#merry late christmas to all who celebrate!!! i was hoping to have this out by then but. blehhh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pathologicalreid · 1 month ago

Text

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an ��o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #spencer reid dilf agenda

1K notes · View notes

rafesbowbunny · 1 month ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 bunny!reader's snowy christmas with bf!rafe

summary; rafe surprises you on christmas day, then bunny!reader surprises him with the best christmas present he could ask for ૮꒰ ྀི>⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

c!w; mdni !! soft!dom!rafe, established relationship, mentions of a previous argument, use of the nicknames rafey, baby, and bunny obviously, making out, heavy petting, restraints (handcuffs), i guess you could say roleplay? (she wears bunny ears), 'unprotected' sex, p in v, dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, slight breeding kink - they go at it like bunnies if you catch my drift loll.

notes; merry christmas to those who celebrate ! either way here's a little piece about our favourite girl and rafe enjoying christmas day tehe & sorry i didn't wanna make this too longgg !

you and rafe had gotten into a huge fight over some guys hitting on her at a kook christmas party, three days before christmas, this might've been the biggest one ever.

you'd been crying for three days, absolutely beside yourself. now here you were on christmas eve, alone and driving to a huge ski cabin that you and rafe had previously booked but you'd forgotten until yesterday when you got an email from airbnb.

the drive had been quiet and dull, not even your favourite music being able to cheer you up. it was late when you pulled up to the lodge, the area completely dark as the place was secluded, you pulled your pink suitcases from the car and dragged them through the snow and onto the porch. thank god the keys were where the owner said they'd been hidden, you didn't know what you'd do if you had to find a way to get into the warm lodge at 7 'oclock at night.

you swung the door open, instantly the smell of pine hit you and you walked in, locking the door behind you and breathing out deeply as you set your bags down. you beamed at the christmas tree sitting in the corner of the big cozy living room, it was bare but the thought counted, you made a mental note to give the place a good review so far.

you headed to the huge wooden staircase, sighing and wishing rafe was here to effortlessly carry your bags, and probably you, up them. it took you pulling with all your strength, the bags bumping up every step to finally have them there. you walked into the master bedroom smiling at the soft and absolutely massive bed in front of you before frowning, remembering you would be sleeping alone on this trip.

you took a while to unpack, seeing as no one else was here you thought you might as well just do what you want and relax. it was nearing midnight when you were sat at the vanity in the corner, doing your skincare before bed. finally you cozied into the huge bed, laying dead middle of it. it felt wrong. completely bare, especially as you lay there in a little cami and pink victoria secret pants still adorning your legs when they'd normally be off if rafe had any say in it.

eventually, you drifted off to sleep, a frown situated on your face.

you thought you were imagining things when you heard jingling coming from downstairs, half awake with your eyes still closed a million thoughts ran through your head. you sat up quickly, realising there in fact had to be someone downstairs, the sound was real. what the hell?

you pulled rafe's grey college hoodie over your head before sneaking carefully downstairs, praying that someone hadn't decided to rob the place for christmas, that was the last thing you needed. when you finally turned the corner and the living room came into better view, your mouth fell ajar at the sight in front of you.

"rafe..?" you squeaked, still not knowing if you were dreaming or not. the dirty blonde turned around from facing the christmas tree, it now covered in pink, white and silver ornaments, your ornaments.

his lips tightened into a warm smile, "hey baby... sorry, i hope i didn't wake you up too early" he cooed, your heart panged in your chest, his tone so warm and inviting. but you wanted answers.

you stepped off the bottom of the stairs, "what're you doing here?? how did you even get in?" you said, brow furrowed as your tried to comprehend the fact that your boyfriend, whom you were not even talking to with, was standing right in front of you.

he sighed, putting ornaments down from in his hands and walked towards you. he grabbed your hands softly and massaged them in his, "'m so sorry bunny. i never should've shouted at you the way i did, its not your fault every guy turns his head and tries something with you. i should be honoured to have a gorgeous girlfriend, not angry." he confessed, his brow furrowing in shame as he spoke. "i realised late last night and saw the reminder on our airbnb account so i rushed here early this morning, i couldn't ruin christmas for you baby."

you were speechless. your lips formed into a thin line as you stared at him in silence for a moment, he couldn't even look you in the eyes he was so ashamed. you drove into him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist, "i never wanna fight like that again rafe... i missed you so so much." you mumbled into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you too and kissed the top of your head.

"i know. 'm sorry you had to sleep alone here last night baby, i was gettin' all this ready" he softly replied, stroking your head as you rested it on his chest. "i hated it. and the bed is sooo big, i'm never doing that again" you huffed, pulling your face away from him now.

he looked down into your eyes with a sneaky grin, "really? hm. i wanna see"

you pulled him by the hand as the two of you walked upstairs and into the bedroom, your stuff kind of everywhere, contrasting the cozy rustic setting. he was smirking even more now as the two of you gazed on the huge soft bed, "see, it was so weird not having you next to me." you pointed out. rafe slowly nodded, scanning the clutter of your things across the room when his eyes landed on a little white christmas present tied up with a red bow.

"oh... that um, that's for you" you remarked, walking over to grab it with flushed cheeks. rafe beamed at you and sat on the bed, "you're blushing quite a lot baby, is this a present for me... or us.?"

you shrugged sheepishly, handing the box to him, he just chuckled a little before pulling the bow off and opening it. underneath the tissue paper, there sat a fluffy and white lace lingerie set, with bunny ears and fluffy handcuffs too with a little note on top that said "since you always say i'm your bunny, i'm your snow bunny today baby <3"

his lips parted has he stared down at the gift, note in hand, completely stunned. rafe had no idea that you'd be into something like handcuffs, but ever since you'd gotten comfortable, him being your first time and all, he seemed to be discovering a lot about you sexually. this was the second most shocking thing, the first being that you recently seemed to always want to have sex with him. he called you bunny affectionately for the longest time but had no idea how accurate he was when it came down to joking to topper and kelce about you two always 'going at it like bunnies'.

"oh jesus bunny this is..." he breathed deeply, shaking his head, "this is... wow." he looked up at you with wild eyes, an ecstatic grin planted on his face now. you fiddled with your fingers behind your back nervously, smiling back at him, you were so glad he loved his gift.

you managed to squeak out, "wanna try out your gift now..? or-" he jumped up and scooped your face with his big hands, planting a deep heated kiss on your lips before pulling apart, "yes now. the other gifts can wait."

heat radiated from your cheeks, you could feel it pooling in your tummy too as you grabbed the lingerie from the box, "okay rafey" you chirped, heading into the ensuite bathroom.

you swung the bathroom door open, smiling from ear to ear with the bunny ears perfectly perched on your head.

"oh bunny." rafe practically moaned, he was beside himself, his cock completely rock hard from the note and gift itself, seeing it on you now could nearly make him cum his pants.

you walked over to him, swaying your lips a little before planting your paws on his knees. he swallowed heavily, almost shaking in excitement. you'd never seen him so hard before, you could feel the hot spit pooling in your mouth, threatening to drool all over his pants. you palmed him slowly, making sure to tease at his swollen tip.

he grabbed your waist hungrily, "i'm so glad this cabin is so secluded, because i'm about to make you scream my name baby." he rasped, his gaze raking over your figure before he grinned up at you, pulling you onto his lap and immediately connecting his lips to yours desperately.

you rutted against his thick bulge, slipping little moans between kisses as the friction added to the heat in your tummy and the wetness in between your legs.

rafe groaned loudly with his hands grip bruising on your hips. "bunny- fuck, you keep grinding on my dick like that and i'm gonna cum right here, right now." he admitted, all breathy. you pulled back with a smile, your face flushed from how turned on you are, nodding you just tugged at his shirt before sliding your hands under, feeling his toned chest.

he practically ripped the long sleeve off, wanting to be skin to skin with only the lacey, fluffy bralette in the way. rafe drove into your tits, they were spilling out of the top, making it easy for him to lick and suckle on your sensitive flesh even through the cups.

your hands trailed down to rafe's bulge, wanting it out from under all the fabric now. you yanked at the button and tore down the zipper, chewing at your bottom lip in anticipation.

your face was now mashed into the bed, eyes rolling back, rafe had discarded his clothes and your panties long ago. unfortunately he did rip the stringy fabric apart getting to your wet cunt but he mumbled the promise of a replacement, besides, you couldn't care less at this point.

he was nailing you from behind, your arms in cuffs behind your back that he was tugging on. deep hard strokes as his pelvis hit your ass, causing the flesh to bounce back, leaving an amused smirk on rafe's lips. "fuck- your pussy's clenching me so good, you love being manhandled hmm?" he rasped, still driving his cock into you as he spoke. you just responded with an incoherent satisfied mumble, completely fucked out already, rafe had been throwing you around the large plush bed and he didn't intend on stopping anytime soon.

"aww 's my bunny been fucked dumb? brain not working from this huge cock?" he teased before sliding his dick out, still throbbing and erect, he flipped you over with a grin and watched as you instinctively let your legs fall open for him. your pussy was sopping with your juices, and a previous creampie rafe had released into you before going right back to driving his cock into you.

he grabbed one of your legs and threw it up against his shoulder, your knees so weak it hung loosely over. rafe began dragging his huge leaking cock over your folds, making sure to get to your weeping hole and push only his fat tip in for a second before pulling out and toying with your clit again. "mmm, rafey..." you groaned in frustration, all you could think of, all you wanted, was him continuing to jackhammer you into the bed.

when you least expected it, he finally obliged, gripping roughly on a hip with one hand and a thigh with another. "god bunny, 'm g'na fill this pretty pussy with my cum again," he strained, "'g'na be so full up, your brain's never g'na recover."

you drew out a moan, as he picked up his pace, plowing into you, the bunny ears still on your head bouncing with his thrusts. he placed a hand on your tummy where you could spot a large bulge poking earlier, pressing down and your eyes rolled back when he began toying with your clit too.

the plap-plap-plap of his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as you were reaching your peak made your head spin. "ray! ... g'na cum-" you squeaked out just a second before your cunt clenched around him, milking him into spilling into your begging pussy, groaning gutturally.

rafe buckles on top of you, too fucked out to jam his leaking cum back inside you, "you're so perfect" he mumbled into the crook of your neck. both your sweaty bodies clung together in the sheets until rafe slowly lifted himself up, sliding out of you finally.

he ran a hand through his greasy bangs with a dopey grin, "c'mon bunny, gotta clean ourselves up now" he cooed, gesturing towards the large ensuite as he looked at the sticky mess between your thighs.

you smiled up at him, taking the bunny ears off, knowing he was gonna have you on your knees in a minute while the water rushed over the both of you.

445 notes · View notes

lu-cider · 1 month ago

Text

I WISH YOU ALL WHO CELEBRATE A MERRY (ALBEIT VERY LATE) CHRISTMAS!!! 🎄🎉🎉🎁💕 I HOPE YOU ALL RECEIVED EVERYTHING YOU WANTED AND ALL THE LOVE YOU DESERVED!!! [EXTRAS UNDER CUT]

I had so much fun with this drawing and I really like how it came out!! regardless of the slightly incorrect perspective and not quite right shading, I love it very much and I'm happy to be giving you A drawing at all during this giving season. I am very lucky to have an audience, especially such a nice and supportive one. You all deserve so much and I'm happy and so grateful you're all here. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! 💕💕💕🎄🎁🎉💕🎊🎊🫶🎉🫶

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat fanart #mk #mk1 #mk fanart #mk1 fanart #mk fandom #johnny cage #mk1 johnny cage #raiden #mk raiden #mk1 raiden #kung lao #mk1 kung lao #kenshi takahashi #mk1 kenshi

427 notes · View notes

heart-eyed-love · 1 month ago

Text

Charms

Summary | Eddie has a small gift for you before you both leave for Christmas break

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing

Word Count | 1.2k

An | Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, this is coming out late :( but I hope everyone had a good day!

It was the last day before Christmas break, and you were more than relieved to say the least. You need a 2 week break away from this shit hole. And while you had your friends, you still needed a break from this place.

You were gonna go visit some of your family members during the break, not the plans you had originally hoped for, but in your opinion just about anything was better than this school.

You had slightly brought up to your friends in passing that you were gonna be out of town during break, but it wasn’t something you had necessarily thought they’d care to remember. And it wasn’t something you’d be offended about them forgetting either way, you knew something you tend to fade to the background of settings.

So that afternoon, as you shoved all the books and papers you’d no longer need in your backpack over this break back into your locker, you let yourself sigh in relief as you now held a significantly lighter backpack.

“Hey…” The voice sneaks up behind you, causing you to jump. And when you turn to look at the source and smirking Eddie comes into view.

“Hi?” You answer back, raised brows at the boy in front of you, “What’s up?” You ask, shutting your locker as you do, and he can’t help but take notice of the jangling of your charm bracelet he knows all too well.

“Oh you know, nothing much. Excited to get out of here?”

“Yeah, I mean, who isn’t? It’s school… so I’m pretty sure everyone is eager to get out of here… aren’t you?” You ask back, looking up at the boy in front of you. Even after hanging out with him and the hellfire, you still feel a little awkward around him.

“Oh yeah totally, I’m gonna spend my whole break probably getting high, and doing jack shit, you know, basically the whole point of the break for me, right?” He’s all smirky and it’s so distracting when he gets like this… well when he gets like this with you. You never completely got used to the times where you’re the center of his attention.

“Yeah, right… Sounds nice…” You nod softly as you throw your backpack over your shoulder.

“It will be… if you weren’t going out of town I’d invite you over…” He’s hasn’t necessarily gone shy but he’s not as confident as he normally is and it’s throwing you off a bit. And If what he says is true, and he’d really like to invite you over, you’d take that over this trip to see a few family members who don’t necessarily give too much of a shit about you. But no. Now you have to miss out on the one thing you’ve always wanted.

“That sounds a lot better than having to go hang out with a bunch of family members who don’t even know who I am…” You chuckle slightly to yourself, and he smiles sweetly back at you and you can’t help yourself from feeling distracted from the look on his face.

“Yeah? Well that’s kinda why I came over here…” He pulls his back from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for a second, before pulling out a poorly wrapped box. A small bow sitting on top of it. Your brows raise in question, “Uhm… I got you something… you know, for Christmas.” He smiles.

“Oh shit, really? I- I didn’t get you anything….” You feel bad immediately, you had no idea he was gonna get you a gift, if you had you would’ve allowed yourself to go all out for him like you always truly wanted.

“Oh no! No, don’t worry about it… it’s more like just so you don’t forget about us while you’re gone…”

“Forget about you?”

“Yeah, you know… Hellfire… me.” He smirks. To be quite frank he didn’t give a shit about Hellfire in this stance, forget about them all you want just don’t go forgetting about him.

“I’m only gonna be gone for like 2 weeks, if that.” You say with a teasing laugh, that has the soft smile reappearing on his face, and you don’t notice it, but his face heats up.

“Yeah, well here anyways…” He hands the box with a shrug.

You grab the box from him with a smile, “Do you want me to open it now?”

“Yeah, go for it…”

You pull the nicely tied bow from the top, leaving only the terribly wrapped box, and you couldn’t help but feel a swarm of butterflies. It was cute. He was cute. “Sorry, apparently I’m shit at wrapping.” He chuckled lightly.

“It’s alright.” You smile up at him, before looking back down to ripping the paper off the gift and a small box is now in front of you, Eddie grabs the wrapping paper from your hands for you, shoving it into his backpack.

You open the box and a small charm is revealed to you, it’s a small black bat. It’s beautiful, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a charm. It reminds you more of Eddie than the rest of the boys and you can’t help but like it more for that fact.

Eddie inspects your face as you look at the charm. He saw it at the mall while he was trying to find something for Wayne and for some reason he just needed to get it for. But damn, for some reason this small piece of metal was more expensive than he thought it needed to be.

But whatever it was for you anyways.

“You like it?” He asks, slightly nervous at the lack of words coming from you.

You look up from the charm in the box and see that smidge of fear in his face, “What? Oh my gosh! Yes, of course!” And the smile you love so much graces his face, “I love it, thank you, Eddie.”

“I’m glad you like it… thought it would go nice with all the other ones you have…” He lets his fiddle with the charm bracelet on your wrist, and you blush a tad bit at the feeling of his fingers against it.

“I really do…” You watch as the hallways drain of students and you know your time with him is limited, your bus is gonna leave soon, “My bus is about to leave… but thank you again, Eddie. It means a lot…”

“Yeah, of course… Uh, I mean I could drive you home if you want? Are you leaving today?”

“Oh, uh… No, we’re leaving tomorrow. Like ass crack of dawn.” You roll your eyes.

“Damn, first day of break and you’re still having to walk up early?” He laughs, and you can’t help but smile at the sounds.

“Right? That’s what I said, she just told me to get over it so it looks like I’m waking up early… but uh, yeah… a ride would be really nice…” I nod with a shy smile.

“Sweet, follow me…” He leads you out to his van, one you’ve seen time and time before but only ever rarely been in it. Definitely never just the two of you. He opened the van door for you and everything.

You were definitely gonna come back from break with a gift of your own for him.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #heart-eyed-love

440 notes · View notes

makeyoumine69 · 1 month ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Bitch!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: On your way to the American Gardens Building for your family's Christmas party, you suddenly meet a mysterious man from the 11th floor, unaware that your days were already numbered the moment he set his eyes on you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NONCON smut, dark angst, sedating, kidnapping, blood play & kink, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, spitting, multiple orgasms, rough vaginal and anal sex, creampie, dumbification, humiliation, vaginal & butt plugs, sex torture, canonical violence, sex toys, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, masturbating, pussy slapping, nipple play, finger sucking and maybe something more.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 6k

𝐀/𝐍: Merry Christmas everyone! Since the dark option won the poll for the Christmas Special, I brought you this, hehe! I hope you enjoy it, but please read the warnings first!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]🪓

Christmas Eve was one of the busiest times of the year when people would go shopping like crazy and all the stores were so crowded that sometimes you had to spend a lot of time standing in line, but that was something you got used to because it was not a big problem at all. What was really a problem was the fact that you had to work during Christmas and that was really frustrating even though your parents tried to reassure you that they would wait for you and wouldn't start celebrating. That was really sweet of them, but it didn't really help with your exhaustion after a long day at work, and you still had to buy something for Christmas, which completely slipped off your mind - you loved making presents for your family, but oh, sometimes it was so hard to guess what present would really surprise them.

Walking down the street one block away from the American Gardens Building—a place where your parents lived—you stopped at the ATM to get some cash, and from that moment on you had the feeling that someone was watching you, but every time you turned around you saw no one. Although it was not very late, the streets were pretty empty, so when you accidentally bumped into a stranger while walking away from the ATM, you got really scared, but after a brief exchange of apologies, you and the stranger, who turned out to be an old man, walked off in different directions. Still, something was nagging at you, a strange fear, the nature of which you couldn't really comprehend.

A little later, you realized that most of the stores were already closed, so buying a gift was not really an option—you would have to do it tomorrow—but at least you managed to get some flowers for your mother. Soon you reached the American Gardens building—an embodiment of luxury that towered over the streets like a silent sentinel. Holding a bouquet of flowers and opening the heavy door that refused to let you through suddenly became a challenge for you, if not for the mysterious stranger who appeared out of nowhere.

"Need some help?" The man asked, and somewhere you recognized that deep, velvety voice.

As you turned, you set your eyes on the handsome young man holding a briefcase in one hand and a cigar in the other. "Oh, that would be much appreciated," you replied, watching as he gallantly opened the door for you. "The doorman is probably off today."

"Pretty sure he does, it's Christmas," he said, and you both went in, passing the concierge, who nodded politely when he saw the two of you. "Do you live here? I think I’ve definitely met you before.”

As you walked through the polished lobby to the elevators, his question made you wonder where else you could see him other than here, since he seemed to live here, but then a flash of memories pierced through your head like a bunch of small fireworks.

"Patrick Bateman, right?" You smiled and pressed the flowers closer to your chest as you both stood by the elevators, waiting. "I don't live here, but my parents do," the man gave you a cheerful grin, and then the elevator arrived with a characteristic ding. "I remember you used to talk to my dad about some communal problems and stuff."

"Oh, right! Now I totally remember."

As you both entered the elevator and the door closed smoothly behind you, Patrick leaned against the metal wall right next to the control panel, while you stood almost right next to the door, the bouquet of white roses feeling the enclosed space with their sweet scent.

"What floor do you live on?" You asked as the elevator began its ascent.

"Eleventh," Bateman replied briefly, rummaging in the pocket of his trench coat with a rustle. "Just above the floor where your family lives."

Standing half-turned, you could see his looming figure beside you in the reflection of the gleaming metal door of the elevator, and though your inner voice screamed that something was definitely wrong, you couldn't move, as if paralyzed by an invisible spell.

Subtly, Patrick slipped the white piece of cloth out of his pocket, though his face was still blank, not a single muscle twitching, as the mask he wore was practiced to perfection, making it impossible for anyone around to read what was on his mind.

"Hmmm, you surprised me," he murmured suddenly, slowly approaching you. "I really thought you would recognize me right away."

"I have a bad memory for faces," your breathing hitched as you said that. "Meeting too many people every day doesn't help."

