hidden a lot of it from them.

You didn’t want to take away their joy of celebrating with their families after working so hard. They had all been gone for about a week now, and you admittedly did miss them. Their presence made it a lot easier for you to escape the threatening emotions lingering beneath. Now that they were gone, it was getting harder.  

It was three days before Christmas, and you could feel it slowly getting harder to feel nothing.

When the boys asked you what you were doing, you never really lied, but you didn’t tell them the whole truth. Yes, you did bake Christmas cookies, but they were for your neighbors you barely even knew. You did decorate, by putting a wreath on your door, and setting out a couple cute pillows.

You weren’t necessarily sad or disappointed in not having a real Christmas this year. But you had to admit, it felt…empty. Nothing would feel the same again and you knew that. But next year, it will be different. It won’t be as difficult to find the familiar Christmas joy. But this year, you would have to grow comfortable with your own company for now. And just hope that the lingering feeling deep in your gut won’t become too unbearable.

You could do this. You can do it. It will be okay. You may be lonely now, but you aren’t alone.

Looking at the group chat as an array of messages came through, you smiled and scoffed at the jokes and playful insults. Something clenched in your chest, and you took a deep breath.

You had such a good handle on your emotions. You were doing okay. You’re okay.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to settle your quivering heart.

Setting aside your phone, you went back to reading your book, forgetting about the group chat, and missing the slow awareness by the others that you were slowly talking less and less over the last few days.

You were also unaware of the conversations going on in the group chat you weren’t a part of. The discussions of a plan nearly finished.

Did you think they wouldn’t notice? How you would slowly drop from the conversations that centered around Christmas. That you would be excited for everyone but give vague replies when it came to yourself. Did you think they didn’t know you were alone? That you were hurting in ways you were too afraid to worry them with?

You were family. Even if you convinced yourself, you weren’t as important as that to them.

Han tried to bring you back to visit his family with him, but you had to work. But he also knew it was because it would be difficult for you to adjust right now, to being in the middle of someone else’s Christmas, someone else’s traditions, you wanted familiarity. But you no longer had that.

It was Han’s plan originally, to go home as early as he could, celebrate with his family, and return to you. When the others heard this, they wanted to join too. They all knew how hard this year was for you. And how hard you were trying to hide it. They wanted you to know you weren’t alone, they didn’t want you to wallow in your own pain.

“Hello?” You asked with a smile as you answered Han’s call.

“Babbyyyy.” He said loudly, making you chuckle.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“I just went on a walk remember. Oh, then I stopped at a little café, but I’, heading back home now. How about you? Did you go to the market with your mom?”

“Nope!”

“Oh, then what?”

“I was preparing a secret Christmas surprise.”

“Uh oh.”

“Uh-oh? What do you mean uh-oh?!” His sassy tone made you laugh. “I’ll have you know it’s the best surprise I’ve ever pulled off!”

“Oh really? What is this surprise then?”

“I’m not telling you now!”

You laughed, “Oh come on! I wanna know!”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Let me ask you something first.”

“Okay?”

“Are you okay?”

Your heart jumped a bit, and you let out a soft laugh, though it was forced. “What?”

“You haven’t been responding to the group chat, and your texts with me are always vague. I wanted to know if you were lying about being okay.”

Your heart was pounding a bit now, “Why are you suddenly asking that?”

“Because I want you to know I noticed. That I didn’t miss it. That none of us did.”

You stopped in your tracks for a moment, how could you expect Han to not notice you weren’t okay? He noticed everything about you, even when he wasn’t there. It was one of the reasons you loved him so much. He saw you, in ways no one else did.

The boys too. They were always there when you needed them, even when you didn’t ask. They always noticed when you went quiet for a little too long. They noticed when you seemed withdrawn or evasive. And then they wouldn’t leave you alone until you told them everything.  

Halfway through your walk today, you spent a little too long thinking about the things you no longer had. You cried. For the first time in a while. You had always stopped the tears before they fell, but today you couldn’t.

It was Christmas and you were so sad.

But Han made you smile, and you loved him for that. And now he was telling you he knew, somehow, that you weren’t okay anymore. That you failed at keeping it together.

“You knew this Christmas was going to be a hard one for me.” You said softly.

He asked if you wanted him to stay, to not go home, but you refused. You would not take that from him, no matter what was going on with you. So, he left, reluctantly, but he left.

“Of course I knew.”

You felt tears brimming in your eyes again as you reached your door. “I was just hoping I was wrong.” You finished softly.

“Hey baby?” Han’s voice was suddenly quiet.

“Hmm?” You unlocked your door, waiting for his response.

“Merry Christmas.”

As the door swung open, you came face to face with not only Han, phone still to his ear, but all of the boys, sitting around your living room. Their faces held smiles, as they anxiously waited for your reaction to them being here.

Your house was covered in Christmas lights and decorations. And in the previously empty corner, was a large Christmas tree. On the wall, a line of stockings filled with what you assumed was candy.

Littering the tables and floor were various loose decorations, tinsel and boxes. You assumed while you had gone out, Han, having his own key, snuck all of them in and they decorated your house as much as they could before you returned.

“Wh- how-“you hesitated as you looked around at them in surprise.

“Surprise!” They all cheered out, Changbin tossing tinsel in the air as Lee Know twirled around some ribbon.

Your eyes locked with Han’s as he slowly put down the phone with a grin. Unable to stop the sudden emotions that came over you, tears became obvious as you stared at them all, still in shock, but overcome with emotions you had been repressing.

Their faces changed from bright smiles to looks of concern mixed with relief. This is what they wanted, but they hated it at the same time. You needed to let everything out that you had been holding in. And now it was happening.

Han rushed forward and pulled you into a hug, the others stood around, allowing him the moment as you cried into his shoulder.

He gently swayed you as he hushed you and gently rubbed his hands down your back. “I know baby. But I’m here now, okay?”

Slowly, the others surrounded you, hugging you and patting your head, giving you comforting words and reassurance.

After a few moments you stepped away from Han and looked around at them before letting out a strangled laugh, knowing you must look terrible now. “Why did you all come here?”

“Because you’re our family Y/n.” Chris said as if it was obvious. “And we never leave our family alone.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you we were going to come back.” Felix added in, “Originally it was just Han’s idea, then we all decided we wanted to surprise you too.”

“We hated that you were suffering alone without telling us.” Hyunjin broke in, a frown on his face.

You looked at Han, “You were always planning on coming back early?”

He nodded, “You told me I had to go see my family, I did.”

“But it’s Christmas.”

“Exactly!” Lee Know said with a somewhat harsh, but at the same time caring, tone, “And you were alone. That’s unacceptable.”

“We got to spend time with our families.” Chris started, “And now we are doing it again, here, with you.”

You sniffled again as another wave of emotions threatened to spill out. You wanted to protest some more, but you knew there was no point. They were here now, and even if part of you wished they hadn’t left their families for you, you were relieved, and so grateful that they cared enough for you to come back.

“Thank you.” You mumbled out as you repressed the urge to cry again.

Seungmin ruffled your hair, “Don’t cry anymore Y/n, you’re ugly when you cry!”

Turning, you smacked him, making him laugh, which in return made you smile. Changbin grabbed at him while jokingly cursing at him for what he said.

Han grabbed you and pulled you back into his chest as he playfully pointed threateningly at Seungmin before he wrapped his arms protectively around you.

After everyone settled down, and you had finished crying, for the most part. You sat down on the couches as the boys decided to surprise you with presents.

“What are all these?”

“We got you presents, duh!” Seungmin said as he waved one in front of your face.

“Oh, wait!” You said as you rose before sprinting off to another room. When you came back, you had a large box in your hand full of wrapped presents. “I planned to give these to you when you came back.”

There was a chorus of ‘awes’ and gasps as you set down the box of their presents.

“Gift exchange!” Han said happily as he pulled you into his lap.

As everyone playfully argued about who should open something first, you looked around at them with a grateful smile.

Yes, the heartache of change still sat heavy in your chest. But one thing that would never change was this. Your found family. The ones who knew you inside and out.

Han, who loved every part of you and accepted you. Who always made you smile and feel wanted.

And your friends, your brothers, who took care of you in ways you never had before.

Yes, things were different now, and the pain of that would still linger for a long time. But you had them. You weren’t alone. Not anymore, and never again.

xx End xx

And that's it for the 12 Days of Christmas 2024!

I know if sort of ended on an angsty note, but I hope you all enjoyed the fics!

((Taglist Form))

12 Days of Christmas Taglist: @multi-fandommaniac, @mbruben-stein

General Taglist:  @charmsprout, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,

@shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie, @alexxavicry

Stray Kids Taglist: @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3, @prettymiye0n, @thunderous-wolf, @thedistractedwriter,

@briqnne, @dinossaurz, @carattinymoa, @stay3096,

@vnessalau, @3rachasninja, @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

Han: @dear-dreamie

[kozumesphone]

h.h ✦ so good ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : ayyy dominoooo merry christmas (it’s literally exactly 12:00am here) 😋 this fic is not even christmas-related, but it is hyunjin-related and that’s the only excuse I need to post it ☝️ this is the longest fic i’ve ever written (oneshot), so I hope it’s not too dragged out </3 I wanted to split it into 2 parts but decided against it. 👺 anyway!! this is me spreading cute and comfy!hyunjin as well as crop top!hyunjin agenda (esp after that solo mv?! babygirlism is OFF the charts w that fit ✨). well! merry christmas again! may your christmas be filled with streaming the solo mvs and christmas evel <3 this fic is dedicated to mori ( @serendipitous-girl )’s friend (if youre seeing this, HIIII!!) ❇️ enjoy~~ 💗🥟 (:

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : fem!reader , trainee!dancer!reader , idol!hyunjin , reader is 18 and hyunjin is 19 years old , ot8 mentioned , reader has (playful) beef w chan , one remark about reader thinking she’s heavy (if you think that way too, js know that i love you and i’d work out enough to bench press your weight ok) , crop top!hyunjin agenda , hyunjin is a CUTIE PATOOTIEEE , cheeky gentleman!hyunjin , also the last icon on the top is reader’s outfit described at the start of the fic / you can find reader’s stage outfit in the reblogs of this post >.< ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 3.8k

I was getting ready in a short top, cargo pants and v-strings, first thing in the morning today. 

I was packing my stage outfit in my bag when my uncle called me. I switched the call to speaker mode, and continued packing.

“is my little star almost done packing?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“yup! i’ll be at the venue in 20 minutes,” I said.

“great, i’ll see you there.” he hung up. 

I resumed my stray kids playlist, and the muscle memory to the choreography of the songs kept kicking in as I tried to finish packing. their new comeback album, HOP, was way too addictive to listen to.

I ended up being 10 minutes late—with my shoelaces barely tied—to the venue because I got too invested in my one-woman-concert.

as soon as I got down the car, it was surprising not having any cameras flashing in my face.

my uncle was hosting a premiere for the newest k-drama he had directed. he was quite the talk of town, with multiple blockbuster dramas credited to his name. 

he normally loved all the attention from the world. though, this time, the paparazzi was not allowed to the event since it was his last premiere before retirement. 

in lieu of the special circumstances, he declared the event a no-paparazzi only-vip one. and I was the most excited, which was an understatement, because the loves of my life were going to be there: stray kids.

well, it would be a little bit of an exaggeration to call them that, but they were my ult group, and they were all going to be there today.

during production, my uncle had asked me who I thought would be fit to be responsible for the soundtrack of his last drama ever, and I suggested stray kids to him, half as a joke. he ended up taking my suggestion, and so, as the music directors, stray kids were invited today as well.

the venue was an outdoor stadium, set for a proper viewing and many performances on the huge stage in the centre. 

lots of staircases and escalators went up and down the rows of seats and soft couches sat at the bottom, closest to the stage. 

I checked my seat number and found that it was in one of the first rows of couches near the stage. I made my way towards it and fell comfortably on the seat.

the stadium wasn’t completely filled yet, but it was already buzzing with gossips and such. I could spot a few friends of my uncle, who were all directors or producers, as well as the stars of the drama. I left my bag in my seat, and got up to greet the lead actors. they were a few years older than me, and had perfect chemistry with each other, even off-screen.

after chatting for a while, something else caught my attention in my peripheral vision.

well, more like someone else.

the members of stray kids had gotten out of their vehicle, each one of them looking as handsome as the rest.

my eyes strayed to chan and hyunjin in the corner of their group.

I met chan’s eyes, and bowed a little bit. he smiled back at me.

I tried to catch jeongin’s eye on the other side, but failed, because he was yapping to lee know about something quite excitedly.  

hyunjin was wearing a black tank top and a leather biker jacket, paired with dark cargo jeans and boots. the jewellery on him was absolutely perfect for his outfit and him, and his hair was styled beautifully. I knew stray kids had a performance sometime today, so he must have been carrying his stage outfit with him, just like I was. our eyes met for a second, and I let out a little gasp. he tried to smack away han, who was saying something loudly in his ear with a huge grin on his face. I turned around to continue talking with the other cast members who had gathered. 

after a while, everyone was asked to settle down in their seats, as the entertainment performances were about to begin. I made my way back to my seat, happy to see my bag still there. 

as I flopped down onto the fluffy couch, a taller figure towered over me. their shadow fell across my face. I opened my eyes to be met with hyunjin’s face.

“hi! i’ve got the seat beside you,” he smiled down at me. I stared at him in shock for a second, even though I had seen him countless times before, but just from a little farther away.

“right. yes- sorry, hi!” I stood up suddenly, bowing my head a little, and extending my hand. he shook it with a firm grip, and we both sat down.

a few performances went by, and the crowd started to chat again.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere… have we met before, by any chance?” he asked, turning towards me. our knees were touching a little bit now. 

“i’m actually a trainee, at jype,” I said, smiling a little.

his eyes lit up with recognition. “oh wait, y/n? your group practices in the room beside ours, doesn’t it?”

“yes, actually. how do you remember that?” I asked, a little shocked by the fact that he knew of my existence, and my name as well. 

“ah, I remember seeing you talking to chan, when you guys grabbed some ice cream from the vending machine in the first floor,” he recounted. “chan was telling me all about your group, after that. especially about you, actually.” I blushed a little bit, at the thought of chan remembering me enough to mention my members and me to hyunjin.

“what did he say? nothing bad, I hope,” I laughed. 

“well, that’s a secret,” hyunjin said, covering his mouth as if to shush himself. I groaned. 

“he better not have said anything stupid, then.”

hyunjin chuckled and continued. “he also told me about how he was your babysitter for a while, when you were younger?”

“oh, he was an absolute bully! he was barely 3 years older than me, but he acted like he was a 30-year old who knew everything. pompous ass.” I muttered the last part under my breath. 

hyunjin snickered. “sounds like chan, honestly. felix talks about him just like you do. I think lixie and you would get along well, then.” I laughed under my breath, exhilarated at the thought of even an opportunity to meet the other members. 

we continued talking for a while, when it was announced that the fire show would be starting. delighted, I whipped out my handcam to record it. it always sounded like a fun thing to watch, but i’d never been to any fire shows before. 

the entire show was amazing, but my arms were starting to get sore from holding up the camera for so long. hyunjin peaked at me, and stole the camera from my hands, holding it up, pointed towards the stage. 

“relax, i’ll hold it for you,” he whispered. my heart fluttered at the proximity between his lips and my ear. thinking nothing of the shiver sent down my spine, I left my handcam in hyunjin’s care, enjoying the show. 

there were lots of other entertainment segments, considering the event was supposed to last almost an entire day. there were lots of breaks in between for food, as well. 

at one point, I had fallen asleep on the soft couch. I kept moving around to get comfortable. the lights from the acts on stage were too bright, so I turned my body and head to the side, away from the lights. I threw my hand around something stable, and fell deeper into slumber. 

when I woke up from my quick power nap, I felt something against my palm. I opened my eyes to find my hand over hyunjin’s torso. he was leaning back, legs spread apart, body slowly vibing to the show on stage.

at my movement, he turned around slowly, looking at me. 

“got your beauty sleep, princess?” he asked, smirking a little. beneath my hand, that still rested over some part of his chest, I could feel his heart practically beating out of his body.

“dude, are you okay?” I asked, sitting up, ignoring his question. I moved a bit to place my hand flat against his chest. he had taken off his jacket, and was now in just a tank top. “your heart’s beating so fast. do you need to get away from the lights or something?”

“oh, no, i’m fine,” he mumbled, turning away a little bit. 

“you sure?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

even though we’d officially only met today, I felt comfortable around him. comfortable enough to talk to him, like i’d speak to any friend… which made sense, because we were sort of the same age. 

“yes, yes, mother,” he rolled his eyes at me. I gave him a side-eye, and we turned back around to watch the next set of performances. 

during one of the breaks, my phone rang with an incoming call from my aunt.

“y/n-ah, can you make it to the seventeenth floor fast? your cousin is so clumsy, she spilt juice all over herself and I need some help with her,” she said. I could hear the desperation in her voice through the phone, so I agreed.

“yeah, imo, i’ll be there. I think I have your seat number too, so don’t worry about it.”

as I stood up, hyunjin pulled me down immediately. “where are you going?” he whispered.

“my aunt needs some help with her daughter. she’s just three years old, and cute as hell of course, but she’s quite a handful. i’ll be right back, though,” I told him.

“i’ll come with you, then,” he said, getting up. I was surprised for a second, but nodded anyway.

I stood up and was about to close my ‘phone’ app, but paused at the screen. did I give him my phone along with my handcam, at some point? i’d forgotten about it, if I had. 

hyunjin had saved his contact number under the name ’hyune 🥟’.

“i’m curious, do you give out your number to every girl you meet?” I asked, joking, as we began making our way up the stairs. 

he turned back to me and then turned forward again, “nope. just the pretty ones.”

my heart fluttered at his dialogue, but I quickly regained my composure. “hyune, that’s so cheesy, oh my god.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“whatever,” he laughed. “don’t I get your number too? just so we don’t lose each other in the crowd.”

I was shocked, yet again, at the thought of the hwang hyunjin asking for my number, no matter what the reason.

he passed his phone to me, and we fell in step beside each other. I entered my number in, and saved it as ‘n/n 🌊’, before handing it back to him.

we made it to the seventeenth floor soon, both of us half-dancing to the music playing and talking to each other. when we reached my aunt’s row, though, she wasn’t there.

I asked the people nearby if they had seen a woman with a child in their row, and they said that she had left just a minute ago, with some staff members. 

I thanked them, and hyunjin and I decided to make our way back to our seats.

before we could start going down through the stairs, a security guard stopped us both.

“who are you two? don’t you know it’s the vip section down there?” he asked, gruffly.

“…i’m hyunjin? from stray kids?” hyunjin replied to him, as sassy as ever, and turned towards me to roll his eyes in mock-offence. 

“okay, well, what about you, miss?” he asked me. I had forgotten my tickets in my bag, which was still on my seat. 

I made eye contact with hyunjin, and he somehow seemed to understand that I didn’t have any other proof.

“i’m… uh… with him,” I replied, unsure. 

the guard looked at me suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. 

suddenly, hyunjin yelled, “who’s that running, over there?!” and pointed behind the guard. 

he turned back to see, and in the same second, hyunjin wrapped his fingers around my wrist, as we took off running down the stairs. 

we were sprinting down rows of stairs, laughing, almost breathless, but we could still hear the guard running behind us. 

“wait, wait,” I pulled hyunjin’s shirt from the back. “i’m going to trip, my laces are untied.” I breathed out. 

he shook his head, and picked me up bridal-style. “just tie your shoelace like this, he’ll catch us easily, otherwise!” he rolled his eyes, as if it was an obvious thing to do. 

by the time we were running down the next few sets of stairs, I had finished tying my laces, and we had also successfully lost the security guard. hopefully, he didn’t think of us as a threat too big to report to his boss, or whatever. 

hyunjin was still carrying me, as we were still walking down. 

“are you sure you don’t want to put me down now?” I asked, hesitating a little bit. “I am pretty heavy, I suppose, so-”

“of course you’re not,” he smiled softly at me.

the sun was just setting and the sky was a canvas of orange, pink, and purple. all the hues were reflected on hyunjin’s face, making him appear like an illuminated angel.

