#i have been enjoying all the recipes- just in time for christmas too

[37-children-of-the-dreams]

I feel like Caesar would invite the Cunning Hares to the Outer Ring to celebrate Christmas with the Sons of Calydon.

Like, if Christmas is the holiday of spending time with family, then Nicole would agree to spend time at the Outer Ring because the Sons of Calydon were Billy’s first family and the Cunning Hares became family to them via Billy. Nicole even liked the Outer Ring because of their loose laws and while we didn’t see how Anby or Nekomata like the Outer Ring, it’s safe to say that they also enjoyed the place. So the girls would love to celebrate Christmas together with their Sons of Calydon family members.

Billy would be the happiest android in the world if his families were to celebrate Christmas together and would start planning for their Christmas celebrations. He’d be calling Big Daddy to talk about their past Christmas celebrations and make sure it wouldn’t be too violent like past Christmases (I don’t think it’s too far fetched if they had violent Christmases in the Outer Ring), then he’d be calling Piper to ask her if she can bring Steeltusk for the amount of lights he’s bringing, the decorations he’s bought and all the gifts he’s been buying for Christmas. No one knows how he got them, so they believe it’s a Christmas miracle.

Caesar and Burnice would be excited about the upcoming Christmas celebration since this is the first time since Billy’s departure that they’re celebrating with him again, and they’re doing it with new family members! Caesar has been dreaming of a Christmas party with Billy again since he was there for her since childhood and made her Christmases a happy celebration. Yes, there were some Christmases where he had to fight other gangs ruining Christmas, but he never let her had a bad one. Burnice is just happy to make this Christmas special with every Nitro-Fuel recipe she’d made and all the snacks she has ready for her family and friends.

Lucy is more reserved than them, but she’d also be excited to celebrate Christmas with an actual happy family since her past Christmases with her bio family felt artificial like a cheap Christmas tree. She bought everyone gifts that she knew they would love because they never hid their emotions when getting gifts unlike her father. She even knows that Bricky, Grassy and Woody made a Christmas present for her and she would not care if it’s ugly and will break in a few days, she will get her gift that was made with her happiness in mind. It will the best Christmas she’s ever had.

Piper is just happy that the Sons of Calydon and the Cunning Hares are celebrating a family holiday together. Yet, she did not aspect that Billy would have a ton of gifts and decorations to bring to the Outer Ring. She is happy that some of those decorations will be for Steeltusk though. Her truck deserves to look beautiful on Christmas.

Lighter will act cool in front of the Sons of Calydon, but he’s panicking about the upcoming Christmas celebration because it’ll be his first happy one in years. He has no idea what to do or how to act because he’s been traumatized for years about being close to people that the only thing he got the girls and Big Daddy were tiny Christmas treat gift boxes. He didn’t know what to get Billy other than cheap instant coffee. He accidentally told Billy about it, panicked, but then calm down when Billy told him that he still bought gifts for them and that’s what truly counts. He hopes he will always have this type of Christmas for a long time.

When Christmas Day arrives, the Sons of Calydon’s camp has been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There’s no snow, but Billy bought a medium sized Christmas tree with fake snow, made sure that the camp was dressed up in lights, stockings and ribbons with Steeltusk having lights everywhere. Presents were under the tree as everyone woke up to a happy android saying Merry Christmas and them hugging each one of his team members, past and present. Christmas breakfast and lunch were nice, but it was nighttime that everyone was ready for. So they waited by fighting Ethereals at the Hollows and finding loot until nightfall.

The instant the first star appeared, the Cunning Hares and Sons of Calydon were off to the camp with Big Daddy waiting for them with Christmas stews and desserts. Burnice flew into her bar to make her drinks as Nicole and Lucy talked about what Billy even bought since there was a lot. Nekomata was busy talking to Big Daddy about past Calydon Christmases, he told her some, but he never liked to talk about the bad ones. Piper, Caesar and Anby were busy admiring Billy’s decoration skills as the lights started flashing in the tunes of Christmas songs. Billy and Lighter were also talking about the decorations, but in a more somber tone as Billy tells him that he did it to make sure this was another non-violent Christmas since he always worried about Caesar having bad ones to which Lighter promises that he will make the next Christmases safe for everyone the way Billy and Big Daddy did in the past.

Once it was time for presents, Billy gave out his gifts first with the rest of the Cunning Hares following his steps. Lucy was the first from the Sons of Calydon to give her gifts and Lighter went last. Lighter was still panicking at the thought of them not liking his gifts, but the instant Nekomata hugged him for giving her new ribbons and fish snacks, he stopped panicking and hugged her back as he got tackle hugged by Caesar for getting her mangas. Lucy swears she did not cry from getting a miniature version of her bat from her boars, but Burnice has a photo that states otherwise. Nicole was shocked that Billy got her a new pink formal suit and did not hold back tears as he told her he save his money to get her the dress. Piper and Anby fist bumped each other for they both bought each other pillows for Christmas, though Anby had a burger shaped one. Big Daddy did not care about his presents, he was glad to have them, but he was happier to have another peaceful Christmas in the Outer Ring.

It was a very Merry Christmas for everyone.

[separatist-apologist]

Cosmic Brownie Cookies

I like to think Elain would bake these for Nyx, and any other children that happen to live in the neighborhood.

For @elainarcheronweek's cookie exchange- what a fun event to bring the community together.

Recipe below the cut:

I got this recipe from cookingwithkarli

Cookie Dough:

1 1/2 cups salted butter, softened

1 1/2 cups brown sugar

1/2 cup granulated sugar

3 eggs

2 tbsp corn syrup

1 tbsp vanilla extract

3 3/4 cup all purpose flour

1 cup dutch processed cocoa powder

1 tbsp cornstarch

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

Chocolate Glaze:

2/3 cup heavy cream

2 cups semi sweet chocolate chips

1/3 cup rainbow coated chocolate chips [note: I bought mine from nuts.com but amazon also has them, and a local bakery supply store might also carry them in your area]

Directions:

preheat the oven to 350

Cream together butter (I like to brown my butter, but thats optional) and sugar- you'll want it to be well incorporated, and a light yellowish/brown color

Once creamed, add in your eggs, corn syrup, and vanilla until everything is well combined

Add the flour, cocoa, cornstarch baking soda and salt. Mix until your chocolate cookie dough forms and the texture of the dough is soft without being sticky (you should be able to roll it in your hand without getting residue all over your palm)

Divide and roll out 12 cookies. They'll be quite large as this recipe is a crumble cookie copycat. I like to roll out smaller balls of 24, but do what makes you happy

Spread your cookies on a parchment lined tray- either 6 if you're doing 12 large cookies or 12 if you're doing 24. You'll want to keep a decent amount of space between them.

Bake for 15-17 minutes. You'll know they're done with they still look soft but not wet, and there are little cracks in the dough. They should be soft when you bite into them, and not hard or crunchy.

While your cookies bake, double boil (best method) or heat up your heavy cream in the microwave for about 1 1/2 minutes-2 minutes OR until your cream is boiling. It should be very hot but not burnt.

If you decide to microwave your cream, check on it in 30 second intervals

Pour in your chocolate chips and let it melt in the cream, whisking until its smooth, well-combined, and without lumps

You can spoon it on about ten minutes after your cookies are out of the oven BUT it will melt your icing. I recommend waiting about 30 minutes so you don't end up with a drippy mess, but I'm not here to tell you how to live your life

Sprinkle candy coated chips on top

The recipe recommends eating them warm

Enjoy! These are a favorite in my house!

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, ��good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[yoonia]

A Christmas Fix — 02 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, fake dating trope on the side, minor body insecurities (implied), fight scene, some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, pregnant sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 29,410 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: February 1st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | And we're finally at the end. Thank you so much for everyone who has read part 1, and those of you who have been so patient with me. I'm sorry I had to wait for a day to post this. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the journey to see how this story ends :)

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: ⤎ previous chapter

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

The house has been quiet all morning. 

There is only one day left before Christmas Eve, and everyone has been busy for the past couple of days. Your mother and Honey are hosting the Christmas Eve’s family dinner this year, with close relatives from their side of the family joining in, so everyone has been busy going around and about to prepare for it. 

After days filled with all the bustling activities, it feels like you finally have some downtime. With both of your parents gone—your mother is out with Honey to shop for a couple of necessities needed for the event, and your stepfather out doing some errands, assisted by Taehyung in place of Hansol—it feels like you can finally breathe easy. 

While the pre-Christmas rush helped smother the loud thinking constantly happening inside your head, the silence that you are experiencing now feels comforting. The underlying tension that is also present, however, isn’t so much. 

When you agreed to stay home and help out with the rest of the Christmas baking still needed to be done, you didn’t expect that Alia had volunteered to stay behind and help too. So you have been using this silence as a protective shield. 

Almost an hour has passed since the two of you started getting busy in the kitchen. No meaningful conversation has been shared so far, aside from the times you had to talk through the recipes together or talking about passing things over. The only sounds that are keeping you company are the occasional sounds of kitchenware hitting the counter, the shuffling sounds coming from both you and Alia as you move around the kitchen, and the burning oven behind your back. 

Slowly, you are beginning to enjoy this routine, finding calmness in the steady rhythm of baking and cooking which helps quiet the voices in your head. Too bad it doesn’t last long enough for you to relish it when Alia suddenly speaks, bringing up something other than the task in your hand for a change. 

“I’ve been wondering for a while, but you look like you had a rough night. Is your stomach still bothering you?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

To say that you are caught off-guard seems like an understatement. And you have no idea how to respond to her question. For her to suddenly ask something personal is completely unexpected. 

It’s not that the two of you never had an actual conversation with one another like a pair of normal human beings. It’s just she never seemed to truly care or have any interest in getting to know about you other than the stories shared at family dinners with your parents around. 

It’s making it even harder to answer when you have this underlying guilt brewing inside you. A feeling that comes from hiding a secret that keeps getting heavier to carry. And you are afraid that the moment you open your mouth to speak, they will all come spilling out of you. 

You wish you could just lie to her face. Tell her that everything is fine so you can continue working in silence. 

But when you look up and actually look at her, she seems—genuine, in her concern, and almost as much with her curiosity. 

But there is no malice or pretence in her question that you find yourself reaching out to accept the olive branch that she is offering you and answer, “It’s—okay. I mean, it’s been pretty rough the past few nights. I think it’s because of the lack of sleep I’ve been getting.” 

And you’re not completely lying. Because the past couple of nights have been rough. But you couldn’t possibly explain to her why.

Alia scrunches her nose, oblivious to this. “I heard from Honey that you get this way when you’re stressed out. Has work been stressful for you lately? I mean, with your latest work promotion, I can only imagine that you’ve only gotten busier lately.” 

You purse your lips and avoid her gaze, once again biting back the secret that is threatening to slip out. 

“Maybe—” you start to answer, “I haven’t been eating well, and I’ve messed up my sleeping schedule so bad lately, that it’s been hard to fix it even when I’m home. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and I woke up with a headache this morning.” 

Alia frowns. “Have you been taking meds? I have some vitamins that may help you sleep better. I’ve been taking them lately to—” 

Thinking about taking vitamins makes you cringe. The doctor’s warnings come floating through your mind—reminding you that you should be wary of the medicines and vitamins to take, as they may not be safe enough for the baby in your belly, her warning about keeping your stress level low, and her reminder of watching over your diet at the beginning of your pregnancy. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t usually take medicines or vitamins to help me sleep,” you gently refuse. Even without your doctor’s warnings, you know that nothing could really help you with your sleeping problems. 

Because the truth is, your nausea and ‘stomach bug‘ haven’t been the sole reason why you have been having trouble sleeping as of late. 

It was Taehyung. 

Ever since you came across Taehyung that night in the hallway, memories from the night of your wild hookup have been coming back to you. They have been haunting you at night, whether you were sitting in bed wide awake or when you were deep in your restless sleep. 

When sleep failed you, you would be left spending long hours recounting every action and every conversation that you could remember. Every single detail had been coming back to you in bits and pieces jumbling together, and you would spend the next long hours trying to piece everything together. You went through it all to answer the resounding questions that are still messing up with your mind. 

How many times did we do it that night? 

More than twice, for sure, you recall each time you try to look back. Was it three, or four times? 

You remember feeling sore and tired the next day, yet you were content enough to sleep the whole flight away towards your dream vacation with your whole body humming with the waning pleasure. And while you weren’t completely drunk that night, you were surely tipsy enough that you were unable to memorise every single moment with a clear mind. 

But the biggest question that you have yet to answer—

He really did wear condoms that night, didn’t he? 

You remember watching him roll the condom down the length of his impressive cock. It wasn’t really a memory that you could easily erase, no matter how tipsy-minded you were that night. Not when the way he did it left you completely transfixed. 

For some reason, everything about the first intercourse you had with him remains vivid in your memory. Because it was the first time for you to ever feel that kind of pleasure. To feel wanton and free with someone who was willing to help you open up a part of you which had been locked and sheltered during the long period of time you spent in your past relationship. 

The second time always seems a bit blurry. But you can still recall waking up to his sinful lips devouring your sore pussy in the middle of the night. 

He claimed it as a way to make up for the rough and dominating way he took you the first time and the lack of foreplay. So he spoiled you by giving you pleasure through his mouth and tongue and the work of his fingers, before he fucked you gently, slowly, until you were arching into him and crying out his name once again as he helped you embrace your slow rising climax. 

And the third time—

“Um, earth to ________.” 

Alia’s sharp voice pulls you out of your dark thoughts. Her curiosity seems to grow more palpable, and so does the concerned look you see on her face. 

“Are you okay? Seriously, you don’t look so well. You keep spacing out today and now it’s like you’re burning up or something.” 

With a gasp, you reach up and touch your cheeks, quickly realising that she is right. You are burning up. Except that instead of burning from a fever, your body is growing hot from the inside for a different kind of reason. 

You are burning from being drowned in your dirty thoughts and recounting all the pleasure that you felt back then. To be thinking about all the wanton things that you shared with—

Your eyes fall open as you draw a shocked gasp. Realising too late that you are thinking about your stepsister’s new boyfriend while she is sitting right in front of you. Guilt pierces through your chest right at that moment, and you quickly rise from your seat. 

“Excuse me, I think I need to cool down a little bit. I’ll be right back,” you quickly say to her before slipping away from the kitchen without waiting for her response. 

Needing distance from Alia, you rush to your bedroom upstairs, finding solace in your safe space as you lock yourself in it. The feeling of shame washes over you. You can’t believe that you had allowed yourself to think of dark, sultry thoughts while you were sitting right across your stepsister. 

Worse yet, that doing so made you feel aroused. 

The same thing always happens each time you think back about that night. As if your body has memorised what your mind has failed to remember. Each memory of his touch brings back sparks on your skin, reigniting the same reaction that he managed to draw from you then. 

By the time you lie down on your bed, the heat in your body has spread all over the place. Even to the places that you didn’t expect to be affected, as it spreads down between your legs. 

At the same time, your skin seems to be humming with need. There is a desire that has been awakened simply by reliving that night in your thoughts, which would be impossible to quench. 

You close your eyes, and immediately feel as though you are under a spell. Your hands begin to move on their own, searching for the source of the heat rushing within your body. They continue travelling their way down, following the pulses that you feel emerging from your core. 

You slip one hand down your pants, reaching down until you feel skin. A gasp threatens to come out when the tips of your fingers are met with dampened skin. Just as expected, thinking about that night and the things you did with Taehyung then has made you wet. 

Your fingers tremble, and your heart starts pounding like crazy as you continue touching yourself. Slipping your fingers across your slit, you make use of the slickness that has formed to slide back and forth, playing with yourself until you feel only pleasure. A shudder erupts through you as you stroke your clit. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. But before you can stop yourself, an image of his face hovering right above you comes to you. In that moment, you are back to the night when you were with him. 

The fingers that are touching your hot center are no longer yours. They may not be the same size as his fingers, and not as firm, but your memory easily replaces your dainty digits with Taehyung’s longer and wider ones as you push them into your throbbing core. 

There is a voice in your head that keeps telling you how wrong for you to be doing this. How inappropriate for you to be thinking naughty thoughts about someone who isn’t yours and pleasuring yourself with it. 

But your body wouldn’t listen. 

Your hand continues to move, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy while your hips push back against them. The pleasure rises, increasing quickly the faster you move your hand, the more you ride your fingers like an animal in heat. 

And you don’t stop until your orgasm starts building. It keeps growing stronger, until everything within you snaps. 

As you fall into bliss, his face is all you see. His voice is the one you hear instead of the soft, muffled moans coming out of your lips, whispering to you the same sweet soothing voice that he gave you that night while you were succumbing to pleasure. 

“Good girl. You’re amazing, Red. Rest up, and we’ll play again once you’re ready.” 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You start to roll your eyes before you remember that Skye wouldn’t be able to see it. For the past hour, you have been on the phone with your roommate while you were hiding from your family. 

Locked in the safety of your bedroom for the second time today because you still couldn’t get over the mortification that has fallen upon you after this morning’s blunder. 

Having your arousal slowly pooling between your legs by the mere thought of Taehyung and the sinful deed you shared with him seemed scandalous. Allowing it to happen while you were sitting right in front of his girlfriend, someone closely related to you, made you feel as if you were more deserving to be burned in hell rather than sharing the joy and laughter of Christmas. 

And instead of brushing those nasty thoughts away, you took it one step further by seeking pleasure with the touch of your fingers. With your head filled with thoughts of Taehyung and while your stepsister was waiting downstairs for you to return. 

Shame and guilt plagued you once you were done. And you were also too sated and tired to even function. But you couldn’t hide in your bedroom for long. Doing so would only cause people to grow suspicious of your behaviour, and you already gained enough unsolicited attention to let it happen. 

So after cleaning yourself up and wiping off any remnants of your misdeed, you put your big girl pants on and went back downstairs to finish the Christmas baking with your stepsister. This time, you kept to yourself more, avoiding as much conversation with Alia while you continued to pretend that nothing happened while you were away. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to be alone with her for far too long when everyone returned from their outing.

Masking your shame no longer became a struggle when you stopped being the main focus of the room. Everyone was busy with Christmas Eve’s preparation; your mother with the holiday decorations, your stepfather with his handiwork as he went out to fix the porch and the locks on the front door, while you and Alia remained in the kitchen to finish baking. 

Honey stayed nearby, as she sat at the kitchen counter, watching everyone doing their own thing while she was nursing a mug filled with steaming hot cocoa and sharing the most recent gossip about the old ladies living in her apartment complex. 

While all of this was happening around you, you were blessed with the absence of Taehyung, who was said to have gone back to the motel where he and Alia have been staying to finish some work before Christmas Day.

You didn’t question it, trying not to care too much about him and making use of him being gone to try and forget everything that had happened. 

But then lunchtime came, and he returned just in time to rejoin your family for the meal. Seeing his face again, hearing his voice, watching how your stepsister kept being all touchy feeling with her boyfriend and clinging to him all the time gave you an unpleasant feeling that you felt sick to the stomach. 

That was when you rushed back into your bedroom. You convinced yourself that you weren’t hiding from them. That you simply needed some time alone; alone with your thoughts, to gather your wits, and calm your nerves that had become unsettled during lunch while he was once again sitting right across the table, subtly watching you when others weren’t looking. 

But being alone with your thoughts hadn’t been quite helpful. 

Your mind kept wandering into places that you shouldn’t dare to visit. You needed someone to talk to. To vent and get everything out of your system. And Skye, who is currently on the other side of the country to be with her family, was the best option to call. 

And yet, after telling her everything that has happened and keeping her up to date with the latest developments, you are starting to regret calling her. 

“Do tell me why you, of all people, would call this catastrophe a miracle?” you ask her while pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head feels tense, although you are relieved that it has somehow stopped pounding after sharing all of the drama to your roommate through the phone call. 

You can hear the subtle sound of her humming to herself, contemplating her answer. “I mean, think about it. We already made an elaborate plan to track him down, to the point that we nearly booked a ticket to go back to the place where your flight made a stop for transit in case we can’t easily find him,” she says with the same no-nonsense tone of voice that she always uses when she is laying out all of the facts, “and then he suddenly appears, right at your family’s home, as if saying ‘Here I am, look no further’.” 

She laughs, and you can picture her shaking her head when she adds, “Tell me that’s not a miracle.” 

Instead of answering her, you only bite your lips. It does sound almost too good to be true. Except for the one simple fact that is impossible to ignore. “You’re forgetting the fact that he’s here as Alia’s plus one. I’d say it’s a curse, instead of a miracle.” 

You can her chuckling bitterly on the other side of the phone. “And once again, I’m going to say that I don’t envy you.” 

You let out a groan as you fall back on the bed. “This isn’t funny.” 

“I know, sweetie,” she says, comforting you with a sigh. “It’s just so absurd to think about all the coincidences happening around this baby business.” 

You close your eyes, hating the fact that she’s right. There are too many coincidences happening around you, and it’s astonishing to think that everything could come to this point. 

“Yeah, it does sound absurd.” 

“I’m just sad I’m not there to witness it,” she says, laughing, while you barely have the energy to scoff at her. 

For the longest time, Skye has always been the one you turn to whenever you need someone to vent about your ordeal with your stepsister. But compared to the other times you clashed against Alia, this one surely takes the cake.

“You haven’t told him about the baby, have you?” 

You wince. “No,” you answer with s sigh. “I can’t think of a way to do it.” 

And you have been avoiding being in the same room with him to even have the chance to talk about it. Not that you would have found that chance anyway if you did, as Alia has always been by his side. You suddenly remember the way Alia suddenly sidled to his side when he was alone at a time, making a complete show about her doting on him.

Grimacing, you shake the image out of your head. “I’ve thought of different scenarios involving me talking to him and revealing about my pregnancy, but everything has changed now that Alia is involved in this.” 

Skye grows silent for a moment. “Just tell him,” she says. Her voice softens, which only means that she is being serious about this. “The sooner the better, even more so because he is involved with Alia. It’s better to let him know now rather than later, once they’ve been dating longer and the baby is here.” 

You bite your lips again, refraining to tell her that you had thought about the same thing. “He did say he wanted to talk—” 

But he never made it clear what he wanted to talk about. What is there to talk about if he still has no clue about the baby? Is he trying to convince you again not to let Alia know about your past hookup? How would that work if you’re having a baby together from that hookup? 

You hate to admit it, but being kept as a secret feels—painful. 

“Well—” Skye hesitantly says, “It’s not like you’re planning to have an actual relationship with him, right?” 

Her question makes your stomach drop. Have you ever really had any hope of having a relationship with him, just because you are expecting a baby with him? 

Thinking back to the night of your hookup makes you look back and relive the emotions that you felt that night. You are sure that you felt a connection with him that night. A connection that you never felt before with anyone else. It felt real, yet you denied it simply because neither of you had been using your true identities when you climbed on that bed together. It had seemed to you that both of you had only wanted that night to be a one-time thing. 

The sparks you felt with him had also been real, and you are quite sure that you felt them again the last time you were alone with him in that hallway, when he confronted you after the first family dinner that you shared with him. Sometimes, you can also feel that same sparks coming back whenever he is in the room, no matter how far away you try to distance yourself from him.

Could it be that somewhere along the line, you had unknowingly harboured hope that you could be together again? When did this happen? 

Or did having his baby growing inside you make you think that you could somehow build something real with him, to develop the connection that you felt that night into something else entirely? 

Is that why seeing him with Alia has been bothering you so much? Not only because you are hiding this secret, but also because nothing can come out of it once you come clean to him? 

Not for the first time today, you feel like you’re about to throw up. 

You only had one night with him. You keep reminding yourself this, hoping that it will be able to snap you out of the silly illusion that you had allowed your mind to possess. 

“No, I just want him to know about the baby,” you answer weakly, hoping that voicing this promise out loud would help put an end to your wishful thinking. To stop it before it gets too far. 

“But having this baby with me while he’s dating my stepsister will complicate things. And things are already complicated between me and Alia.” 

“Right,” Skye sighs on the phone. Knowing exactly what you mean without you having to say it out loud. 

Over the years, Skye had both witnessed and heard every single spectacle that had become a major part of your relationship with Alia. You can tell that she understands what to expect once this thing blows up. 

“You’re right. I can’t imagine how she’ll react,” you hear her say, before releasing an overly dramatic sigh, and you immediately know where this is going. “Maybe she wouldn’t have hated you so much if you didn’t break that doll of hers when you were a kid.”

You scream into the pillows while she laughs historically on the phone. “Why do you have to bring that up?” you groan, hating yourself for sharing this with her during one of your late-night drinking fests. “Out of all the ludicrous things I shared with you, that’s the one crossing your mind right now?”

“Hey, you were the one who brought it up first. How would you know that it wasn’t true?” 

“How could you possibly remember that when I barely could?” you whine out loud. 

One drunken night was all it took for you to disclose the severity of your childhood crime. Even if you barely remember the details of it. Thankfully, your roommate had been the only witness to listen to your drunk confession. 

“It was an accident that happened ages ago, and I already told you that she couldn’t have possibly started resenting me for years because of that ugly doll.”

Because it sounds ridiculous if you think about it with a sober mind. And you refuse to believe the disdain that Alia has shown you for years had all stemmed from the small incident that happened when you were a child. 

At nine years old, your small family—originally consisting only of you, your mother, and your sweet grandmother, Honey—suddenly expanded. Everything changed for you the day your stepfather, Cliff, came into the picture. Not only did he fill the void that was left behind by your late father, but he also brought with him another girl, and you suddenly had an older sister to play with and to look up to. 

A few years older than you, Alia appeared in your eyes like the coolest kid you have ever met. Beautiful, smart, witty, though she could act a bit snobbish whenever you tried to play with her, yet she still shared her bedroom, her toys, and sometimes her collection of dolls. 

One sleepover, a pair of clumsy little hands, and a ripped old doll later, everything turned the other way around. It happened so long ago that you eventually forgot about it. As Alia entered high school, she rarely came to visit her father, and the incident was simply overlooked with all the other things happening in your life soon after.

The moment she came back into the picture, Alia began acting differently towards you and your relationship was quick to turn dreary. 

Forced smiles and tensed, courteous chats. The hard and solemn look coming through her eyes that she would always reserve for you when others weren’t looking, always at the times when you earned everyone’s attention or when you accomplished something good in life. Plotting schemes by arranging her own agendas to match the significant moments of your lifetime—graduation days, birthdays, anniversaries—oftentimes forcing Cliff to have to choose between being there for you or to be by his biological daughter’s side, while mostly finding excuses to miss out on your important dates altogether. 

After another incident where she caused another drama back home years ago, you came back to your apartment with an opened bottle of tequila and spent the night drunk-venting with Skye. 

Somehow, as you drunkenly wondered why your stepsister would treat you with so much disdain, that small incident from a long time ago came back to mind. And that moment, it seemed that your subconscious linked the incident with the way she treated you years after, and you let it slip to Skye for her to later make it a running joke between the two of you whenever you came to vent about your stepsister drama. 

But really now…all of that hate and drama over a doll?

As if that would justify the way she has been treating you for years. It also makes you wonder if last year’s incident had anything to do with that as well. 

Shaking your head, you hate to think of what kind of hell she will be giving you once she finds out that you are carrying a baby from the man she’s been flaunting around since the day she came home. 

You shudder at the mere thought of it. 

“You know that my offer still stands, right?” Skye suddenly questions you, much to your relief, as she changes the topic right before your head begins to ache again. “If things get too hard or if he wants nothing to do with the baby, or if he mistreats you at all after knowing that he got you pregnant, we can still run away and raise the baby together. Maybe Europe is a bit too far, and too cold for me, so how about Australia?” 

Unprepared to hear her comment, you immediately erupt into laughter. Like always, your best friend knows how to ease your mind. The tension that comes from the stress is lifted, and so are your worries. 

It doesn’t change the fact that you are still going to have to face the music the moment you are given the chance to, but at least you are starting to see some light waiting at the end of this. 

“Running away sounds awfully tempting right now, I’m not going to lie,” you murmur into the call, knowing that Skye can hear you perfectly. But she wouldn’t be able to see it as you rise from your bed and reach out to the beside table, picking up the sonogram which you had gotten right before you left for home. 

Running away does sound tempting. But it is not the choice that you can make. And you won’t. 

You are going to have that talk with Taehyung and tell him everything. Soon. You just need to be ready to face his reaction and the consequences of what the truth might bring. 

