#my socks when i watched before i saw this post

[coridallasmultipass]

Finally knitted Halloween socks that I've been meaning to knit since I bought this yarn last year!

The yarn is from "SavannahRoseHandmade" from the 90s Halloween Collection (sold out now UGH [understandable, but UGH]) and is visually inspired by the movie Scream (1996). I saw the colour pooling effect on their sample swatch when they shared the yarn collection images on Reddit last year, and was immediately like, 'Holy shit it's just like CRT TV static!!' And I had to get it. (And then life happened and I didn't get around to knitting them until now lol).

And unfortunately, I'm SO IN LOVE WITH IT!! THE EFFECT DID TRANSLATE TO SOCKS AND NOW IT'S LIKE, AHHH I NEED MORE. I don't know if I have enough yarn left to make an additional pair, so I'll have to figure out how to weigh it and the socks and see if the weight compares (really don't wanna end up with 3 socks and not enough for the 4th lol). But yeah. I'm so glad I got to do this. The yarn colouration was SO fun to work with, and the yarn was a nice and smooth 1-ply which was a huge relief from the fluffy yarn on the socks I'd been working on just before this. And yes, I did intentionally take this photo in front of those books because of the spiral-ish pooling.

Can I just also... like... holy fuck, man. I LOVE when yarn pools into unique patterns. It's the best phenomenon ever. And especially like for this one being black and white? That subtle grey transition from stark white to pitch black is EVERYTHING. Like I never would have thought one could create yarn that would pool EXACTLY like TV static rolling down the screen when knit. Major nostalgia vibes. I can feel the forcefield.

Also, started these babies September 27 and finished the second sock today October 3rd, which may be a new record for me knitting socks, I was so fucking excited. I even have a big ole 'writers bump' on my finger from the way I hold my knitting needles lmao (was also knitting a different pair of socks before this, too), and my arthritis is Not happy, but screw you, arthritis! I'M HAPPY.

Side note: it would be cool to pair this yarn with like a red addition somehow. Get a Saw vibe going bc of the TV static pooling effect. (I do love Scream though.) Or you could even probably take it a The Ring route with like a fly applique or something. So many horror movie staples with TV static effect, and not enough Scream yarn to test them out!!

Bonus image when the socks were a WIP:

I had my new tooth and doll eye stitch markers going. I DO have bloody murder weapon stitch markers, but none of them are a buck knife (Ghostface's weapon), so I went for general Halloween vibes instead (even tho I use stitch markers like this year-round lol).

[wifeiy]

hehehehe i love You my summer !!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

u have probably heard/read me say 90% of these yet I still ran out of tags SOMEHOW. one of tehse days we will be together when it rains and Won't that be lovely day. also ride your wave + maquia + eeaao + your name (idk y). Ok i willstop rhere fr. see u in like 10 hours. HEH.

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

COLORS, SONGS, AESTHETICS, PEOPLE, ANYTHTING

[youreyeson1y]

˗ˏˋ fuzzy ‎ socks and ‎ ‎ ‎ warm ‎ ‎covers ‎ ‎✶ˎˊ˗

pairing: bang chan x gn! reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw: tooth rotting domestic fluff, est. relationship + try not to cringe because love is ew :(‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ note: is this all because of the selcas chan shared? yes, yes it is. (also wanted to post something before I go on hiatus cause of exams lol) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ word count: ‎ ‎0.96k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ enjoy ! ‎ ‎ bang chan masterlist.

snuggled under three layers of blankets on the couch, you felt perfectly content.

your hands absentmindedly fiddled with the empty cup in your lap, the faint warmth from your drink still clinging to it. a quiet smile played on your lips face as you watched chan throw his hands up dramatically, fully immersed in the story.

“and the host was so shocked when hyunjin started doing that move in the middle of the stage, because who knew there’s another song called sticky?”

“wait,” you cackled, already excited for the clips to emerge. “so you’re telling me that he danced to kiss of life’s sticky in the reality show? damn, can’t believe i missed that.”

chan laughs, the sound filling the room with warmth. a movie was playing on the tv, but you found your boyfriend’s endless stories more entertaining.

sitting on the plush carpet in front of you, chan was wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants, while you had more layers on than you could count. the room became quiet for a moment, but the hairs on your arms stood up as you saw a mischievous smirk appear on chan’s face.

“no, nope,” you warned him as he stood up, a playful sparkle in his eyes, and you instinctively pull the blankets tighter around yourself. “don’t you dare, christopher bahng.”

“don’t be so mean, ” he pouts, his knees on either side of yours. “do you want your boyfriend to freeze to death out here?”

“well, there’s always the option for sweaters and jackets… or even a tshirt;” you mumble, your face growing red as your boyfriend’s nose touches yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

he gently takes the cup from your hands and places it on the centre table without breaking eye contact, putting you in a trance. as you let your guard down and lean in for a gentle kiss, you jump in your seat with a yelp as his freezing fingers touches your waist under the covers.

the cold sensation sends chills down your spine as you shiver, goosebumps covering your body.

“christopher,” you whine, finally giving a reaction as he melts into your body. “i hate you.” you shiver as he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a chilly but warm embrace as he settles under the covers.

despite yourself, you lean into his embrace instinctively.

“i love you too,” he giggles, dimples on full display, as he hugs you tighter. “and why would i need a sweater when i have you to warm me up just as fine?”

you blush, whatever resolve you had melting away.

“whatever,” chan chuckled as he saw you half heartedly roll your eyes. “i’m wearing the socks you gave me, so i guess you might as well warm up your toes too.” you looked at anything but him in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

his laugh made you feel warmer than the blankets ever could.

chan shifted, tucking himself into your side as you both shifted into a more comfortable position. his legs intertwined with yours, rubbing over your fuzzy socks. his arms wrapped around your waist, adding a comforting weight.

the room grew silent, the only sound being your steady breathing and the soft voice coming from the television.

“oy,” you nudge him after making sure he wasn't asleep. “what happens next?”

“huh? next to what?”

“i dunno. i just want to hear you yap.”

the way chan’s face immediately became red was almost comical. he tried hiding his face in the crook of your neck, making him seem more adorable.

“stop…” he whined, his demeanor changing from his usual cool charm to a fumbling mess.

“what? i just love listening to my boyfriend yap, is that a crime?”

“i mean,” his voice came out small. “i’ve been boring you with my stories all evening today. aren't you sick of hearing my voice already?”

he tried to laugh it off, but let out a shriek as you playfully swatted his arm.

“hey!” you pinched his arm for extra emphasis. “don't ever say that okay? listening to you talk is literally the favourite part of my day.”

“you're just saying that,” chan huffed, hugging you tighter in an attempt to hide his flushed face.

“no, bubba, it's true. i love hearing your voice and i love how you literally light up when you talk about something you find funny or are looking forward to.

plus, it's funny seeing you get worked up over the silliest things sometimes; like that one time jeongin told you your beanie didn't go with your outfit.”

if it was possible to fall even more in love with your boyfriend, it was in this moment, watching him completely melt at your words.

“you remember that?” he whispered. it was so endearing seeing him turn into an adorable mess in front of you.

“of course, i remember that! i remember everything you tell me. and that's cause i’m genuinely invested in all your stories.” you grin.

“you're like my personal podcast. and the best part is i get to keep you all to myself.”

chan adorably wriggled his whole body with shyness, unable to handle the attention. you laughed, reaching out to hold his hands which were covering his face.

“have i told you how much i love you today?” he finally said as he peeked from between his fingers.

“well, not enough.” you tease, and he leans in for a kiss.

he didn't need to tell you how much he loved you, because you felt it in the way the biting cold outside faded into insignificance. it wasn’t the fuzzy socks or the layers of blankets keeping you warm, but rather the undeniable warmth of his love wrapping around you.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

a/n: sappy ending yes but it's currently 1:25AM and it's the best i can do rn rahh (also was this fic just me promoting the propaganda that chan is the biggest yapper ever (chan's room, bubble, yt live hello???) maybe. but was this 100% because i am a professional listener and could listen to him yap all day every day? yes.

please reblog and leave comments, they truly mean the world !

bang chan masterlist.

[thebearme]

…petey headcanons? *holds plate out like a starving Victorian child*

Don't worry victorian child, you will be fed.

Petey is ace, particularly greysexual.

Petey has that scary cute cat yawn where they just unhinge their jaw then belp :P

He has shrimp posture sitting and standing, his back is wack.

Not so fun fact, his back is messed up because of his tail being chopped. The tail is connected to the spinal cord after all.

He was a BIG gifted child when he was little, he always wanted praise for his accomplishments. Which made alot of the kids around him hate him, and lead to the whole critter scouts thing.

And after awhile he became the exact opposite, he acted up in school for justified reasons but because his teachers wouldn't care to understand and just punished him. They saw him as a trouble child and the kids thought he was a bad kid, so with the change in perspective Petey started to believe it.

Luckily he had Big Jim growing up, he may have been mean to him at the time but nowadays Petey truly appreciates him and wants to apologize for behavior towards him.

Petey HATES getting sick for many reasons but the main one is that it makes him feel weak. So if Dogman or Lil Petey got sick he'll probably be in a hazmat suit before giving them a box of tissues.

