#i still don’t like how they look but you know i had to include I DONT NEED ONE

[vamptizm]

WHITE CHRISTMAS — p. bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x gf!reader

synopsis: paige invites reader and former teammate—who doesn’t usually celebrate—to celebrate christmas with her family as her girlfriend.

warnings: reader doesn’t celebrate christmas. nonexistent family dynamics mentioned briefly. fluffy ass shit.

word counts: 3677

note: honestly i wrote this for everyone, but mostly for those who may not celebrate and still want to feel included in some way, since ik it can be hard to relate to the whole thing. (divider credits: dollywons)

The glow of the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of your cozy apartment in Storrs, casting long, golden beams across the living room floor. A faint chill lingered in the air despite the heater's best efforts, and you found yourself wrapped in a thick throw blanket, idly scrolling on your phone while waiting for Paige to come home from practice.

The sound of her keys jangling at the door pulled you from your reverie. A smile tugged at your lips as she stepped inside, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Her blond hair, still damp from the post-practice shower, clung to the edges of her knit beanie, and her usual oversized UConn hoodie dwarfed her frame. She looked like the embodiment of comfort and home, and as always, the sight of her brought an instant warmth to your chest.

"Hey, mama," she greeted you with a cocky smirk, dropping her duffel bag by the door and kicking off her sneakers. "Miss me?"

"A little," you replied, already opening your arms as she padded over to the couch. She fell into your embrace, settling against you with an exaggerated sigh, and you pressed a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, wrapped up in the quiet kind of love that didn’t need words. It was moments like these that reminded you how much your life had changed since you met Paige. She had made you feel things you never thought you could—security, belonging, and, most of all, an unwavering sense of being loved.

But then she shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to look at you, and you caught that glimmer of hesitation in her eyes. It was subtle, but you had been with Paige long enough to know when she was mulling something over.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip before exhaling a short laugh. "Okay, so, I've been thinking about something..."

Your brow arched, curiosity piqued. "That doesn’t sound ominous at all."

Paige rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "No, it’s nothing bad. Just—well, Christmas is coming up, and I was wondering..." She paused again, glancing down at where her hands were now fiddling with the hem of her hoodie. "Would you want to come home with me this year? To Minnesota? To celebrate with my family?"

You blinked, her words settling heavily in the air between you. Of all the things you thought she might say, this wasn’t even on the list.

"Your family?" you repeated, as if you hadn’t heard her right.

She nodded, her gaze lifting to meet yours. "Yeah. I mean, you’ve met some of them before, but not like this. Not as my girlfriend." She gave you a gummy smile, scratching the back of her neck, and it was rare to see her this nervous around you. "I just thought... you know, since you don’t usually celebrate Christmas and you don’t have any family around... maybe you could join us. I want you to be there. With me."

Her words were earnest, but they left you momentarily speechless. Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and doubts tangling together in a way that made it hard to focus.

What if they didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing or did something awkward? You’d never had the kind of big, supportive family Paige talked about so fondly. What if you just didn’t... fit?

You realized you’d been silent too long when Paige gently nudged your arm. "Hey," she said softly, her tone laced with concern. "You don’t have to say yes. I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just thought... I’d ask."

"Are you sure?" you managed to say, your voice quieter than you intended. "I mean, are you sure you want me there? It’s your family’s Christmas. It’s... important."

Paige’s brows knit together, and she reached out to take your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. "I’m absolutely sure, baby. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. You’re important to me, and I want you to be a part of this. I want you to see what Christmas is like with my family—our traditions, the chaos, all of it. I want to share it with you."

Her words were a balm to your fraying nerves, and for a moment, you just stared at her, taking in the sincerity etched across her face.

"Okay," you finally said, the word slipping out before you could overthink it. "I’ll go."

Paige’s face lit up instantly, her smile wide and genuine. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering nerves. "Really. I mean, I’m probably going to embarrass myself at least five times, but I’ll go."

She laughed, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "You’ll be perfect," she murmured against your mouth. "And even if you’re not, I’ll love you anyway."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on that."

And as Paige melted into your embrace, her excitement already bubbling over as she started rambling about how much her family would love you, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something new in your chest.

The flight to Minnesota had been smooth, though the hum of anticipation in the air made the hours feel like they dragged on forever. Paige had insisted on sitting by the window, claiming it was her spot for every flight she’d ever taken, and you’d let her, settling in beside her while she pressed her forehead against the glass and pointed out things she thought looked cool from the sky.

“See that?” she’d said, her voice light and teasing as she gestured toward a cluster of houses dusted with snow. “That’s the exact size of the town you’ll move to when you retire from the league.”

“Wow, so you’re planning my entire life now?” you’d quipped, earning yourself a playful elbow to the side and that cocky grin of hers that you couldn’t help but adore.

“Our life.” The blonde casually corrected.

By the time you landed and grabbed your bags, the cold Minnesota air greeted you like a slap to the face. Paige, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, even as you shivered despite the heavy coat you’d packed.

“Not a fan of the cold, huh?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement as she effortlessly swung her duffel bag over one shoulder.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

“You’ll survive, princess.” she said with a smirk, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Besides, I’ll keep you warm.”

You rolled your eyes, but the words made your heart flutter all the same.

The drive to her family home was short, but every minute seemed longer as you sat beside Paige, nerves bubbling beneath the surface. She was chatting about something—probably basketball or some ridiculous story about her brother—but you could barely focus. All you could think about was what awaited you: her family.

You’d met some of Paige’s family before—her dad, her stepmom, and her little brother Drew. Drew, in particular, had taken to you almost instantly, which Paige always liked to tease you about, claiming he liked you more than he liked her. But this time, it wasn’t just about meeting her family as her friend or teammate. This was the first Christmas where you’d be introduced as her girlfriend.

The weight of that reality settled in your chest as Paige drove the rented car, humming along to a playlist she’d thrown together, her hand resting casually on the gear shift.

“You’re quiet,” she said after a while, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head, offering a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking about how I’m the best girlfriend ever?” she teased, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Because if not, that’s a missed opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that tugged at your mouth. “More like wondering if your family’s gonna like me as much when they know we’re dating.”

Paige scoffed, her confidence radiating as she gave a dismissive wave. “You’re kidding, right? They already love you. Drew’s basically ready to ditch me and make you his new sister.”

“That’s different,” you countered, your voice softer now. “It’s one thing to like me as your friend or teammate. It’s another to know I’m… with you.”

Paige slowed the car slightly as she reached for your hand, her fingers threading through yours. Her thumb brushed against your skin, grounding you.

“Listen,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “They’re gonna love you no matter what. And if they don’t? Screw ’em. But I’m telling you—they will. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She lifted your hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss on the cold skin.

Her words worked their magic, easing some of the tension in your chest. You nodded, squeezing her hand in thanks.

“Plus,” she added with a sly grin, “if anyone tries to give you a hard time, just remind them you’re a pro baller while I’m still a college kid. Instant power move.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. Paige always had a way of making even the most stressful situations feel manageable.

When you pulled into the familiar driveway, the house was exactly how you remembered it: warm, inviting, and buzzing with life. Snow blanketed the yard, and the glow of Christmas lights framed the windows like a postcard.

Paige barely parked the car before Drew came bounding out of the front door, his grin wide as ever.

“Finally!” he shouted, jogging over to your side of the car. “You guys took forever. I was about to send a search party.”

Paige rolled her eyes as she stepped out, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Relax, we’re here now.”

You barely had time to grab your bag before Drew was pulling you into a tight hug, his excitement palpable.

“I missed you!” he said, his voice muffled slightly against your jacket.

“Missed you too, buddy,” you replied with a laugh, ruffling his hair.

Paige stood off to the side, hands on her hips as she watched the interaction with a mock scowl. “Unbelievable. I leave for, like, five months, and he acts like you’re the sister he hasn’t seen.”

Drew shot her a cheeky grin. “She’s way cooler and nicer than you.”

“Okay. Just forget everything I’ve done for you, i guess,” Paige deadpanned, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

Inside, Paige’s dad and stepmom greeted you both warmly, the familiarity of it all calming your nerves. Her dad gave you a firm side-hug and a pat on the shoulder, while her stepmom hugged you tightly, telling you how good it was to see you again.

“It’s been too long,” she said, stepping back to look at you. “Paige hasn’t been hogging all your time, has she?”

“Just a little.” you replied, your voice light as you glanced at Paige, who was smirking.

“Good,” her stepmom said with a wink. “Well, make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food, and Drew’s been asking about you nonstop.”

“Obviously,” Paige muttered, earning a playful shove from her brother as he led you both into the living room.

By mid-afternoon, the house was buzzing even more than before. Paige’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and a handful of cousins started arriving, bringing with them an abundance of chatter, hugs, and bags full of gifts. You’d barely caught your breath from Drew’s relentless teasing and jokes when you were swept into a whirlwind of introductions.

Paige, ever the calm and collected one, had one arm draped over your shoulder as she led you through the crowd. Her confidence was a lifeline, her voice steady as she introduced you to each family member.

“This is my girlfriend,” she said, her tone casual but filled with quiet pride.

The word girlfriend made your stomach flip every time, but you kept your smile steady, offering polite handshakes and warm greetings.

Her grandparents, a kind and slightly mischievous older couple, were the most memorable. Her grandmother immediately pulled you into a hug, whispering, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you replied with a soft chuckle.

“Mostly,” her grandfather teased, shooting Paige a wink.

“Grandpa,” Paige warned, though her tone was light.

“Relax, kid,” he said, patting her on the back. “You’ve got good taste. We approve.”

Paige smirked, her hand squeezing your shoulder as if to say, See? Told you.

When dinner rolled around, you were starting to feel more at ease. The dining room was packed, the long table barely able to accommodate everyone. You found yourself seated between Paige and Drew, with her cousins spread out on the other side.

Throughout the meal, Paige stayed close, her hand occasionally brushing against yours under the table. At one point, when you thought no one was looking, she leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You look so beautiful right now. Makes me wanna eat you, instead of the food.”

“You’re really leaning into this whole domestic girlfriend role, huh?” you teased, glancing at her.

“Gotta keep you impressed somehow,” she shot back, her eyes glinting with flirtatious amusement.

Her cousins caught the exchange, one of them groaning dramatically. “Can you two not be so cute? Some of us are single and bitter.”

Paige snorted, tossing a bread roll at them with pinpoint accuracy. “Not my fault you can’t pull.”

The laughter and chaotic banter that followed was enough to make your chest feel a little lighter.

After dinner, the family transitioned into games, with Drew and Paige’s cousins dominating the living room for an intense round of charades. Paige dragged you into it despite your protests, her competitive streak flaring up once again.

When it was her turn to act out a movie, she took your hand and pulled you to the center of the room with her.

“You’re my partner,” she declared confidently, ignoring the groans from everyone else.

The two of you worked seamlessly, your dynamic so natural that you guessed “Home Alone” within seconds of her miming setting traps. The room erupted in groans and applause, Drew shouting, “Unfair advantage!”

“What can I say?” Paige said, pulling you close by the hips. “We’re a dream team.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in her gaze made your heart skip a beat.

Later, after the games had ended and most of the family had settled into conversations or dozed off in various corners of the house, you and Paige snuck away to the kitchen for some peace.

The house was still warm and lively, but here in the quiet glow of the fairy lights wrapped around the window, it felt like your own little world.

Paige leaned against the counter, a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. You stood beside her, the hum of distant laughter and chatter wrapping around you like a blanket.

“You holding up okay?” she asked, her voice softer now. Void of any teasing and her usual smirk, that you swore could be heard.

You nodded, turning to face her fully. “Your family’s amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing.”

She smiled, setting her cup down to close the distance between you. Her hands found your waist, her thumbs brushing over the fabric of the sweater her dad had given you. It only made you feel part of her family even more.

“They love you,” she said simply. “I told you they would.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re always right,” you teased, your hands resting on her shoulders.

She smirked, her confidence returning in full force. “Don’t forget it.”

You laughed, but it faded into something softer as she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours.

“Merry Christmas, Ma.” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, P.” you replied, your heart swelling as she kissed you, slow and sweet, under the soft glow of the lights.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. And as Paige’s arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you impossibly close, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

You stirred awake at the feeling of soft, warm lips pressing against your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. A groggy groan left your lips as Paige's voice cut through the haze of sleep.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” she murmured, her voice warm with amusement as she continued peppering kisses across your face.

“Too early,” you mumbled, turning your head to bury it in the pillow.

Paige chuckled, tugging the blanket off you just enough to crawl closer, her weight sinking into the bed beside you. “Come on, it’s Christmas morning. Presents are waiting, and Drew’s already downstairs losing his mind. You’re not gonna make me carry you, are you?”

You groaned again, cracking one eye open to meet her amused gaze. “You’d carry me if I asked.”

Paige smirked, leaning down so her lips hovered over yours. “You’re right. I would.”

The way her words sent a rush of warmth through your chest was enough to finally convince you to sit up, though not without a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, fine,” you muttered. “Let me brush my teeth first, though. You may love me, but morning breath is still a thing.”

Paige rolled her eyes but pulled you into a quick kiss anyway before hopping off the bed, smirking when you stared at her in mock betrayal. “Hurry up, or Drew’s opening all the presents without us.”

The living room was warm and bustling, the faint smell of cinnamon rolls wafting in from the kitchen. Paige’s dad and stepmom were sipping coffee on the couch, while Drew sat cross-legged near the tree, eyeing the stack of presents like a predator watching its prey.

“Finally!” Drew exclaimed when you and Paige walked in, his energy contagious. “Can we start now?”

Paige smirked, leading you to a spot on the floor near the tree. “Go ahead, dude. You’re first.”

Drew wasted no time, tearing through the presents from his parents and sister like it was a sport. The last box in his pile was from you, and he paused, glancing at you with a curious grin.

“This one’s from you, right?” he asked, already pulling at the paper.

“Yup,” you said with a nod, leaning back against Paige. “Hope you like it.”

The moment he got the box open, his jaw dropped. Inside was a pair of custom Nike basketball shoes in his favorite color, his jersey number stitched onto the side, along with a few small, personalized details—his initials, a subtle design of his favorite team’s logo, and a motivational quote you’d heard Paige repeat to him once during practice.

“Yo!” Drew exclaimed, holding the shoes up like they were a trophy. “These are so sick!” He jumped to his feet, throwing himself at you for a bear hug that nearly knocked you backward. “This is the coolest present ever! Thank you!”

You laughed, hugging him back. “I’m glad you like them, Drew.”

“Like them? I love them!” he said, grinning ear to ear as he slipped them on to admire how they looked.

Next, everyone unwrapped their gifts in turns, each one from you met with smiles, laughter, and gratitude. Paige’s dad unwrapped a sleek leather wallet with his initials engraved on it, while her stepmom gasped at the elegant bracelet you’d picked out for her.

Then it was Paige’s turn.

You handed her a neatly wrapped box, and she raised an eyebrow at the size and weight of it. Carefully peeling away the paper, she opened the box to reveal a stunning, customized Rolex. The watch gleamed with purple accents, subtle bedazzling, and an engraving on the inside of the band: ‘Time stops when I’m with you.’

Paige blinked, her usually confident demeanor faltering for just a second as she stared at the watch. Then her lips curled into a grin as she held it up to the light.

“You seriously got me a Rolex?” she asked, her tone hovering between amused and impressed.

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know what to get you. I spoil you with personalized and sentimental stuff all the time, so I figured I’d go all out for christmas.”

Paige leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You didn’t have to, but I’m not complaining. It’s perfect. Thank you, baby.”

Finally, it was your turn. There was a neat stack of gifts with your name on them, but Paige’s was the smallest—a tiny box that she handed to you with a smirk.

“Is this an engagement ring?” you teased, holding the box up dramatically.

Paige only smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not yet,” she said, her voice steady and confident.

That response made your heart skip a beat, and you gave her a mock glare to cover up how flustered you felt. “Don’t say things like that so casually.”

You opened the box to find a gold necklace with a charm in the shape of a basketball, engraved with the date of your first game together at UConn.

“Paige,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over the charm as a lump formed in your throat.

“Do you like it?” she asked, watching your expression closely.

You nodded, unable to stop the smile that broke across your face. “I love it. Thank you.”

Paige grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The rest of the morning was spent surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the sound of wrapping paper being crumpled and tossed aside. And for the first time in years, you felt like Christmas truly had a place in your heart—thanks to Paige and the family that welcomed you with open arms.

[chosove]

18+ mdni | hockey player toru

an. *GUNSHOTS* *EXPLOSIONS* *CUMSHOTS* HEAVYYY inspo from this one iwaoi ff i read on ao3 in 2021. shit was so good its still in my head, if anyone knows the name lmk so i can cred properly! they did it better yall

pairing: NHL satoru gojo x interviewer f!reader

this was the interview of your career. the one that would take you from a nobody to the columnist you’ve always wanted to be. of course you were grateful, who wouldn’t be ecstatic to speak to gojo “the strongest” satoru, Jujutsu Slapshots newest star. from his innate talent to unreal looks, it’s no wonder gojo satoru was everyone’s recent obsession, including yours. this was all that was running through your mind as you stared at the tall man sitting in front of you, his lanky legs stretching out before moving to tap your foot with his, trying to get your attention.

“as much as i love when pretty girls stare at me, we should probably start with the questions right?”

finally hearing his voice broke you out of your trance, red blossoming on your cheeks when you realized just how long you were staring at him. “r-right! sorry, um” you flipped through your notebook, scrambling to find something- anything from the hundreds of questions you had for him. opening up a random page, you began reading without processing any of the words. “gojo, a lot of your fans praise your skills on the rink, but are curious about what you’re like outside the game. do you keep up your fierce persona, or is that reserved for your opponents?”

your words tumbled out a mile a minute, mouth slightly gaping when you finally looked up at the man you were interviewing, only to find him already staring at you, trademark charming smile plastered on his face. “that’s a good question…” he began, hand gripping his chin as he pretended to think deeply. “honestly im just a regular guy. i like sweet treats and don’t like doing anything on days off. i’m only ‘fierce’ as you would say when im talking to a girl for example.”

your hands were jotting down his words rapidly, the sly confession of his only registering after a few seconds. “o-oh! and um…what would you say is the type of girl you go after?”

he quirked a brow at this, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with those intense ocean eyes. “is this a question for on-the-rink gojo satoru or boring, everyday ‘toru?”

you giggled at his phrasing, wondering how to proceed. if it was any other girl they’d jump at this opening to lay it on thick (and you were tempted), but just to test the waters you decided to take it easy. “is it okay if i say both?”

gojo nodded, never breaking eye contact with you even when you looked away, unable to hold his strong stare. “well, the star of Jujutsu Slapshots would say anyone who can balance me out but still match my energy. i want someone to ground me but keep up with me if we’re at a carnival, y’know?”

you nodded, intently following his statement and subconsciously comparing yourself to each of his requirements. “regular me though, would say pretty girls like you who have my jersey number on their water bottle have me wrapped around their finger.”

your head shot up at the rest of his statement, finally maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds. holy shit, was this your chance? what if he was just being polite and you were about to ruin the whole vibe…worth a shot though, right?