As much as you kept telling yourself to prioritise finding the chance to speak to Taehyung, all of your bravado simply vanished by the time you rejoined your family for dinner. 

Sitting down at dinner, once again taking the front row seat to watch Alia making a good show of being the doting girlfriend, as she kept clinging onto Taehyung while he was trying to keep his composure in front of you, you felt suffocated. 

And you couldn’t escape it. 

You had done it once, masking your discomfort with your sickness. And then doing it again a couple of more times under various excuses while everyone was spending time together.

Despite feeling like you wanted to run away, you were running out of excuses and there was nowhere for you to hide. Even once dinner is over, your attempt to escape unnoticed quickly fails when Taehyung finds you first. 

“What are you up to now?” you nearly snap at him as Taehyung slips into view, intercepting you when you are about to slip past the backdoor, hoping to get some fresh air. 

Pursing his lips, he hides his smile and shrugs. “Nothing, just trying to see what you’ve been up to.” 

You squint your eyes at him, finding him suspicious. “Does Alia even know you’re here? Cornering me instead of chaperoning her out there?” 

As you cross your arms over your chest, challenging him with your question, Taehyung simply stares at you with an amused look in his eyes. “You know, everyone is in the living room and they’re wondering where you are. Honey is about to make a show of making that rum cocktail that she was bragging about at dinner.” 

An overwhelming feeling of craving and queasiness comes over you as you picture Honey and her rum cocktails that you would normally enjoy during the holidays. You swallow the tightness in your throat and force a smile. “So you offered to look for me?” 

Taehyung grins, making it seem like he has no fault whatsoever for being where he shouldn’t be. “I’m currently free, so why not?” 

You scoff at him and shake your head when you fail to hide your smile. “Yeah, well. I doubt that they’ll be missing me.” 

There’s already Alia in the room with them to steal the show and everyone’s attention anyway, you silently wonder. 

And yours. 

Surprisingly, a frown forms on his face upon hearing this. “That’s where you’re wrong. Honey kept asking for you. Said something about making a special recipe for your, um…stomach bug,” he says with a small smile, and then lowers his voice to add, “and I also wondered why you weren’t there.” 

Your heart makes a sudden leap inside your chest. “Thank you for caring,” you say to him with a sarcastic tone of voice, trying not to look deeper into it or feel to happy about him looking for you. 

Having the flutter in your chest gives you more reason to walk away. “Please tell Honey I’m sorry that I can’t join her tonight. I’m not feeling up to it.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks before you can get away. “I remember that you enjoyed drinking sweet cocktails the last time we met. With how Honey kept bragging about it, I’m a bit curious to try the drinks she’s making. Don’t you? 

Of course, you would be interested, you wonder. But I can’t possibly drink whatever it is that Honey is concocting, even if I feel like I need a glass of whatever she is offering.

But he doesn’t need to know that yet—or should he? 

Suddenly, you start doubting yourself. You can feel the words hanging by the tip of your tongue already, the urge to spill everything to him right this moment grows so strongly as you look at his smug face. 

So what if he wanted to wait until the time is right to talk? When is the right time to talk about this? 

You take a quick glance around, noticing that you are all alone with him. This would be the perfect chance to tell him about the pregnancy, wouldn’t it?

“Maybe her cocktail can help you feel more at ease and less—tense,” he suddenly adds with a hint of a teasing tone in his voice that rubs you the wrong way, taking away every good will you ever have of talking to him properly about your ordeal. 

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve dinner. There’s going to be enough drinking then,” you say to him while gritting your teeth. But you know that it would be highly unlikely that you are going to drink even then. 

You realise that you will have to find more excuses tomorrow to avoid any alcoholic drinks being passed onto your hands. But you can figure that out later. You first need to figure out how to share him the news. 

“You should go back. Alia would be looking for you by now,” you say to him with a bite while avoiding his eyes as you try to walk around him, yet he stops you from running away again. 

This time, he isn’t using his words. 

Your entire body freezes as he catches your wrist. Once he knows that he has gotten you right where he wants you to, he starts pulling you gently back to him. You look up at his face, surprised that he would do something so daring when he was the one who had been so adamant about keeping your history with him a secret. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, yet you don’t make a move to pull away. You throw a quick glance towards the hallway leading to the living room, worrying that someone might suddenly show up. “Are you crazy? What if someone comes here?” 

Taehyung steps closer until you can feel his warmth engulfing you. He only stops once his chest is merely a few inches away from yours. His move seems menacing, and so does the look in his eyes as he looks at your face. 

Those are the same eyes that had been looking back at you that night. You get to see the same look you saw then. Passionate. Enthralling. He grounds you with nowhere else to go even without having to restrain you to him, only refraining you from escaping him with nothing more but the look in his eyes. 

Suddenly, the room feels tight. As though there is not enough air in your chest for you to breathe, much less to speak. And he is getting too close for comfort. 

His hold on your wrist loosens, yet he doesn’t pull away. The dark look in his eyes also wanes, and he looks almost as if he is in pain when he leans down, getting even closer until your faces are almost touching each other. 

“Is it making you feel uneasy that I’m around? Is that why you keep running away from me when I’m there?” he questions you with a voice so soft that you would have missed it if he hasn’t been this close, with his lips hovering close to yours. 

So close that you can almost feel his kiss, even without touching. Each word he murmurs to you sends your skin shivering, while the cavities inside your chest seem to tighten on themselves when he whispers, “You might be able to ignore it and pretend nothing happened, but I can’t.” 

You take a sharp inhale of breath. What is he saying right now? 

Suddenly, you feel as if you have just walked into a dream. The same feeling that you had that night returns to you; all the sparks that seem to be floating in the air around you; the way your head seems to be in a haze, as if his entire presence is intoxicating you. 

And his words are making your head spin. 

Once again, you feel as if you are under his spell. But at the same time, you feel irritated at him for doing this. For choosing to act like this now, when he was just holding hands with your stepsister just moments ago.

While your irritation lights up, he rubs his thumb across your wrist, and the sparks explode around you like fireworks. “Tell me you’re not feeling it too.” 

And just like that, his voice snaps you right out of the spell that he placed on you. Closing your eyes, you suck a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“This isn’t right. Alia is in the next room,” you grit your teeth. You open your eyes and glare at him. “You were the one who told me not to tell Alia about us. Was that not your way of telling me to forget everything?” 

Taehyung’s eyes grow wide and he slowly pulls back. To his credit, his face is filled with shame when you remind him of his own words. 

Leaning closer, you whisper to him, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking when you question him, “Or do you make it a habit of jumping from one woman to another as long as it’s convenient for you?” 

He winces. Once again, he looks pained after hearing your accusation. “We’re going to talk. Once the time is right,” he whispers. He clenches his jaw, looking tense for a moment until he lets everything go with a sigh. “But you need to stop avoiding me.” 

You rear back, not expecting to find that he has noticed that you have been deliberately keeping your distance. 

How are you going to explain to him the reason why you can’t possibly stay in the same room with him? 

For you, the reason is quite obvious. You are still feeling it now, when your skin feels tight and your chest grows warm the longer you are in close proximity to him. Even when you entered a room once he left, you could still feel his presence lingering around you, and it was starting to drive you insane. 

And yes, seeing him with Alia bothers you so much that you can never bear being there to witness it.

After your last conversation where he made it seem like he wanted to move on and forget everything, you thought that he would only notice Alia and wouldn’t care to notice your predicament. But obviously, he isn’t completely oblivious to your turmoil. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” you insist. 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?” he questions you with an accusing tone. “I don’t think I imagined it when I saw you turning away and running out of the room whenever I came in.” 

He is right, and you find it impossible to lie about it when you barely tried to hide it.

Tired of holding out the truth, you finally admit to him with a small voice, “No, you’re not imagining things. Do you really think it’s fun for me to watch you both together with Alia getting all over you the entire time you’re here?” 

The light in his eyes dims. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he sighs, “I’ll talk to her so she can tone it down.”

You shake your head and chuckle bitterly. “Don’t bother. She’s your girlfriend. I’ll be out of here right after Christmas anyway.” 

This makes him frown. “Look, ______,” he starts, but you are too exhausted to deal with this right now to listen.

“I have to go,” you whisper as you pull your hand away. “We’ll have that talk—” 

Because there are a lot of things that I need to tell you.

“And then I’m gone and you can go back to Alia with her family thing on Christmas Day. But tomorrow night, we talk. Right after the family dinner.” 

Not bothering to wait for his response, you turn and walk away, once again leaving him behind in that dimly lit hallway as you search for solace, somewhere far, far away from him. 

Taehyung has been restless. 

He has been feeling uneasy for days. The truth is, it has been like this for him since the moment he stepped foot into Alia’s father’s house and saw you standing there. It has been a struggle to hide it and keep everything in. But last night, after talking to you again, the urge to speak to you about everything and explain himself has been growing even stronger. 

The look that you gave him when he first saw you has been haunting him, weighing him with guilt. Ever since that night six weeks ago, he has kept your smile deeply ingrained in his memory; the coy smile that you gave him as you flirted with him at the bar; the sultry look you wore when you clung onto him at the elevator while testing his limits with your lips tracing his neck; the content smile that he saw on your face the morning after the long, passionate night he shared with you before he took you again one last time. 

And yet, the smile that he kept wishing to see again for the past month was not there when he finally met you again. The expression that he has yearned to see had been replaced with shock, as you stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, while at the same time, you also seemed as if you had just witnessed someone kicking your puppy. 

Which was quite understandable, looking back at it now. It must have been a complete shock for you to see him entering your home, holding Alia’s hand and introducing himself as her boyfriend. Just as shocking it was for him to find out that you are Alia’s stepsister.

Fuck, how did things get so messed up?

”You’re not ready yet.”

Taehyung has been so out of it when he enters the motel’s bedroom that he fails to notice Alia watching him. Sitting right in front of the dressing table, she barely gives him a glance as she is busy putting on her makeup and doing her hair for the night. 

Normally, she doesn’t take this much time getting ready. But Taehyung understands that tonight is different. 

According to Alia, the family’s Christmas Eve dinner is a small annual gathering that is quite important for them. Held on behalf of Honey, who often spends the holiday with Cliff’s side of the family. It is when family members and second cousins would come to her Dad’s house to celebrate both the holidays and Honey’s good health. 

Ever since early this morning, Alia has been saying how she needs to look as her best self tonight—spoken in her own words—because she wants to make a good impression on her stepmother’s family. The only problem was that she also made it clear that she wanted Taehyung to play his role as her boyfriend perfectly, to continue to show that they have a great relationship right in front of everyone, just the same way he has been doing it for the past few days. 

It shouldn’t be bothering him so much that she would ask him to do this. Since that was the main reason why he is here in the first place. 

The original plan had been simple. All he had to do this holiday was to accompany Alia on her trip home to see her family. The family gathering from her mother’s side has always been so stressful, and he simply wanted to help her lessen the pressure so she could enjoy the holidays for once. 

Yet her mother’s special Christmas gathering tomorrow had not been the only thing that was bothering Alia before this holiday came around. Once Taehyung agreed to be her plus one, she extended her desperate plea for help by asking him to come with her as she spends Christmas and the upcoming days to it with her father’s family before heading to see her mother.  

He can’t remember well what Alia told him about having to be here. He understood the reason when it came to her mother, but he barely knew anything about her father’s family. He remembers her talking about something that had to do with clearing her name. Obviously, he should’ve paid more attention, and maybe he should’ve taken the time to know more about Cliff’s family. 

Not that it matters now. When he has travelled all the way here for this, and now he is stuck in this mess without having any clue how to fix it.   

“Taehyung?” 

Taehyung blinks. “What?” 

Alia doesn’t say a thing at first. For a moment, Taehyung wonders if she notices anything when she tilts her head at him, finally looking directly at him as if she is trying to read him. 

Yet he is proven wrong when Alia merely sighs. “I just said that you need to get ready,” Alia says, unaware of the battle happening inside Taehyung’s mind. Before he can say a thing, Alia averts her gaze and looks back at the mirror as if she is trying to solve a puzzle. “You need to look your best if you’re going to stay beside me and we’re going to be late if you’re not moving it.”  

Chuckling to himself, Taehyung walks over to stand right behind her. With his face appearing in the mirror, she has no choice but to look at him. “Should I wear my best suit tonight, then?” he taunts her as he leans down, breathing in her perfume that is a bit too extravagant to his liking. 

I was right, this perfume is nowhere near my taste, he says to himself, while he silently recalls breathing in your perfume and thinking just how much it suited you.

Alia looks up at him through the mirror and rolls her eyes. “You can wear whatever. A suit would be too much, since we’re having the dinner at home, not at some fancy and way too expensive restaurant like how my Mom would have it. You did bring your suit, didn’t you? Wear that at my Mom’s party tomorrow,” Alia instructs him, and for some reason, it doesn’t make him feel good about it.

Usually, he wouldn’t take it to heart and just laugh it off when she acts this bossy around him. Not this time, however. The entire situation has made him grow a bit resentful to her, something that he has been realising for a while now, even if it isn’t fair for her to be treated this way when it wasn’t really her fault. 

Alia keeps her eyes on the mirror when she continues to speak to him. “Wear that black jacket that you love so much. You always look good in it,” she says, flickering her gaze in a teasing way when she adds, “Even I would swoon when I see you wearing it, and that doesn’t happen a lot.” 

Taehyung scoffs at Alia and lowers his head to avoid her gaze. The black jacket brings back a lot of memories. He didn’t think much of it when he brought it with him on this trip, but maybe a part of him already felt that he would be needing it. 

Would it be okay to wear it tonight, right in front of her?

“Are you okay?” Alia’s voice snaps him out of his musings. As he looks up to meet her gaze through the mirror, she surprises him by not only softening her voice, but looking as if she is worried about him. “You know, you don’t seem like yourself lately.” 

How nice of you to notice, Taehyung wonders to himself but bites his tongue so he wouldn’t let those words slip. He has been wondering for a while now just how she could remain oblivious to everything that has been happening around her. 

If only she would notice how uncomfortable he feels whenever she clings to him, or how their act in front of her family bothers you so much. 

Maybe she does notice it, he muses. Maybe she’s been doing it on purpose by pushing it on him. Does it have to do with—

Before Taehyung could finish his own thoughts, Alia seems to have enough of his silence and turns on her seat to look at him straight in the eyes. 

“What is it? Spill.” 

Taehyung only continues to remain silent, having no idea how to answer that question or if he should try to. Even if he can explain himself, where should he even start? 

Is this the part where he needs to tell her that her stepsister—the reason why Alia decided to come to see her Dad after spending weeks complaining that she didn’t have any desire to, and also the reason why she is trying so damn hard to impress everyone this holiday, even to the point of bringing Taehyung home to meet her family—was his last sex partner? 

“You need to tell her.” 

Taehyung closes his eyes as your voice echoes through his head, as if you are the voice of his conscience. 

You were right. He needs to tell Alia about his connection to you. But knowing her mood swings, and the reason why she has been trying to be ‘perfect’ the entire time she was spending time with Cliff’s family, he was hoping that he could postpone talking to her about it until tonight’s big family dinner is done. 

An event that Alia claimed to be more important for her than her mother’s fancy family gathering. 

No, I need to talk to her first, he decides. Maybe we could figure something out once she knows everything. 

“Nothing. I’m just overwhelmed. You didn’t tell me—” he stops himself as he almost let it slip that it was your presence that bothers him. 

You didn’t tell me anything about your stepsister. 

He keeps those words to himself. But he makes a mental note to bring it up once he gets back to her again by the end of the night to have a different kind of conversation to the one he is having with you. “So, black jacket, huh? Got it.” 

“Good, now go get ready and make it quick. The trip from here back to Dad’s house will take some time,” Alia says with a sigh as she turns back to the mirror, her concern is quick to vanish as she proceeds to complain, “We could’ve spared that trip if you hadn’t insisted that we stay in this motel instead of using the guest room like me and my Dad suggested.” 

“I already told you,” Taehyung says with a deep chuckle, leaning back down again to whisper, “I’m a terrible actor.” 

He straightens up while looking pleased with himself for drawing a frown on Alia’s face. “And being in your Dad’s house the entire time we’re here would cost me too much work. The gig would’ve been up before you know it.” 

“Fine, whatever. Just go,” Alia waves him off. 

Taehyung nods and makes his way to the door. He stops before he opens it and asks her, “Remember what I asked earlier?” 

Once again, Alia rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah, tone it down with the clingy girlfriend act. I get it. Now go get ready, we’re going to be late.” 

Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief to hear it. He can’t seem to forget the way the light in your eyes seemed to dim when you talked about the way he kept putting on the new couple act in front of you. On top of this whole mess, the last thing he wants is to leave you feeling hurt by his actions, so he made a deal with Alia to tone it down, even if he couldn’t explain to her the reason why. 

Pleased to know that Alia is listening to him for once, and that he has at least one problem handled before tonight, Taehyung leaves Alia’s motel room, closing the door behind him with a click before he goes to his own room to get ready.

You turn to your side and have a good look at yourself in the mirror. On instinct, your hands run down your belly, pressing down gently at the spot where the baby should be. 

The knitted dress that you have chosen to wear tonight may not be the fanciest one, but it is the one that feels comfortable on your skin. It isn’t tight enough on your body to make you feel self-conscious about yourself and definitely not enough to show the changes happening in your body. 

With just over six weeks of gestation, the baby bump isn’t showing that much yet. But you can still feel the way your body is changing. Perhaps it is all happening in your mind, only from knowing that you are keeping a living being inside you, but you can almost see it when you look at yourself in the mirror that you cannot help but try to do anything you can to hide it from your family. 

For now, at least. Only until you are ready to reveal everything to them. 

Thinking about this only makes you grow more anxious. You have been feeling this way since morning, all for the thought of having to face Taehyung again, and to finally talk about everything that is needed to be said before the night ends. 

“Tonight,” you tell yourself as you straighten up to look at your reflection in the mirror for one last time. “I’m going to tell him about the baby tonight.” 

Tonight will be the only chance you will ever have to talk to him, after all.  

Tomorrow, Taehyung will join Alia to visit her birth mother. Alia’s mother has always held a massive luncheon or dinner event on Christmas Day that Alia would be required to attend, so you doubt that she would miss it this year, even if you had always overheard her complaining about it to your stepfather.  

Every year, Alia would always prioritise her mother’s family event over her father’s during the holiday season. Coming from a wealthy family, Alia’s mother had always appeared to you like a different breed. Her holiday parties had always been so fancy, almost too extravagant compared to your family’s simple ones. 

Every year, Alia would focus on preparing for those events, always stressing about it before going, and barely focusing on her days spent with her father and his family that it did come as a surprise to you when she came early this year to join your family and to even get herself involved. 

Perhaps that was the reason why she had decided to bring a date with her this time around, and to introduce her boyfriend to the family like you did with your ex. 

Shaking the thoughts of Alia out of your mind, you finish getting ready and walk over to your purse. With gentle fingers, you pull out the sonogram that you had printed during your latest trip to the doctor. 

Holding it up under the light, you brush your fingertips across the blurry image of your growing baby. Sometimes it is still hard for you to process the fact that you are carrying a human child within you. Even through the nausea, the cravings, the lethargy, and any other peculiar things that have become parts of your life as of late, you still have a hard time grasping this fact. 

But this sonogram shows you the undeniable proof that the baby is there. You had even gotten the chance to hear the baby’s faint heartbeat on your last appointment, making it clear that you are carrying a life inside you. 

A life that seems so fragile, that you have developed a strong urge to protect it from the world. Even from its father, if he ever tries to deny or reject it. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you whisper to yourself while brushing your fingers on the picture again, speaking of it like a mantra. At the same time, it also feels as if you are talking to your baby, soothing it like you would if the baby is here with you. “Everything’s going to be okay. Let’s just get through tonight first.” 

For a moment, you contemplate between carrying the sonogram with you or to leave it here. With no purse or a pocket to hide it in, you finally decide to leave it on top of the bedside table until you are ready to show it to Taehyung later tonight. 

With one last look at the mirror, you rub your palms down your dress and give yourself the final pep talk before heading out. “Let’s go,” you whisper to yourself as you walk out of your bedroom, strengthening your shoulders and keeping your chin up as you prepare yourself to face the inevitable.

It’s finally Christmas Eve. 

The holiday spirit hasn’t completely sunk in on you until you finally sat down at the table for the annual Christmas dinner, surrounded by your immediate family and the family members that you haven’t met for a period of time while you have been pursuing your dreams away in the city. 

Outside, the temperature has dropped down even lower than before. The layer of snow that your stepfather had spent hours shovelling away are piling up with fresh ones as snowflakes keep falling from the evening sky, while the windows would tremble once or twice with the flowing breeze that seemed to have picked up as the day turned into evening. 

Inside, however, the warmth of the festive season fills the air, as everyone gathers around the overflowing feast that has been set up on the table—your grandmother’s specially made ham and turkey with the additional main of lamb skewers and turkey meatballs, Aunt Dara’s potato bake and baked salmon, and Uncle Marco’s signature casseroles, with smaller bowls of side dishes set on the side. 

A couple of bowls of the fennel salad that you helped prepare are being passed around on the table. Once everyone is done with their meal, your home-made cinnamon bread rolls and your cousin June’s apple and caramel pie are ready to be served as desserts. 

Once everyone has filled the dining room, your mother’s Christmas decorations which you perviously thought was overdone no longer seemed as much. The twinkling lights and the fragrant pine garlands adorning the room are enough to rival the festive sweaters and bright-coloured dresses that everyone is wearing for the night. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafts around you all the way from the kitchen, and it makes your head swim even without sipping on the champagne that are being passed around.

As everyone took their seats at the table, you stepfather stepped aside to let Honey take the head of the table as the matriarch of the family and the night’s host. The radiant smile on her face which never seems to wane sets the mood in the entire room, helping you to also forget about your personal troubles that no longer seem as dire as your mind had made them up to be. 

The laughter and chatter filling the room becomes the perfect distraction that you need to pay no heed to the unwavering gaze that Taehyung keeps stealing your way. Even as he chats with June who had sat down by his side, Taehyung continues to throw a few not-so-subtle glances your way, making you feel uneasy and self-conscious whenever you aren’t having your attention dragged away from your younger cousin, Maya, who is chattering right beside you while sipping her glass of champagne.

You turn your gaze at Alia, who had chosen to sit by Cliff’s brother, Kyle, who had decided to join your family this year. Too busy catching up with her uncle, she doesn’t seem to notice her own boyfriend’s wandering eyes. She doesn’t even seem to care as much as she should, you realise, as you have also noticed that she hasn’t been clinging or openly doting on Taehyung throughout the night since they had gotten back from the motel. 

It has given you a sense of relief, because you can finally have one night where your heart isn’t being crushed from watching them together, but also a twinge of guilt, knowing that your last conversation with Taehyung may have had something to do with it. She did appear tense when she first came in, and you never figured out why when it quickly faded the moment she saw her uncle in the room, and her stiff expression quickly turned into relief. 

The sounds of glasses clinking and the pouring champagne continues on as everyone is starting to finish their meal. Nursing the glass of fresh juice that you have had all through dinner, you hope that nobody notices that you have left the glass of champagne on your side mostly untouched—apart from the occasional raise of the glass when someone makes a toast or pressing your lips lightly on its rim to disguise the fact that you are not drinking any drop of it. 

Not too long, dinner is over, and everyone filters into the spacious living room to gather around the fireplace while the kids loiter around the Christmas tree to curiously shift through the wrapped presents to try and find which one of them would be theirs. 

There are a selective few that separate themselves to head out to the back porch to smoke and talk business—mostly your male cousins—while the others quickly follow Honey to where she has set up the minibar for her signature rum cocktails and act as the designated bartender for the night. 

As you follow to join everyone in the living room, the impending conversation that you are about to have with Taehyung keeps weighing you down, making you grow more anxious with each passing second. It makes you feel vulnerable, causing you to be hyper-aware of his presence inside the room even before you catch the sight of him mingling with your family. 

Moving one feet after the other without tripping feels like a struggle under the heat of his gaze. It bothers you to no end to notice that Taehyung seems to have disregarded any last bit of subtlety, when he is now openly staring at you even while he is chatting with someone else by the Christmas tree. 

You have no idea if anyone, especially Alia, has noticed it. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone has caught on, when he makes it so obvious that he is watching you from across the room. 

The only reprieve that you have to cover you from Taehyung’s gaze and the silent questions that may linger within any observant pair of eyes would be your grandmother, Honey, who steals most of the attention by running the show as she mixes her sweet cocktails and shares new stories about her friends back at her apartment complex and gossips that she heard recently from the neighbours here. 

“Congratulations.” 

A deep voice greets you, pulling you out of the stupor that you are in. You look over to see Kyle, your stepfather’s younger brother, coming to your side. 

It was a nice surprise to see him this year to join your family gathering, as your step-uncle has been working at another state for the past year and you haven’t seen each other since. Carrying a glass of wine with him—red, just the way he enjoys it—instead of a glass of cocktail, he gives you a warm smile that looks like a mirror image to his older brother. 

“I heard from your Dad that you just got another promotion. I’m guessing that this gathering is part of the celebration too?” he asks, while your skin warms at the mention of your stepfather. 

For as long as you could remember, you have been calling Cliff as ‘Dad’. You can no longer remember how it started, but ever since you were little, the only ‘Dad’ you have ever known has been Cliff, not the birth father who had been gone almost your entire life. He may not be your birth father, and there has been no talking about him adopting you yet, but he is the one and only Dad that you’ll ever know. 

Having someone else noticing and acknowledging it feels gratifying. Especially when it is coming from his side of the family. 

Nodding your head, you answer your step-uncle with a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s what Honey said and she insisted that we host the annual dinner this year instead of Aunt Dara. But we all know that she’s the main star of the show,” you joke with him as you nod your chin to point at Honey, who is teasing your mother about dropping rum into her hot cocoa instead of taking one of her sweet cocktails. 

Kyle laughs with you as he watches the scene. “Still, you should be proud of yourself.” 

“Oh, I am proud,” you answer him with a smile. “I worked hard for it, but I’m feeling a bit guilty too since the busier I had gotten, the lesser I was able to make time to contact my parents.” 

Your step-uncle nods. “You can’t help it. That’s often the cost of building a career,” he says, understanding your situation, as he too has the same troubles of making time for his family with his busy life. 

“But your parents would understand. In fact, your Dad has been bragging about his girls quite a lot lately. One who keeps traveling across the globe to see the world, while the other who keeps climbing the corporate ladder, and I have to say—” he sighs, “I’m kind of jealous.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Has he now?” you chuckle a little, somehow feeling good about being your stepfather’s pride. “Oh, you shouldn’t be feeling too jealous of Dad. You know your kids are doing great too. They’re both in college now, aren’t they?”

At the mention of his children, Kyle’s eyes seem to grow brighter. He speaks with a voice full of pride as he talks about the two young boys who had just returned from the back porch and now huddling in front of the fireplace to warm up while bickering on their own. 

You stay to talk to him for a while longer, until your stepfather steals him away to share a bottle of a much stronger liquor in another room and you continue to mingle with the other family members that you haven’t met for a while. 

By the time you are done catching up, the object of your frustration—who is coincidentally also the father of your baby—forgotten, you are feeling drained and your legs are giving up from standing for too long that you unceremoniously collapse on the couch in the corner of the room without a single care. 

For a moment, you find calmness by sitting on your own, staying in the corner where you are mostly unnoticed. The festivities is still high around you, but you find freedom here, away from everyone’s attention. Too bad that you aren’t given the chance to savour it when someone decides to slide in and sit right next to you. 

“So—I suppose that aside from the cocktail tasting, the gift exchange is going to be the main part of the night’s event, huh?” 

A shudder rocks through your body. His deep, distinctive voice does that to you even when you hear it in your dreams. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself before turning to him, hoping that you have enough strength to look at his face without feeling like your heart is about to burst. 

Slowly, you turn to look at him, and immediately, your entire body betrays you. Your heartbeat picks up, and the cavity in your chest is overflowing with gentle flutters, as if there are a thousand of butterfly wings inside you coming awake with just one look at his face. Taehyung lets his gaze linger on the children who are showing off their wrapped gifts to their parents before looking back at you. 

Your cheeks burn the moment your eyes meet each other, and you look away before it gets too much. “Yes, we’re exchanging gifts before the night ends, and then everyone will go on their merry way. Some drunk, while relying on their designated drivers or a cab, and some others to continue with their own thing back home,” you explain to him while trying to keep your voice calm. “It started mostly with Honey being the one giving out the gifts on the Eve, since it’s her thing to give something to everyone she cares about.” 