Petey believe it or not, has a fixation on robots. AND I MEAN ALL ROBOTS, he would watch robot movies, have robot pjs, robot posters, robots toys on his shelf, robots anything and everything. I was able to show abit of it in my human Petey design with two of his tattoos (one of them being the robot from the day the earth stood still) and him in a transformer shirt. Why else would he make the most mundane things into robots? Cuz they're COOL!

Speaking of which, Petey fucking cried when he heard Opportunity's last words.

Petey gave up on getting an outside job and went freelance, It's not like the job market was that great anyway.

I imagine Petey, to the surprise to everyone but Dogman, is pretty strong. He may look twiggy, but he is an engineer! You NEED upper body strength to do work. Heres a post I made about it

Petey has a depression shaped pit in is bed. He didn't buy that pit, it's something he earned with hard work and so can you. Lil Petey likes loafing in it.

Petey can easily keep working in his workshop for the whole day without eating or using the bathroom if you don't make him take a break. When he's in the zone he forgets he got a body that has needs and can drop dead if he doesn't fulfill those needs.

Petey knew how to cook from his mom but didn't really start cooking till he got Lil Petey. He just ate takeout EVERYDAY cause he was too busy and depressed to cook, and his butler didn't give af to cook for him if he's just gonna to complain. But of course after getting Lil Petey he wasn't going to fed him takeout! So it went from frozen chicken nuggets and apple sauce to homemade pork stirfry and curry rice.

That care in cooking for others also goes to Dogman as well, neither of them had healthy eating habits so they made a deal to help each other in their journey. Dogman would eventually get told by the doctor that he needs to cut the dogfood cause his human body can digest all of that, so Petey is now cook pack lunches for him as well. And personally meals that taste good for his dog tongue, and Dogman gives him the biggest kisses for that.

I'm currently working on a comic for this next one but Petey feels like has no friends. He never just hanged out with any of the gang just to hangout by themselves. He feels like everyone is close friends with each other but not him, they all hang out around him because they're friends with Dogman. And the only reason they knows so much about him is because he trauma dumps on them. But he'll later learn that they do care about him outside of being close to Dogman and they'll hangout and get to know each other more.

Petey has sensitive beans, particularly to the cold. He's gonna be wearing socks and mittens if there's no heating which is funny cause cats usually hate them.

Petey is actually fluffy but just licks his fur down.

He's tail always is bent and not in a normal way but if you crushed paper and tried to lay it back, it still is bent and slowly goes back to that bent form. The only way to make Petey's tail go completely straight is if you surprise him or made him relax to the ninth degree.

Petey still has cat behavior just like how Dogman has dog behavior but unlike him, Petey controls his behavior. He basically masks everyday because of a whole social class stuff I can't explain rn. Cuz he wants to be taken seriously and not just seen as some house pet.

He once made a throne out of boxes and sat in it till Lil Petey or Dogman came back home. No reason for it, he just wanted to feel like a king.

Petey loves midday naps but the sun cuz he's a cat and old. It's true that you'll need more midday naps when you're older.

If I had to give a inuniverse reason for how he understands sign language it's because Petey learned from his mom. When Petey was younger and had a moment where he mad and overwhelmed he would have a hard time explaining his thoughts. Grace taught him sign language so he can explain his thoughts even if all he can verbally do is scream.

When Grace died, Petey was put into adoption and stayed there for a while because of his age and his behavioral problems. But he eventually got adopted by Dr Dilbert Dinkles, he was perfect for his needs, not a child so he won't cry, a cat can take care of themselves and behaving poorly is exactly what villains in training need to be bad. So Petey got adopted by the worst person possible and we know how the rest of the story goes.

Despite that fact that Dilbert is a doctor, Petey had the upper hand on him. He has street smarts, and when you know to build robots and know to use the robots to their full evil potential then you become a true villain to fear.

Petey and Flippy could very well be friends but Petey is literally just holding a grudge against him for some reason? Seriously idk why they're not friends, I think Flippy wants to be friends with him too but it just Petey that's in the way of that in canon. Like- please stop being an ahole for a second and just talk!

Petey also try his hand at gardening... Dogman keeps rolling on his flowers.

And that pretty much all the headcanons I can think of, I still do have my visual hc but yall always know it

heres a lil collage I made from my petey moodboard

And you already know the playlist

[mintmatcha]

so part of the reason he doesn't remember her is because it was such a shitty time at home and he was shutting down he's not just a fuckboy he's a TRAUMATISED fuckboy

If you were smart, you would have cleaned the place of every trace of you, but instead, you're forced to watch him pad through your belongings. Sero, the Sero, dreamboat Sero, is walking his fingers across the shelves in your living room, inspecting the rowing of manga. Sometimes, he hums, like he recognizes something. Other times, he stops on the figurines and pretends to shake their tiny hands in a horribly charming manner.

There's been boys in your apartment before. Well, a boy.

This is different. Sero is different.

He keeps looking back at you with these eyes, these damn eyes that you just can't resist, gently lidded with a smile that feels like it's just for you-

Liking him is stupid. You know that. Boys like him date pretty girls, thin girls, normal girls, better girls-

You adjust your clothes, pulling at the hem until you hear a definite pop. It's the exact outfit you saw on a pretty girl on tiktok, bought with three weeks of allowance, but it feel wrong and cheap against your skin. Wool over a wolf's body, poorly trying to disguise you as something you aren't.

Sero is effortlessly cool. His clothes are loose in they way that still makes him look lean and put together and purposely mismatched. Even his socks are different colors, one white, one black-

"You have a fun place, Cram School." Sero gives you a big smile. He calls you affectionately, since he claims to miss you when you're there. "You really like magical girls, don't you?"

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt more, tugging at the loose threads.

"...Yeah."

He waits a bit to see if you've got more to say, then turns back to your things. He's always attentive with you, even when Kirishima's other friends aren't.

"You totally wanted to be a hero as a kid, didn't you?" His teasing is light and your chest feels the same. "Like this guy?"

Technically, the figure he picks up isn't a hero, but you don't point that out. His warmth is melting you and you swear every atom in your body is slowly buzzing faster and faster.

"No, my quirk isn't good. I could never be a hero. I just..." You trip over your words because you know it's pathetic to admit. You adjust your glasses as you speak, sliding them up and down nervously. "They're sweet, and, and friendly. D-don't you ever wish you could transform into someone else for a little bit?"

There's another pause and you're forced to look directly at him. Your glasses slide down on their own.

"That was so cringe," you whisper.

His shrugs with one shoulder, scuffing his socks against the carpet. "Yeah. I do. Sometimes."

Sero sniffs, then hooks a thumb towards the television. "Do you wanna watch one?"

"A-a show?" you scoff at yourself. "You don't have to do that."

"You're so mean to yourself, Cram School. " Sero laughs. "I want to."

-

He asks questions the first episode. Good ones too. He posts to a character and whispers that it must be your favorite, since he saw the posters of her. Heat from his breath tickles your neck and that helium feeling in your chest just gets tighter.

The third episode, he slings and arm around your shoulders. You had been frozen tall, knees together with hands tucked into your lap, but then he drew you in, right into his collarbone. His elbows are sharp, but you don't mind. Not at all.

You debate touching him back, but your hands stay locked on the hem of your shirt.

When the credits roll, he turns to look at you, face so close to the side of yours that you can feel his nose bump against the wire frame of your glasses.

"Hey."

He whispers it as his hand finds your thigh.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He waits a minute, held by your indecisiveness. His skin is acne bitten under his bangs, the pad of fat under his eyes puffs when he smiles.

This isn't a cruel joke, is it? Or some dream you'll wake up from? This is real, painfully real, something that no one can take away from you-

"Okay?"

No one will ever believe that you have a boy in your apartment, one that wants to kiss you despite the glasses and everything else undesirable about you.

Sero whispers you name. Not Cram School, but your name.

You gather up the willpower to squeak out an: "Okay."

And then he does. Lips are dryer than you thought they'd be, but the gentle pull of skin against skin enough to steal your breath away. His own breath quivers with a sigh; he must be able to tell it's your first time, because he goes purposefully slow, moving his mouth slightly more and more open until you match his movements.

When his tongue slips into your mouth, it tastes like the peach tea he's left on your countertops.

For once, you don't want to be anyone else.

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ domestic diaries

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: I saw this gif (top right image) & wrote a post about nanami getting turned on seeing his wife in an itty bitty tank, and I cannot get this out of my head. I need this man to **** ** until I'm ******* and ******. this is very self indulgent. forgive me lskjfd

ೃ⁀➷ tags: smut; masturbation; oral (f receiving); nipple play; p in v; rough sex; reader wears glasses

feb 3 - 8:31 pm

"look at how wet you are-" nanami exhales, a strand of gold kissing his forehead. the muscles of his strong stomach flexing when he unfastens the last button of his shirt. he pulls the fabric over his broad shoulders, taking in your hungry eyes roaming all over his body. rough hands instantly trail to the belt cinched around his waist. you whimper when he loosens the buckle, your fingers circle over your clit just a little faster as you watch him yank the leather band out from between the loops.