“hey…” I started. “would you mind if I recorded a video of the sunset, and… this?” I gestured between him and me. “I guess this is probably one of my favourite memories till date, and I… yeah. I want something to remember today by.” I let out a breath, wondering if i’d crossed the line by asking him if I could record him carrying me. it does sound like an awkward, weird and creepy request.

to my surprise, he nodded. “yes! you have to send it to me too, because I could say pretty much the same thing.” he grinned down at me. 

I smiled happily, and took out my phone. I took a few pictures of the sunset first. then, I flipped to the back camera, zoomed out to 0.5x, and extended my hand. I clicked on the ‘record’ button, recording hyunjin, and the light falling on his face. he smiled at the camera once, and then started making funny faces. I slapped his chest lightly, and we started laughing.

(much later, when i’d rewatched these videos, I noticed hyunjin looking at me with his eyes filled to the brim with love. just smiling at me throughout most of the video.)

we started talking to the camera like a vlog, and I flipped it after a while to show the sunset. it was absolutely ethereal, of course. 

we had almost reached the last few sets of stairs, so hyunjin set me down slowly. 

I thanked him quietly, ending the recording. “pretty sure i’m never forgetting this day.” I laughed lightly. 

“nooo, don’t thank me at all. I had so much fun, unexpectedly. it was cute,” he winked.

I turned away suddenly, heat rushing up my neck for the millionth time during the same day. I grumbled a little, and we continued talking to each other on the way back to our couch in the front row. 

I was telling him about my other friends who were STAY, and told him that they’d be very jealous to find out that I had been at such an event and met him.

“i’d love to meet your friends one day, they all do seem like fun people,” he said.

“oh my god!” I exclaimed. “I really hope you do. it’d be so cool.”

my phone dinged suddenly, and I looked down to see a notification alerting me about my upcoming dance performance on the centre stage for the day.

I bid hyunjin goodbye, letting him know that i’d be back after a while, and that I had to leave. 

would he be surprised when he’d see me on the stage? would he like the dance? I kept asking myself millions of questions.

he pouted for a while, but soon let me go, understanding that it was something important. 

I grabbed my bag from my seat, and rushed backstage. 

seeing the staff members waiting for me, I felt a little less nervous. familiar faces always had that effect, didn’t they?

ᯓ★ hyunjin’s pov . . .

I was back at my seat, continuing to watch the performances.

it was nearly 10 in the night already, and the crowd was getting more and more hyped. 

the other members and I were set to go on stage in about an hour for our performance, and we were all relatively ready, except for our outfits and makeup.

the last few performances were the most anticipated ones, usually. this time, I had forgotten to check the schedule to see who else was performing before us tonight. 

the lights dulled, after a song ended. a spotlight shone, and a girl was standing facing the other way. she was wearing a white button-up, a cropped vest, and cargo-jean pants. her belt shone with a row of stars and rhinestones. she truly gave off a ‘stray kids’ vibe, and would probably fit right in with our concept too. her hair reminded me of y/n’s.

the music began, and she turned around at the beat. I realised two things, simultaneously: first, that it was my solo song ‘so good’—the one that we had released just a week ago—that had started playing. and second, the girl on stage was y/n.

my heart burst at the sight of her. she had sunglasses on, and a black tie was loosely draped around her neck. her jewellery went absolutely perfectly with her outfit and vibe. 

I was awe-struck when she started dancing. they were the same steps I had been performing for so many weeks, but when she did them, they looked… ethereal. she did the isolations so well, and her flow was unmatched, much like an ocean wave.

her rings and bracelets glinted in the light continuously. her expressions were a perfect match for my song. she was pulling off the choreography exactly how it was, if not better. 

if I hadn’t already fallen head over heels in love with her, I certainly did now.

she executed the dance break choreography flawlessly. I was almost envious of how good she looked doing my dance. the lighting enhanced how beautiful she looked. an angel descending from heaven, perhaps. 

still in awe, I didn’t notice her performance ending, and the crowd was going wild. apparently, lots of people knew who she was. 

“who is she?” I asked the old couple sitting behind me. 

“oh, the girl who was just on the stage? she’s the director’s niece. an absolute beauty,” the woman replied, smiling fondly. 

“that she is,” I mumbled, and thanked the woman.

I got a notification from felix, saying that chan was looking for me backstage. I quickly made my way there, hoping to catch y/n too.

thanks to my occassional good luck, she was there, resting on a couch in the makeup room. a staff member was hovering around her, cleaning her makeup. the thin layer of sweat on her face was glistening under the light.

“hyunjin!” she called out, sitting up suddenly.

I smiled and walked towards her, gesturing at han—who was nearby—to wait for me.

as soon as y/n stood up, I hugged her. “that was so beautiful,” I muttered into her hair.

she pulled back a little and smiled at me.

“i’m so happy you liked it. I was kind of nervous-”

“y/n?! that was amazing! It literally looked exactly like hyunjin’s dance style!” jeongin said, running towards us. I rolled my eyes at the intrusion, but let it go soon since it was just jeongin.

I paused suddenly. “wait. how do you know her?” I asked him.

“oh, noona got me chocolates on my birthday, and since then we’ve been hanging out a bit,” he said. I turned to y/n, who was nodding in a very ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ way.

“i’ll leave you two to talk now, but jinnie hyung, the stylists are waiting for you. we need to get ready,” he said while walking away, and I nodded.

“ah, I see how it is,” I teased, narrowing my eyes playfully. “stealing the maknae’s heart before mine, huh?”

she burst out laughing. “you’ve got it all wrong. innie’s just a little brother to me.”

I felt a little relieved at that.

I saw the rest of the group trickle backstage one by one, each offering her their compliments, remembering her from the jype building.

felix hugged her and exclaimed how proud he was of her performance. “no wonder hyunjin’s been texting us about you nonstop today,” he added with a cheeky grin. I shoved him playfully, slightly blushing.

as the chaos died down, the staff called us one last time to prepare for our performance.

I turned to y/n, and asked a bit hesitantly. “will you still be here after the show?”

she nodded, her smile lighting up her face. “of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I stepped closer, leaning in so only she could hear. “good. I still owe you one for making my heart race like that.” her blush was as beautiful as ever, and it gave me the courage to add, “do you want to grab a coffee, or something, after the event?”

“I’d love that,” she said softly, nodding, her eyes meeting mine with a spark that made my heart race, yet again.

as I walked towards the stage with my members, I couldn’t help but glance back at her. she was watching us, her expression proud and supportive. she threw a thumbs up in the air.

I knew that this day wasn’t just a moment of chance or luck. it was the beginning of something beautiful.

ᯓ★ bonus ending: y/n’s pov . . .

after hyunjin’s performance with his group and my excessively loud cheering and screaming, there were still quite a few performances left.

unbothered, hyunjin and I snuck away from the stadium, and roamed outside, looking for coffee shops close by. it was too late, so the roads were mostly empty.

there were a lot of hands-brushing and staring-at-each-other moments too.

under the city’s twinkling lights, watching korea’s night life with him, I couldn’t help but wonder what galaxy i’d saved in my past life to be lucky enough so as to meet someone like hyunjin today.

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[penkura]

Jingle Bells

Summary: Its your son's first Christmas and Law wishes certain people were here.

Note: I'm sorry for the angst. :') Law just leads to it when I write him.

“Law, we should put him in his crib.”

“Mm…I will in a bit.”

It makes you smile to watch Law just sit with and hold your son Rosi while he sleeps, especially with the lights from your Christmas tree brightening the room. Your eight-month-old doesn’t seem bothered by the lights, comfortably snoozing in Law’s arms with the jingle bells he got from a party earlier that day still clutched in his little hands. You had taken him to a party with all your friends and their own kids, little gift bags were given to them with homemade sugar cookies (Sanji’s doing), a small bit of money (Nami’s doing), and, unfortunately, a set of jingle bells, which you just knew was because of Luffy. Once Rosi got a hold of his set, and heard the sound they made just from him moving his little arms, he didn’t stop the whole time during the party, and neither did the other toddlers that got their sets in their hands. It sounded like a badly put together children’s choir performance, most of you were about to threaten Luffy with providing his kids with worse musical instruments one day.

Rosi continued shaking his jingle bells even once you had him in the car to drive home, the sound only stopping when he’d finally fallen asleep about halfway home, making you and Law sigh in relief. He’d been asleep ever since, but still holding onto those bells, you were planning to hide them from him for a while just for your sanity’s sake.

You try to stay quiet, motioning for Law to do the same as you attempt to remove the bells from your little boy, gently opening his hands and only making the bells rattle as soon as you’ve freed them and set them on the coffee table. He starts to stir and fuss just a bit, but Law quickly hushes and calms Rosi down, it’s like he never even started waking at all. You love to watch Law with him, sometimes he’s the only one who can calm Rosi down and while it can frustrate you, it makes you happy to watch them bond.

“I think he had fun today.”

“Yeah,” Law scoffs while you sit beside him, rolling his eyes a little as well, “He sure had fun ringing those bells in my ears the whole time I held him.”

You laugh a bit as Law grumbles about the bells, shaking your head and stroking your baby boy’s hair while he continues to sleep. In the same way you love to watch Law with him, Law feels the same with the two of you. He was never really sure about having kids of his own, but when you came into his life, Law realized he wanted all of the family life stuff that he’d missed out on when he was younger, and he wanted all of it with you.

Holidays were always difficult for Law, after losing his family and then Cora-san, he never wanted to celebrate after all of that even when he met Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, then the rest of his friend group. They’d all try but never could convince him to join in the festivities, he’d always reject the ideas they came up with and went along just to not be alone during the Christmas season.

Then Shachi brought you along one day when everyone was hanging out and you immediately attached yourself to Law, trying to drag him along for whatever holiday plans they had, because you hated the idea of anyone being alone during that time. Law still doesn’t know why, but he went along with you, kept doing so through the whole season even with the thought in his mind that after the holidays were over you’d disappear back into your shared job with Shachi, but the new year came and went, and you continued to hang around all of them, especially Law.  It led to you asking him out and his agreeing, which led even further to your marriage and now your son Rosi being in your lives, all in the matter of three years.

With this year being Rosi’s first Christmas, even though the eight-month-old doesn’t get it, Law hopes he’s enjoying himself, but he wishes his family and Cora-san were here for it. He knows his mother would be doing every to make this the best first Christmas for Rosi, his father would probably be telling stories about past Christmases, Lami would absolutely want to take her nephew to all the Christmas events around, and even Cora-san would be working to make this holiday the best for your son.

It's still hard for him, but you and Rosi are making things easier, better for Law.

“Law? Are you okay?”

You’re able to tell when Law starts to get lost in his head, in the thoughts of what’s missing, you try to bring him back to the here and now when it happens, so you don’t lose him to those worries and the pain that still lingers after so long. You’ve noticed that just having your son has helped with it too, it seems like Law gets lost to those thoughts much less often now.

But with the distant look he had before you said his name, you knew it was happening again, even when he shrugs and looks back to little Rosi starting to wake and rub his eyes with his little hands.

“…I just miss my family…”

“Oh, Law…”

“I wish they were here…”

“I know, my love.”

“All of them,” Law takes a shaky breath, forcing back whatever tears try to slip out, while you rest your hand on and stroke his cheek, listening to him, “My parents and Lami…and Cora-san…They would have loved you both…”

“I know they’re all so proud of you, Law,” you lean over and kiss his cheek, before taking Rosi from him as your son coos and giggles at you, “They’d be so happy to see that you’re happy, to know you and Rosi are well, and I’m sure they’d want you to be enjoying his first Christmas.”

Law knows you’re right, watching you start to talk to and smile at Rosi, making him smile in return. He’s told you everything about his family, you’ve been so understanding and loving ever since he first told you the story, sometimes he wonders how much you told your parents since they’re always so nice when you go to their house, but he also thinks it’s just because they actually like him. He doesn’t mind going to see them, more recently your mom wants to give all her attention to Rosi and your dad takes to trying to connect with Law more, he really enjoys it.

“Hey,” looking up at Law, you give him a smile when Rosi starts to reach for him, needs “Let’s go see your parents tomorrow, after we’ve opened gifts.”

“Yeah? You want to?”

Nodding, Law sets a hand on Rosi’s head before leaning over to kiss his forehead and do the same to you.

“Yeah. It’ll be good to spend the day with family.”

Nothing makes you happier at that moment than to hear that from Law, and you agree that it would be a good idea, so long as you can make Rosi leave the jingle bells at home. You’re not sure your parents would like to hear that sound all day.

[nightmare-of-homophobes]

The Mistletoe Adventures – Coven Polycule & Teen

Words: 1,2k

Just a lil something bc I really wanted to write something about the coven with a Christmas theme.

Not beta-read, but hope y'all enjoy!

***

It was Billy’s idea to put mistletoes in the coven’s house. He thought it would be funny to hide two or three of them in random room’s so he could, sometimes, just wait for his victims. He quickly grew bored since the witches weren't falling for his joke, but he didn’t give up on it.

Enchanting one of his mistletoes to float around the house, he knew there was no way the women wouldn’t fall for his joke now. And he was right.

The first to fall for it were Alice and Jen. They were in Jen’s room when the mistletoe sneaked in. Alice sat on Jen's dressing table, looking up at the other woman doing her makeup. They were going out that night and Jen, after affectionately criticising Alice's poor abilities in putting makeup on herself, managed to convince the youngest to let her do the makeup part in both of them.

It was only when Jen was putting a dark shade of red on Alice's lips, that the cop noticed the mistletoe floating above Jen's head. She tapped on the other's hip softly.

– What? – Jen whispered, focused on her task.

Alice pointed up with her finger and Jen, finishing with the lipstick, looked up.

– Oh, you must be kidding. – she exclaimed.

– It wasn't you? – Alice asked, thinking it was Jen the one to put the mistletoe there.

– No, it doesn't even match my ceiling, why would I put it there? – Jen answered.

They spent some seconds staring at it, as if waiting for it to go away. Jen waved her hand, trying to push it with her magic but it was worthless.

– Do you think it was Agatha? – Alice asked.

– Only if it spills poison on us after the kiss. – Jen said. They both were still eyeing the mistletoe suspiciously.

– Think it only has one way to discover, right? – Alice said and her hands found Jennifer's waist immediately.

The older woman laughed and let herself be pulled to Alice's lap, leaning in to kiss her red lips. It was a soft, loving kiss and when they separated themselves, they kept waiting for something to happen. When nothing came, they laughed at their silliness.

– Oh, look, it's moving… – Alice said pointing out the mistletoe, which dropped two of his berries in its way.

Jen opened the door so it could leave the room.

– That was interesting. – Alice finally spoke.

Jen returned to the woman, sighing and placing her hands on the other’s shoulders.

– Yeah, but now I’ll have to fix both our lipsticks.

Alice shrugged.

– Well, it was worth it.

Getting out of Jen’s bedroom, the mistletoe found Rio going down the stairs and started following her. She looked at it amused, already knowing who did that trick by the signature magic on it.

She prowled around the house for some time with the mistletoe hovering above her head, the little plant not bothering her in the slightest. She could spend the whole day with it but, when she found Agatha, the brunette was quick to free her from it, kissing her as a greeting with a whispered: “let me free you from this”. She took another two berries from it, placing one in Rio's hand.

Of course she wasn’t expecting the mistletoe to start following her as an answer to her following the tradition.

– What? – she looked up at it. She thought it was all a joke from Rio to get a kiss from her. – I thought it was yours.

Rio chuckled and shook her head.

– Try again. – she said.

Agatha frowned and then hit her.

– Billy.

– Billy, indeed.

– Yeah, I think he noticed his first attempts didn’t work. – she commented. – Well, I'm gonna find someone to give this to.

– You always have me. – Rio suggested.

– I can find you once I get rid of it. – Agatha said, pushing her off. – The idea of making out while Maximoff's signature magic floats above my head isn’t appealing.

Rio tilted her head as if acknowledging her point.

Agatha went inside the house, leaving Rio to busy herself with the garden or with her job or with whatever she wanted to do. She was hoping to bump into one of the other witches, but preferably not Jen.

To her luck, though it scared the shit out of her, when she was passing by the kitchen, someone grabbed her and smooched her air out of her. She didn't have to open her eyes to know who grabbed her.

– Lilia! – she yelped out of shock.

– Didn't see that coming? – the woman laughed to herself as she let go of the younger woman.

– Hahaha… – Agatha mocked her while rolling her eyes. – At least you got this out of it. – she pointed to the mistletoe.

Lilia finally noticed it.

– Oh… – she let out while getting on her tiptoes to take a berry from it. She kept staring at it before returning her widened eyes to Agatha. – And where did it come from?

– Billy. – the name came out of the brunette's mouth, but she noticed Lilia mumbled it along with her. – Oi, if you ask something, you wait for them to answer before seeing through them, you weirdo. – she reached up to take a berry too. The mistletoe had only half of its berries now.

Lilia was used to Agatha’s demeanor, so she just scoffed.

– I can return the mistletoe back to you. – she threatened to approach the taller one to kiss her again.

Agatha jumped at her place.

– Tag, you're it. – she said disappearing from the kitchen.

The seer only chuckled to herself. She wasn't the slightest bit bothered by the mistletoe. In fact, she kissed a lot of women under mistletoes before and that came to be one of her favourite traditions.

Twirling the mistletoe berry in her hand, an idea popped into her mind. Smiling conspiratorially to herself, she lifted one of her hands and waved at the plant, changing its behaviour from its previous settings.

That would be a lot more fun.

When Billy noticed the absence of the mistletoe under his power, he imagined he had been caught. What he didn't imagine or expect, when he went to visit the witches the next day, was to find a very amused Lilia going through her day around the house with his mistletoe floating locked to her presence - placing itself between her and the other witches whenever was favourable.

He almost couldn't hold his laughter back at the woman taking advantage of his joke to steal kisses from their girlfriends as if they weren't already melted enough by Lilia without that. He was even more amused when he realized the mistletoes’ berries always growing back when someone took them after a kiss.

– Do you think they'll take too long to notice it? – Lilia asked him when they got on the sofa together, preparing to watch their show - Billy convinced her to watch it and now they reunite once a week to do it.

– Hmm, maybe, you're doing a great job with the whole thing of putting the mistletoe to float around the house sometimes… – he answered before shoving a caramel on his mouth. – And they're very stupid when they want to be.

– Y’ah... – Lilia agreed while shoving the mistletoe away for a moment. – It was a great idea of yours, tho.

– Thank you. – Billy bumped his shoulder against the woman softly and they chuckled to themselves before focusing on their show.

The witches indeed were stupid enough to not notice Lilia was the one now controlling the mistletoe until two days after it.

.

.

.

.

[silenzahra]

✨🎄🎅🏻 Christmas celebrations 🎅🏻🎄✨

Last year I shared on my old blog a short headcanon post about Mario and Luigi exchanging presents. Since it got lost, I thought it'd be good to bring it back to celebrate this special season, and I decided to expand on it and include our beloved princesses! 💖

@vulpixfairy1985 my dear big sister, you'll find here a little nod to your beautiful Luaisy story that I can never get enough of. It's very brief, but iI hope you'll like it! 🥰

@megamagimugi @peaches2217 @itsavee4117 @bberetd @pepperycar @smokszyvverstar @c-lavanda @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54 @doodleydoo101 Hope it's okay that I tag you in case you'd like to read this! Feel free to ignore it if you're not interested 🙏🏻💖

Merry Christmas everybody and I hope you enjoy! 🎅🏻🎄🎁

Christmas for Mario and Luigi 💚❤️

Christmas has always been very important and special to Mario and Luigi. Ever since they were little, they enjoyed opening presents together every Christmas morning, celebrating the holiday with their entire family, and playing in the snow, whether it's building snowmen or having snowball wars. Each year, their mother also gives them hand-knitted Christmas sweaters for their birthday in October, so that they can wear them during the holiday celebration.

This tradition has continued into their adulthood. Luigi still proudly wears the garments made by his mom, with designs of reindeer or snowmen and bright green and red colors, not only because those are the brothers' favorite colors, but also because they’re the ones that best represent Christmas. Mario, on the other hand, feels that he’s too old to wear this kind of sweaters, but he’s well aware of the affection with which his mother knits them, so he wears them at family celebrations as a token of gratitude and appreciation for her work.