A smile is lifted on your face while you watch Honey handing out small wrapped boxes of gifts to the children first before the older ones get their turns. The cheerful laughter shared by everyone who has received Honey’s special gifts fills the room. Curious expressions that quickly turn into joy has always been the high point of these Christmas gatherings in your family. 

You should be there to join them, to enjoy the festivities, yet with everything that has been going on, you are feeling too overwhelmed to take part in it. “After a while, the relatives who are often invited to these things started joining in, bringing in their own gifts in addition to the plates of food that they bring for dinner.” 

“Sounds like so much fun,” Taehyung muses. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” 

“Why are you sitting back here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Alia?” you question him as you wonder why he would be so daring to join you instead of staying by his girlfriend’s side and play his role as her plus one. “You could’ve asked Alia about these things.”

Taehyung grins. “She’s busy with her own thing. Besides, every time I ask her about these things, she would just brush it off and tell me to ask someone else.” 

Frowning, you find his comment to be odd. It isn’t something that you could expect to hear from a new couple such as them. Lest of all from one half of the couple that haven’t been shy with their constant public display of affection from the day they arrived. 

Once again avoiding Taehyung’s gaze as he looks at you again, you find Alia across the room, conversing with one of Kyle’s sons. Judging from the way she seems to be enjoying herself with the glass of cocktail in her hand, she doesn’t seem to care much about what her boyfriend is up to, much less to feel curious enough to find him. 

That’s odd, but it’s not really my problem, is it?  

You remind yourself and put your curiosity aside. “You could’ve asked Honey. You seem to have grown closer to her lately,” you tease Taehyung, pointing out how often he has been spending time with your grandmother whenever he isn’t busy helping others in the house or catering to Alia’s need for attention. 

Taehyung chuckles softly. “How could I bother the host of the party? Look at her enjoying herself. She’s the superstar tonight, so I’d rather not take her out of the spotlight just to be my guide.” 

Even without looking, you can hear the smile in his voice as he talks about your grandmother. And when you look ahead, you can obviously see that he isn’t completely wrong. 

Honey is clearly having the time of her life; whether it’s about watching the happy faces receiving her gifts or seeing people enjoying the drinks she is making. She may have lessened her own drinking habit—except for the occasional drop of rum that she sneaks into her hot drinks—but she still knows how to make amazing sweet and fruity cocktails for others to enjoy. 

That should explain why you have the penchant for sweet alcoholic drinks instead of the bitter ones whenever you feel like it.

“So,” you turn to Taehyung with a sly smile. “I guess that means I’ve earned the honour to answer your questions?” 

Taehyung seems surprised to see that you smiling back at him. His gaze softens, and so does his voice when he leans closer to say, “You’re the only person I know in this room.” 

Fuck. Your cheeks shouldn’t be getting warm just because he says something like this. You look away to hide it. “Is Alia the jealous type? Would it bother her to see us chatting as friendly as we do now?” 

Taehyung scoffs. “I don’t think she even bothers to notice. Not tonight, anyway.” 

“Yeah…she can be the least perceptive person in the room sometimes,” you sigh as you watch your stepsister joking with her cousin without a single glance at her boyfriend. Realising what you just said, you turn to Taehyung to apologise. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine,” he scoffs. “Trust me, I know it full well from experience.” 

There is a sarcastic tone in his voice that should have made you wonder about his comment. Yet there is a bitterness that you feel inside after hearing those words. Of course, he would have enough experience dealing with Alia’s attitude. 

They are dating, after all. 

You look away and bite back that bitter taste in your tongue. “Right, of course.” 

Unlike Alia who can be completely insensitive to her surroundings, Taehyung notices your change of mood right away. You feel him sliding closer, just enough to allow him to speak in a low voice, but not enough to make people grow curious or suspicious that something is going on between the two of you. 

“You promised that we could talk,” he says, almost a whisper under the noises around you.  

Your stomach feels tight with nerves. It’s time. “I did, and we do,” you say to him while clenching your hands. You are beginning to wonder if you had made the right decision of leaving the sonogram behind. Maybe bringing him back to your bedroom wouldn’t be a good idea. “I have—something to tell you. Something important.” 

Taehyung nods. “Do you think we can slip out of the room unnoticed?” 

“You mean…now? You want to do it right now?” you hiss at him, glancing at Alia before looking back at him again. “Wouldn’t Alia be looking for you?” 

Taehyung merely scoffs. “Like I said, she’s busy. Once she gets a few more glasses of drink, she’ll be more focused on looking for a sofa to lie down on instead of noticing that I’m gone.” 

As if on cue, Alia’s laughter echoes through the room, and she turns away to joke with both of her male cousins now. You also notice that she has somehow gotten a fresh glass of cocktail in her hand, and she must have drank it halfway already by the looks of it. 

Looking around the room, you notice that the guests crowding the living room is slowly dwindling. Most of your relatives who had gotten enough of Honey’s cocktail and received their gifts are starting to bid their goodbyes, hoping that they could return home before it gets too late and preferably before each of their designated drivers join in with the drinking. Yet there are some family members who have yet to show any sign of leaving soon, still enjoying their chat with Honey by the Christmas tree. 

There will be no other chance, you tell yourself as you silently make a decision. The lesser people there are left, the more obvious it would be for everyone that you had gone missing from the room. 

And with whom you may have disappeared together. 

“Can you, uh—meet me in my room in about ten minutes, maybe less? I think we can get some privacy there and people don’t normally get upstairs unless they’re staying the night.” And because I left the sonogram there. 

That’s right, it would be easier to show the sonogram to him right away when you tell him everything, just as how you initially planned it, even if you haven’t been too sure about it. “I’ll have to mingle a bit more and make sure that Honey can see me before I disappear. She’ll be looking for me if I don’t join her even if for a minute.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Taehyung says as he straightens up, “You go ahead and talk to Honey, and I’ll sneak us out some drinks so we have something to do while we talk.”  

“Drinks. Right. Good idea,” you simply say to him, not bothering to try and turn down his offer, or to insist him to bring you the non-alcoholic ones. He’ll figure things out later once you are alone with him anyway. 

With a nod, Taehyung rises from his seat and walks over to June, your cousin who seems to have gotten along with Taehyung over dinner. You wait for a few more minutes before making your move. Honey seems to be busy as more and more relatives are preparing to leave. So you turn to Aunt Dara and have a quick chat with her, making sure that the two of you remain within Honey’s peripheral vision so she can still see you. 

Too restless to linger around and stay a bit longer, in not more than five minutes, you end your conversation and turn away from your aunt, hoping that you can slip away from the room before anyone notices your stealthy escape. Not even Honey. Because the moment you are caught by your grandmother, you know it would make it even harder for you to leave the room. 

But just as you slip through the guests, staying clear from your mother’s relatives who are crowding Honey, your grandmother catches the sight of you and calls out—

“______, there you are. We were just talking about you. Come over here,” she says, waving her hand so you can join her and the small group that still remains to accompany her after a couple of more relatives have left the party. 

Fuck. Too late. 

Forcing a smile, you slither towards her, practically dragging your feet. “What is it, Honey?” 

Honey leans against the minibar and picks up a small bottle. She continues mixing and pouring the drinks as she starts talking to you, “I was just talking to them about your recent promotion and how proud you made us. And then Jennie here shared that she is starting a new job and moving to the same city where you work. I told them that you have a big apartment that I love so much—” 

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Honey, I already told you. I don’t own the place, I rent it with a roommate.” 

“Anyway,” she brushes you off, “I wondered if you could be a dear and help Jennie out to find a nice apartment. You know people in the city can be a bit sneaky. We’ve heard stories of young girls getting scammed the first time they’ve gone into a big city, so obviously, I was worried.” 

Before you can say anything, Jennie raises her hand and cuts in, “I told Honey that I’ve already been looking up at a few places so—”

Jennie’s voice fades in and out and you can barely focus on what she is trying to tell you. Something about making arrangements with property agents to look up for a few affordable apartments not far from where you live. But your attention is being drawn elsewhere, as you notice from the corner of your eyes, that Taehyung is nodding at June and walking away, barely giving you a glance as he slides towards the small corner table filled with bottles of beer to grab the drinks he promised you. 

“You know what, why don’t you call me up once you start moving. Maybe you can crash at my place and use the couch while you’re looking. Then I’ll see if I can arrange my schedules to go with you when you’re looking into those apartments so you won’t have to go alone.” 

“That sounds great!” Jennie says, looking relieved, and you see it as a chance to also slip away so you can get to your bedroom before Taehyung could. 

“Honey, I—” 

“See? I told you that _____ is an angel,” Honey cuts you off before you can get a word out. Then she turns to you, handing you the glass of cocktail that she was mixing while you were chatting with your cousin. 

“Here, you should try this. I made this specially for you,” she says as she gives the drink a few more stirs. “I remember that you loved the rose scented drinks I bought you, so I ordered this infused—” 

You bite your lips, trying to hide away your revulsion as Honey raises the glass to you so you can take it from her. On reflect, you lift your hands to refuse. “No, thank you, Honey. I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for cocktails right now. I’ve just finished my hot chocolate, after all.” 

“That’s too bad. Well, I guess someone else has to taste this one for me.” She pouts, making you feel guilty for refusing her offer as she lowers her hand. “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen you drinking tonight. In fact, I haven’t seen you drink any alcoholic drink at all this holiday. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Your stomach drops. An incredulous laugh leaves your lips. “W-what?” 

What did she say? You wonder. You must’ve heard her wrong. Right?

Honey shrugs as she puts away the rejected drink and places it on top of the minibar. “Seeing how you keep getting sick and avoiding alcoholic drinks since you got here, I would think that you’re secretly pregnant,” she says while laughing and looking proud, as if she was simply throwing her crude joke as she usually does without realising how spot on it was to the truth. “Are you carrying a child in that belly, dear?” 

The room falls into a rapt hush after Honey throws that comment into the room. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, while Honey remains unfazed, still wearing her curious smile as if she hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Honey? W-what are you saying?” you nervously ask her, while your sweet grandmother merely shrugs and innocently waves you off. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, sweetie. Just thinking out loud. It’s just that seeing you get sick every morning, and being so sensitive with certain smells reminds me a lot of myself when I was pregnant with your Mom. You haven’t even touched a drop of alcohol I offered since you got home, and I know that you barely touched your glass of champagne during dinner,” she says with a wicked chuckle. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t. You tried to hide it, but I knew. I have eyes, you know.” 

Fuck. I didn’t think she would notice. 

Gritting your teeth, you can only curse at yourself for acting such a fool. You thought you were being clever about it, but you must have been distracted by Taehyung’s presence at dinner that you failed to notice that Honey had kept her eyes on you all night. 

“I—” 

You try to speak, but words fail you. How do you respond? What do you say to this? 

Ever since from the moment you came back home, you had expected that Honey would be the one who is able to put the pieces together, being the perceptive person that she is, and she had been the reason why you have been extra careful in hiding it, especially when you were around her. 

Never once did you ever expect that she would so quick to draw up this conclusion and speak of it so nonchalantly with a few relatives are still around. 

“Mom, stop talking nonsense,” your mother gently chastises your grandmother while laughing nervously. She looks back and forth between you and her mother, her eyes flickering on your face, then to your belly, as if she is trying to find what she has been missing. “_____ can’t be pregnant. Right, sweetie?” 

Your tears begin to form. “I, uh—I don’t—” 

Your head starts spinning harder the more you try to speak up, to explain, knowing that it would be futile to lie. Not to Honey. And certainly not to your parents. 

Under the attention and distress, feeling the burden of having all eyes on you, all of them waiting for your answer, your hands move on their own, finding comfort in embracing the very spot where your growing baby is hidden as you press your palms on your barely-there bump. Noticing this, a collective gasp spreads through the room. Honey’s smile falters, while your mother’s eyes grow wide in shock. 

But the most devastating of all is to see your stepfather walking around his brother to get to you from across the room. “You’re pregnant?” Cliff asks you carefully as he slowly comes to your side. When you look up at is shock slowly turns into rage when he asks, “Is that why that prick left you? Did he get you pregnant and choose to walk away like a fucking coward?” 

“No, Dad. I—” 

While you are struggling to answer him, your stepfather’s voice continues to rise. “Tell me where he is and I’ll chase that fucker—” 

Everything moves in slow motion. Your stepfather who keeps cursing at your ex. Your Mom who keeps pulling him back to try and calm him down, and her pleading gaze silently asking you to explain. The whispering gasps and questions shared among the nervous glances that the guests are sending each other.

Everyone is talking at the same time, while you continue having a hard time to speak up. Your stomach feels tight. Even the touch of your hands no longer bring the calming warmth that your body needs. 

Gentle hands press down on your arms as you are slowly being pulled away from the chaos. You can only make out Jennie and Honey’s voices whispering to you, guiding you to breathe while helping you to sit down before you would pass out. 

Amidst the confusion, your eyes travel across the room, immediately finding Taehyung who is standing there in the corner with a frown on his face and a couple of bottles of drinks in his hands. As your eyes are locked with one another from the distance, you can see him processing through everything. His emotions are clearly written in his gaze; confusion, bewilderment, wonder. 

You have no idea what kind of look that he sees on your face, but slowly, you can tell that everything seems to sink in on him. A dawning realisation sparks through his eyes when he finally puts the pieces together, and his shoulders fall to slump.

He knows. 

And he isn’t the only one who is putting the pieces together. 

With a quick glance, you find Alia standing on the other side of the room, her eyes keep flickering between you and Taehyung, evidently noticing the silent exchange happening between the two of you. There is a clear sign of shock and hurt in her eyes that you get to see a glimpse of when she looks at you one last time, before she turns away and runs out of the room. 

“You need to rest. The stress wouldn’t be good for you.” 

Jennie’s voice sounds subdued, worrying. She has always been shy, but she seems particularly cautious as she looks at you. As if she is trying her best not to look down at your belly. But her presence here and her small, careful voice offers you comfort. Something that you need as you lean against the doorway to your bedroom, feeling a bit too weak to stand on your own. 

“I’m sorry you got entangled in all of this,” is all that you can say to her. You feel guilty for having your cousin and your aunt roped into this whole drama, all because they had been there to witness it when everything unfolded. 

While your step-uncle, Kyle, took over escorting the departing guests, and your mother is somewhere in the house to talk with your stepfather, Jennie had volunteered to help escort you back to your room. She becomes the calming force amidst the storm that helps clear your mind. 

“It’s fine,” she waves you off. “You’ll be paying me back once I’ve moved closer to you anyway. The couch is still available, right? You said I could crash until I’m settled.” 

That helps bring a smile to your face. “Yes, my door is always open. I’ll let my roommate know that you’re coming. She’s usually open to welcoming family who needs help anyway,” you say to her with full gratitude before adding, “Thank you for staying to help.” 

She nods and begins to turn away. “I better go check on Honey and see if my Mom is ready to go. I’ll see you soon.” 

Too exhausted to say anything else, you simply thank her one last time and watch her go down the hall before closing the door. Once again, the silence in your bedroom gives you the perfect solace. It does nothing to erase the weight in your chest, however, or give you the answer you need as you wonder how you are going to talk to Taehyung about the whole thing. 

You never expected that things would turn into such a mess, robbing any chance of you telling Taehyung about the baby properly, free of drama and uncertainty. 

Just as you start dragging your feet towards the bed, you hear a soft knocking on the door, pulling you back to it. Thinking it might be Jennie, you immediately open it. “Did you forget—” Your voice falls to a hush when you find Taehyung standing there instead, giving you a small smile that draws back all the slow flutters in your chest. 

“Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” he gently greets you. His smile is cautious, restrained, and his exhale of breath seems shaky. But he sounds calm when he speaks to you, “May I come in?” 

You prepare yourself to answer, but your eyes flicker out the hallway, searching, a gesture that he easily notices. “Alia is with your parents. They’re worried about you, but your Mom seemed a bit frantic because she didn’t see the signs. Alia probably won’t be looking for me until later. I wanted to talk to you first.” 

“Okay,” you answer him with a sigh of relief. “Come in,” you beckon him, stepping aside so he can enter your room. 

He steps deeper into your room while you take your time, gathering courage before you can turn to face him. His voice fills your room as he continues to talk, “I left our drinks downstairs. Things were so chaotic, so it slipped my mind—” 

“That’s okay, it’s—” you say in return, failing to notice that his voice has faded out into silence. When you finally turn to him, you find him standing in front of your bedside table, his eyes are locked on the tiny thing that he is holding up under the dim light of the bedroom. 

He found the sonogram. 

“How far along are you?” His voice seems quiet against your thundering heartbeat, drowning even in the silence surrounding you.

You draw an unsteady breath before speaking up. “Six weeks, give or take.” 

Taehyung remains silent for a moment longer before a sigh comes out of him. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” he asks, still with his eyes on the sonogram. His expression is unreadable, something which you cannot fault him with, knowing that this must have come as a shock to him. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve gone to you sooner,” you quickly apologise to him. A part of you wants to rush by his side, even if you cannot decide whether you want to calm and soothe him or rip that sonogram from his hand. Yet your legs seem frozen, and you are locked at one spot with no ability to move.  

“From the moment I found out, I was planning to find you and figure out how to share the news to you in person, but then you showed up here with Alia, and I got”—blindsided, aghast, confused, terrified—”I just couldn’t figure out how to do it.” 

“So, I was right. This baby is mine.” 

Just as he says those words, you finally understand the look that he is wearing on his face. Captivated. Entranced. Amused. As if this revelation is more fascinating to him rather than it is frightening. It brings a twinge of hope rising inside you, telling you that maybe you can both figure out on how to deal with this. 

But what about Alia? 

“It was from that night, wasn’t it?” he asks again, breaking you out of your thoughts—from thinking about Alia. And you can almost sure that you catch the corner of his lips lifting to a smile.

“Yeah,” you cautiously say to him. “It happened the night we got together. I’ve never been with anyone else since—” 

“What is this all about?” A deep voice bellows through your small bedroom, cutting through your words before you can finish talking. Both you and Taehyung turn to the door, noticing too late that your stepfather is standing there, watching the two of you with grief and horror in his eyes. 

“Dad—what you are doing here?” you ask him as your eyes flicker towards the door behind him. 

Crap. Distracted by your own nerves that had been affected by Taehyung’s arrival, you must have failed to shut the door tightly behind you. 

“I came to check on you and apologise for freaking out,” Cliff says, frown deepening, his voice and the expression you see on his face convey a mixture of anger and hurt. “But what is he doing in here?” he continues, pointing at Taehyung. “Why is he in your room, when he’s supposed to be with Alia?” 

The atmosphere grows heavier, yet Taehyung—the brave soul that he is—carefully steps forward to face your stepfather. “Cliff, I can explain—”

“And what did I just heard about the two of you being together? Is that baby—” Cliff turns to point at you, then back at Taehyung again while keeping his eyes on you, expecting you to answer him. “Was he the one responsible?” 

Still holding the sonogram in his hand, Taehyung straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin. And it seems to be enough to answer your stepfather’s question. But what it only does is to aggravate Cliff even more. The air crackles with his rage, and he moves so fast—too fast for your mind to comprehend—as he grabs the front of Taehyung’s shirt and starts dragging him out of your bedroom. 

“Dad, no!” 

The moment you see your stepfather dragging Taehyung out the door, that is when you snap out of it and start running to chase them. As you run out the door, you see Alia who was clearly on her way to your bedroom. Her eyes are wide with shock, and though you are unable to interpret the gloss in her eyes—whether they are tears of hurt or her tipsiness—you can tell that she has been standing there long enough before anyone noticed.

But was she there long enough to hear everything?  

“Daddy? What are you doing?” Alia screams out, though she doesn’t make any move, seemingly in shock to see her father dragging Taehyung across the hallway. 

“Alia, you need to stop him!” 

Your scream snaps her out of her shock, and she quickly rushes to chase both men down the stairs. You try to follow them as fast as you can, but your heart is racing, your legs feel weak, you can barely manage to come down the stairs without tumbling down. 

“Careful!” Alia snaps at you in panic as she catches you at the final flight of stairs. You lift your head to thank her for helping you, only for her to give you no chance to as she turns away right after, chasing after her Dad who is now dragging her boyfriend out the yard. 

Once the both of you are out the house, you can hear your stepfather’s voice bellowing through the air. His accusations echo through the chilly night, his eyes are blazing with frustration and rage, and he still has his hand pulling at Taehyung’s shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground as he continues shouting profanities between his grievance. 

“—the fuck are you trying to pull?” he yells at Taehyung’s face, and you wince at how loud he is being against the silent night. 

The only relief you can savour is the fact that he hasn’t gone physical. No hits are thrown, and the only rough handling he has been doing is to shake Taehyung back and forth with his tight grip on his shirt as he demands the truth. An answer. Anything that could clear this whole misunderstanding.

Taehyung’s eyes dart over Cliff’s shoulder as he notices you and Alia coming. Your stepfather follows his gaze and is caught by surprised to see you chasing him. But as he looks at you, his gaze hardens as he pleads, “Tell me that it’s not true. Tell me that you weren’t sleeping with him while he’s seeing your sister.” 

No, it’s not true. They weren’t together. You remember hearing Taehyung denying it when you first questioned it, so it must’ve been the truth. Right?  

The night you hooked up with him flashes through your head. That night from six weeks ago, the shared moment that he claimed to be a time where he hadn’t gotten involved with Alia. You want to speak up, to deny that he was playing both you and Alia, that the only thing behind this whole mess had been mere coincidence. 

If only you could stop shaking. Get some words out. Anything. 

But your chest feels tight. You can barely breathe in air, much less to let your voice out. 

“Cliff, please! I told you, I can explain!” Taehyung tries to get your stepfather to listen. You see his hand reaching to grab Cliff’s wrist, though it doesn’t seem that the hold would budge no matter what he does to pull it off. His eyes turn to you, then to Alia, right before he screams out with fear in his eyes, “Alia!” 

“Don’t you dare say her name!” Cliff yells at him, and you force yourself to speak. 

“Sto—” you try once, failing when your chest tightens. “Stop,” you cry out again, “Dad, please—” 

Your voice comes out as nothing more than dried paper, a silent hush compared to the loud voices as Cliff and Taehyung continue to argue with each other at the center of the front yard. But Alia is standing close enough to you to hear it. Close enough to see your hands shaking, your face turning pale and sickly, and she quickly moves right in front of you, standing between you and the quarrelling men. 

“Daddy, stop yelling. You’re going to stress ______ out,” she yells at her Dad while pushing you behind her to keep you away from them, as if she is making sure you won’t get hurt.

She’s…defending me? 

Your head starts spinning harder. Everything is so confusing right now, and it makes you feel worse when you look at Alia, seeing her getting caught in the crossfire as she tries to separate the two while shielding you from the chaos. 

“And it’s not Taehyung’s fault!” she yells again, and this time, it seems to do the trick, because Cliff finally lets Taehyung go. 

Now free from your stepfather’s clutch, Taehyung steps back. He tries to catch his breath while fixing his shirt. You notice then that he is still holding your sonogram, surprising you when even amidst all the chaos, he is still gripping onto it protectively. 

“How is it not his fault?” Cliff snaps at your stepsister. “Why are you defending this asshole? He slept with your sister when he’s dating you, and he even dared to show his face at my—” 

“Because we’re not dating!” Alia cuts him off with a scream, and everything stops. Her scream even shuts the voices in your head, drawing a single question in their place—

What—? What did she just say? 

With all eyes on her, Alia begins to shake with nerves. And then the truth spills out of her mouth. “We, uh—Taehyung and I—we’re friends. I wasn’t planning to come this year but you kept calling me to come for Honey’s family dinner, and—” she says, stuttering as she points at her father, and then turns to face you to add, “I thought that your—I mean, Hansol. I thought he was going to come with you this year like he always did and I didn’t want you to think that—” 

Drawing a shaky breath, she pushes through her nerves and forces the rest of the truth to come out. “I asked Taehyung to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend so you wouldn’t think that I was going to try to make a move on Hansol again.” 

“Wait—what?” Taehyung snaps at her. He seems confused, and it is evident in your eyes that he never got to hear this part of the ordeal from Alia when he signed up for—whatever it was that they had agreed upon. “What did you do?” 

Alia opens her mouth to continue, yet Cliff cuts her off before she could. “Enough,” he says, no longer yelling. His voice sounds drained, exasperated, and yet there is an eerie calmness underneath that makes your skin shiver with fear. His silent rage terrifies you more than his loud, raging voice does, while the defeated look in his eyes hurts you deeply. “Alia, get inside. And you—” he turns to point at Taehyung. “Get out of my sight.” 

“Dad, no—” you step forward to stop him, yet Cliff doesn’t even look at you when he calmly orders Alia to move. 

“Alia, get your sister back in her room,” he says as he turns away, making his way back into the house.  

Left with no other choice, and feeling like the fight has left you, you let Alia place her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry,” you turn to Taehyung one last time as she starts guiding you back to the house, but then your stomach drops when he remains silent. His eyes are cold, as if he is trying to mask his true emotions as he looks at you. Something twists in your gut as if he had pierced a knife deeply through it. “Tae, wait—” 

A small smile is lifted on his lips, though it seems closer to a sneer, something which doesn’t seem to reach the pained look in his eyes, and that is the only thing that he gives you before he turns away and leaves the property without saying a single word. 

Sleep, without a doubt, has become fruitless. 

All night, you have been tossing and turning in your bed. Even when you manage to close your eyes and doze off a little, your stepfather’s grievance and Taehyung’s bereft smile flash through your mind, sending you to an abrupt wake each time. 

At the very last time you find yourself being forcefully pulled away from your restless sleep, you glance out the window, its curtains left partly opened, you see the shadows of nightfall slowly shifting. A blush of hue in gradient colours of purple and grey is beginning to emerge amidst the dark, and you can feel it in your skin the awakening of dawn. 

Too anxious to remain still on your cold bed, adrenaline and stress still flowing violently through your body, you finally give up trying to rest and tiptoe your way downstairs. 

The stillness in the house at night has always been something that you have come so familiar with, but as you walk down the stairs and into the quiet kitchen, the house feels more eerie that it usually does. You can almost hear the creaking sound of the floors and the walls around you, as if they are whispering to you all the things that they have witnessed from the night before. 

The air feels unusually cold. You fight the temptation to light up the fireplace once more and huddle up right in front of it, resisting only to avoid waking everyone else up, and then walk into the kitchen in search for another source of warmth. 

You are just beginning to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate to warm up when a figure steps into the archway leading towards the hallway. You turn with a jump, realising with relief that it is Alia. 

Giving you a hesitant smile, she walks into the kitchen. With her arms wrapped around herself and a thick shawl cloaking her shoulders, you realise that you are not the only one struggling with the cold. 

“Can’t sleep? Or did you wake up too early?” she asks you with a soft whisper. 

“A little bit of both. How about you?” 

She stands by the kitchen counter to watch you work. “Tried to sleep, but I kept having nightmares. I was running downstairs to catch up with Dad, and it kept repeating over and over”—she visibly shudders—“and then I woke up with this crappy headache.” 

You give her a smile and tip your chin at the high stool right by the counter. “Take a seat. I’ll make more,” you offer her, which she accepts with a smile. 

Neither of you says a word for a moment, only breaking the silence once you are done pouring the hot drinks into two separate mugs and handing one to her while whispering, “Here you go,” to which she responds with a soft, sleepy murmur, “Thank you.” 

Taking the seat on one end of the counter with Alia sitting on the other, silence stretches between the two of you once again. There is an awkward tension in the air. You cannot remember when you have ever found yourself alone with Alia like this, deep in the night and with nothing else to do but to talk. Not since those many years ago when you were children. 

You remember how your parents made you share the same bedroom. It was their way of getting you to bond with your new stepsister at the time. Even then, you could tell that Alia wasn’t exactly thrilled by it, already so used to having her own bedroom before she had to split her time between spending the weekdays with her mother and then with her father on the weekends. 

But at least back then, the silence didn’t feel as stifling. And she had let you borrow her personal things to play with, as long as you got out of her way. And that included her books—so many of them, you remember—with her occasionally sitting right beside you so she could read you some of the hard ones to follow for a little child.  

Taking a sip of your hot cocoa, you decide that you have had enough of this silence. “So—” you breathe out a sigh. “You and Taehyung.” 