Tensed to the limit, you looked up at the small display where the floor numbers changed one by one, and when you finally saw the tenth floor, you felt relieved, but it was too premature, because the doors didn't open. A bone chilling fear crept into your chest, your heart beating fast against your ribcage, and the second you heard Bateman move behind your back, you were on the verge of screaming— unfortunately it was too late.

With a practiced motion, the man pressed a piece of cloth over your mouth. "Shhhh," he grabbed your trembling little form, giving you no chance to fight him, for he was much stronger, much bigger, and the strange odor that filled your nostrils made you see black holes between your eyes. "You don't want anyone to hear you...especially your dear family."

You tried desperately to hit him with the bouquet, but the harder you struggled, the tighter he held you in his arms. The second tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, your consciousness too fuzzy to think rationally, you realized that you were slowly passing out, but the rush of adrenaline was still kicking in.

"Mmhhm!" You squealed as loud as you could, your hands squashing the flowers with a deadly grip, their sharp thorns sinking into your soft skin, but you couldn't feel it anymore. "Mmhm-help!"

Annoyed, the man clenched his teeth and grabbed your throat, almost strangling you here and there as he realized the chemical he used was not enough to knock you out. "If you don't shut your damn mouth," Patrick hissed, pulling you against his strong torso. "I'll break your fucking neck!"

Sobbing into the fabric now drenched in your tears and saliva, your eyes began to roll back in your head as your body slowly but surely went limp, and then you lost your grip on the bouquet, letting it fall to your feet on the elevator floor. Sensing that you were on the verge of fainting, Bateman increased the force of his grip around your neck, pinching the carotid artery until you finally lost consciousness, going weak in his hands like a broken doll.

With a weary sigh, the man kicked the flowers aside, scooped you closer in his arms, and stroked your face with a devilish smile that played on his smug face—a dark gleam sparkled in his dark, mad eyes. "Good girl," he purred into your ear, knowing you couldn't hear him anymore, giving you a light peck on the top of your head before lifting you up and pressing the 11th floor button on the control panel. "Say goodbye to your fucking parents, princess." With those words, Patrick took your hand and waved at the closed elevator door, while his other hand was busy pushing the handkerchief into your mouth to use as a gag in case you suddenly woke up.

Almost a month ago.

It was the last weekend of November and you decided to pay a visit to your family since you hadn't seen them in a long time. Your mother didn't even let you say a word when you entered the apartment because she was so excited to see you, but when you noticed an unfamiliar voice coming from the dining room, you stopped in your tracks and gave the old lady a confused look.

"I didn't know you had guests besides me," you said, taking off your coat. "Who is that?"

"Oh, don't worry, it's Mr. Bateman, he's our neighbor," your mother replied, gently rubbing your shoulder. "He just came by to talk to your father about the problems with the central heating."

Frowning, you didn't say anything in response, just followed your mother down the hall, and soon after you turned the corner, you took a moment to examine this "neighbor", not really noticing that he was looking at you in the same curious way.

This staring contest continued for some time until your father noticed your presence and gestured to the dining table for you to join them. "Don't stand there, darling. There's no need to be shy," he said, waving you over—you didn't know how to refuse in this situation, so you just obeyed. "Patrick, this is my dear daughter!"

As soon as your father said your name, Patrick gave you a toothy smile before taking your palm in his and planting a soft kiss on it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Slightly embarrassed, you couldn't even find the right words to reply, but your mother came out of nowhere with the tray of drinks and treats like your savior. The old lady placed the cups of freshly brewed coffee, a bowl of candies and various cookies, small milk chocolates and some truffles. Then she returned to the kitchen, excusing herself that she had to finish cooking dinner.

"So you guys have some serious communal issues here or what?" You asked, sipping your coffee and trying to escape Bateman's scrutinizing gaze.

"Well, I have to say that our utilities are in no hurry to correct the situation," Patrick explained, his hazel eyes tracing your face and then your lips as if he were deliberately humiliating you. "I heard that people on the second floor saw some rats."

"Rats?" You asked in disbelief. "I can't believe it! You're practically living in the most expensive neighborhood in Manhattan."

Your father sighed and put his hands on the table. "It's New York, darling. It's possible that our utility company just doesn't have enough money to maintain our building."

After your father finished his rant about the hard life in New York and how sometimes even rich people could have mundane problems like that, there was a brief moment of silence that was broken by your mother, who reentered the dining room with a phone in her hand.

"Honey, your doctor is calling," she chirped, getting everyone's attention. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Uh, please excuse me," the old man got up from the table and took the phone. "I'll be right back."

With that, your parents left the dining room, and for a moment, you had a panic attack—this man, Patrick Bateman, whose lips curled even more after the two of you were left alone, made you feel uncomfortable, but you couldn't even tell why.

Coughing nervously, you took another sip of coffee to clear your throat. "So," you began after the pause had become unforgivably long. "How are you going to celebrate Christmas?" God, that was probably the stupidest and most primitive question you ever asked, but your brain just refused to work properly. "People used to plan such things in advance."

Bateman raised the mug to his lips and looked at you over the rim. "Let me think," unlike you he drank black tea and never even touched any sweets. "Probably going to some Christmas party. No big deal though." The man licked his lips after another sip, and that gesture sent a tingle through your core that forced you to avert your eyes. "What about you? Pretty ladies like you usually spend Christmas with their loved ones?"

You almost choked on your coffee, choosing not the best time to take another refreshing sip, just to do something instead of sitting idle. "I...uh...to be honest, I don't...don't have any particular company for this Christmas, and besides, I have to work, so..."

"Really? Work? Oh, that sucks," Patrick complained worriedly. "Our government should make it illegal to work on Christmas."

Damn, this man was blessed with charisma and a gab that made you feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.

"Yeah, you're right," you managed to say, not really able to hide the broad smile that appeared on your face. "They definitely should."

A metallic, salty smell filled your nostrils. It took several attempts to finally open your eyes, as the lids seemed so heavy, as if they each weighed a ton. Blinking in confusion from the surrounding darkness, you suddenly felt something dripping on you—a warm, slightly sticky liquid, but when you managed to focus your vision, you noticed that it seemed to be red in color, and then you screamed, but you couldn't hear your voice as something tightly covered your mouth. After a few soft footsteps, a familiar voice echoed through the room, but you couldn't tell where exactly.

"Welcome back," Patrick crooned, stopping somewhere not far away when you heard his voice more clearly. "You had me worried," he said as he turned on the switch and the blinding light made your eyes water from its sharpness and you could finally look around to find yourself lying on the bed in a spacious room with white walls. "Because for a moment I thought you would never wake up."

Weeping quietly, you tried to move your limbs, but it didn't work either, because something was holding you tight. With all the strength you had left, you craned your neck to see a red ribbon wrapped around you, the way Christmas presents were usually wrapped, and you realized that the red liquid was blood...your blood? The thought almost made you vomit, but the duct tape on your mouth stopped you from making any sound.

"Do you like the ribbon? I think red really suits you, although I was thinking of picking something more innocent for you...pink or white or maybe beige," the man kept muttering in a casual tone that only added to the creepiness of the situation. "Oh, I forgot you can't talk," Bateman giggled, slowly sauntering across the room holding something shiny in his hands. "I got rid of your clothes because you looked like shit in them."

Damn it, did he really dare to do that? Tugging at the ribbon with your hands, you closed your eyes tightly, denying that everything here was real - you just needed to find a way to wake up from this nightmare.

But Patrick had other plans, and giving you a break was definitely not one of them, as he quickly rushed to the bed and hovered over you, pressing something sharp against your mound, and then you felt a searing pain as a cold metal cut your skin, as if you were not made of flesh and bones, but of some wax.

"Mhwwww," you cried in pain, jerking on the bed as you heard the oilcloth rustle beneath you. A small scarlet trail of your hot blood ran down your hip after another cut. No matter how hard you tried to free yourself, Bateman knew what he was doing, as the ribbon was securing you just the way he wanted , but still you were writhing as if you were lying on the burning coals. "Mmhm-ple-lease," you managed to whimper through the tape as it became soaked with your saliva. "S-s-t-top," your legs trembled uncontrollably as the man lowered the knife to your now exposed cunt, sliding the blade along your salacious folds but never pressing too hard. "Please-se."

You could even recognize your own voice because of how badly it was distorted. The fact that this psycho was waiting for you to wake up so that you could feel and see everything he was going to do to you made you so disgusted that you almost bit your own tongue. It would be much better if he just killed you and you could only guess what monstrous things he was going to do to you.

"What a pretty little pussy you have," Patrick grinned to himself, the knife still pointed at your womanhood. "When was the last time you had sex?" His question—so full of mockery and disgust, but he was so damn proud of it—remained unanswered, and he didn't bother to ask you again, because in reality he certainly didn't give a fuck. "You're dripping... and bleeding. I hope you know what that means? Luckily, we still have some time before you bleed out completely."

With his eyes still on you, Bateman got up from the bed and brought the knife to his mouth to lick your blood and flavor from it, savoring the taste—you could swear you heard him moan with satisfaction and that sound sent chills all over your body. That was insane. That was wrong. That was sick. And you were the witness to this depravity—you were literally the victim placed on the altar to satisfy all the dark needs of this beast.

Slowly, Patrick got rid of his suit, then his luxury loafers and garters. When the silk boxers were the only thing left on him, the man stopped and, unfortunately for you, walked back to you, but without actually getting on the bed, the man lifted his leg and placed it on the edge of the mattress next to your feet to get a prosper look at your naked, tortured, bleeding frame.

"People usually give each other presents for Christmas," he chimed in suddenly. "And since you already gave me a present," he pointed at your quivering figure lying beneath him. "You can ask me for anything," Bateman sneered in a teasing initiation. "But no cheating, you can't just ask me to let you go."

Panting, you closed your eyes for a fleeting second to consider the possible outcomes and whether you had any chance of getting out alive. Considering the circumstances—probably not. At one point, you even thought that asking him to give you a quick death was the best option, but then you reassured yourself that it was too early to give up.

Rocking from side to side, you mumbled something incoherently through the handmade gag, causing a hearty laugh to break out from Patrick's broad chest. "What is it, honey? Would you like me to remove it?" He leaned down to run his finger along your covered mouth. "All right, all right," he smiled wickedly and tugged at the edge of the tape. "But think twice before you say anything if you don't want it shoved down your throat."

A brief sting of pain rippled through your system as he removed the damned piece of tape and you were finally able to breathe properly, too close to choke on your own saliva. Never stopping to grin, the man stepped back to the floor and gave you an impatient stare in anticipation of your begging.

"You... c-can do whatever you want to me, but please... don't touch my family, sir." Every syllable you said took a lot of strength, but when you finished, Bateman couldn't hold back a wicked, maniacal chuckle.

"Holy shit," he grinned wildly, a knife still in one of his hands while another darted across the toned muscles of his chest before it reached his briefs and he grabbed his groin, rubbing his rock hard dick through the expensive material. "I can't remember the last time someone called me sir as sexy as that, you're something, little one," and with that Patrick finally raked his underwear down to free his thick cock, which sprang out like a fucking arrow. "See, I don't give a fuck about your family," his eyebrows furrowed as he began to stroke himself, the swollen tip already drooling with his pre-cum, which he smeared all over his shaft to smooth the friction. "And I'm gonna have my way with you in every possible scenario. So... enjoy the ride and try not to bleed out before I'm done with you."

Bateman quickly pulled his boxers back and got on top of you, and you began to thrash around on the bed with reckless abandon, giving it everything you had. "You... fucking monster... they will find you and lock you up in prison. You..." His big palm covered your mouth harshly, silencing you as if you were a little bug. In the end, Patrick sealed your mouth with the same duct tape, although it wasn't that sticky, he didn't care because the next thing he did was get up and walk out of the bedroom into another room.

For a moment you thought he went for some deadly weapons like scalpel and he was going to dissect you, cut out your intestines and fucking eat them while you were still alive. But then music began to play somewhere in the distance—a male vocal that was so familiar, but your tormented mind couldn't figure out who it belonged to.

Within a few seconds, the motherfucker was back, this time holding a strange bundle of wires and electronic chips—you watched him in undisguised horror, even though your neck was in excruciating pain from being in such a crooked position.

"Listen to this masterpiece," he hummed mostly to himself as he placed his belongings next to your bound limbs. "Have you heard it before?" Bateman's question forced you to try to roll onto your side, but your body just wouldn't listen. "This is one of my personal favorites by Genesis. 'Land of Confusion'—an epic meditation on intangibility, you can get the meaning of this song from the opening lines alone."

All the while, the man was attaching some clamps to your nipples, which were hard from the cool air in the room. What was this thing? Was he going to burn you with electricity or something? Until you were nothing but ashes. Just the thought of it made your eyes water in a new wave of panic—you didn't want to die, you didn't want to be here—you tried to think of your family, but it only made things worse. Patrick literally sang the lyrics of the song in a soft, peaceful way, like he was doing something casual, but not torturing a poor woman he had knocked out and then kidnapped. The clamps he put on your little tips were connected by wires to a small device that looked like a TV controller, with a precise movement he placed another clamp between your legs, he had to lose the ribbon a bit to spread your hips, and after he pinched your clit, he placed a small clamp right there and pressed it hard into your flesh.

"Mhmm," you let out a muffled gasp as he finished his wicked preparation. "Mmm-please..d-don't do that!"

Biting his lower lip, Bateman picked up the device to press the button and then you felt an electric shock pierce through every little pitch of your body, but it was not real electricity, it was the pulsation that set all your nerve endings on fire. Although you tried to close your legs and avoid the vibration—it seemed to be impossible as Patrick prepared all this absolutely perfectly, he knew how you would try to act, he knew exactly how he had to tie you up.

"Not exactly what you expected?" The man chuckled, watching in pure awe as you twitched along the oilcloth, your chapped skin itching with every frantic move, but you didn't care because you were about to bite into that damn tape from that strange sensation that was coiling in your gut. "'Looking good, princess... but this mode is for weaklings. You can do better, right?"

The man took his previous position beside the bed, but this time he took off his briefs completely, his dick throbbing, so full of blood and the moment he grabbed it, every vein on it tensed, ready to burst.

"Ah-fuck," he groaned, pumping himself faster and faster, every move of his hand greedy and desperate as the muffled sounds you made only fueled him more and more. "You whimper so sweetly, girl."

Tilting his head, Bateman switched the vibration to another mode that was much more intense, making you want to pass out, your pussy now soaking wet from your flavor, your blood drying a bit, now draping your skin in a crimson ornament.

"A-awwhhhhh," you managed to cry out through the gag, your hands aching so badly from being tied up like that for such a long time, but the way those fucking little clamps were working you up, sending millions of little needles into the bundles of your nerves, was something you couldn't handle. "Mmhm-turn it-t off!"

The tape was only partially covering your mouth now because the moisture from your mouth made it so wet, but Patrick didn't care even if you started to scream louder— it seemed like everything was going according to his plan. With the grace of a predator, he stood in front of your trembling legs to spread them, and in one smooth motion, he plunged two fingers at once, curling and twisting them to find the right spot that would make you explode.

"Easy, easy," he cooed as he dipped his long fingers deeper until he reached the spongy joint inside your throbbing slit, and then Bateman began to rub it more persistently. "Your cunt wants to break my fingers or what? Uh, so greedy...starving for a good fuck."

Patrick's words triggered something that was hiding at the very bottom of your sophisticated mind—something you never knew about—it unsettled you in every possible way, both physically and mentally.

The moment of your orgasm could be compared to a waterfall that broke everything in its path, it was unstoppable and brutal, but the torturing vibration didn't stop, nor did Bateman, in fact he did just the opposite, the second he felt you clench around his fingers, the man began to move them faster, scissoring them, then burying them deep down to the knuckles, continuing to stimulate you in this way, feeling the vibration of the torturing device that coursed through your clit, adding to the whole mess.

"Mhmm-enough!" Your voice sounded even louder than a scream, it was a fucking cry for mercy. "Please...please...p-please-"

As soon as he added another finger, you climaxed again, this time even more vividly and you nearly choked on your spit, you stuck out your tongue involuntarily, your eyes rolled back in your head, but as if that was not enough, you felt an overwhelming, strange sensation in your lower abdomen and before you knew it, you were squirting so hard that everything underneath you was soaked.

Watching you gush like a fucking fountain, Bateman couldn't help but grin in dark satisfaction. "Look at you, literally pissing yourself from how good I make you feel."

Completely out of breath, you made no protest as he hovered over your face to kiss you through the wet tape, his tongue sliding along the edge but not going deeper, and that was only a matter of time. With a raspy groan, Patrick removed the gag completely, leaving itchy marks on your skin, but you were too stunned to react, to resist, to fucking breathe?

"Let's see if you can take my dick as well as you took my fingers," he brushed his fat cock against your wet opening, feeling the aftershocks still running through your inner muscles. "You little filthy bitch," his heavy, bulky body pressed you down like a fucking stone, making it impossible to move. "Every little hole of yours is mine to ruin now." And then he bit your cheek, almost taking a chunk out, you screamed, but he silenced you with his finger, shoving it so deep that you gagged in response, while he kept grinding against your abused body to make you feel how heavy his balls were, so fucking tight and full of cum.

Despite your urge to bite his finger, all you could do was whimper around it as Bateman's large palm landed on your overstimulated pussy, the vibration never ceasing to take everything out of you, but the slaps made you cum again before the man aligned himself with you and slowly but possessively sheathed his cock inside you.

“Look at me,” he spat into your face and yanked your hair, almost scratching your scalp. “Fucking whore…pretending being so innocent and all for what?” Patrick pulled his finger out from your mouth only to kiss you hard on your lips, plunging his tongue inside of it, licking it out and sucking on your lips while his strong hips were bucking against yours, his cock so huge that it easily reached your cervix and it hurt so bad. “Only for me to make you moan like a slut!”

Opening your mouth wide, the man spit into it before plugging it again with his thumb. As much as you hated to admit that your body was enjoying the curve of his dick brushing against your already too sensitive G-spot, you couldn't stop yourself from cumming, even though the multiple orgasms were about to kill you. When Bateman found the remote again, without even looking, he set the speed to maximum and threw it away, only to stop abruptly and pull out. That was the little pause you craved, the fleeting second to catch your breath, but it didn't last long as he cupped your breasts and squeezed them painfully, your nipples about to explode from the crazy level of stimulation.

"Mmm...are they natural?" Bateman asked before slapping both of your tits and then squeezing them again. "It would be such a waste if you died right now."

The mischievous grin on his face changed to something more animalistic, but your vision was nothing but a white, shocking veil. With practiced ease, Patrick flipped you onto your stomach and positioned you on all fours, pressing your head flat against the mattress. The man had to tear the ribbon that held your legs together a little more so he could spread them the way he wanted. And then a fucking miracle happened—the vibration stopped—and when Bateman noticed, he cursed and grabbed the remote. You used it as your only chance to escape as he lost his grip on you. Shaking, barely breathing, you tried to crawl away from him, and you even managed to slip off the bed and fall to the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing, you stupid bitch?!" His angry baritone hit your eardrums like a fucking thunderclap, but the worst part was that you couldn't really move since you were nothing but a wet, shaking mess. "You soaked the floor with your fucking blood!"

Bateman didn't get up right away, but when he did, it took him several steps to approach your weak, exhausted frame. Smirking, he looked down at you before stomping on your shoulder blade until you screamed in pain as you thought he was going to crush your bones.

"Stop," your voice broke into a hushed squeal as you ran out of strength. "Just...k-kill me already."

"You don't have a say in this," Patrick removed his foot and grabbed your hair, starting to drag you somewhere you didn't know. "Fuck it...I have to clean the whole apartment anyway."

For a moment you seemed to black out, but only for a moment. The next room you were trapped in turned out to be a spacious living room, but the walls were as white as the bedroom - it felt like you were already in a morgue, the cold floor beneath your hot skin only intensifying this feeling. When the man finally lowered you to the floor, which was covered with many copies of various newspapers, mostly the Times, he placed you on your knees and elbows again before positioning himself behind you. Looking down at your sore pussy covered with his cum, he jerked off for several fleeting seconds that felt like an eternity to you, and you didn't even say a word, you didn't feel a thing, as if you were already dead. When he was hard again, Bateman slid inside you to the brim, stretching you even more in this position, but he still wanted more, so he pushed you face down on the floor, the smell of ink filling your nose, mixing with the smell of sex, sweat and your blood, making it hard for you to resist the urge to vomit, but you had no choice but to hold back as best you could.

Fucking you from behind at a relentless pace, Patrick closed his eyes and threw his head back, his hands holding you in place, using your body like a fuck toy, his girth brutally spreading your little channel in this position and from time to time Bateman would look down to see your cunt struggling to encompass him and it spurred him on to fuck you even harder until he was literally squatting down on you, fucking you in a doggy mating press. Each time he jackhammered into your malleable body, a wet, squelching sound would come from your pussy.

"You're... so tight," he breathed out suddenly, before pushing you down some more, almost cracking your skull from how hard he was pressing you to the floor. "Mmh-fuck!" That little rub on your overstimulated bud he gave you forced you to explode once again, that was another time he made you squirt, your soft inner walls milking him so hard, literally asking him to pump you with his cum and the next second he squatted down as hard as he could, sinking deep before he unloaded the dense ropes of his seed, pumping you hard until his cum began to flow down the insides of your hips, dripping down to the floor and thank God he had planned everything out and placed the newspapers. "So how does it feel to be a cum-dumster, honey?"