“i-is that so? ‘cause for girls like me, our ideal type is a hockey player named gojo satoru”

he chuckled at your response, shaking his head before standing up and moving towards you. “looks like we’re both in luck then. why dont we take a break now? all this talking has me really thirsty.”

looking up at him like this made you realize maybe you were in over your head, he was above you in every way including physically right now. maybe if you focused on it a bit longer, you’d find it in you to decline the offer to see his actual jersey that just so happened to be in his bedroom. maybe you’d say no to his offer of trying it on.

who were you kidding? you would never be strong enough to deny that. maybe that was the same reason you didnt stop him from lying you on his bed, slipping off your pants because ‘you’d look so much better in just my jersey’. and since you were at it, you could blame that same part of yourself for obediently spreading your legs when he asked- he was just so thirsty, who were you to deny him?

“o-oh fuck, gojo” you whined as he wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking before flicking his tongue against it.

“call me ‘toru pretty girl, think we’re past the formalities yeah?” he rasped, fingers coming up to pump in and out of you as he traced the letters of his name against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

he’d already pulled 2 orgasms out of you, swallowing down every drop of your essence while grinding his hips against his bed harshly, borderline fucking his mattress as he overstimulated you. “don’ have anything l-left ‘toru” your voice cried out, tears spilling from your eyes as your hips crashed against his face despite your protests.

pushing his fingers deeper, he curled them to reach all the spots you never could, repeating the movement until he found that spot that left you gasping for air. “thereeeee she is, pussy’s dripping all over me but ya have nothin’ left?” satoru laughed ay the irony of your words, relishing in the way he seemed to memorize sll the sensitive parts in your body this fast. “go ahead n’ cry pretty, but don’t lie to me”

your voice cried out a sound you thought was his name, but it was hard to be sure at this point. with how rapidly he was fingerfucking you while his mouth attacked your clit, you weren’t sure you’d ever produce a coherent word again. it didnt take long until you were once again on the edge of cumming, hands flying to his head as you desperately humped against his face. satoru didn’t complain though, he’d die happily if it was between your legs.

“c-cummin…’toru i c-can feel ngh”

‘that’s right princess, cream all over my fuckin’ fingers, know how bad your pussy needs this yeah?” his muffled voice spoke into your cunt, impoosibly apeeding up his ministrations until he watched your body convulse against him, a spray of clear liquid shooting out of your pussy.

riding out your orgasm against his tongue, you finally flopped back and attempted to catch your breath, eyes going wide when you felt his hands pull his jersey up to expose your tits.

“think ya can squirt again for me, but on my cock this time?”

[pitchsidestories]

under the mistletoe II Ellie Roebuck x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2032

summary: With a little help of Ellie's and Reader's Barcelona teammates a near kiss on Ellie's return to the pitch turns into a real kiss at the team's Christmas party.

author's note: Dear readers, we hope you had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrated it or not. Enjoy reading ! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

19 months had passed since Ellie had suffered a stroke, there were days the English goalkeeper believed she wasn’t able to make her return in goal, but her will was stronger and tonight marked her emotional return.

Ever since the blonde joined Barcelona in the summer, you witnessed her achievements as well as her struggle first hand. Both of you were in recovery together for different reasons, yet it made you bond over the similar situation.

As the season changed from summer to autumn, you went from being regular teammates to friends. Now that winter had arrived in Spain, you wondered whether the two of you could be more for each other.

The football game against Real Betis turned out to be a solid win for Barca with Esme, Caroline and Ona scoring.

Much to your own dissatisfaction, Pere substituted you at the end of the game. He told you he didn’t want to risk anything after your recent comeback but was happy with your performance. 

The words of your coach calmed you down a bit while you sat down to watch the rest of the game including the only goal from a Sevillian player. The team celebrated it like their own little win, immediately your eyes went to look for Ellie’s reaction who was clearly frustrated by it.

Nonetheless, it was a win that meant so much more because the goalkeeper had returned to the beautiful game she loved so much.

After the game officially ended you immediately ran on the pitch to jump into Ellie’s open arms. “Congratulations, babe. We're all so proud of you,’ you whispered in her ear, ignoring the fact that your lips were almost touching her in a perfect kiss.

The English woman beamed at you: “Thanks.”  Her face literally lit up and competed with the beauty which were the glowing and colourful windows inside the Sagrada Família. For a moment both of you forgot you were still surrounded by people until Kika reminded you.

“Move over, we want to hug Ellie too!”, the Portuguese forward chuckled amused.

Slightly embarrassed, you release yourself from her embrace, feeling your cheeks turn fiery red at her comment.

Many team-mates followed the striker and hugged the goalkeeper, who responded with a warm smile and said thank you, girls.

” You’re welcome, we've been waiting for this moment, and it hasn't disappointed us”’ replied Kika in a friendly tone

Curious, Keira asked her friend, whom she had known for so long at this point: “How does it feel to be back?”

“Unbelievable. I'm glad I can share this with you in the team too”, Ellie replied gratefully, hugging her sideways, knowing that the older midfielder wasn't so keen on physical affection.

Nevertheless, Keira was incredibly touched by the significance of the moment they were able to experience together: “You deserve to be here on the pitch again after all you’ve been through.”

“Stop it, Keira, or I'll cry”, the younger English woman warned the older one, tears of joy already forming in her blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry, don’t cry, please.”, the midfielder begged.

To save this situation, you suggested: “What about a group hug and no more tears for tonight?”

“Promise.”, Ellie said as the team hugged each other tightly to celebrate her return once more.

“Good.”, you nodded satisfied.

The wholesome moment was only interrupted by Mapis voice: “Girls? Don’t forget about the Christmas team dinner!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”, you promised as you all finally started to let go of Ellie again.

The blonde goalkeeper smiled: “Yes, I will convince Keira to join us.”

Her lionesses teammate cringed at that: “I hate Christmas parties.”

“But you love me, so…”, Ellie blinked at her innocently.

Keira knew she couldn’t disagree so she just groaned: “Ugh.”

“Count us all in.”, you laughed before you all started heading towards the dressing room to change. One by one, they all started to leave the stadium until only Mapi and Ingrid were left.

“Ingrid, you noticed that earlier too, right?”, Mapi asked impatiently, once the door fell shut behind Irene.

The Norwegian nodded: “Of course, amor.”

A smile spread on the Spanish defenders face: “I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

Mapi just shook her head with a conspiratorial smile: “You will see. Let’s go buy some mistletoes for the Christmas dinner.”

“Mistletoes? I think I know what you have planned now.”

“It’s the season of love after all.”, Mapi winked.

“And we saw that they almost kissed on the pitch.”, Ingrid added.

“Exactly. Now let’s go, we have to prepare everything.”

When you arrived at Mapis and Ingrids apartment, the Christmas party had already started. Most of your teammates were already there, standing in the middle of the room with drinks in hand. It looked like Mapi and Ingrid had to move some of their furniture to accommodate the number of football players they hosted.

You immediately spotted Ellie standing to the side, talking to Kika.

“Hi.”, you greeted your teammates.

The goalkeeper quickly pulled you into a hug: “Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thank you. I love your outfit.”, you replied politely but truthfully.

“Thank you.”, Ellie smiled back. “Who hung up all those mistletoes?”

You followed Ellie's gaze to the ceiling, where sprigs of mistletoe hung at regular intervals.

“Mapi? Ingrid?”, you suggested with a shrug but you also couldn’t hide how impressed you were with their decorations. They really went all out for the Christmas dinner.

As if she had been waiting for it, Mapi appeared on your side with a smirk: “Oh, don’t you two know what tradition wants from you?”

“We do but we’re not standing under one.“, Ellie replied laughing.

You nodded in agreement: “Exactly.“

Mapi raised one eyebrow at both of you: “At least you know, in case you find yourselves under one.“

Keira stood with her back to the wall, studying the parasitic plants above her with wide eyes: “I’ll make sure I won’t move for the entire evening to avoid standing underneath them then!”

“And how are you going to get your food?”, Ellie asked, her warm laughter filling the air.

The English midfielder replied with an embarrassed smile: “Well.”

“I can bring you some.”, the goalkeeper offered then gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Thank you,’ Keira muttered, incredibly grateful for their friendship, which has lasted since their time together at Manchester City. 

Still smiling the blonde answered: “You’re welcome.”

“When’s the dinner ready? I’m getting hungry?”, Kika changed the topic swiftly.

“It should be done by now.”, Mapi and her girlfriend quickly left their seats and went into the kitchen to fetch the festive meal that everyone was waiting for. Inside there was a buffet there every guest could get what the heart desired.

Just outside the door, the Spaniard stopped and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy expression on her face. With a mischievous grin on her lips the defender added: “Oh, look, Ingrid. A mistletoe right above us.”

Ingrid’s green eyes lit up with amusement: “You’re such a dork, Maria.”, the Norwegian mumbled into the older woman’s ear before kissing her despite the teasing comment.

 “You love it.”, Mapi observed confidently.

Her younger girlfriend admitted: “Maybe a little bit.”

“Want to get some food too?”, Ellie turned her face towards you beaming.

You nervously push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before answering: “I do, but the mistletoe.”

“We can avoid them.”, the blonde offered conspiratorially with a wink.

“How boring!”, Mapi threw in.

 Ignoring her teammate's words, Ellie stood up and took your hand as you followed her: “Come on.”

“You can go first and then I’ll follow you. Oh, uhm sorry.”, you apologized with heated cheeks while you stumbled into the goalkeeper who caught you without a problem, but now the mistletoe was hanging right above you, waiting for the next act to unfold.

You both didn't see that Keira was the one who was inconspicuously pushing you. Later in the evening the midfielder would explain her reasoning behind it to bring you figural speaking closer together.

In the present moment Keira waved it off nonchalantly: “Don’t worry about it.”

“‘Well, you know the tradition, I guess we...”, began Ellie, her cheeks colouring slightly pink as she felt all her teammates’ eyes on the two of you.

A gentle reminder came from your lips: “I mean no one’s forcing us to.”

“I’m aware of that, but what if I want to do it.” Much to your own surprise, she made this quiet confession, which rekindled the sparks between them.

“Maybe, I want it too.”, you agreed flustered.

A shy smile spread on Ellies face: “Close your eyes.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, waiting patiently for what would happen next. You almost flinched when Ellies lips lowered down on yours with the softest touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes, in case she might stop.

Only when Ellie finally pulled back after what felt like minutes, you finally blinked and found yourself too close to her face. She studied you in anticipation but you had no words except for: “Oh wow.”

“That was…”, Ellie started, clearly unsure how to put her own feelings into words.

“Absolutely delicious. Can I have another taste?”, you asked with an innocent smile.

The goalkeeper nodded happily: “Yes, maybe in the kitchen without all those eyes staring at us?”

You couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay.”, you agreed and followed her into the kitchen, ignoring all the other mistletoes on your way.

“Ellie, don’t forget my plate!”, Keira called after the two of you.

The goalkeeper shrugged and continued her way: “Sorry, I have to go.”

Keira pouted from the other side of the room: “Rude.”

“Young love, what are you going to do about it, right?”, Mapi grinned as she joined the midfielder leaning against the wall.

Ingrid appeared on Keiras other side, handing her a drink: “Thanks for your help, Keira. They really needed that push in the right direction.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kika held a plate out to her: “Here, Keira.You can have a bit of my food so you don’t have to starve because of those two lovebirds.”

“Thanks, Kika.”, Keira smiled, gratefully accepting the offered food.

“No worries.“

While your teammates stood outside gossiping, you and Ellie were alone in the kitchen. Every surface was covered with food or bottles but you didn’t mind. It was just you and her and no one else.

“So when did you first-…”, you started but stopped immediately when you realized that Ellie said the same thing at the same time.

“No, you go first.”, she insisted.

You cleared your throat before replying: “I’m not sure when it was. But I like your vibe and how positive you are even with everything going on.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I just have so much… love and respect for you.”

“And I loved that you didn’t pity me. You just welcomed me with open arms. And I like that you don’t hate it when I take photos of everything and that you’re able to just enjoy the moment as it is.”, Ellie answered, surprisingly passionately.

“You’re so sweet, Ellie.”

You watched her face suddenly light up with a smug smile: “And you know what they say about me. I’m a keeper.”

The joke came so unexpected that you started to giggle: “Then I’d like to keep you in my life.”

It was Mapi who softly knocked against the kitchen doorframe to receive both of your attention. “Hey, just letting you two amantes know that we’ll start playing games soon.”, she informed you with a wide grin on her lips.

Ellie quickly promised: “We’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect.”, the Spaniard nodded in satisfaction.

Innocently, you placed a finger under the taller woman’s chin so that she had to look into your eyes when you said: “You know, Ellie, I think there’s another mistletoe right above us.”

“Looks like I’ve to kiss you again.”, the goalkeeper replied happily.

Her lips felt incredibly soft against yours as they met in a tender kiss.  Warming both of your hearts on a cold December evening.  

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[kingofbodyrolls]

Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Namjoon fic recs

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄

As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last; a rec list ✨ This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many Namjoon stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list so that’s why they’re included ✨

A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.

Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜

[Bangtan Christmas ‘24 masterlist] Note: the stories that I sadly didn’t get to read are marked with *.

⭐Sweet Company @remedyx [4.4k]  ⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k] ⭐My Only Wish @ppersonna [15.1k] ⭐Mistletoe @belovedkingx [9.3k] ⭐Good Neighbor @sugaurora [0.7k] ⭐Holiday in Shambles @ressjeon [5k] ⭐Dirty Little Secret @nottodayjjk [10.4k] ⭐Oh Christmas Tree @bangtanfancamp [10.8k] ⭐Sprouting Love @/kingofbodyrolls [13.7k] ⭐Not Another Holiday Romance @kpopfanfictrash [32.2k] ⭐Under the Mistletoe @btsgotjams27 [1.3k] ⭐Mistletoe @belovedkingx [9.3k] ⭐All I Want for Christmas is Joon @leahsfavefics [N/A] ⭐The Snow Globe Effect* @gukyi [10k] ⭐Coal in your Stocking* @hamsterclaw [6k] ⭐Noel on Ice* @bangtan-madi [16k] ⭐Santa Baby* @peekaboongi [1.6k] ⭐Won’t You Ride My Sleigh Tonight?* @jkeuphoriadreamland [N/A] ⭐The Christmas Party* @dreamescapeswriting [4.4k] ⭐Snow Angel* @joonbird [1.5k] ⭐Santa Baby* @jjungkookislife [2.3k] ⭐Merry Kissmass* @taleasnewastime [10.3k] ⭐Fine Line* @angelguk [6.7k] ⭐Brightside* @lavienjin [8k] ⭐Better not Pout* @apotatomashedbybts [5.1k] ⭐All I Want for Christmas is…Who?* @ggukcangetit [3.7k] ⭐Midnight Wishes* @ddaenggtan [10.3k] ⭐Wrapped Up in You* @solastia [1k] ⭐Under the Mistletoe* @11-ish [2.2k] ⭐Please, Santa* @floralseokjin [6.1k] ⭐Are You Comfortable with This?* @army-author [2.9k] ⭐Christmas Alone* @joonthighs [7.6k] ⭐Until You Make It* @versigny [8k] ⭐Last Christmas* @jjungkookislife [16.5k] ⭐It’s December (and I Still Want You)* @smoochkooks [16.7k] ⭐Don’t Care about the Presents* @hobibliophile [6.2k] ⭐Wrapped Together* @lemonjoonah [18k] ⭐Once Upon an Us* @yoonia [47k]

I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.

If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨

Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.

With all my love, and borahae always 💜

[accio-victuuri]

merry christmas to us turtles, my gift to you is this clowning post for yibo’s new song ( i am not here ) concept poster. of course, we have multiple cpns already with this material alone. lol. i’m sure we will know more when the track is released and other bts stuff. reminder to enjoy the song & if it’s cpn leaning or not doesn’t really matter. we are here to support yibo and this is his yearly “gift” to fans 🎁

as with xz’s we album art, our minds immediately went to the cql connection. it’s too easy! this is because the chinese title is 我在 which is i’m here but the english title and what’s on the poster is i am not here ( possible explanation of why this happens is at the end of this post ). it could be that these two lines are in the song — anyway, the “i am here” is something that lwj said 🥹🥹🥹🥹

in the novel, this has more weight and makes me wanna scream actually 😭😭😭😭

i will just include here the part/s in the novel that people are referencing:

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian called out. Lan Wangji’s breathing wasn’t as steady as it usually was—it was slightly short, probably from overexerting himself in hand-to-hand combat while carrying Wei Wuxian on his back. However, the tone with which he answered him had the same steadiness he’d always possessed, and it was still that word: “Mn.” After that, he added, “I’m here.” Hearing those two words, a feeling Wei Wuxian had never felt before spread into his heart. It was like an ache. His heart throbbed a little, but it was also a little warm

LAN ZHAN…” Wei Wuxian murmured. He reached out and grabbed one of Lan Zhan’s sleeves. Lan Wangji, who had been keeping watch by his side, immediately leaned over to answer him softly. “I am here.”

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian mumbled. Everyone was overjoyed, thinking he was about to wake up, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes remained tightly shut. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, looked as he usually did. “Mn. I am here.”Wei Wuxian said nothing else. He nuzzled against Lan Wangji, as if feeling safe and reassured, and continued to sleep.

The moment Wei Wuxian heard the dog, his hair immediately stood on end and he shrank into Lan Wangji’s embrace. Scared completely out of his wits, he cried out. “Lan Zhan!” Lan Wangji already knew to hold him. “Mn!” he assured him. “I am here!” “Hold me!” Wei Wuxian pleaded. “I am!” Lan Wangji replied. “Hold me tight!” Wei Wuxian then specified. “I am!” Lan Wangji confirmed.

and if you think about it— this is what wyb is to xz. he is there. even when is not there physically, he is. and vice versa 🫶🏼

plus the photo of yibo with his eyes closed, similar to lwj. personally, it’s making me so jealous of his eyebrows again 😤😤😤😤

fans are also going back to that one post of xz that said i’m here, good night! and when you connect that to the goodnight song that we think is a bjyx inspired track. and now yibo releases i’m here.

if you wanna clown some more, you can say that wyb’s song is sort of an answer to goodnight. cause xz’s more about not being with that person physically but he cherishes the goodnight they share with each other at the end of the day. and wyb is saying i’m here / i’m not here. ybo’s caption for the teaser is “Close your eyes and the colors of the world bloom in your heart. The distant blur and the real reunion at hand.”

so it’s a reunion? being together after some time apart? Close your eyes? Sleep and you will see me there cause i’m in your heart too. but don’t worry, we will be together soon.