Luigi never misses an opportunity to tease his brother about this, and often gives him nicknames like “Rudolph” or “Olaf”, depending on what their mom has knitted on his twin’s sweater that year. Mario, though he grunts a bit at first, thus also earning the nickname “Grinch”, eventually teases Luigi back by calling him “Christmas tree”, since his clothes tend to be mostly green. The times when his brother dubs him “Santa Claus” for wearing a red sweater with a design of Santa Claus, the white beard embossed, Mario doesn’t miss the chance to call his sibling “Santa's elf” and starts giving him orders to get to work on this or that toy. It’s then Luigi’s turn to look resigned while Mario laughs.

When they were children, no matter what presents each one received, they always shared them: a ball, some crayons, some toy dinosaurs... Even the books, since Luigi, an avid reader from a very young age, would read them to Mario when they went to bed, even if his brother fell asleep in the middle of the story. Besides, their parents always made sure to give them at least two gifts that were, from the beginning, for both of them.

When they turned ten, their parents began to involve them, separately, in choosing the perfect gift for each other, asking them what they thought their brother would like to receive so that they could help Santa Claus a little. In this way, Mario has on more than one occasion chosen the books that his twin was most eager to read as soon as possible, while Luigi has decided on a racing car or a specific pencil box that he thought his brother might like best.

Over the years, the twins began to cooperate to choose gifts for their relatives, and, more or less subtly, they try to question each other to see what they could give to the other. Luigi always notices when his brother is trying to find out if he’s interested in this or that book, or maybe if he needs some new clothes to wear that year, but he doesn't mind pretending he’s completely oblivious and makes sure to give Mario more than one option to choose from. Mario, on the other hand, never notices when Luigi is probing him and always answers in a distracted manner, keeping most of his attention on whatever he's doing at the moment. This makes it easier for Luigi to choose the perfect gift for his twin.

As the date approaches, however, Luigi can't help but feel more and more intrigued to find out what his big brother will give him. The excitement bubbles up inside him the same way it did when he was a little boy, and before he knows it, he finds himself chasing Mario around the house they share in the Mushroom Kingdom, fists clenched under his chin and eyes sparkling as he questions him incessantly, wearing, of course, his Christmas sweater from that year.

“What are you going to give me this year? What's your present? Can you give me a hint? Is it big? Is it square? Can it be carried in your pocket? What does it smell like? Does it have letters on it? Is it warm? Is it green or purple? You know those are my favorite colors, right?”

Faced with such an avalanche of questions, Mario just smiles and gives him a look full of affection, but also of amusement.

“Yes, Lu, of course I know,” he replies nonchalantly.

“So?” Luigi insists, enthusiastic.

“So what?”

“Are you going to give me a clue? Even if it's a tiny one. Pretty please?”

Luigi's puppy eyes and the childish tone with which he elongates the last word are close to cracking Mario's relaxed facade, so, to restrain himself, he turns around with a sigh while he shakes his head.

“I'm sorry, Lu,” he replies lightly. “I forgot.”

“What do you mean you forgot!?”

The incredulous and desperate tone of his little brother always makes Mario have to resort to all his power of self-control to keep from breaking into laughter.

“I'm sorry,” he says without turning around, shrugging. “It's just that I have a very bad memory.”

“Bad memory?” Luigi exclaims, frustrated. “Who are you, Dory?”

At that point, Mario is never able to hold back a snort, but the way Luigi crosses his arms and even pouts in frustration fills him with tenderness inside. Unable to resist any longer, he ends up putting an arm around his twin as he starts tickling him with his free hand, which makes Luigi burst out laughing as he tries to get away from him. And Mario, of course, catches his outrageous laughter.

At other times, it is Luigi who comes to Mario with a smug and satisfied expression, very proud of having already prepared his present and eager to mess around with his brother a little.

“You know what, Mario? Santa Claus has already stopped by!” he announces excitedly. “And guess what? He left something for you! You have a surprise waiting for you under the tree. Aren't you dying of curiosity?”

He always says it crooning and in a funny tone, wanting Mario to play along and see if he can give him a hint, or even give it back to him with an “Oops, sorry, I forgot!”

But Mario knows him too well and doesn't fall for it. Even though he is, in fact, dying of curiosity inside, he usually finds a way to easily turn the tables.

“Yes, I think I've seen him too! He actually left something for you as well.”

And so Mario is once again met with an excited, pleading Luigi, making puppy eyes and pouting, proving that his inner child is still very much alive.

Even so, Mario adores his brother so much that, more and more, he tends to give in and brings out his eagerness that Luigi has prepared a present for him. For Mario, however, the greatest gift is undoubtedly seeing Luigi's happy face when he finally plays along and lets his enthusiasm shine.

When Christmas morning arrives, Luigi is always the more excited of the two when he opens his present. After all, whatever it is, it's a gift from his big brother, which automatically makes it the most important thing in the world to Luigi, his new favorite thing from then on. Mario could give him a piece of loose slab and Luigi would treasure it as his most prized possession.

So, whenever he unwraps his gift, Luigi squeals and eagerly hugs the object, usually a book, against his chest as he jumps for joy. Then, still springing, he opens his arms wide and squeezes his brother tightly, dragging him into his silly hops. Mario not only reciprocates, but when it's his turn, he also gets extremely excited and hugs his little brother even tighter, even lifting him off the ground. Neither of them can stop loudly laughing.

Christmas in the Mushroom Kingdom 🎅🏻🤶🏻

Since arriving in the Mushroom Kingdom, the brothers have introduced some of the customs of their homeland to their new home, including Christmas. This one is Peach's favorite, not only for the giving and receiving of presents, but for the message of peace, joy and warmth it conveys and the importance of sharing, helping others and enjoying the company of loved ones.

Peach has been included in Mario and Luigi's family Christmas Eve dinners since the first year the brothers spent in her kingdom, as have Toad, Toadette and Toadsworth. The whole family immediately made them feel welcome and included, and Mia, the brothers' mother, gave them each Christmas sweaters that they could also wear during this holiday, matching Mario, Luigi and, in fact, all the members of the family.

Their kindness only increased the princess' devotion to this celebration. She felt the desire to celebrate something similar in the Mushroom Kingdom so that all the Toads would know this beautiful tradition and get into the Christmas spirit.

So, as the brothers explained more about this holiday, Peach decided that she herself was going to take on the role of Santa Claus and make sure that all the Toads in her kingdom could enjoy a happy, warm and friendly Christmas Eve and Christmas.

Every year, Mario, Luigi and Peach decorate the kingdom together and invite all the Toads to participate. They put tinsel on lampposts and trees, hang garlands from the streets, and sometimes the engage each other in snowball battles that end with everyone making snow angels and building a big snowman together. In addition, in the center of the main square, they place a huge tree, crowned by a shining star, which Peach makes sure is always lit up, day and night. She thinks that, in this way, any Toad who looks at it at any time of the day will be able to perceive the warmth that emanates from it and will feel accompanied and, if needed, comforted.

On Christmas Eve, after the family dinner in Brooklyn, Peach goes to her castle and puts on a red dress, similar to the one she usually wears every day, but with long sleeves and the edges of her long red skirt made of white wool. She puts on white gloves, a red jacket whose edges are also made of wool and a belt to adjust it better and to be well protected from the cold. She covers her legs with white stockings and protects her feet with red boots, and replaces her turquoise earrings with golden ones, more in keeping with the festivity. Finally, Peach replaces her regal crown with a red hat, adorned with a white tassel on the end, and goes to the back door of her castle without anyone, not even the ever-vigilant Toadsworth, noticing her absence.

There she meets up with Mario and Luigi. They’ve already loaded a large sack full of gifts onto the Odyssey ship, guarded by Polterpup, to whose red collar Luigi has added a mistletoe ornament. Mario's outfit, very similar to Peach's, was, in fact, the main source of inspiration for the princess, who decided that, of course, she had to match her favorite plumber on such a special night. The only difference, apart from the fact that he wears pants, is that Mario always includes the white beard, which creates a curious contrast with his black mustache that the princess finds amusing and cute. To her, Mario is the perfect Santa Claus, and she can never help but pinch his cheek affectionately when she sees him dressed like this every Christmas Eve. And she loves it even more that Mario always blushes after her gesture.

Luigi, next to his brother, discreetly giggles before greeting Peach with a hug. The woman thinks her friend is the second best Santa Claus in the world, but only because, true to his style, Luigi’s suit is entirely green, including his hat, although it doesn't make him look any worse. Peach knows for certain that there’s at least one person who finds Luigi to be the best Christmas Santa, and, in fact, it is to her home that they head before she and Mario start the delivery.

Daisy waits for them every Christmas Eve at the top of her castle in the center of Sarasaland, her kart ready to take flight, just waiting for Luigi and Polterpup to arrive to meet her. Even though these meetings are usually quick, Peach and Mario always set aside a few minutes to chat with her, after, of course, Daisy has greeted Luigi with a tight hug and a passionate kiss, which, this time, causes Luigi to blush and Mario to chuckle.

Mario and Peach then return to the Odyssey and begin their nighttime adventure through the Mushroom Kingdom.

The princess knows each and every one of her subjects so well that she knows exactly what to get them for Christmas. For the children, of course, there are a wide variety of gifts, and Peach could never tire of seeing their excited faces when they see her and Mario arrive and when, after unwrapping their presents, they find the toy they were most looking forward to getting, be it a doll, a racing car, a ball or, in some cases, a book.

In those moments, watching Mario interact with the children, deep in his role as Santa Claus, joking, wishing them happy holidays, patting their Toad heads affectionately and enjoying the mirth and eagerness they give off, Peach feels herself falling more and more in love with Mario. It's as if he himself were a child too, as if, in fact, he had an even better time than the kids on that special night. And, of course, with the parents, the young Toads and the couples, Mario is the most polite person in all the universes and makes sure, too, to offer them a gift that is to their liking, as well as some warm laughter that he concludes with a resounding “Ho ho ho!”

When it's the turn of the older Toads, the princess knows very well that what they crave most on such a special night is company. For her, and she knows it’s the same for Mario too, it’s always a pleasure to visit them, sit with them by the fire and share a few minutes of calm chatting. They always go out of their way to make them feel comfortable in their homes, and Peach tries to bring them some new woolen clothes to get them through the cold winter. Mario, for his part, makes sure to shower them with Christmas sweets typical of his homeland.

Peach loves every second of Christmas and how it has allowed her not only to meet people she now considers her family, but also to get closer to her subjects, have the opportunity to talk to them for a few moments and find new ways to make sure they are happy in the Mushroom Kingdom and never lack anything.

And, of course, she also enjoys the moments aboard the Odyssey ship, where her own Santa Claus does his utmost to keep her warm, snug and comfortable. Peach enjoys sitting with him and simply watching the kingdom out the window together, reveling in the company of her favorite hero and plumber on the most magical night of the year.

Sometimes Peach even dares to go a step further and take Mario's hand in hers.

And her heart flutters when he not only doesn't pull away, but gives her a gentle but firm squeeze, conveying to her that, for him, that night is also much more special since he can share it with her.

Christmas in Sarasaland 🛷🎇🎈

Ever since Luigi first told Daisy about Christmas, the princess of Sarasaland declared herself the number one fan of the holiday.

Although at first no one in her household is familiar with Christmas, Daisy decides to go all out. After an afternoon of shopping in Brooklyn driving Luigi crazy with everything she wants to acquire, Daisy takes him with her to Sarasaland and asks him to help her decorate not only her castle in the Chai Kingdom, but the entire empire. To do so, she invites Luigi to stay in Sarasaland for a few days and he, delighted to help her and share the Christmas excitement with her, agrees, always accompanied by his faithful and adored Polterpup.

They get down to work right away, so that, with Christmas still more than a month away, all of Sarasaland is decorated from top to bottom with bright lights, colorful garlands and a gigantic Christmas tree in every central square of every capital city of each of the four kingdoms that make up Daisy's home. The young princess spares no expense, and Luigi enjoys decorating Sarasaland with her and strolling through its streets once the lights are on, sharing a hot chocolate with Daisy and with the always cheerful and giggly Polterpup trotting around them.

Daisy loves how Luigi's eyes sparkle even more brightly when the Christmas glow lights them up.

Daisy soon becomes a guest in Mario and Luigi's family home as her relationship with the younger plumber begins to take hold. Like Peach, Daisy soon wins the hearts of all the brothers' relatives, and when Mia surprises her with her own personified Christmas sweater, the squeal of excitement that escapes her can be heard in the entirety of Sarasaland from Brooklyn. She immediately puts it on and decides that, even though crafts aren't her thing, she wants to learn to sew those sparkly sweaters herself to join in the tradition of giving them as Christmas presents.

At that moment it is impossible to determine who is happier: Mia, for having a new disciple, or Luigi, for seeing his girlfriend follow in his footsteps. After all, he also learned to sew thanks to his mother, and he can't get over the joy of having someone else to share his enthusiasm for Christmas with besides Mario.

From Brooklyn, Daisy always sets off straight back to Sarasaland to get everything ready for what has become her favorite night of the year. The Christmas spirit nested in her from the moment her boyfriend told her about this holiday for the first time, almost more intensely than inside Luigi himself, and impatience devours her throughout the year as she’s forced to wait for the right moment to hand out presents, sweets and celebrate Christmas properly.

So, when it's finally time, Daisy lives it to the fullest.

As Sarasaland is mostly warm, the winters are not usually very cold, so Daisy doesn't need to bundle up too much. A thick red dress with a couple of white buttons and black stockings is enough for her, and, following Peach's advice, she decided to have the edges of her skirt and sleeves made of white wool. Over her shoulders she wears a shawl of the same color that is fastened with a flower-shaped brooch, matching her earrings, and she covers her feet with red boots with white edges, also Peach's recommendation.

In contrast, unlike her friend, Daisy replaces her crown with a red cloche-like hat topped by a white tassel and with a sprig of mistletoe attached as an ornament. That way, whenever she sees Luigi, Daisy has the perfect excuse to kiss him, and she does take advantage of it.

Mario and Peach bring her dear boyfriend to her in the Odyssey ship, and although Polterpup always jumps out first to greet her, Daisy only has eyes for her green Santa, as she calls him. She loves how well his costume suits him, and most of all, she adores how good he looks with his fake white beard. Daisy has even wondered what Luigi would look like if he chose to grow a beard someday. She's sure it would make him look... interesting.

Before her friends take their leave to carry out their mission in the Mushroom Kingdom, Daisy hugs Peach tightly and wishes her all the happiness in the world. To Mario, on the other hand, she gives a shocked look.

“My God, Mario!” she exclaims, pointing to a spot on his jacket at the level of his stomach. “What a stain!”

“What!?”

Mario looks down, equal parts bewildered and alarmed, and that's when Daisy quickly reaches up to tap him on the nose. She starts laughing before she even finishes her prank, but Mario's gesture of resignation and exhaustion is so funny, and Luigi's laughter is so outrageous, that Daisy ends up joining him and emitting thunderous guffaws that must surely be heard by everyone in Sarasaland. Even her friend Peach has trouble holding back her laughter, and Daisy is well aware that this is what ends up causing Mario himself to burst out laughing as well.

And then, at last, comes Daisy's favorite moment.

Seconded by Polterpup's excited barking, the princess grabs Luigi by the hand and pulls him into her kart. It’s thanks to him, in fact, that her racing vehicle is the perfect Christmas sleigh to fly over all of Sarasaland in one night. Daisy wanted it to be larger, so that everyone could fit comfortably and have room for the sack of presents as well, and she deeply wished it could fly in order to reach all the corners of her vast empire and none of its inhabitants would be left without celebrating Christmas.

And Luigi, her perfect and wonderful boyfriend, truly her green Santa Claus, made it possible.

Daisy already knew about her favorite plumber’s mechanical skills but witnessing them first hand is something very different. Luigi has not only made her wish to take to the skies to deliver presents to her subjects come true, but he’s also remodeled the kart in such a way that it really looks like the sleigh of Santa Claus himself: he’s painted it red, respecting Daisy’s floral logo on the front, and has placed tinsel on the door, on top of the seats and even on the turbos that allow it to fly. He’s added a back seat to carry the gift sack and his beloved Poltergust 3000, and on both sides of the vehicle, each year he prepares a handful of balloons that he places on the outside. Green and gold, both colors that hold a special meaning for them and remind them of a dance among bubbles under the starlight.

Since Luigi is the artist and, moreover, the guest, Daisy opens the door with an exaggerated bow for him to be the first to get on the kart-sled. She, however, is the driver, and she loves to accelerate and feel the wind in her face as soon as the vehicle takes flight. In fact, she almost always lets go of the steering wheel and stretches her arms out to the sides, laughing nonstop, which makes Luigi gasp and freak out a little. She turns to him with her cheeks hurting from the joy she feels at that moment, and Luigi, even though he’s clinging with one hand to the edge of the sled and with the other to Polterpup, who is panting happily, only needs to look at her for a second to slowly forget the panic that rules his features.

The smile full of love and tenderness that blooms on his face only increases Daisy's bliss.

When they’re high in the sky, the princess presses the button next to the steering wheel. Immediately, she hears behind her as the kart-sled begins to throw fireworks that, she hopes, will alert the inhabitants of the Chai Kingdom that Christmas has finally arrived. For a second, Daisy wishes she were down there so she could see in all their splendor the Christmas shapes Luigi designed for the fireworks, but, deep down, she wouldn't trade being up there for anything.

Especially because she gets to be with him.

After a couple of laps to make sure everyone in the kingdom is still awake and ready, Daisy exchanges a quick knowing glance with Luigi and they both nod in unison, smiling. The princess quickly activates the autopilot and they both turn to the back of the kart-sled. Luigi is the first to reach into the gift sack: he pulls out a new handful of balloons, green and red this time, and takes hold of the Poltergust to inflate them. As he does so, he releases them into the Sarasaland night sky, so that they serve as a sort of ornament framing the fireworks.

Meanwhile, Daisy hauls in the presents and, just as she pulls them out of the sack, she starts dropping them on either side of the sleigh. She doesn't hold back and shamelessly imitates Santa's laughter at full force, which only causes Luigi to burst out laughing. That, in turn, motivates Daisy to increase her “Ho ho ho!”, delighted to make her green Santa laugh.

And Polterpup, euphoric at all the excitement, jumps and barks all around them, trying to catch the balloons before Luigi releases them and peeking all the time on both sides of the sleigh to watch the presents fall into the hands of their new owners.

Daisy and Luigi repeat the same operation in Birabuto, Easton and Muda, the other three kingdoms that make up Sarasaland, and both continue to have a wonderful time and enjoy themselves like little kids. Daisy feels that the holiday is even more special because she can spend it that way with her adored boyfriend and share a night of laughter and fun with him. She knows she’s lucky to have Luigi in her life and that he’s brought a whole new world for her, one filled with magic and fantasy that keeps her inner child very much alive. Daisy thanks every day for having met Luigi and fallen in love with him.

As the sleigh drives them back to her castle in the Chai Kingdom, the sack of gifts completely empty and only the green and gold balloons adorning the sides of the vehicle remaining, Daisy and Luigi's gazes meet, the sound of fireworks echoing around them. The princess, without hesitation, leans toward her green Santa Claus, playfully removes his hat and ruffles his fluffy locks, which always feel so soft to her touch. His hands go up to her waist as he laughs softly, and Polterpup, as if he knows what’s about to happen, moves off Luigi's lap and stands on the front of the kart-sled to enjoy the last moments of flight.

The moon and the stars are witness to the tender but passionate kiss that the princess of Sarasaland and her own personal Santa Claus share at the end of the most special night of the year. The fireworks that illuminate the sky and the glow coming from the festive cities at their feet are their backdrop.

Christmas morning🎄🎁

Despite the fact that they both find it tremendously difficult to separate from their princesses, Mario and Luigi end up returning to the little house they share in the Mushroom Kingdom to, as they do every Christmas morning, open presents together and surprise each other, Polterpup being their constant companion for a few years now. Laughter and barking flood their home as they discover what the other had in store for them on that special day, and of course, Polterpup gets presents too: a collar with a shiny new tag and noisy or squishy toys to play with, both on his own and with his owners.