"n' you're hard..." you softly pant, licking your lips which only continues to exacerbate your husband’s madness to have you.

he palms over the prominent tent that's formed against his slacks, his length stiff from the sight of coming home to you earlier. you were innocently standing in the kitchen, wearing your black thigh high socks and a pair of shorts along with an itty bitty tank top that did nothing to cover you. midriff out, nipples prominent. your hair a mess, and your glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of your nose.

it was in that moment when the realization struck nanami. when he pondered when was the last time he taken you to bed. both of your schedules have been busy. neither of you have been in the mood for making love, too worn out from the stresses of every day life.

so, his reaction towards you shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. he just wished that he noted the dry spill that's hit your relationship a little bit earlier.

"hi, baby", you sweetly greeted with a smile, as he stood there dumfounded with admiration. "you're home late, I was worried you might miss dinner-"

nanami loosened his tie, swallowing the hard lump that formed in his throat as his skin scorched with heat. he can feel it prick the tips of his ears, singe the the highest parts of his prominent cheek bones, and burn it's way down his neck. he stalked towards you before you allowed yourself to get distracted, and circled his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

you were taken aback by the urgency, but you soon melted in his arms and found yourselves in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

nanami smiles - an angelic grin, full of reverie. you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from pathetically moaning at the gesture.

your husband doesn't make it easier by treating his exceptionally attractive self with such nonchalance. so completely clueless by the power he has over you.

he boldly stares at you, eyes falling to the peaks of your breasts, the tips furiously prominent against your tank top and begging for attention. he followed the path down the lower half your naked body, to the triangle between your legs where you were fingering yourself in anticipation. half your legs were still concealed by your thigh high socks, your glasses slowly falling down your nose.

he drops his shirt to the ground, bringing those fingers to push back that infuriating rogue strand of hair that carelessly fell. he cups your knees, his thumbs stroking your socks lovingly as he nestles himself between your legs. his jaw twitches when you spread your lips for him, your arousal strings of sweet sugar. nanami leans forward to peck you tenderly at the source of your desire, and the sound that travels out of your throat is so desperate he nearly cums on the spot.

"shit-" you curse, your hands moving to rest on your lower belly so nanami can touch you as he pleases.

he uses to fingers to spread the petals once again, before placing his tongue flat to broadly stroke up your slit. his eyes flutter close and the drawl of his hum is deep, sending a shiver up your belly. you bring one hand to the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp lightly as you keep the strands from falling over.

"haven't tasted you in a while, my love," nanami sighs. his hot, heavy breath fanning your cunt.

he dives in with no mercy, making your hips buck into his face while he fucks you with his mouth. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking on the bud and flicking his tongue back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth...your fingers dig into his scalp, your upper body nearly off the mattress as you hold him close. when nanami slides two fingers in to stretch you out, your eyes simply vanish to the back of your head. you're so soaked by the time you orgasm, tremors shaking your clenched thighs that nearly squeezed your husband's head.

you taste yourself on your tongue when he kisses you. it's sloppy, wet. completely primal. nanami only stops to remove his slacks, rbefore eadjusting your position when he climbs on the bed.

"take your glasses off," he commands, and you oblige as you place them by your side.

he flips you over, lifting your hips and creating a lovely slope on your spine. his hands graze over the socks pinching the meat of your thighs, and he widens your stance before aligning the heavy tip of his cock to your entrance.

your words are reduced to vowels, and when your husband gradually pushes himself against your folds, you release a long cry as you grip onto the sheets for support.

"oh fuck,-" nanami purrs, before pulling back and rutting deep into you. "uh-you feel s'good, s'warm..."

"kento-" your whine out his name pornographically, which makes your husband thrust into you even harder, "kento, more...please, please, please-ah~"

your tank top rides up as your body rubs against the mattress, your sensitive nipples brushing over your cool bed sheets. he's usually so gentle when fucking you, calculative even - but not tonight. tonight, his movements are unrelenting. whenever that mushroom head hits your sweet spot it has you seeing a cluster of white stars in your eyes. the sound of skin slapping skin echoes all around you, with nanami's grunts following in harmony. he's rough when he holds your hips because he's unable to hold onto any self control, because you're sucking him in, and milking his cock.

you anticipate the soreness to come.

when you orgasm a second time, tears prick your eyes from relief - it's been so long since you've had your husband inside you that you forgot how pliable you become in the process. he's so close now too, his flow staggering as his hipsstutter, until he finally releases his full load inside you.

it takes you both a few minutes to gather yourself. you can feel your husband grow soft inside you. you turn around to face him when you finally detach. sitting upright on your knees as you circle your arms around your neck, and bring your face in front of his.

you moan into a kiss, his own hands cupping your breasts chastely, his thumbs swiping over your pebbled nipples.

he rubs his nose over yours, his lips finding your cheeks as he kisses you. "you okay, my love?" he asks, always the gentleman for checking in. "m'sorry if I was rough, I..." he sighs, stealing another kiss from your lips before whispering, "I didn't realize how long it's been..."

you sniffle, your body coming down from the rushed high. "m'okay, kento..." you dreamily reassure, your lips seeking his own for another kiss, "that felt so good..."

"yeah?" he smiles before nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and tracing that dangerous mouth down the curve of your neck. "felt good for me too, baby..."

you're like sand between his fingers, slipping through the cracks of lust and love. nanami leaves a trail of kisses down your collar bone, moving further until his lips circle over the tip of your breast.

you hiss when he sucks on it, using his hand to cup the weight. the sensation of his thumb makes you pulse between your legs, and you gaze down to watch him slowly pull away to release the bud. his eyes stay fixated on your chest, a small string of saliva connecting from your nipple to his bottom lip. he uses his thumb to wipe it away, stroking the hardened peak.

"want to keep going?" he speaks in a hushed tone, lifting his head up and resting his chin against your chest to gauge your mood.

"yeah," you sigh, wanting nothing more to ride along this intimate dance until your bodies can no longer keep up. "yeah, let's keep going..."

[writing-with-moss]

Saw your post, and thought: why not?

Ok ok, imagine reader is a sleeper, and they like to sleep in most mornings. But one day they decided to wake up in the devil hours of the day and bake apple pie, waking up the 141 and they're generally concerned about reader's sleep schedule and health lmao.

If you understand what I mean.

thank you anon! I really appreciate the ask. My inbox had been really funky these last few days so I'm sorry it took so long!

Poly!TF141 x F!reader

TW/CW- mentions of anxiety and pregnancy, reader wears glasses and is called American, but nothing more than pure fluff!

It was dark when your eyes fluttered open. The warmth of the bed almost pulls you back to sleep. But you manage to get your eyes to stop drooping, your body lazily rolling over and glancing up at the clock.

3:20 a.m

You groan, might as well get up and start the day. So you sit up and swing yourself off the warm covers, leaving your comfy safehaven to maneuver through the dark room. Your hip brushes against a bookshelf and your hands enclose around your pair of glasses.

Finally able to see, you stumble into the kitchen, stretching out with a hum of pleasure, shivers running your spine. The gentle lamp light of the kitchen and the rumble in your stomach kept your socked feet moving along.

You settle on a book, wide open to a certain page. Apple Pie. Warm saliva filled your mouth at the thought of what you had been craving for weeks now. It had been so intense your boyfriends thought you might've been pregnant.

You open up the cupboards and drag out a few bowls, cutting up a few apples.

You must've been too loud because you were halfway into pouring the filling when a large form fills the doorway.

"Wha' da 'ell ya doin' Bonnie?" A sleepy Scottish man grumbles, stumbling towards you in just his boxers. "Cant feckin' sleep with so much bloody ruckus-"

He pauses at your baking, raising a brow. You turn and give a weak smile. "Sorry....Didn't mean to."

"Wha' da 'ell are you makin'?" A rougher voice came from the doorway, a man in matching black sweats stood behind Soap, tilting his head to watch you work.

"Apple Pie." You curtly answered, smiling as you hummed along, popping the dish into the oven.

"Yer so feckin' American." Soap wraps his arms warmly around your waist as he pecks a few kisses to your jaw. His stubble brushing against your cheek, causing a giggle to bubble in your chest. Ghosts warm hand landing on the back of your head to scratch at your scalp before gently tugging at Soaps Mohawk.

Johnny sticks his tongue out at him, before smiling. Ghost responding roughly. "Yer hair makes ya look like a fecking rooster."

Before he could reply, another man walked in.

"American apple pie huh?" Price came in with an almost concerned expression, pouring a mug of steaming coffee. "Yer up early baby. Somethin' goin' on?"

You shake your head. "Don't think so. Just had some cravings and got up early." Soap buries his head a bit deeper into your shoulder as he chuckles.

"You sure you ain't pregnant?" You elbow his side and he laughs, pulling back with a grin. Hopping onto the counter.

"I am not!" Ghost side eyes you and you huff, laughing. "Trust me, I would know. I already took a test. I. Am. Not. Pregnant."

"What about pregnancy- Oh is that apple pie?" Gaz suddenly pops into the kitchen, scratching his chin. "You okay babe? You're up really early."

"Yeah, I just woke up weirdly early. I dunno."

Price tilts his head, wrapping his arm around Gaz' shoulder as they cuddle up. "You anxious?"