I SWEAR. 😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO THIS TYPE OF DESIGN:

and how their song titles have two characters. we and i’m here. it goes well together.

and pretty much like how hu ge used “we/us” in his caption before. the same happened with this track. what a coincidence! 👀👀👀👀

Lastly, i found someone explaining why there is a difference in the direct translation. We had experience with this in GG’s songs form his wo men album. In the same way that the english titles of Chinese movies almost always is not the direct translation.

If the Chinese name is "I’m here” and the English name is "I am not here", this may be due to the following reasons:

1. Cultural differences and artistic conception: When Chinese and English express the same concept, they often have different language styles and cultural backgrounds. Sometimes Chinese names may focus on conveying a certain kind of meaning & artistic conception or emotion, while English names are more direct or have reverse meanings. For example, the Chinese name "I am" may convey a sense of presence or some kind of presence. The English name "I am not here" may be intended to express an emotion or theme of absence.

2. The double meaning of the work: It is possible that this work focuses on a certain theme (such as existence, positioning, presence) in Chinese, but in English it uses negative sentences. The expression conveys the opposite meaning, thereby creating a certain sense of contrast or suspense. This naming scheme may be intended to pique the interest of viewers or readers and encourage them to explore the work and the deep meaning behind it.

3. Translation strategy: Sometimes in order to adapt to the habits and aesthetics of different language markets, translation will take a certain degree of freedom. The translator may think that the English "I am not "here" can better capture the essence of the original work in a certain context or can more effectively resonate with English audiences.

4. Difference in context; if "I Am" is a contrasting or symbolic name, then the English name "i am not here" may be related to the content of the story. For example, a character may not be physically present, but still "exist" or "affect" the story on other levels.

In short, the differences between Chinese and English titles may be due to differences in language and culture, or may be due to the creator or translator's attempt to better convey the theme or introduction of the story. A choice made based on the curiosity of the audience.

There is also this interpretation:

The philosophy of "presence" and "absence" of emotions:

The combination of the two can also be understood as a philosophical reflection on presence and absence. "I’m here" can be seen as a declaration and guarantee of love, meaning that even if you are not together in a space, two people can still perceive each other mentally and rely on each other; and "I am not here" faces the physical absence in reality and is an emotion.

Self-expression on the Internet means that although you are not in front of the other person, you are still with them in your heart. It symbolizes the silent understanding and spiritual bond between long-distance lovers. Even if they cannot always appear in each other's lives, their hearts will always be with them.

Resonance in long-distance relationships:

Summary:

For couples in long-distance relationships, "I Am Here" may be the singer's promise to his lover - "I am here, no matter where you are"; while "I am not here" It is to Acknowledge the difficulties and helplessness of reality, "Although I am no longer with you, I still care about you." The two combine to express the unique experience of long-distance love: between love and absences, there are both firm commitment and deep longing and helplessness.

The combination of "I am here " and "I am not here" shows the emotional tension in long-distance relationships. Together they express a profound emotional state: that of being physically. We are not together physically, but our emotional and spiritual connection is strong. "I am here” represents deep love and firm commitment, while "I am not here" is a positive statement.

Acknowledging the sense of distance and absence in long-distance relationships. Together, they convey a sense of emotional persistence and acceptance of distance from reality, while also demonstrating that even in absence, Love still exists and is still real.

The Chinese and English names of this song are not only a true portrayal of the emotion of long-distance love, but also express the two aspects of love - persistence and absence, presence and loss, embodying the duality in long-distance relationships. No matter where we are, our hearts will always find each other.

THIS IS ALL GUESSWORK/CLOWNING. The title could change. There could be a completely different meaning than we think. It’s still so early but this is what’s fun with being a turtle and doing cpn <3 don’t take it seriously! Again, what’s important is we will get a new song! 🙌🏼

source/s

[legalmente-loca]

OKAY COULD YOU DO #1 WITH SOLDIER BOY BUT WITH LIKE A LOT SMUT..?? ALSO CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERSSSSS

Christmas At Vought

Prompts: You dressing like a cowgirl

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You and Ben have a relationship in the shadows, even if he doesn't agree with it. Will he be able to resist you in disguise at Christmas?

Word Count: 1,623

A/N: Oh, darling, I couldn't just make a drabble of this

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, cowgirl inverted, dirty talk, language

You and Ben had a complicated relationship. In fact, according to everyone else, you didn't have any kind of relationship other than professional. You hid your relationship knowing that Vought wouldn't approve. After all, he was with Crimson Countess for popularity reasons. But you didn't have powers. You worked at Vought as the director's secretary and interacted with superheroes, but what would the fans of the first hero think when they saw that he were dating someone inferior to him?

So the two of you had a discreet relationship, in the shadows. Whenever you could (and even when you couldn't) you would sneak out to mess up your hair and clothes.

But it wasn't enough for Ben. Ben wanted to show ownership over you, to place his hand on your ass so that others knew you belonged to him and kiss you whenever he wanted, without worrying about who was watching.

But that was how things had to be.

It was normal for Vought to have parties every month, each with a different theme. This time, for Christmas, Vought had decided to have them dress up as a bygone era, so you didn’t think twice.

You had dressed up as a cowgirl, a checkered shirt with ripped jean shorts and a belt that held a fake gun. You also wore a cowboy hat.

“Well, look who came as a sexy cowgirl.”

You recognized the voice and turned to look at him. Obviously the great Soldier Boy would come as he wanted without respecting the theme. He simply came in his hero uniform, helmet included.

“Soldier Boy-”

“You know you can call me Ben, gorgeous.” He smiled charmingly and walked over to you, looking you up and down openly.

You sighed and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Ben, you know they can’t see us in public.”

“And you think I care about that?” He moved closer to you and pretended to look around as he whispered in your ear. “I could touch your entire body dressed in that tight outfit and I still wouldn’t fuckin’ care.”

You cleared your throat and turned to look at him.

“You need to control yourself, don’t make a scene.” You murmured.

“But you know I love to make them.”

He ran a finger down your arm, his body radiating heat and burning your skin.

“Ben…”

“Honey…”

You sighed and glanced around. It was a difficult task to resist Ben.

“Listen, later we’ll do whatever you want, but for now, let’s stay away from each other.”

He growled and placed his hand on your lower back possessively.

“I want you now.”

“Well you won’t have me.”

“Who fucking says?”

“Me.”

You pushed him away and started walking, knowing Ben was watching your every step.

An hour passed. Conversations surrounded you and the sound of Christmas carols was low. The whole place was well decorated, well, you had been a part of decorating. And Ben had often come to “help” you.

You had passed him a few times, but he didn’t even look at you. Maybe that was your punishment or maybe he had decided to listen to you for the first time (it was probably the first one).

You were chatting with some other people when he came in, drink in hand.

“Hey, folks.” He said as he patted your coworker on the shoulder, almost knocking his arm out of place.

“S-soldier Boy.”

It was very common for people to turn to look at him whenever he walked into a room. The attention was only on him and everyone wanted to get close to him if he was in a good mood. If he wasn’t, no one wanted to be around.

“Having a good time?” He asked with a smile.

“Very good, sir.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

The conversation continued, your coworkers clearly pleased to be talking to America’s great hero. But at one point, Ben stepped forward and tripped, the contents of his drink falling on your shirt. You gasped and looked at him in annoyance.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, doll.” He grabbed your own cup and quickly passed it to one of your companions before grabbing your arm, not giving you two seconds to think that he was already pulling you away. “Come, I’ll help you get all cleaned up.”

He led you to the bathrooms and immediately pinned you against the door as he took off his helmet and threw it across the room.

“Ben!”

“I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore, talking to other people like you don’t want me to fuck you right there.”

His movements were quick and unexpected (in part). He grabbed your breasts through your clothes and squeezed them, making you moan and arch your back.

But he didn’t even have time to look at you naked. He needed you right now.

He grabbed your arm again and dragged you to the bathroom sinks, sitting on the counter and placing you on his lap with your back to him.

“Since you’re dressed like a cowgirl whore, act like one.” He undid your belt and pulled down your shorts along with your panties and pressed his mouth against the side of your neck. “All this time, watching you like this, imagining you riding me until your thighs ached.”

He grabbed your legs and had your feet placed on top of his knees. He moved his hand to your pussy and began to caress your folds.

“God, Ben...”

He kept moving his fingers, teasing your hole before slipping one in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, cowgirl. But it’s not time to take pleasure, it’s time to fucking give it.” He pulled off the bottom of his suit, his cock springing out, big and wet at the tip. “Now, ride me like it’s your fuckin’ job.”

He helped you up slightly, placing his hands on your ass, helping you down afterwards. Your eyes rolled as you felt his cock enter your pussy, your toes curling in pleasure.

“You like this big cock, cowgirl?” He murmured against your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “C’mon, get started.” He growled, slapping your clit.

Your hips rocked and you felt more fluid between your legs. The position you were in only caused your insides to stretch further.

You began to move up and down, your hands resting on him to help you.

“Feel so good, Ben.” You let out a sigh.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but continued with your movements. “Are you a good cowgirl, babe? Can you ride a good, big horse like me?”

His gaze was locked on the globes of your ass, one hand squeezing your flesh. Your juices were running down his cock and you began to feel your orgasm approaching, leading you to move faster on him.

You heard a countdown in the distance.

“Fuck, it’s almost Christmas and I’ve got a cowgirl on me.” He slapped your ass and you gasped.

“Y-you’re so filthy... I’d rather you kept your mouth shut.”

“Oh, yeah?” He held your jaw, turning your face to look at him. “You love it when I talk dirty to you. And the fact that you’re moving like a sex addict fucking proves it.”

The countdown was at five and you kept your gaze on him. You didn’t even move your gaze or close your eyes when his fingers began to play with your clit roughly. Your legs threatened to close, but due to the position you were in that wasn’t possible. And it was there, the moment the countdown hit zero, that you came. Your insides tightened around him as a wave of pleasure flooded your body and your juices wet Ben’s cock even more. For his part, he brought his mouth to yours and kissed you fiercely as his cum shot out inside you.

“Merry fucking Christmas.” He snorted after a few seconds.

“Same here.” Your breathing was ragged and slowly returning to normal as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“You know what? If I knew this was my Christmas present, I would have wrapped you up and put a fucking bow over your pussy and a cowgirl hat on your head.”

“Oh, God…” You rolled your eyes and lifted your head. “Gross.”

“What? You know you’d love it if I tied you up in Christmas lights like a fucking Christmas tree and spread my cum all over your face.”

“Enough of this dirty talk.” You said as you stood up as best you could and climbed off of him, your legs shaking as soon as your feet hit the ground.

He snorted and stood up, putting his suit back in place as he gave you a look up and down.

“What?” You asked as you noticed his gaze.

“Oh, nothing, I just would love to see you even more in that costume, even with the stain.”

“Well, maybe I will do it for New Years. But only if you’re a good boy.” You pointed at him.

He frowned and slapped your hand, moving closer to you.

“I’ll be a bad man who will give a pretty cowgirl a good beating if she doesn’t do what he says.” He muttered close to your face.

You bit your bottom lip and tilted your head.

“Alright…”

He smirked and slapped your ass before bending down to pull your shorts back into place. You felt Ben’s cum spread across your shorts and you shifted uncomfortably. He stood up straight and patted your cheek.

“Good girl.”

He left a kiss on your cheek which he smacked before exiting the bathroom.

“This costume won't last.” You muttered before rearranging your mind and clothes and exiting the bathroom as well.

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[hxnbi]

hi!! I love your writing :). I wanted to request an angst to fluff scenario where reader likes the boy and confesses to him but he turns her down, but then he later regrets it and comes back?? and they live happily ever after??? i don’t really have any specific preferences other than that but im such a sucker for rejecting and regretting/she falls first he falls harder scenarios!! im using her/she to refer to the reader rn but i dont have any preference, just not sure how else to write it haha id love if you could include suo, togame, and umemiya but totally up to you :).

hey so thanks sm for your request! i loved writing this and with these boys, tho umemiya's does end on a pretty angsty note with how i was initially drafting it. i hope thats okay ♡

confessions, rejections, and regrets

⸻ °♡⃘ . you confess to the boy you liked, only to be rejected. or so you think, as, unbeknownst to you, he was battling his own feelings, too afraid to admit his love, up until he finally finds the courage to stand before you once again. but this time, it was him who would be begging for your heart.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Suo Hayato

Tears. All you could feel dripping from your face and down your cheeks was the salty aftermath of your own tears. And standing before you, the boy who had just rejected you.

"I'm sorry, I just don't see you in that light," Suo, with his hands firmly placed in front of the other, repeated, further breaking your heart into a million pieces.

Pitifully, you laughed—but little humour was found in the dreary quiet of your heart. "I know," you whispered, choking down the ache that was your confession to the person you'd grown to admire and love.

The pain lingered with every thought—that Suo was simply just too good for you, but so did your respect for him. Even if you tried your hardest to do so, you just couldn't find it in yourself to dislike him. 

Suo had always been kind, even as he rejected you.

That was part of why you liked him so much in the first place. Even if it hurt, you couldn't blame him for having such feelings about you that just weren't the same. You couldn't continue to be selfish.

"I know. Just, thank you, for hearing me out," you said, your voice becoming surprisingly steady, slowly accepting what you heard. "That's just the kind of person you are."

And then you walked away. You refused to let him see the fresh tears welling up in your eyes. You respected his choice. If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you couldn't force it. It had to be mutual—or nothing at all.

Days turned into weeks, and though you still felt the ache of his rejection, like with most things, you had to move on and push forward. You treated Suo the same way you treated everyone else. Although, you couldn't deny that it was rather awkward after Suo saw you well up with tears dripping down your face like a waterfall. And it didn't help that you both were friends with the Furin first years, like Kiryu and Nirei, whom you were very close to.

So, time and time again, you would avoid Suo like the plague; all the while, he seemed to watch from afar, unsure of how to bridge the gap. You were always respectful, never bitter, never clinging. It was difficult, but you refused to let your emotions tarnish your friendship or make things awkward. 

Suo, however, found himself unable to stay away. He'd initially assumed your feelings for him were just surface-level, a kind of shallow attraction to his looks, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. He only realized this when he peeled back the layers of who you were—a kind, genuine individual so far removed from the superficial affection he had imagined. And as time passed, he began to notice more—the way you treated everyone around you with the same kindness and consideration.

But over time, Suo would see you purposely trying to hide from him, all the while pretending everything was okay and nothing changed. It was saddening, in a way, how your laughter grew quieter, your gaze avoiding his, and the fun and games you two once shared together seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

But you couldn't hide from Suo forever. 

"He just doesn't like me, Nirei.”

Taking a walk around the neighbourhood that evening, following his typical routine, Suo had unknowingly overheard you talking to Nirei. And unlike his straightforward character, he continued to hide behind the wall and listen, his heart aching with every word he caught from your lips.

"It’s not that I don’t care…" you said softly to Nirei, who had asked about what had happened between you and Suo. "He rejected me, and I have to respect that. You can't have a relationship if both sides don't feel the same."

"I see... B-But do you still like him?" Nirei finally asked, twiddling his own thumbs. 

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "I do."

That conversation was what really hit him hard. That you still liked him. That maybe... he wasn't too late to come around.

"Nirei, not knowing what to say to a person who seemingly still had feelings for one of his closest friends, winced, "He'll... he'll come around," not necessarily finding the right words, but you didn't appear to mind it. Rather, you were too distracted with your own feelings.

And Suo, hidden from view, felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure why he'd been hiding in the first place, but suddenly, he couldn't bear to listen any longer. He shouldn't even be here, listening to your conversation and very obviously intruding on your privacy. 

But just before he could slip away, though, very conveniently, Sakura popped out from behind the corner. "The hell are you doing back here?" loud enough for both you and Nirei to hear and turn your heads to meet the noise—and Suo, right before your very eyes. 

Your eyes went wide in shock as you spotted Suo standing right there, seemingly who had heard everything.

"S-Suo, what are you—"

Back-and-forth looks were exchanged, and so too was the silence. Nirei and Sakura gave brief, knowing glances, and with a single look, Nirei left you two alone, much to your dismay and humiliation. 

You stood frozen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which managed to form coherent words to say to the boy who had basically just heard you confess your feelings to him once again. Nervous and fidgeting, you finally let out a sigh. "Hayat– Suo, I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I promise that I'm not going to bother you anymore. I really—"

But your words and apologies were left on deaf ears—cut off mid-sentence before Suo suddenly reached for you, his hand gently pulling you toward him. Before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, your head resting against his chest.

"I was wrong."

"…H-Huh?"

"I was so, so wrong," he muttered, grasping at the edge of your sleeve even tighter than just a second ago. "I thought you only liked me for shallow reasons, but... I've realized that I like you too. More than I ever let myself admit. And I apologize for making you wait."

You blinked, your brain going haywire, trying to comprehend every word that left his lips, but Suo only held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. When you didn't answer, he went on—whether that was for your or his own reassurance that you wouldn't be the one rejecting him this time was unclear.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to see it, but I don't want to let this go," he murmured. "I don't want to lose you." He regretted every moment of him rejecting you since that day. And if you were to be the one rejecting him this time… 

Your breath hitched at the base of your throat, disbelief seeping into your every thought. Was he serious…? The boy who had rejected you, who had caused you so much heartache, was now confessing to the very feelings you had once longed to hear.

'You make it so unfair…' you muttered. 

Part of you wanted to reject him, to make him feel how you felt after he rejected you. But deep down, you knew you couldn't find it in yourself to throw away this chance. And neither could Suo.

"I… I still like you, too."

Your voice was hardly audible, but Suo heard it loud and clear. He pulled away just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft and vulnerable. "Then let's start over."

Your lips trembled into a small smile. "Alright."

Suo leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, until Suo suddenly grabbed your hand, making you jump slightly. "Come on," he said, tugging you gently. "Let's go grab something to eat. I know of a good spot that just opened that serves your favourite food."

"W-Wait, Hayato, I thought you were on a diet?" you stammered, completely caught off guard by his change in behaviour. He had always been strict about his routine—always so disciplined, so focused. But now, he seemed different. Lighter, somehow. But that was Suo for you.

He smiled, softer this time, his eyes lovingly meeting yours. "I can't miss this opportunity to spend time with a special someone. You can't keep avoiding me forever," making your face flush crimson as his words sunk in.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Togame Jo

Shit… he shouldn't have said that.

Togame's words had slipped out before he could stop them, and the second he did, he knew he had fucked up. He cursed from under his breath, his hands already reaching out toward you as your face crumpled with hurt.