Christmas mornings are usually a bit slower for the brothers, as they like to take their time sharing hot chocolate and holiday treats while enjoying their gifts and tossing Polterpup his new toys back and forth. Shortly before lunchtime, however, the two get ready to go out again.

First they go to the castle in the Mushroom Kingdom. There, Peach always organizes a small party for all the local Toads to come, if they wish, to share the joy of Christmas. And, of course, as soon as the brothers arrive, she, Toad and Toadette, under Toadsworth’s supervision, rush to bring them their presents. Mario and Luigi are still not quite sure how they do it, but every year, not failing a single time, they all get their gifts right, and the brothers are happy to see that they too have chosen wisely what to give each other that morning.

The Odyssey ship is a hive of activity as Mario and Luigi board it, accompanied by Polterpup, Toad, Toadette, Toadsworth and Princess Peach, and set off for Sarasaland. As cheerful and lively as ever, as if the few hours of sleep she had slept that night had no effect on her, Daisy welcomes them singing and jumping and clapping her hands, showing that she still has plenty of energy. After the initial greetings, including the customary kiss to Luigi, Daisy gives them not one, not two, but three presents each, while letting out squeals of enthusiasm that only prove how much she loves to spread joy and how well she fits the role of Santa Claus.

Christmas morning ends in the same place where Christmas Eve night began: in Brooklyn, at Mario and Luigi's family home, where Mia, their mother, is more than delighted to welcome them all. Greetings turn to laughter, and laughter turns to conversation, and there’s an abundance of jokes, the most delicious food they've ever tasted, huge amounts of gifts, and the warmth of a home overflowing with love.

And, at the center of it all, Mario and Luigi. Two humble plumbers who have become the heroes of many and who, with their affection and camaraderie, have united creatures from different worlds to build the large and warm family they make up today.

[lavendermatchastrife]

Please Come Home For Christmas

summary: you move back to your small town just in time for the holidays and your hot new neighbor gives you a warm welcome!

a/n: I just thought that Gojo deserved to be in a Christmas romcom. This is one part, another will be released later.. probably. Either way this can be read as a standalone. I have not written or published since like 2014, fair warning I usually only write alt characters. Please enjoy my attempt at a corny Christmas romcom.

word count: 14300+

warnings: 18+ mdni, sexual content, unrealistic and corny, reader afab, au!non sorcerers, no beta we die like men, established last name, sensitive topic mentions such as: weight/mental health, insecure!reader, implied/referenced chubby!reader, mentioned/implied Asian reader, inexperienced!reader, cocky!gojo, alcohol use, drunk!reader, drunk!gojo, swearing, gojo lowkey objectifies tf out of reader, obsession if you squint, use of 'you' not 'y/n'

Snow gently falls as you wander outside, looking for the pickup checkpoint. Cold hands rub together while you make your way through the outside of the bustling airport. You breathe a few puffs of warm air onto them, occasionally scanning the crowd for a familiar head of ashen blue hair. A sigh breezes past your mouth, of course your best friend is running late on one of the coldest days of the year so far. A cold day and you had failed to wear a pair of gloves. (In your defense you did just get your nails done.) You sigh once again, and go to grab your stack of luggage to look around for your friend some more. You’d hoped the pickup area would be less crowded considering the abrasive temperatures and slicing winds. Of course that wasn’t the case as countless people flooded the outside of the airport. Christmas was right around the corner, it made sense that it was going to be crowded regardless of where you went. Another sigh wracks your body when someone pushes against you, almost knocking you over. Before you can turn on your heel and give them a piece of your mind however, soft gloved hands obscure your vision from behind. Giggles erupt and the petite frame behind you shakes with their amusement, and you gasp in feigned shock.

 “Guess who~” the singsong voice brings a bright smile to your face.

 “Eve!” you whip around and bring your best friend into a tight embrace. She hugs you back even tighter, and you both hold each other soaking in each other's warmth and company. All care for the world lost on you during this brief reunion. The scent of her favorite perfume invades your senses as you take in a deep breath. Pulling back, your eyes process her appearance for the first time in what felt like decades. In all honesty, you called or video chat almost every day; but it had been so long since you’d actually seen her in person.

 “Oh my god I’ve missed you so much!” She cries out dramatically, pulling you back in for another hug. You chuckle, patting her head while she holds you in place.

 “I missed you too, Eve.” she lets up her hold on you, and you take note of her outfit. Her hair is styled into low hanging twin tails, a white and grey plaid scarf is neatly wrapped around her neck. A dark purple puffer jacket with white fur trim swallows her petite figure, a denim skirt is placed over a pair of thick tights that are surely keeping her warm. 

 You've known Evelyn Days since your childhood. Meeting in some dumb middle school extracurricular (not dumb; it was a book club) and it was like you’d had an instant connection. One seat next to each other and from there it was history. Coincidentally she lived two houses over, and came by whenever she felt like it. Most nights you’d spend at each other’s houses, doing projects; homework; video games; sometimes nothing at all. She was your date to prom. When you moved away from your small town it was hard, not because you particularly liked where you’d grown up; but because you’d found home in Eve. While you were close to your parents for most of your life, you’d had a falling out. Your relationship with your parents became rocky when you’d decided to pack everything up and pursue a career in writing in the big city. Most family members thought you’d been betraying your community. Rather than settle down and start a family, pick up a job at a local business, or further your education for the betterment of your town; you’d left everyone behind. A long time ago you were dead set on becoming a teacher there. Growing up changed your way of thinking, and instead you decided to become a writer. Life felt stagnant and often boring in your small town, it was beautiful and safe, however you couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to live a little more. Your parents eventually saw your side of things, but the time spent with that tension was still hard to think about. Despite the popular opinion of your tight knit community, your friend Eve supported your decision. She was all for your abrupt change in career path and your sudden need to leave. She of course was heartbroken, but knew that it wasn’t goodbye.

 Eve smiles at you, shaking you from your reminiscing, it reaches her eyes and you feel in that moment incredibly happy to be home. You take a hold of your luggage and she helps you with any bags she can carry. As she turns on her heel, leading you out of the airport you catch up on your small town gossip. She tells you all about how Vanessa (your high school bully) still can’t keep a boyfriend. Mr. Choi (your neighbor down the road) passed away almost six months ago. Alma (a mutual friend from high school) is on her second pregnancy; twins. Some kids have been vandalizing the lake, TP-ing the cherry blossom trees. While driving home one piece of juicy gossip piqued your interest a little more than the others.

 Coming from out of state was a handsome, mysterious, new high school teacher.

 “He moved here about 4 months ago. All of the old guys grumbled as soon as they saw his moving van outside of Mr. Choi’s house. You should’ve been there, the whole town gathered at your parent’s place and watched in your front lawn while they moved his stuff in.” She giggles at that, stopping at a red light and turning her head to face you. “No but he’s like… actually incredibly handsome. Even from far away I could tell he was gonna be way too much for our sleepy town.” You believed her, rolling your eyes as she went on about how she just knew he had a tight body. “Oh but that’s beside the point. He’s actually a pretty stand up guy. We all had our doubts, y’know, since he’s not from around here. But he goes to church every Sunday. Bought gifts for his immediate neighbors and paid a visit to the rest to introduce himself. The kids in his class love him. He’s been a pretty great addition to the community.” Her rambling brings a small smile to your face, and as she prattles on about the next person and the next subject you listen with your head turned to look outside of your window. November was looking more like December, snow beginning to fall just a little harsher as the time passed on, gathering in fluffy piles on every street and lawn in sight.

 Your surroundings start to become familiar after an hour of driving, and you feel excitement building up inside of you. Shades of blue, orange, and pink have replaced the bright golden morning, the little bit of farmland you passed through was engulfed by fluffy blankets of shimmering white. As you cross into your small town you’re greeted by the picture perfect Christmas card. A rainbow of  lights decorate the outside and inside of various shops. Big velvety red bows are tied around every iron lamp post. At the center of the town square is a gazebo, sparkling red wreaths are on the pillars of the entry point. The railings have silver and gold lights wrapped around it intertwining with a darker red garland. Christmas was only a couple weeks away, and your town was decked out for the holiday. 

 “The city decided to decorate early this year, did it a week before Thanksgiving.” Eve explains, rolling her eyes as you stare in wonder at the various Christmas light fixtures scattered around the small park surrounding the gazebo.

  “Those weren’t there the last time I visited for the holidays.” You note, turning to look at Eve and pointing in the direction of the lights. You knew your town heavily relied on the income brought in by the season, but they were really going all out.

 “I think they’re hoping to draw in more Christmas tourists or something.” She replies, finally beginning the turn down your road. “Like, a Christmas walk? A family photo event?”

 “Mm, I see.”

 As you near your house, you begin to pass by Mr. Choi’s and you try not to immediately widen your gaze in surprise. Even from a distance you can tell that the man struggling to put up decorations outside of his new house - is quite tall. Muscular but not to an obvious degree in his navy sweater. Bright red ears, a matching pink nose, eyes hidden behind rectangular shaded frames, chin tucked into a comically large cream-colored scarf. Bright white hair tousled about, shit eating grin plastered on his face when he set something up successfully. You didn’t even need to see him up close, you knew this man was gorgeous.

 “Is that our new neighbor?” You ask, trying to mask your interest but of course your friend picks up on your curiosity.

 “Sure is. Quite the looker.” She hums, slowing to a stop to wave at him when you finally pass by.

 He’s on your side of the car, struggling with a roll of string lights this time. His hands are visibly shaking as he throws one end of the chords over the other. When he registers that there’s a window rolled down and someone shouting, “Good afternoon Mr. Gojo!” He begins to jog your way. You hold your breath while turning to your friend and silently will her to roll up your window and move on. The evil look she gave you had you sending a quick prayer up to the sky before finally turning to meet your neighbor. He stops by your window, leaning down and resting a folded arm on the roof of her car to get a good look at you both. His proximity turns your nerves hot, and you lean back slightly away from him. 

 “Well if it isn’t Lil’ Miss Evelyn!” His deep voice rang in your ears, a playful lilt sending warning signals to your brain. He shifts his glasses down, crystalline blue eyes peeking over the rim. 

 “And who might you be?” Gojo tries not to stage at you too hard, but he’s taken aback by the sight of you. Your hair was braided into low pigtails, your pout had a deep burgundy gloss. He could tell you were beautiful as soon as he saw you even from far away, but he was almost winded when he came close to you.

 “I’m-“ Evelyn cuts you off, grabbing your hand and holding it close to her cheek.

 “Why, this is my beautiful wife, finally back in town.” You turn to face her, cheeks tinting pink and you laugh at her remark. You properly introduce yourself to him, and try not to dwell on his gaze that hasn’t left you.

 “Visiting for the holidays?” He asks, his gaze not-so-subtly raking across your face and then over your frame.

 “No, moving back. I figured if I could do my job anywhere, why not home?” You shrug as your response leaves your lips, a lazy and content smile spreading across your features.

 “She’s a writer, a very talented one.” Eve brags, turning her nose up in pride.

 “Oh neat, maybe I’ve read your work?”

 “I doubt it, I’m hardly popular, and I usually only write for children and teens.”

 “Then I’ll have to snag a couple copies.” He insists, pulling his phone out to look

you up. He makes a show of adding your oldest book to his Amazon cart before leaning back down, “you find a decent place in the area, Miss?” His eyes stay locked with yours as he waits for your answer.

 “Oh, just about the coziest place around.“ You point at your parent’s house across the street. “Childhood room, warm meals, rent free. I have it made.” His eyebrows raise at this, cheeky smirk making its way onto his face. You were the pretty eldest daughter of the Manivong’s he’d heard so much about. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Gojo.” You add, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, looking up at him and finally letting your eyes meet his own. He reaches a slender hand out, long fingers grasping your own in a warm handshake.

 “It’s very good to meet you too, Miss.” He replies, winking at you. “Call me Satoru.” You nod in response and silence falls between you both. His hand holds yours, unwavering and you hope your own doesn’t start to sweat. He’s clearly hanging onto your every word and action, your nerves burn with his active perception. Your friend is long forgotten as you both have a staring contest with each other. The cold mid-afternoon air seemingly has no effect on either of you. Unbeknownst to you, Evelyn was being thoroughly entertained by the whole interaction. She’d never seen you so smitten before, and she couldn’t wait to get you alone later for the inevitable talk that would happen.

“You’ll have to drop by some time, I’ve made it a point to get to know all of my neighbors.” He leans in just a little closer, “If you’re anything like your old man, maybe you could help me with some decorating.” He suggests, he sounds playful and you aren’t sure if he’s hitting on you. You weren’t used to interacting much with anyone outside of your immediate circle, let alone the opposite gender. You always had a hard time telling when people were flirting with you or being friendly. Deciding that maybe this Gojo character is just a really friendly man, you attempt to brush off the itchy feeling building up inside of you. However you couldn’t help but be slightly intimidated by his confident aura, so you offer a meek nod.

 “Maybe, if my schedule allows it.” You’d noticed that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and hesitantly you pull your own from his grip.

 “Well if decorating falls through, I'm sure we could find something else to do.” He’s hitting on you so obviously now and it brings just a little bit more warmth to your face. You try to sputter something witty out, however words are lost on you in your slightly flustered state. You look like a goldfish, your eyes wide while your mouth opens and closes with every failed attempt at a response. He soaks it in, smitten by how easily his words effected you. 

 “Well,” Eve decides then to intervene, “we should probably head out. She has a mountain of unpacking to do. I’ll bet her parents are waiting for her.” Eve says, getting ready to pull away. Satoru’s eyes flash with disappointment for a split second, not wanting to part from such a pretty thing. You’d been so easy to tease, so cute under his scrutiny he couldn’t help but mess with you even if it was just for a little while. He was looking forward to being neighbors with you, already.

 “I would hate to keep those two waiting.” Satoru replies, glancing from Eve back to you, “It’s been a pleasure.”

 “Likewise. Have a good night, don’t hurt yourself with all that decorating. Christmas isn’t going anywhere.” you tease, beginning to roll your window up. It wasn’t clever and you were more embarrassed while trying to match whatever playful atmosphere there was than you would’ve been if you had just said something like, “bye see y’round”. Gojo chuckles in response, pale blue eyes peering down at you from those damned rims one final time.

 “I’ll certainly try not to, especially now that I have such a beauty watching me.” He sends you a wink before he’s pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and skulking back to his yard. Your eyes are fixed on his back as Eve peels away, and they can’t seem to leave his broad figure until you’re pulling into your driveway. The very short drive to your house is spent in silence, not uncomfortable but very knowing. You had the feeling that you were in for an earful. You were grateful she’d wait until you were both comfortable in your room to even begin to bring up your vaguely salacious interaction. 

 Much like the other homes in your neighborhood, yours was decked out in various lights and fixtures. Your father had a penchant for detailed displays and Christmas was his favorite holiday. A delicate nativity scene graced the center of your front yard. Various cream colored light-up deer were placed across the rest of the yard. The front porch had dark evergreen garland wrapped around the pillars with a rainbow of sparkling lights, a classic poinsettia wreath hangs on a silver hook at the center of your burgundy front door. A sloppily put together snowman is closest to the steps of the porch, and you wrap your black and white striped scarf around it. As you tug it on tightly the front door suddenly flings open and three children resembling yourself come running after you. “Sis!” They all yell in unison, trying not to stumble over each other as they race into your arms. You wait for them, arms wide stretched and they pummel into you. All four of you fall to the ground, snow catching you and their delighted squeals allow a sigh of relief to finally escape you. It finally felt like you were home. Bumbling squeals and excited rambling fill the empty silence. Rosy cheeks beam up at you. After a good laugh, you four scramble to get back up, while you dust off the snow from yourself and the children you feel the sudden need to turn around. When you do, Gojo is leaning on the railing of his porch. His gaze brings heat to your cheeks once again, and when you meet it you abruptly turn back around. You miss the signature sly smirk he throws your way, before he turns away and into the warmth of his own home.

 “Oh my god, you guys aren’t even in snow suits, where are your jackets?!” Your exclamation brings exasperated groans and naughty giggles spread amongst your siblings. You shuffle them inside, rolling your luggage inside along with Eve. “Shoes off!” You yell at them, when you finally clamber through your doors, excitement buzzing around you; shaking off your own shoes. “Mommy~ Daddy~ your favorite is home!”

 Your home is just the same as you’d last left it. Toys scattered around, various shoes strewn near the front door. A staircase and banister directly in front of the door, leading to the second floor where your old room is. The only difference between your last visit and now are the mountains of Christmas decorations throughout every area. The same evergreen garland wraps around the handrail leading upstairs, multi-color lights wrapped along with it. Wreaths of varying themes are on every door. Leading into the living room that is just a few steps away and to the right of your front door, are snowflakes clearly made by your siblings, hanging from the ceiling or taped to the walls. A mistletoe hangs in the entryway of the living room, and as you pass through it you spot a great big Christmas tree tucked into the corner. Not yet decorated.

 You hear clattering from the kitchen, a few light swears and then your mother is rushing over to you. You’re engulfed in a soft yet firm embrace, and when you hug your mother back your father saunters down the steps from the floor above. He’s in no rush to hug you like your mother, but he smiles while he waits. “Ah, my little girl!” he pulls you in tight while you bury your face into his chest. He smells like cinnamon and a heavy aftershave (of the musk variety) that makes you cringe and pull away in disgust.

 “Whatever that is, smells awful!” you remark, scrunching your nose. He huffs and rolls his eyes mumbling something along the lines of it’s always something with you. “Do you need any help with dinner, mom?” You ask, she shakes her head with a soft smile.

“Oh no dear, you know how I get about my kitchen. Just go get your stuff situated and settle in. I’ll call you guys down when it’s ready.” You don’t have to turn around to know that Eve is buzzing at the end of the staircase, waiting for you to finally follow her up the steps and into your room. You know she’s hardly said a word to your parents, eager to ’talk boys’ with you in what felt like years.

 You turn away from your parents, finally making your way to the steps and sure enough Eve is there. She impatiently grabs your hand and drags you up and around the corner. Your room is on the left side of the second floor and the only one at the end of the hall. Adjacent to a restroom that you’d claimed as your own however it was originally for guests. Nearing your bedroom you pump the breaks, Eve quirks an eyebrow. Her silent question is not lost on you.

 “I just wanna put it out there that I really, truly, honestly don’t know what that was about.” It sounds as if you’re pleading but you aren’t sure if you should be defensive. What is there to even be defensive about? It was just a little flirting. Wasn’t it? It’s not like it was any grand display of attraction. There were a few playfully exchanged sentences. 

 She shakes her head unconvinced, and pulls you into your room, the door already slightly ajar. You stumble in, greeted by video game posters, dark bedding, a large fluffy black rug on oak floors, and an enthusiastic cat. The large tan and brown Maine coon stretches into a big yawn. He then chirps while running up to you, weaving through your legs. He had been taking a nap on your bed, the indent from his resting spot on the corner closest to your door still there.

 “Listen babe,” Eve crawls onto your bed, propping one of your pillows behind her back as she sits against the wall. “you don’t flirt. If you’ve ever thought someone was hot, you’d usually just tell me about it later.”

 “I mean, sure he was attractive-“

 “Let me finish,” you sit next to her, pulling your cat into your lap. “I think he wants you.”

 “You do?” You’re bashful and twiddle with the ends of your fingers a little, peering up at her through your lashes.

 “Oh my god he wants you so bad!” She cries out, and you both erupt into giggles. You laugh at the fact that someone as crazy good looking as Gojo even looked at you. It just felt too good to be true. “He was inviting you over; he wants to hook up with you, I just know it.”

 “I’m not gonna-“

 “You should sleep with him!” You quickly shush her, covering her mouth with your hands. You stare at her horrified, wide eyes and she mirrors them.

 “Shhhhhh, my parents will hear.”

 “Sorry, sorry, but just listen to me. You had a really bad breakup, I think just a little fling could be good for you.”