"Maybe? I think I'll be okay." You respond, sighing as you cross your arms over your chest. Ghost gently pulls you a bit closer, enveloping you in warmth.

"We're always here for ya. Our sweet girl." He pecks a firm kiss to your forehead and they all nod.

Soap grins slightly. "But are you sure you aren't?-" You throw your towel at him before he can finish.

(Hopefully this is good enough! Thanks for the ask Anon! Requests are open!)

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒋𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔

so, I saw something similar on tiktok and wanted to write it, credits to the person who came up with it.

summary - being a new member of the largest superhero team, you'd think that things would go well, but everything is revealed when christmas rolls around.

warning - angst.

the gif and header I use isn't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

It was rare for the two teams to merge, but every December around Christmas time they would, and with you being the newest member of the Avenger gang. This would be your first-time celebrating Christmas altogether. You watched curiously as they all hung large socks along the fireplace, happy chatter filling the air. “What are those?” You tilt your head.

“Stockings.” You look at Natasha as she replies, “It’s a Christmas tradition where you put small presents inside the stockings of those you care for.” You nod, and your eyes light up. 

“Oh cool!” For the rest of the day you intently listen and observe to pick out the perfect things for them, and over the course of the next few weeks. You slowly begin to fill their stockings, your eyes would fall to yours and notice how empty it looked. But you had hope, there were still a few more days till Christmas and maybe they just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Except Steve walks in and you notice his hands are full, and how he puts a gift for everyone but you. It was as if you were invisible because he didn’t even look at you. “Oh…” 

You continue to splurge and buy everyone things they like, in hopes that you were wrong about them. You skip out of your room on the big day, excited for your first Christmas. When you enter the room, you notice everyone going to their stockings before their presents and expressing happiness with the items they received and with your own excitement, you head over to your stocking and it feels as though the world has stopped. Your stocking was still empty, you finally realised you really meant nothing to the team. You didn’t blame the X-men for not putting anything in because you had only just met them, but your own team? It hurt, you could feel the tears beginning to brim. 

You quickly blink them away before sitting down next to Jean and give her a soft smile, making sure to keep your emotions away from your face and thoughts. “How are you liking it here?” You gnaw on your bottom lip, turning your gaze to your team handing out their presents. 

“I don’t mind it, how about you? I heard this is your first Christmas?” You could see the questions lingering in her eyes, because anyone would question how you could never have a Christmas, but she never completely asks. 

You nod, “Yes, yes. It’s my first and I don’t know… It’s not what I thought it would be.” You stare off, not receiving any presents alongside the stocking. “I’m uh… I’m just going to go for a walk, I don’t feel so good.” You force a smile and get up, heading outside before you could break down in front of everyone. Once you head outside, you break down. You felt like you’d rather be back where you came from. At least your enemies didn’t forget about you. 

“They are all jerks.” You jump as you hear a gruff voice from behide you, you turn, locking eyes with the one and only Wolverine, a cigar between his lips and his eyes harshly set on you. “Not much of heroes when they brag about it every two seconds.” He pushes off the wall and moves closer to you, something catching your eye as the moonlight shines on his hand. 

You look and tilt your head, wiping your cheeks roughly, “What’s that?” Your mouth falls open when he pulls up a cute stocking decorated with glitter, filled to the brim with a small wrapped present resting at the top. “It’s so cute! Whoever it’s for is very lucky.” You give a soft smile, knowing no one would ever get you anything.

Logan shakes his head. “It’s for you, sweets. Those guys are arseholes, they don’t deserve someone as sweet as you on their team.” You feel your breath hitch as he growls, “Open it, honey.” He hands you the stocking and present, leaning against the wall and puffing on the cigar as he watches you open everything.

You gasp, “Oh my god! This is so beautiful, thank you!” You look at him with tears in your eyes as you open the present on the top, a small adorable wolf necklace sits inside the box. You move closer, awkwardly wanting to hug him but not knowing if that will cross a line. Logan raises a brow, placing the cigar between his teeth as he opens his arms. You launch forward and wrap your arms around him, not knowing how to express the feelings that are bubbling up inside. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, darlin’, now why don’t you look inside the stocking. I had Jean and the other women help choose what we thought you’d like.” You look shocked, wondering why a team that wasn’t yours would care more for you than the one you are currently in. Logan reaches up and wipes a tear that falls down your cheek, “We take care of our own, Y/n.” 

Your bottom lip juts out as it wobbles, and you slowly reach inside, sobs escape you as you find everything you like and some new things you’ve wanted to try. “Oh my god…” You feel like you are loved and wanted, but then an overbearing sadness erupts throughout you as you realise that you are stuck with people who don’t want you. 

“That is not true, Miss L/n.” You turn and notice the whole X-men team are there, giving you soft smiles. “I have ordered for your things to be transferred. As Logan said, we take care of our own and you, Miss L/n are one of us.” 

All you could utter are the words thank you. Maybe your first Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[schmidtkisser]

Showering Together

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: mike joins you in the shower after you both had a long day

content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person point of view, mike is very touch starved, he struggles with his self esteem but is reassured by your love for him, comfort/fluff (and lots of it), love language: physical touch, you’re both naked obviously but nothing explicit happens

a/n: as mentioned above, fic is strictly comfort/fluff! might be suggestive, but it does not mention genitalia nor is it sexual in nature. also, first time posting here, hi :-)

★彡★彡★彡

Small wisps of steam fill the atmosphere, accompanied by sound of the water pattering against the tiled floor. Your shoulders roll back, relaxing as you feel the smooth rush of water flow over your back. Your stray thoughts wander freely in your mind, reflecting on the different things you did today.

You let out a soft and content huff, smiling to yourself as you think of Abby, the young girl you babysit routinely. You had just finished up your babysitting duties, having tucked her into bed almost an hour ago. The thought of the fun conversations and adventures you shared with her today were memories you couldn’t help but cherish.

Though, your lingering train of thought was interrupted at the sound of the bathroom door handle creaking at a turn.

You grow concerned, making an automatic assumption that it was Abby behind the door. Is she still awake? Perhaps she needs something? You comb back your wet hair with your fingers, droplets clinging to the tips of the strands before you peek your head out from behind the shower curtains.

“Abby?” You call out, your eyes casting a glance at the door. But instead of a 10 year old girl, you make eye contact with her brother (and your boyfriend), Mike, instead.

“Nope. Just me.” He spoke, inviting himself into the bathroom once he saw your face. He let out an amused huff at your immediate assumption that he was Abby. You notice his tired eyes softening as he looks at you, and it makes your heart flutter.

He quietly shuts the door behind him with the heel of his foot. “You been in here long?”

You shake your head, your fingers gently clutching onto the curtain as you give him a smile. “Wanna join me?”

A small blush dusts his cheeks as he gives you a singular nod in response. He starts to undress himself - jutting his shoulders back to push his jacket sleeves off his arms. He takes a hold of his shirt, clutching onto it to pull over his head. He leans a palm against the door, using the other hand to pull his socks off, and then fidgets with the button of his jeans before tugging them off with his boxers. His bare body would shiver at the cold air, if not for the steam accumulating from the warm water.

You carefully watch his movements, feeling a flutter in your stomach every time he removes an article of clothing. You love everything about him. The way his curls became ever so slightly ruffled when he pulled his shirt off. The look of his body, built - yet soft around the edges. You love how particular he is, even for a chore as simple and mundane as stripping off clothes for a shower.

He lazily tosses his clothes into the laundry hamper, making his way over to the shower to join you. He makes eye contact with you again, taking notice of the fact you watched while he undressed. The thought flusters him slightly, but he doesn’t mind it.

“Were you gawking at me the whole time I was taking my clothes off?” Mike asks, humour in his monotone voice as he carefully steps into the shower. He presses a small kiss against your temple once he was under the water with you.

“I couldn’t help it,” you say, your cheeks reddening upon the realisation that he felt your gaze the entire time. “Not when you’re so attractive.”

The comment makes the corner of his lip curl into a warm smile. In your relationship, looks weren’t important. In fact, it was the one thing that mattered the least. But the fact you found someone like him attractive made his mind buzz - especially since he never had the time or energy to maintain a perfect appearance.

He wishes you knew how much such a little compliment meant to him. “I could say the same thing about you.”

A giggle escapes your lips as he bounces the compliment back at you. A moment of silence fills the air as you gaze into each others’ eyes. His brown puppy eyes never fail to make you swoon.

You reach a hand up to his face, his cheek in your palm whilst your thumb gently traced the outline of the dark circles beneath his eyes. His eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your palm, melting in your touch as small droplets of water trickle down his face. He looks so relaxed, something he rarely feels anymore because of work, finances, and other responsibilities. He wishes he could stay in your hold forever, not having to worry about anything anymore.

“Could you,” he murmurs, gradually opening his eyes once more. The bathroom light is almost blinding, he squints slightly before adjusting his sight to you with half-lidded eyes. He feels a rush of embarrassment run through him as he hesitantly finishes his question. “…Wash my back for me?”

You couldn’t help but grin slightly at his request. Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to wash himself - but the simple ask solidified how much he trusts you, and how comfortable he feels around you. “Of course.”