Alia groans and closes her eyes. “You heard me last night, didn’t you? I know I was drunk off my ass, but it’s true,” she says, scoffing as she glances sideways and meets your gaze when you do the same, “It’s stupid, I know.” 

You sip your drink before asking, “Why did you have to go make an entire scheme out of this?” 

“I don’t know,” she breathes out an exhausted sigh. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.” Her voice sounds wistful when she says this, and then she breaks out into a bitter chuckle. “But I guess, just like a ton of other bad decisions I’ve made my entire life, it only added to the long list of fuck-ups that have tainted most of my adult life.” 

You let out a snort, something that is so uncharacteristically you, but still comes out with all honesty. “At least you’re taking accountability of it,” you say to her almost teasingly, “I know some people who wouldn’t even admit that they fucked up and simply move on while everyone had to pick up the mess they left behind.”  

Alia laughs. You can see her eyes warming up. “When did you meet him? How did it all happen?” 

Your lips curl up to a smile. You drink your hot drink slowly before you begin telling her everything—the trip that you went to after your breakup, the frustrating debacle with your flight getting delayed and cancelled and meeting him at transit, the hookup, everything that you already shared with Skye the first time you revealed about your first promiscuous night abroad with the stranger, the agreement you both made about shedding your identities, which had lead to this whole mess, and more.

Surprisingly enough, Alia merely responds with a soft chuckle. As if this is something that is to be expected when it involves her friend. “That explains it,” she muses softly. She has this faraway look in her eyes for a moment, as if recalling something in the past—perhaps something that happened during that period of time. 

“He was going through some stuff when we got in contact again about a year after the last time we met. We lost contact again briefly during that time”—the time he went to take that trip, you tell yourself—”I think he said he was off to some sort of a business trip and was using it to ‘escape’ from everything. He never told me any of the details, though.” 

You are curious, wanting to know more. But you also know that it isn’t your place to pry. You can also tell that Alia may not answer if you try to ask her. Yet she then surprises you by adding, “Then he contacted me not too long ago and said something about needing my help. I thought it was a wild coincidence and decided to use the chance to get him to help me in return. One thing lead to another, and here we are now.” 

You both share a laugh, despite how pitiful the two of you seem at this moment.  

When you both grow quiet once more, each of you taking the moment to savour your drink and the silence that is starting to bring more comfort than the uneasiness you felt earlier, your mind wanders. You recall the events that have been happening for the past few days, to tonight, seeing everything with a new light now that the truth has come out. You also find that you no longer feel the weight of your secret shadowing you, allowing you to breathe easier. 

And then the conversation you had with Skye on the phone from a while ago comes back to you. 

“I’m sorry I broke your doll,” you suddenly blurt out, while Alia snaps her head to look over to you. 

“What? Which doll?” she asks, her face is filled with incomprehension, before her expression shifts into knowing, and then to shock. “Oh, that one? That was a long time ago!” 

You laugh at her reaction. “Yeah, but it feels like you started resenting me since then.” 

“No, I’m—” she shakes her head and scoffs at you. “It’s actually fine. I hated that doll. That was the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever owned when I was a kid.” 

“What—?”  you let out an incredulous laugh. “But you made it look like I’ve ruined your entire world. All hell broke loose because of it so I thought—” 

Alia laughs, though she also looks somewhat guilty when she explains everything to you. “One of Dad’s ex-girlfriends bought it for me on my eighth birthday. I never liked any of the women he brought home and introduced me, but she was probably the sanest and most normal one of all,” she calmly tells you, quickly adding, “That was before your Mom came in, by the way.” 

That makes you smile. Especially when you notice that her eyes are filled with fondness as she talks about your mother. 

“Anyway, she gave me the doll as a gift after she went for a trip abroad, and maybe I did like it because it made me happy to know that she thought about me. But the older I got, the weirder it felt for me to keep it, but every time I wanted to get rid of the doll, it made me feel guilty for even considering it because of how sweet she was to me,” she winces as she recalls the past. “When you ruined the doll, I was actually relieved. But I couldn’t show it to Dad since he thought I loved the doll so much that he even went out on his way to help take care of the doll for a long time, so I made it seem like losing the doll made me sad.” 

Your jaw drops and you laugh again. “Damn, I can’t believe I was gaslighted and framed by a twelve year-old.” 

“Sucks to be you,” Alia laughs back at you as she sips her drink. “Sorry for causing you some childhood trauma or whatever.” 

“It wasn’t so much of a trauma,” you say to her while scoffing. But that incident did leave an impression on you, regardless. And it wasn’t a good one. Looking back on it now, it does seem ridiculous for you to let it haunt your memories for so long. 

You are just about to share your thoughts to Alia when she finally speaks again. 

“On your eleventh birthday, you started calling him Dad,” she says, her voice dull, but you can feel the weight of her words when you hear them. It takes a moment for it to sink in, until you finally realise— 

“Oh—” Oh. You swallow hard and take a deep breath, realising that she is talking about Cliff. “Did you, uh—were you worried that I might take him away from you?” 

Alia smiles bitterly. “I’m not sure. Maybe?” She shrugs. “As a kid, I may have harboured an unrealistic fantasy that one day, my Mom and Dad would make up, get back together, and everything would be back to how it used to be.” 

She looks at you with a small smile. “But then Daddy met your Mom, and my Mom became more unhinged after the divorce and dealing with the consequences of her affair that it was becoming more obvious Dad would have never taken her back, no matter what.” 

The more she speaks, sharing her deep, darkest secret, the more you are able to understand her. For all these years, you simply thought that Alia has resented you for childish reasons. You never knew that she had nurtured the heartbreak of an innocent child for so many years. Silently hurting without anyone else knowing. 

“But it was the day you began calling him Dad that finally broke me out of that fantasy and forced me to accept that they were never going back together,” she says, sighing deeply with a broken smile on her face, which only deepens the guilt that you feel for becoming a part of it. “Maybe—that was the moment I started seeing you differently.” 

“I—didn’t know,” you murmur, and then you begin to recall how Alia kept avoiding to spend time with her father on the weekends when she was a teenager. “You started to come by less and less by then.” 

Your parents had excused Alia’s absence at the time as her newfound need of being independent. But you know better now. 

Alia releases a sigh, as if opening to you is helping her relief some of her own weight. “Dad was so happy because you and your family welcomed him into your lives. I guess that was really important to him. The more I watched him having a new family that was a whole, the more I resented it. Seeing you with Daddy—” she stops with a sharp intake of breath, “I guess the child in me felt like I was being replaced and I couldn’t take it.” 

“Alia—” 

She cuts you off with one look, with a gaze that is surprisingly warm. “You know what’s worse?” she asks. 

“The way Dad keeps bragging about you in front of me and anyone from his side of the family whenever he has the chance to. You have always been smarter, you’ve gained everything you wanted in life with your own effort. You have a good job, a nice apartment and, for a time, you had a long-time boyfriend, while I’m still floating through life,” she says with a wistful tone of voice instead of a bitter one. “I have no steady job, and I’m still moving around instead of settling down, which left me with no chance to start any serious relationship to brag about in front of everyone. So I suppose that makes me feel inferior when I have to face you.” 

You have no idea what to say. Because you had no idea about any of this. Still, you feel guilty, even if none of this was your fault when all you ever did was live your life the way you wanted it to. 

“Last year, I think that’s when I came to my limit,” Alia adds with a chuckle. “I guess somewhere in my mind, I had this thought that since you already stole my Dad, maybe I could steal something that was yours for a change.” 

Once again, your jaw drops. You let out a gasp. “Hey, that’s fucked up!” 

She laughs at your reaction. “I know! And I’m sorry, alright?” she says, still laughing and lifting both of her hands at you. But she quickly sobers up, looking genuinely concerned when she asks, “Seriously, though. Did you break up—” 

You quickly shake your head. “No. He chose his career over our relationship,” you admit to her. “He has always been like that. He’s always so crazy about work, a perfectionist, and not only does he have a big ego, he also has big ambitions. I think he pushed me to match his pace, whether he realised it or not, which became the reason why I managed to gained everything I have now.” 

Looking back, you have to admit that your ex was the one who gave you the drive which helped you get where you are now. As much as you hate to admit it, you do owe him that much for your current life, despite everything. 

“In a way, he pushed and motivated me to constantly be a better version of myself. But, deep down, I was starting to get tired of it.” You recall all the fights, the arguments, the agony that you felt when he belittled you for your need to start going in your own pace instead of following his. “I never realised how exhausting it was with him until we broke up. He made me feel like I was on a race against him instead of in a relationship where we were both equals in life.” 

Alia slowly nods her head with a silent understanding. “What happened last year with your ex was also the reason why I asked Taehyung to come with me,” she confesses with a shy smile.

“I felt so bad for everything that happened, and I had no idea how to fix it. I thought that if I brought someone with me this year, not only would I be able to shut my Mom up about trying to hook me up with some snobby guy from her circle and pushing me into marriage”—she rolls her eyes—”I would also be able to show everyone here, and you, that I had no desire to steal your boyfriend from you.” 

You grin at her. “That explains why it was shocking for you to find out that I already broke up.” 

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “That thwarted all of my plans.” You laugh together while she continues to complain about it. How she had meticulously planned everything to clear her reputation and avoid adding more drama between you.  

“But I couldn’t give up the gig. I know that Dad still keeps in touch with my Mom once in a while because of me, and she would call him to check on me if she’d heard I was coming, so if I let everyone know that Taehyung and I aren’t actually dating, my Mom would sit me down next to any bachelor of the year that she had chosen for me at the family gathering with just a snap of her fingers,” she sneers, lifting her hand to snap her fingers in the same manner that you imagine her mother would do. 

“And, as always, I had to mess everything up too because of my stupid plans,” she heavily sighs. “Sorry, by the way.” 

Scoffing lightly, you simply wave her off. “It’s not your fault. If only Taehyung and I had talked when we had the chance,” you finally admit, realising that you are also to blame for avoiding to speak to him right away, “Or if he had told you about me when I asked him to, then maybe the three of us could have figured something out.” 

Alia nods her head in agreement, and then her lips rise to a slow smile. “I didn’t expect that Honey would be the one stirring the pot when it was already boiling.” 

That makes you laugh again. “Honestly? I had expected that Honey would be the first to notice. I just didn’t expect her to blast me right in front of the whole family.” 

Sipping her hot cocoa slowly, Alia hums. “Maybe it was meant to work that way. Or else, I feel like neither of us would find any chance to spill out the truth, as bitter and ridiculous it might sound to admit,” she says, and you cannot help but agree with her. Even with no resolution have yet to be made, you can feel some of the weight of your troubles being lifted from you. 

Everything may have gone messy, yet for some reason, the future doesn’t seem so bleak when you are looking at it one last time. Then Alia gently adds, further encouraging the hope that is slowly blooming inside you. 

“Taehyung—he won’t be joining me to see my Mom. He’s driving back home, either in the morning or before noon, I’m not sure. You should go see him and talk.” 

“I—” you swallow hard. “I want to. We do need to talk, but—” 

Alia stops you by shaking her head. “No buts. You have a baby on the way, and I’m sure—seeing his reaction last night—he would want to be a part of it. Only if you’d let him.” 

That immediately shuts you up, taking away all the excuses that you have to run away and avoid facing him. You still remember seeing the way he was clutching your sonogram possessively as if it was his lifeline, and you have yet to get the sonogram back from him when he left. 

“Even without the baby—” Alia continues, noticing how you are still deep in your thoughts. “The favour that I mentioned? I think it might have something to do with you. I’m not sure what it was though, because he hasn’t had the chance to say anything about it. He only said that it had something to do with what happened during his trip from that time.” 

You know that she is right. The only problem is mustering the courage to go and see him in person. After what your family had put him through last night, you have no idea how to face him, feeling too guilty that he got roped into so much mess because you couldn’t tell him the truth when you had the chance.

“Well, while you take your time considering it, I should go back to my room. I have another Christmas event that I would need to mentally prepare to,” Alia says as she steps out of her seat. You watch her walking around the counter to put away her empty mug before smiling at you. “Thanks for the nice chat, and the hot chocolate.”

You return her smile and nod. “So—are we good?” 

That makes her chuckle. She stops before going out into the hall and shrugs. “Yeah, you’re okay. I guess we are.” 

“Does that mean we’re friends now?” you tease her, drawing a scoff from her. 

“Ugh—don’t push your luck, kid. Don’t even think about us being sisters,” she says, pointing at you. 

“Never would’ve dreamed of it,” you respond with a chuckle. Still, you are overcome with relief now that the old tension between you are lifted. “Good luck with your Mom.” 

“Thanks. Good luck with—” she says, “well, everything.” She turns away, but not before giving you one final warning, “I’m serious. Go talk to him. Don’t worry about the others, or about how Daddy would react. I’ll hold down the fort and explain everything to them until you’re back.” 

Your grip on the steering wheel tightens just as your stomach tightens with churning doubt. 

The thought of seeing Taehyung, alone, seems nerve-racking. You have no idea what to expect once you get there, or what you are going to say, which only makes you even more nervous the further you are getting from home. 

Your thoughts are filled with worrying that things may not go as planned. Not that you really had any plan to go with other than to talk to him, stop him from leaving, and maybe find out what the future hold—if there is any hope there. 

The weather outside seems dreary, which is no help at all. Even under the winter sunlight that appears brighter than usual, the snow keeps falling thickly from the sky, the trees standing on either side of the streets are swaying dangerously towards various directions due to the intense wind. 

Weather does hate me, you wonder to yourself as you glance through the side mirror, wondering why these things keep happening to you during critical times such as this one.

Getting more impatient, the urge to press down on the accelerator feels so strong, yet you fight it the best you can, recalling the promise you made when you stepped out of the house. 

Honey was right, it was a bad idea to be driving out under this weather. She was the one who warned you about the weather when you were about to leave, which you simply ignored because the sky was bright, the wind was steady, and your intention to see Taehyung was strong. 

You should have learned from experience and took your time checking today’s weather forecast to find out just how quickly the weather could change. 

Looking at the fierce weather, it seems obvious that things are about to get even worse. A white jeep breezes past your tiny city car, causing your car to sway, and you feel a pull to match its speed. But then you see it nearly slipping on the road as the jeep makes a turn right ahead, and you heart stops. Your car slows as you start hearing Honey’s voice warning you about how easy the road becomes slippery on days like this. 

“Drive carefully. Even if you want to risk your life getting out there, at least think about that baby,” Honey’s voice echoes in your head, stopping you before you could even think of picking up speed again once the road clears up before you. 

“There’s nothing to worry about. With this weather, he couldn’t have left yet,” you convince yourself, though your doubt keeps pushing back nearly tenfold. 

He couldn’t just leave, right? 

Turning with reduced speed on the next intersection, you curse under your breath. It feels like it’s taking you forever to reach the motel, and when you still see no sign of getting any closer to the motel, you begin to wonder if you’ll manage to get there at all. 

“Damn it, Alia. Why did you have to choose that motel? There’s a bunch of them closer to home.” 

Obviously, there is nobody here to answer your question. So the only thing that you can do is to force yourself to calm down, focus on the road—and in not slipping or sending your car into a ditch—and find the motel as fast—and as safely—as you can. 

Quiet Peaks Motel. Room 1109. 

You almost laughed when Alia gave you the room number where Taehyung has been staying in. The irony of having those numbers shown to your face, reminding you of that night from six weeks ago. 

“I suppose this is what people call a Christmas miracle.” 

You let out a scoff as Skye’s words ring back to you. Christmas miracle my butt, you inwardly scoff at the notion. A queer coincidence, that’s what this is. 

Not too long, you are driving your car into the small parking lot of Quiet Peaks Motel. With your head covered under the hood of your coat, you challenge the cold to rush into the motel without taking a look around to see if his car is still here. Past the receptionist desk, you follow Alia’s guide to find Taehyung’s room. 

Room 1109. 

Shaking off the snow that has gotten all over your body, you take a deep breath, and knock on the door. A few seconds pass. 

No answer. 

Another knock, just a bit harder this time. And all you have in return is silence. No. No. No—

You raise your hand again, ready to give it another try while refusing to accept the possibility that he is no longer there, when finally—finally—you hear a click, and the door slowly opens. Taehyung appears before you, with wide, curious eyes and a smile slowly lifting on his lips, like a piece of a fantasy manifesting into something real. 

“You’re still here,” you breathe a sigh of relief, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest as he hovers by the doorway, the small smile on his face unwavering. “Alia called. Warned me not to run away,” he gently says.

The thought of him driving off to leave town, running away before you could see him, feels like a bolt piercing through your heart. “Were you—trying to run?” 

“I felt the urge to,” he admit while lowering his gaze, briefly avoiding your eyes. “But I couldn’t.” 

You can hear the sound of your heartbeat. “Because of the blizzard happening outside?” 

Taehyung looks up, and his smile deepens when he steps aside. “Why don’t you come in? It’s getting colder. You can warm up inside.” There is a playful glint in his eyes which says the unspoken words—

With me. 

Drawn by the look in his eyes, your legs begin to move on their own. Your arm brushes against him as you walk past him, just barely, and your skin prickles warmly, as if the thick winter coat that you are wearing is nonexistent.  

Taehyung takes your coat, shaking the remaining snow that is still attached to it before hanging it on the coat rack by the door while you step out of your snow-coated boots, refusing to leave trails of snow and dirt on his floor as he pulls you inside. He guides you to take a seat on the edge of the bed while he takes the one-seater from the corner of the room and places it across from you. 

Sitting back, he wears a playful smile on his face. He seems giddy, with a twinge of wariness that is quite noticeable coming out of him—both feelings are something that you also share as you sit with your back straightened while your legs are shaking.

Sitting here like this allows you to get a good look at Taehyung. And for the first time, you notice the boyish charm in him that looks—adorable. You can see it better when he smiles, when he looks at you with an expectant look in his yes, and when he doesn’t seem to be able to remain calm. 

You have no idea why you had never seen this side of him before. Has he been hiding this part of him? Because, if you want to be honest with yourself, you like seeing this side of Taehyung, maybe even more than the side that he has allowed you to see before today. 

If comfort is a person, this side of him fits the picture, you wonder to yourself with a smile. 

Speaking of pictures—

Your eyes travel around the room, taking notice of the place where he has been staying at. The room is undoubtedly smaller than the suite that he booked back at the transit hotel, but not any smaller than your own bedroom back home. The bed that you are sitting on feels soft, with wooden bed frames that makes it seem sturdy. There is a single vanity table that stretches out on one wall, also functioning as a writing desk, an electric fireplace in the corner that is running with a soft hum, and a wall-mounted television that has been kept on with its volume lowered to fill the room with its white noise. 

Your eyes fall on the long table, on the small object that catches your attention.

“Would you like to drink?” Taehyung asks you as the silence stretches out for too long, and you look at him with a smile. 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

Nodding, he rises from his seat to grab a drink from the corner cabinet, while you do the same. Drawn towards the small object that Taehyung had placed on the table like a precious jewel—your sonogram. 

“I didn’t mean to keep it with me. But throughout all the chaos happening last night—” you can hear his voice getting closer and closer, yet you do nothing to look his way. Holding up the sonogram between your fingers, your eyes are focused completely on it, fixated at the clear proof of your future. You still have your eyes on it as his warmth comes pressing on your back, his voice feels like a gentle brush on your skin as he whispers close—

“—I just couldn’t let it go. It felt surreal whenever I looked at it. It was almost as if—I was actually holding that baby in my hands, and I needed to protect it.” 

His words send your mind into a daze, even when you notice the tremble in his voice. Everything he does next seems like parts of a dream. You notice his hand reaching out beside you, placing two objects which seem to be bottles of fresh juice on top of the table. And his hand stays there, palm pressing on the edge of the desk while his other hand is resting on your other side, practically caging you in place. 

Slowly, you turn around to face him. The sudden closeness makes you feel dizzy, yet the feeling is incomparable to the way your body is reacting when you look into his eyes. 

His dark eyes somehow appear even darker from up close. You feel nothing carnal in the way he is looking at you, nor the way he is giving you no chance to escape. But there is the heat that you feel reaching out to you, vibrating through his chest together with his heavy breath. 

“We are—” he murmurs, stopping briefly with a deep exhale of breath. “We’re expecting a baby.” He speaks as if he is trying to rewire his brain into accepting reality.

Your heart starts racing when you hear his words. 

We. That word seals everything in. 

And you can feel that sense of acceptance coming from him. You can easily see it written all over his face; in his gaze that looks resolved and in his warm smile that seems inviting. And then you get to see it coming together when he takes you in, his eyes landing on your belly. Even though covered under your thick sweater, he looks at you as if he can see what is hidden underneath. 

“We’re expecting a baby,” you whisper with a smile. “It’s still early. Very early. Which is why you might not see any changes, like seeing the baby in its fully grown form, or find out the gender yet, but we can already hear the heartbeat. We can arrange so you can join me on my next appointment with the doctor. That is, if you’d like.”

Putting all of your hopes into words feels risky. But thinking about him being there puts a smile on your face. That smile fades for a brief moment when you realise that you are also putting your heart at risk of being broken—be it from him, or from life. 

“Anything could still happen,” you add with a wry smile. The sceptical part of you slowly sneaking its way into your mind to take control. “But if you’re willing to go through this with me and—” 

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence when he suddenly reaches out to touch you. He brushes your cheek with the gentle touch of his fingers, and wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you gently to him until you are nearly pressed into his chest. You bring your palms up to his chest in reflex, pressing against him as a barrier, separating you from his overwhelming warmth. 

You can feel his heartbeat picking up under your palms, just as your own heartbeat starts thundering inside your chest. 

“Last night, Cliff stole my chance to figure out or express how I felt about this,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I was in so much shock both from the news and then Cliff’s reaction that I couldn’t say a word about it. But the moment I left your home and spent the night alone in this room, I finally got the chance to process everything.”

He stops, shaking his head before pressing his lips on your temple. “Still, I can’t believe that this is happening. But this is our new reality right now and I have to face it. No matter at what cost,” he whispers with his lips hovering against your temple.

“What—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’m all in,” he says, pulling back so he can look at you. “I told you, didn’t I? You never really left my mind after that night. I’m not sure why, but waking up in the morning to see you gone back then got me curious and, well—” he chuckles. “It was all the reason why I got roped into Alia’s sneaky scheme, which I’m beginning to regret ever being a part of, but since we’re here anyway.” 

Taehyung lets out a dramatic sigh, drawing a curious smile to your face. 

His chest rises and falls as he exhales a deep breath. “Alia promised to help me once we’ve done the deal. And although I never told her specifically what I needed help with—” he grins, looking as if he is thinking back to the day he planned out this whole scheme with your stepsister. 

A scheme where he pretended to be dating her to trick your and Alia’s family. 

“Actually, I was already trying to find you. Alia has a lot of connections, gathered by traveling to different places and jumping between odd jobs, so I thought that maybe she would know how to solve that problem of mine,” he admits, and your skin flushes warmly when you realise that not only has he been thinking of you this whole time, but he had also thought of looking for you when you thought that he would have simply forgotten everything and moved on. 

“Things may have gone differently than I imagined, and not entirely in the right order. But technically speaking, she made it happen, just as promised,” he chuckles again, looking just amused at the situation as you are. “If I had known about the baby, I wouldn’t have asked you to hide from Alia that we got together at one point,” he grimaces. “I wasn’t sure what kind of situation Alia was in that would require her having a fake boyfriend, so I don’t know what telling her that we hooked up would do.” 

Frowning, you simply shake your head and murmur, “No, I should’ve told you right away. But like I said, I wasn’t prepared to see my baby’s daddy coming into my parents’ home holding hands with my stepsister.” 

Taehyung smiles and rubs his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

Your body shudders under his touch, but you cover it with a sigh. “Likewise,” you whisper. “But can we please stop talking about Alia right now?” 

He barks out a laugh. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he says with a wide grin on his face. “Maybe you’ll be more interested in talking about something else, then?” 

You suck a deep breath as his eyes bore into yours. Even before he says it, you can somehow tell what he is thinking. There is something in his eyes that makes you feel hot inside. Something that feels intimidating, yet comforting at the same time, and it makes you want to dive into whatever it is that is offering you. 

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung starts staring at you the same way he did that night—with the same passion and hunger that are enough to engulf you as a whole. 

While you are captivated with his gaze, Taehyung leans in, stealing a kiss from your lips before you realise what is happening. He begins with a gentle, tentative kiss, as if he is testing to see how you are going to react. But with your emotion heightened, and relief warming your chest, the innocent kiss that he is giving you is already enough to send heat flushing through your body.

Your fingers sink into his sweater in a desperate clutch as you return his kiss, pressing your mouth onto his without any inhibitions. A sigh escapes from your throat, while he releases a deep grunt and begins to deepen the kiss. 

His tongue presses between the seams of your lips, penetrating into your mouth in seek of control. All the heat inside you starts swirling violently as he devours your lips, and it’s driving you crazy. Your thundering heartbeat presses against your chest and he keeps stealing your breath, leaving you gasping the moment he releases your lips. 

Yet Taehyung doesn’t stop. Giving you a few more pecks on your swollen lips, he then moves his kisses down the column of your throat, and your head falls back in an instant, helping him to travel lower until he rests his lips beneath your earlobe where he breathes out a sigh.  

“This wasn’t—” you gasp as he nips at your pulse, rocking your entire body at the touch of his teeth on your skin, “This wasn’t the reason why I came here for.” 

“Are you sure?” he hums against your skin. “We can stop if you want to. But you have to be the one to say the words.” His words make you swoon, but contrary to what he is saying to you, Taehyung continues to press his lips on your skin, making it hard for you to say a thing. “It’s been pure torture having to hold back, being in the same room with you but unable to do anything about it.” 

He leans back, looking at you with a deep gaze as he brushes his thumb across your swollen lips. “I kept seeing these lips and wishing I could kiss it.” 

Silently admitting that you feel the same way for him, your eyes move to his lips, noticing its swell, the faint crimson shade and the moisture that are left there after kissing you, and hazily blurt out, “Did you kiss Alia with that same mouth?”

“Fuck, no!” he says, making you laugh when he seems horrified at the thought of kissing your stepsister. “We’re friends, but not that close as friends to be smooching at each other.” 

The way he is scrunching his nose still makes you giggle. “Sorry, but—you know, I had to make sure.”

Taehyung snorts. “Of course you do,” he grumbles, although the mirth in his eyes turns, as he gives you an understanding look through them, now knowing what kind of relationship that you share with Alia. “There are a lot of things about your stepsister that you might not know about.” 

His words remind you of the short conversation that you had with your stepsister this morning. Deep down, you realise that he is right. With so many years spent harbouring a deep misunderstanding between one another, you realise that you never really knew her at all. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself that you can revisit this later. 

“Are you going to spend the rest of the day trying to butter me up so I can start being best friends with my stepsister, or are you going to kiss me again?” you question him with a grin on your face once you open your eyes again. 

He returns your grin with his own, showing you that same boyish charm that makes you swoon as he murmurs, “I think I like the second option a lot better.” 

Giggling, you release your grip on his sweater and move to wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him halfway just as he leans down to capture your lips again. “An excellent choice, Sir. I do like that option much better as well.”

Once his lips descend on yours once again, they don’t come down gently. They crash into yours, and you can feel his urgency, his hunger, everything that he had spent days withholding for the sake of the god-awful scheme. The kiss melts every cell in your body. It weakens your knees, leaving your arms as the only thing holding you up against him. 

His hands feel hot on your skin as he runs them down your waist, your hips, the heat penetrating through your thick sweater and jeans. You instinctively arch your chest against his, while your legs are moving, rubbing against each other when his touch sends your pulse rising, hot blood flowing down right between your legs. 

Fuck, why I am so sensitive? 

Right as you are wondering if your pregnancy has anything to do with the way your body is reacting, Taehyung folds his body and grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up. 

“Oh, God—” you pull away with a gasp, surprised with the sudden lost of balance. Tightening your arms around his neck, you hold on to him as he turns. His smile widens, looking as if he is proud of himself, and then he drops you onto the bed, gentle as he puts you down until you are lying on your back. 

You shift backwards until you are at the center of the bed with him following close behind. His gaze remains on your face as he starts crawling over the mattress, not stopping until he is hovering above you. He doesn’t settle his weight on top of you right away, but instead grabs a gentle hold at the hem of your sweater. With a quick work of his hands, the sweater is gone, tossed somewhere across the room. He doesn’t let you see where it went as he bends down, hovering close above you.  