 “That sounds so easy coming from you.” You sigh, flopping down so that you’re resting with your back flush to the mattress and your legs are draped over Eve’s. Your hair is splayed out, and your cat (Dusty) fiddles with it as you speak. “I have, like, no confidence, plus. I’ve never…gone all the way with anyone before. Messing around is one thing but putting it in scares the hell out of me.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

 “You could just give him some head.” Her suggestion makes you snort, “either way, he was totally into you. He’s never talked to me like that. On top of it, he’s not dating anyone around here.” While she speaks, you decide to go through your boxes. You pull out a towel and travel sized toiletries. Throwing a bag of makeup you found onto the vanity adjacent to your bed, you nod at what she’s saying. You kick your clothes off, feeling the sweat from your layered airport outfit cool your skin once exposed to your slightly chilly room.

 “Would you, y’know-” as her sentence trails off, her eyebrows wiggle with implication.

 “Oh absolutely, but like; in my dreams right?” She scoffs at that, and you defensively ask, “well would you?”

 “Nah, I’m holding out for this super cute friend of his that pops by every couple weekends.” Eve sighs dreamily and you quirk an eyebrow at this. She doesn’t further elaborate and you’re too tired to even ask about that. Rather, you finish getting together a change of clothes for the night, not wanting to look sweaty and awful for your first dinner with your family in ages. The black bra you wore accentuates the curves of your breasts rather nicely before they’re hidden behind your carefully wrapped towel; and Eve of course is no stranger to this revelation, “Did you go up a cup size?”

 “Mhm, yep. Thank you for noticing, it’s all the carbs from that bakery near my old place. It was a real problem.” You sigh again for what feels like the billionth time, recalling your binge eating during the worst parts of your most recent breakup. Your long term boyfriend had cheated on you, in your own bed, a tale as old as time. You were miles away from any support system you had, and the only comfort you’d found was through constant snack runs. Snack runs, romantic comedies, and so many tissue boxes. As a result of this you’d put on more pounds than you’d care to ever admit. During the lowest point you had decided that enough was enough and began exercising more. Not working out at a gym by any means, god knows that you did not have the capacity nor the commitment for that. You walked more, and did Chloe Ting workouts in your room when you were feeling motivated enough. “You’d think that considering I’m much more active, I’d have lost more weight. These tits just won’t go away.”

 “More o’ you to love.” You roll your eyes while she suggestively bites her lip. You tell her you’ll be back, and go to take a much needed shower. Washing away the dirt and grime from your long day eases the tension in your shoulders. Your soap smells like lavender, the scent and steam filling your bathroom almost instantly. When you finish, you walk back into your room with your freshly dried hair and a towel still wrapped around you. You shimmy on slightly flared black pants, and you thank whatever is out there that the black turtleneck you chose for the night is the same shade. Finally after throwing on a random (black and white polka dot) pair of fuzzy socks, you get started on your makeup. It’s a simple wing, just to boost your confidence if anything. You keep your base a tinted moisturizer rather than a full coverage one, not wanting to go through the pain of setting everything with powder tonight. Dark brown lines your lips and you pop a matching shade of brown gloss. Feeling content with your freshened up appearance, you adjust your facial piercings back into place. Right as you finish up, your mother’s voice calls to you from outside of your door. A gentle rap against it follows her voice.

 “-would you mind running a plate over to Satoru? Dinner is ready, I'm just waiting for it to cool off a little before serving everyone else.” Your eyes widen in panic, she wants me to run dinner over to him? You don’t feel ready to see your dangerously handsome neighbor so soon. You open your door trying to remain as inconspicuous about your raging emotions as possible, “why, don’t you look lovely dear, did you go up a cup size?”

 “She sure did!” Eve replies still propped against your wall and resting on your bed, the fluffy cat now in her lap. “She would love to take Mr. Gojo a plate of food.” You whip your head around, squinting at her as if to say “you’re dead to me” and she sticks her tongue out at you. You groan quietly before turning back to your mother.

 “I’ve only just met him, do you think that’s a good idea? Won’t it be awkward?”

 “Oh he is a very sweet boy, I doubt you’ll have any problems. Now go get bundled up, it’s gotten colder out there.” Your mother insists, thrusting a hot container of food into your hands. It’s glass, and you’re grateful for the cloth keeping your fingers from being burnt but it’s still very hot to the touch. You don’t protest, if you did you know you’d tip her off. You were the one that always greeted your neighbors, brought leftovers, ran errands for everyone over the years, it’d be strange if you were suddenly opposed to it. “I feel so bad for that poor boy, still doesn’t have a real friend around here. All he does is work, or help out around town. ‘Least I can do is give him some dinner.” Your mother was too sweet for her own good. You hum in response, resigning yourself to the task thrust into your hands. Her bleeding heart was almost sickening. You decide to throw on your grey puffy jacket again, and matching fuzzy earmuffs. Black gloves hug your fingers, when you grab onto the container of food once again you’re thankful for the lack of heat. Your mother retreats down the steps and you close the door, taking a deep breath.

 “Oh my god you’re gonna do it.” Eve teases when you turn back around to her, your red face doesn’t help whatever denial spills from your lips. “Oh my god this is so exciting.” Her jittering frame full of excitement only further adds to your growing anxiety.

 “We’re not doing anything, I’m just being neighborly.”

❄️

Eve’s knowing look haunts you when you find yourself making the small trek to Gojo’s house. The lights are on, smoke coming from the chimney. His Christmas lights, that he’d successfully installed along the railing of his porch; twinkle in tune with your beating heart. You buzz his doorbell, staring at the silver and grey tinsel wreath hanging from his white front door.

 You’re just being neighborly.

 You’re just being neighborly.

 You’re just being-

 The door opens, and instead of staring at the pretty wreath it’s replaced by a slightly dampened shirt clinging onto a muscular chest. You gulp, and your eyes trail up.

 “Hello.” You start when he doesn’t say anything immediately, already feeling awkward.

 “Good evening, Miss.” Gojo’s deep voice is sultry, a stark contrast to his cheerful tone from earlier. He sounded tired. It’d gotten darker as the hours passed, the soft twinkling from the Christmas lights doused his features into an ethereal glow. He’d showered, his hair clearly still damp, and a towel hung over his shoulders. “I see you got all dolled up just to see lil ol’ me!” His teasing implication short circuits your brain. Your mouth runs dry, you forget what you were supposed to say.

 “I-“ you look quickly from his chest to his eyes back to his chest and then away, “do you like stew?”

 “Pardon?” Gojo leans against the frame of his door, his languid pose only accentuating the muscles previously hidden by his winter coat. You really do try to keep your eyes level with his own, but if they drift could anyone blame them?

 “My mother made stew,” you bring the glass dish forward, “well it’s either soup or it’s stew; I can’t remember. It’s hot so be careful.” Your averted gaze entices him to call out your name. Its softness comforts your nerves slightly. You turn to face him again, “oh, yes?”

 “Your mother makes a great stew.” Your eyes focus on his chest while he speaks, and it felt like he’d been flexing on purpose. Taunting you, as if he knew that you were like a cat being coaxed with some catnip. (Spoiler alert: what you brushed off as nothing was entirely deliberate.)

 “Yes, she does, she puts all of her love into her cooking.” You reply, shifting your gaze to finally meet his own.

 “Won’t you have dinner with me?” His tone is enticing, pleading if you focused hard enough to recognize it. His sudden invitation catches you off guard.

 “I’m sorry?”

 “How about I drive you back over to your place, you grab yourself a bowl, and we eat back at mine?” While he tries to sound suggestive, maybe even flirtatious he mainly sounds eager. He was hooked on you, just a single interaction with you and that was it to him. Gojo wanted to take any chance he could get to have you over.

 “I don’t know you.”

 “Well that’s what dinner is for silly.” He leans down towards you ever so slightly. It began to dawn on you that Gojo was a very bold man. If he wasn’t bold then he was certainly confident, and he was certain that you wanted him too. “Drinks, of course; are on me.”

 “I’m not sure..” you trail off, a shiver running through you as the night breeze starts to seep through your coat. Your breath comes out in a fog and Gojo of course seizes that opportunity as well. 

 “It is freezing outside, do you want a ride back to your place anyway?” You glance at him again, and he senses your hesitation. His mouth begins to open, but you cut him off.

 “I would appreciate that, thank you.” His smile is blinding and he turns inside slightly to shuffle around the wall for his keys. He slips on a pair of snow boots outside of his door (near the doormat). While he guides you to his car you realize how underdressed he is.

 “Mr. Gojo, where is your coat?!” You want to scold him like you would your siblings.

 “I’m fine like this, your place is just across the street.” You can’t protest when he opens the passenger door for you, but when you slip inside it’s like an ice box.

 “My god are you sure?” Your teeth want to chatter but you will them not to. With your jaw tensing you almost beg him to go put a coat on. “You’ll catch your death in here.”

 “You really hate this shirt, huh?” His tone is incredulous but you can tell he was just joking around. Even so, he reaches behind you towards the backseat. His proximity causes you to freeze up again, puffs of your breath fan across his close figure. He was so close to you; he smelled of peppermint. His bulging chest was so close, if you moved even the slightest bit you could easily rest your head against it. His pebbling nipples from behind his shirt seemed to taunt you, damn the cold weather. Gojo was invading your space on purpose, of course, and you were innocently oblivious. He produces a navy jacket, and as he slips it on you wonder if the wide turtleneck even keeps him warm.

 “I’d hate for you to catch a cold, think of your poor students.”

 “Ah, so you’ve heard of me?”

 “Just this afternoon.”

 “How’s my reputation?”

 “It’s hard to say, so far it’s leaning towards your favor.” You tut, it’s playful. “My personal opinion however, has yet to be determined.”

 “I’ll have to find some way to get you on my side.”

 Once the vehicle is warmed up the short drive to your house is made in a peaceful silence but there is a tension growing. From what, you can’t quite place. You thank the gods when you realize that you’re in your driveway. There’s a palpable pause between you both, he’s waiting for you to leave. Your fingers twitch from their spot in your lap, and you feel yourself stalling. Looking to the side, your pretty glossed lips part, Gojo finds himself staring at them. A cool feeling washes over yourself, not wanting to part just yet; you can’t stop your mouth from moving.

 “I’ll be right back.”

 Gojo blinks, “you will?” He swears he can hear his heartbeat quickening almost immediately. 

“Yes, I won’t be long. Dinner is still okay?”

 Fuck yes it is.

 Your eyes widen and he realizes that he’d said that out loud. He doesn’t fluster easily but he coughs to cover his brief outburst. Gojo was not an eager man, as cocky as he may seem he truly wanted for nothing. He’d never had to proposition anyone before. He knew he was good looking, he had decent finances on top of it. Yet when he approached that window earlier his confidence seemed to leave him instantly. Your wide eyes and flushed cheeks were endearing, not to mention you were exactly his type. He wanted you bad.

 You don’t waste any more time and unbuckle yourself, hurrying to leave his car. You had to be quick or you’d change your mind. He watched with bated breath as you hurriedly walk up the steps and into the warmth of your childhood home. As soon as you’re out of his sight, Gojo relaxes almost immediately. He leans down to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, a dramatically whisper-shouted, “fuckkkkk yessss.” escaping him in the process. He was so in, you were right within arms reach. He felt lame, wanting you so bad despite having no idea who you were. If he was a better person with a clearer mind his almost imstwnt longing for you might have concerned him. However he was simple, all he could think of at this point was having you under him by the end of the night. Call him a sleaze, but he truly didn’t do this often, so he was going to take what he could get. Gojo’s fingers grip the steering wheel harder, and as his body thrums with anticipation he finds himself hurriedly tidying himself up. He checks his appearance in the mirror, perfect as always. Nothing in his teeth, lips glossed. His hair was neat but also messy in a sexy way, like he’d done it on purpose-yet he ruffled it some more for good measure. He unzips his jacket to get a look at what exactly he had put on last minute. The compression shirt he threw on when he had heard his doorbell ring was a lucky grab. He knew it hugged his chest well, clinging to him a little harder and a couple areas dampened with his shower slicked body. It was no surprise that the grey sweats that hung low on his hips didn’t leave much to the imagination. Yeah, he had this in the bag.

 On your side of things, your heart thrummed in a gentle acceptance. You’d left Gojo to his own devices and upon entry into your home, you were refusing to let panic set in. Your siblings (Emmett, Phoebe, Lillian) as well as Eve and your parents are situated around the table. Slices of warm bread, a tub of butter, as well as carefully placed bowls of stew were placed in front of everyone. They’d been waiting for you. Your mother is the first to greet you. Shit, you were beginning to feel bad.

 “I know this is so last minute, but do you care if I have dinner with Mr. Gojo?” You hate being inconsiderate, you know they’ve missed you. It was your first night home, after all. They were so clearly waiting for you to get back.

 “What for?” Your father sneers, his bright mood upon seeing you dampening at the mention of your new neighbor. “Why can’t he just eat over here?”

 “Well honey, there weren’t enough chairs. The old set is in the attic, I didn’t want to bother with all of that.” Your mother explains, “I think that’s a wonderful idea, dear. Getting close with people around your age is important after all.”

 “He’s in his late twenties, Maira!”

 “Making friends is important, Christian. She doesn’t have many, love.”

 “Eve is here though, that’s so rude to her!”

 “Mr. Manivong, I’m here like, every night. I won’t mind.” Eve is practically bouncing in her seat and you know you’re in for it later. She tries to not sound too excited at the prospect of you having dinner with the hottest catch in town. “I’ll keep the bed warm for you, my love.” She salutes you and you bite your lip in nervousness. You make a vague gesture towards yourself, silently asking if you look alright. Her salute shifts into an okay and then she begins to dramatically fan herself. You snort and shake your head at that. Neither of you realize your father was watching the both of you until you hear a scoff come from him.

 “Of course.” He grumbles out. Everyone in the room ignores him.

 You don’t remember seeing your mother leave her seat. Before you even realize it she has a hot bowl shoved into your hands as well as a warm wrapped loaf of homemade bread; and she’s ushering you out the door. Soft words of encouragement and excitement leave her, vague mentions of so handsome good for you, and take your time sweetheart your father will live. Your father’s grumbling fades as the door shuts behind you, and you’re then faced with the reality that you’re about to have dinner with a (handsome) complete stranger. The cold autumn air bites your cheeks, and you steel yourself. 

 It’s just dinner. You’re just neighbors having dinner.

 You open the passenger door once again, and Gojo’s slightly slackened frame straightens immediately. His features turn bright, and despite him waiting for you in your driveway; he was still happy that you actually came back out. He doesn’t waste time with useless greetings, he just makes sure you’re buckled in and pulls away. It’s begun to snow again, the fat clusters tap against the windshield filling the silence. You’re undeniably excited, your frame practically buzzes with the idea of a new friend. Friends, yeah right. You were having a hard time admitting to yourself the real attraction you were starting to feel for him.

 Gojo glances at you when he’s pulling back into his property. Once parked his eyes find themselves lingering on your thighs as they subconsciously rub together. His crystalline hues meet your own and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. You both try not to awkwardly clamber out, but you notice that he seems just as stiff as you are. He hadn’t bothered to lock his door, when he opens it for you he tries not to appear too eager. You leave your shoes near the entryway after you kick the snow off of them and he follows suit. You linger by the threshold, clutching your container of soup. Gojo takes it from you, his fingers lightly brushing your own, and sets it on an island in the middle of his kitchen and dining room. He makes an excited hum when you hand him the bread as well. 

 Upon entry you’d noticed how cozy his home was. The living room greeted you at arrival, black rectangular picture frames hung in several areas. Among them were photos of family members or friends, some of Gojo himself with them. The same man with stretched ears was in quite a few, you noticed. Situated next to his grey couch was a photo in a silver oval frame of Gojo and some students, on what you assumed was a field day. They were all bright smiles and peace signs. A mug that read World’s Greatest Teacher was placed next to it. The dining and kitchen area was separated by partial walls and a marble island, the bottom cupboards had various Christmas washcloths hanging from the outside of them and winter themed placemats were on his dark oak dining table. He had one of those realistic trees that looked like the branches were brushed with snow; it was in the leftmost corner of the room, closest to the door. You could tell he started decorating, a box of ornaments in varying shapes, sizes, and colors sat unopened near it. Silver and gold tinsel were still perfectly wrapped in their packaging. The only thing on the large tree were warm twinkling rainbow lights.

 He steps close to you once more, and offers to take your coat. You thank him, shuffling the thick garment off. You don’t notice how his eyes linger on your chest for a little longer than they should have. The ribbing of your sweater accentuated the outline of your breasts, and now it was his turn to be distracted. He wanted you before and seeing the curves of your body for the first time didn’t help sate his desire. It certainly didn’t help his case when you seemed to push your breasts out more as you held your hands in nervousness behind your back. Truth be told the only thing on your mind was how sticky you felt in that jacket. It was hot in your house as well as his car with the thick layers on and you began sweating. It was relieving not having it on anymore but your breasts under the warm sweater felt suffocated and the thing you wanted most was to just take your damned top off. Your uncomfortable shifting only brought more attention to them, yet you still didn’t pick up on Gojo’s virgin-like ogling. Eyes glued to one thing only: your tits.

 “Well we better eat it while it’s hot.” His deep voice cuts through the suddenly thickened air, startling you. You nod, following him to the dining area. He doesn’t bother taking any of his own bowls out of the cupboards, choosing to instead grab a couple of spoons to save time on dishes. You can respect that, you hated doing the dishes.

 Rather than being any more nervous, you decide that the sound of clinking silverware and the news playing on his television as white noise isn’t so bad. Small talk wasn’t something you excelled in. Starting a conversation was a hurdle in itself, but maintaining a steady flow while keeping the interest of the other person was overwhelming. As a result of your awkward mannerisms and ‘lack of interest’ your relationships were few and far between. The only person that seemed to bask in your silence was Eve, who could chatter away to no end. When it struck you that Gojo didn’t seem to have the desire to make you talk, it oddly comforted you. You’d always felt pressured to fill the empty space and you usually fell short of any fulfilling interaction. 

 Eating with your neighbor might not be so bad if it stayed just like this.

 Gojo clears his throat. “Your mother is a great cook.”

 “Yea, she is.”

 “She has your dad or one of the kids run me over some dinner or a snack almost every night.” He remarks, gesturing towards the island behind you. You turn around and spot a couple bags of various snacks that you could always find in your own cupboard. At the center of the island was a dish with three cheesecake slices tucked inside. You loved your mother’s cheesecake. “She made that a couple days ago, I’ve been too busy to indulge.” He pouts, going over to grab you both a slice. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth and hardly any time for myself so she’s always saving the day.” You accept the slice, eager to sate your own craving.

 “She’s pretty great, and her cheesecake is the best.” He hums in agreement, a cozy silence falls into place once more. 

 While initially dinner together was a little awkward, all of Gojo’s aforementioned confidence seemingly disappeared; eventually conversation picked up. While usually you were slow to open up, Gojo had a way of getting you to talk without trying. You’d learned that he was quite the nerd, and when it felt like conversation was running short he would bring up a game he liked to play during his free time. A book he’d read recently. An anime one of his students recommended. With dinner having been finished long ago, you’d both gravitated to his couch.

Maybe I should head out, it’s gettin’ pretty nasty out there…

No, no, it’s freezing. Why don’t you wait a little while, at least for the snow to let up?

Reruns of old Christmas specials played in the background on his wall mounted television. Glasses of red wine reflected the flames from the fireplace underneath it. Small talk about work, college, short term aspirations; morphed into steady laughter and stories from your childhood. The longer you spent on it the more you realized his sofa was just too comfortable. The atmosphere was quite intimate, you were clueless to the fact that it was deliberate. Gojo hadn’t planned on having you over so soon, it wasn’t his fault that he was thrown off a bit. Naturally, he’d set things into motion the way they should be throughout the evening. He had dimmed the lights over the course of the night, letting his fireplace illuminate his living area. A consequence free show played as a source of casual entertainment. Gojo casually lit a holiday pine scented candle in the kitchen while you had been enjoying dessert, and when things shifted to the living room he lit a sage scent that complimented it perfectly. He, of course, wouldn’t be a good host without providing refreshments. His finest and most expensive wine, a sparkling palate cleanser that wasn’t too sweet, wrapped foreign chocolates, and dried fruit were neatly placed on his coffee table in front of the sofa. He had you right where he wanted you.