He averts his gaze from yours, leaning against your palm ever so slightly as he craves more of your touch. You trail your palm down to his shoulders, nudging him gently. Mike nods and faces the shower wall, his back now exposed to you. You take the soap sitting on the shower rack, lathering it between your hands before gently pushing your palms up against his back.

You slide your hands down his skin, carefully brushing past his shoulder blades, the water running over the curves of his back in streams of droplets. You feel the tension in his muscles ease against the mere feeling of your touch.

Your every move was tender and full of love, adoring the shape of your boyfriend. Soap massaged between your hands and his back, washing him thoroughly. You can feel yourself falling deeper in love with him the longer you keep your hands on him.

God, if this isn’t love, you don’t know what is.

You can’t help yourself any longer, moving a little bit closer to him to pepper small kisses up his back, to his shoulder blades, until you reach the nape of his neck. He lets out a soft gasp, melting further into your touch. Your hearts race in sync, and your hands snake around the frame of his body to wash his stomach and chest from behind. Your kisses remain gentle and sweet, your lips exploring the area around his neck as you leave no skin untouched.

The feeling of Mike in your arms, his wet curls against your forehead as you lean against him makes your head feel woozy. He feels the same way. He feels so safe in your grasp, so eased, comfortable, loved. Being so close to you feels like your fragile hearts are going to melt together into one.

Nothing but the rushing sound of the water and your breaths filled the room. Not a single word had been exchanged since you began to wash him. The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it daunting - rather, it was peaceful and calm. Everything feels so, so still.

You repeat this process with his arms and legs too - he didn’t even have to ask. Despite the hard appearance of his arms, the muscle was soft as you squeeze them in your grasp. His eyes soften, watching you as you caress your hands from his shoulders, to his forearm, down to his own hands. Your fingers slowly intertwine with his, your palms pressing together as your heart begins to pick up its pace. You let out a breath, your eyes locking.

The closing gap between you two was subconscious. Before you could even process it, your faces were just inches away from one another, his breath brushing against your skin, almost as if he is teasing you with a kiss. Tilting your head slightly, your eyes flutter shut, finally closing the lingering gap between your lips. It didn’t take Mike long to kiss you back.

Mike hesitantly breaks the handholding. His calloused hands move onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You could feel your heart race faster when he travels his hands behind you, sliding them upwards, feeling your wet, naked back as he explores every inch of your soft lips with his own.

Your hands reach his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, exploring the prickled texture of his stubble beneath your fingertips. You want him, and he wants you too.

You pull away momentarily to take a breath, but Mike chases your lips for another kiss. His mouth cupped over yours, cutting your gasp short as he initiated a more intimate exchange. Your tongues meet, and you can feel his slide up against yours, savouring every second, every taste. A groan slipped out from his throat, muffled between your lips. There was no space left between your bodies, the hot shower pouring over you both.

You kiss until you’re left breathless and lightheaded. He rocks you in his arms, careful in his movements to prevent you from slipping. You can’t help but focus on the way he treats you with utmost delicacy - as if he was scared of ever letting you go. It urges you to push yourself closer to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You want to reassure him that you are always here for him, and that he feels it with every kiss, every touch, and every loving exchange you share.

Your methods never fail to leave him so helplessly infatuated with you.

This time, Mike was the one to pull back with a heavy gasp, his lips a little swollen with love. You pant with him, collecting your breath after kissing for minutes on end. Honestly, it only felt like seconds. It was something you and Mike could drag on for hours.

You flutter your eyes open, your foreheads touching as you gaze into his eyes. It almost surprises you to see his eyes glossy with tears, but you don’t say a thing. Your eyes soften, a hand trailing up to comb his wet locks between your fingers. You silently respond to his feelings by pecking the tip of his nose.

Mike’s eyes widen for a brief second from the contact, before breaking into the smallest smile. The rare sight made you feel light, as if you were high up in the skies. Your fingers were well beyond pruned by now, but you sink deeper in his embrace.

He continues to hold you in a cradle, leaning in to rest his chin on the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling of his stubble against your skin, your fingers carefully clutching him in response. He let out a sigh, his chest falling with his breath.

He always felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, or that he didn’t deserve someone like you — yet, you remain in his arms. He holds you closer, your naked bodies pressed against each other. Knowing you are right here, cupped delicately in his arms is a feeling he’ll never take for granted.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N,” he whispers close to your ear, rocking you ever so subtly in his arms. “I love you so much.”

You soften, mirroring his position, resting your cheek against his neck. You smile, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I love you too, Mike.”

[jjkamochoso]

Hii! I definitely don't wait for you to reopen your requests religiously. Anyways, could I request a Feitan x Female Reader again with the personality like all my previous requests where they return to the base after a mission and she's more tired than usual and mindlessly starts ranting to him. They're probably rooming together wherever the troupe is staying this time around and she's just going through her usual night routine while he sits and watches and she slips in how much more comfortable she is around him than anyone else. Just something sweet and simple about how he's her comfort place! Thank you for your time!! ♡

You always have the cutest requests😭🫶❤️ sorry this took a little bit longer than usual but I thank you for your patience and never ending support!! I hope you love this☺️

Mission: Impossibly Handsome

Fluff

Feitan Portor x female reader

Warnings: none

Your entire body ached as you climbed into the backseat of the getaway car that was waiting for you at the curb, courtesy of Phinks. Your energy was absolutely depleted after the Phantom Troupe's mission that had just finished. Your enemies were formidable opponents this time and your nen abilities were really being pushed to the max up until the final battle. Of course, you and your teammates proved victorious at the end, but the whole ordeal had left you totally exhausted.

"You feeling alright?"

You didn't register that the question was for you until Phinks called out again.

"Y/n? You good?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit tired, is all."

You gave him your signature sweet smile to ease his worries which seemed to work since he nodded in understanding and struck up a conversation with Shalnark who was in the passenger seat. As you laid your head against the window and watched the landscape fly past you from the car that was going much faster than the posted speed limit, you sighed, missing the presence of your favorite person. Feitan wasn't assigned to this mission and your irritation at his absence increased tenfold when you thought about how nice it would be to rest your body against his. Knowing you had a long trip back to the base, you closed your eyes as the roar of the car engine lulled you into a dreamless sleep.

When you felt the car roll to a stop, you knew you had made it back to the house that was currently serving as your base. You bounded out of the vehicle without hesitation, barely noticing how the sky had erupted with endless amounts of stars in the time it had taken your team to go back home. It seemed as if the place had been abandoned with the way all of the lights were off and not a soul was to be found. You checked your phone and noticed the time: 3:37 am; that explained why everyone was quiet. You frowned, putting the phone back in your purse and trudging up the stairs to your room. You opened the door and couldn't help the small smile that appeared when you saw that Feitan was still awake, reading by candlelight in your shared room. He looked so peaceful and handsome with his nose buried in a book and you hoped that image of him would be burned in your mind forever.

"What took so long?" he asked, setting the book on the side table.

"We were really far away and unfortunately up against good fighters," you said, closing the door and starting to take off your shoes. You wobbled a bit as you unbuckled the second one, earning a look of concern from the man.

"You hurt?"

"No. Just worn out," you responded, finally out of your shoes and thankful that you wore socks as your feet touched the cold ground. Feitan watched you in silence as you walked about the room, gathering your things from your bag as you laid out everything you needed in your nightly routine. You were so not in the mood to do all of your skincare, but you knew it would help relax you before bed and you needed all the help with that you could get after such a tumultuous day.

"Turn around, please. I'm changing into my pajamas."

Feitan obliged, covering his eyes with his hands for good measure. That made you giggle for the first time all day and you were grateful for the calming effect Feitan had on you by just being himself.

"You look tired," he commented after you had told him he could turn back around.

"There are certain things you don't say to women, Feitan, and that's on the top of the list," you replied in a huff, putting your plush headband on and going into the bathroom across the hall to wash your face. To your surprise, Feitan followed you in there.

He handed you your washcloth to dry your face. "I no mean to offend."

You took the cloth from him and gently dabbed at your skin, not meeting his curious eyes.

"I know. I'm sorry for being snappy, I...had a really hard day."

You both left the bathroom and sat on the bed to apply the rest of your products and Feitan sat across from you, observing you under his intense gaze. You picked up each bottle and sighed in a defeated sort of way that was so out of the ordinary for you that it actually had him worried. You, however, were starting to feel more and more at ease the longer you were in company of the raven haired man in front of you.

"Everything started going wrong this morning," you finally spoke, piquing Feitan's interest since he knew you would dive into what had been bothering you. "My first pair of shoes I was going to wear broke and then I was almost late since my hair wasn't going the way I wanted it to. And don't even get me started on the huge fight. That was the absolute worst because..."

You continued on and on, your venting session seemingly never ceasing. The more you talked, the less weight was on your shoulders and Feitan noticed how you were were looking happier and more relaxed than when you first came back, which, in turn, made him a lot more at ease knowing you were okay.

"...and so I'm just purely exhausted after all of that. I've never been on a mission so physically and mentally taxing. I'm ready for a break," you told him at the end of your mindless rant, your nightly routine long finished. Everything seemed less daunting when Feitan was around; you barely noticed yourself going through the motions of your various skincare steps that you previously thought to be an impossible task.