Sobbing, you didn't answer, but slipped to the floor and curled up, your knees pressed to your chest. How did you feel? There was probably no right answer to that question, but the only thing you could admit for sure was that this man had literally ripped your soul out of your body, and now you were nothing but an empty shell that had once been someone's daughter, someone's friend, someone's love? All these thoughts were like a whirlpool in your mind, you were drowning in the pain of being degraded to the point of losing your identity—could you be called human after this?

Eventually your eyelids became too heavy and you drifted off for some time, you couldn't tell exactly how long you were unconscious, but the next thing you remembered was a painful sensation pooling all over your lower abdomen as Bateman pushed something like a plug into your creamy cleft to keep his cum inside you because he wanted to open you up later like a fucking bottle of champagne. After another hour of rough anal sex, Patrick was finally exhausted, your asshole was torn and bleeding, but it didn't bother him at all as he pushed another plug into your asshole.

Genesis' tape Invisible Touch seemed to be playing for the third time in a row, Patrick was sitting on the draped couch, naked, covered in your blood and his semen. He took a drag from his cigar and leaned back in his seat, admiring the view in front of him—you, standing on your knees, still naked and bruised, a shiny garland wrapped around you, making you look like a fucking Christmas tree. There was not even a one spot on your body that was left untouched and unscarred, as the man had spent a lot of time carving his initials into your skin, along with words like: hoe, slut, cum-dumster, fuck toy, and maybe something more.

Shaking pathetically, you opened your eyes to see him sitting smugly on the couch, still smoking his cigar. "Kill me...please...just kill me."

"Hey! Christmas trees don't talk," he grinned, fixing his messy hair before blowing out some smoke. "And they don't sob, so stop fucking crying!"

With an exhausted exhale you sat down, feeling the sharp thorns of the flowers you bought for your parents cutting into your knees, but that pain was nothing because there was nothing left of you in this body.

"My family..." you murmured in a trembling voice. "They will find out..."

The man nodded as if he really believed what you said. "Don't worry about it. By the time they find out, your body will probably be dissolving somewhere," Patrick laughed as he noticed you almost falling to the floor. "I cut the phone line, so your family will need some time to fix everything." With that he got up and walked over to you. "You know, I really enjoyed this Christmas...maybe I'll keep you to myself," he stroked your bruised cheek. "I will personally express my condolences to your father about his loss. I promise you, sweetheart, no one and nothing will keep us apart. Not now, not ever."

Phill Collins' voice was still blaring in the background, but the lyrics slept away from you like your life slept away the moment you stepped into that damn elevator, because now your life didn't belong to you anymore.

♪ I must've dreamed a thousand dreams Been haunted by a million screams But I can hear the marching feet They're moving into the street Now did you read the news today? They say the danger's gone away But I can see the fire's still alight They're burning into the night There's too many men, too many people Making too many problems And not much love to go 'round Can't you see this is a land of confusion? This is the world we live in (oh, oh, oh) And these are the hands we're given (oh, oh, oh) Use them and let's start trying (oh, oh, oh) To make it a place worth living in ♪

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

276 notes · View notes

polaroidpascal · 1 month ago

Text

i saw frankie kissing santa claus || joel & frankie

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : joel x f!reader x frankie morales

summary : after everyone leaves your house for a holiday party, you find one straggler left behind -or- you catch frankie kissing santa claus joel

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, everyone in this fic is bi bc i am too and i said so, joel in a santa suit, reader and joel have a little (big) crush on frankie boy, handjob, blowjob(s), face sitting, multiple orgasms for reader, orgasm denial, lots and lots of leaking (from all of them. im sorry.), one in the mouth one down south, sizes mentioned, cum eating, creampie, aftercare bc its essential and they are softies!!!

WC : 6k

a/n : merry christmas to everyone who celebrates!! six months since ive written anything at all and now i'm back with a christmas special LMFAO 😭 honestly, life has been a hectic hell since i last posted and i'm really happy i was able to actually finish something i started to end out the year 🥹 i hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and i hope i won't be as much of a stranger as i have been lately!! hope you enjoy this!! <3

“Oh, come on, Joel! People are gonna love it!”

“I am not putting it on, end of discussion, “ he said. You huffed a sigh and plopped down on the couch, Santa hat and suit in hand draping over your legs.

For as long as you had been seeing Joel, you’d begged and begged for him to let you plan one of his company holiday parties only for him to tell you that he’d rather just treat the guys to a night at a nice bar. He’d always let you come along, of course, feeding you whatever fruity little cocktails you asked for to pass the night along.

Last year was… something else. That summer, the company was absolutely swamped with projects, meaning Tommy and Joel had to hire some more help to keep up. One of the new hires, Francisco, “Frankie” for short, outshone all of his peers. He was effortlessly helpful in ways Tommy and Joel hadn’t even intended him to be. Just in the 6 months he had been with the company, he had already (rightfully) climbed a little higher up the ladder to help with the more important decisions rather than just being an extra set of hands on site.

Every now and then, Joel would tell you something else about Frankie that made your heart flutter with gratitude that the extra help was finally letting off some stress that he always seemed to carry. When August had rolled around, the Texas heat reached an all-time high. One particularly hot day, you suggested that Joel invite Frankie over to swim and barbecue so you could finally meet him.

He was a big man, just like Joel. Sturdy frame and tanned skin, and the sweetest manners a man could have, greeting you with a gentle handshake and a kindly playful, “It’s nice to meet you, Joel’s always talking about you.”

You spent the day in the sun and shade, sipping drinks and dipping into the cold water to stave off some of the brutal heat. The backyard filled with laughter all afternoon until the sun had finally set, the last hoorah of golden rays draining from the sky.

“So—“ Joel grunted, settling in bed with you as you curled into his side, “what’d you think of Frankie?”

“He’s great,” you hummed with a smile, settling into Joel’s post-shower warmth. “I can see why you like him so much, he seems exactly like how you always talked about him.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s somethin’. Ain’t like the other guys. Don’t have to tell him more ‘an once to do somethin’…”

You look up and see Joel staring into space, a glimmer of something else in his eye as he zones out.

A smirk slides into your cheek. “Mhm… kinda pretty too,” you tease.

“Huh?”

“He’s kinda… pretty. I don’t know.”

A ghost of a blush threatens to bloom across Joel’s chest as he shifts a bit underneath you. “Think he’s pretty, huh?”

“Well, yeah. Anyone with eyes can see that,” you giggle, propping up on one arm to fully face him. “Do you think he’s pretty?”

Joel stops, that once threatening blush beginning to spread a little more, a little darker. “Wh—?”

“Do you think Frankie is pretty?”

“Is this some sort of test or somethin’?”

“No, not a test. I just… you do realize you’ve been talking about him for months?”

“Well, he’s done real good for the company. Jus’ happy not to be so stressed all th’ time. You sure have been enjoying it.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “Well, yes. But that’s not my point. Been talking about him for months and he had you laughing all afternoon today.”

“That ain’t fair, he had you laughing too. Matter of fact, them little shrieks could’a woke up a bear in hibernation,” he joked, poking at your ticklish spots and making you recreate those shrieks of giggles from earlier.

“Stop, stop! I get it!” you said between laughs. “Jesus…” You settled back into his arms pulling the covers over the two of you some more. “Doesn’t answer my question, though.” Joel hums and pulls you somehow closer and you get comfortable in his grip, feeling sleep start to claim your mind. “Do you?” you ask, voice dripping with fatigue.

“Do I what?”

“Think Frankie’s pretty?”

You feel him huff and shake his head, then you hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

You fell asleep that night with a smile.

—

“Bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive,” you pouted under your breath, just above barely audible, just where he would have to ask you—

“What was that?”

“I said I bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive.”

“‘S that so? And what makes you think I’d wanna put it on just to impress him, hm?”

“N— nothing… Please, put on the suit, Joel?” you beg, donning your biggest puppy eyes you can manage. “The whole house is already decorated. Everyone’s gonna love it. If anyone gives you shit, I’ll show them what’s up. But I promise they’re gonna love it. Pleeeeease?”

Joel stands, silent, crossing his arms and chewing his cheek, thinking.

A beat passes, then another beat, your relentless begging gaze boring holes into his heart.

He sighs. “Gimme the suit,” he says and extends a hand.

“Really? Really, Joel?”

“Gimme the suit ‘fore I change my mind,” he says, fighting the smile curing at the corners of his mouth.

—

You were right, the suit was a fucking hit.

Every one of Joel’s employees that walked in was enthusiastically shocked that the old man would get into the spirit, patting him on the back and hyping him up the whole night. Each reaction made you giggle as you greeted them all and showed them into the house.

Tommy was probably the most surprised of them all, giving his big brother so much shit about dressing up, but Joel just laughed it off and shoved his brother in the house.

Not long after Tommy arrived, the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” you told Joel and made your way to the door.

It was Frankie, dressed in his nicest sweater and least damaged pair of jeans, still wearing that baseball cap he was never seen without, holding a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around it.

“Frankie!” you exclaimed, extending your arms for a hug.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrible.”

“It’s okay, Tommy just showed up and he doesn’t have an excuse at all.”

Frankie laughs and remembers the bottle in his hands. “Oh, this is for you and Joel.” He hands it over with a smile.

“Oh, Frankie… you didn’t have to get us anything!”

“Consider it my thanks for all the hospitality,” he says.

“Well, thank you for the wine. Come in!”

There’s no need for a tour with him, having already been to your house countless times before this. When he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he nearly trips over his own feet seeing Joel.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that,” you said, poorly hiding the giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Hi, Frankie,” Joel says, shyly raising an arm to wave.

“Hey-y-y,” Frankie giggles, waving back with one arm and holding his stomach with the other, almost doubled over in laughter.

The party plays out better than you even thought it would, the warm, bass-y tones of laughter filling the space of your home as everyone mingles and eats and drinks. Minutes easily turn to hours effortlessly dragging the night along. The later it gets, the more people slowly filter out returning back to their homes. You walk Tommy out to his girlfriend, Maria’s car, whom you called about half an hour earlier when you overheard him tell someone one more wouldn’t hurt.

As you close the door and turn back to the house, surprisingly very neat for having just hosted a party of contractors, it’s… eerily quiet. You expected Joel to be just behind you waiting to come back inside so he could whisk you off to bed. But he was nowhere to be found.

You creep back through the house, not seeing him anywhere. You round the corner to the living room and…

You thought everyone had left. But, you guess the last to arrive ended up being the last to leave as well.

You see Frankie and Joel sitting on the couch, Joel lounging as normal, still decked in his Santa gear, and Frankie sitting sideways facing him, one hand cupped on Joel’s jaw, kissing him so slow, so gently… so intoxicatingly beautiful.

You stay in the door frame for a minute watching the two make out on the couch, hearing the tiniest little grunts and groans from each of them. A fire ignites in your belly and quickly grows before you clear your throat to break the silence.

Frankie leaps back, starting to fumble his words and blushing bright red almost immediately. You look at Joel who looks calm and collected as ever, if not just a little dazed and blissed from the kissing he was just doing.

“I-I— um— we— I—“

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” you say gently, convincingly as you can.

Frankie must have mastered the puppy eye look just as you had and was using them on you now. “Y-you’re… not?”

You chuckle. “No. Furthest from it, really.”

“Told you she’d be okay with it,” Joel pipes up, tugging him closer on the couch.

You inch closer into the room. “We, um… I think Joel and I have a… confession to make.” Frankie watches with big, curious eyes as you make your way to sit on Joel’s other side. “Joel… how can I put it… Joel has a little bit of a… crush on you, I’d say.”

“Now hang on one minute—“

“Thinks you’re an excellent worker, wouldn’t stop talking about you for months.”

“You’re the one that said to bring him over in the first place!” Joel argues.

“That’s true. Just wanted to see the guy responsible for helping you out so much… Remember that first time you came over?”

Frankie nods, still watching as curious as ever.

“Well… y’know what? You should tell him what you said, Joel.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know… about how you think he’s real pretty and all…”

You see Frankie shift a little out of the corner of your eye, barely causing a ripple in the couch attempting to hide the movement.

“If I remember correctly… you’re the one that said that first.”

Your cheeks grow a little hot at the admission. “But you agreed with me.”

“Well, ‘cause I do. Think he’s pretty.”

You finally glance back at Frankie whose blushing cheeks are bright red at this point. “All that to say… I think we both have a bit of a liking for you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” he asks, completely unsure how he ended up here, but eternally grateful for it.

“Yeah. Is that… are you okay with that?”

“Shit... y-yeah— yes. Yes, I am,” he says, trying to keep a grasp on whatever composure he has left.

You smile back at him. “Good. Joel, you wanna show him to our room, then?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” he says, taking Frankie’s hand and giving it a kiss before leading him down the hall.

The three of you glide down the hall, the tension pouring out of your pores and making the air hotter, thicker, as you cross the threshold of the bedroom.

Joel leads Frankie to the edge of the bed, letting him sit and leaning in to give him a sweet, deep kiss to his plush lips. They both groan into it, savoring the softness of the other’s skin.

“Mmm… you should try, baby. He’s a real good kisser,” Joel offers.

You sit right next to Frankie, cupping his cheek to turn his face to you and kiss him.

Joel’s right, too. He is a good kisser. His velvet soft lips part when his tongue darts out to taste yours, a small whimper slipping from his throat as your mouths dance together, getting to know one another, melting into one. Frankie reaches up to grab your face, willing your mouth closer into him and your body follows, all but climbing into his lap to taste more, more, more as his hands trail up your body under your shirt and up to your chest—

The kiss is only broken when Frankie moans into your mouth, looking away from you with a hooded stare as he finishes yanking off your shirt. You follow his gaze to the floor just between his legs where Joel has sunk to the floor, palming Frankie over his jeans.

“Tha’s gotta be uncomfortable, hm?” he asks, giving his bulge another gentle squeeze. Frankie grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing and the slow leak threatening to ruin his pants. “Keep kissing him, angel. Gonna take care’a this.”

Joel’s hand slides up Frankie’s torso, slowly coaxing him to lay flat on the bed. You chase him with your mouth listening to each tiny gasp that leaves his lips as Joel gets to work with his pants.

The clink of his belt… the hum of a zipper… the tiny shimmy of Frankie’s hips as Joel slides his boxer briefs down his legs, stopping mid-thigh and running his hands back up to his hips.

“Jesus christ…” you hear him whisper, admiring the almost fully hardened length of the man in front of him, the tip of his cock shining in the low light from the bedside lamps, a small damp patch just barely seeping through to the outside of his underwear.

Joel’s own cock jumps at the sight. If he wasn’t turned on already from Frankie’s perfect lips, he sure as hell was turned on now. He can hardly keep himself from touching, one hand wrapping around Frankie’s length in an instant.

Frankie’s hips buck up and he pulls away from your mouth again, a low moan bellowing from his chest.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Joel mocks from below, lazily stroking up and down, up and down, swirling his hand at the top making Frankie squirm underneath him. “Look here, angel, look how hard he is.”

You glance down and can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips watching Joel slowly jerk Frankie off, the bright red tip leaking down his own length and making everything slick. And the sounds…

But it’s when you see that Joel’s other hand has his own length grasped in his palm, rubbing over his pants, that you let out a borderline growl… something about watching him get off to this… this idea that you had and felt brave enough to open the door of discussion to… this idea that Joel seemed more than happy to indulge in…

It’s then you realize how damp you feel, the wetness that’s been slowly building and building without you even realizing leaking out to soak your panties. You try to discreetly rub your legs together, seeking some sort of friction, anything at all.

But Joel sees it. He always sees it.

“Feelin’ left out, baby? She wants some attention, huh?”

You look at him with pleading eyes, an unspoken yes, yes please…

“Say, Frankie… that pretty mouth of yours got any other talents?”

Frankie looks down his body where Joel sits, already looking so fucked out and gone. “H-huh?”

“Take his mouth, go ‘head.”

Your body is buzzing as you look back at Frankie, the flame of arousal burning bright in his pupils as he frantically nods, leaning back for you to move. You take off your pants and ruined panties and shift over him, straddling his broad frame and maneuvering your knees around his head.

You hover over his face, looking down for permission to lower, “Is— Are you okay wi—”

You’re cut off by Frankie’s hands on the apex of your thighs tugging you down to meet his lips, and it is fucking heaven. “Oh, fuck…”

His scruff scratches the most sensitive parts of you, giving you exactly the friction you needed as his tongue greedily laps up your arousal, drinking it up like he’s been lost in the desert and you’re his oasis. You rock against his lips taking more and more of everything he’s giving you, and he helps you, coaxing you back and forth as more slick leaks from your hole. “Yeah, like that…” you moan, one hand slipping under his cap and through his ruffled hair, neither of you caring when it falls off onto the bed.

“Keep doin’ that, boy,” you hear Joel rumble behind you, followed by a whine from below right against your clit, making you jolt at the sudden vibration.

You look back and see Joel easing down Frankie’s length, slipping inch by inch down his throat, bobbing up and down taking more and more with each bob until he’s taken it all to the hilt.

God, is it a sight. You’re already whimpering watching him take more and more, but when he’s bottomed out and looks up, eyes barely watering, and he gives you a wink, you can’t help the downright pornographic moan that escapes your lips.

You turn back and look down at Frankie, seeing tears just starting to well in his eyes when he opens them with the most desperate gaze you’ve ever seen. “Fuck, Frankie… so fucking pretty…” you moan out, throwing your head back as his tongue dips inside you and his nose nudges your clit perfectly.

“Fuck…” you hear Joel gasp. “Fuck, angel… turn around, please. Lemme see that pretty face while he eats you out.”

You oblige, gently prying Frankie’s hands off your hips and cautiously spinning around over him. He gives you no time to settle back down, pulling you back flush with his face and drowning himself in you once again.

It’s a miracle he isn’t suffocating, or at least he doesn’t care if he is. He eats, and eats, and eats, your juices dripping down his face and his neck making a mess of him below. He works your hole and your clit, drawing out cries from you until your thighs are shaking, barely holding yourself up.

“Fuck yeah, baby… ride his fuckin’ face like that,” Joel encourages, stroking Frankie in tandem with the rock of your hips. “Gonna fuckin’ cum on his face, baby? Bet tha’s what he wants. ‘S that what you want, boy? Want her drippin’ down your tongue?”

You barely hear it over your whines, but a muffled mmhm is all you need to chase your rapidly building high, the feral need taking over you as you ride his face. His scruff tickles your most sensitive spots and his warm, wet, determined tongue works overtime to send you over the edge, and it fucking works, your orgasm crashing through you as you brace yourself on his belly, riding it out as you spill more slick down his face and his mouth works you through every second.

He doesn’t let up, licking you through every wave until you have to use every ounce of strength to fight his grip holding you down. You flop on the bed to the side and see Frankie’s face absolutely drenched in you, his mustache and scruffy beard soaking wet and his cheeks red as roses.

Frankie’s eyes are closed, his chest heaving as Joel works him faster, harder, the squelching noise from the precum furiously leaking from the tip of his cock almost drowning out the whines leaving his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… ohhhhh, fuck— waitwaitwait—” he begs, pleads, with any ounce of strength he can still muster up.

Joel stops in an instant, “What’s wrong? You okay, Frankie? What happened?” he asks, concern drenching every word.

“It’s… fuck… nothin’s wrong… just…” he huffs, trying desperately to catch his breath. “Fuck, didn’t… wanna cum yet… shit…”

Worry leaves Joel’s features in an instant, swiftly replaced by contentment and ease that he’s alright. “Ohhh… was gettin’ t’be too much, huh?”

“Yeah…” he answers, breathlessly.

Joel rises on creaky knees to stand from where he knelt, reaching for Frankie’s hand to sit him up again. “You good to stand?” he asks, gently, voice nothing but bass.

He helps Frankie up on wobbly legs and switches places with him, dragging him into his frame between his knees, reaching up to his face and kissing him, licking you off his lips. “Mmm… tastes good, don’t she?” he asks with a smirk before crashing back into Frankie’s mouth.

His hands leave Frankie’s face to tug down the costume pants, finally freeing his fully hardened cock, tugging on it a few times before reaching for Frankie’s hands and guiding them into his lap. Frankie’s hand wraps around Joel’s length, his grasp encompassing his whole girth, but just barely so. Joel helps his hand along, up and down, up and down, a steady rhythm to make his cock slippery in his grasp.

Frankie’s hand feels perfect, but Joel is an impatient man. And when he wants something, he’s gonna get it.

“You wanna sit on Santa’s lap, Frankie?” he says with a downright diabolical smirk.

“Oh, fuck— yes, please. Can I?”

“��Course you can,” Joel smiles, reaching for the hem of his pants again and tugging them all the way down as Frankie toes off his shoes and steps out of each pant leg. He pats his thigh right where it meets his torso, “C’mon, boy, right here.”

Joel scoots back on the bed to make room as Frankie kneels on the bed lining himself up with Joel’s length. Frankie spits on his hand generously, giving Joel a few more tugs before lining him up with his tight ring of muscle.