 “Oh I didn’t realize you moved from there! I have a couple o’ buddies around that area.” his features brighten after learning where you moved from.

 “Ya don’t say! Small word.”

 You could feel as the minutes shifted into an hour, and then an hour and a half; your hesitancy to leave grew more and more. As your stories became more intimate, the proximity between you both shortened. While you weren’t put off by how close he was, it was something you were hyper aware of. Your elbows brushed lightly against one another on the back of the couch as he mirrored the way your head rested against your hand. If someone had peaked in on you both, they might have mistaken you for good friends or partners, the laughter and conversation flowing freely between you both. The alcohol in your system had your core feeling warm, your cheeks rosy, and your lips loose. He was practically entranced by you as you explained how your recent ex tore your heart to shreds.

 “Eve ended up flying up there for a weekend and she helped me throw his stuff out. Couldn’t just throw my mattress out though, but I guess it’s fine since I moved back here in the end.” You reach over to the coffee table for your glass of wine, taking a sip. An amused snort leaves your mouth while you watch on the tv a stop-motion reindeer jump around in glee at his crush admitting that she thought he was cute.

 “I can’t believe he cheated on you, in your own bed.” He remarks, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. Gojo can’t take his eyes off of your form, soaking in the subtlety of your enjoyment.

 “Ugh, I know! He couldn’t even make me cum in it, what made him think he could get her to?” The wine seemed to remove your filter. Despite the both of you being equally surprised by your words it brings bubbling laughter up from your stomachs. Gojo laughs in further disbelief; you laugh at your own expense.

 “Oh you poor thing,” his sympathetic coo is bordering on patronizing, “I bet I could make you cum.” The wine seemed to remove his filter as well. He had mumbled it, you don’t think he even meant for those words to leave his stream of consciousness. There’s mirth swirling inside of his piercing gaze, and something else that you can’t quite place.

 “I’m sorry?” Your laughter teeters off, and Gojo decides that he might as well just go for it.

 “How ‘bout it? Wanna fool around?” He wraps his hand around yours, and takes the wine glass from you. When he sets it aside, your breath hitches in your throat. His delicate features were tipsily flushed, much like your own. And to your absolute horror: he sure was handsome.

 “I don’t know you.” Your statement from earlier bubbles up and escapes from your throat before you can even think of stopping it. Yet you lean in closer, your fingers move from being dropped into your lap, to grazing the surface of the cushion between the both of you. He places his own hand to just barely ghost across the tips of His fingers against yours.

 “Well, we’ve met.“ he holds up his free hand, and ticks away at his fingers, “Had dinner. And now we’ve shared some drinks. I’d say we’ve been on a couple o’ dates by now.” You find yourself leaning back as he leans into you further. Fingers itching to reach out for him.

 “I’m not comfortable sleeping with you tonight.” Tonight? Does that mean it was possible in the future? Truth be told, his offer was tempting, you just felt shameful having sweat so much. You don’t miss the way his features light up with excitement, however. You both crawl backwards, and his forearms rest on either side of your head, his nose barely brushing against yours. He’d lost that dumb pair of shades two wine glasses ago, wanting to see you without any obstructions. His lips almost graze your own as he speaks.

 “We don’t have to have sex.” Right, he said he wanted to fool around. You hum, biting your lip lightly in thought. 

 “Gojo I-“

 “Satoru.” He corrects, ocean blue eyes boring into your own hazy ones.

 “I really need to shower, I sweat on the way over here, I showered earlier but I’d feel terrible-“ He’s nodding along, not seeming to care for your (very valid) excuses. They’re falling on deaf ears, because why were you wrapping around his neck? Why was he so damn mesmerizing? You felt stupid for a brief moment, and figured it didn’t actually matter if you just kissed him. So you did. It was a light peck at first, your eyes flutter closed, and he reciprocates with a peck of his own. One turns into two, two turns into three, three shifts into a deeper kiss. You make a noise in the back of your throat, or was that him? Your fingers tangle into his snowy locks, as he settles his weight between your legs. Your thighs grip his hips and it’s definitely him that groans. You weren’t ever really into kissing, it repulsed you when it went on for too long. But as Gojo experimentally swiveled his hips into yours, the slight friction eliciting a sultry moan, you think to yourself that you don’t actually mind it. Not with him at least. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth, and as it dances with your own it almost hypnotizes you. He pants in between kisses, growing more eager and frustrated with every passing moment that he grinds into you or sucks on your lips and your tongue. It grows sloppier, he eventually switches from your lips to kissing around them. Drool gathers around the edges, and he eagerly laps it up, but this only worsens the mess. He kisses down your mouth, your chin, your jaw, your neck. It’s fiery, hotter than the flames flickering across the room, you think. 

 As you become uncomfortable with the heat, you squirm to pull your shirt off. He pulls back, going to remove his clothes as well. The obvious tent in his pants causes your fingers to stutter with the button on your own bottoms. The large imprint only grows larger as his pants are removed and reveals a monster confined behind black briefs. You gulp and stand up to shimmy your pants off, walking away to put your clothes somewhere you could easily find them. You were stalling as your nerves built up again. Were you going to have to stick that huge thing into your mouth? He’s oblivious to your inner struggle, making himself comfortable on the couch below you. He taps his thigh a couple of times, a wordless beckoning when he notices you staring at him. The short distance to him has you nervously clasp your hands behind your back. When you’re in front of him again, you drop to your knees. His blatant confusion almost immediately embarrasses you. Why did he look like that? Shame wells within your gut as you believe you’d made a mistake.

 “I’m sorry, did you not want me to suck you off?”

 He stares down at you, blanking on what to say. Of course he did, he was just hoping to make out some more first. A noise of consideration thrums in the back of his throat, and then suddenly he beams at you.

 “No actually; I’m gonna eat you out.” He flashes you a cheeky grin, his confidence from earlier returning. “Awkward question but I gotta ask, are you clean?”

 “Yes I am. Haven’t done anything since I last tested.” You tilt your head to the side. “But why would you wanna do that right now? Like I said, I sweat a lot earlier.”

 “…to get you off? Because it’ll be fun?”

 “Oh, are you sure?” Your hesitation is cute, and concerning. Rather than respond he sits up and wordlessly pulls you onto the couch so that you’re next to him. He lays you out gently, and your heart thrums. “I’m not sure if I’ll finish tonight. I’m really okay with just doing you. I wouldn’t want to put you through such a hassle.” You ramble in embarrassment, your shame at being so hard to sexually handle evident.

 Your previous partners were less than attentive. They’d usually moved on or given up after a few minutes. Suffice it to say you certainly hadn’t finished from any head you’d briefly received. You just couldn’t help the numb feeling you’d felt every time someone touched you intimately. Unbeknownst to you Gojo was not only competitive, he also loved a good challenge. There was a chance to be the best head you’d ever gotten, and the first to make you cum all in one go. You feel his breath travel from your clavicle, nibbling kisses that wander downward over your navel. Your shivering at the anticipation of his touch is not lost on him. 

 “Gotta be insane to think that I’m not gonna eat this pussy tonight.” As he said that, he finally spread your legs for him. Your knees touch the couch at your side. His hands are flush against the swell of your thighs; holding them in place. Gojo peppers the ghost of short and soft pecks against your clothed sensitivity. You try to resist the urge to buck up, but at your subtle movement he firmly buries his face against the fabric. It’s a silent encouragement to do what you want. You aren’t used to it, and in that moment you are so grateful that you had the foresight to match your panties with your bra. He continues to kiss the same area, they deepen with each one. He could sense your lack of confidence, your inexperience, and he was perfectly okay with taking the lead. You’re unsure when he does it, but your panties are suddenly pulled to the side. The wet muscle that was buried in your mouth earlier finds itself dancing with your lower lips this time. There was a tense silence in the room, save for the crackling of flames in his fireplace, but as he starts to work you; your breath audibly hitches. You squeeze your eyes shut, and the pad of his tongue runs up and down from your twitching hole to your buzzing clit. It’s almost terrifying, your hands go to your mouth to suppress the noises begging for an escape. You can’t help but pant as his tongue continues to torment you. He applies just the right amount of pressure, soft lapping at your clit so wet and noisy.

 “Ngh.” Your back arches, he applies just a little more pressure up and down your slit before sucking on your clit. It’s hypnotizing but you find yourself becoming overwhelmed. One of your hands snakes into his cloudy tresses, “Wait, Gojo, I’m getting scared.” Your voice comes out high pitched and whiny, it’s the first thing you’ve said since he laid you out. He moans against you upon hearing you, “This is scaring me a little, can you slow down?” The breathlessness in your voice makes the hard-on behind his briefs throb almost painfully.

 “Call me Satoru, sweetheart.” He kisses your clit then, having missed feeling the hard nub against his soft lips. “Of course I can slow down, whatever you want.” He doesn’t sound put off, he wasn’t complaining about his jaw, he wasn’t just whipping his dick out. Yet you can’t help but feel embarrassed and like you’re inconveniencing him. With your inexperience taking over you mumble and push his face back, “I’m sorry I’ve never really done this for so long before, if you want we can switch.” He pouts at the feeling of your warm hand holding him in place.

 “What do you mean ‘so long’ it’s barely been ten minutes.” He’s puffing out a playful laugh, and then weaving his arms around your thighs. Hugging them almost to bring your arousal closer to his face, he gently rubs the plush of them as he starts to gently lap at your slit again. You tasted amazing, he had to focus on not cumming in his pants as soon as he was met with your dripping sex. You were paranoid for nothing, Gojo couldn’t get enough of you.

 “Gonna keep going until you cum, we can stay here the whole night for all I care.”

 “I’ve never finished like this before.” You admit, hiding your face behind your hands. It’s like the embarrassment can’t leave your body. His ministrations don’t stop, and they start to grow in intensity at your words. You’d been spurring him on whether you had meant to or not. 

 “Shouldn’t have told me that sweetheart, now we’re really gonna be here all night.”

 “Gojo, I can’t stay here all-“

 “Satoru.“ The deepening of his voice is just barely a growl, and your hips buck in response. 

 You suddenly yelp, because instead of feeling his tongue enter you; you feel him shift so that one of his hands is positioned at your entrance. A warm digit probes the outside of it, not entering but teasing you. Your thighs clench around his head and he groans at this. “Fuck yeah, you want it?”

 “I, I don’t know. Your fingers are so long.” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, and if you were being truthful you probably did want it. You were absentmindedly grinding your hips, swiveling them into his prodding touch.

 “You think my fingers are long? Wait till you see my dick.” His teeth playfully nibble at your thighs while he waits for your permission. You inhale sharply, still trying to suppress the noises of pleasure he so desperately wanted you to let out.

 “A little is fine, but go slow please. It’s been a long time.” Your soft and curious gaze pierced his own, and he knows he’s in for it. You’re gonna be the death of him.

 He tuts, “I don’t know.~ It doesn’t sound like you want it bad enough.” His finger betrays him, and it shallowly teases your entrance. Labored puffs of air leave your mouth at this. Your eyebrows pull together and he could cum on the spot just by the sight of you. There’s an almost magnetic push and pull between you both. As your hips continue to gyrate, furthering in intensity as your frustration grows; he’s barely teasing you and pulling himself in the opposite direction just to lead you on. Never fully leaving you, remaining firm in just grazing. Occasionally a faint whimper will escape you, and he rewards you with pushing in just a fraction deeper each time. He was finding out that you didn’t have to try hard to get what you wanted from him. 

 “S…Satoru.” Just hearing those few syllables tumble from your trembling pout has his hips stuttering into the couch. He’d picked up a steady grind of his own while waiting for you to just give in to your desire. “I want it.” It’s barely audible and he makes an incredulous noise in the back of his throat.

 “Pardon?” He’s tugging your panties down, tucking the delicate purple lace into the cushion of his sectional. His breath ghosts over your sensitive nub, he can’t help but reward it with a sloppy kiss. You mewl almost instantly, the loudest you’d been all night. “Yeah, you got somethin’ you wanna say to me?”

 “I want it.” You sound so sure now, your cares finally departing from your conscience. What did this matter in the end? You huff, caressing his face and he eagerly leans into your touch. He’s kissing your fingers, and peppering your wrist with his affection.

 “You want it bad?” He’s lifting your hips just enough to provide himself with better access to your dripping folds. The sight of him through your half-lidded eyes has you panting once more. You eagerly nod, continuing to caress his face and massage his scalp.

 “Nnmmh!” Your throat draws out sickeningly sweet whimpers once he’d begun his descent upon your flower once again. This time with added vigor, and a delicious friction you’d never felt before. His experimental kitten licks from earlier evolving into deep drags of his tongue against each and every dip. With his glossy lips on your clit, they alternate between harsh sucking and firm circular motions. He still doesn’t finger you, your fear and hesitation from earlier finally blooms into a deep desire for more. “Satoru.” You mewl, the drag of your voice heavenly, the breathy pitch sardonically kissing his senses.

 “Yeah, baby?” He’s removed himself from you with an obscene pop from your clit, his mouth and chin coated in a glossy sheen of your slick and his saliva. You’d been grinding against him harder, searching for more friction.

 “I want your fingers in me so bad, Satoru.” You’re begging at this point, pulling him up briefly to kiss him in the hopes of sweetening him up. You’re entangling tongues, he’s dragging his clothed erection dangerously across your weeping petals. The sound of your mouths colliding and teeth mashing quickly fills the air once more. Gojo’s hot touch finds itself attached to your breasts, and he wastes no time finally ripping that god forsaken bra off. Your breasts spill out of the cups, and two twinkling pieces of jewelry flirt with him at eye level. He’d instantly pulled away from the intensity of your lip lock as soon as your pierced nipples had made contact with the air. His large hands find purchase on your plush chest and you push into his touch. The gentle massage he gives you almost relaxes you more than it arouses you. The friction from his hips against yours, his soft suckling on your neck, and the fervent kneading of your breasts makes you lightheaded in the most tantalizing way. He’s finally snaking his way back down to your core, kissing along that same fiery path. He doesn’t say anything, too entranced by your every movement. A single digit almost immediately bullies its way past your resistance. The inside of you is tight, warm, and so obnoxiously wet. His finger slid in so easily thanks to the abundance of your natural lubrication. You finally moan out, arching once again into the pleasure he gives you. He’s working you, in and out, in and out. Licking and sucking up and down from your entrance right back to your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Your toes begin to curl, you’d never felt this electric before. Your hips rock yourself against his face, and you give in to the pleasure. Allowing yourself to close your eyes, run your fingers through his silky hair.

 “This pussy tastes so good, sweetheart.” Your absent nod in his direction has him biting back a snicker. You’re lost in the pleasure but he wants you to do more than this. He wants you to feel so much more. He wants you desperately. His pace picks up in intensity, lapping at your clit and steadily thrusting two fingers into you. The addition of another digit has you immediately blanching.

 “Ah, r’there!” They thrum against your sponge-y sensitivity, “ah, ah, ah! So good!~” And while your moaning doesn’t grow in pitch, you are hardly being loud, your vocalized praise encourages him. Targeting your g-spot he nibbles and suckles on your clit relentlessly. His wrist is escaping you fast, pounding back into you harder each time. Your honey squelches and it fills the room drowning out the noise from his crackling fireplace. You don’t notice him reach over to shut the specials you’d previously been watching off. You also don’t notice the way he occasionally pulls his mouth away from you to take in the intensity of your being in the throes of pleasure. He was determined to get you off. As he’s working back into another rhythm with the intent to finish you, he hits that hot spot over and over again. “Satoru~ ngh.” Your head is thrashing back and forth, “Satoru…is t’much I feel weird, baby, oh- slow down.”

 “Fuck, what did you just call me?” He suddenly stops his ministrations and you almost sob in frustration as your teetering peak is pulled away from you. You stare at him, eyes fogged from your heat and confusion. Didn’t he want you to call him by his first name? He kisses you then, kicking off his briefs. It’s more intense than earlier, if that were even possible. He’s between your legs and you feel something smooth prod at your slippery entrance.

 “B..baby?”

 “Shit, call me that from now on, sweet girl.” His words are punctuated by a shallow swing of his hips against you, length sliding against your thigh. He’s staring into your eyes, they’re blown and dark to an animalistic degree; his hair is disheveled into beautiful chaos by your own hands. He’s intimidating to say the least, and yet something about him was eagerly welcoming you in. If Santa existed then you’d hoped you would see Satoru wrapped under your tree for Christmas. By gods was he beautiful.

 “Who’s making you feel good, baby?”

 “Satoru is?” Your questioning tone has him rasping out a humorous gasp between a sloppy kiss and he’s moaning into the next one.

 “Fuck yeah, call out to me.” He’s massaging the fat of your breasts, running his fingers along your sides soothingly, squeezing along the plush of your tummy, kissing your face, your lips, your neck. Finally he’s back to persistently penetrating your gummy insides. The slick walls can’t decide whether to suck him up or push him out, and his dick thrums with want at the thought of feeling you around him. Satoru sits on his haunches, your lower half thrown over his own, and if he moved even a little bit he could insert himself into you if he was so inclined. Instead, he’s watching you writhe under his touch, fingering you without a care for your overstimulation. Rubbing his spare hand across your clit, skilled digits flat as they rub impossibly fast against it.

 “Mmm, ha,” you pant, tears pricking the corner of your eyes, “ah wait!” The pounding motion of his fingers going in and out of you grows into that intensity once again. Pounding. Pounding and pounding as he’s rubbing your sensitive bud with no sign of letting up. “Satoru please! Something weird is happening. Ungh!” Your voice peaks almost pathetically, and he’s laughing at you. Your writhing is amusing and so attractive to him he doesn’t know if he should be euphoric or in disbelief.

 “Haha, look at you! You said you wouldn’t cum! You’re almost there aren’t you? You wanna cum, Miss?” He’s throbbing against your backside, sliding in any way he can against you. Desperate for sweet friction but determined to ensure that this isn’t about him. Wet beads of precum staining the skin where the head of his member slides freely. “Cum for me? Don’ be scared you’re just cummin’. Are you tellin’ me you’ve never felt this before?” You shake your head profusely, and grab his wrist to find purchase. He doesn’t stop, his pounding almost bruising. Finally his fingers speed up just right against your clit and the small shriek that tumbles past your sobbing makes him choke out an obscenely loud moan. It sounds pornographic and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was the one being brutally pleasured. Despite barely any stimulation he was clearly as fucked out as you were, and he practically cums when a massive wave of sparkling slick splatters across his abdomen. It paints his wrist, his abs, his face, your thighs. Fat tears fall from your drunk eyes and he’s moaning again, “oh fuck-“ sorry, sorry, sorry, “you just squirted on me!” He’s laughing out loud, and your embarrassment makes you want to run away. That hasn’t happened before, I’m sorry! Gojo lays you down once again, his fingers barely leave your tight cavern.

 “I’ve never done that before.” Your pathetic whining from embarrassment nearly sends him over the edge, “oh my god I’m so sorry!”

 “No, no, no, awe, baby.” He’s cooing, kissing you once again, “uh uh, no apologizing, that was so sexy I almost came just from the sight of it.” you’re moaning some more at his soothing.

 “It was good, baby? 

 “So good, sweetheart.” his fingers slow to a stop. He brings them to his lips, gingerly

sucking them clean. His vulgar display has you clench around nothing. Satoru then positions his erection flush against your lower lips.

 “Wait, Satoru, I’ve never...” Your voice trails off and he sucks in a sharp breath eyes practically rolling to the back of his skull as he waits for you to finish your sentence, “I haven’t gone all the way.” You mewl when he pulls away to smack his hardness across the sputtering wetness.

 “Shit I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” He’s panting, and the state of his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks brings a pang to your heart. “I wasn’t gonna put it in, can I just feel you?” He licks the tears that escape from your eyes, and sucks on your desperate lips. His own desperation manifested in the form of shallow ruts against your overstimulated pussy. You nod, spreading your legs to welcome him further into your embrace. He tries not to let surprise take over his features as you reach out your hand to lay flat over his sliding prick. You apply pressure, and the both of you groan as a result. With you pressing his throbbing erection against your plushy folds as he slides back and forth it provides a sweet relief he’d been desperately needing. He was shameless in voicing his noises of pleasure, he was so sensitive considering it’d been a long time for him as well. Your noisy slick sloshing and creating a mess of you both fills the room. “God, this pussy is the best. So good baby.” His rutting picks up in pace, he tenderly holds your face just to kiss you hard. You’re both moaning into each other, noises filling his space so naturally.