"I was so relieved when I learned we were rooming together again," you added as you put all of your things away before succumbing to sleep. "You're the person I feel most comfortable around and I really like spending my time with you. I appreciate you listening to all of my complaining and I'm grateful that we're in each others' lives. Sorry to get all sappy, but I just thought I should tell you that. I don't say it as often as I should."

Feitan was grateful for two more things: that your back was to him and that the room was so dark that you couldn't see the blush he was sporting and probably would be for the rest of the night. You expected to hear lots of teasing for your emotionally charged words but all you got in return from Feitan was a tiny scoff. You smiled to yourself, knowing he took what you said to heart, even if he wouldn't admit it to you (or himself) that he felt the same way about you.

"I glad you okay after mission. You rest now," Feitan eventually said, pulling back the bed's covers for you to get comfy under. He was not a caretaker in any sense of the word so you enjoyed being at the receiving end of his shockingly sweet actions--maybe this was how he was showing you that he was most comfortable around you too. No matter the reason, you easily complied with his wishes as you slid under the sheets, more than ready to get restful sleep next to Feitan. He got comfortable on top of the sheets, sitting up with his back against the headboard as he dived back into his previously discarded book.

"Fei," you whispered a few minutes later.

"Hmm?" he questioned, his eyes not leaving the worn out pages.

"I missed you a lot today," you confessed, your tired, sleep deprived mind letting your mouth run wild without inhibition. You snuggled closer to him in your shared bed, wanting to be as near to the man you loved as possible. "We make a great team. I never want to do anything without you again."

Feitan froze when he felt your cheek rest against the side of his thigh. Judging by your steady breaths, you were now either asleep or close to it, and waking you up to move at that point was much too cruel, even for him. He was unsure how to react in that sort of situation, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the sight and feeling of you touching him so gently. The sensation tugging at his heartstrings was so very new, and so very foreign, and he didn't know why but he never wanted it to stop. He cautiously brought his pale hand down to your other cheek, a featherlight finger barely caressing your skin.

"I go nowhere unless it with you. I promise."

[sozila]

convalescence. (sukuna x reader)

synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.

pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.

warnings: attempted sexual assault, violence and blood. explicit content eventually, mdni. mentions of underage drinking and smoking (weed), descriptive sexual activities.

masterlist | previous | next

you are on: incubation. (part two) a/n:

guys.. i am so drained from this one 😭🙏 but i loved writing every bit of it, so i hope you like it! :) wc is triple from the last chapter (6.2k) :0 was posted on ao3 last night but finally got to doing this today <3 also, this chapter has a bit of a side quest with geto 🤭 also also, let me know if you want mini scenes, like what sukuna thought of your outfit at the party, etc ;)

ao3 link here.

incubation. (part two)

it’s been a week since you hung out at yuuji's swanky apartment and the older itadori was a memory of the past. your stressful college regimen waited for no one, especially you.

lectures piled on you once more and material you had to review flowed like an endless river.

you sat at your tiny desk in the bedroom of your quaint flat, deep in focus on a chapter of biology. “.. and that is how you do the cycle!” you mutter to yourself in small victory. you had finished the last page so you stand up and let out a big stretch. you decide to glance at the time on your watch only to realize you should’ve left your place 10 minutes ago for lunch with your friends.

you mentally curse as you haphazardly gather your things. you toddle on one leg and the other to pull up your socks, and obviously you had to mess up tying your shoes when you were already egregiously late. the universe’s timing never failed! you call an uber to the campus as the subway by your house has long left before.

when you finally find the group, they look at you with confused stares.

“is there a marathon i’m not aware of..?” nobara inquires sarcastically, yet weirdly concerned at the way you were heaving for air.

“haah — what do you, you mean? i’m not.. marathon,” you were making some sort of gestures with your hands and your words barely made sense. good lord, girl.

nobara pulls you down to sit in the chair beside her and motions for megumi to hand over his water bottle. “oookay, that’s enough out of you for now. breathe and drink some water, babe. we already got your food, so don’t sweat.”

as your heart rate began to slow, you finally noticed yuuji was actually laughing at you.

“oh my god, you looked like a little red pufferfish!”

you pout at him and let out a whine of disapproval (at least as much as you could with water in your mouth) when you saw megumi making blowfish faces at you. nobara swats at them and chides them accordingly. “take pity on our poor girl, she ran for us!”

suddenly, nobara snaps her fingers and points at yuuji, as if she just recalled something. “ah! yuu, can you finish what you were saying before we got interrupted? about the frat party this weekend? ” nobara looked positively giddy at the chance of getting wasted and you sighed. who knew you’d acquire such friends being the anti-big-sweaty-parties person you were. yuuji immediately flipped modes and began as he does, animated and hyper. you didn’t know how he possessed so much energy. part of you believed he stole that energy from megumi, who looked like every college student ever. “oh yeah! so sukuna…”

you didn’t realize you were zoned out of the conversation until your eyes catch your biology professor, mina kaito, strut by with a small box in her hand. your professor was notoriously hard to get ahold of— every office hours you tried to bring up your internship application, there was already a line of students following out the office. your university was prestigious and to land a one-on-one with any professor here was a miracle. you knew you were one of the best candidates for professor kaito’s research and had to secure this spot— even if it mean embarrassing yourself just a tad. you immediately jump up. “wha— girl, you just got here?” nobara looked at you, puzzled. “no time to explain- kaito’s here. i’ll be only 5 minutes!” you yell to her as you speedwalk to catch up with the nimble lady.

“professor kaito!” you call after her with a small wave, and the woman whips around with a disinterested air about her face.

“you have 2 minutes, it’s my lunch break.” she quips, resuming her walk down the hall. you take a couple strides to catch up to her and give her a small smile. “so, i wanted to inquire about the molecular biology research you’re doing…”

a small squeal leaves your mouth as soon as you exit the office. kaito had accepted your pitch to intern her research on your subject of interest. this was the biggest thing you could’ve ever imagine landing, and you did it in 15 minutes! (kaito let you speak more as soon as she recognized you meant business.)

you all but skip back to the cafeteria, where your friends still resided. a huge smile plastered your face, you couldn’t contain it any longer. nobara saw you approach the table and she instantly understood what this meant. “you got it? oh my god- she got it!” she jumps up in a flash and squeals with you, hugging and jumping as you were. yuuji gave a little cheer and ruffled your hair, which you were too happy to protest. after a moment of drawing attention to yourselves, you all finally sit down. megumi wasn’t big about gestures, so when he tapped you and gave two thumbs up with a wink to boot — you felt honored to be blessed with such a rarity. you tearfully make a heart sign with your hands to him back.

“there is no way we’re not celebrating,” nobara looks at you with a determined expression. “we’re going to the frat party this weekend, and you can’t say no!” she throws her hands up in glee and bumps you with her hip, both her and yuuji doing a little victory dance in their seats. you almost perk up with your usual response and yuuji instantly shushes you with his finger. “speak not, young padawan. to the party you shall go,” the mock solemnity paired with the swishes of his invisible lightsaber cracked you up. you sigh and throw your hands up. “alright, i’ll go,” you accept with a grin. immediately the cheers and dancing from yuuji and nobara return, and you could bet everyone in the cafeteria wanted you all to shut up or leave.

sukuna didn’t really care for girls. that’s not to be confused with fucking— he definitely fucked girls, but none really made him stop and think about who they were and what they did. truth is, he had a system. due to the fact sukuna had a long list of interactions with girls, he found it fun to compartmentalize. he took in what they wore, how they leaned towards him, the way they primmed themselves raw to appease him in a twisted, faux way. he didn’t want that. see, he had reason to believe all the girls that were interested in him held a vested interest— whether it was his money or his body, all of them came to him with some sort of ulterior motive. the persona they craved was just a fraction of the truth in his existence. ergo, sukuna didn’t really care for girls because they didn’t care for him.

so imagine sukuna’s intrigue when he meets yuuji’s little friend, the one he’s heard of but never saw- unlike the urchin kid and the loud redhead. you were an unknown to him. the outlying variable in the way you stiffened in his presence, almost begging with your eyes to be gone from his stare. you tried to be subtle, he noted this. however, despite your evident body language, your crass words painted a different picture. a self assured, independent girl who found him annoying and wasn’t afraid to tell it to his face. it was a little predatory in the way he savored how he made you agitated. he wasn’t a gentleman, but he would never touch a girl that didn’t want it. that never came to be a problem- most women initiated first touch with him, and then more.

you pushed him aside on first thought.

sukuna let you.

the first touch you initiated with sukuna was to be rid of him. you intrigued sukuna and all you did was go about your day.

he had come down that night to catch a glimpse of you again; he wanted to observe you. sukuna noted a new aspect: your softness. his eyes trailed as you worked quietly to make sure your friends were taken care of, not missing the gentleness you mustered to keep quiet in the process. the angry girl he met three hours ago was long gone. sukuna noticed the red sparkly phone strewn on the rug when you had begun your search, and slinked to pick it up before you could see. granted, his approach was demented— he just had to speak to you more. unfortunately, his desire to tease you rings louder than the one to actually converse and your quick escape meant you were back to a label of the unknown, yuuji’s little friend.

the week flew by for sukuna similarly— as a senior in mechanical engineering his workload wasn’t very light either. he juggled working hours at his grandfather’s auto shop as a mechanic and college as much as he could. he would never admit it out loud, but slipping the extra bills into yuuji’s wallet let him rest a little easier at night. he would count fraternity duties as a part of his responsibilities on paper, but realistically he did nothing in that organization but funnel in family money. it’s what let him keep the arm and body tattoos. he wanted to get some face ones done as well, but he was beaten to a pulp by his grandfather before he could even begin to form the thought. fuck it, he’ll get them when he graduates. who did sukuna have to impress? in the downtime he got, he worked on his bike in the frat garage and rode it for hours in the depth of the night. riding helped his insomnia, something he struggled with since a young age. he’d be damned before he opened that side of memories, so riding it was.

and so sukuna is here a week later, just as you were, sat on the second floor lounge of the cafeteria ironically in perfect view to witness your dramatic entrance. how silly, your face was puffy and red. a cute sight. the ribbons in your braids caught the sunlight from the big window panes.