“Doesn’t this make you think back about that night?” he asks, with a deep voice that has your entire body trembling. He ignites more reaction out of you with a gentle kiss at the crook of your neck. 

“Something is”—you gasp, shuddering under his kiss—“something is different, though.” 

His warm breath comes brushing on your skin with his deep chuckle. “You can tell, huh? I did some workout after that vacation,” he brags to you while wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh. 

“I’d say you may have gotten your money’s worth. A little bit,” you tease him as you reach down between your bodies for his zipper. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your palm. Even while hidden under his pants, you can feel the heat coming from him as you rub your palm against his covered bulge, moving it back and forth until you feel him hardening under your touch. 

“Are you going to continue staring at me, or are you going to fuck me?” you whisper, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with how much you need him. 

And he is the only one to blame. When his sole existence stirs your every being. With one glance coming from his eyes, butterfly wings flutter inside your body, touching all the crevices that aren’t filled with past hurt and the baby’s presence and filling them with warmth. 

With one touch, your whole body comes alight, and you are feeling it now as he brushes his fingers along the expanse of your waist. As tough your blood is on fire as it runs through your veins, even with nothing more but a light graze on your skin. 

Taehyung licks his lips. His desire is written so clearly on his face. But then his gaze moves down your body, lingering on your stomach that is completely exposed now that you no longer have your sweater covering your skin. 

“Will it be okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned. His voice sounds tight, filled with worries, which gives your chest a tight pinch. 

When was the last time you had someone—other than your family—to be so concerned about your wellbeing? Granted, there is a baby that is involved in all of this, and it would be normal for him to care, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like he is seeing right through you. 

“I think I read somewhere that the baby will be okay,” you look down at your stomach and start rubbing your hand gently over it. “Maybe we can go gentle. At least until we get to see the OB and ask more.” 

“Good idea,” he says with a smile, while you feel soft inside. But when his hand begins to move again, his thumb grazing down your exposed stomach, the heat rises back up and he is back in the game. 

His smouldering gaze feels like a complete opposite to the softness in his voice when he says, “Alright, I can do gentle. Just tell me if it gets too much, or you can lead the pace so I won’t make any mistake.” 

He wears the same wicked smile that stole your heart many nights ago as he lifts off from your body. You watch with your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as he begins stripping himself. His sweater comes off, showing you his hard chest and filled arms which you haven’t had the chance to appreciate in the past. 

This time, you get to see everything with a clear mind. Instead of feeling hazy with intoxication, all you can feel now is the haze coming from your need for him.  

Reaching down to his pants, he pushes down his zipper. With a mocking grin, he makes a great gesture of pushing down his pants, only to stop once he hears your moan. 

“God, I missed hearing that sound coming out of your lips,“ he murmurs. He immediately returns to you and pushes your pants and panties down in one motion. Your bra comes off right before your butt comes back down on the bed. Having not an inch of your skin covered while you are lying there makes you feel exposed and vulnerable. Yet he keeps a gentle hold on your waist, holding you still while he takes you in. 

“I remember thinking that you were beautiful, but it beats seeing you in this kind of light to see what I didn’t get to see,” he murmurs, almost groaning as he takes you in. 

Licking your lips, you hold back, keeping your voice from trembling to answer, “We were both kinda drunk, so—” 

“Were we?” he chuckles softly and returns to you again, as if he can’t take being apart from you for too long. He presses his lips on your collarbone and whispers, “Good thing we get the chance to change that.” 

Your legs come up and wrap around his waist the moment he is back on top of you. The way his hard chest is pressing on your bare breasts feels heavenly. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, almost at the same rhythm as yours. But your attention is quickly drawn away once you try to move your hips to get comfortable beneath his weight, only to unintentionally rub yourself against his body.

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh as you brush against him. Heat pools right at the depth of your core once you feel just how badly he wants you. It grows more intense as he pushes back into you, rubbing his covered cock against your center until you feel your wet arousal soiling the front of his pants. 

Yet still, the friction isn’t enough to satiate your needs. 

“Taehyung—” 

The moment he hears you calling his name—his real name—something dark and feral flashes through his gaze. As if saying his name in the heat of desire snaps something inside him that needs to be unleashed. 

His mouth comes down to capture yours just then, claiming you with a deep kiss. You writhe beneath him while he devours your lips, pressing against his center in a silent plea to have him striping himself off of the restricting pants and letting you feel him. 

Without saying a word, he understands what you are asking for and complies. With a reluctant sigh, he pulls back. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time as he pushes down his pants and boxer briefs until he is completely bare. His hard cock immediately springs free right before your eyes, drawing your attention towards it the same way it did the first night you were with him. 

“Say it again,” he says to you with a deep voice. A rough sigh escapes him as he wraps his hand around his girth and starts stroking himself, making himself hard and ready while he pleads with you, “Say my name.” 

“Taehyung,” you call him with a soft moan, and he lets go every last bit of his restrictions and covers your whole body with his. 

His mouth crashes down on yours, kissing you passionately until your body grows hot. A moan slips from you, and his tongue sweeps in between your parted lips, getting entangled with yours and you are immediately lost. You barely notice it when his hand moves down, slipping between your bodies to find the source of your heat. 

He flicks at your nether lips, drawing a gasp from your lips, and your hips rise up to welcome him. Then he slides a finger into your pulsing core, entering you until you are arching against his chest, overwhelmed with the sensation that he draws out of your body as he buries his finger deeper into your pussy. 

While he slides his finger in and out of you, his mouth remains pressed on yours, swallowing every sound you are making. Drowning every cries, every moans, while he continues devouring you as though you are his lifeline. 

The pleasure rises, and your body starts moving on its own before you can control it. You start grinding against his finger, needing more. It starts with a slow rock, but the more the pleasure climbs within your body, you continue grinding harder and harder onto his hand. This seems to amuse him, as you can feel his smile growing against his lips before he pulls away, freeing you from his searing kiss. 

Yet his hand continues to move, not resting until you can finally find release. “That’s it, ______. Give it to me, baby. Come for me,” he whispers with his deep voice like a spell. 

Under his encouraging words and his relentless strokes, you finally reach your orgasm. It feels so intense you can almost feel as if your body shatters in his hold, with your breath coming out in broken pants and your moans rising higher. 

With a gentle move, he pulls his finger out of you, leaving behind a series of small spasms inside your pussy from the climax. 

You immediately feel empty. But he doesn’t make you wait long as he positions himself between your parted legs, and his heavy hard-on comes right where his finger had been. His cock slides in between your slit, moving back and forth as he rocks his hips. The friction draws the slick sound of your release as he continues rubbing the entire length of his cock against your hot cunt. 

As your body continues to shudder beneath him, Taehyung lets out a deep groan. “Can’t wait, baby. Need to be inside you now.” 

“Yes, fuck me, Taehyung,” you cry out, and those exact words are the ones that draw him to move. 

You should have been prepared for it, yet your mind and body are somewhat occupied. Distracted by the blinding pleasure that he keeps pulling out of you, you are not ready when he slams his cock into you. You instantly cry out, and Taehyung stills inside you. 

You can feel your muscles clenching, pulsing around him in small spasms of pleasure at the sudden invasion. It draws a moan out of him, and he holds you in his arms to help soothe you through it until you are more accustomed to his width filling you up. 

“You okay, baby? I’m sorry,” he whispers with his lips pressing gently on your skin. Starting from your neck, your chin, and then he keeps making his way up to capture your parted lips. His kiss is soft, barely a flutter, but with every pulse rising in your body, you can feel the heat shooting right into your core. 

You wait just long enough until the pounding sound of your heartbeat eases before answering him, “I’m okay.” 

You start to wiggle under his weight, moving your hips to test if it’s going to hurt. When you feel that your muscles are no longer tense, and nothing but pleasure rushes through your body, you start moving your hips more. Grinding down his length, you can feel your hot walls contracting around his thick cock. It draws a sharp hiss out of his lips, and he jerks his hips against you, as though he is close to losing control. 

“Are you going to stay there the entire time we’re here”—you tease him while tightening your legs around his waist, your hands on his hard shoulders—”or are you going to fuck me?”  

Taehyung lets out a deep chuckle and begins to move. “So impatient. It’s been a while, so I’m only letting you act like a brat just this once,” he growls against your lips as he rocks his hips, moving in a slow pace. 

It feels so good. But you want more. You need more. 

With your heels pressing on his back, you rock back against him, grinding into his cock. He reacts with a groan, murmuring to you, “Fuck, that feels good. You want more?” 

The pleasure continues climbing. It starts to feel overwhelming that words fail you. The only thing you can give him is a nod. A sharp gasp comes out of your lips when he starts picking up his pace, going faster while pushing deeper with each thrust. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he nearly begs, sounding desperate when you have yet to give him words in response to him. “Please, baby. Promise me. I’m barely holding on here, but I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.” 

His voice goes in and out of your senses, yet you still manage to hear what he is trying to say. “I’m fine, Taehyung. I won’t hide it, I promise.” 

He lets out a relieved sigh and smashes his lips on yours. “Good,” he groans against your lips. “Hang on tight then, baby.” 

Those words become the last warning as the force and speed of his thrusts escalate, hitting you deep and hard until your toes are curling and your throat feels tight with the urge to cry out in pleasure. Your chest rises in an arch at the sensations you are getting as your hard nipples are rubbing against his chest. 

But your mind is clear enough for you to do exactly what he asked of you. 

Your legs are pressing around him, not tight enough to make it hard for him to move, but enough to keep you attached to him. Your arms are around him, fingers running up to the nape of his neck and pulling at the back of his hair, while the other hand runs down his back, nails sinking into his skin as he takes you on a wild ride.  

Pleasure explodes through your body under his hard strokes. Your mouth falls open with a series of strained cries, calling his name. You wish he would lean down, to kiss you, to drown the sounds of pleasure that you are unable to hold in. Yet Taehyung chooses to pull back, allowing himself to keep his eyes on you as he continues with his relentless thrusts, making sure that he wouldn’t miss any sign of pain that may show on your face. 

But the pain that you had expected to come from his rough lovemaking only extends the pleasure. The wet sounds of his thrusts pushing deep inside you fills the room, growing intense by the minute. Your skin flushes warmly as blood pulses deep in your core, your pussy walls flutter around his girth, letting him know how close you are to reach the edge. 

“Are you close, baby? Do you want to come?” he whispers to you with a groan, and you find yourself crying out,

“Yes, Taehyung—I’m close. Please, let me cum. Please—” 

With his hands reaching down your hips, he lifts your bottom half slightly off the mattress, placing you in a new angle that allows him to reach deeper. Your whole body quakes once he finds your sweet spot, and as he repeatedly pushes his cock against that hidden spot inside you, you soon feel him pushing you over the edge, with him not slowing down even for just a moment. And you take it all while you continue clinging desperately to him with your nails sinking into the skin on his back. 

Pleasure flares through you like fireworks. A new wave of raw pleasure overcomes you, and your body erupts with the first wave of your orgasm. It flows smoothly through your body, but still intense enough to knock the air out of your chest. You cry out with a strained voice, your entire body shuddering beneath him. 

You heave as wave after wave of pleasure overcome your body, yet Taehyung shows no sign of stopping. Still not having enough, he still fills you up with long, deep strokes that rock your body and the entire bed together.

With every shake of your body, your nipples grow hard that they start to hurt as your skin keeps rubbing against his chest. Looking between you, Taehyung’s eyes turn darker with lust. You force yourself to watch him through your haze, feeling more than seeing it when he runs one hand down your belly. 

His big palm stays there, as if silently greeting the baby growing inside, before it continues to travel lower, finding home right where your bodies are joined. With his thumb and forefinger, he flicks at your engorged clit. Already throbbing and growing sensitive with the amount of frictions happening all at once, it sends your hips rising as another wave of pleasure rises from your core. 

Deep groans escape his lips as he savours the sight of you embracing the pleasure, and he continues playing with your clit—rubbing, flicking, pinching, drawing pain and pleasure over the constant thrusting of his cock. And just when you are feeling it building up once more from within, the telltale of your orgasm that you have been depraved of for so long, Taehyung leans down, capturing one taut nipple between his mouth and bites down. 

"Oh god. Oh god. I'm going to come again,” you cry out with your hips rising to meet each hard thrust that he is giving you.

“Yes, that’s it. Cum for me like a good girl," he croons against your skin, which sends you straight into the next round of climax while you are still riding the aftershock of your last one.

Your body shudders as another orgasm rocks your entire body, and your muscles clamp around his hard cock, sucking him with a tight clench as he thrusts in and out, pushing deep and sending your body shaking violently as you finally succumb into an earth-shattering orgasm that takes away the last drop of strength that you still have. 

And the force of your final orgasm is what sets him off. 

With a deep groan, and a rough tremble of his chest, Taehyung finally finds his release. You can feel his warmth filling your insides, his cock twitching and pumping between your spasming walls, and you are almost sure that the wicked sensation of him filling you up with his cum is enough to send you to a smaller, much more subtle climax. 

It takes a while for you to come down from the height of your release, and Taehyung is there, helping you to ride off your orgasm with the slow strokes of his cock and the gentle brush of his fingers as he slowly comes to halt. 

Once everything is done, your body is completely spent that you are unable to move. Your legs have turned languid as Taehyung gently drops them back onto the bed. The room is filled with the sound of deep breathing as both of you are fighting to catch your breaths. 

You can barely feel your arms moving, but essentially, he is freed from your tight hold, allowing him to pull out of you before dropping down beside you. 

The room no longer feels cold now that your entire body is burning hot. Seeing the thin sheet of sweat on his skin, you know that Taehyung is feeling the same heat, yet it doesn’t stop him from turning to his side and wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

The sound of your intense heartbeat makes it hard for you to listen to any other sounds. You feel so tired. The lack of sleep you had last night is making it hard for you to fight off the drowsiness that is coming over you. Feeling relieved and sated, you just want to give in to sleep. 

Your eyelids keep growing heavy, and once your breath is calm, you can feel Taehyung’s gentle kiss pressing on your temple. His voice is barely a whisper when he murmurs to you, “——sleep, rest for a while. It’s not like we’re in any rush to get anywhere, right?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, yet your body fights against it. His words seem to act like a spell, when you are soon taken deep into slumber, falling into a dreamless sleep with his arms wrapped around your body. 

When you finally come to, the soft light of the afternoon sun is slowly penetrating through the windows. 

It feels warm inside, especially now that you have a blanket covering your naked body and his heavy arm resting languidly around your waist, yet you know that the same cannot be said with the weather outside. Even without opening your eyes, you can still hear the sound of the fierce wind hitting the windows, and you doubt that the road would be safe enough for you to drive out of this place. 

You find yourself curling against Taehyung’s bare chest as you properly come to wake. His heartbeat is steady, and you can feel it when he starts waking up. 

“Hey, there—” you whisper, greeting him with a sleepy smile, which he returns with his goofy smile. “Was I asleep for a long time?” 

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, not long enough,” he whispers. “I also just woke up, though. So—” 

Chuckling softly, you stretch out next to him. Your muscles are lax, and while you still feel worn-out, the short nap has restored your energy some. It helps clear your mind, yet you still refuse to move a muscle. 

Glancing at Taehyung, you notice that he has a faraway look in his eyes. He keeps his gaze out the window, and you start wondering what he is thinking about. 

“Do you think we’re going to be okay?” Taehyung asks you with a gentle sigh.

You close your eyes briefly and sigh contently before answering, “With the baby? I mean, it might be a struggle at first. I know because I haven’t really grasp the fact that I’m carrying your baby, but—” 

“No, I’m not talking about this,” he says with his hand waving around your entangled bodies. “I’m talking about—” he waves his hand to point at the window. The muted light of the sun that you saw earlier is still looking bleak, more of a pale-grey than the usual golden, with the wild swirls of snow dropping from the sky and no sign of the blizzard letting up anytime soon. “That.” 

He sighs. “I feel like we’ve had strings of bad luck constantly following us.” 

Smiling against his chest, you know what he is trying to say. “We slept together twice, and both happened due to bad weather,” you deliberately deduce his thoughts with a hum. “Is that what you’re saying?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a delirious chuckle, finding it somewhat funny now that you have voiced his thoughts out loud. “Looks like we’re stranded together, again, until the wind starts letting up. They say it’s going to be soon, but I’m not sure.” 

You cannot stop smiling the more you think about it. “Funny how it keeps happening to us, huh? At least we can remember this day as the first Christmas morning we celebrated together,” you say this with a grin, as you pull back to rub at your stomach from over the blanket. “Just the three of us.”

Taehyung follows your gaze and scoffs. “Way to go for making me feel guilty about stealing you from your family on Christmas Day,” he grumbles, making you laugh. “And if we’re actually doing this, uh—this relationship, do you think it’ll be weird?” 

You look up to him, seeing the frown forming on his face. Before you can question what he means by it, Taehyung continues to explain, “Maybe I shouldn’t come to see your family again next Christmas, or anytime soon. At least until we’re settled and everyone has forgotten about everything.” 

The way he says it, and the way he looks when he did, makes you want to laugh. “I think we’re good. And you can always join us next year. Besides, the holidays aren’t so bad with you around. Not this year. It beats sitting down and listening to other people’s stories for once.” 

Hearing this, Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you. “Even with all the drama we had with your sister?” he asks, sounding doubtful. “In case you forgot, I almost had a brawl with your stepfather.” 

For the first time ever, you doesn’t feel any need to correct him by calling Alia as your stepsister. That thought makes you smile. But you keep it to yourself, and instead lean up to kiss his cheek to help ease his mind out of it. 

“What we had?” you question him with a teasing voice, “that’s nothing. You haven’t experienced having Aunt Janey around. Have you ever read or heard those Reddit stories about entitled aunts? She would have gotten all the trophies if anyone in the family has ever written anything about her online.” 

You smile as Taehyung listens to you with a chuckle, and you can feel his worries slowly being lifted. “And as for Dad—” you let out a sigh as you think about your protective stepfather, “let’s just hope that Alia manages to butter him up to let things go. You know that he’s weak when it comes to her. Or, you can buy him a drink the next time you see him.” 

Taehyung purses his lips as he considers this. For a moment, he doesn’t seem to believe your words, but he still nods his head either way. “Fine, I guess we can talk about that later. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there, I suppose?” he asks with a bashful smile. “Why don’t we focus on you for now, and the baby?” 

You prop yourself up on your elbow while holding up the blanket with the other arm to cover your nakedness from his hungry eyes. “Alright, what do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he says with a grin as he sits up against the bed’s headrest. “Should we continue and maybe do this with a late lunch, though? I’m starving. I couldn’t eat anything at breakfast.” 

“Are you famished for food, or—” you tease him by leaning closer, “Do you have an appetite for another thing?

He groans. “If the second option has anything to do with you, then the answer would be both. But we need to get some food in our system if we want to get back into the other.” 

Laughing, you finally step out of the bed to call for the room service. You continue to spend the rest of the day with him, chatting over the meal, talking about your future plans and all the mundane things that you need to know about each other, before the heat between you picks up again and he pulls you back into bed.

Warmth envelopes you the entire time you are with him, regardless of the winter storm that is still happening outside of these walls. 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading this story! Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. See you in the next story :)

© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 

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A Sweet Christmas | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N, spend a cozy Christmas evening baking cookies together. Despite Lando’s playful messes, they laugh and enjoy decorating the cookies. The night is filled with warmth, love, and holiday magic as they relax by the tree and savor their homemade treats.

Masterlist

The snow had started to fall softly outside the windows of Lando Norris' cozy apartment. It was the kind of quiet, peaceful evening that you could only find around Christmas, when everything felt a little bit more magical. Inside, the soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the living room, and the warm scent of cinnamon and gingerbread had begun to fill the air.

Y/N was standing in front of the kitchen counter, her apron tied around her waist, carefully measuring out flour. She was excited for their Christmas tradition, even if it was something simple—making cookies together. It had become something of a special ritual for the two of them. Lando might spend most of his time on the racetrack, but when it came to Christmas, he was more than happy to trade in fast cars for flour-covered countertops.

Lando, for his part, was currently attempting to "help" by sifting the powdered sugar... a task he had apparently decided was too easy and, therefore, not nearly as fun. Instead, he was playing around, tossing little clouds of sugar up in the air and watching them drift down like snowflakes. Y/N chuckled as one of them landed in his hair.

“Lando!” she laughed, reaching for a paper towel to wipe some sugar off his shoulder. “You’re making a mess!”

He grinned sheepishly, but there was something incredibly endearing about his childlike energy. “Hey, I’m helping! You just don’t understand the art of creating the perfect snowfall effect with powdered sugar,” he teased, flicking a bit more in her direction.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding up the flour and gesturing with a teasing smile. “I think you’re just making a bigger mess than we need to clean up later.”

“You can’t rush art,” Lando replied with mock seriousness, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across her face. “Well, while you’re busy perfecting your snowstorm, I’m actually going to start making the dough,” she said, grabbing a bowl and starting to mix the ingredients.

Lando watched her for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned against the counter. “I can do that too, you know. I’m good with my hands. Maybe I’ll make the best dough ever.”

“Oh really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You can barely bake a cookie without burning it, let alone make the dough.”

“That was one time!” he protested, holding up a finger. “It was a *very* complicated recipe.”

She smirked, already knowing he was about to get defensive. “Sure, Lando. You’re probably right,” she said dryly, handing him the rolling pin. “But for now, you can roll out the dough, okay?”

Lando nodded like he’d just been given the most important job in the world. He immediately took the rolling pin and started to roll out the dough with exaggerated concentration, as though the fate of the Christmas cookies rested entirely on his shoulders. Y/N could hardly contain her laughter at his antics.

After a few minutes of him dramatically rolling out the dough, he grinned triumphantly. “All done! Now, what’s next?”

Y/N moved in to take a look, inspecting his work. The dough was unevenly rolled, with some parts much thinner than others, but she didn’t mind. It would all taste the same in the end. “Okay, now we can cut out the shapes,” she said, pulling out a set of cookie cutters in the shape of stars, snowflakes, and Christmas trees. “Are you ready to make some Christmas magic?”

“Born ready,” Lando said, positioning himself beside her. “But I’m going to warn you, I’m excellent at decorating cookies. Like, top-tier.”

Y/N laughed. “We’ll see about that. I have a feeling you’re going to end up eating most of the decorations instead of using them.”

They spent the next hour rolling, cutting, and laughing. Y/N couldn’t help but love the way Lando’s enthusiasm was so contagious. Even when he accidentally made a dough explosion or ended up with flour on his face, he just laughed it off, turning every mishap into an inside joke.

When the cookies were finally ready to go into the oven, Y/N turned to him, her smile softening. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun baking before.”

Lando shrugged, his expression warm. “It’s the company, not the cookies, that makes it fun.”

As the cookies baked, they moved into the living room, where the Christmas tree twinkled with lights and the soft hum of holiday music filled the background. Y/N curled up on the couch, and Lando joined her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

They sat in content silence, only the sound of the occasional pop from the fireplace breaking the quiet. The world outside seemed far away as they simply enjoyed the moment—together, cozy, and happy. It wasn’t the holiday shopping or the big celebrations that made Christmas special; it was these simple, quiet moments.

Eventually, the timer went off, and they both jumped up, rushing back to the kitchen to check on their cookies. The smell was heavenly—spiced with cinnamon, ginger, and sugar. Lando opened the oven door and pulled out the tray with exaggerated care, pretending like he was handling fragile treasure.

After a few minutes of cooling, it was time for the best part: decorating. Y/N set out icing, sprinkles, and little edible pearls, and Lando was immediately at it, piping colorful swirls of icing onto the cookies with absolute concentration.

“You really are good at this,” Y/N said, genuinely impressed as he carefully outlined the snowflakes.

“I told you,” Lando grinned. “I’m a natural.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as she began decorating her own cookies. They worked together in harmony, sometimes making faces at each other over their icing, sometimes getting into little “cookie decorating contests” to see who could make the prettiest designs. Of course, most of the cookies ended up a little lopsided, but that was part of the charm. Every one was unique and full of love.

When they were finally finished, they stepped back to admire their work. The plate of cookies before them was a sweet, colorful mess of imperfect but delicious-looking treats.

“Well, we definitely won’t be winning any decorating contests,” Y/N said with a laugh, “but I think we’ve created some Christmas magic.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, looking at the plate with a satisfied grin. “They look like something straight out of a holiday movie… except maybe with a little more personality.”

They shared a laugh before grabbing the first cookie from the plate and taking a bite. The warm, sugary taste was perfect, and they both sighed contentedly.

“I think we’ve made some of the best Christmas cookies ever,” Y/N said, looking at him with soft eyes.

Lando smiled, his expression tender. “Yeah, I think we have too.”

They shared a quiet moment, just enjoying each other's company and the happiness of the season. In that moment, surrounded by laughter, cookies, and the warmth of Christmas, Lando and Y/N knew that this was what the holidays were really all about.

And as they settled in with a plate of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa, the world outside continued to drift by, but inside, everything was perfect.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

[krirebr]

Thanksgiving with the Barbers

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: You and Andy celebrate Thanksgiving. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, references to punishment, isolation, solitary confinement, hunger, negative self-talk, manipulation, angst, mental breakdown - This is a rough one, guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Masterlist

A/N: So... remember this part from I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas?

"Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner.

Yeah. This is that Thanksgiving.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who read so much of this and always encourages me to go as dark as my twisted little heart desires.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy’s soft murmurs traveled down the hallway to you from the entryway as he said goodbye to his guests. You couldn’t tell how things had gone. He’d seemed happy enough but as he’d started introducing you to his life outside these walls, you’d learned quickly how easily he could have one face for the world and a different one for you. He’d stressed many times all week how important it was that your first holiday together be perfect. Was it? Had you done enough?

You busied yourself with cleaning up the dining room, trying to ignore the churning dread in your stomach. The leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables had already been moved to the kitchen, waiting to be put away in the fridge. Then you’d start on the endless dishes. Hopefully, that would buy you some time alone, while Andy went back to the football on TV. 

You kept your head down and continued gathering the discarded plates as Andy’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. He entered the dining room and leaned against the old-fashioned buffet that took over one wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You felt his eyes on you, but you kept your own eyes down and didn’t say anything. You knew better now. 

You had a tall stack of plates now that you wanted to take into the kitchen, but you were afraid of turning your back on him and leaving the room. So, you stood where you were, and you waited. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. You looked up. “You were awfully quiet at dinner,” he said, softly, but there was an edge of steel in his tone. 

“No, I–” you started and immediately regretted it. That was a bad word. “I just didn’t have much to add to the conversation.” The guests were all Andy’s colleagues and their spouses. It’d been too much shop talk to keep track of. On top of being so many more people than you were used to.

Andy made a thoughtful little hum before he continued. “Barbara commented on it, as she said goodbye. Wanted to be sure you were ok, hadn’t felt left out.”

You forced a smile, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “Yes, I’m fine. I had a nice time. It was a good dinner.”

He pushed himself off of the buffet, straightening to his full height. “Really, you thought it was a good dinner? With a dry turkey and an unfriendly hostess?”

You couldn’t help the way you blanched. You’d never cooked a whole turkey before or anything like it.  And you didn’t have access to the internet right now, so you were limited to the highbrow cookbooks Andy had bought for you. While those recipes were detailed, they didn’t exactly have tips and tricks for beginners. You’d tried your best. And no one at dinner had complained. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. You’d thought it was ok. But he didn’t want to hear you defend yourself, so you said nothing. 

He looked at the dirty dishes spread across the table and scowled. “Finish cleaning this up,” he said. “We’ll continue this conversation when you’re done.”

You nodded quickly with a quiet, “Yes, Andy,” trying to keep your sigh of relief inside. He hadn’t said you’d continue the conversation downstairs, hadn’t said anything about a timeout or a punishment. You might be ok. You might get off with just a lecture. You could handle an upstairs lecture—kneeling at Andy’s feet while he listed all the ways you’d disappointed him and everything you needed to do to be better. Sometimes you even got to stay fully clothed. Lectures were fine. Lectures were easy. As long as you got to stay upstairs, you’d be ok.

Without another word, he moved into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the fridge as you continued organizing the dishes into neat stacks to hopefully make cleaning up a little easier. He came back with a beer in his hand, moving through to the living room to watch the evening game. As he started to walk by the table, the movement drew your eye to something, his reflection caught in the shiny steel. The carving knife. Just lying there next to the turkey.