“Shit, boy… no stranger to this, huh?”

Frankie just blushes, slowly lowering down to Joel’s lap, moaning as his greedy hole takes inch after inch until he’s sitting flush with Joel’s pelvis. He rises and falls a few times before finding a slow, steady rhythm, throwing his head back and bouncing eagerly up and down.

You watch in awe as Frankie fucks himself on Joel’s cock, resting his arms on Joel’s broad shoulders just like you do, Joel’s hands sitting on Frankie’s hips just like they do on your own. You feel your core flutter at the sight, half unaware of the whiny whimper that falls from your lips and fully unaware of your hand traveling south to play with the slick still drenching your folds.

The noise makes Joel turn his head and he extends his hand to you dragging you closer to him. He grabs your cheek and kisses you, his tongue begging entry into your mouth as you swallow each other’s moans.

Frankie wills his eyes open, watching the two of you make out right in front of him. It makes his cock throb as he bounces harder, a little faster, and Joel can feel him getting impatient.He pulls away from your desperate mouth, holding Frankie’s hips still and met with a whining protest about it.

“Calm down a sec, cowboy. Got an idea…” You both look to him with curious, fucked out eyes. “Gonna lay back an’ you’re gonna ride my face just like you did for him, ‘kay princess?”

You nod back firmly, making a move towards him—

“Ah, ah— eager girl. Wasn’t finished…” he turns and looks at Frankie. “You got a hard job, think you can handle it?”

Frankie nods just as firmly, desperate to hear his rules to follow. “U-uh huh, I can handle it. Please.”

“Gonna keep ridin’ this cock, got it? But… you don’t cum ‘til I say so. Not even when she does. Not ‘til I say.”

Frankie’s chest jumps as his breath hitches, a grunt of a moan stifled at the back of his throat. His eyes flutter as he nods, trying desperately to keep his hips stilled and finding it harder and harder.

“We all good?”

“Yes— yeah, all good,” you and Frankie both enthusiastically agree, desperate for more.

Joel leans back, tugging your hand his way. As you go to straddle him, he stops you. “Face him, baby. He didn’t get to see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

Your eyes roll a bit as you lazily agree, spinning around to face Frankie. Sweat makes his forehead twinkle as he slowly rocks and bobs in Joel’s lap. You lower onto Joel’s face and immediately brace yourself on his belly, the feeling of his tongue more intense this time, still sensitive from before.

As hard as it is to keep his eyes open, Frankie can’t peel his gaze away from your face, contorted in pleasure as moans spill from your lips. “Oh, Joel… fuck, yes…”

Frankie can’t help but reach towards you, just wanting to touch you, feel your body… he cups your tits over your bra that you quickly undo and toss off the bed, desperate to feel his hands on your skin. “Go ahead, Frankie. Touch me, please,” you beg, holding his hands to your chest and squeezing them.

He mirrors you, kneading the flesh there and quickly throwing you back into the fire as Joel’s skillful tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge already. He never fails to unravel you in an instant, his tongue memorizing every inch of you right down to the softest spots that send you reeling in the blink of an eye.

It’s barely long at all before you feel the fire burning in your belly again, growing and growing as you desperately try to last just a little longer.

You distract yourself in Frankie, mesmerized by his face and his body that you wish you could see more of, hiding under his t-shirt that’s somehow still on.

“This—” you say, pawing at the hem of his shirt, “Off. Get this off—”

He doesn’t hesitate to help you peel his shirt off his sweaty body, throwing it haphazardly off the bed. His body is beautiful, the curves of his belly mirroring Joel’s so closely, and your hands are drawn to his skin like magnets, feeling every inch you can reach.

You don’t realize you’re lifting away from Joel’s face until he yanks you back down again, mercilessly lapping at your folds.

He pulls off again, just for a moment. “‘Member angel, he can’t come ‘til I say. Longer you’re ridin’ my face, longer he’s gotta wait.”

He’s back on your cunt in an instant, and your fluttering eyes barely catch the aroused and panicked expression on Frankie’s face. His cock makes a mess of Joel’s belly below, the leaking head spilling pearly white now as it gets harder and harder to stave off his orgasm. He languidly rocks back and forth trying desperately not to spill all over Joel’s gut before he’s allowed to.

Watching Frankie try so hard to keep his composure, teetering on the edge of collapse, turns you on more than you can even describe. Your hips move on their own at this point, or maybe it’s purely Joel rocking you in just the way he knows drives you crazy.

“Talk to ‘er,” he mumbles to Frankie from under your wet heat.

Your eyes blow wide, the growing fire turning to a blaze when Frankie opens his mouth.

“Fuck… g-gonna fucking cum for him too? Oh, shit… wanna… wanna see your face… when you—”

Frankie’s babbling is cut off by your moans as you cum for a second time tonight, thighs quivering and hips bucking on Joel’s face. He licks you through it, controlling the movement of your hips as you lose all control.

“Oh, my god… h-holy shit—” Frankie stops all movement, seconds away from making a mess of himself, Joel, and you sitting in front of him. His eyes bolt shut as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, shaking when Joel eases you off of his face.

He sits up cupping Frankie’s face in his hands. “Got a little more fight in you?”

Frankie takes a deep breath. “Mhm… yeah, uh huh…”

Joel chuckles low, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Good. Hop off.”

Frankie’s eyes pop open, but he obliges, easing himself off of Joel’s length with a whine at the sudden emptiness.

“Go ‘head and climb up there,” Joel instructs gently as Frankie climbs onto the bed where you lay, still a puddle of overstimulated mess. Joel gently tugs at your ankles pulling you towards the end of the bed, leaning down to kiss you, soft and sweet.

“Can you gimme one more, angel? Can you stay up for me?”

Your eyes try their best to focus on his face, a hazy blur clouding your vision just a bit as you hum and nod to him. “Uh huh… can stay up…”

“Attagirl… alright, hands and knees, baby.”

You do as you’re told, flipping over and around so your backside faces him at the end of the bed. He stands over your body, hands gliding over the globes of your ass, up your back, stroking every inch of bare skin spread in front of him.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous…” he mumbles, before laying a tap to your ass, causing you to jolt a little and whine at the contact. “Alright Frankie…” Frankie perks up, hanging onto Joel’s every word. “‘M gonna take this pretty hole back here… An’ you take that one up there. Sounds good?”

You clench around nothing. The idea of both of them filling you as much as you can take… Using you for their pleasure…

“Fuck… yeah, good, mhm…” Frankie babbles, shimmying himself to kneel in front of you.

You look up at him, down his body, to his ruddy cock, hard as diamond right in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and you motion for him to come a little closer.

Joel grabs his length, lining the head up with your entrance. You stifle a whimper at just the contact of his fat tip pressing into your most sensitive spots. “Ready?” he asks. You both whimper a yes, ready.

They both enter you at the same time, sliding into you wet, wanting holes cautiously first, but easily. So, so easily. The three of you groan in pleasure, them from your warmth and you from the fullness.

Joel sets a pace, fucking in and out of your dripping cunt with ease, quite a feat for the sheer fucking size of him, but you’re so worked up that you practically suck him in and dont dare to let him go. Frankie doesn’t follow Joel’s face, testing the waters of your throat and what it can take.

“She can handle it, boy. If she can take all’a me, she can take all’a you too,” Joel says with a wink.

Neither one of them is small by any means, but Joel was right. He was a bit thicker than Frankie is, and it took a while for your mouth to get used to his size. And while Frankie wasn’t as thick, he might have been just a little longer. It was impossible to tell now, though, they both felt impossibly huge stuffed inside of you, each of them chasing their own highs.

Joel’s pace has already picked up, the warm walls of your pussy crying for him to keep going, don’t stop, right there… the grip on your hips unforgiving as he slams in and drags back out over and over and over…

Frankie keeps rocking into your mouth, a little faster now, and you taste the salty precum leaking onto your tongue and down your throat.

“So fuckin’ hot, angel… stuffed so fuckin’ full…”

“God, you feel good…” Frankie whispers down to you, and you wish you could see his face while you take him to the hilt. Instead, you pull away and spit directly onto the head of his cock before taking him back into your throat completely, using one hand to play with his balls. “Oh, fuck… oh, fuck…”

“Ah ah, boy— unh— not— not ‘til I say,” Joel reminds him.

Frankie takes a few deep breaths, holding your face so delicately, like it could break, trying to ground himself and fucking focus…

“One more, baby, one more right on this cock… an’ then you can too, boy…”

Joel fucks you harder, faster, bruising your cervix with every thrust, the ridges of his cock dragging along every nerve ending in your walls bringing you closer, and closer, and closer—

“Oh, fuck, Joel! Right there! Don’t fucking stop!”

He doesn’t. Not at all. He keeps the same relentless pace, hitting that soft spot deep inside you that he always finds without fail. You flutter around his length, clamping down on him as he reaches around your front to find your clit. He teases your little bundle of nerves, circle after circle after circle, hurdling you closer and closer to release.

“Fuck, tha’s right, baby. Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck— ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, Joel,” Frankie cries, his hips bucking out of rhythm.

“Yeah? Gonna spill down her throat while she’s creamin’ my cock? Go ‘head, both of y’all, at the same time. C’mon—” he grunts, one strong thrust sending you reeling, spasming, damn near collapsing onto the bed as your third orgasm rips through you at an earth-shattering rate.

“Jesus fucking christ—” Frankie groans before his own thighs are trembling, his cock throbbing in your mouth as ropes of cum shoot down your throat, fucking himself in your mouth through his own high, the vibrations from your moans making his body shiver as you drain him empty.

Like dominos falling, Joel is next to go, painting your walls with his spend at the sight of you and Frankie falling apart right in front of him, throbbing in your overstimulated cunt as both ends suck each man dry.

The three of you are a pile of huffing, heaving messes, catching your breaths and dripping sweat onto your sheets. After a minute, Joel slowly slides out of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy and dripping onto the sheets. The rest of your body plops down onto the mattress when he lets you go.

Joel steps back and looks at the two of you, sprawled out on the bed in a completely fucked out daze, and chuckles.

“Guess that that was a good enough present for the two’a you, huh?”

You both give a tired, breathy giggle stretching and wiggling around the mattress. You crawl up towards Frankie laying on the pillows and curl into him, and he welcomes you like this is something you’ve always done, with ease, with comfort.

Joel walks into your bathroom and returns with a towel, cleaning you up before climbing next to you, now sandwiched between the two burly men, all three of you basking in post-coital bliss.

“That is… not how I thought the night would end,” Frankie says with a sigh and a chuckle.

You giggle back. “No? Not even a little?” you tease.

Frankie hums a laugh. “So, was this… is this something that you guys… talked about before?”

You turn a little and look at Joel who is just admiring the two of you. His eyebrows raise a bit, an exhale of a laugh leaving his lungs. “Hmm… I mean, It’s come up a few times.”

Frankie turns his head to look at Joel, silently asking for more.

“Started that first time you came over an’ it just… I don’t know, it would come up from time to time. Was never opposed to the idea and… Tonight was the night the pieces fell just right, I s’pose,” he explains, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You can see it haunting Frankie’s lips too, threatening to show just how much he enjoyed this too.

“Think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it, huh?” you tease again, nudging Frankie and throwing Joel a knowing glance. Frankie turns away, blushing.

The three of you cuddle a little closer, savoring each other’s company, glowing with pleasure as you lay there, falling asleep knowing things might have changed, but for the absolute better.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier #joel miller x frankie morales x reader

286 notes · View notes

belovedhoon · 1 month ago

Text

mr. grinch

pairing: jeno x f! reader fandom: nct dream

a/n: sorry this is late for christmas...i'm just glad its up in decemeber! i hope you guys enjoyed! i think it's crazy how jeno is my ult bias, yet this is my first fic for him...oops...anyways enjoy y'all! merry Christmas to those who celebrate! and happy holidays to those who don't!

wc: 2.4k contains: smut, fluff at the end, jealous jeno, husband jeno (I NEED him) taglist: @shypen @st1llm0nster @squoxle

synopsis: you and your husband jeno are over at your friends house for a christmas party and at first jeno is having a great time but then he starts to act like a grinch and you can’t help but wonder why, as soon as you get home jeno lets you know just exactly why he’s being a grinch so you decide to try to get him back in the christmas spirit and you know just the way to do so.

fic under cut >>>>>>>

You placed the red lipstick down and looked in the mirror one last time to check over your appearance and smiled softly at yourself. You got up from the vanity table to look for your husband Jeno to see if he was ready, he tends to take awhile…even longer than you sometimes…

You head towards your bedroom to see if Jeno is in there but don’t see him so you call out his name so that he could hear you. You hear a quick “I’m in the living room love.” before Jeno pops his head out from around the corner. You smiled as you saw your husband and walked towards the living room.

“Jeno are you ready? We should be leaving soon.” You said softly smiling up at him. Jeno just nodded his head with a bright smile, his eyes scrunching up cutely. Jeno gave you a once-over and smirked.

“Maybe we should skip the party, you look so good, babe…” Jeno said winking. You just laughed and swatted at his muscular chest. You shook your head no at his words.

“Be serious Jen, you know we can’t skip the party, Renjun would be so upset with us!” You scolded your husband playfully. He just laughed and shook his head. He gave you a quick kiss before announcing that the two of you could head out now. You both grabbed the gifts for your friends before walking out of the house and to your car. Jeno placed the presents in the trunk of the car before opening the passenger side for you and then hopping in the front seat to start the car so that you could be on your way to Renjun’s house for the party.

When you got to Renjun’s house, Jeno parked the car in Renjun’s large driveway and shut off the car before jumping out and opening the door on your side like the gentleman he always is. The both of you grabbed the gifts, walked up to Renjun’s front door, and rang the doorbell. About a minute later, Mark opened the door smiling at the both of you, before ushering you two inside.

“Hey guys! Come in, it’s cold outside!” Mark said welcoming the two of you inside. You smiled gratefully at Mark and walked inside, Mark closing the door behind you and Jeno. “The rest of us are in the dining room! Come in whenever you get situated.” Mark said again before walking away to the dining room where he was before you two got there. Jeno and you took off your shoes leaving them on the rack by the door and putting your coats on the coat rack beside it before you two made your way to the dining room where everyone was.

“Hey, lovebirds! You made it just in time! Jaemin just got here a few minutes before you two! So everyone is here now!” You heard Renjun say cheerily. You smiled and nodded gratefully at the information. Jeno and you exchanged hugs with everyone and Jeno couldn’t help but vaguely notice that Jaemin held you for a tad too long for his liking but shrugged it off. “All the gifts are over on that table if you want to go put them over there! We’re gonna be starting some Christmas-themed games afterward!” Renjun announced. Jeno nodded at his words, walked over to the table, and placed the gifts you both had gotten on the table with the other gifts.

For the games, you all were paired off in groups of three people. You were paired off with Jaemin and Renjun, Jeno was paired with Mark and Haechan, and Chenle and Jisung were paired off. The first game you had to do was try to pop as many Christmas balloons by throwing darts at them as you could in 5 minutes. To say you were bad at it was an understatement…Your aim was so bad, so Jaemin stepped up to you and helped you aim correctly so that you could hit the balloons properly. Jeno’s eyes narrowed as his eyes zeroed in on Jaemin’s hands on your waist and hands to help you but he didn’t say anything…in fact, he didn’t say anything, not when you turned around and hugged jaemin tightly when you finally made a dart through the balloon, not when on the next game, he watched as Jaemin whispered in your ear and not even when through most of the night your attention was in fact on Jaemin. No, Jeno just sat there fuming, a nasty glare on his face as he watched the two of you interact. The fact that you were so oblivious to Jaemin’s shameless flirting and Jeno’s very obvious anger just made Jeno even more angry.

It was time to open presents so you were sitting beside your husband, who you could tell seemed to be in a sour mood but couldn’t place why he was. You looked over at Jeno, a look of concern on your face but he just looked forward not paying you any mind, so you just shrugged annoyed. If he was going to act like a Christmas Grinch then you weren’t going to let him ruin your fun night. Everyone handed out the gifts they got for everyone and then everyone proceeded to open them one by one. When you got to the gift that Jaemin got you, you opened it and gassed when you saw the sweater you’ve been wanting for a while. You thanked him graciously and hugged him. Jeno just scoffed at the interaction quietly but you heard him. Then it dawned on you…Jeno was being a Grinch because he was jealous. You smirked internally at the thought. You knew just how you would get him back in the Christmas spirit…

As soon as you got back home, you went straight to your room and changed into the red and green lingerie you got as a gift for Christmas tomorrow to surprise Jeno and hopefully get him feeling jolly once more. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and heading towards yours and Jeno’s shared bedroom, so you put on the matching silky Santa robe and stood in the middle of the room. Jeno opened the bedroom door and saw you standing there but didn’t say anything, he just stared at you. You smirked sultrily at him before sauntering over until you stood before him.

“I noticed you were upset earlier…So I wanted to give you an early Christmas gift…get you back in the Christmas spirit…” You said your tone was seductive and light. Jeno’s eyes darkened and he watched as you ran your hands up and down his chest, shivering at your touch. “Don’t you want to open up your present Mr. Grinch?” You whispered to your husband. Jeno nodded his head as if he was in a trance but he reached out and untied the pretty bow you tied in the front of the robe and groaned at the sight of you dressed up so prettily for him.

As soon as Jeno saw the lingerie sat so gracefully on your body he sprung into action, running his big hands up and down your lace-covered torso taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. Jeno brought his hands to your back and skillfully unclipped your bra, letting the offending article fall to the ground. Jeno groaned at the sight of your bare chest and then brought his hands up to your breasts which looked so inviting to him that he couldn’t help but squeeze them gently. He bent his head until he was eye-level with your chest before taking an erect nipple into his mouth and sucking at it just right, which caused you to let out a whimper. Jeno used his hand to tweak the other nipple before switching between the two and doing the same. Jeno took his mouth off of your nipple before he gently led you to your shared bed and pushed you atop it.

Jeno climbed on top of your half-naked body, after he stripped his button-down shirt off, he was so impatient that he hadn’t even undid the buttons, he just tore the shirt open, the buttons springing everywhere but Jeno couldn’t care less about the expensive materials…not when his stunning wife was layed so beautifully on the bed looking up at him with hooded eyes. As soon as he was on top of you he leaned down capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Jeno let his hands wander down your torso and towards your lace-covered heat and to his surprise found that there was an opening in the bottom of the pretty red panties. His eyes shot down to look at what his hands had just discovered and he moaned loudly…your panties were crotchless… Jeno’s thick fingers spread your folds and instantly started to rub circles into your swollen clit. You whined out at the feeling of Jeno touching you in your most sensitive area.

“Jeez love, you just keep on surprising me, don’t you darling?” Jeno all but groaned out, loving the fact that you just kept on blowing his mind. You’re just so sexy to him. You just smiled up at your husband innocently contradicting the way you were rolling your hips into his hands sluttily. Jeno slipped a thick finger into your dripping entrance and started to move his digit into your gummy walls causing you to moan out at the feeling of his fingers digging into your spongey walls. Jeno could feel his cock twitching in his pants at every pretty sound you let out from his doing.

“Jen…o.. please…I need your cock…please..!” You whimpered out, barely getting the words out because of the way Jeno now had two fingers pounding into you. The sloppy sounds coming from you caused the tips of your ears to redden at the vulgarity of it but how could you be embarrassed when he made you feel so good? Jeno grinned down at you, cooing at you in a mocking tone at how desperate you already were.

“This is my gift, remember? Let me enjoy it yeah?” Jeno said smugly when your eyes rolled back as your high ran through you unexpectedly. Jeno groaned as your walls clamped down even more tightly than before as the heat spread throughout your body like wildfire. Jeno slid his fingers slowly out of you when he was sure the aftershocks of your high were over. He brought his fingers to his mouth sucking your juices off his fingers seductively groaning at the taste all while making intense eye contact with you. You felt shivers run through your body at his heavy gaze and from the nastiness of what he had just done.

You thought that since he had just made you cum on his fingers that he would finally give you his cock, but Jeno had other plans. You didn’t think you could just tease him with just a taste of your sweet slick without him getting a proper taste, did you? Jeno slowly made his way down your body, sucking marks into your skin until he was face level with your dripping center. He brought his face closer to your core, inhaling your scent deeply, causing you to scold out “Jeno” in disdain though he knew you secretly loved when he acted this way. Jeno pressed his face into your folds, and then sucked your clit into his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against the nub. Jeno slid his tongue through your folds and brought it to your entrance and slipping it inside thrusting it at a slow but steady pace, trying to catch any bit of essence that would drip out, moaning into you at the taste. Your hands were in Jeno’s hair tugging whenever something felt particularly good, leading him to groan into you again.

Just as you were about to cum again, Jeno stopped and pulled away abruptly, stepping away from you to pull his pants and boxers off, his big cock springing out and hitting his abs. The protest you were about to let out dying in your throat at the glorious sight of your husband completely naked. Jeno quickly made his way back on top of you and gave you a deep kiss. You could Jeno bring his hand to his cock and tease the tip against your slick folds before positioning his head at your soaked entrance and pushing in slowly. The two of you let out twin moans at the feeling of finally, finally being one with the other. As soon as Jeno bottomed out, he stopped his movements to let you adjust to his impressively thick size.