“kunaaa, you’re not paying attention!” a certain white-haired man made sukuna’s eyes roll. the way he whined was more in the likes of a three year old. “gojo, when did i ever give a fuck about what you have to say?” he deadpans. gojo satoru was definitely a character, and proclaimed himself a best friend to sukuna much to his distaste. “you’re so mean! all i needed to ask was if you got the shit for saturday,” he pouts and cross his arms, slouching in his chair.

“sit up, dumbass, you’re going to get a double chin.” a tall brown haired woman taps gojo on the head with the iced coffee she held, taking a seat beside him. gojo gasps and sits up, immediately going on about how he couldn’t lose his devilishly handsome stature. in tow with her was his more preferred frat brother, geto suguru sporting a cup of his own and another which he hands to sukuna. “you gonna stay around on saturday? me and shoko got a quarter to smoke,” he tells him, sipping on the straw of his coffee. sukuna looks back down to the first floor to you and sanguine eyes catch you running off, ribbons bouncing. this was getting stupid. he needed a good distraction, so fuck it. “yeah, sure. i’ll hit a few.” geto nods in acknowledgment. someone like you wouldn’t go to a sleazy frat party.

“shokooo, will you paint my beer cooler? you’re our little frat sweetheart,” gojo pleads with the woman and sukuna amusingly watches her eye twitch with vague rage. “ask utahime to do it. and call me frat sweetheart again, see what happens,” she smiles darkly. the man chuckles nervously and swats her arm in mock sadness. “getooo, shoko’s threatening my life!” “maybe listen to her, satoru.”

the rest of the week was fairly uneventful, thankfully easy with your new opportunity in tow motivating you to finish off string. the sun crimson, it was 6pm when you hear nobara knock on your apartment door. you open to see her carrying two bag hangers of clothes and her clunky makeup bag, making you pale. “nobs… what’s this?” you ask, slightly frightened. she simply throws a sly smile and enters your apartment, unpacking everything. “oh nothing, just a super sexy outfit and the tools to make you even more of a bombshell,” she dismissively states. you groan internally. you were a fool to think nobara’s antics stopped at you accepting to attend.

3 hours fly by and you were completely dolled up, alongside nobara. your hair was adorned with a classic ribbon, which you plead to keep. nobara only allowed it because it matched the outfit she had you wear, which you didn’t feel awkward in. she knew how to optimize your current style to be more bold.

during the time the makeover occurred, megumi had drove up with yuuji and were waiting in your tiny living room, probably playing your wii mario kart. nobara texts maki a picture of you and she immediately hit her with a reply.

“sexy fox!!!”

when you step out of the bathroom, yuuji let out a slow whistle. “you are looking like one hot mama!” megumi immediately wrinkles his nose. “please never say that again..” he turns to you and gives a small nod. good enough for you. you giggle and pinch yuuji’s cheek. “i appreciate it regardless, yuu.” you thank him with a hug. “but! let’s go before nobara decides to change her eyeshadow again,” you whisper to the two boys and they nod courtly; they were well versed and knew the horrors.

megumi pulls up to the side of the street and puts his lexus in park. you and nobara walk out of the back, and immediately the chilly air hits you. damn this outfit for being so thin.

your eyes fall on the big building and instantly the color drains from your face. the big greek letters on the wall of the portico were none other than sukuna’s fraternity. how did you miss this? why didn’t it come in conversation that the party would be here ? you try racking your memory when it dawns. you had zoned out when yuuji started explaining the details of the party. there wasn’t much you could do, you were already here and your friends were excited to let loose. you just had to make sure you didn’t run into him.. hopefully.

nobara comes around behind you and links an arm with you and pulls you out of your thoughts and drags you faster in pace. “c’mon girl, time’s a-wasting!” yuuji and megumi walk close behind you. yeah, it’ll be fine! you had them. as soon as you went inside, the smell of beer and sweat hit your nose. loud beats pumped through the walls that you had heard faintly from the outside, but didn’t compare to the volume inside. you felt a little weird yet confident when you turned a few heads, some guys eyeing you down with smiles. nobara caught wind and wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively, which you scoffed at. you could barely hear nobara tell you she had spotted maki and was making her way to meet her— you only understood when you saw maki wave at you. yuuji and megumi motion they’re going to get drinks and be right back, which ironically left you alone.

you walk towards the area where the music wasn’t as loud, which was the back of the house. stepping closer, you behold big glass sliding doors and recognize it’s the back porch, in view of a color-lighted pool. before you can compute the people at the porch, sanguine eyes meet yours and your heart stops. sukuna was leaned on a porch chair, a thin blunt rest between his lips. he looked.. different. i mean, you only saw him in a tank and shorts, but this was like witnessing a new side of him. the only constant was the silver chain on his neck.

you couldn’t discern what kind of look he was giving you, but it was making your skin flame and the previously thin-seeming outfit now felt suffocating and hot on your body. something about his gaze felt like a violation of your privacy. without looking away from you, he exhales, mouth and nose, handing the blunt to a tall brown haired woman in an all black tiny dress. she seemed out of place with the seemingly thug-like frat men around her, sukuna included.

you back away from the glass panes and decide to find yuuji and megumi to escape this weird tension you just found yourself in. you spot a tall man with a black haired up-down smiled at you warmly and you nod kindly in response. he walks to you and leans down to your ear to speak. “are you yuuji’s friend?” you nod. thankfully, the new song was relatively more quiet and you could a hear lot better. “i’m suguru, by the way,” he says with a small smile. you give him yours. “pretty name for a pretty girl,” he drawls. “you like red?” his hand flicks the ribbon in your hair. you roll your eyes. “it matched the outfit,” you defend lightly. he gasps mockingly. “wow, i just noticed! red top, red bag, how cute! little red riding hood, you are,” he teases. “i bet your phone case is red too.” you shake your head and deny over-dramatically. “cmon, let’s see it!” he prods playfully. you sigh and show him the sparkly red phone in defeat. “you caught me. i’m secretly a red fiend. the second carmen sandiego, even.” he laughs heartily and tilts his head at you, pausing for a moment. “you looked a little lost, y’know. that’s not safe at a frat party,” he chuckles. “i was just looking for the drinks. do you know where they are?” he nods and puts a hand on your arm to spin you in the direction to it. “it’s the kitchen, just down this way and on your left. just weave the crowd,” he advises. you scan and see a light from a different room in the direction, which could mean the kitchen suguru meant. you look up and grin kindly. “thanks, suguru.” “don’t mention it, pretty girl.” he seemed like a cool person.. even a little hot, you had to admit.

you begin weaving people, trying not to bump into someone or step in mystery liquid but these boots were starting to be harder to get a grip in. a girl dancing pushes you slightly and you lose your balance a little, causing you to lose footing. before you know it, you stumble into a guy and you hear him drop his drink.

“what the— HEY! watch where you’re going, b-“

the blue haired man turns around and sees your doe eyed face and goes a little stupid.

you were already apologizing profusely. “oh my god, i’m so sorry, someone bumped into me, i can-“ “no worries, doll. you’re getting all riled up over nothin’,”

his smile felt sleazy and his eyes rake over your body violently.

“do i know you? you from a soror?” you didn’t like this exchange any longer and wanted to leave, now.

“actually, my friends are waiting for me, so i’ll just-“

“aw, what’s the rush, baby? you don’t wanna get to know me?”

his hand quickly snakes around your waist and you feel him grope you and you push him off of you and yell.

“what the fuck!” a hand pulls the man back and you were relieved to see it was megumi. “if you look at her again, i’ll fucking kill you.” he states coldly. the blue haired man scoffs and throws his hands up in surrender.