You stood there, staring at him—processing every snide word that left Togame's mouth—your chest rising and falling as if you were struggling even to breathe. He didn't mean it. He knew he didn't mean it, and he was pretty sure you knew that, too. But the damage was done, and he could see it in your eyes, the way he could see the shimmering of unshed tears ready to drip down your flushed cheeks..

"I'm sorry," Togame said immediately, his voice softening as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier. He could feel you stiffen in his hold, your hands pushing weakly against his chest, but he wasn't about to let go, not on that horrible note. 

"Let go, Jo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You made your decision. You've... I've already said enough."

But Togame wasn't listening. Not with what he just had done and said that only left him with regrets. He couldn't take it anymore. Not the sadness in your voice, not the way you tried to pull away from him like he was a stranger. No, he wasn't letting you walk away like this, not after everything you had shared. And certainly not after everything he just spat at you.

"I didn't mean it, okay?" His words were rushed, almost desperate. Togame's grip on you only tightened with time, refusing to let go even an inch. "I was stupid. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was saying, but I promise you, I'll fix this. I can't stand seeing you like this."

Your heart hurt at his words. You were utterly torn between wanting to believe him and protecting yourself from further hurt. After all, he had already said plenty… "You don't get just to say something like that and then take it back, Jo. It doesn't work like that..."

Togame's breath hitched as your words sliced the air and, in turn, his heart. His mind and body froze

That wasn't it. Not at all. He liked you. He loved you.

His rejection was but a projection of his own insecurities—that he wouldn’t be the right person for you.

But never did he think that he too didn’t want anyone else in your life, that it made his heart ache just thinking about it, the idea of someone else seeing your smile, hearing your laugh and holding the piece of your heart he so desperately longed for—that he previously had thrown away. 

He hated himself for it—hated that he’d let his fears dictate his actions, that he’d hurt the one person who made his world feel less empty.

But he couldn’t let this end here. Not like this.

"I know. But— fuck…" he said quietly, his voice breaking, cracking into incomprehensible pieces of a heartbroken sentence. His shoulders trembled as he finally loosened his rough grip on you. Although his hands still rested hesitantly on your shoulders. “I know I can’t undo what I said, but I need you to know... I was wrong. I’m so damn wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

Scrunching your face, you shook your head, gaze fixed on the ground as you tried to will away the tears that had long streamed down your face. “Why, Jo?”

Why. A simple explanation as to his stupid, idiotic, impulsive mistake was all that you wanted from him. 

His heart clenched at your words. Pure guilt tore him apart. He wished he could go back and rewind time to the moment before his insecurities took over. But he couldn’t. All he had now was this moment to make things right.

“Because I’m a coward!” 

His confession all tumbled out in a rush, unfiltered. “I’m a fucking coward.” Every word was a weight being lifted from his chest, all in hopes that you might understand might hear him out, even if it wouldn’t completely change things.  “I thought... I thought you deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t screw things up like I always do. Someone who could make you happy without dragging you into all my mess.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, for once, the honesty in his voice catching you heavily off guard. He appeared to be so unusually vulnerable, completely stripped of the bravado he usually wore like armour on his fists.

“But I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, his hands sliding down your arms as if needing a sense of reassurance that you were still with him and by his side and not a figment of his imagination. Hesitant but hopeful. “Every time I tried to push you away, it just made me want you more. And I was a complete idiot for thinking I could ever be okay without you.”

“Togame...”

“And I get it if you hate me for this,” he interrupted, all the words tumbling out of his mouth before he lost his nerve. “But I need you to know... I’m not asking for a second chanc—” he paused his sentence, before he could lose his resolve completely.“I love you. I’ve loved you all along, even when I was too scared to admit it.”

Your chest tightened. You oh-so-wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the pain, but his confession was undoing every wall you had tried to build.

“I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Just... don't walk away from me. Please. Not like this."

“.....”

“...Do you mean that?” 

Your voice was hardly audible as you looked up at him.

“More than anything.” 

Togame cupped your smaller face in his callous hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek, kissing the pain away.  “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

For the slightest moment, neither of you spoke. You could hardly hear a thing other than the sound of your breathing and the beat of his heart pressed tightly against yours. You felt his arms around you, warm and safe, and despite everything, a part of you wanted to stay right there, to believe that things could be okay. 

Then, slowly, you nodded, the smallest of smiles breaking through your tears. “I hate that you’re so good at making me believe you,” you said softly, for the first time all day, a small laugh escaped your lips. And it was heavenly. It was what he loved so much about you. 

Togame’s lips quirked up in a tentative grimace. “Does that mean… I get another shot?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you murmured, but your voice was warm, filled with the hope that maybe—just maybe—this time things could be different. "I'm not going anywhere," you finally said. "But you have to mean it this time, Jo."

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. "I do. I promise."

So, just like that, you let it go. Slowly, you relaxed in his arms, letting the weight of your sadness slip away, if only for a moment. Togame didn't let go, and neither did you.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe him. For now, that was enough.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Umemiya Hajime

"But we can still be friends!" Umemiya's voice rang out, almost too cheerful for the conversation you'd just had. He flashed you that familiar smile, oblivious to how his words felt like a punch to your chest. 

"Oh! There's actually an event at Furin soon. I know you like a good barbecue. You should join us! It'll be fun!"

You stared at him, nonblinking, and for a brief second, you couldn't believe he was serious. How could he be so, casual? He must be playing you, right...? But no, that was just how Umemiya was, as you've found him for years.

You had just poured your entire heart into him, and in return, he offered you friendship—a friendship that you already had with him for years—as if it were a consolation prize. 

But your heart ached so much, desperate for any kind of connection to him, that even the slightest bit of attention, however hollow, felt like a lifeline. So you nodded, forcing a polite smile across your face. "Yeah... sure, I'll come."

And just like that, you became that of a shadow, a close friend who laughed at his jokes, stayed by his side when he needed someone, and cheered for him during the times when you both would play video games. You were nothing more than a mere member of his Furin family. All the times you would talk and laugh together with them were great,  and even the occasional late-night hangouts. But it wasn't enough. It was never fully enough. 

Staying close to Umemyia only made you want him more, and that fact haunted you. Being so close to him yet knowing you couldn't have him the way you wanted was agony. The more time you spent around him, the more you craved his attention, but not as a friend, no, but as something more. It gnawed at you, that longing, and with each passing day, it became harder and harder to pretend. 

It wasn't just unfair to you—it was unfair to him, too. He deserved someone who wouldn't secretly hope for something more, who wouldn't keep pushing the boundary between friendship and something deeper. You knew this arrangement couldn't go on, not without tearing you apart.

So, one night, after finally gathering the courage, you decided to put an end to it. But unbeknownst to you, Umemiya wasn't doing any better either. 

Before, he never considered you more than a friend—someone who'd been there through all the ups and downs, always supportive, always kind, always you.

He never questioned the ease with which he could talk to you or the way your laughter seemed to brighten the atmosphere of any room you were in. 

So when you finally confessed to him that very day—that your feelings toward him were more than what he thought—he hadn't thought much of it beyond friendship. He didn't think it was deeper than that… not until after he turned you down.

At first, Umemiya was convinced it was the right thing to do. He told himself he didn't feel the same way. But as the days passed, those same thoughts weighed differently on him. The way you still smiled at him, still treated him the same even after his rejection—it gnawed at him. 

He started seeing the little things he hadn't noticed before. The way you always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up after a bad day, the way your eyes lingered on him for just a second too long, the way your laugh sounded like it was just for him. 

And suddenly, it wasn't just about friendship anymore.

At night, alone with his thoughts, he realized he had been wrong. So, so wrong. The feelings he'd dismissed as just a fleeting affection had grown—almost insidiously—into something he couldn't ignore. It became a constant. An ache of longing to be near you, but this time, not just as a friend, but as someone who could hold you, kiss you, call you his own. 

So when you suddenly asked for him to, and you meet up together alone after the barbeque, Umemiya's heart jumped in his chest. This was it. This was his chance to fix everything and correct his mistake, to tell you the truth, to apologize for being so dense. He was ignorant, blatant even, to one of the dearest people in the world to him. 

Tonight, he was going to do it. He was going to make it up to you by apologizing and asking for forgiveness. He was excited, hopeful even, imagining the moment when he'd pour out his heart and beg for your forgiveness. You were kind, after all. You'd understand. You had to.

He could barely contain his nerves as he waited for you, replaying his apology speech over and over in his mind. 

But when you arrived, something felt off. But Umemyia merely brushed it off as mere nerves. But then you spoke.

"I can't do this anymore."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, Umemiya's heart stopped. He forced a laugh, trying to shake off the unease creeping into his chest. "What do you mean? O-Oh! If you're talking about how Sakura was acting earlier, hah, he doesn't mean it! You know how he is, just messing around."

But you didn't smile. You didn't laugh. Your expression remained serious, and it made his stomach drop. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Umemiya, I can't do this anymore," you repeated once again, your voice breaking, trembling in a way he had never heard before. "I can't just act like nothing happened anymore. I thought that I could continue being your friend. I really tried. But... it hurts too much. Please, I—"

His heart clenched. No, no, no—this wasn't right. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to apologize, to tell you how he felt, to fix things. But now, seeing you like this, so hurt, it paralyzed him.

"Don't say it."

"Hajime, please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

No, he couldn't let you walk away. Not like this. Not when everything had finally clicked for him. Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, desperate and unplanned.

"—BUT I LOVE YOU!!"

And he said it.

The moment those words escaped his lips, everything seemed to freeze, and the silence that followed was unbearable. He watched you, waiting for some sign, some reaction that would let him know he wasn't too late. But your eyes... they were filled with so much pain, it made his heart ache even more.

You didn't speak right away, and the longer the silence stretched, the more regret began to claw at him. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Why did he wait until now, when you were standing here, on the verge of walking away, to realize how much you meant to him? His own foolishness, his blindness—it was too much to bear.

"Why now?" you finally asked. Your voice was soft, barely audible, as if you were afraid of the answer he was giving. It wasn't angry, but it wasn't hopeful either. It was aching, that desperate part of you. "Why... after everything?"

Umemiya couldn’t answer. He didn't have a good reason. He just knew that he loved you now, that he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. But he also knew that might not be enough.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hands trembling at his sides. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... I didn't know until it was too late."

The tears in your eyes broke him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He thought he'd be able to fix things, to make everything right, but now it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers.

And much to his horror, you shook your head slowly, stepping back, the distance between you growing—both physically and emotionally. "It's not fair, Hajime. You can't just say that now... not after everything."

For the first time in his life, Umemiya Hajime didn’t know what to say. He stood there, stunned, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat because, deep down, he already knew.

He didn’t have the right to ask for more when he had rejected the very thing he now realized he couldn’t live without. He had turned you away, convinced it was for the best, only to understand far too late just how much he had thrown away. His indecision—his cowardice—had led to this moment. And now, it wasn’t just his heart breaking; it was yours, too.

He opened his mouth, tried to reach for you, but his arms fell back to his sides. He couldn’t keep making excuses. He couldn’t selfishly try to pull you back, not when his own fickleness had caused you so much pain.

So he let it happen. Right before his very eyes, he watched you take another step back, your face etched with a hurt he knew he had no way of easing. And when you turned, it felt as though the entire world had slipped out of his grasp.

The streets around him blurred as he stared at the spot where you had just stood, his mind and body going through the realization that he might just never get the chance to fix this.

“Wait...” he whispered hoarsely, hand unconsciously reaching forward, but the word fell into the silence, unheard and unanswered.

And with that, you were gone, leaving him behind—alone, with but the cold remnants of his mistakes.

lol i also noticed how each just gets slowly more bittersweet to straight up angsty in umemiya's

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated ♡

[dexteri0us]

no, i don't want nothing crazy; just wanna get you alone; and all of this snow is falling; i can make you fall too

pairing: best friend's dad!dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity, harrison (listen, i'm not a fan of his, but he serves a purpose), age gap (both reader and harrison are in college), best friend's dad!dexter, smut - shower sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, dom!dexter

summary: requested: "shower sex with dexter? please and thank you 🙏🏻"

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: i honestly love new blood and i will always consider it a christmas tv. merry christmas!🎄

Spending Christmas in Iron Lake wasn’t your initial plan, but now that you thought about it, it was for the better. You were supposed to spend Christmas with your dad this year. It also included him picking you up in Iron Lake and driving you to New York, but he backed out at the last minute. You weren’t even surprised at this point; he always went out of his way to let you down. Or maybe it was just your perception. After all, he said the same thing about you.

Going to your mom’s wasn’t an option either, not with her boyfriend in the picture. He was a carbon copy of your dad, not just in appearance in attitude too. Arrogant, dismissive, and always acting like spending time with you was beneath him, especially when you were a teenager. He’d never really made an effort to connect. So, you were pretty happy to get into college and move into the dorms. But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to spend Christmas alone.

You couldn’t ask Harrison to take you either because he had plans with Audrey.  

“Fuck.” You muttered, reading the text from your dad.  

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked, glancing up from across the table. A smudge of clung to the corner of his mouth as he took another bite of his cheeseburger, his eyes briefly scanning the diner for a waitress that would bring him another cup of coffee.

“Dad bailed on me. I’ll probably have to hitchhike to get to New York.”

“What? No way! I’ll drive you,” he said immediately.

“Harrison.” You gave him a look. “You promised Audrey to help her and Angela with the charity drive.”

“Out of all people, I think Angela and Audrey would understand.” 

You raised a brow at him, knowing full well he’d argue until he was blue in the face, but you weren’t about to let him ruin his plans because of you. You were big on keeping promises, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason someone broke theirs.

“Well, you can always spend Christmas with us. My dad won’t mind.”

And that’s how you ended up swapping the couch for the bed with Harrison every night, spending the first of many Christmas breaks with the Morgans. Well, technically the Morgan-Lindsays, but to you, Harrison’s dad would always be Mr. Morgan.

When you first called him that, he just stared at you, almost startled, but Harrison had quickly jumped in to explain. Not to you, to his dad, that you just couldn’t get used to the difference in their last names. He seemed to relax a little after that, though he still looked kind of stiff most of the time.

Sometimes, you wondered if he didn’t like you, or if your presence made him uneasy. But Harrison had reassured you that he was always like that. He’s just weird like that. Don’t take it personally.

So, you didn’t. And truth be told, over the next Christmases you spent with the father-son duo, you became more comfortable around Mr. Morgan – or Jim, as he insisted on calling him. “Jim” just felt unnatural to you, so usually, you just settled for “hey” to get his attention. But every now and then, “Mr. Morgan” would slip out of your mouth. And truth be told, you thought he liked it.

Eventually, it would become like a running joke between you two.

One night, during your second Christmas in Iron Lake, you caught him with that amused smile on his face when you said it again.

“What?” You asked, passing him a plate to dry as the two of you cleaned up after dinner. Harrison was in the other room, button-mashing his way through a video game.

“What?” Mr. Morgan asked, glancing at you with mock confusion.

“Every time I call you Mr. Morgan, you look like you’re holding back some big inside joke.”

“Do I?” he said lightly, his brows furrowed, but the smirk formed by his lips didn’t falter.

“Yeah.” You snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing. “It’s weird.”

“Weird? I’ll have to talk to Harrison, he’s bad influence.”

You just rolled your eyes. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You had developed almost a feet-kicking crush on him and his teasing wasn’t helping. You felt like a little girl with a silly crush on her classmate.

You remember how reserved he had been, intense, when you met him for the first time. It had made you a little bit uncomfortable, but paradoxically, you preferred that to some pretense-interest in your life. He already knew about your situation with your dad and your mother – or more specifically, with her boyfriend.

You loved Harrison, but he kind of had a big mouth on him, and he had told his dad. You could tell from the way Mr. Morgan avoided the subject altogether. Honestly, it was refreshing. Audrey’s mom asked about your parents every year – polite but a bit probing, sometimes you felt like she was judging you and or maybe thought there was more to the story. You didn’t blame her, though. First, she was a cop, and second, they were your family, after all. At least, by blood.

Still, you felt more welcome here than you ever did with your parents. Mr. Morgan made it so easy too, even if things had been a little awkward at first.

The first Christmas you spent in Iron Lake, you ended up in the woods with Mr. Morgan, collecting firewood. Harrison made sure you felt comfortable being alone with him, and you did, it was just a little awkward.

You didn’t know what was weirder – spending Christmas in Iron Lake, or trudging into the woods along with your best friend’s dad. He didn’t exactly scream “festive cheer” with his quiet, no-nonsense demeanor.

Harrison had once told you that he wasn’t always like that. Apparently, there had been some kind of hunting accident, back when Harrison was learning how to shoot. He’d hit his dad, barely missing the heart, but he'd survived. Harrison described it as a Christmas miracle, but from that moment on, Mr. Morgan just hadn’t felt the need to celebrate Christmas like he had the years prior.

You watched him move through the snowy woods with certainty, like he already knew exactly which trees to check for fallen branches.

“So, uh… you do this every year?”

Nice. Real charming. You were a master in manipulating professors into extending deadlines. How are you so bad at making casual conversation?

“Pretty much,” he replied without looking up, crouching to grab a branch half-buried in the snow. “Wood-burning stove keeps the place warm. It’s more reliable than the heater.”

“Oh.” You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. The cool air bit into your cheeks, your boots crunching in the snow as you followed a few steps behind. Then you tried again. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d be big on central heating.”

You tried to joke, but he stopped for a moment, straightening up and glancing at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “What kind of guy do I strike you as?”

“Well, you know.” You shrugged, trying to not get distracted by the joke going over his head. “The ‘off-the-grid cabin’ type. Knows his way around a woodchipper. Probably has a couple of tarps in the trunk, just in case.”

He watched you, probably waiting for a smile to crack, but your expression remained serious. You started to think maybe you’d gone too far. But then he finally snorted softly, pointing the branch in your direction.

“Tarps are versatile.”

His delivery was deadpan too, so dry it caught you off guard. Was that… a joke? You couldn’t tell, but you let out a laugh anyway. You decided to just role with it.

“Right. For winter emergencies.”

He didn’t respond, just gave a faint nod as he tossed another branch onto the sled you’d brought along.

“You’re doing fine,” he said after a moment, his tone surprisingly reassuring.

It made you scoff, your breath puffing in the cold air.

“Thanks Mr. Morgan, I was really worried about failing Firewood 101.”

You really enjoyed spending time with him like that, even though he didn’t talk much. But the way he adjusted his pace so you wouldn’t fall behind, stepped on a stick that was stubbornly stuck to the sole of your boot, or helped you with a stubborn log trapped under the snow made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

When that Christmas break ended, you felt kind of bittersweet, because you knew you’d now see him only occasionally when he’d visit Harrison in New York. That is, if you were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. But the year went by like nothing, and lo and behold, Harrison had invited you to spend another Christmas with them, saying that his dad brought it up first. To Harrison, it meant nothing, to you? Every-fucking-thing.