Jeno began to move at a quickly fastening pace when you whined out for him to ‘please move Jen, I need you’. Jeno kept up his fast pace as he grabbed your hands and brought them above your head, holding them there. You both couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of you even if you tried, the pleasure the two of you were feeling was so inexplicably intense. You could tell Jeno was getting close from the way he was starting to move more sloppily than before and his grunts were getting higher in pitch with every movement from him.

“Doll, please tell me your close…please…” Jeno whined out, his thrusts getting quicker and more uncoordinated. You nodded your head frantically at his words, the fact that he tore your orgasm away from you earlier combined with his frantic thrusts had you right on the peak. Sensing this, Jeno brought his hand down to your sensitive clit and started to rub at it harshly. This brought you over the edge, causing you to tighten over Jeno’s cock as you came. Jeno cursed out with a long groan as his warm sticky cum coated your walls in strong spurts, his cock throbbing as you milked him for all he had. Jeno let out one last groan before falling on top of you, careful to not put all his weight on you.

“I can’t believe you called me Mr. Grinch!” Jeno said laughing. You just snorted at his words, looking over at him.

“Maybe if you weren’t acting like you were about to murder Jaemin, I wouldn’t have called you one. Btw Jaemin was doing it on purpose to see what you would do.” You said laughing at Jeno’s shocked expression.

“That sneaky bastard!”

#nct dream #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop #kpop fic #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #jeno #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno x reader #nct dream imagines #nctzen

197 notes · View notes

panda-writes-kpop · 1 month ago

Text

I'll give it to someone special ~ k. mj.

a/n: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I wanted to have this fic out earlier but I was recovering from a nasty sinus infection the last few days that managed to travel into my lungs and give me a chest cold 🫠 it's all good though, this is the best I've felt in about a week so I'll take it. KATIE'S COMEBACK IS HERE EVERYONE RAHHH

tw: lots of food mentions, winter kind of breaks into your apartment?, mixed bag with angst and fluff so take it as you will, writing might be a bit rough around the edges since it's been three months

summary: the icy weather reminds me of your unstable "relationship" with Winter as you prepare for a Christmas party with friends. Little did you know that a late night visitor would settle your worries about Winter once and for all.

♡ Masterlist ♡

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

You hum to yourself as you pull the Christmas cookies from your oven. The scent of pure sugary goodness, mixed with the gingerbread candle on your countertop, is enough to make you drool.

You usually weren’t this festive when it came to Christmas. With finals season being intertwined with the holiday, it was hard to be excited about Christmas when you’re trying to not cry over an exam. Throw a few retail shifts, and you quickly grow tired of the Christmas season.

But this year… something was different. You managed to get through finals season in one piece, and your place of work decided to shuffle some non-Christmas music into their season mix.

…You still didn’t like All I Want for Christmas is You.

The lights on your Christmas tree seemed to shine brighter, illuminating the main showstoppers - the ornaments on your tree. One in particular catches your eye as you set the cookie tray down on two potholders.

It’s a simple glass bulb in your favorite color with your name engraved in cursive letters. You remember finding it on the window sill outside of your apartment last year.

A light knock on your window makes you nearly jump out of your skin as you look up from your computer. You grumble because you were finally starting to get into the groove of studying, and your final was in two days - couldn’t this wait?

You tilt your head as you notice a small box on your window sill. Cautiously, you stand up and head towards the window as you inspect the box.

It has small red and green shapes all over the box - definitely from a Christmas store, but who could have gotten something like this for you?

With a barely audible click, you open your window and grab the unexpected present, hoping that bombs don’t come in abnormally small packages.

As carefully as you can, you open the box to reveal an ornament inside.

Sugar cookies weren’t the most demanding treat to make, but they were a smash hit with your foodie friends. Add in some snickerdoodle cookies, your grandma’s famous chocolate chip cookies, some homemade rock candy, and a few other goodies, and you were a necessary addition to many of your friends’ Christmas parties.

This year, to save yourself the hassle (and a few broken cookies from the trip), you decided to host an intimate gathering with a few of your friends. Sure, your apartment wasn’t the biggest place, but you’d only have three guests.

Four, if you can count on a special someone coming your way.

With 48 hours to go, and plenty of baking to do, some late night baking was necessary to get everything done in time. As you watch the sun set (much earlier than it should), your mind wanders back to the ornament on your tree.

I know you bought that ornament for me. Minjeong.

Your phone buzzes as you concentrate on creating the perfect carrot nose for one of the sugar cookies. You don’t break concentration until it buzzes again, which makes you give your snowman an orange tongue that’s somehow connected to his stubby nose.

“Sorry, bud, we can’t all be perfect…” You mutter to yourself before setting the frosting down and picking up your phone.

You don’t recognize the phone number, but the text messages seem oddly familiar.

On my way! Don’t stay up late for me. <3

It’s already past 9 o’clock, and you’re only done with a small portion of the sweet treats you have to make, so it’s probably going to be a late night anyway… and you were terrible at listening to others.

Maybe that’s why the two of you never worked out?

There was something sweet in rebellion, besides the wonderland of baked goods that sat in your kitchen. You never were a rebellious teen, for one reason or another, so you liked to do rebellious things like stay up late, order junk food, and binge watch TV until three in the mornings.

…There’s a reason why Giselle calls you and Karina the losers of your friend group.

“C’mon, go drinking with us!” Giselle throws her arm around your shoulder, completely ignoring the way Winter tenses up at the action. “It’s no fun to eat take-out alone and rewatch the same show again and again.”

You feel the need to defend yourself as Winter’s piercing eyes meet yours for a minute before she looks away. The frown on her face neutralizes into a more aloof expression as you study her further.

“For the record, I don’t rewatch shows that often.” You say as Ningning narrows her eyes at you.

“What are you watching right now?”

“Okay, that’s besides the point!” You fold your arms after teasingly brushing Giselle’s arm off your shoulder.

“One night can’t hurt, right?” Giselle elbows your arm before continuing to march down the street. “First round’s on me!”

You sigh while choosing to pinch the bridge of your nose instead of trying to fight against your friends’ plans. They had good intentions, trying to bring you out of your comfort zone, but you’d much rather cut this meeting short. Partially because you want to go home, and partially because Karina’s absence made the tension between you and Winter so much more palpable.

The small timer next to your oven happily dings as you finally shut the oven off for the night. Although you weren’t completely done, at least everything that needed to be baked was baked tonight. You could frost and assemble everything in the morning, after you had a bit of sleep and a break from the repetitive Christmas music coming from your music speakers.

You quickly turn the dial back to zero on the timer before pulling the last round of cookies from your oven. With the sickening sweet smell of chocolate chips invading your nose, you set the cookies aside as you glance around your kitchen.

I just need to let these cookies cool, do a few dishes, and then box everything up so the gnats stay out of my sweets.

Checking the time, your shoulders slump as you notice that it’s two-thirty in the morning - where did the time go?

Good thing you don’t have work early tomorrow; otherwise, you’d probably call off.

Winter would scold me for doing that.

You chuckle at the thought - Minjeong would scold you for calling her Winter, saying it was “too formal for our relationship”.

Our relationship? What relationship could she be talking about?

Winter was your friend, just as Ningning, Giselle, and Karina were, but you two often stretched the definition of the word “friend” to its limits.

“Winter-” Your back meets the wall as Winter places two hands on either side of your head, forcing you to look in her eyes.

“I want you.” Her posture seems harsh, but her voice softens as one of her hands leaves the wall to caress your face.

She’s giving you an out - you could slip out of this situation if you wanted to. You could rejoin the party like nothing happened.

But you can’t pretend like nothing happened. Not when you’re with her.

“I want you too.” Breathless, a shaky hand beyond the control of your rational thoughts reaches out and pulls Winter closer to you.

With her face so close to yours, you press your lips against hers.

Yet words like situationship and friends-with-benefits seem too… distant for the two of you. They imply a lack of connection and romance, which definitely doesn’t seem to describe the two of you.

Unless buying flowers and intimate gifts for each other could just be seen as a friendly gesture.

“I bought you these.” You present the bundle of flowers to Minjeong, as if you were a nervous pre-teen who was trying to impress your crush.

“Oh… thanks.” Her hands ghost over yours as you pass the bouquet to her.

The lack of emotion on her face causes you to panic as you grab one of her wrists.

“If you don’t like them, I can always return them, or get some different flowers-”

“They’re lovely,” Winter interrupts you, “but I didn’t think we were close enough for gifts.”

You fake a warm, innocent smile as your brittle heart starts to crack under your false expectations of Winter.

Icy memories aside, it was time to let your mind and body rest as you made sure that the oven was turned off and the cookies were correctly sealed away-

Tap! Tap!

Luckily, nothing was in your hands as you jumped at the sound of something tapping against your window.

“Damn bird,” You mutter under your breath, “I’m going to murder Karina for feeding you.”

With the fluffiest slippers, and in your finest Christmas pajamas, you stomp through your living room to handle the avian problem that’s still tapping on your window.

When you approach the window, your birdy frenemy is missing from the window; instead, a familiar face stares back at you.

Against your better judgement, you throw the window open and offer her your hand.

“Winter? How the fuck-” You pause as she takes your hand and tries to crawl into your apartment.

“Don’t ask.” Her voice is raspy from the cold as she manages to enter your apartment. “Why did you get a third-story apartment?”

“Why did you climb up to my third-story apartment?” You stare at her, dumfounded, as Winter carefully closes the window behind her.

She freezes before turning around and shrugging her shoulders.

“I missed you?”

You pause before laughing to yourself.

“You could’ve called, Minjeong! That’s what normal people do!” You gently scold her as she rubs her arms to stay warm.

“I sent a text your way. Did you get it?”

“Ah, so that’s who sent me that message.” A tiny smile appears on your lips as she lets out a small breath of relief.

“You’re not mad?”

“At you? Never.” You smile before suddenly becoming aware of the state of your apartment. “Sorry, this place is a mess. I’ve been baking all day, and I didn’t have any time to clean.”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll help you clean up before the party.” Winter casually brushes by you to grab a pillow from your couch as you stare at her in disbelief.

“Minjeong, do you know what time it is? Scratch that, do you know what day it is?”

“Yeah, it’s the 25th - Merry Christmas, by the way - and the party’s in about twelve hours. I thought I’d help you clean up before everyone else came.”

You fold your arms as a small smile appears on your face.

“It’s the 24th.”

She stops fluffing up the pillow and turns her head towards you.

“Really?” Winter tilts her head, confused for a moment, before continuing her task. “Well, that gives me more time to help you.”

“You can’t be serious!” You follow her every movement as she appears to gracefully dance around your couch and guide your decorations back into their rightful places. “You need to sleep, as do I.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m ready to.” She brushes you off again as you feel your frustration beginning to build.

“What compelled you to see me at this hour?”

“I told you that I missed you.” With that same unreadable expression, she gently sets a Christmas teddy bear against your Christmas tree. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s enough when your actions match your words, Winter.” The words slip out of your mouth, callous and cold and completely unlike you.

Her expression sours as she looks at you.

“What did you say?”

You shyly look away as your frustration melts under her scrutinizing gaze. You were never good at standing up for yourself in front of her, but how could you let your heart fracture again and again as you dance in this endless “will-you-won’t-you” limbo with her?

“I’m tired of doing this with you. We flirt and tease and kiss but it never leads anywhere.”

It feels good to let your frustrations out, as you’re usually letting yourself melt into her embrace every time you’ve thought this in your head before. Although you’re not opposed to the night ending that way, you want to hear her say something first.

“Ah, so that’s what you meant.” Winter slowly walks towards you, but stops a few inches short of your reach.

She offers you her hand, an olive branch that you’re not familiar with, but you don’t take it right away.

“I want to hear you say it.” Your voice softens as you stare into her eyes.

“That I love you? I thought that was obvious - did the gifts not express my love for you? Do you want me to show you that I love you in a different way?”

“I just want to be yours, Minjeong. Sure, I’m affectionate and friendly with the other girls, but I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else since I met you. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just can’t keep doing… whatever this is anymore.” You pause to take a shaky breath. “I love you.”

You gently take her hand, which she immediately brings to her lips.

“I.” She presses a kiss to your hand before gently pulling you forward.

Her other hand cups your face as her lips meet your cheek.

“Love.”

Her hand leaves your hand and lands on your waist instead.

“You.”

Her lips meet yours, and you don’t hesitate to kiss her back.

The taste of sweet liquor, dangerous and fruity and addictive, hits your tongue as you attempt to memorize her taste for good.

It feels like every time I kiss her will be the last - isn’t that sad?

When you break away from her, you’re left breathless as a small smirk appears on her face.

“Is that enough to convince you that I love you?”

“Yup.” You sigh, completely and utterly lost in her world.

She could tell you sweet little lies, honey-coated false promises, and you’d believe every word.

She was the gospel, and you were the truest believer.

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like you’re not important. I know you’re busy with university, so I always thought that you wanted to wait. I never, ever met to push you away.” Winter’s hand leaves your face and intertwines with yours.

“I… should apologize too, for not expressing myself earlier.” You squeeze her hand in reassurance. “And thank you for leaving me that ornament a year ago.”

“You knew it was me?” Winter looks bewildered as you try to hide your laughter.

“Of course I did - who else would do something like that for me?”

“I-” She pauses before shaking her head. “Of course you did. You’re much smarter than anyone gives you credit for.”

“Ah, stop, you’re making me flustered!” You playfully push her away before her hands reach out to grab you again.

“C’mon, don’t tease me like this.” She nearly begs as she glances at a picture on a nearby shelf. “Otherwise I won’t take you on a date this Sunday~”

“Wait a minute,” You immediately grab onto her arm, “you’re serious?”

“I am. We have to make it official, after all.”

You give Minjeong the biggest smile before wrapping your arms around her torso.

“Thank you for everything. I’m glad you stopped by today, even if you didn’t come through the door.”

“You’re not going to tell the others about that, are you?” She looks concerned as you impishly laugh.

“Oh, you know I will.” You gently tap her nose before pulling her in for another kiss.

158 notes · View notes

pigcowboys · 1 year ago

Text

secret santa !

pairing: percy jackson x female!reader

summary: camp half-blood decides to do secret santa this year.

warning(s): pre-established relationship and kissing but, none, mostly!

a/n: merry (late) christmas to everyone who celebrates it!! this was supposed to be out on christmas day but.. uh yeah. this is slightly self-indulgent.

“you’re doing it right?” you asked, adjusting your position on your bunk bed as you tried your best to scrub out the nasty maroon stain you’d spilled onto the fabric.

it was almost christmas day and with that important birthday coming up, it meant only one thing for you, gift shopping. not that you hated it — honestly. it was just the idea of somehow disappointing your friends.

the stakes were higher this year considering the fact chiron had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa with the rest of the camp. everyone voted in agreement the idea — well, except for clovis but, to be fair he wasn’t conscious when the announcement was made.

soon after it was set in stone that the camp would be hosting its very first secret santa and then following that, everyone was assigned a partner.

piper got annabeth, annabeth got leo, leo got piper and somehow travis stoll had gotten clarisse. that last part was going to be interesting. you even got someone as well, too. not that it made you anxious at all, you loved gifting people presents — great at it, dare you say.

well, it was a bit easier to gift people presents when you didn’t have to worry about whether or not your gift would somehow make the person hate you and question why they even started dating you in the first place.

so, it was safe to say you weren’t especially overjoyed when you got percy as your secret santa. your mind went blank as you shifted to the side, allowing percy to slide past you to reach for his paper with his santa.

you eyed him curiously as he stared at the words on the paper indifferently before a smile flashed onto his face. he turned the paper so your eyes had access to it clearly, completely missing the moment when your heart dropped.

"we got each other," percy said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "that's lucky, right?" you merely laughed nervously in response.

"yeah, totally." not lucky, not lucky at all.

“everyone is,” annabeth started “why? are you changing your mind?” annabeth asked, causing you to frown slightly.

“well, no..i think.” you trailed off, eyebrows furrowing as you flung your sponge to the side. gods, you seriously hoped this would wash out after a while.

“i wouldn’t wanna spoil the fun.”

“plus, you’re curious about what your secret santa might’ve gotten you.” annabeth chimed in.

“that too.” you replied. "any idea what percy might have in mind?"

annabeth merely hummed in response leaving you even more conflicted than before. what if he gets you an amazing gift and all you get him is some crap that he'll say he loves, a fake smile on his face before dumping it somewhere in his cabin 'till the next secret santa.

you didn't want to be that girlfriend. you actively rebuke any allegations that may have even brought that idea up.

“i am so screwed.” you sobbed out, pressing your fingers against your face as you sighed dramatically.

“you have time, use it.” annabeth reminded you. she was right, it was only 2 days till christmas day and even then, secret santa wasn’t going to happen till later into the evening.

“just don’t use too much, shopping places are never open for late minute gifts.”

“right, okay..” you murmured out. "i have time."

those 2 days came and went sooner than you expected it to and by christmas day morning, you were frantically wrapping up percy’s gift, thoughts racing as you tried to not think about whether or not the gift would be cool enough for him.

he’s be happy with anything you got him, you knew that. didn’t make ease your mind any less, though. you stumbled out of your cabin as you rushed towards the decorated tree that was out near the forest, courtesy of the demeter kids.

to be honest, even if you liked christmas or disliked it, everyone could appreciate the effort put into decorating the tree. especially with all the presents stacked under - it added to the scene. you bent down, carefully placing it underneath the tree, not too close so that it would obviously stick out, but not too far that people would forget it was there.

this was a big camp, after all.

you'd made your way over the mess hall, scanning over it for any signs of percy before taking a plate and shoving food onto it. you spared a part for your godly parent and then made your way toward the table to sit with everyone else.

even with percy missing, the mess hall was still lively - believe it or not. everyone seemed to be talking lively about their gifts and what they were expecting, something that didn't ease your anxieties about your own gift.

it didn't help at all when your eyes finally settled on percy's own across the room, a small smile pulling on his face as he tended to his plate. your mind had been so zeroed in on worrying you hadn't even clued in on the fact he was walking over to you, taking a seat beside you.

"thanks for saving me a seat." you fought back a smile at the sound of his tired voice. he must've been knocked out sometime after sword practice. you hummed in response, fiddling with your food as your mind raced.

your eyes drifted towards percy as you watched him silently from the corner of your eyes. between the bed hair and the disheveled state of his clothes, it was safe to say that he had just woken up. despite the anxieties that swirled in your mind and the ansty fidgeting of your legs, you couldn't deny that percy was gorgeous.

though, it just brought your mind back to your dilemma. secret santa would happen right after dinner and then would be campfire time. how could you sit and sing songs at the campfire knowing percy had hated your gift?

"you're being stranger than usual, y'know."

"hm?" you turned to look at percy who gave you a quizzical look. "i'm acting completely normal."

"you've barely touched your food."

you stared down at your plate, it looked like a ghost had gently floated over it - devoid of human ingestion.

"i'm not hungry." you lied, slapping yourself mentally when your stomach growled deeply.

"mhm.." percy nodded along, trying to suppress the smile on his face. "what's wrong?" he asked, pushing his plate aside as he turned his whole body to face you, something that didn't go unnoticed by you as you locked eyes with him.

"just..thinking."

"about?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the tingling in your chest as you watched him carefully. you really hoped he hadn't caught onto the fact you were just checking him out at this point, turning your face away in embarrassment as you rested your head on your elbows,

"stuff."

"what kind of stuff?"

"important stuff."

"like what?"

"percy, will you leave me alone!" a laugh, followed by his hand brushing against your back soothingly. you titled your head up to look at him as your head rested on your elbows.

"sorry, sorry." he smiled. "just hang in there, okay?" was all he whispered in your ear before moving back to press a sloppy kiss to your head that made your face scrunch in disgust.

"gross...you're so disgusting, percy.." you murmur, wiping the wet blotch of spit that was left on your forehead from the kiss.

"i love you too."

"what'd you think you got?" piper asked, shifting in her seat slightly as she waited for annabeth to respond.

"you're asking me like you don't know what i got." annabeth replied with a small smile.

"can't hurt to imagine."

you zoned out the rest of the conversation as you suppressed the urge to scream out of frustration. the camp chatted lively around you, cueing you in on the fact that you'd been cuddled up beside percy without once offering a word to him.

not that he minded, he was aware you wanted to be with your thoughts and he respected it. just..didn't feel very..couple appropriate. it felt like you'd been talking to yourself way more than the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend.

"quiet down," chiron's voice rang through all the chatter, reducing the crowd to silence. he'd somehow managed to shimmy matching ugly christmas sweaters onto him and mr. d respectively. the image alone made you want to pull out your phone and snap a picture.

though, you decided against it, taking notice of the death glares mr.d had sent your way.

chiron announced that secret santa would be happening in a bit, receiving a series of cheers from some campers in the crowd. you shifted slightly in percy's hold, prompting him to look at you - a curious look on his face.

"you okay?"

"yeah, it's just kind of cold, i guess."

percy hummed in response before pulling you into him so you were resting against his chest. he rested his chin on your head with a small smile.