The knife block had sensors in it, just like all the doors downstairs or the front door of the house. You had to scan your wristband every time you needed to use a knife while cooking and it would send an alert to Andy’s phone, letting him know whenever you used one, for how long, and when you put it back. But the carving knife, he’d taken that out himself today. As the man of the house, he had to be the one to carve the turkey. And then he’d just left it there, forgotten about it. The carving knife.

As you stood there, staring at it, it was like all of the parts of yourself he’d worked so hard to turn off, suddenly came roaring back on. How much you hated the dress you currently wore. How exhausted you were after working in the kitchen all day without a single thank you. The lecture that you knew awaited you, being forced to kneel at his feet. All of your own holiday traditions that had been stolen from you so that you could accommodate his. Everything he’d taken from you. The rage bubbling up inside of you was cleansing. You felt it giving you new breath, new life. You felt yourself coming back.

You looked up at Andy as he continued to move, his back to you now. That perfect, broad expanse. You could see it so clearly. The way you’d bury that knife between his shoulder blades. You lunged across the table.

Andy spun around as soon as he heard you move, his bottle of beer slipping from his hand, it’s contents spilling everywhere. Somehow, in that instant, he saw what you were grasping for and lunged for it too. Oh god, he was so much closer to it. You'd timed it all wrong. You were stupid in your desperation and anger. Oh well. You'd already made the choice. There was no turning back now.

You threw yourself onto the table, arm outstretched, dirty plates beneath you, just as his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. You let out a guttural scream as he threw it away from you and it clattered against the baseboards. 

A beat too late, you tried to crawl backward, your knees struggling for purchase on the tablecloth, plates crashing to the floor, but Andy had already grabbed your still outstretched arm, dragging you towards him as you flailed, trying and failing to grab onto anything that might help you. 

He pulled you over the edge of the table and you fell to the floor, landing harshly in a jumble, more plates falling around you. He loomed over you, face completely overtaken by rage. But it couldn’t compare to yours. You kicked out wildly, indiscriminately and you’d never felt more satisfied than when you landed a few hits to his shins and he grunted in pain. Your satisfaction was short-lived, however, as he recovered and reached down to wrap his hands around both your wrists, even as you struggled as hard as you could to get away from him. 

He didn’t say a word as he dragged you across the floor. That was fine. You had no problem filling the silence. “You fucking motherfucker!” you screamed, the frustration and terror and anger of the last several months finally finding an outlet. “I hate you! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna burn this house to the fucking ground!”

Your struggles kicked up a notch as he opened the door to the basement with one hand, the other now holding on to both of your wrists. “No!” you yelled. “You can’t fucking do this! I’m done pretending to be your perfect little wife! You can’t–”

He wasn’t gentle at all as he yanked you down the stairs. You had to pause your fighting and screaming as you fell, the breath knocked out of you. You tried to protect your head, tried to protect any part of your body you could as you hit every step. Your dress did nothing to help as it gathered above your waist. You were exposed and vulnerable. But what else was new? You were immune to it now, after being debased every single day for months.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to adjust his hold on you, using both hands to drag you again. Still, he said nothing. But you caught your breath and resumed your litany of hate. “You’re so fucking weak. You’re pathetic. Of course, you had to buy a wife. Who would love you willingly?” The carpet burned your skin as he dragged you across it, but you continued to struggle, continued to scream. Nothing would stop you now. “You’re disgusting. Embarrassing.”

He stopped in front of the door to the quiet room and you almost laughed. Did he really think this was just some little tantrum a time-out would fix?  Did he really not understand the rage and power that flowed through you now? Did he really think a few hours in the dark would quell this? No way. After everything you’d been through, everything you felt now, you could handle the quiet room.

He threw you in and closed the door behind you. You sank down into the darkness. This was fine. This was great. The darkness couldn’t hurt you.

You’d forgotten what it was like to have no understanding of the passage of time. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. Right? 

He would come get you soon. What would you do then? Attack him as best you could. The rage still coursed through you. You were done laying down for him.

It must be getting late. It’d already been evening when the guests left. You were so tired now. Exhausted. But you had to be ready when Andy opened the door.

You startled awake as the furnace whirred to life. You were slumped over against the wall, your face pushed into the cinder block. It felt grimy.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Where was Andy? Whatever tenuous grasp you’d had on what time it was was completely gone now. That was ok. Andy would come soon and you’d beat the shit out of him, and then you would know what time it was.

It was the hunger that hit you first, but the thirst hit you harder. You knew now that this was the longest he’d ever left you here. You’d never gone hungry like this before. Well. He would let you out soon. He had to.

Your stomach hurt with how hungry you were. Your throat ached. Would he just let you die down here? Was he that angry? So angry that he’d decided to cut his losses. Start over with someone new. Was starving to death better than your life upstairs? Or the basement? You honestly didn’t know.

You were sprawled across the floor, as much as you could in the small space. What was the point of being upright? You could barely even tell which way was up anymore. It was all just darkness.

Suddenly, you were hit by a sliver of blinding light. What was happening? It took you embarrassingly long to realize it must have been a slot in the door you’d never seen before. Then something slid through it. You blinked at it, trying to get your eyes to focus, trying to make sense of what you saw. Oh my god, it was food! You lunged for it and tried to pull the tray to you, but it wouldn’t budge. That was better anyway. You needed the light to eat.  

On the tray was a small plate of leftover turkey and green beans and a bottle of water, along with a small plastic fork. You went for the water first, downing it, and then scarfed up the food, not even tasting it. After a few minutes, on the other side of the slot, you heard an alarm go off, and the tray was pulled back, a few bites still on the plate. “Andy, wait!” you called out, but the slot slammed closed and you were in the dark again.

You didn’t have anything to do. You couldn’t remember the last time you had nothing to do. Before Andy brought you here. Evenings in your little apartment, watching TV and eating takeout, fucking around on your phone. You hadn’t done that, hadn’t even thought about doing it in months. 

When you first got here, when your list of chores felt insurmountable and ridiculous, you would’ve given anything for the chance to lay around and do nothing. But now, it didn’t feel right. You should find a way to be productive. Andy was going to be so disappointed in you.

You hated yourself for thinking it.

You tried to do some yoga. You were so stiff from laying on the floor, but it was too hard when you couldn’t see how much space you had and were too scared of hurting yourself on the furnace or hitting the wall. So you went back to doing nothing.

The worst thing about waking up in this room was that you had no memory of falling asleep. It was all just darkness. Maybe there was no real difference between sleeping and being awake. How could you even tell anymore?

Andy brought another meal. Well, you assumed it was him. There was no one else. But you didn’t see him. He didn’t say anything. The tray was pushed through the slot, you ate and drank as fast as you could, the tray was pulled away. You didn’t say anything to him either.

You were so fucking bored. You’d tried singing to yourself. Running through old movies you remembered watching on TV as a kid. Reciting passages from old books. You felt like you were running out of thoughts.

There’d been three meals. If you could count the meals, that was sort of like keeping track of time, right? Even though you had no idea how often he brought them. Still, it had to be something.

The furnace was going to drive you insane. That whirring, whirring, whirring. White noise that wouldn’t stop. So loud you were afraid that the noise was just inside your head now. Maybe the furnace wasn’t even on.

“Andy,” you called out when the slot opened. “Andy, please.” He didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

The timer must have gone off sooner this time. The tray was pulled back when you were only halfway done. You started crying as the slot started to slide closed. Your stomach felt too empty.

You realized your mistake after he was gone. You had to call him sir when you were in the basement.

You started talking to yourself. Just to hear your voice. Any voice. You didn’t have anything to say, but you just couldn’t deal with the silence.

It wasn’t worth it. You saw that so clearly now. What did you really think you’d gain? You were never going to kill him. You couldn’t even hurt him. You were never going to win and you’d lost even more by trying.

You couldn’t remember whether there’d been six or seven meals. You’d lost count. And they were all the same. Nothing differentiated them. There was nothing to hold on to. This was the one thing tethering you to anything real and you’d lost it. There was no getting it back. You didn’t know how long you’d been crying.

He was tired of you. He was done. He was the only thing you had in the whole world and you’d lost him. You’d fucked it up. You were going to rot away in the Quiet Room until you were nothing. There was no getting out.

You crawled over to the slot when it opened and put your head right in front of it, keeping your eyes closed to avoid the burn of the light. “Sir,” you pleaded, your voice raspy, “sir, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir. Please.” You were crying. You couldn't stop. You couldn't hide it. 

He paused before he pushed the tray through, but he didn't say anything. 

You were lying on the floor, trying to figure out whether you were awake or dreaming when everything was suddenly bathed in light. You must be dreaming. Oh, but would a dream hurt so much? You rolled onto your stomach and curled up in a ball to try to shield your eyes from the light. Wake up wake up wake up, you chanted to yourself.

And then– Then, as you were curling up, tighter and tighter, on the floor, someone touched you, lightly, gently on your back. When was the last time you’d been touched? You didn’t know. You started crying, even as you pressed up into the soft caress.

“Oh sweetheart,” someone said. An angel. But wait. You knew that voice. “Look at you,” Andy said, “we’ve both had a rough few days, huh?”

You slowly rolled back over, wincing harshly at the light. There he was, crouching over you. You squinted at him, trying to make out his features. You started to sit up, but it ached to use your muscles that way.

He reached out a hand to help you. “Go slow, honey,” he said, and his voice was so gentle. “Give yourself a minute to adjust.”

“Sir?” you rasped. Was he really here?

“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed, as he carefully pulled you into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“How–” you blinked up at him, feeling so disoriented. “How long?”

“Too long,” he answered sadly. “But we both needed time to calm down, didn’t we?” 

He stroked your back, and you whimpered. It felt so good. You’d been alone for so long. You nuzzled into his chest, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I shouldn’t have– I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. Please forgive me.”

“Oh honey,” he sighed. You wished that you could drink up his gentle voice after so much silence. “I know. I know. It was a hard day. I understand. I’ll forgive you. After your punishment, it’ll be like it didn’t even happen.” 

“Punishment?” you looked at him in horror. “But– This– I–” You’d already been through so much. How could there be more?

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice picking up a firm edge. “This was just a little timeout. For both of us. So that we could both calm down and think about what happened. You know I never want to punish you when I’m angry.”

“But I’m sorry,” you cried, grasping at his shirt. You didn’t think you could handle a punishment. You were afraid you’d break into a million pieces in that room.

“You tried to hurt me.” All of the gentleness was gone now. “You have to be punished so you learn.”

You barely nodded as you curled up in his arms, crying quietly. You’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. It was such a mistake.

“I’ll tell you what, honey.” His hand resumed its stroking, up and down, up and down your back. So gently. “If you’re very good for me, if you take your punishment like a good girl, then we can go right back upstairs when it’s done. We won’t have to spend any more time down here.”

“Really?” You’d been so afraid that you’d doomed yourself to months down in the basement again, even worse than before.

“Really. Neither of us wants to be down here, do we? We both want to be happy upstairs, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir. Please, please. I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.”

“I know you will be, sweetheart. Let’s go get it over with, huh? Then we can take a nice long bath to get all this grime off of you. Can you move? Can you get up?”

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled into his chest, but you didn’t make any effort to move. Not yet. You wanted to savor this for a few more moments. You knew that as soon as you got into the punishment room, all of the gentleness would be gone. He’d be the figure from your nightmares again. And you knew you deserved it. You were so stupid. But you needed a couple more minutes of his soft touches before you’d be ready.

Tag List

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts

[triptuckers]

christmas cookies - percy jackson

Request: yes! "hi !! first of all, happy holidays!! I hope you enjoy the day, and second, could I request a Percy x fem reader making Christmas cookies??" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you join one of percy's christmas traditions Warnings:  none Word count:  700 A/N: I don't really celebrate christmas but merry christmas to those that do! also if you don't celebrate it or are having a hard time around the holidays hope you have a good day as well! enjoy!

you look at all of the ingredients percy is laying out on the table. he said he's got the best recipe for them. you know he's been making them with his mom for years.

you felt very happy when he invited you this year, as it's a tradition between percy and his mom.

even though he's made it a lot of times, he still keeps the recipe with him. the paper is very old and wrinkled, with some stains on it. somehow there's also a blue stain on there, you have no idea how it got there.

then again, half of the food you eat at his house is blue.

you watch as percy puts the last of the ingredients on the table and rolls up his sleeves.

'uh, percy?' you say, picking up a small bottle.

'yeah?' he says, getting out a bowl.

you show him the small bottle. 'christmas cookies aren't blue.'

'they are in this house.'

'alright.' you say, you should have expected it. 'tell me what to do.'

percy slides some of the ingredients to you.

'you mix the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. I'll preheat the oven.' he says.

you do as he asks, measuring the ingredients according to the recipe and mixing them. you can feel percy's eyes on you the whole time.

'am I doing it wrong?' you ask.

but when you look over you see percy looking at you with the purest smile on his face. he shakes his head, walking over to you.

'twelve year old me would never believe me if I told him in a couple of years you're in my kitchen making christmas cookies with me and that you're my girlfriend.' he says, kissing your cheek.

you smile at his words. you were glad this is your christmas. no big fuss, just you and percy.

'okay, now what?' you say as you finish mixing.

'now we add the rest of the ingredients.' says percy.

you nod, adding the butter and eggs and then passing the bowl over to percy.

percy does the rest of the mixing and you're only all too happy to watch.

'you should roll up your sleeves more so they won't get dirty.' you say, hoping to sound very chill and nonchalant.

percy looks up, doesn't notice the look in your eyes and then he nods and rolls up his sleeves more.

after a while, he looks up, a knowing smile on his face. 'y/n, I already had my sleeves rolled up enough. they weren't getting dirty.'

you shrug. 'they could have gotten dirty.'

'you just want a better view of my arms now that all the ingredients are in and it's harder to mix.'

'can't blame me. I caught you staring as well, earlier today.'

percy laughs. 'okay, guilty.' he says. 'hand me the blue colouring?'

you hand him the bottle. he adds a few drops, then mixes again until the mixture looks blue. he squints his eyes, then adds more.

'it was blue enough.'

'nope, I've been doing this for years. you don't want them to turn out green.'

'exactly how are we going to make those cookies turn into christmas cookies?'

'they already are christmas cookies.'

'they're blue.'

'but it's christmas.'

you laugh, walking over to help percy divide the mixture into small balls and place them onto a baking tray.

'I should have known you wouldn't do anything besides bake the cookies.' you say.

'I'm right though.' he says. 'they're christmas cookies.'

'sure they are percy. can you open the oven for me?'

percy opens the oven while you walk over with the baking tray, then you carefully place it in the oven so the cookies don't roll over.

'how long?' you say.

'9,5 minutes.'

'that's specific.'

'I told you, I've been doing this for years.'

'alright, I believe you. what do we do while waiting?'

percy smiles at you, a smile you know all too well. he leans in and kisses your cheek and then pulls you closer.

like this, those 9,5 minutes will go by in seconds.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[gyubakeries]

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 8: baking cookies | l.sm

a/n: hii! welcome to day 8 :) my love language is baking and i would genuinely combust if i got to do it with seokmin, so this was really fun for me to write. hope you enjoy!

word count: 878 contents: seokmin x gn!reader , baking cookies , crack , fluff , chaotic , no cookies were harmed in the writing of this , christmas fun

you're on the couch, mindlessly scrolling on instagram, when you come across it.

"seok! i found it!" you exclaim excitedly, and it takes your boyfriend a total of five seconds to sprint to the living room.

"you found it?" he screams. "the candy i lost in the living room?"

"what?" you ask. "when did you lose candy in the living room? more importantly, how?"

"ah, you got me excited for nothing," seokmin pouts. "i found this really good candy at this restaurant and i'd been saving the last piece so i could buy it at the supermarket, but i lost it, so i don't even know what the name is. anyways, what did you find?"

"the recipe!" you jump up to show him the video on your phone. about a month ago, you had watched this recipe, and you had so badly wanted to recreate it, but before you could save the video, your phone died, and the video was gone forever.

until today, that is.

"oh my god! we need to do it right now," seokmin practically shrieks, but you don't mind. after having dated him for almost four years, you were almost desensitized to such high levels of sound.

"let me just save it first," you mumble, carefully saving the link to the video, sending it to yourself, seokmin and even your parents for extra backup. "seok, can you check if we have all the ingredients?"

as you list off the ingredients, seokmin rummages through the kitchen, and when he gives you a triumphant thumbs-up, you couldn't be more happy.

"it's cookie time!" seokmin sings loudly, and you let him drag you gently into the kitchen to get started.

―

"you just spilled flour everywhere!" you groan. you had barely started with the recipe for gingerbread cookies, when seokmin had managed to drop almost all the flour on the kitchen floor.

"my hands were slippery from the butter!" seokmin defends himself. "calm down, we can't have an angry and clumsy chef in here. i'll clean up the flour, you focus on the cookie dough, yeah?"

you inhale deeply and try to gather your composure. seokmin was right; angry and clumsy were not the best combination. you only grumble slightly when he presses a kiss to your cheek and rushes off to grab a broom and clean the mess.

while seokmin sweeps up the flour, you busy yourself with combining the flour, sugar, ginger powder, spices and butter together, after which you add some honey. just as you start kneading the dough together with your hands, seokmin approaches you with clean hands and puppy eyes.

"can i knead the dough please?" he asks, and it's difficult not to give in, especially when the full power of his large, doe eyes is directed at you.

"go ahead," you smile, moving away from the bowl and allowing seokmin to carefully knead the dough together. he initially cringes at the weird texture, but soon enough, he's moulding the cookie dough into random shapes and messing around.

"that's enough kneading," you instruct, and seokmin gathers all the dough in one large lump, not before popping in a small piece of it in his mouth first. "mm, tastes good!"

"you're gonna get salmonella poisoning if you eat raw cookie dough," you tell him, but he shakes his head. "it's a risk i'm willing to take. let's shape our cookies now!"

you grab the baking tray you had prepped with parchment paper and the two of you get to work on the shapes of your gingerbread men. you focus all your concentration on making the shape as perfect as possible, groaning and muttering in frustration when the head became too big, or if the arms and legs weren't symmetrical.

finally, after a lot of hard work, you step back to admire your creation― three perfect looking gingerbread men with raisins for eyes and a mouth, smiling up at you.

then you look over to seokmin's, and it's safe to say that his gingerbread men look like they just got beaten up.

"min, what on earth have you made?" you ask, barely holding back your laughter at the sight of seokmin's cookies.

"they're supposed to be mini bruno mars gingerbread men," he explains, and you think that if bruno mars ever came across these cookies, he'd probably end up crying.

however, what seokmin lacks in artistic skill, he makes up for in enthusiasm. even as you both laugh at how his 'bruno mars' cookies came out of the oven looking like a brown glob, and your perfect cookies became disfigured, his bright smile never left his face.

that's what you love about seokmin, his happiness is so contagious that it affects you in the best way possible. he's like a ray of sunshine on stormy days, a warm hug when the nights are cold, and the human embodiment of comfort when you're falling apart.

(you tell him how his loud voice and bright grins have changed you for the better and made you happier when you're both eating the cookies after dinner.

you pretend that the tears in both your eyes are from the excess amount of ginger powder you've put in the cookies, and not the unwavering love you have for each other.)

- fin.

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[jujuscrolled]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside !

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

☆ synopsis: Your best friend Satoru Gojo had a bad habit of hogging you all to himself - especially around the holidays - but he always knew when to share. That being said, despite you telling him about your very important date with the guy from one of your classes, he seemed to be abnormally clingy (which you didn’t even think was possible.) Hopefully your hot date won’t mind the messy hair and rosy cheeks you’d probably show up with…

☆ content: fluff, slight very minimal angst if u squint super duper hard, just toru being … the cutest <333

☆ word count: 2.4K

☆a/n: happy toru day !! pls enjoy <3 comments and reblogs always appreciated!

“Wait, what?” Satoru asked, cerulean eyes staring at your figure as you moved across the room. He watched as you twisted the bright red ribbon in your hands into a perfect bow before you secured it to the tree you had been helping him decorate.

“Mm? Oh, I said we have to hurry because I have a date.” You all but squealed. Only sparing him a measly glance, still missing the absolute heartbreak in your best friend’s face.

He had noticed how quick you were moving, almost as if you wanted to leave as soon as possible, and it had hurt his feelings when he was only assuming that you wanted out but now that it was confirmed that you actually did want to leave he felt even worse.

Decorating the Christmas tree was tradition for the two of you - was a date really more important than tradition? Would Satoru act the same if he had a date with someone? He wouldn’t know - he hasn’t looked for a date since… Well, actually, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been attracted to anyone since meeting you your freshman year in high school.

His frown only deepened at the realization that he’d been single for far too long.

Then again, you’d been single for about the same amount of time - it was really no shock that you were excited to be going on a date - but still, Satoru couldn’t help the green eyed monster that was clawing it’s way out of the deep depths of his soul.

“Toru, the ornaments aren’t gonna hang themselves, silly!” You called, finally sparing him more than a glance. It was only then that you saw his adorable pout that he always seemed to sport whenever he felt you weren’t giving him enough attention. You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left your lips, causing Satoru’s eyes to light up - something that you had missed since you had turned around to place your ribbon down before turning back to him and making your way over.

“You’re so needy, Toru, you know that?” You sighed, ruffling his hair before sitting next to him and grabbing one of the hooks from the little box so you could help him place them onto the ornaments.

Truth be told, you hated having to place the hooks into each of the ornaments but Satoru always insisted that it was what made the decorating so fun - pouring your blood (sometimes those hooks were far too sharp despite being reused so many times), sweat and tears into this tree was where your pride should come from. (He mostly says this because truthfully; a pretty tree was never something you’d both achieve - your tastes were just too different so the poor tree was more chaotic than aesthetic. In the end it was more of an eyesore than anything but the experience was what gave it its beauty.)

“Well sorry that I enjoy having you around.” He shrugged, glancing over at you before continuing the tedious process. You only grinned at him, placing your head on his shoulder as you told him about a random TikTok video that you’d seen earlier about a hot chocolate recipe you two should try. He hummed along to what you said, unable to really process anything you were saying because of your close proximity, but trying to regardless.

You’d both always be touchy; holding hands, hugging each other, your feet always finding each other under the tables, all of these things were normal - but for some reason, knowing you had a date with someone who wasn’t him made all of the touching so much more intense. Would you be touching your date like you touched him tonight? Would you touch him in ways Satoru could only dream of?

Once again, he swallowed his jealousy, choosing instead to wrap his arm around your shoulder and lean into you.

“Speaking of, I saw this video about a mac and cheese recipe I want to try. Should we make it right now? I can go get the stuff!” He had already made his way to stand up but you grabbed the the waistband of his pajama pants (and yes, they did match the ones you were wearing as well - that’s was another part of the tradition), pulling him back down.

“Toru, we need to finish this tree.” You whined, handing him one of the ornaments you’d put a hook into. He groaned, grabbing it from you before putting it back in the container and tackling you into the couch.

You groaned under his weight, shifting so you’d be able to breathe despite his arms being wrapped tightly around your torso. His face buried itself into the crook of your neck, tickling you as his breath fanned across the nape of your neck.

“But, Y/n~.” He whined, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. His body heat combined with the heat of the fireplace was making you dizzy. Or maybe it was his cologne, and the way his fingertips were slowly inching their way under you to the back of your neck forcing your own arms to wrap around his neck so your arms wouldn’t get sore.

You blinked before sighing and reaching a hand up to turn through fluffy white locks of hair. Satoru practically purred under your touch, lips so close to the erratic pulsing of your jugular vein that if he had no self control he’d be placing a soft kiss onto it.

“I think you should cancel your date.” He whispered causing you to pause your ministrations. “Huh?” You asked, completely caught off guard by his request.

He’d never interjected with anything you did in your life; in fact, he was always your number one supporter. It didn’t matter what you did, he’d be right alongside you cheering you on or even joining you if possible. Hell, one time in high school he’d even joined the cheer team for you - the both of you ending up quitting about a month in because neither of you enjoyed using your flexibility.

It had been years since you last went on a date with anyone, it really was getting a bit disappointing to still not have a significant other or even a damned situationship would be better than the lack of attention. So you thought he’d be jumping for joy with you - not encouraging you to die alone.

Though, if you really thought about it, you hadn’t really felt lonely the entire time you’d been single. Satoru had always been there, keeping you company and cheering you up whenever you needed him. But, Satoru was your best friend - not your boyfriend.

You sighed at your thoughts and pulled away from Satoru slightly, looking down only to see that he was already looking at you, eyes wide and pleading. You frowned and began playing with his hair again.

“I can’t just cancel my date, hun. He said he’d been planning it the entire week.” You explained watching as he furrowed his brows before burying his face back into your neck.

“So? just tell him it’s cold outside and that you don’t want to get sick.” He shrugged causing you to roll your eyes.

“I have a jacket.”

“Your hands are freezing and you’re not even outside yet.” He scoffed.

“Not fair, they’re always cold.” You said. It was true, you’d seen the way the goosebumps rose on his skin the second your hands had touched him. That was the funny thing about Satoru though, he’d never back out of your touch despite how cold your hands always seemed to be. You grinned at the thought, running your hand back down to the nape of his neck making him shiver.

“I’ll make you that hot chocolate you talked about - have the ingredients ‘n everything.” He bribed you, glancing up at you before closing his eyes. You felt his lashes brush against your pulse point, coaxing a shiver out of you.

“Toru.”

“Please, I’ll even let you borrow my other pajamas. Know you like those.” He grinned against you. You rolled your eyes; “I already have pajamas on.”

“But mine are much warmer…”

“… I guess, technically, we do have time to make the hot chocolate….”

He immediately removed himself from you making you shiver as a rush of cold air hit your body at once. “Perfect! Y’know where my stuff is, you change and I’ll get the stuff out.”

One batch of hot chocolate later, the two of you found yourselves lying by the fireplace, legs intertwined as he played with your fingers. “Can I practice palm reading on you?” He asked not moving his eyes from your hands that he couldn’t help but notice fit perfectly within his. You hummed in thought, eyes focused on the television that was playing some random Christmas movie - another tradition of yours.

“Is that a yes?”

“Depends how quick you can get it done.” You murmured watching as Jack Black charmed his way into Kate Winslet’s heart.

“Ugh, you still haven’t let that go?”

“My date? No, Toru, I haven’t forgotten about my date.”

He groaned dramatically, rolling on top of you again before biting down on your clothed shoulder, “ouch! Toru, that hurts!”

It hadn’t hurt but showing up with a bite mark to your date probably wouldn’t be a good look. The messy hair and rosy cheeks from the heat of the fireplace (and such) were probably going to cause you some trouble as is. Not to mention the probability of you showing up late was increasing the longer Satoru held you hostage in his arms.

Before he could say anything, a particularly loud gust of wind blew through the cracks of the windowpane causing a eerie whistling sound to fill the room and a cold chill to lick its way up your exposed arms. You shivered under Satoru who only huffed, “it’s freezing out there, just stay the night, Y/n.” He murmured looking back down at you. You frowned, “I already told you it’s too late to cancel.”

“The fact that he hasn’t cancelled already just shows he’s a red flag. What kind of boyfriend wants you to be out in the cold like that?” He muttered rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be silly, I already told you I have a jacket. And besides he’s not my boyfriend he’s a man i’m going on a date with.”

“Who wants to be your boyfriend.” He clarified, but you only rolled your eyes.

“I have an hour before I have to leave and we haven’t even finished the tree.” You reminded him, trying to push him off of you but he wouldn’t budge.

“Toru.” You warned causing him to sigh and release you, “you really won’t cancel?” He asked. Satoru was very playful, cracking jokes at times that most would consider inappropriate, but on the rare occasion that he was being serious the mood would immediately shift. This was one of those times and it made you frown.

“Why are you so insistent on me canceling?” You asked, sitting up so you could look at him closely. He sat in front of you, legs crossed and hands placed firmly on his knees before he let out a big sigh. “Well, how do I know you’ll be okay? Who even is this guy?” He scoffed.

“He’s in my child development class. Plus I don’t really think he’s a freak or anything since we’re friends and all.” You shrugged, leaning back into your elbows. Satoru watched you closely, eyes narrowing as he gathered his thoughts.

“Friends, you say, but I’ve never even had the displeasure of meeting him? What are his grades like?”