So now, during the second Christmas with the Morgans, you were doing domestic shit with him, like washing dishes while he was teasing you. It made your body all jittery with every passing moment. Hell, you didn’t even mind that he didn’t have a dishwasher, because you liked doing dishes with him. And Harrison was grateful for that too. See, everyone was getting something out of it.

“Maybe I just think it’s funny. You’re so committed to it. But I guess it’s better than calling me hey.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Okay, you brought that on yourself. No offense, but Jim just doesn’t suit you. It’s too basic.”

He had that faint smile on his face again, his eyelids dropped as if he was having a whole inner monologue again, but you didn’t call him out this time.

When that Christmas ended, you didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Harrison started inviting you to every holiday – Easter, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Of course, you couldn’t make it to all of them, but you did appreciate the extra time you got to spend with Mr. Morgan. He’d even helped you, Harrison and Audrey move them into their new apartment in New York. And you were too naïve and paranoid, so you thought he was doing it all for you.

So, next Christmas, you decided to come prepared.

“You can’t give her another necklace. Try to be original,” you said, sipping on your coffee, watching Harrison rub his temples as he tried to think of a Christmas present for Audrey.

“Okay… okay.” He sighed, letting his hands fall to the table, grinding his teeth as if he was contemplating his thoughts. “I have an idea. But it’s big and you’re gonna laugh.”

“Okay. All the more reason why you should tell me.”  

He took a deep breath, and then, he spit it out.

“I bought her a ring. An engagement ring.”

Your eyes widened and your lips broke into a huge smile. “No fucking way. Are you fucking kidding?”

“See? I knew you were gonna laugh at me.” He rolled his eyes and fell back into his seat, crossing his arms like a child.

“I’m not laughing at you. That’s amazing, Harrison. Oh, my God.”

“But?”

You stayed silent for a moment, figuring out a way to put it gently. “But… Audrey hates clichés.”

He closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Fuck.”

“No, hey. You can propose to her, but maybe don’t make it the main thing, you know.”

He sighed, rising to his feet with a small scowl on his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I’m so happy for you two. And she will be too.”

You exchanged smiles before he made his exit. You leaned against the back of the seat and looked out of the window to your right side, still smiling. You wondered if Mr. Morgan and Angela knew.

You got back to the crossword puzzle you put under your plate, munching on the bagel to fill your stomach and enjoying the faint Christmas music playing from the speakers. The waitress had just refilled your cup when someone slid into the booth across from you.

At first, you didn’t look up, assuming it was Harrison again, maybe realizing he’d forgotten something. But when you finally glanced up, you were met with a face you hadn’t expected.

“Morning,” the man said, his voice smooth and polite. It made you sit up just a little bit straighter.

“Uh, morning.” You smiled back.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” he continued, leaning forward just slightly. “I’m Kurt. Kurt Caldwell.” He extended a hand across the table, his palm up.

You introduced yourself, putting your hand into his. You’d heard about Mr. Caldwell. They’d said he was a very kind and fair employer, someone who took care of his own. But after his son's death, he'd vanished from the public eye for a while.

For such a small town, there was sure a lot of accidents. Tragedies. On the brighter side, the number of of missing women cases dropped in the past few years, so that's that.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, just visiting,” you said with a smile but remained cautious. After all, he was a stranger. And you’re not one to underestimate the stranger danger rule. Not even in a small community like this.

“Really? We don’t have many visitors this time of year, Christmas tends to keep people close to home. You staying with family?”

“Friends,” you corrected.

“That’s nice. It’s always good to have people you can rely on during the holidays.”

You offered him another polite smile, unsure of what to say. He seemed harmless, but people randomly coming up to you were instantly weird to you. Welcome to a small town.

“You know, if you’re looking for something to do while you’re in town, I run a little truck stop just outside the main strip. Got a great diner there, too, and we’re always looking for friendly faces to stop by. First meal’s on me.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” you replied, laughing with him.

You pretended to get back to your puzzle, hoping he’d leave you alone, but before he could say anything else, the bell above the diner’s door jingled, and you heard your name.

You turned to see Mr. Morgan standing in the doorway, his presence commanding. He scanned the booth, his eyes landing on Kurt before flicking to you.

“Oh, hi.” You waved awkwardly at him as you watched him stride towards your table.

“Harrison forgot his gloves,” he told you, even though his gaze was locked on Kurt.

“Oh, right. I’ll text him.” You grabbed your phone, completely oblivious to the silent standoff happening between Mr. Morgan and Mr. Caldwell.

Mr. Caldwell stood, his smile losing some of its warmth. “Well, I should get going. It was nice to meet you, YN. Hope I’ll see you around.”

You gave him a polite nod and with that, he turned and walked out of the diner.

Mr. Morgan waited until the door closed behind him before he finally spoke.

“You okay?”

You hit send and looked up.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Just checking.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, grabbing the empty sugar packet on the table and crumpling it in his hand. “But next time, maybe stick to sitting with people you actually know.”

This time, his tone was firm, almost scolding. You blinked at him, taken aback by this side of him. Now that you thought about it, you had never seen him pissed. And you didn’t know how to react. Your muscle memory took over for you, feeling the need to get defensive.

“Okay… I wasn’t – he just sat down. I didn’t –”

“Finish your breakfast. I’ll drive you back.” He interrupted, glancing out the window one more time as he watched Kurt’s truck disappear down the road.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he was ordering you around, or the way his hand hovered over the small of your back as he led you out of the diner, or the darkness that spread across his face, but something was sending shivers down your spine.

That evening, it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of Mr. Morgan. You started wearing more revealing clothes, nothing fancy, just simple shorts and tank tops that would just show your skin, even though it was literally freezing outside. Overtime, you got bolder, getting close to him when Harrison wasn’t looking, unnecessarily leaning over him or brushing against him with your ass. When it was your turn on the couch, you’d purposefully stay uncovered, hoping that the tight shorts would ride up your ass while you were sleeping, to bring a little diversity to his early-morning routines.

He was a smart man. He knew what you were doing. And unfortunately for you, he was resilient.

“You sure you aren’t cold?” he’d asked once as you mixed the batter for gingerbread cookies, leaning casually against the counter behind you. And when you turned around, you saw his eyes flick from your exposed legs to your face. He did exactly nothing to hide it.

“I’m sure.”

You gave him an innocent smile and returned your focus to the batter, smirking to yourself.

“It’s below freezing outside.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

“Exactly. Outside. That’s why we collect firewood, right?”

“Hmm.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he studied you. Or tried to intimidate you? Honestly, you had no idea. “Doesn’t really explain why you’ve been walking around dressed like it’s summer for the past week.”

You paused, holding the bowl against your ribcage as you turned to face him.

“Maybe I’m just trying to liven up this place. Bring some Miami energy to Iron Lake.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Miami energy?” He repeated the words like they amused him, though his tone was dry. “Interesting choice.”

Your cheeks flushed and a shiver ran down your arms – and not from the cold. Maybe, just maybe, you should have kept your mouth shut. Harrison had told you that they’d moved from Florida. But you didn’t need to mention that part.

You were waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared at you, with that expression on his face that said that you were crossing a line. He made you too aware of your whole being – your skin, your lips, your eyes, everything was twitching or at least it felt like it was.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, trying as much as you could to make it unnoticeable, you turned your back to him again. He didn’t say anything more, and when you heard him walk away, you finally felt like you had space to breathe again. You hoped he at least checked you out one more time before leaving. Your cheeks still burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and your body ached with an unfulfilled desire that he seemed intent on ignoring.

But still. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe. You just needed to figure out how to crack him.

Sometimes, less was more. So, the next evening, you decided to try something else. You’d packed a pair of thigh-high, cable-knit burgundy socks that you almost never wore – you found out quickly it was too impractical for everyday use. You thanked yourself for not selling them on Vinted, because now, they had a perfect use.

They clung perfectly to your legs, and you paired them with an over-sized sweater that was barely covering your thighs, leaving a teasing strip of skin visible when you moved. And that was the only thing you were relying on. Well, that and your sweater riding up when you’d stretch yourself up to hang the Christmas decorations.

You slid into your Birkenstocks and took a deep breath. Showtime.

You had been at the cabin alone, but you knew exactly when he was coming home. You’d timed it all perfectly, waiting until you knew he’d walk in and see you in the middle of something. Harrison wouldn’t have noticed the outfit, but Mr. Morgan noticed everything, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It was quiet as you set up for decorating, untangling the mess of Christmas lights while waiting. Any minute now. And then, you felt a gust of icy wind as Mr. Morgan made his entrance. You glanced over your shoulder, greeting him with a fleeting smile, pretending not to pay him too much attention.

“How was work?” you asked as you started to wrap the lights around the mantle, focusing on draping the string evenly.

“Average.” He said as he threw his car keys into the bowl by the door. “Did the cold finally get to you?”

You smirked to yourself, proud that you made unable to resist commenting on your clothes. First thing that came to his mind. Meaning the image of you in your usual shorts must've been lingering somewhere in his had. It had to be.

“Yeah, you were right. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in bed, on the cusp of dying,” you said, feigning defeat. “Where’s Harrison? He was supposed to help me.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”

Well, you did. He was still at the tavern, because you told him you’d start at around nine. It was around six o’clock.

“Never mind." you said with a small shrug, turning to adjust a strand of lights. "At least I don’t have to listen to how everything's at the wrong angle.”

That earned a fait snort from him. His boots thudded against the floor as he crossed the room.  “You need a hand?”

“No, thanks. But you’re welcome to supervise. You’re good at that.”

“Funny.”  

“Is it?”

You reached for the next decoration – a thin garland of cranberries – and stretched up on your tiptoes to hook it around the nail, feeling the hem of your sweater ride up, baring the tops of your thighs. You could almost feel the moment he noticed by the way the silence in the room sharpened.

“I should’ve bought you some proper clothes for Christmas.”

Oh, my God. You couldn’t believe it worked.

“Really? And what would you consider proper, Mr. Morgan?”

You turned to face him, watching his eyes darken, his pupils dilate as his eyes flicked to your legs and then back to your face, his jaw tightening slightly. “Something warmer.”

“Warmer?” you echoed, glancing down at your cozy outfit. “I thought this was perfectly appropriate for decorating.”

“Appropriate for what, exactly?”

You tilted your head, the corners of your lips quirking upward as you shrugged playfully. “For making the place feel festive.”

“Festive.” He repeated with a strong voice. “If you say so.”

You stepped closer, your fingers fiddling with a stray cranberry that had fallen into your hand. “You don’t approve?”

Oof. Well, go big or go home.  

His posture shifted, straightening just enough to make him seem even taller, making you crane your neck to hold the eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”

A tiny victory. You nearly let your grin slip, but you had to hold it back. You still didn’t get what you wanted.

“Well, if you have any decorating tips, I’m all ears," you said casually, turning your attention back to the box of ornaments. You pulled out another string of lights and moved around the room.

You repeated the same tactics again and again. Sometimes, you bent down deliberately to give him a different angle as he ate his dinner, before retreating to the couch and doing something on his computer. Other times, you stretched a little too far to reach something, the edge of your sweater lifting again, revealing more skin.

The room was finally coming together, warm light casting shadows across the walls, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. You collected the empty boxes and stray bits of ribbon scattered on the floor and stepped back to admire your work.

With everything in place, you decided to retreat to the bathroom for a well-earned shower. Stripping out of your sweater and socks, you paused with your hand on the faucet knob, another idea sparking in your mind.

If he wanted to keep his composure, he was going to have to work harder. You hadn't done all of this for nothing.

You grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around yourself before heading into the living room, where he was still locked in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

“Mr. Morgan?” you called, your voice intentionally soft.

“Yes?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and his brow immediately fell, his eyes roaming your body yet again.

“The shower isn’t working. You think you could take a look at it?”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing, trying to decipher your intentions. Shit, he was already onto you and you were scared you’d really scare him away. But then he rose to his feet and made his way to the bathroom. He eyed you suspiciously as he walked by you, but you just gave him an innocent smile. He disappeared into the bathroom, the faint creak of the old wooden door echoing through the cabin. You followed close behind, feeling the chill of the room raise goosebumps on your skin. The sound of him inspecting the faucet, twisting the knobs, testing the showerhead and eventually the sound of water filled the silence.

“It’s working fine. You probably didn’t turn the knob far enough.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You stepped further into the cramped space, closing the door behind you quietly and leaning against it, nibbling on your lip.

He turned around, sighing as he was already aware of you caging him.

“YN,” he said, giving you a chance to back out. “What are you doing?”

He stepped closer to you, his sturdy figure towering over you. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, trying to not let your composure slip.

“Well, I thought maybe you could teach me how to fix it,” you shrugged your shoulders, the words stumbling out before you could really think them through.

“You don’t need to know how to fix it if it’s not broken.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the towel tighter, the only thing keeping you grounded, really. You could be here forever with this back and forth, words felt useless. So instead of saying anything, you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn’t bold, not entirely; you lingered just long enough to make your intention clear, then pulled back.

You couldn’t read him, his eyes were closed and his lips still parted from the kiss before he finally spoke.

“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Why? Because it doesn’t fit into your routine?” You meant it as a joke, but this was really not the time.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might walk away. But then he stepped just a little bit closer, his hands bracing on either side of the door behind you, caging you in.

“You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of.”

You probably couldn’t, but it didn’t even matter. You found him attractive, and you wanted him. It was as simple as that.

“You sure you want to take that risk? All because you can’t help but act on your impulses? Last chance. Walk away.”

But you didn’t and you let him know with a subtle shake of your head. And that was it. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped like a thread pulled too tight. His mouth was on yours in an instant, the kiss rough and urgent. His hand slid from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss.

You’d never been with an older man, but man, was this something else. He wasn’t careful about it. Even though he didn’t strike you as the most confident guy at first sight, the kiss convinced you otherwise. It was a stark contrast to your previous boyfriends. They’d been clumsy and eager, but Mr. Morgan – Jim knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his lips left yours, trailing along your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin in a way that made your knees weak. He didn’t waste any more time as his other hand slid up your inner thigh and beneath the towel, going straight to your pussy. You gasped as his finger found your wetness, fighting the urge to shy away.

In no time, his clothes were gone and the towel pooled on the floor. He gripped your hips firmly, turning your bodies around and guiding you under the steady stream of water pouring from the showerhead. The sensation of cool water against your skin was overshadowed by the way his hands roamed your body and pulled you against him, making you dig your nails into his biceps.

“Jim,” you gasped as his cock brushed against your cunt, but his hand shot up to your face, covering your mouth.

“No.” He growled. “You picked the wrong time to use that name.”

Your brows knit together in confusion. That name? What was that supposed to mean? 

“Get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed, sinking to your knees in front of him, your kneecaps digging into the wet tiles. He shifted his body so his broad frame was shielding you from the stream of water, making you aware of the cool air prickling your damp skin.

The droplets were cascading down his chest and over the taut lines of his stomach. Your eyes lifted from the scar on his left side to meet his, and for a moment, he just simply looked at you. Admired you. Then, with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other stroking his cock, he guided you closer.

You opened your mouth automatically, your lips almost wrapping around his head, but before you made a contact, he gripped your soaked hair and pulled you away, making you shriek.

“Did I tell you you could put your mouth on me?”   

“No,” you said with a small voice.

“That’s right. So, let’s try this again. Who’s in control?”

“You are, Mr. Morgan.”  

You felt your pussy throb from the way he was ordering you around. And for a split second, you were doubting yourself that you could handle it. What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he waited for you to fight back? What if he wanted you to be bratty?

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice softer than before, but it was still demanding. His thumb brushed along your shiny lips before continuing. “You’re beautiful. Don’t overthink this.”

Yeah, probably easy for him to say, but you nodded anyway.

“Stick your tongue out. Keep it out.”

You obeyed, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue rest on your chin. He gripped your jaw again, holding you in place. His cock brushed lightly against your tongue, before letting go of your jaw and bringing his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing, as he guided you down his cock. Automatically, your hands shot up to grab onto his thighs.

“Now, if it gets too much, you tap my leg three times, okay?”

You nodded, the movement of your head with his cock in your mouth making him hiss.

“Show me.”

You tapped his thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your chest swelled with pride as he praised you. This was a whole another level of making you feel good, and you’d never guess it would be coming from your best friend’s father. And not only was he making you feel good, but he also gave you confidence, making you slide your mouth around his cock in a more steady rhythm with him still controlling the movements.

It was slow at first, but you felt that he was holding back, so when he went to pull your head back, you overpowered his strength and instead let his cock slide deep into your throat, making you gag while he simultaneously moaned at the unexpected feeling. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva and precum connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as his palm wiped your chin. Well, more like spread the fluids over your lower jaw, before he returned his cock into your mouth and fucked it. He finally let go, hitting your throat over and over again, making you gag and cough around him, up until the point tears started sliding down your cheeks.

You were so close to tapping out, but before you could signal to him, he pulled out and leaned down, grabbing your jaw as he kissed your open mouth, tasting himself on you.

“Get up.”

You stumbled slightly as you got to your feet, your knees weak and sore from being in that position for so long. He didn’t give you a chance to steady yourself, grabbing your hips and spinning you around. Your back hit his chest as he guided you toward the tiled wall.

“Hands on the wall.”

As you did so, his hand trailed down your back, lingering over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp smack that made you gasp, and wow. You’d never have guessed that he’d be such a kinky motherfucker.

It’s not like you hadn’t had a guy slap your ass before, but this was just different. You remember being unable to get turned on when your sexual partner would spank you. You remember thinking maybe there was something wrong with you. It’s not like you didn’t like it or like it made you uncomfortable. You just hadn’t felt anything. It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t sting. It had been like eating plain, salted chips. They taste good, but they don’t really get you excited.

But from Mr. Morgan, it burned, and it was the best feeling in the world. He skimmed his nails against the flesh of your butt, as if tracing the hand-print that was surely forming there. He placed kisses down your back until he was kissing your stinging skin. You shied away as you realized he was now kneeling behind you, but he quickly caught you by the creases where your thigh meets your abdomen, pulling you back to him.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed yet again.

Your heart pounded, the position feeling unnatural, but despite that, you moved your feet apart, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. You flinched as his cold fingers made contact with your pussy, but quickly recovered. He buried his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he slid it from your hole to your clit, pressing down harder as he circled the sensitive bud.

Your whole body vibrated, the blood rushing through your body and into your throbbing clit. He kept flicking it with his finger, occasionally slowing down to pull the hood of your clit back to focus on the most innervated part of you. You arched your back, as he brushed over that spot, making your stomach tighten. Then he finally brought his fingers to your cunt, pushing in one, then two fingers. It made you mewl, the way he was carefully sliding them in and out, enjoying every ridge of your walls. You heard him sigh, feeling his hot breath bouncing off your ass. It made you realize how bad you wanted his mouth on your pussy.