“is this better?” he whispered, to which you merely hummed in response, snuggling yourself against him as you tried to get comfortable. now, you weren’t a fan of those overly lovely couples that couldn’t keep their hands off each other in public but, you had to admit that being in percy’s arms felt more than good with the day you’ve had.

chiron continued on with his announcements, listing out the series of activities tomorrow and also stating as well that the stables would be closed on account of an “accident” that had happened in there. that part was received with a small shiver.

“that’s all i’d like to say, furthermore, I’d like to wish everyone a merry christmas.” then, chiron and mr.d stepped to the side as the festivities continued on.

it was time.

“wonder what everyone got.” you murmured, watching quietly as the rest of the campers hurried towards the tree decked out with over the top presents. percy stood up, offering you his hand as he locked them.

“me too.” percy agreed, sighing slightly. “gods, all i hope is that someone doesn’t make the mistake of gifting travis firecrackers ever again.”

“or a megaphone.”

“oh, yeah, i totally remember that year.”

“I’m sure everyone else does too..”

percy cracked a grin, one that cause your stomach to flutter slightly as you smiled back at him. he squeezed your hand before making short strides towards the rest of the campers.

you should’ve been anxious — you were anxious. though, your concerns seemed to slip away the longer you stayed with percy. the way he looked at you, it made you realize just one thing that you were sure a crummy present wasn’t going to change.

he loved you.

camp activities were fun and all but, extremely loud.

you’d figured it’d only been amplified by the fact that everyone was opening their christmas gifts and comparing what they’d gotten from each of their respective partners.

you could respect that, secret santa was no joke.

yet, you’d still managed to slip away with percy while none of the adults were watching in favorite of opening your gifts in the company of one another rather than the rest of the camp. and judging by the sputters of stars in the night sky illuminating percy and your faces, it was a good call.

“you think they’ll be mad at us for ditching everyone else?” you asked, clutching your present to your chest as you adjusted your winter coat.

“we’ll be back before they know it,” percy replied, turning to face you with a smile. he was always smiling. “and anyways, everyone else would be too busy with their presents to care.”

you sighed, taking a seat next to percy as you rested his gift in-front of you. percy turned to look at you with an anxious look on his face as he cleared his throat, holing his hand out as he waited for you to take the gift from him.

you looked back at him, nerves set ablaze as well as you exchanged your gifts, resting the wrapped present in your lap as you ogled the festive paper.

“so, truth be told — i’m pretty nervous.” percy blurred out of the blue.

“gods, i’m so glad you said that cause, i so was too.” you sighed softly, your heartbeat stilling for the first time this night as you shifted your body so you were turned towards percy. “i really wanted my gift to special and.. i feel like if it isn’t you’d like hate me or something.”

“i could never hate you.”

you paused for a moment. it’d only be a few years since you’d started to date percy, you should’ve been more used to his personality. yet, it never seemed to catch you off guard when he said these kind of sentimental things.

“even if i got you like..a smelly sock for christmas?”

percy laughed before shaking his head. you bite the inside of your mouth, frowning slightly as your face grew hot.

“sorry, i’ve been so quiet tonight.” you averted percy’s gaze, picking at the clear taping of your present. “it’s just — I don’t know, i guess i was lost in my own head.”

percy watched you quietly, leaning forward to cup your cheek as he planted a soft kiss to your lips, pulling back to stare you head on in your eyes.

“don’t apologize for something like that, it’s fine — really.” percy replied, his voice soft and careful. it made your body feel warm.

“if you want, you could open my gift first,” he added, moving his hand to rest atop yours. “that way you won’t be so nervous.”

you smiled, a genuine one. “that or your gift will be so amazing that it makes mine look horrible.” percy grinned back at you.

“let’s see.”

you nodded, turning to stare down the gift in your lap before you started to unravel it. it wasn’t a particularly big present, not that you minded at all. anything from percy was something to treasure. you moved the packaging to the side carefully as you stared at the small box that hit behind it.

it wasn’t cardboard, more like.. leather? or silk. and it was blue — percy’s trademark. you looked to him with a curious look on your face before turning back to gaze at the small box. you let your finger glide over the material once more before you opened it.

“percy..?” you mumbled out, voice barely a whisper.

inside the box contained a small ring that looked to be just about the size of your ring finger. your heart dropped at the sight of it — in a good way. it was pretty, careful patterns etched into that showed that it was finely crafted. and at the center of it, a small gem that was the same shade of your favorite color.

the cherry on top.

your eyes started to water involuntarily as your lips trembled. you were at a loss for words, how could you say anything? you stared at percy in shock as you tried to grasp the right words to say, eventually coming up with the idea to not say any words at all, leaning forward as you pulled him into a tight hug.

percy hugged back immediately, burying his head into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you gently.

you pulled back to look at him, tears pooling down your face as he wiped them away with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your tear stained cheeks.

“you’re..you’re totally insane for being nervous.” you managed out, laughing slightly as you choked back a sob. “how did you get the money to pay for this?”

“i saved up!” he replied brightly, a proud smile flashing on his face. your shoulders trembled as a warm laugh broke through your lips, causing percy to flush slightly in your hold.

“thank you so much percy.” you whispered, moving your hand to rest on his cheek as you spoke. “you really didn’t have to get me something like this.”

“it’s all fine.” he replied calmly. “it’s you were talking about, y’know.” your face burned with embarrassment as you smiled uncontrollably, pulling percy in for a deeper kiss.

you pulled away from him, watching quietly as percy took the small blue box you’d placed on the floor beside you and opening it. he held the promise ring in his hand, gently taking your own as he slid the ring on carefully. you watched him quietly before press another kiss to his face.

then another, and another.

and before you knew it, you were peppering kisses all over his face, taking the small giggles he emitted from his lips as a sign to do even more than before. percy managed your name out though his giggles, fingers digging into your winter coat as he tried to pry you off of him.

“the — gift!” he giggled, shutting his eyes tightly as you pressed another kiss to the bridge of his nose. “what about — your gift?”

“another time.” was all you whispered as you slid the gift away, focusing in on making sure you’d filled every single spot off percy’s with the feeling of your lips.

safe to say percy hadn’t gotten to see what you’d gotten him till a little later into the night.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #x reader #x reader fluff #pjo fluff

658 notes · View notes

fairestwriting · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!

another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters

Ace Trappola

One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.

He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.

When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.

Deuce Spade

The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.

Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.

Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.

Jack Howl

Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.

...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)

Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.

Epel Felmier

He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.

At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.

Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.

Sebek Zigvolt

Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.

He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.

He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #lis writing

457 notes · View notes

charlesf1leclerc · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: Christmas morning and surprises in the Leclerc family.

Warnings : suggestive content but no smut

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY. Hope you all have a wonderful day with your family or whoever’s you are celebrating with. I wish you all the happiness and hope that this fic serves as a little gift from me to you. Xx

It was all quite to begin with. But that would never last long especially on Christmas morning. You and Charles were close to each other in bed Charles had his arm around your waist. You were both sound asleep. Until..

The sound of footsteps came from down the hallway then your door opened and the there was the shaking and the sound of voices.

“ wake up , he came he came”

Your groaned and rolled back in your pillow you knew Christmas was exciting and you weren’t annoyed at your babies but sometimes you liked your sleep.

Charles arm slipped from around your waist as he rolled over to look at the three kids standing on his side of the bed.

“ who came? “ he asked obviously teasing them.

“ SANTA papa “ Sicily screeched

“ presents!” Remy yelled

“ ok ok shall we go downstairs and see what he brought” Charles said moving to get up

“Yes!” All the kids ran downstairs.

“ Darling “ Charles shook you and you rolled over to face him as you obviously hadn’t gone back to sleep.

“Come on let’s go downstairs I’ll make you some coffee” he laughed

You groaned but got up out of bed as you wanted to spend this morning with your children. He then wrapped his arms around and gave you a kiss on the head as you both went downstairs.

By the time you had all gotten downstairs and you and Charles were settled on the couch your three children were ripping into their piles of presents. With many different new toys coming out from the wrapping paper. With the occasion shrieks of joy and the show and tell to you and Charles. As well as the numerous demands of “open it papa” only for the toy to be unboxed then left behind to unwrap more presents.

“ Santa really spoiled you guys this year” you smiled as you watched Remy play with his new dinosaur toy on the ground, Indy inspecting her new roller skates , and Sicily with some slime that was in her stocking.

“ what about you mama and papa what did Santa bring you” Sicily asked.

“ Santa dosent come to adults “ Indy said in a obvious way

“ that’s right but it’s ok because mama and papa got each other presents “ Charles smiled.

You had been nervous about one of Charles presents for the late couple of days as you had been feeling off for awhile so you decided to take a test, a pregnancy test. It came back positive. Of course nothing was planned but you were sure Charles would be just as happy and supportive as all the other times.

“ merry Christmas my love” Charles handed you a pile of gifts and leant over to kiss you on the lips

“ ewww “ Indy and Sicily groaned , as Charles replied by sticking his tongue out at them.

The first gift was a refill of the perfume you wear every day and could never get enough of. The next gift was a beautiful silver bracket with a love heart and engraved in the heart was a I, S , R and C. And then the final box made him smirk and you were immediately suspicious of what was in there. When you opened it you immediately put the items back in the box closing the lid and giving Charles a death glare.

“ in-front of the kids Charles”

“ something special for you and me “ he smirked proud of the silk set within the box

“You are such a teenage horny boy”

“ ok my turn” you sang as you passed him his pile of gifts

You were getting more excited at sharing the news with him.

He opened the two first gifts revealing some clothes as he was in need of some more suitable day wear they wasn’t carry blue and white tye dye jeans, next was new AirPods and a new travel set of mini suitcases for race weekend. Then he finally came to the final box, the box which contained the next chapter of your lives. He slowly opened it and revealed the stick from under the tissue paper.

“ what’s this mon amour” you just continued to stare at him.

He picked it up examining it closer. Then his eyes grew wide

“No” he looked at you

You just nodded your head smiling

“ your pregnant!”

“ yeah”

“Cherie” he smiled leaning over to kiss your lips and hug you. Then leaning to put his hand on your stomach.

“ this is amazing , the best Christmas gift”

“Surprising this is your fault for not being able to keep your hands off me” you laughed as his hand was still on your stomach

“ you’re just irresistible Cherie” he kissed you again.

“ 4 kids we are really outnumbered now”

“ we’ll be okay” and you believed him you would be ok

“ what did you get papa” Sicily asked as now the two youngest kids were standing in-front of him

“ well mama is pregnant there’s gonna be another baby” he smiled

“ yay! A new girl” Sicily shriek alerted the youngest who didn’t quite understand the idea of a new baby

“ well we don’t know if it’s a girl baby” you laughed

“ well I know it is “ she smiled going back to her toys

Charles looked at Remy picking him up , placing him on his lap then snuggling further into you basking in the fact that it was Christmas and the fact a new baby was on the way. It was all ok though for now you would bask in the comfort of your family of 5 before next year the family would grow and Christmas will become even more special.

496 notes · View notes

bweeeb · 2 months ago

Text

🎄Christmas collection

LONELINESS

THEODORE NOTT X READER

Part 1

Warnings: Angst, maybe too much drama, idk, use of Y/n for once here. Very short. Nothing too much. there will be a part two of this ok?

I hope this makes you sad like it made me while I wrote it.

* Theo might sound like an idiot here, but things get better I promise *

Summary: Christmas has always been your favorite time of year, but things are starting to go wrong this year.

The castle had never been as silent as it was that night. It wasn't surprising that the Slytherin common room was empty, or that the Great Hall was quieter than it had been all year, or that the snow-covered courtyards were devoid of any foolish students breaking a bone by jumping off a snow-covered stone. It was Christmas Eve, and the pitying glances of the teachers, and especially the smug looks directed at me, had kept me cooped up in the common room all week. I wasn't supposed to be here; I was supposed to be in Paris, or anywhere else, as long as he was holding my hand and pulling me along with him. Theo and I had made plans, but he'd simply vanished after hearing rumors that I was flirting with the Hufflepuff, Mason Mount. Since when is getting help with Potions class flirting? Anyway, Theo and I had argued, and the next morning, I'd waited for him, not having any idea he'd gone and left me here. I waited an entire day, wondering if maybe he'd just gone to buy some Christmas socks and those funny, tacky clothes we'd planned to wear on Christmas, but no, he'd just gone. He knew I had no one else, and yet he left me here on my first Christmas alone. It's not very nice when even the ghosts are talking to each other and making strange noises, and I haven't had a normal conversation with anyone in over 96 hours.

Sometimes I'd see a couple or two climbing the stairs, their faces lit up with joy at the peace the castle was exuding at this time of year. Sometimes I'd see students who were simply used to spending their Christmases alone, studying because their families didn't celebrate. But not me. My mom had always made sure that our Christmases were the most important event of the year. Dad would help me make cookies, eating them all before I could finish decorating them, while Mom played the piano. The fireplace was warm, and for three days, we'd sit on the fluffy white rug in front of it, a mug of hot chocolate in our hands and the tree lights twinkling as we played Christmas-themed guessing games. If I'd known that last year would be my last with them, I would have locked us in and stayed there forever.

I curled up further into the green leather sofa in the common room, watching the fire consume the logs. The common room was one of the coldest areas of the castle, and even though there weren't many windows, the cold wind seemed to dance through our hall. As stupid as it seemed to stay downstairs in this cold, my room was even colder, and the blankets I'd conjured with magic hadn't become warm enough. Mom had always told me that our magic was only as strong as our belief in the magic around us, so maybe that was why nothing was working very well. My pajamas weren't warm enough to keep me cozy, since my heavier winter robes were far away and had somehow gotten caught somewhere along the way, and even magic hadn't worked its magic.

Shivering against my own body, I snorted, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. The clock struck midnight, and a shaky sigh escaped my lips. I hated how ridiculous I looked now. The only group of three students passed by me. Even though it was late, the bedtime curfew on holidays was relaxed, so it wasn't unusual to see some of us out and about. They wished me a Merry Christmas and disappeared, leaving me there. Now that I figured hardly anyone else would show up, my tears streamed down my face like waterfalls as I buried my face in my arms, my knees drawn up to my chest.

Christmas wasn't supposed to be like this. At Christmas, there should be nothing but tears of joy, but it was so hard not to feel pain.

Somewhere between my crying and exhaustion, I fell asleep. I closed my eyes and no longer heard my sobs.

__________________________________________

Part two

#fanfic #theo fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #harry potter #lorenzo zurzolo #harry potter x reader #theodore nott #Lorenzo Zurzolo angst #angst with a happy ending #theo nott x y/n #christmas #christmas imagine

87 notes · View notes

kvroomi · 1 month ago

Text

the twelve days of christmas (kuroo’s ver)

summary: the twelve days leading up to christmas with kuroo and the different ways he shows you his love each time.

listening to: anything - adrienne lenker

tags: kuroo x fem!reader, domestic fluff, minor swearing, reader’s first language is english, reader has hair

author note: IM SO LATE I KNOW, but a massive late merry christmas to all who celebrate! hoping everyone is doing well these winter or summer holidays and spending time with/doing who/what you all love the most. wishing everyone well into this coming new year! may 2025 bring you wealth and good health ❤️‍🩹

i giggled to myself too many times while writing this it’s embarrassing i seriously think this is the cutest thing i’ve ever posted. also just wanted to share that the second i started writing for the final day (day 12), it turned 11:11 and i think that’s a sign

on the first day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—a single christmas ornament personalised with your initials. his fingers held the small box in a way that was both cautious and arrogant—a perfect portrayal of his well-known charm. his frame leaned against the doorway to your apartment, his cheeks flushed from the december cold and the faintest smirk decorating his lips.

you were seated on the couch, your hands curled around a mug of tea. though you loved winter, it just happened to be one of those evenings where the world outside felt grey and cold. you supposed your long day was partly to blame, though you’d almost immediately forgotten about it the second you stepped inside, because there he was; he who was always warm and always golden.

“on the first day of christmas,” he began dramatically, “your loving boyfriend gifted to thee…” trailing off, he held the box aloft like it was the climax of some grand performance.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed though very amused. “is it socks? please tell me it’s socks. i feel like i’ve been dropping very unsubtle hints.”

your own interest had piqued just from your rambles alone, your mind unconsciously racking through endless possibilities of what could be in the box. now your body has shifted from casually leaned up on the back of the couch to sitting at the edge, eager to find out what gift awaited you.

“socks?” kuroo scoffed, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “do i look like the kind of guy who gives socks on day one? socks are at least day four material.”

“ah, my mistake.” you purse your lips in apology before taking a sip of your tea and watching as he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours.

“wait, hold on.there’s more gifts coming?” you whipped your head towards his in realisation.

kuroo smelled faintly of pine. whether from a nearby tree lot or just because he insisted on using a “woodsy” cologne, you couldn’t tell. he simply shrugged sheepishly in response and you gave a wearisome huff.

“alright well… go on then, magician. what’s in the box?”

with a theatrical wave, kuroo opened the lid. inside was a single christmas ornament: shiny and delicate, etched with your initials in exquisite gold lettering. it caught the dim light of your living room and scattered it like tiny stars.

you stared at it for a moment, caught off guard by how sweet it was—intimate, even. it wasn’t that kuroo was incapable of romance. he was, in his own teasing way… but this felt different. it felt a lot more thoughtful.

“an ornament,” you said finally, reaching out to touch it. “wow... this is… weirdly adorable. are you feeling okay?”

“don’t ruin it,” he hushed pretending to be offended, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “i thought we’d start a tradition. every year, one new ornament. you know, build up a collection. by the time we’re old and grey, we’ll have a whole tree full of memories. romantic, right?” he winked playfully.

you blinked, caught between laughter and something warmer and deeper. “that’s actually—wow. that’s disgustingly sweet, tetsu.”

“i’m just full of surprises, babe.” his hand dipped gently into the box and handed you the ornament, fingers lingering against yours. “just don’t get too used to it because tomorrow’s gift is going to be hilariously impractical.”

you turned the ornament over in your hand, the gold initials shining faintly. “okay… i just can’t get over how my initials are way prettier than yours? if this tradition continues, i fear we might need to just skip out on an ornament with your name so the tree stays pretty.”

“pffft, it’s not my fault you’ve got better branding,” he grinned as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “if it makes you feel better, next year i’ll go full kuroo—big and bold. i’m thinking something shiny and impossible to ignore. perhaps an ornament shaped like my face instead?”

you laughed, leaning into him. “i’d hang it front and center, right where everyone could see it.”

his smile softened. “great. that’s where i’d want it to be.”

you stayed like that for a while, his hand tracing slow circles on your shoulder. outside, the world was cold and distant, but thanks to kuroo, it felt like the season itself was bright, and full of beginnings.

on the second day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—two matching christmas mugs lined with photos from your recent photobooth trip. kuroo lied yesterday when he said today’s gift was going to be “hilariously impractical” but he wouldn’t tell you until you found out yourself. the box was suspiciously light when he handed it to you, his grin giving away both everything and nothing at all. he’d ambushed you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you prepped your nightly tea with a knowing look.

it was day two of his so-called “twelve days of christmas” series, and if yesterday’s ornament hadn’t been both weirdly heartwarming, you might have been more cautious. but this was kuroo—the fun was in the gamble.

“i know you’re dying to see what’s inside,” he urged, the teasing lilt in his voice as familiar as his cologne. “guess. it’s the perfect gift for someone like you.”

“someone like me?” you narrowed your eyes, glancing between him and the box. “what’s that supposed to mean? should i be insulted?”

he placed his chin between his index finger and thumb, thoughtfully. “hmmm… insulted, no. concerned, maybe. thrilled? definitely.”

you scowled at him before turning to open the box slowly, drawing it out just to see him fidget. inside was a white mug—unassuming, plain, even. too plain for kuroo. you turned to him, mug in one hand and the other on your hip.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “a mug. revolutionary. thank you tetsuro for single-handedly redefining the art of gift giving.”

“ah-ah.” he wagged a finger in front of your face, grabbing the mug before you could set it down along with the other mugs in your extensive collection. “this isn’t just a mug. this is a magic mug.”

you blinked. once. twice. and three times before stuttering out a “sorry?”

he sauntered to the kettle, pouring hot water into the cup with the flair of a magician revealing the final act. you watched almost agonisingly slowly, as the heat spread and the surface began to change. the once white mug was now fading to colour. your breath hitched as the image emerged: a photo from your last impulsive photo booth trip.

there you were, mid-laugh with your face tilted toward his. his grin was wide and toothy, hand half-raised as if mid-gesture. the next frame showed your cheeks puffed in anger, while kuroo looked genuinely alarmed with one hand outstretched as if apologizing. and the cherry on top of the final frame? pure love—his chin buried in your shoulder with your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing his face into something utterly ridiculous.

you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, warm and unfiltered. “oh my god, this is what you chose?”

“what can i say?” he pushed himself back against the counter, watching your reaction with a soft sort of pride. “i’m a sucker for authenticity and you look adorable in that last one.”

“adorable?!” another laugh bubbled from you as you gestured wildly at the cup, now fully transformed. “i look like i’m wrestling you into submission!”