 Slip and slide.

 Slipping and sliding.

 Your lower halves dance with each other so agonizingly, and you find yourself pushing him back to grind yourself on him. “Satoru I’m close again, ah.” Your head is thrown back, it’s as if you’re a siren calling out to him and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Your features are cast in the dazzling lights of his tree. “Ah, ngh, ah!” You lean down, hands splayed across his pale chest, breasts scrunching together and he almost thrusts into you. He grabs your thighs, rocking you harder onto him. His groaning and grunting as your sweat and juices flow freely between you makes your slippery descent all the more intense. It’s sudden, your orgasm wracks through your entire body, “oh fuck!” You lean down to desperately kiss him, and he finds it adorable. You’re so cute and as he’s swiveling his hips upwards to chase his own high he lets you know.

 “So cute baby, so good for me. Cum all over me that’s right, I’m gonna cum too.” You were an affectionate and kissy partner, everything he’d ever wanted.

 “Cum for me,” you kiss him again, sucking on his bottom lip and then you bite it hard drawing back with a pop, “cum for me, baby.” He’s about to, his eyes roll back into his skull, but before he can you’re pulling away and making your way down his figure this time. You lick a thick stripe of saliva from his heavy balls all the way up to the tip of his swollen prick. You take him in easily, mouth being stuffed impossibly full. You’d been wanting this all night, to feel him down the back of your throat.

 Gojo was big, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to fit all of him into your mouth. That certainly didn’t stop you from trying, and as you’re sputtering and choking on him he gasps in encouragement. He’s seeing stars regardless, tensing to keep from spilling down your throat immediately. He steals a glance at your bobbing head, your timid freshly manicured fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and pumping what your mouth can’t take. It’s too much, and with only a couple measly thrusts he’s spilling into your mouth.

 “What are you an angel?!” He’s gasping, moaning like a porn star once again. Although you didn’t know much about him, Gojo being loud in bed somehow just made sense. “Shit take it, take it, take it.” He’s fucking his seed into your mouth, you attempt to breathe heavily through your nose and suppress as many gagging noises as you can. It’s sloppy, and bubbling past your lips and Gojo can’t stop himself. Drunk on you, drunk on the feeling of your lips; nether and otherwise against his dick. “Fuck I think I love you baby, holy shit you’re the best.” He’s rambling and you try not to let his fucked out confession freak you out. Rather than dwell on his pillow talk, you make a show of swallowing his load, sticking your tongue out once you’ve finished. “Shit come here, gimme a kiss sweetheart.” He’s grabbing you by the shoulders, pulling you to straddle him. You lean in to kiss him, the intensity from your orgasm fizzling out as you languidly rub your swollen lips together. You taste bitter and sweet at the same time, an almost dangerous combination for Satoru. The kiss you both share is dizzying, raw lips drawing together just to keep feeling each other. He sucks on your tongue and fondles your breasts some more, his hands having felt lonely without you in them. You think to yourself that if he did love you after one night of fooling around that you might be okay with it. 

 “Did you really enjoy it, Satoru?” You ask, but he doesn’t even need to answer. Not when he is gazing back at you with half lidded eyes, a lazy smile, sloppy hair, and a flushed chest, neck, and face. His lithe hands rub your sides in comfort, your shoulders in appreciation, your hips in adoration.

 “Gimme another kiss, sweetheart.” And you do, with no hesitation. It’s languid, romantic even. “Shit, wanna go again?”

 “I have to go home, Satoru, next time though.” His dumb smile has you bashfully looking away. When he reaches his pinky out in front of you, you grasp it.

 “Promise?”

 “Promise.” There would be a next time? He’s stupidly elated just thinking about such a promise. You’re grinning to yourself, without realizing it you stroke his hand soothingly. Fingers intertwining, there’s another feeling between the both of you blossoming.

 “So, about your Christmas plans?”

❄️

Satoru offered to give you a ride home once you’d both sobered up and you happily accepted. Before leaving, he was attentive, making sure your body was okay, that you weren’t sore anywhere. Tentative fingers brushed over your body with a dampened and warm washcloth, cleaning any mess that was made. He located your discarded clothes, handing them to you minus the pair of panties you came with. They were conveniently misplaced but your brain was so foggy that you didn’t care. He was clearly the best sexual partner you’d ever had, and you hoped that the good chemistry would be a constant among the both of you.

 The drive back was light, there wasn’t an awkward atmosphere, rather he seemed to be in a great mood and it rubbed off on you. You’re looking out the window, rosy cheeks scrunched into a giddy smile. His hand rested on your thigh, a caring thumb ran soothing circles in place. It was snowing again, the tiny flakes melted as they landed on the window. When you pull into your driveway for the final time, your hand meets his own where it rested.

 “I had a really good time.” you admit, although it was rather obvious. You sound hesitant like you weren’t sure how he would act around you now that everything was said and done. He didn’t like it. He brings your laced fingers up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles as he holds it against his cheek. 

 “We could have a better time tomorrow.” You smile and look away again.

 “I don’t know…” but you don’t pull your hand away, instead you bring yourself closer to him. You peer at him, biting your bottom lip nervously. “Isn’t that too soon?”

 “Never.” 

 “Hmmm…” you look at your house. The lights are off inside, your rooms window is at the front of the house on the second floor and you can see that it’s still on. You roll your eyes fondly, of course Eve was still awake. She confirms that by peeking her head out of your curtain, she spots Gojo’s car and immediately shuts it. “Well, I’d love to.”

 “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He kisses your hand again and you think to yourself that you wished he would just kiss you again. As if reading your mind he gently cups your face and brings you in for one. It’s languid, and while it wasn’t meant to be deep it naturally evolved into something bordering on intense. He can’t get enough of you, his insatiable lips ravage yours and you crawl into his lap across the way. He leans his seat back, pleased with the steamy development, and his hands go from caressing your face to traveling down your back and finally down to grope the plump of your backside. You whimper, but continue the lip lock. Your tongue experimentally traces his bottom lip and he groans, opening up for you to explore him again. He’s rutting his hips up, it isn’t serious by any means he had no actual desire to take it any further than that. You grind down on him, your movement turning sloppy. Before things can blossom into anything else, you pull away, a string of saliva snapping between the both of you. His hands are still on your ass, and yours are in his hair. He’s flushed, panting, and you can’t help but kiss him again. Your neediness makes him laugh but reciprocates all the same. He was so messy but the way he handled you was absolute perfection. You break apart, finally, and you look behind you to make sure no one else is around. Paranoid your family might see you.

 “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You finally say, departing from his warmth painfully. You leave then, closing his car door gently as you do. You look behind you and wave, he’s smiling while resting his chin on his toned arms.. They’re folded over his steering wheel while he watches you go inside. He waves back, a little shake of his wrist and you finally disappear into the warmth of your home. The walk of shame (at a less than appropriate hour) was surprisingly not as bad as it could have been. No one is up to catch you other than your mother in the kitchen, she’d gotten up for a midnight snack and met you while you were putting the dishes in the sink. They’d be tomorrow's problem. 

 “How was it dear?” She asks gently, sliding a glass of hot chocolate your way.

 “Good, we watched some Christmas specials over dinner and talked for a bit.” you know that it shouldn’t have taken you this long to get back, and she knows that too, but she smiles and nods along.

 “That sounds wonderful, we’ll invite him over next time.”

 “How about tomorrow?”

 “I’m sure he’d love that.” You smile back at her, you would love that too. You sip your cocoa until it’s gone, chatting with your mother about unimportant things. She retires before you do, and you quietly make your way up to your room. Your creaking footsteps cause you to cringe, and as soon as you’re twisting the doorknob your friend jumps up from her spot on your bed.

 “Fucking finally, oh my god tell me everything!”

a/n: erm would y'all let gojo go down on u the first day u met him?

◼️yes

◼️definitely

◼️absolutely

i scattered different references to a few christmas songs so i hope y’all catch em :3 merry xmas and happy holidays hope y'all enjoyed ~🐇🎄❄️

header by @strangergraphics 🖤

[fanficsbysteve]

Passing of Presents

Note: Oh look, it’s a “sequel” to Jeremy Crow. I had this idea, and then I had a different idea. So, I mashed them together by the end. Hope everyone likes it. They are a mash of Toy Story 3, and The Velveteen Rabbit.

You should read Jeremy Crow first before this one.

***

Tommy sat on the bed, holding Jeremy Crow out in front of him. It had been 7 years since Evan had taken him into the Repair Shop he had found online. And this was worth every cent they paid to get him fixed up. He had new ‘feathers’ on the outside of his body, he had been restuffed with new soft cotton, and had his eyes repainted and then glazed in. He appeared how Tommy imagined he would look if he had gotten him brand new instead of second hand.

Jeremy Crow had a good life with Tommy. Fending off nightmares, keeping him company in his darkest times. But 5 years ago, Tommy’s life had started to turn completely around. He had gone to therapy to start handling his PTSD in a more productive way. He hadn’t been having nightmares as often and had been testing to see if they would come back by sometimes not having Jeremy with him, or Hubie for that matter. About the same time as he started therapy, Evan had moved in with him. They had settled on Tommy’s house because, well, it was a house and not a loft. As nice as the loft was, it didn’t compare. They had also started to host weekly BBQs for the 118 and the 217 at their house, Evan, however, was the clipboard tyrant when it came to getting everything organized for those events. Tommy wouldn’t admit it, but he found clipboard Evan extremely attractive.

Tommy thought back. They had been living together for 2 years by this point, and Tommy had been leaving Jeremy on a shelf above their bed. Somewhere he could watch over. He was testing the waters. Instead of holding Jeremy at night, he spent his nights holding Evan instead. And Evan really enjoyed that. Though Evan also had a habit of wiggling his butt against Tommy, attempting to get a rise out of him. It usually worked and always lead to some fun times. Tommy did feel a little guilty about making Jeremy watch that. But only a little.

Tommy chuckled to himself. He looked at Jeremy in his hands and smiled. It was time, “Well Jeremy,” Tommy said, “You’ve been one of my best friends for decades now. You were my only friend for so long.”

Tommy brought him close and into a hug, “But I think that it’s time that we parted ways with each other. You always know that I still will have a special place in my soul and heart just for you. But I think it’s time you go somewhere that you will be appreciated.”

Tommy stood up and put Jeremy next to Hubie. Hubie still looked the same as when Evan got him for Tommy. Both Jeremy and Hubie were in separate boxes. Tommy placed a lid on the boxes, each with a different name, and then placed them into a bag. He wasn’t good at wrapping gifts. It would always look like a blind T-Rex had wrapped it if he wrapped it. Better to just do a gift bag.

Tommy walked down the stairs into the living room, Evan was already in there, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I think it’s time,” Tommy replied, “I know it’s time. And they are going to a good home.”

Evan smiled and took the bag from Tommy, he attached a tag to the and held his hand out to Tommy, “Ready to go over then? The invite said 1 pm and we are going to be fashionably late already.”

“What else do they expect from the Guncles?” Tommy said.

“Guncles?” Evan said, “I know you are a Guncle. Not sure what I would be.”

“Buncle?” Tommy said, mildly panicking that he was being offensive to Evan, “I just figured having a plural word would be easier.”

Evan smiled, “I was just teasing. I know what you meant.”

Tommy playfully punched Evan, “Let’s just get going,” Tommy went towards the door, “Maddie’s going to kill us if we are later than fashionably.”

“She won’t kill me at least,” Evan joked as he followed, “Mildly maim probably.”

Tommy shook his head, and they head out to the truck. Evan, jumping into the passenger seat, asked, “Why don’t you let me drive the truck?”

“Well, we always need a passenger princess,” Tommy joked, “Someone to handle the music, and just be all around awesome.”

“Well thank you for calling me the Royalty that I am,” Evan joked back. They started driving towards Maddie and Howie’s House. The Han’s didn’t live too far from Tommy and Evan. Just far enough that they needed to drive to get there in a timely manner, but it wasn’t more than a 15 minute drive. Usually, they would walk over but with the things they needed to bring with them, all of Evan’s baking, gifts for the kids, all kinds of stuff.

“We could have just piled everything into the wagon and walked,” Tommy said, “Would have been faster,” They were currently stuck in traffic.

Evan looked offended, “Firstly, if we had walked, we would be later than we will already be. Second, with all the bumps, all the baking I’ve done over the past two days would be ruined.”

“A ‘ruined’ cookie,” Tommy attempted air quotes while driving, “Is still edible. It’s not like it was underbaked.”

“But you eat with your eyes first,” Evan defended, “A ruined cookie is not as appetizing as a perfect cookie.”

“I’ll let you have this one only because we are going to be at their place soon,” Tommy laughed, “And I’ll eat all the ruined cookies that we have just to prove my point.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Evan laughed as well, “I’ll be sorting out the cookies when we get there anyway. Have to make the platter look nice.”

Tommy pulled into the driveway of Maddie and Howie’s house, behind their minivan. Once they had gathered up everything, they walked up to the door and rang the bell. There was a flurry of jumbled footsteps running towards the door before the door swung open, “UNCLE BUCK!! UNCLE TOMMY!!”

Two children stood before them, with a teenager standing in the back, trying not to look like she was interested. One of the children, a boy, was around 7 years old, while the other, another girl, was maybe 4, “I’d pick you up and give you each a hug if I had any hands left,” Evan joked, “How about you let us in, and we can get to the hugs.”

The children moved out of the way so Tommy and Evan could get into the house, “About time,” came a yell from the kitchen. Howie was sitting at a table, attempting to put together what looked like a nuclear bomb, but it was just one of the many toys the kids would have gotten, and Maddie was in the kitchen, cooking away.

Evan put the gifts down and gave each of the kids a quick hug. Then he went directly to the kitchen, “You didn’t follow the step by step plan I sent you did you,” he said with a smile as he arrived.

Tommy placed his stack of items down as well and gave each of the kids, including the teenager, a longer hug than Evan had, “Come here Daniel” he brought the 7 year old boy into a tight hug, “and you too, Anne,” He pulled the 4 year old into a hug as well. He kept them in the hug for a while, “You have to hug someone for at least 20 seconds for it to work,” Tommy explained.

“20 seconds?” Anne asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy explained, “You need to hug someone for 20 seconds and it will have some health benefits. I don’t know what kind exactly, but your Uncle Buck read about it. I’d go and ask him for a longer hug and ask him why 20 seconds is so important.”

The two smaller kids giggled and ran away into the kitchen to find their other uncle, “And what about you Jee? A hug for your Uncle Tommy?”

Jee rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she came to give Tommy a hug, “I saw you just last week,” she said into his midriff, she wasn’t quite tall enough that her head was at his chest height, but she was taller than it being at his stomach, “You helped with my homework.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want another hug,” Tommy laughed. He let her go, “Alright let’s get to the tree so I can put some stuff under it and then I can help your Mom and Uncle with the dinner. Based on what I’m hearing in the kitchen, they will need a mediator soon and your Dad really likes to just watch the drama unfold far too much. Maybe help him out with that toy he’s currently struggling with.”

“He really does,” Jee laughed. Tommy grabbed the pile of gifts they had brought, including the bag that held Jeremy and Hubie, and put them under a beautifully decorated tree in the living room. Buck had come over to help with it, and he had developed a way to hang the baubles that made it both visually appealing, while keeping the most space for other items such as garland and lights.

After placing the gifts under the tree, Tommy went back to the entry and grabbed the containers of baked goods that Buck had made for the night. There were two containers just for cookies, one held a pumpkin pie, another held several different loaves that Howie had specifically asked for, “How are things going in here?” Tommy walked into the kitchen. Maddie was beating Buck off with a wooden spoon as he attempted to try and get the timing of everything back on track. He had his clipboard out.

“Clipboard Buck is in the house tonight,” Howie joked, “I would stay out of there if I were you.”

“Oh, I know Clipboard Evan quite well,” Tommy shuddered as he pulled a chair out at the table and sat with Howie, “The first time we held Thanksgiving at our place,” Tommy shuddered, “I put the potatoes on 10 minutes too early and I got a 30 minute lecture on following the timings on the timetable. He also comes out before all the BBQs at our place.”

“He is not to be reckoned with when he has his clipboard out,” Howie went back to building the item in front of him, “It’s like you need a doctorate in rocket science to put these things together.”

“Should have invited Karen and Hen if you needed that,” Tommy joked, “You just have me who can read instructions.”

“Well, be my guest if you can make heads or tails of it,” Howie pushed the instructions over towards Tommy.

It took them about 20 minutes of deciphering and eventually the toy was put together and Daniel was happily playing with it. Maddie and Evan had made a truce and were successfully cooking, “When can we open Uncle Buck and Uncle Tommy’s presents?” a voice cut the calm.

Anne was waiting anxiously to open them, “When we are finished dinner sweetie,” Maddie said, “Its almost done.”

Tommy looked at Evan and he just mouthed, “Not even close.”

“But I want to open them now,” Anne stomped her foot and whined.

“Maybe let her and Daniel open one to keep the peace?” Tommy suggested.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Howie said, “Uncle Tommy, would you go get something?”

Tommy left the room and went and grabbed the bag that he had placed both Hubie and Jeremy into. He brought the bag into the dining room where both Anne and Daniel were waiting, “Now we put something special and unique into this bag just for the two of you,” Tommy looked at Anne and Daniel, “We need you to take care of them ok? They are old and need a new home. You think you can give that to them?”

Anne and Daniel both nodded their heads. Tommy smiled and handed the bag over. The two boxes had been labeled already. One for Daniel, one for Anne. The two children took the boxes with their name on them and opened them. Jeremy and Hubie sat staring back at the children. Hubie at Anne, and Jeremy at Daniel, “Does he have a name?” Anne asked as she pulled Hubie out of the box. Howie and Maddie were standing together looking at their children opening gifts while Evan hovered behind. Tommy knew that Evan was hovering to make sure that he was ok with this.

“Well, I used to call this one,” Tommy pointed at the penguin, “Hubie,” He then pointed at the crow, “And that one was named Jeremy. But you can name them whatever you want. I just want you to know that they are old, so you need to be careful with them. As I said they need new homes and new kids to play with.”

Anne pulled Hubie into a big hug, “I love him,” she announced as she stood up and dragging Hubie along with here came and gave Tommy the biggest hug.

Daniel looked at Jeremy. Tommy could see something in Daniel’s eye as he looked at the stuffed crow. He recognized it as the same sense of love that Tommy had when he first got Jeremy all those many years ago, “Thank you,” Daniel whispered. He also walked over and gave Tommy a big hug. Anne had already moved on to hugging Evan at this point.

Tommy took this moment to whisper in Daniel’s ear, “Jeremy used to be mine when I was a little boy. He helped me through lots of things growing up. So, I want you to have him now. And when you have a family of your own, I want you to pass this down to your family as well. So, he can always be there to help everyone when they are growing up,” Tommy looked around conspiratorially, “And there is a story that if a stuffed animal like Jeremy is loved fully and completely by someone, they will turn real.”

“Really?” Daniel looked awed by this idea, “I’ll love him so much that he turns real one day.”

“That’s all he wants,” Tommy said to Daniel, “Now lets let Uncle Buck and your Mom get dinner ready.”

***

Tommy and Buck were sitting in their living room, both too full to move anywhere. Evan had to undo the belt and button on his pants, “So full,” He moaned stretching out, “I’m going to not have to eat for a week.”

“With all the leftovers Maddie sent home with us,” Tommy replied, “I don’t think we will need to cook for the next week.”

“Oh, I have plans for those leftovers,” Evan joked. He then looked over at Tommy, “How are you doing? I know that had to have been hard passing Jeremy along like that.”

“Honestly it really wasn’t,” Tommy said, “And I added a little extra bit of something for Daniel,” Tommy smiled to himself, “I told him that if he loved Jeremy fully, then Jeremy would turn real.”

Evan chuckled, “That’s one way to make sure that he doesn’t get destroyed.”