And as if he read your thoughts, his fingers slid out of you and to your clit, as he replaced them with his tongue, flexing it and fucking you with it straight away. He was licking up your walls, the wet muscle prodding against them, making you moan. The finger still worked your clit, but when you felt him open his mouth wide and bury his face even further into your ass to get his tongue as far as he possibly could. It made you see galaxies.

When he felt you twitching against him, already trying to get away, albeit unintentionally, he circled both your thighs with his arm, trapping you against him. You were basically sitting on his face and now that his fingers left your clit, he slid his chin lower, his stubble scratching your skin as the tip of his tongue massaged your clit. His nose was buried in your wet hole now, his cheeks squished by your thighs, and you were scared you were going to suffocate him. Unfortunately, it was his fault and his fault only that you stopped caring as soon as you heard the squelching sounds of your pussy as his tongue kept delving into you. That’s what he did, he made you selfish. He was bringing you closer to the edge and the only thing you cared about was falling.

And with his tongue flicking against your clit, you soon felt the knot in your stomach tightening, until you let go. Your release poured out of you and he was catching it all on his tongue, licking everything up.

Once he got every drop, he stood to his full height, his arms encircling you. I made you feel safe, secured. One of his hands landed on your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he kissed along your neck and then your shoulder, waiting for you to fully come down. You let your head fall backwards against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

He smelled so good. Or maybe it was just the undetectable pheromones spreading through the air that sharpened every sense to its peak. You felt like a mess. Your hands itched to adjust your hair, to wipe at the moisture beading on your flushed skin, but you were too scared to move.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pressed closer, his cock prodding at your cunt.

“Yes.”

And then he finally fucked you. Your back arched instinctively into him as he started thrusting, finding a steady rhythm. His hand slipped lower, tracing the line of your hip before dipping between your thighs again, spreading your pussy and grazing the nail of his finger over your clit. His hips moved harder and harder, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, his moans and your whimpers filled the room, the stream of water coming from the shower making a bad job at obscuring it. He was hitting that spot inside of you over and over again and combined with the sensation of his fingers on your clit and his teeth pressing against your shoulder as he licked the water from your skin made your knees buckle. He was going to leave a faint imprint, that’s for sure.

He was getting close too, or at least you thought so from the way he got louder and more high-pitched, fucking you faster. He wasn’t gentle about it. He wanted you to come hard around him, and it was working. You were getting closer and closer, and when he sank his teeth a little harder into your shoulder, not sure if it was intentional or in the heat of the moment, that name escaped your mouth on its own again.

“Jim–”

And in a snap of a finger, his hand shot up to your mouth, covering it and leaning your head back against his shoulder, his lips ghosting your ear.

“Dexter,” he said, his hand sliding down to your neck and lightly pressing against your throat. Your brain was mush, you didn’t know what he meant, your brows knitting in confusion as you tried to focus on what he just said. “Fucking say it.” He growled when you didn’t react, pinching your clit and giving you a particularly hard and deep thrust as he stopped him movements. 

“Dexter,” you moaned immediately. You just wanted to be good for him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised as he started fucking you again until you were coming around him. It made your whole body convulse. You hinged your hips to press against him and at the same time, to escape his wicked fingers. You brought your hand down to cover his on your pussy, thinking maybe it would bring you relieve from the overstimulation, but it did exactly nothing at all. You kept coming, coating his cock in your cum, making it easier for him to slide along your pussy walls, but harder for him to keep his cock from sliding all the way out. You were so slippery, your cunt clenching around him which brought him to his own edge, finally spilling himself inside of you.

Gradually, he slowed down until he eventually removed his cock from your pussy and freed your sensitive clit from his fingers. He did manage to slide them to your hole one last time, scooping up your mixed cum as he brought his hand in front your faces and admired it, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he rubbed the juices between his fingers. You watched it slowly disappear under the running water before he let his arm fall to your hip, turning you around. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, before opening them again, his eyelashes catching the drops of water from the shower.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in those socks.”

[acourtofthought]

If Sarah provided this information for a reason, I don't think it's because it's going to an Azriel plot:

When we look at Sarah's writing, information introduced typically goes in a direction we weren't expecting:

"Stay with the High Lord" wasn't about Tamlin.

The Starsword belonging to Theia's female heir only lasted for a short while before Theia's heir left it to Nesta.

The bloodline ending with Ruhn did not foreshadow his death as expected.

Az has nothing to do with the Autumn Court. He has nothing to with Jurian and Vassa. He has nothing to do with the Spring Court. All things Rhys mentioned as a concern in the bonus.

You know who does though? Both Eris and Lucien.

I definitely think Eris is a good guy deep down but I think it's possible that Sarah will continue giving him a bit of the Jurian or Loki treatment, where he'll appear to be working against them, possibly looking as if he's betraying them.

Eris went to the human lands to "spy" on Jurian and Vassa:

Eris’s face filled with cool amusement. “I wanted to feel out Vassa and Jurian.”

He was the one who arranged the meeting in Spring and was present when Tamlin arrived:

Cassian growled, opening his mouth, but halted. Eris went still as well. Nesta felt it a heartbeat later. The presence creeping toward them on soft paws. Cassian shoved her behind him just as a golden-furred beast with curling horns leaped from behind the brambles, landing in the forest clearing.

Not to mention he knows of Tamlin's current state and how he's abandoned his people, that his father might have an interest in taking over Springs lands.

And he's the one still doing his father's bidding though we know he wants to take Beron out.

The "betrayer of the NC" theories are making the rounds again, whether because of an interview where some say Sarah confirmed this information (I've yet to see the interview) or because of what Briallyn said to Nesta:

“There are others in your court as delusional as you are. They’ll get it for me one way or another, with the right incentive.

So what if the betrayal will look like it's coming from Eris? A promise to kill Beron would be the right incentive for him.

And we were given this line to show Eris as a part of the NC's lineup:

Starting with Keir, at the head of the gathered crowd. Ending with Eris, standing proud and tall—wearing Night Court black—beside him.

That wording adds Eris into the "There are others in this court" lineup in a similar way that Sarah stretching the Suriels hint of staying with the High Lord did, it's like he was a honorary part of the NC, embracing Night Court black.

He's also showing frustration / jealousy in SF:

She kept her gaze on Eris, who went rigid, rippling with rage. “I do not appreciate being toyed with, Nesta Archeron. My offer was sincere. Stay with the Night Court and you risk your ruin.”

And then there was the way Eris had spoken about the other courts. Something had been off in his words, his tight expression. Was the male jealous?

And Eris's betrayal could include invoking the Blood Duel against Lucien at Berons request:

To help them remember that all it might take to secure Briallyn’s alliance would be to hand over a certain Archeron sister. Don’t be stupid enough to believe my father hasn’t thought of that, too.”

If they knew Elain was Lucien’s mate … It was now another avenue, I realized with no small amount of horror. Another way to strike at the youngest brother they hated so fiercely, so unreasonably. Eris’s bargain with us had not included protection of Lucien.

Nesta barely glanced to Eris, who pulled his assessing gaze from Elain

Of course I don't think Eris and Lucien would fight to the death and I think Eris will be getting a true redemption arc but I could see that setup being a way to kick off the Elucien book, tying Eris, Lucien, Beron, and Elain together in a plot related way so that they can finally deal with Beron once and for all.

[mqrrstarr]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!

Gladiator Characters x GN! Reader

(1/7)

Feat: Geta, Caracalla, Commodus, Lucius, Maximus, Acacius, Lucilla, Macrinus!!

Christmas Day and Eve headcanons!

Warnings: poorly edited, just a girl who loves these characters and the holidays, a bit short

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! don’t feel the same vibe as I did when a child, so I’m coping with writing. This will be a seven part series regarding Gladiator characters and Christmas and I’ll try to post them all BY THE END OF THE WEEK (?) but uhh don’t hold that against me. Enjoy!!

Summary: headcanons for all the gladiator characters and how they’d spend Christmas Eve and Day with their SO.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Geta would spend Christmas Eve with dinner specially made for his SO, (he def has better cooking skills than Caracalla) and he’d lovingly give them a bonus Eve gift. It’s a beautiful moment, where the strong and feared leader of Rome and succumb to the one he loves.

“Enjoy it darling. The beauty of the holidays does not compare to yours.”

He’d watch you enjoy his meal, and drink the wine he picked out especially for the occasion. As much as music was needed, Geta refused to let anyone interrupt your moment together.

On Christmas Day, it would depend on what happened during the night. Was it a peaceful night, was it active, or was it bland? Either way, Geta would get up and prepare presents for you, a surprise for no one other than the love of his life. He’d do it quietly, and super early in the morning. He’d rarely sleeps in peace anyways, so why use the energy elsewhere?

It would also be a morning where you wake up gently, and be surprised by the lavish decorations Geta has placed. Gold and white silk decorating his room, and most of all, your Emperor was still yours.

- - - - - - -

Caracalla is in love with the holidays. He gets giddy, childlike, and excited every time. This is a period in the year where he can remember something good about his youth. He likes to keep himself happy, and now that you’re his? You’re included in all the traditions.

During your Christmas dinner, he’d bring out a bunch of dinner games, have slaves perform for the both of you (AMND reference btw) and it would be a wholesome night.

Before Christmas Day, the eldest emperor cried during the night. He laid in your arms, and caressed you in return.

“Sweets. I cannot express how much care…”

He looks at you like a puppy worshipping its owner.

“I truly care about you. And although these times are happy and remind me of things, I hope to make new memories with you.”

The night would pass, and the morning would come. You’d wake up in Caracalla’s embrace, and to be frank, none of you got the others gifts out. So you just opened everything together, and you had never seen the man so happy.

- - - - - - -

Commodus and Christmas. What an interesting mix. Take a emotionally damaged man with immense childhood trauma and put him in a holiday where he did nothing but suffer? Where his own father ignored him and gave him nothing but one gift?

Christmas Eve with him was truly nothing but a dinner. Now that he had you, he tried to forget and make new memories. But the shame and pain was still visible in his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore and sat next to him, caressing him and saying words of affection.

“My present from Venus, ignore my past and ignore my anger. My father ruined my mind, and all you can do it heal it. This Christmas will be my first with you, and if my last? Than I would rather be dead.”

You looked at him with such sincerity in your eyes, he became submissive to your touch and you both proceeded to sit next to the fire in his room.

Christmas morning arrived promptly, and knowing this was a very sensitive time for Commodus, you got him a gift he’d never forget. This necklace, engraved with your initials and his; with both of your favorite jewels. And, a new laurel crown for the one and only Emperor himself.

Commodus nearly fell down into tears, so grateful he was finally seen.

- - - - - - -

Lucius loved you with his entire heart. After being forcefully removed from his mother as a kid, and already losing his first wife, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person special to him.

To Lucius, Christmas is the mark of the end of the year, another time to celebrate the fact you’re both alive, and that you’re both still warriors. (writing from a Gladiator! perspective rather than Prince!)

“My love, I am eternally grateful to the Gods that we can be together.”

He kisses your forehead, gently as to not hurt you. You spend your Christmas Eve with a simple meal, and the next day not as lavish either.

Lucius adored you already: but he’d try to get a gift anyways, even though he already admires and thinks you’re just amazing! (Poppy and Branch dynamic)

He’d come up with something cute and homemade, providing the point that it doesn’t have to be expensive to matter. (save me Lucius save me)

- - - - - - -

Maximus wasn’t the same after the loss of his previous wife and child, and this time was bittersweet for him. His SO kept him sane, and he tried not to let his sadness show through.

You decorated the tree in your home, one Maximus was able to buy after years of being a Gladiator. He occasionally goes to the fights, but not anymore. Now he’s a Senator. (NOT CANON ITS JUST SO HES NOT DEAD AND IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN THE OTHER SEVEN PARTS)

He came up behind you and kissed your neck, watching you place the last of the ornaments.

“Excellent work my dear. Excellent. I’m going to bed now, meet you there?”

And he went away in a form far too sad for the usual Maximus. You knew him well, and simply decided to go to sleep as well. The following morning, you woke up first and decided to get your gift for Maximus.

It was a wooden carving of him, his late wife, his late child, and you all together.

Maximus woke up a few minutes later, and got your gift from the bedroom! (You were in the living room.) He got you a bracelet from his dead wife, something that really meant a lot to him.

“My dear? I’d like to give you this. It belonged to my former wife, and she liked it dearly. Made form Spanish jewels and metal, of course. I love you, but I beg for you to understand that she and my son still live in me. You understand, right?”

You nodded, happy and overwhelmed. You gave Maximus his gift, and tears were shed from the both of you. Your gift meant a lot, as you accepted his love and the love for those gone.

- - - - - - -

Acacius loved the holidays. It was a time where he could relax, sink into his own bed, be clean, and most important, be with you.

You finished preparing the meal, a mix of both his and your favorite foods with some Roman delicacies thrown in there.

“Looks great my sweet. Not as good as you though! But you know I love you.”

He caressed your hips before helping set the table. The meal was prepped and Acacius sat you down first. (WHAT A GENTLEMAN)

He sat across from you at the table, and you talked about what was going on, what you wanted to happen in Rome, etc.

Eventually, stuff happened and you both woke up in the each others arms in the morning. Acacius always laid very still in the night, out of pure instinct. However, Christmas morning he couldn’t stop moving around, and woke the both of you up together.

He eagerly said, “Hurry up and change, your gift is outside.” He smiled and left promptly.

Outside, there was a gleaming white stallion.

“For you. A horse just as grand as your soul.”

You smiled. Who wouldn’t want a horse as a gift? But inside you shattered. The only gift you got for Acacius was a painting of himself. You showed it to him, and he reassured you it was enough. Let’s just say he’d also show you it was okay.

- - - - - - -

Lucilla loved the holidays. She decorated excessively, both as a young woman and as she is now. (hc, it’s because Lucius loved the looks and lights of Christmas and the guilt of having him leave her has followed her forever)

“One more wreath I promise… it’s just an extra special one… done!”

She looked at you and smiled. It radiated calm and positivity, an effect only Lucilla had. You kissed her and assured the place looked great.

“Dinner should be set by the slaves by now. It should be good. I trust it is. They sent by fresh fruits and veggies and proper meat as well. I’d like to give you your gift now, would that be alright? I just truly cannot wait.”

You nodded yes, but you’d have to get the gift from the room. You agreed to meet again in five minutes to exchange gifts.

Soon, the two of you are reunited, and she presents a lovely sculpture of you, portrayed in such an ethereal form; as if the gods had carved it themselves. You gave her a crown made from pure gold and a ring, as you knew she loved collecting rings. The ring you gave her had your initials carved, signifying the both of you tied together.

- - - - - - -

Macrinus had a holiday anytime one of his prized gladiators won. Yet, Christmas, was an actual holiday he could look forward to.

“Uh, Dove, do you know if the servants have finished the meal? I’ve got a bunch of gladiators waiting to fight in your honor.”

(he calls you Dove bc you’re his symbol of peace!)

He planted a kiss on your forehead before leading you to the garden outside, where a meal was served and the servants were waiting patiently, deserts, fruits, wine in their hands.

Five gladiators waited in chains to be released to have a “playful” hand to hand fight, something Macrinus found plenty delight in.

“I have a gift for you. I won’t be around tomorrow, as the Emperors requested a meeting with me. So I wish to give you this. I know it’s a bit excessive, but you deserve it.”

He gave you a pearl necklace with ruby earrings to go with it, and a slip saying you owned a young gladiator.

You thanked Macrinus, and you enjoyed the meal as the gladiators fought and the moon shined upon the both of you.

“I live for you, and I love you Dove. Fly high always.”

[librarygarten]

I don't think I'm the only one who thinks Wars was an asshole? Like, is the reader supposed to have -known- they were actually controlling somone? The world they were from, the Links aren't real, right? And here he is instantly blaming them for playing something they'd only know as a game, cruelly making them cry and being just all around awful. I hope someone calls him out on it.

Sorry, nonnie :( Wars was indeed an asshole, but his game would probably one of the worst to live through. He had to watch his men die in a war that turned out to be some sort of sick entertainment for an interdimensional being. Add to that his whole... situation with Cia, and he's not thrilled with the idea that reader might have just. Over-written his free will while playing the game. Don't worry, Twilight will beat up Wars on your behalf <3

#2 Chain x Speedrunner! Deity! Isekai! Reader - Who's in Control?

Part 2 includes Sky, Twilight, and Legend Part 1 ✿ Part 2 (you are here) ✿ Part 3

When you first fell through the portal and joined the chain on their quest, you had revealed that they were only stories in your world. It had taken a while for them to understand the concept of a video game, and even longer for them to come to terms with the fact that some of the most traumatic events of their lives were reduced to children’s entertainment. However, as they talked with you, they came to another horrifying discovery: YOU were their “player.” Your actions in your world, the decisions you made while playing the games, directly influenced their own lives. What’s more, you were a speedrunner.

Sky

“Hey, Y/N?” Sky approaches you at camp, wringing his hands nervously. He won’t meet your gaze. “Did… did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?” You think back on your last few interactions. You hadn’t been treating him any differently. Unless you were somehow a jerk and didn’t even know it? You have been pretty sleep-deprived lately. “No. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that…” He trails off, clearly not sure how to approach this topic. He takes a breath and tries again. “You kind of controlled us during our adventures, right?”

Well, crap.

“I think so? I’m not really sure how it works.” Now you’re the one that won’t look him in the eyes. “My influence on you guys is still… weird to think about.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. Learning the existence of your free will was questionable at best was not a great feeling. “But you controlled everything we did, right?”

“Not necessarily!” You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck. “Talking to some of the others, maybe you guys could influence me, too? Like, Four said he felt scared during the final fight, and that’s the same time that I messed up with the controls!”

Sky hums, as if agreeing. It’s clear he doesn’t believe it.

“But you’re the one that made me jump off that post in Skyloft.” He says quietly. He’s not angry. He just seems sad, honestly. “And then… Fi was there all of a sudden? I can’t remember exactly. Everything seemed so… out of order?”

You swallow the glob of spit in your throat. He was talking about the Back in Time glitch. How did he even remember that? It requires two save files and to move around while in the menu.

“You remember that?” You yelp. “Shoot, I’m so, so sorry. That’s a glitch to make the game faster. I swear, I had known you weren’t just a video game I would have never-”

“It’s fine.” He interrupts, giving a weak smile. “I’m used to it.”

“Used to what?” You ask, but he walks away. He disappears between the trees, and you’re left staring at the empty clearing full of camping equipment.

“...Used to what?” You whisper to yourself.