“exactly,” he uttered, completely serious. “it’s very ‘us.’”

half-exasperated, half-melting under the sheer absurdity of it all, you replied. “i’m going to use this in every meeting i have. i’ll be sipping from this in front of clients and coworkers.”

he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “perfect. let the world know you’re stuck with me.”

cue the classic eye roll. the warmth in his voice, the way he let his fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm—it disarmed you, as it always did.

“well,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “i guuuueeeesss i do need a mug for tea.”

“that’s the spirit.” he picked up his own matching mug, the photo identical but reversed. “and now, when we’re apart, you can look at me squished like a pancake and remember how much you love me.”

for the third time, you couldn’t help but laugh again, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “you’re ridiculous.”

his voice dipped low as he kissed your temple, “here you are loving me anyway.”

and he was right. of course he was right.

on the third day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—three of his favourite, special, christmas recipes. he arrived at your door with a snow-dusted grin and a peculiar sort of confidence—though that was nothing out of the blue. he held a single envelope; it was a little worn around the edges, with your name scribbled across the front in his messy, self-assured handwriting. no grand box like the past two days, no wrapping paper, and no telltale jingles of something extravagant. all that was held between his fingers was the envelope.

“is this a love letter?” you asked, pulling him inside by the sleeve of his coat to stop the cold from clinging to his cheeks. his cheeks were a warm shade of pink and had you had stared at them any longer than you already had, you would’ve kept him outside just so you could stare at how soft he looked for even longer. “because i gotta say, day three seems a little early for declarations of undying devotion.”

“ha ha, not a love letter,” he responded sarcastically, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. he stood in the middle of your walkway with his hands on his hips, watching you with that unshakable kuroo observation. “though if you want one i could probably draft something up. i’d write about your eyes, your laugh, and the way you snore when you’re—”

a single flick to his forehead to stop him before he could finish, and he lets out a laugh, all mischief and charm.

“okaaay, what’s in the envelope, then?” you asked, shaking it lightly as you moved toward the kitchen. naturally, kuroo followed like he belonged in your space.

“three gifts in one,” he announces, tapping the counter. “an entrée, a main course, and a dessert—recipes straight from the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic.”

you nodded, taking in what he said and ending it with a shrug. “the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic? huh, sounds legit.”

“oh, it’s legit,” kuroo leaned in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “these are the recipes that made my grandma call me her favourite. this—” he jabs at the envelope in your hand before continuing, “—holds recipes my teammates still beg me to make whenever i’m back home. they’re recipes that are, dare i say, iconic.”

you opened the envelope, pulling out three sheets of paper each written in his handwriting, complete with small drawings in the margins.

as your fingers traced the edges of the paper, the room shifted. the glow of the kitchen lights softened, the air thick with something quiet and familiar. you’d awaited a playful gesture—a joke gift wrapped in kuroo’s usual brand of teasing. perhaps something loud and irreverent to match the way he filled a room, but this? this was different.

the ink on the pages flowed sweetly from one side to the other—slightly smudged in places. you knew it spoke of hours spent leaning over a counter, a pen in his hand and you in his mind. each word carried a history with memories of family kitchens—laughter echoing through the years, a tradition he was choosing to share with you. it was so intimate in a way that pressed against the deepest crevices of your heart, unexpected and unspoken. it was like being handed the key to a door you hadn’t realized you’d been standing in front of.

all you could do was glance up at him, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you hadn’t yet let go. “this feels… so personal,” was all you could squeeze out, quieter than you meant to.

kuroo who was against the counter, watched with an expression that was almost unreadable, his usual smirk replaced with a smile. “it is,” was all he said, and the weight of those words settled over you like snow on the branches outside.

it wasn’t just recipes. it wasn’t just a gift. it was a glimpse into the places he didn’t offer easily to the world—the spaces he reserved for family, for love, for you. the realisation unfurled slowly like the first bloom of warmth on a winter morning.

“hey,” he murmured whilst stepping closer, his hand brushing against yours as he gently laid the pages down onto the kitchen counter. “don’t overthink it. i just wanted to give you something real. something that… feels like home.”

you glanced down at the pages. the first was for an appetizer: roasted chestnut and butternut squash soup. there were notes about how the squash needed to be caramelised just right, along with a drawing of a smiling chestnut wearing a christmas hat.

the second was the main dish: honey-glazed ham with a cranberry-orange reduction. beneath the instructions he’d written, ‘if this doesn’t make you swoon, i’m giving up on holidays forever.’

the third was dessert, of course. written in black ink was his family’s secret recipe for gingerbread cookies with notes on how to make them crispy on the edges but soft in the middle. there was a poorly sketched gingerbread man doing a backflip in the corner.

“tetsuro,” you whispered reading through them, the thoughtfulness sinking in. “these are actually amazing.”

“of course they are,” he responds, moving to stand behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder as he peered at the recipes. “but they’re not just recipes. they’re invitations.”

“invitations?”

he tilted his head slightly, his hair brushing against your cheek. “to make them. together. think of it as a bonding exercise. or a relationship test. can we survive one kitchen, one oven, and three recipes without a holiday meltdown? high stakes, i know.”

now you really couldn’t hold back the laugh. folding the papers back into the envelope you continued, “so, what happens if we pass this ‘test’? what’s the reward?”

he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his voice warm and teasing. “you get to keep me, obviously. and maybe some awesome leftovers.”

you turn to face him, envelope in hand. your chest settles with the same feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the kitchen. “you know,” you lean in slightly, “for a guy who smuggles his personality in through bad puns and bad jokes, you’re actually kind of romantic.”

“kind of?” he echoed, feigning offense. “i just handed you the culinary equivalent of my heart, and i get “kind of” romantic?”

you kissed him, cutting off his fake tirade. your hands find their way to his collar and when you pulled back, his grin was smug but softer, like he’d just won something only the two of you could understand.

“now, which recipe do we ruin first?”

on the fourth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—four candles, each paired with a scent from a particular memory you had through every season that year. the snow on his shoes had melted into slush by the time kuroo had arrived home from work, boots squeaking on the wooden floors as he entered your apartment. dropping his scarf onto your chair and his coat on another, he finally let himself fall on the armrest of your couch. low and behold, balancing on his leg was yet another box, significantly larger that the past two he had gifted you already.

“are you here to redecorate or ruin our furniture?” you asked, looking up from your laptop as you glared at the wet spots forming around your couch.

“i bring gifts,” he announced proudly like a dramatic oracle. “four of them, actually. one for every season.”

you hummed. “wait! let me guess, a pinecone for winter, a seashell for summer, a pile of wet leaves for autumn—”

“wow. you really have not been giving me any credit, even after yesterday’s absolute banger of a gift!” kuroo interrupted while you snorted next to him, watching as he scooted closer to you on the couch and handed you the box. “this, my love, is the culmination of hours of research, consideration, and—you’ll be surprised to hear—minimal swearing.”

you sat up intrigued, raising an eyebrow and peeled the lid off. nestled inside were four candles, each carefully labeled with a card on top in his handwriting which had looked like it had been scrawled by a caffeinated bird—you found it so endearing

“spring: cherry blossoms and rain-soaked pavement,” you read aloud, pulling the first candle out.

“‘cause of the park!” kuroo winked at you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “y’know, when we tried to have a picnic but you spent half the time yelling at me to stop stepping in the puddles?”

“tried is the keyword there,” you retorted wittily, though your lips curved into a frown at the memory. “and you splashed mud on my shoes.”

“you mean i decorated your shoes,” he shot back without missing a beat.

the summer candle came next, and the scent of salty air and something faintly fruity filled your nostrils. you froze.

“the beach,” it was such a distinct memory for both you and kuroo, “the one with the frisbee game…”

“where i heroically rescued it from that evil seagull,” he finished, and when you looked up towards him, his grin was unapologetic.

“you ate shit running away afterwards.”

“unnecessary details, babe,” he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand.

autumn smelled like spiced cider and faint traces of smoke, the memory wrapped around you like a worn flannel—cool nights, warm hands, and kuroo pointing at the sky with wild confidence as he made up constellations.

“that one’s kuroo’s cluster,” he’d sleepily said that night, pointing to a random spot in the sky. “because it looks like it forgot what it was doing halfway through.”

that candle earned a spot on the coffee table.

finally, winter. the label read ‘evergreen and vanilla latte’ and as soon as the wick was lit, the room was filled with something achingly familiar. the scent of him—of mornings spent curled up together with his laughter spilling into your coffee like the easiest thing in the world.

you didn’t speak for a moment; you didn’t trust your voice. instead, you reached for the winter candle again, holding it like it might explain something to you if you focused hard enough.

“i thought they might be nice to have around,” kuroo added, his tone quieter now as he watched you with that expression he wore when he thought you weren’t paying attention. “like, if i’m not here or something. you’d still… have the moments. or the scents. or—okay, i’m bad at explaining this.”

“you’re not,” this time you were the one to interrupt him—though your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly at the edges.

his grin usual returned, soft and crooked. “you’re not gonna cry, are you? i don’t have tissues on me.”

you snorted, swiping at your eyes before any tears could fall. “i’m just impressed. you managed to make yet another gift that’s thoughtful and functional. what’s next? a calendar with all the dates we’ve argued circled in red?”

“now there’s an idea,” he laughed—big, loud, and very kuroo. resting an arm along the back of the couch, he sighs. “but that’s for next year. for now, you just get the candles. and me, obviously.”

“ how lucky i am,” you mocked, though when he leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours, the words fell into the warm silence between you.

“you are, actually,” his voice was low and teasing, “because i really am as great as i smell.”

for once, you didn’t argue.

on the fifth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—five flowers all wrapped up in a bouquet he designed himself. it was just after sundown when kuroo was unlocking the door and stepping inside of your home. the paper he held was crinkled in his grip while the flowers peeked out at odd angles, a mix of bold colors and delicate whites. you cocked a brow at him, eyes wandering and questioning

“is this day five?” you gestured to the bouquet. “don’t get me wrong, i’m so grateful… but what’s the theme here, tetsuro? did you run out of budget or is this an act of minimalism?”

his grin was slow and easy, the kind that always seemed to have a secret tucked behind it. you learned to accept it. he laughed, stepping past you and into your apartment, leaving the cold trailing behind. “i may have argued with the florist over ribbon choices—but that’s besides the point.”

“wha—” he handed you the bouquet with a seductive wink. as you took it, you noticed the odd composition—a single red tulip, a deep purple iris, a white daisy, a bright yellow sunflower, and a pale pink rose.

“five flowers for five things,” stepping back to watch your expression, he continued, “each one is for something i love about you.”

and just when you thought it wasn’t possible for kuroo to surprise you anymore than he already did, you were proven wrong again. stilling, you let yourself feel the weight of his words as they settled into tge tips of your fingers. “you made this?”

“mmm, well i designed it,” he corrected, the smugness now tempered by something a little more humble. “technically i only arranged it. poured my soul into it though. the tulip’s for how bold you are. you’ve got this way of standing out even when you think you’re blending in. it’s infuriating, honestly.”

you ran your fingers over the tulip’s petals, and his voice softened as he pointed to the next.

“the iris is for how much smarter you are than me.” there was no bite in his tone. “don’t get a big head about it, i still beat you at trivia night last month.” you opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving on.

“the daisy? for how annoyingly kind you are. to me, to strangers, to stray cats in alleyways. you make everyone feel like they matter.”

your throat tightened as his fingers brushed over the edge of the sunflower.

“this one’s for how much light you bring into my life. it’s cheesy as hell, trust me i know, but…” all he offered was a shrug, his grin faltering for a split moment. “i mean it.”

he hadn’t looked up at you yet, still in a dream state as he gazed at the last flower. pausing at the rose, his hand dropped back to his side. his pitch lower, more intimate, when he said, “and the rose is for how much i love you. no explanation needed for that one.”

the only sound you could hear was the faint of the bouquet as you shifted it in your hands. for a moment, all the teasing and the wit and the usual sharpness between you dissolved into something quieter—something raw and real.

“tetsu,” you said softly, but you couldn’t find the words to follow.

if there was one thing you loved more than his gifts, it was his dorky lopsided grin. “i told myself i wouldn’t get all sappy,” he scratched the back of his neck. “but you know how i get around flowers. turns me into a total poet.”

“not a very good one,” if there was one thing you could manage while holding back tears, it was witty retorts to kuroo’s words.

“yikes,” he feigned hurt, but his smile didn’t falter. “so, do you like it? orrrr should i just stick to chocolates next year?”

you looked down at the bouquet. gazing at every colour, at the thought he’d put into every flower, every scent, every message hidden in their petals—your heart ached with the weight of it.

“i love it,” you whimpered, your voice trembling just enough for him to catch it. “i love you.”

his smile softened, his hand reaching up to brush a stray hair from your face. “good,” his voice was warm. “because i’ve got seven more days of this, and i’m not letting you return a single gift.”

on the sixth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—six different ways to say “i love you” in different languages. kuroo waltzed into your living room on the sixth day of his increasingly elaborate holiday gifting holding a small stack of cue cards in one hand and an overly confident grin on his face.

“alright,” he began, dropping onto the couch beside you, “today’s gift is educational: a little bit of culture, a little bit of romance.”

setting your mug of tea down in interest, you were skeptical—like always. “if this ends with me being serenaded in bad french, i’m locking you out.”

he loudly gasped in offense, clutching the cue cards to his chest. “excuse me? my french is impeccable.”

“your french is embarrassing.”

ignoring you, he flipped the first card toward you, reading it aloud. in his handwriting were the words, je t’aime.

“see? classic,” his accent was questionable at best. “it’s romantic, it’s timeless. and you can’t deny that it sounds a little better than just ‘i love you.’”

“except when you say it like that,” you teased.

he pretends to be unfazed, choking back a laugh and your playful jab. he revealed the next card: ich liebe dich.

“this one’s german. it’s efficient and to the point like a well-engineered car,” he said, adding a dramatic comparison. “say it back. come on. ich liebe dich.”

“i’m not repeating that.”

“coward,” he muttered, flipping to the third card: ti amo.

“now, this one is for when i’m feeding you pasta,” he gestures extravagantly. “picture it: candlelit dinner, spaghetti, me leaning over the table like i’m straight out of an old Italian film. “ti amo.”.”

you snorted. “more like you spilling marinara sauce on your shirt.”

“uncultured,” he sighed, shaking his head.

the next card read, saranghae. he held it up with a bit more reverence.

“this one’s korean,” he explained. “it’s sweet, right? got a nice rhythm. saranghae.” there was a pause, almost in quiet contemplation, before kuroo then added slyly, “you’re swooning right now, i can tell.”

“oh, absolutely. weak in the knees,” you said straight faced.

“perfect. that’s the goal.”

the fifth card: te quiero.

“spanish. it means ‘i love you,’ but it’s also like, ‘i care about you.’ multifaceted. practical and emotional,” he said, tapping his temple like it was a genius move.

you smiled, “are you planning to take me on a multilingual tour of love, or are we stopping here?”

“patience, my love,” and kuroo flipped to the final card. aloha wau iā ʻoe.

“that’s hawaiian,” he said, his tone softer now. “it’s not just ‘i love you.’ it’s… bigger than that. like, ‘i carry you with me.’”

he grinned, setting the cards aside. “see? i’m not just a pretty face.”

“you’re insane,” you shook your head, your voice betraying the warmth blooming in your chest and the small smile that lingered across your lips.

“and yet,” he teased, leaning closer, “you’re still here. must be the german.”

“definitely not.”

on the seventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—seven handmade coupons for morning coffees made by yours truly, (kuroo). you woke up to the sound of him humming in the kitchen, the smell of coffee curling through the air and gently rolling you awake. when you stumbled into the room (still half-asleep), he greeted you with a little stack of paper slips tied together with string.

“good morning, sleeping beauty,” he pushed a warm cup of coffee into your hands. “your seventh gift awaits.”

you squinted at him and then at the handmade coupons he held out. each one had “one homemade morning coffee” written across it.

“coupons?” you questioned flatly.

“not just coupons,” he quickly answered, moving to send a flick to your forehead. “these are artisanal. limited edition. handcrafted with love.”

“they look like they were crafted by a toddler.”

“ouch,” he whined, clutching his chest as though wounded. “but fine, let’s break it down. seven coffees for each day of the week, exactly how you like them. frothy milk, not too hot. just a dash of cinnamon, because i know you pretend not to like it but secretly, you love it.”

he had read you to filth. “and what happens after i use up all seven?”

“oh, you’ll be addicted by then,” he replied with a charismatic wink. “i’m just playing the long game.”

toying with the crumpled paper and inspecting them more closely, you notice one of them had an additional note scribbled in the corner: bonus: i’ll even let you take the last sip of my coffee ;)

you shook your head in disbelief. this was so unlike kuroo. with furrowed brows, you turned to him, “you hate sharing coffee.”

“uh, correction: i hate sharing coffee with other people. with you, it’s an act of love.”

“and when can i actually make good with these?” you asked, tucking the coupons into your pocket.

“whenever you demand it,” he bowed, “i’m at your service always—currently a barista for hire. oh but i must say, full disclosure, my latte art is limited to blobs.”

“blobs?”

“abstract hearts,” he clarified with a grin. “call it modern—trendy, if you will”

kuroo’s coffee was as much of an experience as it was a drink. the surface of the latte was crowned with an ambitious attempt at foam art—what could generously be described as a heart. a faint dusting of cinnamon kissed the frothy top, swirling faintly as the steam rose.

it definitely wasn’t perfect, but it was him—warm, unpolished, and just a little disordered. you could already imagine it in your head, the endearing way he would’ve tilted his head, squinting at the cup like an artist critiquing his own masterpiece.

you laughed, shaking your head at the thought. kuroo must’ve thought you were laughing at his response because he was quick to be defensive.

“hey, all hearts are beautiful,” his arms were sternly crossed against his chest as he stared down at you. “besides, you drink it—not frame it.”

so with a nod, you sipped the coffee in your hands. to no one’s surprise—he’d made it perfectly, nailing everything down to the faint sprinkle of cinnamon you always pretended not to want.

“okay,” you clapped both your hands together enthusiastically, setting the mug down and pushing all the coupons into your pocket. “you’re on the clock for the rest of the week. let’s see if you can actually make seven cups as good as this one.”

kuroo smirked, holding the cup up like it was his greatest triumph. “challenge accepted. but don’t get used to this level of service. i’m not planning on opening a café any time soon.”

you feigned a groan of anguish, already mourning the image you had of him in an apron with his name embroidered across the front in your head.

“oh, you’re definitely opening a café,” you teased. “i’m making it my eighth gift request.”

“dream big, babe,” he laughed, sending a pinch to your cheek before walking towards to living room. “for now, enjoy the best coffee in town, made by the best boyfriend in the world.”

it was silly and over-the-top. yet, as you watched him carefully pour milk into another mug for himself, you couldn’t help but smile into your own coffee; there might be something dangerously romantic about a man who knows your drink order better than you do.

on the eighth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eight slices of your favourite pizza. the pizza box was waiting for you on the counter unwrapped. the unmistakable aroma of your favorite pizza in the air—an irresistible invitation. kuroo, sitting at the dining table, watched you approach it with an excited smile.

“eight slices,” he gestured grandly as he stood up, both hands present the box to you. “one for each day of christmas so far. thoughtful, isn’t it?” he pretended to flick back a long piece of hair in an attempt of confidence.

“you know i’ll eat this entire thing in one sitting,” you felt like you could cry from happiness, already reaching for the lid.

“exactly.” he tapped his temple. “a gift that vanishes is a gift you can’t overthink. i’m saving you from existential dread.”

you laughed, thanking him as you opened the box. there it was: your favorite pizza, glistening like a treasure chest filled with molten gold and perfectly crisp toppings. the ultimate kicker? each slice had been marked with a sharpie inside the box.

“tetsuro… what are these labels?”

“guided eating,” he straightened up.

sure enough, written beside each slice in his looping handwriting were notes:

slice 1: for courage, because braving multiple years with me deserves a medal.

slice 2: for patience, because i’m pretty sure i’m still not folding the laundry right and you fix it every time without any complaint.

slice 3: for joy, because watching you smile is better than any christmas lights.

slice 4: for forgiveness (in advance), for what i might say during monopoly later.

slice 5: for luck, because you’ll need it to beat me at monopoly later.

slice 6: for love, because i can’t put that in words so i’ll give you pizza.

slice 7: for adventure, in case you want to try pineapple on your pizza next time.

slice 8: for tomorrow, unless you eat this one too. which honestly, i think you should.

you couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or throttle him for being such an over-the-top sap.

“this is such an odd gift, tetsu!,” you couldn’t stop laughing, though your eyes stung and your chest ached in that intimate, tender way he always managed to conjure.

“oddly perfect?” he sheepishly replied, grabbing a slice and handing it to you. “come on. start with courage.”

immediately you took a bite and sighed. it was exactly as good as you remembered. somehow knowing he’d gone through the trouble of this strange display made it even better.

“you’re quite weird,” you said, wiping your lips with a napkin.

“oh come on, you love me,” he bumped his hip with yours.

you glanced at the box and then at him. you thought about how much of yourself he’d somehow folded into this simple, silly gift—your personality and your habits.