“I dunno, like a B?” Satoru scoffed at your answer, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“B for bum. I passed with an A.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “He was sick for a week so he missed a couple assignments.” You explained, shrugging. “So now he wants you to get sick. Probably wants to drag you down instead of building you up like I would.”

“Toru, you’re ridiculous. He’s not trying to fail me.”

“Did he tell you this?” You groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. You didn’t understand why he was making this so difficult for you. It was just a stupid date that you agreed to go to because he offered to take you to your favorite restaurant. That’s it. He was cute, sure, but you weren’t even sure if you’d wanted to be in a relationship right now. You thought you did, because it really was starting to bother you that you’d been single for such a long time, but really you had never felt the need to look for someone other than your best friend.

“Satoru, why are you so adamant on this? It’s just a stupid date!” You huffed.

“You say it’s just a stupid date but yet you’re willing to cut our tradition short over it? How does that even make sense?” He scoffed, brows furrowed and breaths quickening. You matched his anger, suddenly feeling attacked.

“I’m not, but you rushed it too! You are the one who insisted on having it today even though I told you I had plans tonight!” You said making him groan.

“Yeah but you didn’t mention it was because of a date!”

“What difference would that even make?! A plan is a plan!” You argued to which he only shook his head to. “It makes a hell of a difference, Y/n!” Your eyes widened at the use of your name in such a serious manner. His chest was heaving, cheeks flushed in anger and eyes dulling significantly but still holding a fire behind them.

“Why?!”

“Damnit because i’m in love with you, Y/n! And I’m sorry it took being jealous to realize it but now that I’ve realized I’m afraid I can’t let you go on that date. At least, not unless you tell me to fuck right off.”

Your lips parted in shock, eyes widening significantly as you scanned his features for any chance that he was playing a sick joke on you. The only thing you were met with was furiously red cheeks, and pure genuineness adorning his every feature. You let out the breath you had unknowingly been holding.

“You love me?” You asked, he shook his head, “no, i’m in love with you. I adore you, and I have for a while now, honestly.” He muttered, eyes looking anywhere but your face.

“Toru? Toru look at me, yea?” You coaxed finally getting him to look at you.

“I’m in love with you too, silly.”

Safe to say, you hadn’t made it to your date that night, but the tree was your usual beautiful eyesore and the kisses shared under the mistletoe left you warmer than any hot chocolate recipe out there.

[wintfleur]

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS

⊹ let me come warm you up, you been out in the snow ⊹

🧦 ━━━ 𝒿ulie leclerc , 𝓂at barzal and 𝓆uinn hughes have a 𝓻omantic christmas

JulietteLeclerc just posted !

📍Vancouver, British Columbia

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🏷️ barzal97 , _quinnhughes

🎵 : winter wonderland — Michael bublé

JulietteLeclerc Christmas with my loves ❤️

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arthur_leclerc merry christmas sissy ♥️

JulietteLeclerc merry christmas thur ♥️

elblue6 oh my babies ❤️

JulietteLeclerc love you mama ellen 😽

trevorzegras heyy julie 😮‍💨

barzal97 haha cute.

charlotte2304 ma beauté you are glowing 🤗

JulietteLeclerc merci merci sœur 🩷

_eliaspettersson to many beers quinn? 🤣

_quinnhughes it was wine actually 🙂

charles_leclerc miss you!

JulietteLeclerc miss you to cha, see you in a few days 🫶🏻

lilymhe hello 🫦 (leans against my expensive mansion)

JulietteLeclerc Hii darling 💋

lilymhe HEKDBDJDN INWNATYOUSOBAD😍

alex_albon 🤨

jackhughes being all lovey dovey in public is diabolical 😠

_quinnhughes jack get your jealous ass out of Julie’s comments

jackhughes 🙄

lance_stroll Canada Christmas’s are superior 💪🏻

JulietteLeclerc thank you for helping me plan the best night 🫶🏻

mattymarts17 not Barzy looking traumatized on Santa’s lap 🤣

JulietteLeclerc he enjoyed it I promise!

lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️

JulietteLeclerc 😘

lewishamilton Merry Christmas guys, enjoy your holidays!

JulietteLeclerc you too lew ❤️

bboeser merry christmas love birds

JulietteLeclerc happy holidays Brock 😘

lhughes_06 merry christmas, miss you guys!

JulietteLeclerc aww lukey we miss you too, see you soon ❤️

haileesteinfeld me and Josh are sending you guys are best wishes!!! love you 😘

JulietteLeclerc love you Hailee, tell Josh hi for us ❤️

username screaming crying please adopt me

username MAT AND QUINN IN SUITS 😮‍💨

liked by JulietteLeclerc

username quinn is always so smiley with them 🥹

canucks happy captain = happy team 💙

nyislanders merry christmas to our favorite throuple 🤍

olliebearman merry christmas mum ❤️

JulietteLeclerc merry christmas ollie, make sure to keep warm darling!

landonorris so happy for you guys! (come hope soon pls im lonely)

JulietteLeclerc lan we offered for you to come with us 😭

landonorris I get that my number is 4 but I refuse to be your 4th wheel ☹️

JulietteLeclerc shhh don’t lie…we all know you love it

landonorris ….okay maybe I do 🤭

yukitsunoda0511 JULIEEE 🎁

JulietteLeclerc YUKIII 🎄

barzal97 that picture of me is so embarrassing sweetheart

JulietteLeclerc me n quinn think you look adorable ☺️

_quinnhughes yeah the awkward look on your face really pulls the whole thing together babe!

barzal97 look at you 😮‍💨

barzal97 q looks so good in that suit 🫦

JulietteLeclerc it will look better on the….🤭

_quinnhughes I love you, merry christmas angel ❤️

JulietteLeclerc merry christmas darling, ilysm ❤️

barzal97 added to his story !

[caption: ohhh captain huggy 😍 ]

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hfasching22 replied to your story ‘barzy likes to get pampered ☝️’

barzal97 LEAVE ME BE 😮‍💨

charles_leclerc replied to your story ‘how many times did julie fall?’

barzal97 my poor girl, I lost count how many times

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JulietteLeclerc replied to your story ‘my legs hurt ☹️’

barzal97 dw I’ll be up to kiss them better in a minute

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_quinnhughes added to his story !

[caption: merry christmas everyone 🎄]

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JulietteLeclerc replied to your story ‘mat better be counting his days after dropping me 😾’

_quinnhughes I’m pretty sure he’s finding the best cinnamon roll recipe to make for you as a sorry

JulietteLeclerc he’s making me cinnamon rolls 🥹 yeahh he’s getting head tn

_quinnhughes IM HELPING TOO? IM A GREAT BAKER 😫

arthur_leclerc replied to your story ‘so much snow 😍’

_quinnhughes dw it will still be snowing when you come visit!

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barzal97 replied to your story ‘moments before disaster 😞’

_quinnhughes it’s okay babe 🤣

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🎵 : a nonsense christmas - sabrina carpenter

JulietteLeclerc they did in fact warm me up 💋🎄

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landonorris cheeky caption eh? 🤣

JulietteLeclerc 🤫

maxverstappen1 happy christmas guys! New Year’s party? 👀

JulietteLeclerc happy christmas maxy, we’ll see you there 😼

pascale.leclerc.355 my lovely girl 🩷

JulietteLeclerc I love you maman 🩷

alexandrasaintmleux happy julie means happy alex ✨

JulietteLeclerc mi amor ✨

lewishamilton did you guys like the present I sent?

JulietteLeclerc I swear they were like little kids when they saw it 😭

shawnmendes merry christmas, it was so nice to see you guys!

JulietteLeclerc love you shawn!

jackhughes I got you that shirt 🙋‍♂️

JulietteLeclerc and I love it jacky!

colecaufield goals ☝️

JulietteLeclerc mhm 💅

lhughes_06 🔥❤️‍🔥

f1 Merry Christmas ❤️

oscarpiastri I’m gonna need 12 of those cinnamon rolls now.

JulietteLeclerc mat said he’ll send you the recipe!

oscarpiastri oh well….i kinda just wanted him to make them for me 😬

JulietteLeclerc osc 😭

francocolapinto I need a pair of those glasses 🤓

JulietteLeclerc sending you a pair rn!

sebastianvettel merry christmas sweetie, stay safe ❤️

JulietteLeclerc love you seb 😽❤️

trevorzegras god take their love and triple it for me 🙏

JulietteLeclerc HELLO???

carlossainz55 happy for you ❤️

JulietteLeclerc 🥹❤️

arthur_leclerc what is that caption supposed to mean 🤨

charles_leclerc don’t think you wanna know Arthur 😐

barzal97 I love you so much mon amour, thank you for making this Christmas so special 🤎

JulietteLeclerc oh my heart, I love you 🤎

_quinnhughes I love you so much julie bug 🤎

JulietteLeclerc I love you more quinny 🤎

JulietteLeclerc now come back up stairs I have a surprise 🫦 @/_quinnhughes @/barzal97

𝓻oro’s note. my first part of the event!! I really hope you guys enjoy it!! oh I love them so bad; it was so hard find pictures for the boys tho 😾 but I’m glad with how it turned out . . . it’s also my first smau for them so I’m really happy :p please let me know what you guys think!

𝓬heck it, 𝔀ishlist! m.list au m.list main m.list

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©️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[athenasdaydreams]

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: Remus loves christmas for many reasons, but his favourite reason might be you.

chapter warnings: mention of food, other than that not any to my knowledge!!

A/N: merry christmas!! i guess i have to listen to the people of tumblr and write another one... yay

At the young age of 6 years old, Remus John Lupin knew one thing; he loved Christmas. While every day was a constant reminder of his... condition, Christmas was his chance to be normal. His mother would bake sugar cookies and brownies with him, while his father would use magic to string old christmas lights across their small house. His favourite part, however, was not the gifts, or the decorations. It was chocolate. Remus loved chocolate in any form it came in, and in winter, there was no shortage of it. Hot chocolate, peppermint bark, festive chocolate frogs his father would buy for him, Remus adored christmas for this reason.

When Remus went to Hogwarts, his love for christmas only increased. Surrounded by friends who entertained him with games of wizard's chess and card games, he had more to look forward to when the first snowfall of the year happened. Remus loved the way you loved christmas as well. Your sweet disposition only shone brighter during the holiday season. Whether you helped a first year put his ornament higher on the gryffindor common room's christmas tree, or shared your homemade treats with kids whose parents were far to busy to make any, you were just the most perfect person on earth, like an angel that descended from heaven.

On his fourth Christmas holiday spent at Hogwarts, Remus couldn’t help but watch you from the corner of the common room, pretending to be engrossed in the book resting on his lap. You were laughing as you helped a third-year untangle a string of enchanted fairy lights that kept trying to loop themselves into knots. The sound of your laugh—light and genuine—made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Oi, Moony!” Sirius’s voice jolted him out of his reverie. “Are you going to make that move, or are you just planning to stare at her until next Christmas?” Sirius smirked, leaning back in his chair, a knowing look plastered on his face.

James snickered beside him, flicking a wizard’s chess piece that had been knocked over in the chaos of their ongoing game. “Don’t be too hard on him, Padfoot. Christmas is the time for love and all that nonsense, isn’t it?”

Remus flushed, ducking his head to hide the redness creeping up his cheeks. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, though the heat in his face betrayed him.

“Oh, sure,” Peter chimed in, grinning as he picked up one of the chocolate frogs from a plate nearby. “Because it’s totally normal to sit with a chessboard in front of you for twenty minutes without moving a single piece.”

Before Remus could come up with a defense, you approached the group, holding a tray of what looked like freshly baked gingerbread cookies. “Anyone want some? I tried a new recipe, and I think they turned out pretty well,” you said, smiling as you offered the plate.

Remus’s heart skipped a beat as you leaned closer to him, holding out the tray. “Here, Remus. I know you like chocolate, so I added a little drizzle on these ones.”

He stared at the cookies for a moment, then at you, his brain struggling to form coherent words. “Thank you,” he managed, his voice quieter than he intended. He took one, the warmth of your smile making his insides feel like melted chocolate.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Smooth, Moony. Really smooth.”

You laughed softly at their antics, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, enjoy, everyone. Let me know what you think.” And with that, you turned to help another group of students decorating by the fireplace.

Remus watched you walk away, the cookie forgotten in his hand. James leaned over and whispered, “Mate, you’re going to have to say something eventually. Preferably before we graduate.”

But Remus didn’t need their teasing to know what was on his mind. You had a way of making every part of Christmas brighter, and he couldn’t help but think that you were the best gift he’d ever have the privilege of knowing.

By the next Christmas, the common room was alive with festive cheer once more, and this time, you and Remus sat together by the fire like old friends—though to Remus, you were so much more than that.

It had been a year since that quiet, awkward conversation, and in that time, you and Remus had grown closer in a way that felt effortless. He no longer hesitated to sit beside you in the common room or join you for study sessions in the library. You’d developed a quiet, easy camaraderie that made him feel like he belonged in a way he hadn’t since arriving at Hogwarts.

This Christmas, though, felt different.

“Are you winning, Moony?” you teased, leaning over to glance at his game of wizard’s chess with Sirius.

“Not even close,” he admitted with a wry smile. His knight was just smashed to bits by Sirius’s queen, and his remaining pieces seemed to be shaking with dread.

“Poor knight,” you said with mock sympathy. “He never stood a chance.”

Sirius grinned. “I’m ruthless. Everyone knows that.”

Remus rolled his eyes but chuckled, turning to you. “I think my pieces have officially given up. Care to save me by distracting Sirius?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh no, I’m terrible at chess. But I can offer you some chocolate for moral support.”

Reaching into the small tin you’d brought with you, you held out a neatly wrapped piece. Remus accepted it with a quiet “thanks,” and as he unwrapped it, he couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful you always were.

“Do you ever stop being nice?” he asked softly, almost to himself.

You tilted your head, smiling. “Why would I stop? It’s Christmas.”

“Still,” he muttered, looking down at the chocolate in his hand. “You make everything... better. Not just Christmas. Just—everything.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you reached for a piece of chocolate yourself to hide your flustered smile. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The word friends made his heart ache in the best and worst way. He wanted to be more than that, but the thought of ruining what you already had was enough to keep him silent.

“You’ve been so good to me this year, Remus,” you said after a moment, surprising him. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Me? You’re the one who’s—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You leaned closer, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “No, go on. What were you going to say?”

He hesitated, then sighed, giving you a small smile. “You’re the one who’s made this year so great. I mean, you’re... you’re incredible, really. You make everyone feel special. It’s hard not to feel lucky just being around you.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked down at your lap, feeling suddenly shy. “Well, if I make everyone feel special, it’s only because I learned from you.”

Remus blinked, caught completely off guard. “From me?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course. You’re one of the kindest people I know, Remus. And you always know how to make people feel cared for, even when you don’t realize it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room seemed to grow quieter, the glow of the fire casting a soft light over your faces.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Remus,” you said, your smile brighter than any decoration in the room.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his heart so full it felt like it might burst.

He still didn’t know if he’d ever work up the courage to tell you how he really felt, but for now, being your friend—your favourite friend, he hoped—was more than enough.

[yelenasdiary]

Hello youuu :D I was thinking about a request for Xmas involving Yelena of course 🤭

It's your first Christmas as an adult (meaning you have your own appartment, your first job, etc) and you find out your family went away in a vacation instead of doing Christmas at home as usual. The thing is, you can't take enough days off to go with them and they don't want to bother with facetiming you on Christmas night.

So you vent to Yelena about that and she goes all out to give you the best Christmas ever (maybe even annoying everyone about it so they would help her)

Let me know if you need more details / if you have any questions :D

Hope you'll have the best hollidays 🎄

Cookies & Gingerbread Houses

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader, Avengers x GN! Reader (All Platonic)

Summary: It’s Christmas and your family are on vacation without even the thought of getting in touch with you over the holidays. Yelena takes it upon herself to make Christmas special for you. 

Angst, Happy Ending

Warnings: Seasonal Depression, Reader feeling unloved, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.4K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope it’s okay that I went platonic with this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

Ever since you got the keys to your first ever apartment, you couldn’t wait for Christmas. A time for you to get together with your family and friends, wanting to host the special day in your new apartment. All year long, you have been keeping ideas and recipes tucked away in the back of your mind just waiting for November to roll around to start getting things ready. As December arrived, you spent so much time decorating your apartment in the perfect festive decorations, the fridge was stacked with food and treats, the family group chat was alive and active every day. 

“I can’t wait to see you all on Christmas! I’ve decked the apartment out and I have pretty much everything we all eat!” You messaged the group as you left work, an excited smile tugging at your lips. 

“Christmas? What are you talking about?....we’re on vacation?” Your sister replied within minutes. Everything you had imagined for your first adult Christmas went from being filled with warmth, laughter and traditions to hitting you like a bucket of cold water. 

“What?...” You sent back, your smile faded quickly. 

“Honey, we told you weeks ago” your mother’s name popped up. 

“I would’ve remembered if you did….when did you guys leave?” You asked, not feeling a mix of disappointment and loneliness as you started to think about what Christmas would now look like. 

“We landed in Hawaii late last night, I’m so sorry honey. Maybe you could get a last-minute ticket? You never got back to me when I asked you if you wanted to come” 

Your mother’s message stared back at you for a moment before you exited the app and quickly searched up flights from New York to Hawaii. It was a stretch, doable but only if you could get the time off work. You switched from Safari to the work chat. 

“Hey guys, I know this is supper last minute, but would anybody be able to cover my shifts for a week?” You hesitantly pressed send and placed your phone on the passenger seat before driving home.  

The whole drive home you racked your brain for the memory of your parents even telling you about their holiday plans, let alone even inviting you and not a single memory came to mind. Maybe you were too busy with work to remember, maybe they forgot to ask, who knows, but it definitely made everything you were so excited about seem pointless. 

“Hi Y/n. Sorry but no staff will be allowed to switch the roaster this close to the holidays. If this is a family emergency, please see me tomorrow to discuss some possible time off.” Your phone buzzed with a message from your boss. You let out a heavy sigh as you sunk into your sofa. 

“Sorry. Can’t make it. Working.” You replied to the family chat, fighting back the tears that were building in your eyes. “Have fun” you added. 

“I’m sorry love, we promise to call on Christmas eve! X, Next year we will do Christmas at yours xx we love you” your mother replied but her words meant almost nothing to you now. 

As you sat on the sofa, trying to avoid dealing with you the idea of doing Christmas without your family, you scrolled endlessly on TikTok, hoping for it to distract your mind but of course, almost every second video was about people getting ready to celebrate in their cozy homes and surrounded by their loved ones. With Christmas only a week away, your Christmas spirit melted faster than the sun could melt a snowman. 

“Ugh!” You groaned, dropping your phone onto the couch beside you and rolling your eyes. A knock at your door making you pull yourself up from the sofa before you made your way to hope it. Yelena stood happy to see you. “hey!” She smiled, “are you ready for Christmas?” She asked, letting herself in. 

“I guess so” you sighed, closing the door after her.

“Why the sigh?” The blonde asked as she turned to you. 

“It’s not like I’m doing anything special” you replied, walking towards the living room once more, “my family just told me that they’re in Hawaii for Christmas and guess who didn’t get the invite” you added. 

“Wait…so you’re spending Christmas alone?” Yelena’s cheerful expression turned to a concerned frown. You nodded as you sat down on the sofa once more. “Well, not on my watch!” Yelena added. 

“Lena’, it’s fine, you don’t have to worry” you tried to assure her, but you knew better then trying to convince somebody as stubborn as Yelena. She chuckled, “you’re going to have the best Christmas, I promise!” The blonde smiled. 

----

Christmas Eve morning came cold and snowy as you woke up to Yelena ripping the covers off you, “get up! It’s like 10am” Her thick Russian accent filling your bedroom. You groaned the morning coldness filling your body, “Lemme sleep” you mumbled. 

“No, have things to do before tomorrow” she replied. You rolled over, pulling the pillow over your head to block out her enthusiastic energy. But Yelena wasn’t having any of it. With a swift motion, she yanked the pillow away, revealing your messy bed hair and sleepy eyes.

“Come on! We have to bake the cookies or Santa won’t eat!” She exclaimed. Sighing, you finally managed to sit up, “fine, just give me a minute” you said, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. “Good! I have coffee from the café waiting for you in the kitchen” Yelena said proudly as she left the room. The smell of coffee finally hitting you as you wandered after her and into the kitchen. 

You grabbed the takeaway coffee then made your way to the living room to enjoy the hot drink while you caught up on the latest season of Outer Banks. Within minutes, you heard voices coming from the kitchen she slightly made you frown as you placed your coffee on the coffee table and went to investigate. 

“Good Morning!” Clint, wearing an apron smiled. 

Your eyes met his as you gave him a soft smile before they moved on to Natasha who was reading the baking instructions on the back of the book. “Yelena, what did you do?” You asked, your eyes shifting to her. 

“I told you, you’re going to have the best Christmas” she said, “I invited everybody” she added making Clint laugh. “Yeah, ‘invited’” he said, “don’t stress kid, you’ve got more than one family” he added, giving you a playful wink. You felt a genuine smile tug at your lips just as Kate and Peter let themselves in, Kate had her hands full of brand-new cooking utensils while Peter had his hands full of grocery bags. 

“You guys seriously don’t need to do all this for me” you said, feeling every piece of love from your family friends. 

“As if we would let you spend Christmas alone!” Wanda charmed in as she entered your apartment, you turned to her and smiled softly. Suddenly your small apartment’s kitchen was alive and becoming a mess. Clint, Kate & Wanda began baking cookies while You, Nat & Yelena & Peter worked on making gingerbread houses.

Sam, Steve, Thor, Bucky and Tony arrived with extra party essentials. Thor placed a very large punch bowl in the center of your dining table while Tony and Bruce whipped up an alcohol-free punch. 

Hours flew by as your apartment was filled with laughter and memories. You made a mess, flour dusting the kitchen counter and your faces. By the time you finished making gingerbread houses, you felt a certain warmth blooming in your chest that had nothing to do with the oven. You took a moment to admire the sound of your closest friends filling your apartment with exactly what you hoped for, love and happiness. Freshly baked cookies wafted through your apartment, mingling with the scent of cinnamon and ginger from the houses. 

“I think we’ve earned this!” Kate said, holding a piece of gingerbread covered in frosting and candy. 

“Cheers to that!” You laughed, taking a piece for yourself. Just then, Steve and Tony entered the room holding up a gingerbread house version of the Avengers Tower with proud smiles on their faces, “no way did you guys make that!” You joked. 

“We did!” Tony said proudly, admiring his handy work in frosting. 

The evening wore on, it felt surreal to be surrounded by friends who felt more like family. You could hardly believe that just a few days ago you felt unloved by your own family and the holiday season weighing heavy on your heart. Now, the sound of holiday classics on the radio wrapped around you like a warm blanket, intertwined with the joyous exclamations of your friends.Yelena was right, this was going to be the best Christmas yet!

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[lowkeyrobin]

i saw that you wanted mcyt ideas so im here to deliver!! maybe something christmas-y? i know its not even thanksgiving yet but im feeling so holly jolly. maybe like how they spend christmas with you? (about anybody, but def tom and ran please !)

oooo okay okay!! ; and dw I've been in a Christmas mood ever since I had to set up a wishlist and get people gifts LMAOOO ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!!! ; also since some are British I tried to incorporate British traditions ; also sorry if this gets posted like.. on Christmas, I probably decided to save it because i didn't get any other christmasy reqs lol ;

MCYT ; happy holidays

includes ; tommyinnit, badlinu, ranboo, quackity & slimecicle

warnings ; language, mentions of drinking

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

bro takes Christmas very seriously

you do all sorts of shopping and activities together

Christmas just reminds him of his younger, innocent self before the internet and the pressures of the online world

it's just a joyful time where he feels like he's right where he belongs, in a cheesey hallmark movie

you decorate the tree together and window shop once the sun sets

your tree is one of the green ones with the off white / yellowish lights, and your theme is usually red / white / silver

but there's complete creative freedom around the house, you're just not buying new tree decor when what you have is totally fine

on Christmas you invite your friends and family over and get in a big circle for Christmas crackers :))

and don't worry, he did cover your home in colorful Christmas lights lol

also matching ugly sweaters cause why not

if you crochet, you made one for him yourself with some... vulgarities

baking up sweet treats with recipes from pinterest is the best part

FREDDIE BADLINU

his favorite part is the gift giving and repetitive movies for sure

the entire holiday season, you're chilling on the couch watching cheesey hallmark movies and watching the grinch on repeat

and dont get me started on Christmas specials of your favorite series

you definitely make your own decor together because why not

your tree is one of those white ones and you don't really have a theme, just colorful ornaments with some sentimental ones on it too

you wrap presents together while listening to music (mostly Christmas pop, Sabrina's fruitcake ep, Tyler's inspo by the grinch ep)

you're the cool aunt/uncle/parents siblings duo istfg

trust if you have any siblings with kids, they yearn to see you on Christmas

^his sister yearns for Christmas at your place too, trust 🙏

you 100% do one of those animal fundraisers for Christmas and get the shelter new toys, food, blankets, and little sweaters 🫶💔

RANBOO

you don't celebrate Christmas, you celebrate ✨️ Christmas ✨️

cunty Christmas guys 🙏🙏 lock in

but you go all out for the season

green Christmas tree, rainbow lights, rainbow decor and silver accents

it's actually so pretty

festive music is always playing, paired with one of those dim screen savers with the crackling fireplace on the TV

you're the vintage spirit of Christmas except you're not stuck to a theme

a family of four in the 70s except gay and no kids

trust Sabrina's fruitcake ep is on REPEAT

ugly sweaters are a must

and that tree is stacked with presents (especially since a lot of your friends are celebrating with you)

you definitely make cookies together and go shopping for the kids & animals at those Wal-Mart giving tree thingies (idk what they're called im sorry)

but giving those kids and animals the Christmas they deserve just makes you so happy

ALEX QUACKITY

if you aren't familiar with Mexican Christmas culture, you definitely are now

and if you are Mexican and celebrate the same way he does, that's perfect!!

for one, he made Ensalada Nochebuena (a fruit salad of sorts) and Rompope (Mexican style eggnog) for you to try. even if you didn't like the food, he'd appreciate you wanting to connect with his culture

you have a very elegant tree, green; soaked in lights and colorful decor, mostly reds, blues, greens and yellows

he also shows you a lot of just random traditions and pictures from his childhood surrounding Christmas, it's really cool

he was talking about how he never got candy from the star piñatas during the holidays, so you decided to paper mache him up a star piñata

he was very thankful for it, and you spent the rest of Christmas Eve night munching on chocolate

your gifts for each other are genuinley so perfect

and you invite some friends over for drinks and dumb activities, and playing with new little toys together 😼

peak holidays

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

yall have the typical green tree and neutral colored ornaments and some sentimental ones

you don't heavily decorate because it's not really the point to you two

you'd rather have stupid funny decorations chilling around the house at random then be annoyed with putting it up and putting it away if that makes sense

like the living room will have the addition of the tree and look basically how it does all year, nd then you remember the horrifying clay sculpture of Charlie that sits beside the television

you go black Friday shopping, the types to wake up at 4am and crash and burn at 1pm

you aren't even freaks for deals, it just locks in the holiday feeling

and then on Christmas eve you're both panic wrapping gifts because you put it off too long

and then you wake up at 8 the next morning and realize people are coming over in like an hour so you scramble around the house throwing food together

and when you go to turn on some Christmas music it's fucking Christmas Don't Be Late by Alivin & The Chipmunks

you just let it play, it's a good song

chaotic neutral christmas

[writingforstraykids]

My favorite dessert - Felix Edition

Pairing: Felix x femReader

Word Count: 3731

Summary: You finally convince Felix to help you in the kitchen, preparing cookies for the upcoming Christmas time. One thing leads to another, and some knocked-over sugar on the floor isn't the only mess you two make in the kitchen...Or: you can't stop teasing your husband about loving cookies more than you, and he has to prove a point.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, domestic married life, baking cookies, teasing, smut, oral (f receiving), fingers in v, p in v, edging (sort of I guess)

A/N: This has originally been a Moon Knight fic, so don't be confused in case this seems familiar 😂 I felt like the concept from last year would work well with Stray Kids as well, and Felix won the vote. Have fun🤭 ~ Moon🌙

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix glances up at you from the sofa curiously as you wander around the kitchen, slowly covering more and more of the kitchen island with all kinds of bowls and cooking utensils. He raises his eyebrows as you go to collect the sugar and flour and take out some eggs and milk from the fridge. You curse softly as a pack of cinnamon slips from your hand, and some fine powder covers the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” he giggles, pushing himself off the sofa to join you in the kitchen area.