Twilight

“Y’alright?” Twilight asks you. He’d found you a ways away from camp, curled up agains the side of a tree. You sniff, wiping your eyes but not meeting his gaze.

“Peachy,” you say sarcastically, but your voice cracks, and it sounds more pathetic than anything else. He sits down next to you.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” He smiles. When you don’t respond, he leans forward, trying to get a look at your face. “You know you can talk to me, right? Or I could be Wolfie, if that would be easier? Dog therapy is a thing right? Wolf therapy is just a few degrees removed from that.”

“Don’t go transforming for my sake.” You snicker, finally turning your head to look at him. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. “It’s nothing. No need for you to get worked up over it.”

“It is very clearly not ‘nothing’.” His eyebrows furrow. “Did one of the others say something? I swear if Legend was giving you grief again–”

“No, nobody said anything. It’s just a lot of things, I guess…” You explain hesitantly. “Like, I got sucked through a random portal and suddenly a bunch of game characters are real. And what’s worse is the things I did in the game actually happened to them? Does that apply to every game I’ve played? What about when I stopped playing a game? Or deleted a save file?” You thread your fingers through your hair, feeling more tears threatening to spill out. How many deaths and traumas were your fault? How many lives have you ruined? 

“You couldn’t have known. Heck, WE didn’t know about you.” Twilight pats your back, bringing you back to reality.

“But didn’t you feel something was off? I was like,” you make claws with your hands, emphasizing your point “controlling you guys against your will or something.”

“Well, it was kinda weird when I stared at a rupee for fifteen hours straight.” He chuckles, “But like I said, you had no way of knowing. Nobody here blames you.”

“I’m pretty sure Wars hates me…”

“Well, he’s an asshole.” Twilight rolls his eyes. “I’ll give him a piece of my mind next time he’s bothering you, ya hear?”

“Okay,” you smile, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Legend

“Speedrunning? That sounds incredibly stupid.” Legend scoffs. You had tried explaining some of the strange things that he had encountered during his adventure, only to be made fun of. Honestly, you probably deserved it a little bit.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. People compete to get the fastest time, which usually requires glitches.” You chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your head.

“So you broke the very fabric of reality in order to win.” He raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t break reality!” You exclaim.

“I climbed up a ladder and just… kept going up, even when there wasn’t anything to climb on!” Legend throws his hands in the air. “I held a bomb above my head and floated across a room.”

“That’s not necessarily breaking reality,” you grimace. He’s honestly got a point, but you’re not about to concede like that. “People can fly. There’s a whole race of bird people called the Rito in the other timelines.”

“Do I look like a bird?” Legend motions to himself, showing off his very-much-not-a-bird-self. “You know what? Forget it. If all you’re going to do is make excuses, I’m done.”

He turns to walk away, but you grab his hand. His back is to you, so you can’t see his face. Hopefully he won’t hate you too much.

“Legend, I swear I would never have played the games if I knew I was messing with real people. I had no idea.” You sniff, tears threatening to fall. You’re so sick of this. You’re so sick of needing to explain this to them. “Your games were some of the first games I ever played. I remember coming back from school as a kid, excited to play them. I… I loved all the characters. I spent hours trying to find every side quest, trying to get everyone a happy ending. When I started speedrunning… I never could have known… I’m sorry.”

He turns around, his bangs half-covering his eyes. He looks ready to cry, too.

“You loved her too, huh?” He whispers, then laughs, regaining his composure and returning to the snarky Legend you know and love. “Just make sure you don’t, like, puppet me around now, alright? I can’t imagine what the others would do if I started backflipping through walls.”

You giggle at his annoyed expression. They were sure to be insufferable about it.

“Deal.”

[kezdispenser]

Tinsel, Whiskey, and Mistletoe

A Dean Winchester one shot

The bunker always felt a little too cold, a little too big, and a little too much like a military base. Functional, sure, but cozy? Not even close. But this year, you’d decided that was going to change.

It was Christmas Eve, and while Dean, Sam, and Cas were out handling a minor salt-and-burn, you’d spent the entire day turning the bunker into something that vaguely resembled the holidays. You’d raided every thrift store, big-box shop, and craft aisle within a hundred-mile radius, hauling back decorations, lights, and enough tinsel to choke a reindeer.

By the time the guys returned, the bunker looked... different.

Dean was the first to step inside, his boots echoing against the floor before he froze in place. His eyes scanned the room, widening at the sight of garlands strung along the railings, a small but cheerful tree set up in the corner, and stockings hung along the edge of one of the desks.

“What the hell?” he muttered, blinking like he’d walked into an alternate universe.

You popped your head out from behind the tree, holding a string of lights you’d been wrestling with. “Surprise! Merry Christmas, Dean!”

Sam walked in behind him, his eyebrows shooting up. “Whoa. You did all this?”

“Sure did,” you said, grinning as you plugged in the lights. The tree lit up, casting the room in a warm, festive glow. “If we’re gonna spend Christmas in the bunker, we’re doing it right.”

Dean crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You realize this is a secret lair for fighting monsters and saving the world, right? Not Santa’s workshop?”

“Uh-huh. And you realize you’ve spent the last however many years skipping Christmas like it’s the plague?” you shot back. “Not this year, Winchester. You’re having a proper Christmas, and you’re gonna like it.”

Sam chuckled, clearly enjoying Dean’s discomfort. “She’s got a point, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further, which you took as a win.

The evening felt strangely quiet after dinner, the kind of peaceful stillness that settled in your chest when you were alone with people you cared about. You didn’t want to let the night slip away without showing them just how much they meant to you, how much you appreciated everything they did—even if they didn’t always show it.

When it came time for presents, you couldn’t help yourself. You’d spent weeks getting gifts for all three of them, each one hand-picked with the hope it would mean something to them.

First, you turned to Sam. You handed him a large, neatly wrapped package. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate to tear into it. His eyes widened when he saw what was inside: a collection of vintage books, including some rare editions on folklore and hunting techniques, as well as a beautiful leather bookmark with his initials engraved on it.

“Holy—wow. You really went all out,” Sam said, clearly surprised. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said with a soft smile. “I know how much you love your research. Thought these might help.”

Next, you handed Castiel his gift, and he unwrapped it carefully, as if savoring the moment. Inside was a rare celestial map, detailing constellations and star formations. You could see the quiet joy in his eyes as he traced the patterns. You had also thrown in a small hand-carved wooden angel figurine for him, something you knew would resonate with him more than anything store-bought.

“This is... beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and full of appreciation. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

You nodded, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you. You had always known the angels in his life were complex, but this—this was something tangible that he could hold onto.

Finally, you turned to Dean. His gift was a bit more elaborate—a box that was heavier than he expected. As he opened it, he found a set of custom tools, engraved with his name and a few inside jokes about the number of times he'd complained about broken equipment. You’d even thrown in a high-quality flask, knowing he’d appreciate it on long hunts.

“You didn’t have to get me all this stuff,” Dean said, his voice soft, but there was something in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He stared at the flask for a moment before looking back up at you. “This is... amazing, (Y/N). Thank you.”

You smiled at him, trying to mask the overwhelming sense of love you felt for the three of them. “You guys deserve it,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “For all the shit you go through, for everything you’ve given. You deserve something nice, even if it’s just for tonight.”

Dean reached across the table, brushing his hand over yours in a rare moment of sincerity. “You didn’t have to do all this. But I’m glad you did,” he said, his words heavy, but sincere.

You took a breath, trying to hold back the tears you could feel welling in your eyes. “I wanted to make it special,” you whispered. “For all of us. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

The smiles on their faces were more than you’d hoped for. It wasn’t about the presents—it was about the fact that you cared enough to show them they weren’t alone, that despite the chaos and violence that had always been a part of their lives, there was still room for peace.

And maybe, just maybe, there was room for love.

Later, when Sam and Cas had gone off to their rooms, you found Dean sitting in the war room, nursing a glass of whiskey. The tree’s lights reflected in the amber liquid, casting a warm glow over his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, walking over and sliding into the chair next to him.

He glanced at you, then back at the tree. “This is... a lot.”

You shrugged, resting your chin in your hand. “You guys deserve it. You never take a break, never let yourselves have any normal shit. I just wanted to give you something good for once.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the tree. Then he smirked, shaking his head. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” you shot back without thinking.

The words hung in the air for a beat too long. You glanced at him, expecting him to laugh or roll his eyes, but instead, his gaze was locked on yours, intense and unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “Maybe I do.”

Your breath caught as he leaned closer, his whiskey-warmed breath ghosting over your lips. “Mistletoe,” he murmured, his eyes flicking upward.

Your heart flipped when you realized you were sitting directly under the sprig you’d hung earlier. “Cheater,” you whispered, but you were already leaning in.

When his lips met yours, it was soft at first, almost hesitant. But then his hand cupped your jaw, and the kiss deepened, all heat and unspoken feelings pouring out in one perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

And just like that, the bunker didn’t feel so cold anymore.

---------------------

A/N: Here's a Dean one for you girlies.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Weeping Heart (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: panic attacks and tears

•○●⛦●○•

Warnings: the beginnings of a panic attack, cardan being sad and frustrated, though i dont go into details. yn running away again, ig. (the next part will include her getting comforted, dw <3 )

Word Count: 1107

A/n: shes a lil late but shes hereee yayyy 🥳

Imp: the next parts will be either posted on friday or next monday, depending on how quick i write. it will be a double update, so everyone whos on team herb can read the herb x reader part and ones on team cardan can read the cardan x reader part. i will add those links to this part when they are uploaded, so if you choose yes, you read the herb part. if you choose no, you read the cardan part.

anyways, enjoy🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n did not mind mornings. She had come across quite a few humans who insisted mornings were the worst time of the day, about how they preferred night.

Most faeries would agree, considering they slept during the day and worked at night. But Y/n, she loved mornings. She could get some peace to herself, some quiet that seemed to betray her when her soldiers, male and female alike, were awake. It was just quiet chatter, but it still got on her nerves sometimes.

Y/n always got herself up a few hours before sunset to have some time to herself, to practise her fighting skills, to think.

Y/n also knew Cardan liked to sleep. Most of the time, he had no option but to sleep off his hangovers after drinking the whole night, but even when that wasn't the case, he would never wake up while the sun was still out without a reason.

So when Y/n snuck out of Herb’s tent in the afternoon, the sun beating down on her as she went, it was a huge surprise to Y/n to find Cardan sitting on her bed, wide awake.

She paused at the threshold of her tent, the flap fluttering shut behind her as she processed the sight. "Cardan? You’re up early."

He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Yeah. I’ve been up for some time now." He paused, glancing down at Y/n’s boots. It was a thing he used to do, when he was feeling vulnerable but did not want her to see. "Waiting… for you."

Y/n’s blood slowed in her veins before rushing again, and she sighed, stepping forward and making her way towards the chair in the corner.  "I was sleeping, Cardan."

"Where?" His response was quick, sharp, as if he had been thinking of it since he woke up. It made Y/n freeze in her tracks, her eyes growing slightly wide.

"Uh… in a soldier’s tent?"

He stood. "Why?"

Y/n blinked. "What do you mean why? My bed was occupied, so-"

"So now you can’t even stand my presence?" He laughed.

Y/n stared at him, at a loss for words. She looked at him closely, noting the gauntness in his pale cheeks, he shadows under his eyes.

Sure, he had all those before, but the hollows seemed deeper, the shadows darker. "I never said that, Cardan. And I would never be intolerable to your presence."

He scoffed. "Right, that’s why you’ve been running away and avoiding returning to Insmire for so long."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her face. "It’s nothing against you, Cardan-"

"Then why have you been avoiding me since I arrived?! I’ve been trying to talk to you, I’ve tried so many times! Why are you running away from me?!" He snapped, his voice rising.

And Y/n froze completely.

Cardan never yelled. That was something Y/n had grown up with. No matter what, Cardan never yelled. He would drink, he would party, he would revel, hell, he’d bed people just to forget his frustrations. But he never yelled.

And never at Y/n.

It broke her will to care.

"Because if I don’t, I might just kill myself!"

He stilled, his eyes wild as he stared back at her, his chest heaving. Y/n stepped forward, closer and closer to him. His gaze tracked her movements, almost predatory.

"Do you know, Cardan, how much pain I have been in everyday since I realised that you would never look at me like I look at you?" He said nothing, his eyes wide. "Everyday, I’d put on a smile, act like I have not been in love with you since I understood what love was, and watched as you did all that you did, as you revelled and ruined your own reputation, as you acted like you loved all those females you bedded."

Y/n finally stopped a foot from him, jabbing her finger into his chest, fury blazing in her heart. "I was there as you watched your mother ignore you, I was there to comfort you, I was there as you shattered every time after her rejection. I was there when you wanted Jude, I was right there helping you out with her. I listened to every detail you provided of your love life, trying to hold myself together, and you just couldn’t see it."

Y/n shook her head, smiling. "You could never see it, you were too busy making eyes at others to notice me. And yes, if you’re going to ask me if running away was necessary, yes it was. Because I could no longer bear to watch you be in love with Jude while I stared at you like a lovesick puppy. It was eating me alive from the inside. And I couldn’t tell you about it either, because I saw how in love with Jude you were, and I never wanted to get in the way of your happiness. You know why? Because I care about you, Cardan. I care about you."

He stared at Y/n, looking like he was about to cry as she panted, her blood chilling as she realised what she had just done.

"Y/n, I-"

Y/n stumbled back, her heart beating in her throat.

The beating slowed.

Her hearing diminished.

Or maybe the birds stopped chirping. She didn’t know.

She didn’t care.

This was a panic attack, she was sure of it.

This was the first one she was having in years. The last time was when Y/n had realised she loved Cardan and had almost blurted it out at him, but stopped just before he could hear it, and then he had left with a pretty nymph on his arm.

Even back then, he had not paid any attention to her as he led the female away, already beginning to kiss her before they were even out of sight.

And she had made it a mission that she never had any other panic attacks ever again. And if she did, she’d not create a scene, especially not in front of Cardan.

So she took another step back, her heartbeat thudding in her ears, slow, unsteady, and then turned and sprinted out of her tent, her only focus her horse, Toad.

And the moment the horse was in her arms reach, she swung herself onto the mare’s back and rode away, tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

She heard him calling after her.

Maybe Herb would keep Cardan away. Keep him from following her.

But did she want him to?

No.

Yes.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[supercorpkid]

A Super-Sized Santa Heist

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x BD!Reader, Alex Danvers x BD!Reader

Word Count: 3100

Notes: how many Christmas references can I put in one fic? Guess you'll see.

The Tower looks festive with all the Christmas decorations you and Kara put up. You flew here and there, stringing lights and arranging ornaments, and now the soft glow of the lights fills the room. Kara set up a tree in the center—so massive it almost didn’t fit, but no one dared to say anything about it, even though it looked close to ridiculous.

Lena had called a meeting, and the whole team gathered in front of Kara’s oversized tree, glancing up briefly, amusement and disbelief flickering across everyone’s faces.

“So, I was talking to Y/N last night,” Lena begins.

“Pillow talk alert! Set the scene, spooning or face-to-face?” Nia chimes in, drawing groans from everyone, including you. She’s grinning like she’s just won a prize. “Got it. Spooning.”

You roll your eyes. It was spooning, but you’re not admitting it.

Lena presses on, ignoring Nia’s antics and the collective discomfort. “I’m hosting a charity gala to raise funds for the cancer wing of the hospital. One of the highlights will be a Santa meet-and-greet for the children there.”

Kara claps her hands, excitement already radiating from her. “That sounds wonderful, Lena!”

“I’m glad you think so, because I was hoping you’d be Santa.”

Kara’s laughter bursts out before she can stop it. “Santa?” she repeats, incredulous. “Me?”

Alex is already loving this, smug as ever. “Oh, this is going to be amazing.”

You smile at Kara. “I think it’s a really great idea. Who’s more joyful about Christmas than you, huh?”

“Funny you should mention…” Lena’s gaze shifts to you, softening as she speaks. “I was thinking you could help your sister.”

“Help Kara do what? Get into her costume?”

“And with the Christmas spirit… and the kids—”

“You could be an elf!” Alex cuts her off, way too excited about her own idea. You can already feel the trouble coming.

Alex’s comment sends Kara into another fit of laughter, and you narrow your eyes at her and Lena. Really? This is how we’re spending the holidays?

“You’d make a fantastic elf,” Lena says sweetly, stepping a bit closer, her hand brushing lightly over your arm. That simple touch makes you feel vulnerable in a way you’ll never admit.

“I think Nia would be a better fit.” You try to pass the buck, but Nia’s already smiling mischievously.

“I appreciate the offer, but since I’m not trying to get into Lena’s pants, I’ll pass.”

“I’m not trying,” you retort, crossing your arms. “I’m succeeding.”

“Jesus, can we talk about anything else?” Alex huffs, tired of the conversation.

“Look, I just—I don’t think I have the right… temperament.” you argue weakly.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Everyone here knows how much you love Christmas, it’s been your favorite holiday since we came to Earth.” Kara says, still grinning. You scowl at her in response.

“Please?” Lena leans in close, her voice soft, conspiratorial. “For me, honey?”

You sigh, utterly defeated. “Fine. But only because it’s for the kids—and because you get scary when you really want something.”

Lena smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Alex lets out a mock cheer. “This is the best Christmas ever. Should I get a new phone with a better camera?”

“You keep this going, and I’ll replace all of Esmé’s gifts with coal.”

You glare at Alex, but her grin is as wide as the Christmas tree is tall. She leans smugly against the wall, completely unbothered by your threat.

“Face it. You’re too soft when it comes to Esmé. You would never ruin her Christmas. And honestly, that kid could guilt-trip you out of coal faster than a speeding bullet.”

Kara snickers, grabbing the Santa costume Lena had procured. “Speaking of guilt trips, let’s talk about these outfits. Do I really have to wear a beard? Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”

“I think the kids would like the real thing, sis.” you offer, groaning as Kara holds up a glittery jingly elf hat with mock menace.

“You know what? I agree with Kara. Maybe we shouldn’t play into stereotypes.” you suggest.

Alex pats your shoulder. “Hey, at least you’re not Santa. You got the better deal.”

You glance at the hat, then at the red-and-white suit in Kara’s hands. Finally, your gaze lands on Lena, whose face is perfectly innocent, though you’re not buying it.

“If by better deal you mean not wearing the beard,” you grumble, “I’m still not convinced.”

Alex nudges you, looking far too pleased with herself. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. And for a good cause.”

You groan, grabbing the hat reluctantly. “Fine. But if anyone calls me cutie, I’m throwing candy canes at them.”

Kara grins, teasing. “You’ll make the cutest elf National City’s ever seen.”

“Coal,” you mutter darkly, stomping far away from the costume. “Everyone’s getting coal.”