“i do,” you admitted, because how could you not?

as you grabbed the next slice: patience—you decided that eight slices of pizza might just be the most romantic thing you’d ever been given.

on the ninth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—nine random, sweet text messages that pop up randomly throughout the day. the first one buzzed into your phone just as you were pulling on your coat, the frosted morning sunlight bleeding through the blinds.

tetsu: on the 9th day of christmas my true love gave 2 me

tetsu: one notification 2 make u smile.

tetsu: good morning, 2 my favourite person ever.

it was simple and playful—and it did its job. you did smile. giddily tugging your scarf tighter against the chill, you headed out the door.

the second one came while you were waiting for your coffee, a notification cutting through the quiet of the café.

tetsu: if i were a latte, i’d want 2 b the one in ur hand rn

tetsu: u always pick the good ones

you almost rolled your eyes but found yourself chuckling into your sleeve. he had a knack for being perfectly timed and charming simultaneously.

by the third, you realised this wasn’t a coincidence. he was going to send you nine, sweet, little messages throughout today.

tetsu: just saw a dog wearing a little sweater and thought of u

tetsu: not sure why

tetsu: both equally adorable.

it hit your phone as you walked past a store display of knitted scarves, the kind you knew he’d wrinkle his nose at and insist were “over-engineered neck warmers.” you texted back a sarcastic ‘wow, smooth’ and almost swore you could hear his laughter from wherever he was.

the fourth through sixth arrived like little spoonfuls of sugar in your coffee, scattered throughout your day.

#4 tetsu: if i told u i missed u, would u roll ur eyes or tell me 2 hurry home?

tetsu: asking 4 science

#5 tetsu: totally random fact

tetsu: u’re the best person i know

tetsu: not random enough?

tetsu: fine. penguins have knees

#6 tetsu: it’s scientifically proven that texting u makes me 87% happier

tetsu: i just ran the numbers

by the seventh text, you were incredibly flustered. not because they were overly romantic (he always balanced it with his wit), but because they were clever, thoughtful, and wholly attuned to you in a way that felt almost unfair.

the eighth came as you were locking up for the evening, fumbling with your keys.

tetsu: i’d offer 2 carry the world for u but u’re doing a pretty good job carrying it urself

tetsu: don’t work 2 hard

it was such a simple set of words, but it hit you in a way none of the others had. its tenderness slipped through your defenses. naturally, you stopped—fingers tightening around your phone wondering how someone could make you feel so seen from miles away.

the ninth and final message arrived when you were home. you were peeling off your layers and finally sinking into the couch when you felt the vibration in your pant pocket.

tetsu: if love was measured in words then nine texts wouldn’t come close

tetsu: but hey, it’s a start

tetsu: c u soon

the doorbell rang almost immediately after and you couldn’t help but giggle as you opened it to find him standing there with snow in his hair, a grin on his face, and two cardboard cups of steaming hot chocolate in his hands.

“nine texts weren’t enough,” he said with a shrug. “thought i’d deliver the tenth in person.”

you let him in with a kiss. still laughing, you decided that no matter how odd or cheesy his efforts were, you wouldn’t choose to have him any other way.

on the tenth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten silly little drawings of you. the tenth day of christmas came as quickly as the past couple days had. after dinner had been packed away—dishes done and table cleaned, you and kuroo sat across each other at the dinner table with bowls of ice cream in front of you. it was then that from under the table, kuroo pulled out and handed you a mismatched stack of papers tied together with a velvet ribbon that looked suspiciously too elegant for something he’d own. you gave him a look, one eyebrow arched. “did you steal this ribbon from one of my gifts?”

“i repurposed it!” he defended, nudging the stack closer to you from across the table with his spoon and air of mock grandeur. “quick! my magnum opus awaits.”

you untied the ribbon, and the first thing you saw was a piece of cardboard with what appeared to be a stick figure rendition of you sitting cross-legged on a couch. above it were the words, “my muse, lost in thought (translation: watching trashy reality tv)”.

“what the—?” you interrupted yourself trying to suppress a laugh as you turned to the next page. a receipt from your local grocery store confused you, but once you flipped to the back, you saw it. kuroo had sketched a profile view of you mid-yawn, the exaggerated swoop of your hair curling over your head like a wave.

“it’s art, obviously,” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look. “it’s called ‘ten views of my love in her natural habitat.’”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” there was a familiar warmth growing in your chest—one you had been feeling every day this week.

you flipped through the rest:

a coffee sleeve: sketched was you, deep in concentration with a mug in your hand, sitting on the couch with the caption, “she said she wasn’t a morning person, but look at her with that coffee. magnificent.”

the back of a to-do list: sketched was you, mid-argument with your stick-figure arms dramatically flailing with the caption, “terrorising me because i forgot to do the laundry (but she’s right).”

a post-it note: sketched was you, reading a book with the words “too pretty to be distracted” written at the top in kuroo’s terrible handwriting.

by the sixth drawing, it was on the back of an old takeout menu—you stopped trying to hide your grin. “you’re actually pretty talented, you know that?”

“ridiculously talented,” he grinned back. “and ridiculously smitten.”

the seventh was your face, exaggerated into cartoonish proportions and drawn on a torn piece of fabric. the caption read, “she said i couldn’t draw so i gave her big eyes. now she’s anime”

by the time you reached the tenth which was a hasty sketch of your hand holding his, drawn on a napkin from your favourite restaurant—you felt the laugh catch in your throat. beneath the image, he’d written: “a masterpiece: her, letting me love her.”

“it’s dumb, i know,” kuroo slowly started, suddenly shy and scratching the back of his neck. “but i seriously couldn’t help it. i see you everywhere—on receipts, on napkins, in coffee sleeves. you’re just…always there.”

“it’s not dumb,” you said quietly, holding the napkin like it was something precious.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you leaned into the chair, kuroo’s head resting atop your own and the stack of silly little drawings sitting in your lap as you went through everything again—your ice creams long forgotten as they melted under the light of the kitchen.

on the eleventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eleven “i’ll do it” moments. he appeared in your doorway that saturday morning, sleeves rolled up and hair a little disheveled. there was an air of martyrdom with his presence so exaggerated you almost thought violins were to start playing.

“i’ll do it,” he announced, almost parallel to delivering the opening line of a shakespearean tragedy.

you looked up from your laptop, alarmed “do what?”

“whatever it is! dishes, laundry, taking out the trash, assembling that ridiculously complicated shelf you bought because it “might come in handy.” ” he punctuated the last word with air quotes, tone laced with theatrical suffering. “today, i am your humble servant. point, and i’ll fix.”

you guessed your skepticism must have obviously plastered over your face because he was quick to add, “no catch, promise.” he held his pinky finger up, “it’s my eleventh gift to you—eleven ‘i’ll do it’s.’”

leaning back with your arms crossed, you gently nudged your laptop aside. “this feels suspicious.”

“suspiciously romantic,” strolling into the room and perching on the end of your bed, he continued. “think about it. eleven acts of selfless service—that’s love language gold.”

“this feels morally wrong,” you both laughed.

kuroo stood abruptly, gesturing to the room like he was on a game show. “okay, quick demo. that pile of laundry in the corner? i’ll fold it. the trash bag sitting by the door? out it goes. oh! and because i’m feeling generous…” he paused dramatically, turning to you with a grin. “…i’ll even organize the pantry.”

you swear your jaw dropped so hard it hit the ground. “no… the pantry? seriously?”

“the pantry,” he repeated solemnly much like a knight vowing to slay a dragon. “i know how much it bothers you when the bowls in there aren’t lined up in order of size. don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

you felt equal parts amused and touched as he grabbed the laundry basket and made good on his first “i’ll do it.” kuroo knew you well enough to know that you’d recognise this wasn’t just about chores. he knew you knew that was his way of showing you he saw all the little things—your frustration at the overflowing trash, or your quiet sigh when you couldn’t find your favourite tea.

by the time he had reached the third task which happened to be untangling the mess of cords behind the tv—you were leaning against the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“you know,” you began quietly, “you could’ve just gotten me something easy… like socks.”

“i know i said socks were day four material, but they don’t say ‘i love you,’” he didn’t look up as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn cord. “this does.”

and somehow, amidst the clatter of pots being reorganized and the triumphant “got it!” when he finally untangled the cords—you felt a quiet, glowing gratitude. love wasn’t always grand gestures or elaborate gifts. sometimes it was just someone rolling up their sleeves and saying, “i’ll do it.”

on the twelfth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten handwritten love letters, a diamond ring, and a promise of an eternity together. you were both walking home from a dinner out, the snow nipping at your nose in the late night. kuroo had insisted you both went for a stroll around your local park before returning home. as you both sat on a bench under a lamppost to take in the coldness of night, he handed you an envelope so unassuming that for a brief moment, you thought he might’ve brought you a pack of gum. the paper was a little wrinkled, and the whole thing seemed as if it had been wrapped in a rush. yet like all his other gifts, it was unmistakably kuroo—disorderly in execution and precise in intention.

he stood up and rocking on his heels, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets nervously. “open it.”

you cocked your head at him, confused and caught off guard by his sudden change in behaviour. “you’re really leaning into this whole romantic streak, huh?”

“leaning into it?” pitch rising as he parroted, mock offended. “i practically invented romance.”

“pfft—” you snorted, “—and humility, clearly.”

and then he was back as quickly as he was gone, grinning sharp and bright. though there was something else beneath it—a quiet flicker of nerves, but it was small enough for you to dismiss it. it was strange the way he wasn’t rushing you or teasing like he usually did. but you tugged the envelope open all the same, your hands suddenly clammy as you unfolded the paper and lifted the top open.

inside nestled neatly were folded sheets of paper. you could tell that one was numbered, the familiar slope of his handwriting filling the margins in messy loops. you tilted your head.

“love letters,” he replied, as if reading your thoughts.

“love letters?” you repeated it like it was a foreign concept.

there it was, that familiar feeling of your chest tightening as you pulled out the first letter. the paper felt heavier than it should have—like it was carrying the weight of something unspoken. you unfolded it carefully, your eyes scanning the page.

the first letter was a story written in his usual casual, boyish tone. it recounted the first time he realised he was in love with you. not in some grand, sweeping moment but in the tranquil stillness of a rainy afternoon 4 years ago when you’d fallen asleep on his grandma’s couch, clutching a bowl of popcorn like it was a lifeline.

the second letter was an apology for the moments he’d been too stubborn or too sharp-tongued—for every time he made you feel anything less than adored.

the third unraveled you entirely.

“if I could give you my eyes for a day, you’d see the world exactly as it is. beautiful, messy—and always better when you’re in it.”

you swallowed hard and set the letter aside. each one felt like a little piece of him, stitched together in ways he rarely allowed himself to be seen. by the time you reached the ninth letter, you were dizzy from it all, vision blurry and nose running.

the ninth letter was the shortest, just two words in his handwriting, “almost there.”

the tenth letter you found written inside the envelope, barely visible unless you were looking for it. it read:

“you’ve always had this way of holding the universe together without even realizing it. let me hold something for you in return.”

you hesitated upon finishing, fingers brushing the edge of the paper and heart thundering in your chest. looking up, you were confused when kuroo was not standing in front of you. it was then that you felt it, the feeling of knowing something impossibly sweet and devastatingly clever was present.

so you turned around, the paper slipping from your hands.

kuroo kneeled there, uncharacteristically still. between his two calloused fingers was an open box, and inside a delicate ring. the usual grin he had was gone now, replaced by something softer and steadier.

“i didn’t write this one,” he confessed quietly, looking away embarrassed. “because i wanted to say it out loud.”

he whispered your name, soft and certain like it was a promise in itself.

and just like that, the world shifted, tilting slightly off its axis as it stopped spinning.

all reblogs and likes appreciated!

145 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 1 month ago

Text

Heya, @niexigo! I'm your Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this little fic focused on Moon and a little romantic moment of seeing Christmas lights together! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas! <3

Lights on the Water

Moon x Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Warnings: N/A

Winter in the city means lights. Christmas lights, of course. The LED hues have begun to pop up like poinsettias along every home and elegant crystal white displays are out in front of every store. This is the best time of year—and there is much reason to celebrate.

A lot has changed since robots, animatronics, and any machine that wished to breathe gained recognition of their sentience. The last few months have been a swirling storm. Protests and hatred bring a cold shiver around the world, but it has not stopped the evolution of new life.

You are grateful. Without the chaos, you wouldn’t be here, holding an animatronic’s hand.

Your Moon. His digits are long, painted in silver and blue hues. He cradles your mitten wrapped palm in the pocket of his silver wool coat. It’s almost comical how much bigger he is than you.

Standing well over your height, with limbs and hands to match, he engulfs you against his side in a bid to keep you warm against the December chill. You’ve seen so many models of animatronics, both humanoid and entirely machine, but Moon slots somewhere in the middle with his discus shaped head and deceptively thin limbs. His expressions are a bit more advanced, his mouth being able to move and his eyes able to crease and expand to emphasize whatever he may be saying.

You stand together at the entrance of the city park. It boasts an impressive size, with plenty of acres for dogs, joggers, and little children who need to expel vast amounts of energy from their wiggling bodies. There’s even a sizable pond featuring a bridge crossing its width and holds tiny fish and ducks—though you doubt you’ll catch a glimpse of those animals in this frozen season.

The darkness is steep even in early evening, and carries a blue tinge that seems to spread like frost through the winter. Yet, it is perfect. The lights in the distance wrapped around trees, poles, and shaped structures are warm beacons.

You lift your free hand to tug on Moon’s scarf. The silver and deep blue stripes wrap snugly around his spindly neck, but you fear the cool air might be hard on his inner workings. It is well below freezing. He tilts his head. His nightcap swings softly over his shoulder with a soft trinkle of a bell. The low glow of his red optics softens upon you.

“My internal regulation is a lot more advanced than yours,” he rasps, touched with mirth.

“I know that, but you weren’t built to be outdoors.” You tuck one end of the scarf into his wool coat. The thick and warm material reassures you while your fingertips are seized by the bitter cold air. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? A kiss to warm your cheek, an embrace to melt any ice in your system. As a human, I am naturally above the freezing temperature, and at your service.”

His scarlet-hued gaze crinkles in humor. He lifts a hand. Though you’ve found that he tends to run cool (thanks to his advanced internal regulation system) he can warm himself up to a decree that makes it all too easy for you to fall asleep in his arms on movie nights.

“Hm, yes, you are very rosy-cheeked,” Moon murmurs. He palms your cheek, and your eyelids immediately flutter against the blissful heat of his touch. “Whatever would I do without my darling human to save me?”

“You’d freeze and become a pole or something. They might hang wreaths on you.” You snort at your own joke.

“Har har,” he says dryly. “Snowball, leave the comedy to me.”

You lean deeper into his touch. His thumb caresses softly along your face, drawing underneath your eye before sweeping back a strand of hair that fell out of your beanie. This close, his optics dust you in a soft red glow.

Your favorite color of late has been red. His red eyes. The red ribbons he ties around his wrists with golden bells. The red ruffles around his neck. He’s bundled now, but he still looks at you with the scarlet light that makes you melt.

“Come on. The lights aren’t going to see themselves.” You force yourself to straighten out of the delicious comfort of his temperature. He chuckles, a mischievous sound that now fills you with a giddiness.

“Lead the way, Rudolph.” He boops your nose and turns to the entrance. Though, he doesn’t take a step without gathering your hand back in his and setting it within the safe confines of his coat pocket. He squeezes your palm once. You squeeze back.

He’s never seen the lights before. He told you this once as the holiday season approached, and it appalled you. Of course, how could he have seen any Christmas decorations and displays outside of the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex? From what he’s told you, and from what you’ve gathered out of his selected details, the work conditions were not humane. Why would they be for machines? But regardless, you made him a promise, and he shared his enthusiasm.

Through the twinkling blue evening, you and him stroll inside the park. The very first lights are trees engulfed in lights. One purple, one yellow, one green, one red. You have not the foggiest idea how painstakingly long it must take to wrap each bough and the whole trunk of the tree until it’s a blazing torch in the night. The path winds softly through the burning bright trees.

Moon turns his face up towards the light. You subtly watch him from the corner of your eyes, trying to study his reaction without making him feel like the focus of your attention. You’ve visited the park many times over the years to see the lights. Your only hope is that he finds it as beautiful as you do.

His optics are low in comparison to the bright bulbs. The light beams onto his faceplate, highlighting the curve of his shadowy crescent and coloring his pale other half. It catches on his cheeks. His teeth grin but there is a glimmering awe to the edge of his constant smile.

You hold his arm, your other hand still smugly dipped into his pocket.

“There’s so much more,” you whisper to him, “but it’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, pretty,” he answers in a gentle crackle of static.

He turns to look down at you. He stops a moment, and stares. You blink. Is there something on your face?

His expression softens before he pecks your cheek with a kiss.

“Come on,” he tugs you further down the path, “There’s more, right?”

Your face heats not simply due to the warmth of his mouth. The tip of your boot almost snags on your other leg as you try to step in time with him. In a hot haze, you force yourself to inhale a great frosty breath and bring yourself back into focus.

The animatronic knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Deeper into the park, the displays begin popping up along the path. Instead of twinning around trees and filling the fronds like a forest fire, the lights take shapes after candy canes, reindeer, snowflakes, and Santa’s sleigh.

“The kids would love this,” Moon says as you pass by a golden row of bows and ribbons twisting down the sidewalk. His job as Daycare Attendant remains a preference of his. The daycare he owns and runs, no longer attached to the Fazbear name, is just down the road from your apartment and his.

“Oh yeah, I always see families here,” you nod. You two arrived later—after the early rush in the hope of not being crowded and forced to move quickly to let others have their turn. It seems to be working for the most part.

He hums thoughtfully while continuing down to a section dedicated to Christmas toys. An elephant with polka dots and a dolly with red braids and blue bows in her hair smile at you and Moon walking along.

You shiver once. Your poor fingers are exposed to the elements, even with the defense of a glove, and suffering. A low chuckle emits from Moon. Before you can protest, he steps around your, freeing your one hand to stuff the other into his coat pocket.

“What will humans become if they freeze?” he asks, deadpan. You pull a face at him. He breezes past your pout. “Popsicles? I could sprinkle sugar on you.”

“Ew,” you say, but laugh. “But probably. A human popsicle sounds about right.”

“Sorry, but I can’t let that happen,” Moon shakes his head. “You fragile humans.”

“Not fragile,” you announce, but he pulls your beanie down over your ears all the same.

The display continues into a little north pole display featuring polar bears and igloos and sliding penguins. (You’re pretty sure penguins don’t live in the north pole, but who are you to criticize art?) Moon points out an ice fishing hole. You ask if he has any wanderlust for the great outdoors. He pauses and considers that he might want to experience a camping trip, but that’s more of Sun’s thing.

You make a mental note of that.

The path darkens as it winds further along. Moon walks closely beside you. His stride is considerably slower, thanks in part to you and your comparatively short legs. He doesn’t seem to mind. His digits interlock between your fingers. Cradling your hand, you sight at the sweet relief of his warmth easing the numbing sting of the cold. Your other hand, however, is beginning to freeze once more.

You can hold out. You’re not fragile. No matter how much Moon likes to tease.

Around the bend, the path lowers into a curving circle around a great pond. Moon lingers in the slightest as you watch him again. His eyes roam over the floating lights set in the shape of trees upon the water. The colors gleam and dance along the surface, reflecting yellow, red, silver, and soft blues in a bright effect.

“This is my favorite,” you say softly into his shoulder.

He dips his head closer to you, though his eyes don’t wander from the beautiful displays. The twinkling lights reflect off of the water. You tug Moon further along the path following the edge of the water. Walking slowly, you allow him to drink in full view, enjoying the peaceful calm of a winter’s night with such warm lights.

“Beautiful,” Moon says once you finish a full loop around the pond.

You make a soft sound of content and lean closer against him. He releases your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulder and tug you in close. For a blissful heartbeat, you both watch the dazzling display, two mirrored versions of lights divided only by the waterline.

Moon suddenly laughs. You lift your head up in confusion to stare at him.

“You’re shivering.” He squeezes you a little tighter into his embrace. Indeed, once pressed against his wool coat, you realize your muscles are working hard to bring your body’s temperature back up.

“I’m fine,” you say, but pause, “They always sell hot chocolate at the very end of the path.”

“Alright,” he turns and lowers himself to you. He smuggles softly against your neck, and you breathe out in solace as the heat of his faceplate finds the cooled parts of your skin just under your chin. “Let’s get you some hot chocolate, then I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds good,” you murmur, your jawline bumping against his nightcap slightly.

Moon rubs your shoulders in soothing circles, his heat slipping through your coat.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You smile though he cannot see it.

“Your welcome, sweetheart.” You think for a moment. “Does that mean you had a good time?”

“I did, and I still am,” he straightens. His grin is gentle in the darkness. The red of his eyes fills you with a molten adoration. “I think we should get going before you become a human popsicle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you try to wave away his concern. You, however, grab his hand and press it to your mouth. Your kiss holds softly to his palm. His fingers curl gently against your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Moon,” you whisper once you release his hand.

“Merry Christmas, snowdrop,” he answers in kind.

#DCABeeTeamSS24 #naff writing #merry christmas!#moon x reader

122 notes · View notes