Tommy smiled. He looked out the window and gasped, “Look,” Tommy said as reached out for Evan’s hand and leaned forward. Sitting on the banister of their front porch was a pitch black crow, just staring in at them. Tommy looked at the crow for a minute before it flew off.

“Jeremy was just here,” Tommy breathed still staring at the spot on the porch where he saw the crow sitting. He felt Evan sit up next to him and look.

“Well, you did love him fully and completely,” Evan said, “Giving him away to someone else was the last sign of loving him fully. Now he could become a real crow for you.”

Tommy felt tears welling up in his eyes and he leaned back into the couch, Evan pulling him into a hug. That was the perfect ending for Tommy, “Maybe he did.”

The two of them curled up on the couch, too exhausted and full of food to move. They snuggled up, Tommy curling up into Evan and he fell into a peaceful sleep. His dreams were of a crow flying freely among the city’s skyscrapers, the wind lifting him up to heights that Tommy could only dream of seeing like he does. Jeremy had visited him to say Thank You, Tommy knew it was what happened. And now Tommy was at peace. Curled up with his husband on a couch that was bought specifically for snuggling on, Tommy sighed and had the most restful sleep he had ever had.

***                

Note: I wrote this on Christmas Eve (it went extremely fast) and edited it to the best of my ability on Christmas Day morning so I could post it for you all to read. Let me know what you think of it all. Happy Holidays to everyone for whatever you are celebrating today.

I haven't posted this on AO3 yet cause everyone on here seems to love Jeremy Crow and the notes I'm getting on it made me weepy so I want you all to get it first. I'll probably post it there tomorrow morning before I go Boxing Day shopping.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Venomshank x hawk-hybrid pet Reader

ok i actually asked katz-ke for help on this one because like the last one i had no ideas sorry requester, however they helped and gave me some good ideas that definitely gave me more motivation and ideas for this one in general, so thanks again katz!!! you’re amazing i adore your stuff id anyone here doesn’t know who they are go check them out, anyways onto the hcs

- How did you end up here? No genuinely you went from a pet to a deity to instead dating said deity, you’re out here living some simps dream

- You’ve always had an unusual power, hybrids weren’t rare, winged hybrids were on the rarer side, usually only stemming from receiving a blessing from one of the deities, but you were, and on top of being an avian you also could transform into an actual hawk, which was basically unheard of, you also had a rather unique coloration when in bird form, darker then your average hawk with an interesting pattern on your wings

- Which is how you ended up one day in your hawk form, chilling and enjoying being a bird, what? It’s nice to escape the responsibilities of adult life for a little while and you can eat bread a shit, you were chilling when suddenly another bird flew up next to you, at first you thought it was a crow but that didn’t seem right, a raven? No it wasn’t that either, it seemed an odd mix of both corvids but larger and, almost a dark green rather then black, but living in Crossroads you see odd shit a lot so you didn’t dwell on it

- Well that bird seemed to want you to follow it a few minutes later and it lead you to a dropped container of fries, aka the jackpot, you happily started eating them but noticed the other bird wasn’t doing anything, you shrugged it off, probably just already ate its fill and was letting you have yours, after eating you did some sort of appreciative dance, you weren’t fluent in bird language let alone weird corvid language so you hoped it conveyed your thankfulness, you were about to fly off when suddenly the bird changed into a demon, no that’s not it, into one of the Swords

- Holy shit, was all you could think as he scooped you up and started flying away with you but now in his demonoid form, alright this was happening, you must have intrigued him as a bird if he was taking you somewhere, you just let it happen and pretended to still be a regular old bird, maybe if you seemed normal he’d get bored and let you go

- Nope you were now in his temple in a, rather fancy, bird cage, this was not on your weekend itinerary, for a few days it went that he or one of his temple workers would feed you and give you toys and enrichment, you could sort of fly around the cage but it wasn’t big enough to transform back and therefore display you were not a bird, least Venomshank seemed kind enough

- After a few days stuck inside the cage he appeared and said, basically talking to himself, that he should let you out for a good fly, the second he took you out of that cage you transformed back into your demon form with an almost traumatized look on your face as you turned to look at him and his horrified expression, after a conversation he was apologetic about taking you as a pet since he didn’t really you were a demon not an actual bird, you said it was fine but gods you missed having arms

- From there you agreed to live at his temple, you had nowhere better to live and he was offering a free room in exchange for taking care of the birds that resided in the gardens surrounding it, this was one of his smaller temples but it was surrounded by gardens and therefore lots of birds, he’d stop by and check in with you and the rest of the happenings every once in a while, he slowly started to check in more and more until one day suddenly you were dating, you weren’t complaining you just weren’t fully sure how you got there honestly

- Oh my gods you never knew the wonder of preening, you’d never gotten close enough to another demon to preen your wings when in demon form, and definitely not close enough to a bird to preen you in bird form, however now that you had someone who had wings in demonoid form and could also become a bird, he knew exactly how to preen you in both forms and it was heaven, you of course preened him back which he was thankful for, with not seeing Sword as much as when he was a kid he didn’t get a chance to be preened as often so he was so thankful to have someone to help him preen again

- Maybe you didn’t quite have the corvid bird brain of gifting shiny things but you still did have a slight bird brain to the point that you did enjoy collecting and gifting small trinkets and sparklies, and Venomshank being some weird version of a corvid had that instinct but stronger, so you both end up gifting each other small things you find, especially when you go flying together in bird form, which is basically your go-to date, if either of you notice something interesting while flying you’ll dive down and grab it, give it to the other who turns demonoid for a moment to put it in their pocket then back to bird form, luckily the items don’t disappear neither of you know where any of your stuff like clothes or items go when you go bird form but you mutually agreed not to question it

- With the flying dates you also enjoy flying through one of the regions or preferably Crossroads and finding the tallest building around and flying onto the roof to look at all the beautiful lights at night, maybe you’ll switch back to demonoid form but sometimes you prefer to stay as birds where everything looks so much brighter and shinier to your bird eyes, its beautiful and it’s nice knowing that you two are maybe the only two people to ever see the views with a demon brain but bird eyes

- With living in his temple you went from a regular room to the best room in the temple, technically speaking it’s supposed to be his room but before you he almost never spent enough time in that temple to need to use the room, so it became yours and his, which does mean it’s full of a few of his things, which with your slight bird brain only means one thing, nesting, on the floor you set up a nest big enough for both of you to fit in full of pillows, blankets, clothes, and some of the items you gifted each other, and on the desk and actual bird nest, slightly comfier, still sized to fit both of you but this time in bird form, it’s less used but still nice to have

- Since he’s well, Venomshank one of the swords he has to leave for occasionally weeks at a time, which makes you more thankful for the nest to have something with his scent and feathers in for when your missing him, once he returns from his duties you’ll be in that nest for at least the next two days together, not that you mind but if anyone walks into the room they’ll see a mess of feathers and the occasional body parts making so many freaking cooing sounds

- Speaking of cooing sounds both of you make bird noises in and out of bird form, it’s more common in bird form but it’s still not uncommon to coo or squawk in demonoid form, you coo and trill with each other, make squawks and chirps, sometimes it sounds like a gods damn bird sanctuary when you’re both around, you also can sort of communicate with the bird noises which is nice as well

- He gives you a necklace or earring, with just one of his feathers, it takes you a moment to realize it’s his shiniest best feather, not quite a proposal but more of a promise ring, you wear it with pride and do the same finding your best feather to give him in exchange, he puts it in his hat and somehow when in bird form you now both have a feather, not attached to you but buried into your feathers so it doesn’t fall out, of each other’s, he has one of your hawk feathers and you have one of his… corvid feathers, neither of you understand the logistics of how that works but again you have up questioning it

hope this is good again thanks so much katz-ke for the help!! this was fun to write once i got into the groove of it honestly, alright i made a deal with myself once i wrote this id let myself reread a fanfic i love so im off to do that toodles

[luvvictoria]

I’m yours

( ♡ ) pairing : Yuji Itadori x fem!girlfriend!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, age gap , idk bro

Yuji Itadori never thought much about love. His life, filled with fighting curses and the weight of his own destiny, left little room for romance. But then you came into his life —the girl who seemed to bring light wherever she went.

You were 15, with [lenght] , flowing [color] hair, your [color] skin glowing in the sunlight. You had soft, delicate features and a warm, gentle aura that drew people in. Your [color] eyes sparkled with kindness. You treated everyone around you with care, a rare quality that made you stand out in a world filled with chaos.

The first time Yuji saw you, you were helping another student pick up their books in the hallway, your soft voice offering comfort. Yuji watched from a distance, struck by how effortlessly kind you were. It wasn’t the grand gesture that caught his attention, but the way she made the small moments feel significant.

Days went by, and Yuji found himself drawn to you, watching you from afar, hoping for a chance to speak to you. His friends teased him about his obvious crush, but Yuji, always so brave on the battlefield, couldn’t seem to muster the same courage when it came to you.

It was a rainy afternoon when Yuji finally got his chance. He was heading home after a particularly grueling day of exorcising curses when he saw Victoria standing under a bus stop shelter, her umbrella broken, completely drenched.

Without thinking, Yuji rushed over, pulling his own umbrella over her head.

“Hey! You’re soaked,” he said, his concern obvious.

Victoria looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. Despite being cold and wet, she smiled, her dimples appearing as if the rain didn’t bother her at all.

“Thanks,” she said softly, “I didn’t expect the storm to hit so fast.”

Yuji laughed nervously, his heart racing. “Let me walk you home.”

Victoria hesitated for a moment but saw the sincerity in his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

As they walked side by side under the umbrella, Yuji felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. They talked about everything—her love for books, his dream to protect people, their shared favorite foods. It was easy with her. The world outside seemed to blur, the rain a soft soundtrack to their blossoming connection.

From that day on, Yuji and you spent more and more time together. You weren't a sorcerer, didn’t fight curses, but you brought peace into his chaotic life in a way no one else could. You would meet him after school, and you’d sit together, talking or just enjoying each other’s company. For you, Yuji was the most genuine person you had ever met. His smile, his kindness—it was impossible not to feel safe and cherished around him.

Yuji felt the same way. You made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the madness of his life. When you were with him, the weight of his responsibilities didn’t feel so heavy. It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him, but your heart—your ability to see the good in everyone, including him.

"I'm Yours"

One evening, under the glow of the setting sun, you and Yuji sat together on a park bench, watching the colors bleed into the sky. The world felt peaceful for once, and Yuji couldn’t hold back his feelings any longer. He turned to you, his voice soft but steady.

“I know my life is… complicated. But I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had felt the same way for a while but hadn’t known how to say it. Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into his honest eyes, full of both strength and vulnerability. You reached out, gently touching his hand.

“I’m yours too, Yuji,” you whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The curses, the dangers, the uncertainty of the future—it all seemed small compared to what you felt for each other. You didn’t need grand declarations or promises you couldn’t keep. What you had was simple, pure, and undeniable.

Yuji squeezed your hand, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. He knew that with you by his side, he could face anything. And for you, Yuji wasn’t just a hero who fought curses. He was the boy who had given you his umbrella in the rain, who made you laugh, who looked at you like she was the only person in the world.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat together, hands intertwined, knowing that whatever came next, you would face it together.

Because in the end, they belonged to each other.

[justevelynnnn]

Secret Santa w/ the X-men!

A/N: I have a lot to work on but i got this idea and i just had to get this out today😭 but Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates and i hope y’all enjoy this!

Summary: The X-men enjoy the holidays by doing a secret santa exchange

Warnings: None!

This is also not proofread!

It was Xavier’s idea. It was a rare time of peace and he thought it would be a nice bonding activity to do. He convinced most of the team to participate. It was a week before christmas and so he just planned for everyone to do it on Christmas day (if nothing went wrong of course, some villains don’t care about christmas).

Scott found a small bowl and called everyone over to write their names on a piece of paper and put it in. He dropped a paper with his name too. Then each member took turns drawing names.

Jubilee excited volunteered to go first. She ran up to the bowl and grabbed a paper.

She squealed as she read the paper. It was Storm, a woman she looked up to greatly. “I know exactly what i’m going to get!”

Logan grumbled about this being silly after seeing her reaction and Scott just elbowed him.

Ororo decided to go next. With grace she approached the bowl and grabbed a paper.

She smiled as she read the name. “This is interesting…”, she said in response. She had chosen Scott.

Gambit volunteered to go next.

“I wonder who Gambit’s gonna pick?” He said as he drew a name. His cheeks blushed a bit as he read the name.

“Eh bien, je serai damné…” He said smiling. “What are thee odds a this?”

(Translation: Well, i’ll be damned)

Remy just chuckled as he walked away from the bowl not answering Morph or Jubliee who desperately wanted to know who he chose.

Scott decided to go next. When he read the name his eyes widened a bit behind his visor as he read the name he chose. Jubliee. As he walked back he sighed. What could he get her? He doesn’t know what teens like. Jean put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Logan grumbled again and announced he was going to get it over with and walked up to the bowl himself. He quickly took out a paper. He had chosen Hank. Just great, he thought. He had zero clue what to get a blue fuzzy scientist.

Hank went next and chose Kurt.

“Well, this is certainly unexpected…! I’ll see what i can do..” Hank said folding the paper.

After that, Kurt teleported to the bowl and quickly read his paper, “I got the wolverine!”

“You’re not supposed to say who you got Kurt..” Jean giggled.

“Look, I don’t want no bibles or crosses-” Logan fiercely started but was quickly elbowed again by Scott somehow.

Before Logan could insult Scott, Jean went to the bowl and chose Morph.

Then Morph chose Jean leaving the last paper for Rogue.

“Ah can’t believe this…” Rogue said softly and blushing slightly. For a second she made eye contact with Gambit who smiled softly at her. Jean exchanged a knowing glance with Storm after noticing this.

Scott grabbed the bowl to return to the Professor and reminded the team to be ready Christmas Day if all goes according to plan. Everyone was to get one thing for each other. The team left the room murmuring about many different things. Some excited, some nervous.

The next week was filled with everyone scrambling to get gifts for each other. Scott worrying about not disappointing Jubliee, Jean struggling to find something morph would like and Hank tinkering in his lab to make something for Kurt.

Eventually, Christmas Day arrived. The mansion was now filled with paper snowflakes made by some students, Christmas lights and other festive decor. The X-men gathered in the library as it was empty some no students would be studying at this time.

“I’m so excited to see what everyone got!” Jubliee said happily setting her gift bag on the table in front of them. Kurt and Morph agreed just as happy. She wore a silly Christmas sweater and matched with Kurt.

Kurt being as excited as he was teleported with his gift in front of Logan.

“Here you go my good fellow! I hope you like it!” He smiled, golden eyes squinting.

Logan, wearing silly antlers Jubliee forced him to wear, grunted as he took the gift from Kurt. Opening it his eyes widened. “How did you- wow, Kurt…this is the best whiskey in the world! Thank you..”

Logan held up a giant bottle of whiskey. It looked expensive and fancy.

“I traveled to many places searching for only thee best! Gern geschehen!” (You’re welcome!)

Logan showed a rare genuine smile.

After this heartwarming beginning, Logan gave his gift to Hank.

“Here you go, it ain’t much but…hell knows I tried.”

Hank nodded as he opened the gift.

“Well, I’ll be!” He pulled out a dark blue blue lab coat. It was brand new with his name embroidered into it in yellow. “Thank you, Logan!”

“Don’t mention it..” Logan smiled looking away as Hank admired the coat.

Hank put down his coat to then give his gift to a surprised Kurt.

“Ah, for me? How exciting!”

Hank handed over a long box for Kurt to open. All he had to do was undo the ribbon and open the lid. When he did he gasped and delightfully exclaimed, “How beautiful!”

“What is it, Kurt?” Morph asked curiously as Jubliee strained to see over their shoulder.

“It’s a gorgeous sword!” Kurt pulled out a 3 foot long sword with beautiful swirls and a vine engraved into it. The handle was a nice blue leather and the sword was a shiny silver.

“I made it for you in my lab.. it’s nothing special but I bought it’d be a nice addition to your collection.” Hank said. Kurt immediately teleported to hug him tightly, thanking him many times.

While Kurt was still admiring his sword and thanking Kurt, Jean decided to give her gift to Morph.

“A snack basket of all my favorites? You’re too kind Jean..” Morph said smiling at her. “I guess I should give you hit gift too since I got you…”

Jean opened her gift to see a soft knitted scarf that was a nice creamy white. Her name was sewed into it as well but in a diligent cursive. “This is amazing, Morph… I didn’t even know you knew how to knit..!”

“Me neither…” Rogue said shocked.

“What? I have hobbies…” Morph playfully shrugged.

A couple of them laughed and then Scott moved to grab his gift and turned to Jubliee.

He cleared his throat and then said, “This is for you..”

“You got me! Wow!” The young girl said as she excitedly received the gift. It was neatly wrapped in wrapping paper.

She opened the gift to reveal a sequin bomber jacket. She smiled from ear to ear as she hurriedly pulled it out put it on, commenting on how sparkly it was.

“Wow, wow Scott! I love it!”

“Jean may have helped me a bit…” Scott said looking to Jean.

“So colorful and shiny, like your personality!” Kurt commented.

“I might as well go next then..” Ororo said standing up from the arm chair she was sitting in. She grabbed her gift and approached Scott.

“I didn’t expect you’d get me, Ororo..” Scott says suprised as he received the gift.

“I, too, was surprised. I even struggled with ideas. Thigh it’s simple, I hope you like what i chose.” She said motioning down into the gift bag.

Scott reached in and pulled out a framed photo of him with the team behind him. It was an old picture of a sweet moment long gone. On the back of the frame it said, “To the world’s best leader.” with each member of the team signing it.

“This is sweet, Ororo..Thank you.” Scott said grinning.

“You’re welcome, Cyclops.”

Storm was then tapped on the shoulder with Jubliee behind her who was also holding a gift.

“I got you storm! Here you go!”

Storm chuckled at her playful demeanor and gently took the gift. “Thank you, Jubliee..”

Storm unwrapped the gift to reveal an exquisite eyeshadow palette with many winter themed shades. Glittery gray to a soft white to a baby blue. All colors that matched who she was.

“It’s lovely, Jubliee.” Storm smiled as she hugged Jubliee.

“Like you, Ororo.. I tried to get something that matched your elegance!”

The team sat and admired their gifts for a while until Jean looked at a blushing Rogue and said, “Rogue? Didn’t you get a gift too?”

The room looks to a smirking Remy and Rogue now as they sat next to each other.

“Ah guess it’s our turn now, huh…”’Rogue said.

“Gambit got you something special. You should go first though.”

“Well..alright..” Rogue says as she handed Gambit a small gift.

“Well, well..what do we have here, hm?” Remy says as he unwrapped the gift. It was a deck of cards but these were special. They were personalized playing cards with the top card having his name on it.

The other mutants admired the cards silently as Gambit looked at them whistling.

“Hope you like em’..just don’t go throwing these around! They were a pretty penny!” Rogue joked.

“I won’t. I shall cherish these for as long as I live..now, you are you ready for your “gift”?” Remy said putting the cards back in the box.

Rogue didn’t answer but looked around. She didn’t see a gift anywhere. The team looked rather curious too.

“You gonna give her some air or something?” Logan said tilting his head.

“Non, Gambit has something more special in store.”

Before anyone could react, Remy leans in to kiss Rogue on the lips.

“REMY!” Rogue exclaimed blushing a deep red.

A few members gasped, a couple other looked concerned.

“Aweeee, what a sweet gift!” Jubliee said.

“Are you okay, Gambit?” Kurt asked a bit concerned, though the man just gave him a toothy smile.

“Of course, Gambits okay. I couldn’t be any better!”

“You crazy cajun! You want get sick or hurt or even worse?!” Rogue said a bit annoyed but still blushing.

“You seemed to enjoy my gift though, no?” Gambit said winking at her.

Later, he got her a real gift which was special gloves she could wear that were thinner so she could feel a closer contact and then also a card. She never revealed what was in the card when she read it but she gave Remy a big hug right after.

The x-men finished the holiday enjoying their gifts and talking amongst each other, enjoying each other’s company. The room was filled with laughter and jokes as Christmas came to an end. It was a sweet day for them all.