You laugh softly as he kneels down and wipes the cinnamon away for you. “I thought I’d make some cookies.”

“Cookies?” he asks curiously, smirking when he sees the excitement in your eyes.

“Yeah, you know, for Christmas,” you tell him innocently, grabbing your notebook filled with some of his and your favorite recipes.

“Christmas?” he laughs, getting up from the floor and stepping beside you. “Babe, it’s the second of December.”

“Which means I’m already a day late,” you tell him, frowning when he snorts at you. “Sunshine.” you pout at him. “Christmas cookies are meant to be made before Christmas. To enjoy the time leading up to it and getting in the holiday spirit. Also, why would you only eat them for five days before Christmas or so?” you huff.

He smiles gently and places his hands on your shoulders, seeing you pout and rubbing them soothingly. “I’m messing with you. I know how excited you get for this time of the year.”

You blush heavily at that and subconsciously shift on your feet. “It’s annoying, isn’t it? You’re right, Lix, I’m way too early and-.”

He cups your face and pulls you into a tender kiss, shutting you up for a moment. Pulling back, his warm, sparkling eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches at the pure love coating his chocolate orbs. “I have told you how much I love seeing you happy. I know how much this time we have together means to you, so it also matters to me,” he tells you, caressing your cheeks. “You’re not annoying, you’re freaking adorable, babe.”

You giggle happily and cover his hands with your own, making him beam. “Seriously though, stop me if it gets too much.”

“Promise,” he smirks, and you frown playfully, knowing he wouldn’t. As if he’d tell you to shut up about baking cookies, getting presents for your loved ones, decorating the house, and wishing for a white Christmas. Or stop you from singing Christmas tunes even though it was still weeks away.

You give him a quick kiss before turning back to your notebook. “Lixie?” you ask in a sweet singsong.

“What do you need, Lee?” he asks, smiling fondly.

You turn to him surprised, and your whole face lights up. “What did you just call me?”

“I called you by my last name, which just happens to be yours as well,” he chuckles and steps in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I know, you just never did that before. Not randomly like that,” you say happily and smile at him fondly.

He looks at you adoringly, smile widening. “I should really start doing it more often then.”

“Please do.” you smile and press a gentle kiss on his lips.

Felix hums softly into it before squeezing your hips.“So, what did you need?” he asks, and you turn in his arms, opening a page of your little book. 

“Would you like to help me with this?”

"What, baking?” he asks and glances down at your neat handwriting.

“Please? It could be fun.” you insist and glance up at him, seeing him chew his lower lip as he scans the recipe. “I mean…only if you want,” you add nervously.

He soothingly squeezes your hip, and his eyes stay focused on the page as he speaks up again. “You know I’ll always help you,” he giggles, eyes flickering back at yours. “I just don’t think I ever did those before, so you’ll have to help me out.”

“I’d love to,” you wink at him and lean into his hold comfortably. “After all, you help me out all the time, you’re always there for me and show me I’m loved no matter what. The least I can do is show you how to make those cookies.”

He snorts softly and rolls his eyes playfully. “As if that would be the only thing you’d do for me.” he sighs before nodding and kissing your cheek. “Alright then, let’s see how soon you give up on me.”

“I’d never give up on you, sunshine,” you assure him and cuddle into his side as he steps close to you and looks through the book with you. “If you see any cookies you’d like to bake, tell me.” 

Felix hums agreeingly and watches you picking out a few classics until his eyes catch a specific heading. “Wait, are these the ones you made for my birthday?”

“They are.” you nod, agreeing.

“Can we make them too?” he asks, remembering how soft and tasty they had been. He has spent many nights dreaming of the sweet treats since then.

“Of course.” you smile and note down the page. “Alright then, you’re ready to start?”

“I’m not sure.” he giggles as you pinch his side playfully. “I’ll try my best,” he winks at you. You have no doubts since Felix enjoyed baking a lot himself from time to time. You show him how to prepare the different types of dough for each of the cookies, and he follows your instructions observantly. You haven’t had as much lighthearted fun as this in a while, and you both love it. Once the first ones are in the oven, he makes you some hot wine punch, and its sweet scent spreads throughout the kitchen. You hand him the rolling pin once you reach the dough, that’s always a little tough for you to flatten enough. He grunts softly and looks up at you, amused. “So that’s why you needed me.”

“Dork.” you roll your eyes playfully and make sure to tell him once he has flattened it enough. 

Felix helps you with decorating them, drawing small patterns onto them, and he realizes he hasn’t felt that relaxed in a while. You sit opposite him, focused fully on your work, a loose strand hanging into your face. He smiles softly and reaches over, gently brushing it back behind your ear. You look up, and your eyes meet his. The way they soften when spotting him makes his heart beat faster, and his stomach flutter. Only you are able to make him melt within seconds. He has to physically force himself to focus back on his task and finish up. You clean up the kitchen together once you two are done and the cookies are in the oven. 

He steps behind you as you wipe the table and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, hands soothingly rubbing your hips as you lean into him. “I love you,” he confesses softly. “So so much, babe.”

You turn around in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck, beaming up at him. “I love you too, handsome. You didn’t do so bad, by the way,” you tell him proudly.

“I have a great teacher.” he winks at you, his eyes softening. “And an amazing wife.”

“And I have an amazing husband.” you smile softly and brush back his soft hair. “Maybe we can do that again sometime?”

“Sure,”  he nods sincerely. Then he smirks and gently wipes his thumb over your cheek. “You’ve got some flour there, love,” he states.

You chuckle before leaning forward and crashing your lips onto his. He kisses back passionately, and you two melt into each other. God, how much you missed moments like this when he was on tour. An aggressive beeping sound interrupts you and makes you both flinch from the sudden sound. “Fucking hell.” he breathes out laughing and turns off the alarm. “I guess they’re done.”

“Oooh, yes, the chocolate chip cookies you wanted.” you nod excitedly and step back as he gets them out. After a few minutes, you carefully pick two of them up. “They’re the best like this, I swear.”

He laughs softly and takes one of them, gently blowing onto it. Felix takes a bite, and fuck, you were right. The warm dough, still a little soft, melts on his tongue and mixed with the chocolate, it tastes heavenly. “Fuck that’s good.” he moans out, and you start laughing. “Hey! You know I would get my ass kicked if I ate stuff like that too often,” he protests, only slightly offended.

“I know, I know.” you giggle and raise your eyebrow at him. “I just never heard you moan like that when you tasted me, that’s all,” you say innocently, and his jaw drops.

“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave lower, and pupils growing wide and dark. 

“You heard me.” you shrug and hop onto the kitchen island, spreading your legs casually and taking another bite of your cookie.

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks, raising his eyebrow at you. 

“Not doing anything.” you give back with a mischievous shimmer in your eyes as you lick your lips clean painfully slowly.

He’s in front of you in a matter of seconds, his hands grabbing your thighs. “You’re a fucking tease.” 

“More like you’re easy to be teased,” you smirk before licking one of your fingers clean. 

“And you’re just as easy to be teased when I get my hands on you.” he gives back, deciding to play along with your little game.

“Is that so?” you ask challengingly. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Give it a try?” he laughs, amused, and rolls his eyes at you. “Fuck, you must be desperate for this pretending I haven’t done that before.”

You smirk succeedingly and spread your legs even more. “Maybe I am handsome.…but who wouldn’t be with that sight?” 

He hums softly and grabs your hand, wrapping his full lips around two of your fingers, sucking them clean. Your pupils blow wide, looking at him as he does so, and he raises an eyebrow at you, smirking in succession around your fingers. He pulls back and lets go of your fingers, a pop echoing through the kitchen. 

You hum contently as his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss. His hand sinks into your hair, pulling you closer. You grab his arm, pressing yourself against him. His hands quickly move down, pulling up your sweater and letting go of you for a moment to pull it off. You smirk when his mouth parts in a gasp once he sees you’re not wearing a bra. “See something you like?” you grin.

“You’ve been planning this all day, didn’t you?” he asks chuckling, his eyes taking in the sight of your breasts.

“What if I have, Lix?” you ask, combing your hand through his hair. 

“Christmas really gets you in a good mood.” he grins cheekily, and before you can protest, he leans down and licks right over your nipple, cupping your other breast. 

You moan softly as he starts kneading the soft flesh and bites down gently. You can feel his wedding ring against your skin, and a small smile spreads over your lips at the small reminder that he is truly yours. His lips messily travel down your stomach, licking and biting his way down to the hem of your pants. The thing with Felix is that he always gets what he wants without pushing you to your limit or stepping over your boundaries. He’s gentle and skilled, and you have never felt more safe with anyone else than your husband. Felix knows you too well, and he never fails to notice immediately when something’s off, which is why you always let him have his way. You have never needed your safeword before, and gosh, you love the thrill of not knowing what’s next.

You giggle softly as he eases you out of your pants with skilled moves and throws them to the side. “Baby, you’re soaked.” he groans softly, seeing the dark patch on your underwear. Fuck, he hasn’t even touched you there yet. 

“Only for you,” you tell him, and a low growl escapes his chest. He's on you in a matter of seconds.

Skilled fingers slip into your underwear and down between your folds. His teeth nibble softly on your earlobe as he circles his fingers over your clit. “Say that again.” he rasps into your ear.

“I’m yours, Lixie. All for you,” you tell him and moan sweetly as his finger teases your clit. “Please.” you breathe out and grab his arm tight to steady yourself.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean deliciously, staring right into your eyes. 

“Take them off, love,” he says, his voice sounding smooth and comforting. You do as he says and take off your panties, your bare cheeks hitting the cool surface of the kitchen island. “Spread your legs, beautiful.”

You do as he says and watch him intrigued as he leans down, burying his face between your legs. You gasp when his tongue makes contact with your skin, licking up between your folds before circling around your clit with just the right pressure. And then he moans so sinfully it has your thighs trembling already, the vibration of it shooting right to your core. 

Felix has taken you by your word, wanting to prove that you were the only thing making him moan like he could lose his mind. His tongue laps up your juices, and he groans softly when it pushes against your clenching hole. Your hand buries itself in his hair, and the grip on it makes his eyes roll back. “Fuck, Lix, don’t stop,” you beg when he adds his thumb on your clit while fucking you with his tongue. 

This man just knows how to use it. You roll your hips into him, chasing his touch and clenching around his tongue. His moans against your skin send shivers down your body, and you lean back, bracing yourself on your hand to make it easier for you to move your hips. Your head falls back as the knot in your stomach grows tighter, and you can feel you’re getting close. “Don’t stop,” you breathe out and press his face closer to your core as you gush against him. 

Felix can tell you’re about to stumble over the edge. That’s when his hands grab your hips, and he pulls back just like that, licking his lips. “What the fuck?” you huff frustrated. “I was so close.”

“You asked for it, now live with it,” he says, seemingly unfazed, and removes his sweater, discarding it onto the floor. His sweatpants follow, and the only thing left are his boxers, which do a bad job of hiding his arousal. He hops onto the kitchen island with a smooth move and pushes you down gently.

You scoot back and make yourself as comfortable as possible on the kitchen island as he hovers over you. You frown at the mischievous smirk creeping onto his lips and raise your eyebrows in surprise when he grabs the chocolate sauce not far away from him. “What are you-Felix!” you gasp as he opens the bottle and pours a pattern over your torso. The cool temperature of the sauce drips onto your skin, catching you off guard.

He grins as he puts the bottle aside and leans down closer. “I thought I have to prove that you’re my favorite dessert?” he whispers against your lips, which has you whimpering and squirming with need.

This man shouldn’t be allowed to make you so weak. “You’ll drive me crazy one day.” you breathe out, and your eyes flutter close when he moves further down, and his tongue experimentally licks over your skin. You bury your hand in his hair as his tongue travels up your stomach, around your breasts, and over your nipples before going back down to your abdomen. He follows the pattern of the chocolate sauce at an agonizing pace and smirks against your skin as you can’t stop moaning, begging for more. 

Once he's done, he moves back up again and kisses you, sliding his tongue against yours. You can taste the sweetness of the chocolate and moan softly. His hand slips down between your legs again, one finger pushing into you with ease. Your grip around his hair grows tighter when he soon adds another finger and then another, opening you up and preparing you for him. He toys with your clit mindlessly whilst doing so, and it pushes you closer to the edge once more. "Felix, please," 

"Please, what?" he asks against your lips, curling his fingers against your sweet spot. 

You cry out in pleasure, and your hips buck into his touch. "I'm so close," 

"Nah, you're not." he shakes his head, and your eyes shoot open, looking at him almost offended. 

"Excuse me?" you breathe out. 

"I said you're not close," he repeats himself calmly, and a smug grin covers his lips. Sometimes, that angel face could trick you into thinking he wasn’t a menace beneath it. He kisses you sweetly and pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. "You're just ready to take all of me." 

You huff softly and laugh weakly, reaching down and pulling at his boxers impatiently. "You really weren't joking about teasing me." 

"I have a point to prove, don't I?" he asks, chuckling and caressing your cheek. "Easy now. I got you, sweet girl." 

You lean into his touch and smile up at him through hooded eyes. "I know you do." He smiles gently and kisses your forehead before taking off his boxers and throwing them over his shoulder. "I swear if they landed on the cookies, I'll kick your ass once this is over." you threaten him jokingly. 

"Oh, so first you want me to make you cum, and then you'll kick my ass? How rude." he gives back, amused. 

"You're about to fuck me on the table, and I don't even have a pillow. You talk about being rude." you tease back, and your heart melts when he goes to grab his discarded sweater from the floor. He scrunches it up and places it underneath your head. "I was joking, sunshine," you tell him fondly. 

"I know you were," he tells you just as fondly and plants a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, making you giggle. 

You open your mouth to speak, but a moan leaves your lips when the head of his cock slides through your folds, collecting your juices. You spread your legs for him and moan deliciously when he starts pressing into you with slow and gentle thrusts. As soon as he’s buried fully inside of you, his head lays against your chest as he groans softly. "You're still so tight." he moans deliciously, and you clench around him in response. He starts moving, and you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. 

"Only for you, Lixie," you tell him and see the proud smile covering his lips. He picks up pace after a moment, and you moan out in pleasure. Your hand falls to the side as you attempt to hold onto the table's edge to steady yourself. Instead, you knock the rest of the sugar onto the floor, and the loud thud makes you both stop in your movements. 

"Did you just -?" Felix asks quietly. 

"Yep, that was the sugar," you answer unbothered as if nothing happened. 

"You -." Felix starts laughing above you, his arms trembling. "We're so fucking ridiculous sometimes."

You start laughing as well and shake your head. "I love us for that," you tell him, biting your lip at the burning but pleasurable stretch. "Now move, handsome," you beg softly and wriggle your hips impatiently. 

Felix giggles and picks up the pace again, thrusting into you steadily. "Patience." But you've had enough of that, and it doesn't take long until you're begging for more. He grabs your hands and pins them down above your head when he picks up the pace and force of his thrusts. His other hand teases your nipples, squeezes your hip, and then comes to rest on your clit. His thumb draws circles on it, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. 

You arch up against him, moaning his name and begging for more. "Please, Lix, harder, I can take it." you ramble, and he gives you exactly what you want, his teeth sinking into your neck. 

He can tell by the way your moans grow high-pitched, your back arches, and your face contorts in pure pleasure. "Come for me, my beautiful wife." he encourages you, and your body tenses at his words. He kisses you sweetly before whispering softly. "Come for me, Lee." 

Something inside you snaps, and hot white pleasure ripples through your body as he sends you over the edge with four little words. You cry out his name with a broken whimper, and the way you clench around him and push your legs closer together sends him over the edge sooner than he thought. 

Felix groans loudly and fills you up, his head sinking against your shoulder as he lazily rides you two through it. Your combined pants and whimpers echo in each other’s ears as your high has subsided. He moves to pull out, but you keep him there. 

"Stay, please. Just for a bit," you whisper, and he smiles softly. 

He wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his back with you on top of him. Felix soothingly rubs your back and plays with your hair. "Are you convinced now?" he asks teasingly, unable to let this go yet. 

You push yourself up with a grunt and brace yourself on his chest. You smirk down at him. "I believe you," you tell him and teasingly circle your hips, making him moan. "My turn now,"   you say, and he grabs your hips, growing hard again already. 

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"I think I can get used to baking with you." he grins, and you playfully smack his chest.

@soullostinspaceandtime @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @imastraykidsfan

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Locked In

Day 7 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: David “Deacon” Kay x fem!wife!reader

Summary: You surprise Deacon and 20 David with Christmas cookies, but while you’re there, an active shooter enters the station. Deacon tries to concentrate, but can’t until he knows you’re safe.

Warnings: angst, fluff, parts could be viewed as a little suggestive but that wasn’t my intention (oops), David and Deacon are used interchangeably. (set in season 1 or 2; Jessica has a very small role in this)

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: We’re just pretending that Annie doesn’t exist lol. Jay Harrington as Deacon is the only reason I watch SWAT (not kidding; I don't even like the show, I just love him), so I am excited to try my hand writing for him! I’m open to a part 2 as I plan to keep writing for Deacon!! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

(Picture from Pinterest)

You reach over, your eyelids fluttering open when you feel the cold sheets on David’s side of the bed. Your husband isn’t supposed to be at work yet, and he went to the gym last night, so you’re expecting him to be beside you when you wake up before your alarm goes off. Rubbing your eyes, you slip out of the bed and walk to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around yourself to stay warm.

“Hey,” you say quietly, walking through the kitchen, Christmas lights twinkling in the living room.

David looks up from a book, sending you a soft smile as you approach. He leans back in his seat, raising his hands to your hips as he leads you to stand between him and the table.

“Are you okay?” you ask, laying your hands on his arms.

“Yeah, just- just been thinking.”

“About?”

He stays quiet, his eyes bouncing between yours.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, David.”

“I do, it’s just hard.”

“Hey, I get it. You’ve been through a lot in the last year. You can take the time and space you need.”

“I don’t want time or space from you. But I also don’t want to pile everything up on you. You’re my wife, not my therapist.”

You smile, stepping forward to straddle David’s lap as your arms wrap around his shoulders while his arms lay heavily on your waist.

“Why can’t I be both? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“I love you, David Kay,” you whisper.

“I love you, Mrs. Kay,” David replies, smiling as he leans up to kiss you.

“You have to go to work,” you mumble against his lips as his arms tighten around you.

“You’re my therapist, write me a note,” David replies, kissing your jaw between each word.

You laugh, which turns to a squeal when he stands, lifting you in his arms and carrying you back to the bedroom. He tosses you on the bed, laughing when you bounce on impact.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask.

“Turning into a housewife?”

“What can I say? You have that effect on me,” you joke.

He pulls his uniform out of the closet, hanging it on a hook before approaching the bed.

“You’re distracting.”

“You’re easily distractible. But, I’ll let you go to work.”

You sigh as you stand, kissing David one last time as you walk by him to get ready.

“Have a great day.”

“I always do, when I know you’re waiting for me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After David leaves, you spend the morning wondering what could be weighing so heavily on his mind. You know that he puts on a brave face, but you don’t want him to have to be a rock around you - for you - all the time. Deciding that David could use a little Christmas cheer and a special visit at work today, you walk to the kitchen and start baking cookies. As you bake, you come to a realization of your own, and your first thought is that you need to talk to David about it. Every cookie recipe David has ever told you he enjoyed or eaten too many of is baked and decorated before you’re ready to visit him. You’re sure his team won’t mind the abundance of cookies.

Someone says your name when you enter, and you smile as Jessica approaches.

“Cookies for… the whole LAPD?” she guesses.

“It started as cookies for David, but I think I went a little overboard. Think anyone is interested?”

“Oh,” she pauses to laugh and wrap an arm around your shoulders. “The whole team is very interested.”

You let her steer you through the station, your smile growing when you hear David's voice.

“Guys, look what I found,” Jessica announces when you enter.

David says your name, his eyes wide as he walks to you.

“Are those cookies?” Street asks, standing on his tiptoes to see at the plate over Deacon’s shoulder.

“Figured everyone could use some holiday cheer,” you say, letting Deacon take the plate and set it on the table.

He points between Tan and Luca, demanding, “Do not eat them all.”

Hondo laughs, teasing them more as Deacon hugs you, keeping an arm around you as he reaches forward and takes two cookies.

“Man, you married up,” Hondo says around a cookie.

“Sure did,” David agrees.

“Can I get this recipe?” Chris asks, holding up a tender sugared-gingerbread hybrid cookie.

“No,” Deacon answers, while you nod and wink at her.

“Thank you so much,” Tan tells you.

“Yeah, you have no idea how much we needed these today, Mrs. Deac,” Luca adds, hugging you.

“Of course. Merry Christmas, guys,” you reply.

An alarm goes off, and you step back as the team crowds around the monitors. Deacon reads something, then looks over his shoulder, first at Jessica, who looks up from her phone, then at you.

“Get her somewhere safe,” Hondo commands. “Gear up!”

David takes your hand, and you wordlessly follow him, jogging alongside him as you travel through the station. He opens a door, pulling his sidearm out to clear the room before instructing you to sit. He kneels in front of you, holding your face as he speaks.

“There’s an active shooter,” he informs you gently. “I need you to stay here.”

You nod, but he shakes his head and adds, “I need you to tell me, promise me, that you are going to stay here and stay safe.”

“I promise, Deac,” you say, leaning into his hands.

He rocks forward onto his toes, kissing you quickly before standing. He sets a radio on the table beside you; he doesn’t tell you, but you know it’s in case you need him. A worst-case-scenario savior that he prays you won’t need.

“Go,” you whisper. “Be safe.”

He nods, slowly pulling his hand from your shoulder as he leaves, the door locking behind him.

“Keep him safe,” you whisper upwards.

✯✯✯✯✯

After he leaves you, he joins Hondo and the rest of 20 David, but he barely registers Hondo’s direction as his mind stays on you.

“Deacon, Street, you’re with me,” Hondo finishes, looking directly at Deacon.

They navigate the hallways slowly until Hondo signals for them to stop. He pulls his phone from his pocket, reading a message before turning to Deacon and Street.

“Jessica and Hicks think the DA is the target. He’s holed up outside the armory. Rocker is with him now, but they need an escort,” Hondo relays the information to them quietly. “You two go get the DA, get him secure, then meet me.”

“You got it,” Deacon says as Street nods.

They move carefully, pausing at each corner. Just as they reach the DA and Rocker, a gunshot sounds in the distance. Deacon tenses, trying to deduce where the shot came from.

“Shooter located. Hallway southeast of the armory,” someone says over the radio.

Deacon releases a breath, his tension leaking out now that he knows the shooter is moving away from you. Street puts the DA between him and Deacon, allowing Deacon to lead the way. Deacon decides to move north, away from the shooter and closer to you. Street recommends the same room you’re in, and Deacon quickly agrees.

The door moves, and you grab the radio before moving against the wall. David comes in, and you step away from the wall, dropping the hand clutching the radio to your side. Two more people follow him into the room before they close the door and it locks.

Deacon tilts his head, silently asking you to sit down. You do, and he sits beside you, pulling his glasses off to look into your eyes. 

“Shooter moving toward you, 20 David. By our count, he should be running low on ammo,” Rocker radios.

“Go,” you whisper, seeing Deacon’s eyes widen at the idea of his team under attack.

He nods, but you stop him as he begins to stand. Raising your fingers to his jaw, you turn his face toward you.

“Promise me,” you say. “Promise me that you will focus. You have to be safe for yourself, for your team… for me.”

“I can’t just push you out of my mind like that,” he admits.

“Then remember and think about the version of me that can protect myself. But I can only do that if I know that you’re coming back to me.”

David nods, his eyes glassy as he whispers his promise. You know he means it, and you send a comforting smile to the DA, offering him cookies when the situation is clear.

“That- that would actually be really nice. I could use some cookies today,” the DA says, chuckling.

“Seems that most of us could,” you agree.

✯✯✯✯✯

You hear two gunshots and thundering footsteps echo before the doorknob rattles.

“We’re comin’ in,” David says through the door.

“It’s okay, they’re SWAT,” you inform the DA, who’s backing into a corner. When he sees their uniforms, he relaxes and walks out to talk to Hicks and Cortez. 

David’s arms wrap around you, holding you tight against his chest. 

“It’s all clear. We got him,” David tells you as he leads you back to the team.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you tell him.

“I always will,” he replies.

When you turn the corner, you see 20 David gathered around the table, looking no worse for the wear as they each grab another cookie. The previously full plate has dwindled to nearly nothing in the short time since you arrived.

“The DA said you offered him a cookie?” Chris asks, smiling as you walk in.

“He looked like he was going to cry,” you defend.

Deacon laughs as Jessica yells her agreement from outside. Deacon’s arm is still around you, and he pulls you closer as the team talks about the DA’s reaction to the situation. They silence suddenly, and you look over to see them staring at the last cookie.

“Can I have the last one?” Street asks you, smiling kindly.

“What? No, man. I’ve known her longer, I should get it,” Luca argues.

“I caught the shooter!” Tan adds incredulously.

They look to you, but Deacon speaks instead. “I’m married to her.”

Everyone else groans and looks up at the ceiling.

“Street, you can have the cookie,” you answer.

He cheers as Deacon looks down at you with wide puppy-dog eyes, an accusation of your betrayal ready.

“There’s more at home,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“You guys want to come to a Christmas party next weekend for more cookies?” Deacon asks; you’d be surprised at his willingness to share if you didn’t know him so well and love him for all the reasons he’s demonstrated today.

“We’ll be there,” Hondo answers, smiling as the rest of the team nods. “And thanks for the cookies today.”

Hondo walks around Luca and Tan, who are still arguing over the cookie, to stand beside you. “You’re pretty brave for a cookie elf,” he teases you.

“Have you ever had to try cookie recipes until you found one that David Kay liked enough to request again? Being a cookie elf is no simple task, Sergeant Harrelson,” you reply.

Hondo laughs, patting your shoulder as he walks by. David smiles at you and offers to walk you to your car. As you leave the room, he looks over his shoulder quickly.

“I’ll be home soon. My shift is ending,” David tells you as he opens your door.

“Okay. Thanks for protecting me, David.”

“Always.”

He kisses you quickly, leaning down to buckle your seatbelt.

“Um, David? Can we talk about something when you get home?” you ask, remembering your earlier thoughts.

His brows furrow even as he nods.

“It’s not important - I mean, it is important but nothing you need to worry about.”

“Of course.”

✯✯✯✯✯

David gets home just a few minutes after you do. You meet him at the door, smiling and raising your arms for a hug as he walks to you. He laughs but humors you by pulling you close.

“Hondo let us leave a few minutes early,” David says into your shoulder.

You pull back to ask him how everyone is, but he doesn’t give you the chance before he kisses you. The kiss is the one you assume he wanted to have at the station after the shooter was captured; it says that he loves you, will always protect you, and will be by your side forever.

David’s arms wrap around your waist, tapping twice to signal you to jump up. You wrap your legs around him, smiling into the kiss as he hooks an arm under your hips and walks inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He carries you into the kitchen, setting you on the counter as the smell of cookies greets you. When you smell the cookies, you realize how prevalent the taste of ginger, brown sugar, and a faint undertone of chocolate is.

When you feel like you can’t catch your breath, you place a hand on David’s chest and lean back.

“You taste like cookies,” you accuse breathlessly.

“I ate the last one,” he whispers.

“Jim wanted it.”

David smiles, pinching your waist before kissing you again, reminding you who you’re supposed to make cookies for.

“Hey,” David interjects, pulling back again. “I know you said you wanted to talk about something, but can I go first?”

You nod, keeping your arms hooked over his shoulders as his fingers trace circles against the skin of your sides. 

“Our anniversary is coming up on the 23rd and I’ve been thinking that I want to do something special. Today made me realize that I was right, we do deserve something big. I think we should renew our vows.”

You smile, pulling yourself forward to hug David. 

“I love that idea. I wanted to ask the same thing,” you admit. “We’ve changed, our priorities have changed, but I’m still wholly devoted to you.”

“Really? We had the exact same idea?”

“Great minds.”

“And great cookies,” David adds, smiling as he leans in. “Merry Christmas to us.”