It’s the day of the gala, and despite your best efforts to avoid it, there’s no backing out now. The conference room has been overtaken by a chaotic flurry of sequins, jingling bells, and red velvet capes that would make even a seasoned superhero cringe.

Lena stands near the rack of absurdly festive costumes, her eyes sparkling with way too much amusement. “You know, I always thought superheroes could pull off anything,” she quips, holding up a Santa beard. “But this might be my masterpiece.”

“I’ll give you that,” you mutter, tugging at your elf hat in abject misery. “It’s definitely something.”

Kara is already halfway into her Santa suit, the oversized belt slipping awkwardly around her waist. “Is it too late to fake an alien emergency?” she asks, clutching the beard like it’s her last lifeline.

“Not a chance,” Lena interjects, stepping closer with an air of mock authority. “You’re Santa, Kara. And you,” she says, turning to you with a grin that’s a little too pleased, “are the most charming elf this city has ever seen.”

“Charming, huh?” you deadpan, jingling your hat sarcastically. “Well, you’d better hope my charm distracts everyone from whatever this is.”

Lena just laughs, reaching up to adjust your hat. Her fingers linger a second too long against your temple, and the playful atmosphere shifts almost imperceptibly.

“You look perfect, darling.” she says softly, her voice dipping into something just for you.

“You're the worst.” You whine.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight,” she says softly, voice low, sending warmth spreading through you. “I’ll give you the best Christmas gift you ever got.”

Before you can respond, Kara makes a dramatic retching sound. “Gross, so gross. That’s my little sister you’re talking about!”

You try to stifle a laugh, biting your lip to keep the moment from being completely ruined.

“Alright,” you say, now with a newfound resolve and excitement. “Let’s spread the Christmas spirit! Make some kids happy! Bring joy to the world! Get this over with so I can spread…” you look at Lena, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Other things.”

Kara groans, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “I hate it here.” she mutters, fully bearded up and clearly resigned to her fate.

The Foundation atrium glimmers under a canopy of twinkling lights and gold garlands, with an imposing Christmas tree as the centerpiece. At the podium, draped in Lena’s signature sleekness, stands an event itinerary. Amid the festive buzz, Kara struggles with her Santa suit’s awkward belt, while Alex takes as many pictures of you two as she can.

“Smile, Santa! Where's the spirit?” Alex asks, making Kara roll her eyes in response. “You smell like beef and cheese. You don’t smell like Santa.”

“And I'm about to turn you into the ghost of Christmas past.”

“I’m just saying, you're not looking like Santa from where I stand. Y/N, on the other hand…” Alex teases, gesturing at you, “is pulling off the elf thing a little too well.”

You shoot her a withering look. “And you’re pulling off being insufferable even better. Have you been practicing that?”

“Nah, I’m just that good.” Alex winks, unfazed, while Kara groans at her belt again.

Lena passes the three of you, exuding authority. “Enough, you three. We have guests arriving soon, and I need my helpers focused. Alex, stops distracting them.” She doesn’t have to say much more for Alex to understand she has somewhere else she needs to be.

The gala begins, Lena commanding the room with an effortless grace as she steps to the podium. Beneath the lights, she unveils a radiant gemstone encased in glass, its glow almost magical. Her voice is warm yet reverent as she recounts its lineage. “This heirloom is a symbol of resilience and generosity—values I believe we should reflect in our actions tonight.”

The applause crescendos, but your focus drifts to a figure in the corner of the room. His stance is too casual, his attention fixed on the display case. You frown, nudging Kara.

“See Scrooge over there?” you murmur.

Kara squints in the direction you indicate, her expression sharpening into one of concern. “Yeah. Definitely not here for the hors d’oeuvres.”

The figure near the display case shifts slightly, and you feel your instincts bristle. Kara leans in, her Santa beard barely staying in place as she whispers, “How do you wanna play it?”

You glance at Lena, who’s addressing a donor with poised charm. “Cool for now,” you mutter. “Let’s not ruin her big night unless we’re sure.”

Kara frowns but nods, keeping her voice low. “Alright, but if he makes a move, Santa’s coming to town.”

The man’s hand finally dips into his pocket, and your pulse quickens. “Kara,” you whisper urgently, “I think this is it.”

Kara steps forward, her cheerful “Ho, ho, ho!” ringing out louder than necessary. The crowd turns toward her, startled, as she waves exaggeratedly. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Who wants a picture with Santa?”

The distraction buys you a moment to move closer to the man. “Excuse me,” you say brightly, jingling your bells. “Can I help you with something?”

The man freezes, his expression carefully blank. “No, just admiring the display.”

Your smile tightens. “Well, it’s a beauty, isn’t it? But maybe you should admire it from over there. Wouldn’t want to block the view for the other guests.”

He hesitates for a beat too long, then retreats with a forced smile. Kara’s booming laughter fills the space as she sweeps a delighted child onto her lap, but her eyes never leave yours.

“This guy is up to something.” you murmur into the comms.

“Noted,” Alex replies. “Stay close, Little Helper. Santa might need backup sooner than we thought.”

Kara continues her Santa charade, bouncing another giggling child on her lap as she bellows, “Have you been naughty or nice this year?” The sheer volume of her voice makes even the chandeliers tremble, but it’s effective—nearly every eye is on her.

Meanwhile, you trail the would-be thief, staying just close enough to keep him from feeling entirely comfortable. He’s circling back toward the gemstone, but this time, he’s moving faster, more deliberately.

“Kara,” you murmur into the comms, “Scrooge is making his move.”

Kara responds with a booming laugh that somehow manages to be both cheerful and ominous. “Santa knows when you’ve been bad!” she announces, catching the man’s gaze across the room. He startles, nearly tripping over his feet, but quickly covers it with a nervous smile.

Alex’s voice cuts in. “I’ve got a clear visual of him. Stay on him, Little Helper. Let Santa handle the crowd.”

You smirk. “Roger that, Boss Frost.”

Lena, ever the observant one, catches your eye as you slip closer to the display. Her brow arches in silent inquiry, but instead of drawing attention, she adjusts her posture, subtly blocking the view of the crowd as the man reaches for the gemstone.

Without thinking, you jingle your bells obnoxiously and shout, “Santa! Someone’s trying to ruin Christmas!”

Kara steps forward, her voice booming through the atrium. “Ho, ho, ho! What’s this? A Grinch trying to steal Christmas?”

Heads swivel toward her, laughter and curiosity rippling through the crowd as Kara yanks at her Santa belt with exaggerated frustration. Throwing her arms wide, she grins, “Alright, folks, don’t worry. He won't turn this into a nightmare before Christmas!”

“Subtle,” Alex mutters, smirking as you both slip closer to the display case under the cover of Kara’s theatrics.

Kara, undeterred, grabs a candy cane from a nearby table and wields it like a sword. “Nobody messes with Christmas on my watch! I’ll tinsel them up like a Christmas tree!”

The thief freezes, clearly unsettled by the sudden attention. He glances at the exits but hesitates too long.

You step up behind him, moving with deliberate quiet. Then, with a light tap on his shoulder, you lean in. “Guess who?” you whisper. The thief jerks around, only for you to grin sharply. “It’s Cindy Lou, motherfucker.”

His eyes widen as he stumbles back into Alex, who’s already waiting, arms crossed.

“Feeling festive?” Alex asks dryly, blocking his path. “Or just really bad at this whole ‘stealth’ thing?”

The thief’s hand twitches toward his jacket, but Alex raises an eyebrow, daring him. “Don’t,” she warns. “Unless you’re pulling out mistletoe, in which case, I’m still not interested.”

The tension crackles for a moment before Kara’s voice cuts through. “Hey, Grinch! You’re not getting away from Santa that easily!” She waves the candy cane like a lasso, sending another round of laughter through the crowd.

The distraction buys you just enough time to hit the hidden panel on the display case, sealing the gemstone with a soft hiss.

“Gemstone secured,” you murmur, stepping back as the thief realizes his prize is out of reach. You smirk at him. “Next move on you, but remember, you're not home alone.”

He snarls, lunging toward the exit, but you catch his arm and twists it behind his back with ease. “Really?” you say, exasperated. “In front of the whole Whoville? Bad move, Grinch.”

Kara strolls up, still in character. “Ho, ho, ho! What’s this? A naughty list candidate caught in the act?” She leans down, grinning at the thief. “Santa told you to be good folks! That guy is definitely getting coal.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Alex cuts in, dragging the thief toward the exit. “Let’s debrief our Grinch somewhere quieter before Lena realizes how close this got to disaster.”

Kara watches them go, and you hurry back to her side, to help her with the line of kids forming before her. “See? Nailed it. The Grinch didn’t stand a chance.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Sure, Santa. You really saved the day.”

Kara winks. “I always do, Cindy Lou Who.”

The rest of the event goes smoothly. Though no one in the crowd actually thought they were in any danger tonight—blaming it all on a fun play—you can still feel the energy in the room shift: more relaxed, more festive. The holiday magic is settling in.

You move to the side, leaning against the grand staircase railing, watching the crowd. Your thoughts scatter, and when you find a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised at you from the other side of the party, your thoughts belong to her and her alone.

When she finally reaches you, she doesn’t say anything at first—just takes your hand in hers, the warmth of her touch grounding you after the whirlwind of the night. She leans in, her voice low, a hint of playful affection dancing through her words. “My elf. My hero.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the flush creeping up your neck. You squeeze her hand, allowing the quiet between you to settle, the sound of the party dimming around you.

“I guess you can say that I’m a Christmas miracle,” you tease, the words light but laden with emotion.

Lena smiles, her thumb brushing across the back of your hand, her eyes never leaving yours. “Well, you are, in more ways than one.” Her voice softens, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink around you both. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so happy I have you to spend Christmas with, now.”

Your heart stutters, the weight of her words settling over you like a blanket. You know Lena—strong, independent, always the one holding things together. But in this moment, with the soft glow of the Christmas lights framing her face, she feels more real, more vulnerable. And it makes something inside you twist.

“Lena," you begin, your voice shaky. “I love you.”

“Oh?” She steps back a little to scan your face. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head as she furrows her brows, confused. “I’ve said it a million times... when you were sleeping next to me.”

She chuckles, her laughter like bells ringing in the quiet. “Well, I guess that makes two of us.” She comes closer for a kiss.

“Are you sure you’re going to kiss an elf in front of all these people?”

“I’d kiss this elf in front of the whole world.” And she does. She leans in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it feels like the world is holding its breath. It’s sweet and unhurried, the kind of kiss that feels like a promise, like the calm after the storm. When she pulls away, her fingers trail along your cheek, and her smile is filled with something deeper, something you can’t quite put into words.

You lean in, resting your forehead against hers, feeling the steadiness of her breath against your skin. 

“Merry Christmas, my love. I love you.”

Before you can answer, Alex’s voice cuts through the moment. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals! Now get your hands off my little sister, Luthor.”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it eventually, Alex.”

It’s Kara’s voice that chimes in from behind you this time. “Never!” But despite her words, her arms wrap around you both—belly and all—as she pulls Alex closer too. “I love you guys. Merry Christmas!”

Christmas has always been your favorite time of year, the season of magic and joy. But now, as you stand here with Lena’s hand in yours, Kara’s arm around your shoulders, and Alex’s grumbling failing to mask her affection, you realize you’ve found something even better. Family. Love. A home that glows brighter than any Christmas light ever could.

And if you could ask Santa for one thing—it would be that this, all of this, lasts forever.

[quinnyundertow]

The first time that y / n interacts with toji he basically sexually assaults her, do you think that he has the capacity to take advantage of someone in that way? I dont mean to offend you when asking this, because I look up to you a lot as someone who writes very well. But I think that this facet of a character being brought up is very interesting, because people don't really like to talk about how sometimes their favorite characters (that are canonically bad people) can do bad things that aren't just killing other people. Their favorite characters can do bad things like raping people. And I think it's really interesting how you picked up on that, I guess this is my long winded way up asking you to expand upon it because I really appreciate the thoughtfulness put into the way you write these characters.

I want to preface this by saying this is my opinion from my character studies. I don’t want to debate or argue with anyone about his character and why he is the way he is. Now on to the long response.

No offense taken at all. Toji is such an interesting character because he’s very realistically human. It’s going to take me delving into his character to answer this. Toji was created in a horrifying environment (Zenin clan) that had no respect for women or life. He was born and trained to be a killer of curses and people alike. He was told he was nothing because he lacked powers a sorcerer would have while being told he was still better than women and non-Zenin’s. Talk about a chaotic and confusing environment. Despite it all, miraculously, he fell in love and forsook everything he was taught growing up. He clearly respected and loved Mamaguro. He went straight and narrow and stopped being a hit man for her. Unfortunately, they lived happily ever is not the way this story ends.

In the second phase of Toji’s life, post mamaguro he falls into a deep depression where he forsakes any and all things that made him human. He refuses to consciously let himself care about anyone (including himself) because he can’t take the agony of losing someone he loves again like that. He shows this to the point where he has moments where he “forgets” Megumi exists. He falls back on what he was taught growing up and feeds his darker emotions. He’s known as the sorcerer killer, and he shows his total disregard for life by killing Kuroi a completely unnecessary death in the hidden inventory because he didn’t care enough to hold back. He takes a job to murder a child (Riko) because he wants to stick it to sorcerer society. He’s self destructive and kills just to drink and gamble all the money away. He’s also according to Gege a womanizer that sleeps with older more wealthy women for money.

Here’s the thing a lot of people refuse to see. Toji doesn’t have to do any of these things; he chooses to. If he truly wanted to destroy sorcerer society he could have. He could have wiped out the Zenin clan easily. If he wanted to just gamble and drink 24/7 he could rob banks or the rich. Instead he chooses to debauch himself and sink into every indecent thing he knows; it’s like an advanced form of self harm. He drinks to forget what a piece of shit he is now and to forget what he’s lost (mamaguro) and what he’s running from (Megumi). While killing, strategizing, and gambling for a brief high. He has moments of clarity, right before he dies and when he sells Megumi off, but those are few and far between.

So back to the original question. Does Toji have the capacity to sexually assault someone? Rape someone? In my opinion, Absolutely. He would do it, enjoy basking in the animalistic side of it and absolutely despise himself for doing it afterwards.

Why do I think this? He degrades and abuses Suguru (a child) and enjoys it. He’s sadistic and enjoys mocking and beating him when he’s already knocked out. He only doesn’t murder him because it would be inconvenient to deal with the curses Suguru holds in his body. Toji has proven he knows right from wrong and that he doesn’t have to be a hit man to survive. He’s already done these things before and is choosing not to.

All these factors considered he can and does still choose to hold back or be a “good” person at times. He acknowledges he’s a shit father by selling off Megumi saying he’s better off that way despite knowing how bad it is even to the blessed. He holds back from murdering the man he bumped at the gambling salon because it wasn’t worth the effort. He doesn’t kill the Zenin clan because he still cares about them despite everything. Finally, he sacrifices his life for his son at the end of it all.

Gege is a master character creator when he takes the time to (allowed creative time and freedom to). Which is what makes Toji such a fun character to write. He has shown the capacity to be good and evil. He has the capacity to change if someone gives enough of a fuck and if he allows it.

Thank you for the question and you’ll have to see how our YN fares in this next arc. ☺️

[ye4gerism]

hiii😊 I kinda have a few questions about curly’s mom Ngl and maybe his dad. I think my first question for his mom though is….is she racist or just a toxic boy mom or both. I also kinda wonder like what makes her like jimmy so much. Then about his dad. Ik we don’t really know much about him but I just wanted to know like does he likes us at all or more than the mom. I also kinda want to understand curly and his mom’s dynamic. Like when it comes to the toxic boy mom is she trying to see the husband she wants in curly. Because it kinda just came to point where is like these weird boy moms are kinda grooming or being weird with their son. Or is it more of just she’s jealous like jimmy but they aren’t jealous in the same way. I guys my class question is just why did curly’s mom and dad and how did curly take it. Also sorry if this is a lot😭 happy holidays 🎄

author’s note hi! thank you for your ask. this is a long post and i don’t want to clog up the feed. so click ‘keep reading’ to keep reading lol.

content good luck captain

ok so, here’s the long answer to your first question 😭 as you’ve probably noticed i am a black writer and make it my purpose to write for readers who look like me. the mouthwashing fandom is still so new and i haven’t really seen any black reader stories for curly (or really anyone) except for @grimmsbride who i’ve seen writing for curly and daisuke (check them out!).

because i still want an audience to cater to (and i don’t know what demographic i’m actually pulling from my fics), i would say yes and yes to your question about curly’s mom in good luck, captain. i could definitely see her being prejudice to reader if they’re poc and is most definitely a toxic boy mom. whatever the case is for you, she’ll never really see you as the best fit for her son.

as for jimmy, i’ve mentioned he grew up with curly in happy birthday, jolene. she just sees him as another son just based on shared history and proximity. he’s family.

i haven’t thought much about curly’s dad and just now realized i probably should have included him and his reaction to the tuplar crash in best wishes, curly. i feel that curly really favors his father and i hinted in dream of fish that his mom doesn’t really like that. as it’s been previously mentioned, he lives in australia and had most of the custody over curly. i imagine him as a really chill dude who’s really really funny and charming and likes to explore. he’d probably get remarried to someone who shares his humor and sense of adventure. when reader and curly are dating, she’s only spoken to mr. curly a few times over facetime or skype. but he likes you and accepts you as his son loves you tons. he let curly propose to you in his home.

i would say that during the events of best wishes, curly, he didn’t come visit you in person as it was hard for him to handle the loss of his son but he did call from time to time. even when curly came back, it was still tough for him to see his son but he still maintains a relationship with him.

curly respects his mom but there is a limit to their relationship. he did go to school in australia and came to stay with her on breaks - he didn’t get to see her all the time and as he grew, he tries to maintain a healthy and balanced relationship with her. he got closer to her when he decided to go to college in the united states and she really takes advantage of their proximity. i wouldn’t say she’s grooming him. she left a marriage that she felt wasn’t perfect and would lonve to be involved in curly’s decisions when it comes to who he’s in love with. sometimes she’ll suggest the daughters of her friends from work or church bc she thinks they’ll fit in her idea of what curly’s family and future should look like.

over time, i feel that she would be jealous of reader bc she got the family that mrs. former curly wanted.

mr. curly and mrs. former curly just fell out of their rhythm. they were high school sweethearts and had the perfect white picket fence life and it just didn’t work out one day. after countless arguments, curly’s dad decided to file for divorce and mrs. former curly signed them in a heartbeat. obvs curly was confused and heart broken as his parents did a good job hiding their issues and he couldn’t fathom why they would separate. having to go back and forth between continents was stressful at first but it became a routine for him.

and no worries about the length of your ask. i appreciate your interest in good luck, captain! happy holidays to you too!