“it’s not that deep, man, she was just talking to me,” “yeah yeah, save it asshole. let’s go,” megumi wraps a protective arm around you and weaves you to the kitchen quickly.

he looks at you with a face of worry. “i’m so sorry we took long, yuuji ended up doing beer pong and he’s super wasted. did he do anything to you?” you wave your hands and shake your head, trying not to burden your friend. “he just grabbed me, but i pushed him off, i’m okay! i swear.” he eyes you, concerned. you did tend to downplay your own well-being and health, even to your detriment. before he could say anything else, you hear a drunk yuuji hoot loudly. “loooook gumi, i gots a ‘nother beeeeeer!” megumi immediately groans and goes to yank the drink out of his hand. yuuji somehow sees you in his drunken haze. “ohhhhh, look who it isssss! prettiest hot mama, my best frienddddd!” he makes grabby hands for you, but before you can reach him, he passes out and almost hits his head on the marble counter— fortunately megumi’s reflexes catches it before it happens. “i swear, yuuji knows he’s a lightweight but drinks like it’s juice,” he grimaces. you look at yuuji and sigh. so much for a party animal.

suddenly, you start hearing screams and yelling from the living room area. an image of nobara flashes before your mind and you immediately follow the sounds to make sure she wasn’t in danger— only to find the man who just sexually assaulted you getting pounded into the ground by sukuna. no one was able to break the violent trace he was in, the punches hitting constantly one after the other. the sound was so visceral you gasp, swearing you heard a crunch.

you see suguru push through the crowd and pull sukuna off of the man, whispering something angrily into sukuna’s ear. sukuna reluctantly stops. so suguru knows sukuna..?

an angry looking man with green hair is cursing at sukuna. “fuck off, man! we’re brotherhood, is this how you’re gonna treat us?” a woman with braided blue hair drops to the man and screams. “mahito, oh my godddd! are you okay baby!”

“get off me, bitch! ugh- you crazy motherfucker! that whore isn’t even yours, why’d you care?”

the blue haired man yells at sukuna, clutching his bloodied nose. you couldn’t even tell if the blood was from his face or his nose. sukuna almost lunges back onto him hearing what he said but a white haired man with sunglasses also intervened like suguru and pulls him back.

you didn’t realize your hand flew to your mouth in pure fear. they were all frat brothers here, and something about it all made your head spin. you wanted out, now. the stuffy heat of the house was making you dizzy.

you refuse to make eye contact with sukuna and you instead set out to find nobara. you scan all the rooms and end up finding them in the garage of the frat house. like yuuji, nobara was also trashed beyond belief and draped over her girlfriend, babbling and giggling. maki looks at you with a small apologetic smile. “i think i’m just gonna take her home, if that’s okay.” you nod and smile faintly. “i have to get this one in the car, too,” you hear over your shoulder. megumi is walking down with a passed out yuuji slumped on him in a piggyback position. all your friends were preoccupied with taking care of the drunk ones, you couldn’t bother them with taking you home too. that would be rude of you, right? you hated the thought of being a burden to the people you cared about, especially when they have more things to deal with. it’s fine anyways, you had a solution. “megs, i’ll just call an uber, ‘kay?” his face drops in a frown and he objects. “no! i can take you too, don’t worry. i just need to keep yuuji at bay, so—“

“i’ll take her.”

you trace a gruff voice above you and discern sukuna is standing directly behind you, completely unfazed with what he just committed mere moments ago. the audacity of this man! “i’d rather die than have you take me home,” you spat angrily. he sighs like explaining this to you was a inconvenience to him. “it’s a 3am uber or me. your choice.”

a drunk yuuji stirs and he starts squirming and nearly makes megumi topple over. maki looks at the entirety of you and narrows her eyes. “darling, go with sukuna. i’ll make sure you get home safe, okay?” she tells you softly. her eyes flick over to sukuna and her gaze hardens. “if even a hair on her pretty head is missing, i’ll hunt you down myself.” sukuna holds up two fingers and whistles. “scout’s honor, ma’am.” she nods curtly, picking up her messy girlfriend. she looks at you for a moment more. “text me when you’re home, okay? love you.” you assent, mirroring her bye. megumi frowns a little but gives sukuna a similar tight stare, a more silent exchange between the two occurring. he says his byes to you as well.

the unperturbed man gives you a wry smile, like the ones you’ve given him in prior. “shall we leave then?” you scoff and cross your arms over your chest. this was starting to feel like a mistake and you should’ve just taken your chances with the late night uber.

sukuna leads you further into the garage, behind all the expensive jeeps and roll royces. “what kind of car do you drive, exactly?..” you mutter quietly. sukuna heard anyways and exults a chuckle. “not really a car, i think.”

he comes to a stop at a sleek black motorcycle, which you look at in shock and awe. your jaw drops.

“hell no. absolutely the fuck not.”

“i can still call the uber then…?”

“just hand me the fucking helmet bitch.”

he cracks open the seat to pull out another helmet and hands it to you. you snap it on carefully, not trying to catch your hair or your ribbon. you look at the vehicle and the thoughts start rolling. this was literally a death machine. he wanted you to ride this speed demon that he controls. this was beyond insanity, you never do things like this! but.. what else could you do?

sukuna had already strapped himself in the helmet, hopping onto the bike. he holds out a hand palm up to you. “are you gonna get on, or you gonna keep the fish out of water miming going?” he deadpans. you begrudgingly throw a leg over, letting him help you on behind him. he turns a key and the engine roars to life, the growl of the vehicle echoing in the open garage.

you think back to the moment you and sukuna locked eyes prior and remembered he was smoking weed. “are you sure you’re sober? you smoked a blunt earlier,” your voice was a little high strung, but sukuna just laughs. he looks over his shoulder at you, smirking. “if you think 2 hits on a blunt is enough to get me faded, you’re an idiot.” you smack his back. “stop calling me that!” he simply laughs at you, as always, and starts rolling the bike out of the garage.

“all you need to do is keep your feet in, press your thighs together, and wrap your arms around my waist.”

“wait, what? run that last one back?”

“do you wanna fly off and eat concrete?”

“…no.”

“then do it.”

your hands slowly circle his hard waist and awkwardly hover, weirdly shy about touching him like this.

“woman, if you don’t put your arms around me normally, i will make you.”

you try to argue that this was a perfectly acceptable middle ground but before you can finish, his rough hand yanks your arms to his stomach like it was nothing. you yelp and your helmet bangs into his back at the sheer force. your face flames at the fact your palms were in direct contact with his rock-hard abs, which felt absolutely unreal.

“you could’ve been nicer about that.”

“nothing nice about safety.”

without a warning, he accelerates the bike and you’re off, enlisting another yelp from you. your arms tightened around him, which he grins to himself about. the first few minutes of riding go by with you koala gripped on his waist, not even daring to move your head from the moment he had started. sukuna looks at you in his rear view mirror with a sly grin. “you know nothing will happen if you relax your head, right?” he yells over the wind resistance blowing around the bike. you clearly didn’t even notice that you were so stiff and straighten, looking at him with a displeased frown. “yeah i know, you didn’t have to tell me,” you rebut.

he shakes his head at you and the road looks to merge on the bridge. now open to the sky without the tall building blocking it, you are immediately entranced by how the water shimmers with the moonlight, and the stars were extremely visible tonight. your eyes light up with the simple joy you found in this, just admiring nature. unbeknownst to you, sukuna snuck glances of you in this state and almost wished he could take a picture and capture this for himself later.

faster than you anticipated, sukuna was pulling into the street with your apartment. he came to a slow in front of your building and turned on the ignition, hopping off to help you get down.

you notice his bloody knuckles and let out a little gasp. you’re telling me he was just driving like this, cut up and all? what is this guy on? you can’t leave him like this, he drove you all the way out here.. ugh, damn my guilty conscience! let me be evil for once!

“what?” sukuna gives you a dubious look.

“you’re bleeding,” you deadpan.

he looks at his hands, flipping them over. he seems surprised something was even there. it gave the impression sukuna’s been in brutal fights like that routinely.

“aw what, this? it’ll be fine.”he replied with a shrug. you narrow your eyes at him.

“i’m cleaning those and bandaging you. i don’t want your ass blaming me for tetanus or something.” you throw at him.

sukuna looked down at you and chuckled, and you almost think you saw a genuine smile. you couldn’t tell for sure because it disappeared as soon as it came, replaced with the same annoying smirk he carried.

“alright, then. lead the way, sweetheart.”

your heart is pounding as you walk up the open metal stairway, gigantic tattooed man in tow. how you got here is still unresolved logic in your mind but you’re too tired to fight it. keys jiggle to unlock the small apartment, which felt even more smaller when sukuna stepped inside. it was like a bull in a china shop.

“um.. you can hang your jacket and helmet, if you want,” you point to the small funky coat rack nestled in the corner of the entryway. he nods awkwardly and removes them, along with his shoes. “i’ll be right back, im just getting the medical kit.”

you quickly run into your bathroom and open your mirror cabinet, fishing for rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. to your horror, the only bandaids you had were pink and hello kitty-themed. you imagined the big scary man with pinked up knuckles and giggle. serves him right, you thought.

you walk back in to see sukuna staring at a picture on your mantle of you, yuuji, nobara and megumi. you clear your throat and gesture for him to sit on the couch. he obeys accordingly, nonverbal. you kneel in front of him and you see sukuna look away from you in the corner of your eye. you pull his hands forward and begin dabbing the cuts, and he winces. you give him a questioning smile.

“what, i thought you had a high pain tolerance?”

“high pain tolerance doesn’t include this rubbing alcohol masochism.”

you let out a giggle at the dry joke before you can think to stop.

“what, you find my suffering funny? i punched that douche for you and this is what i get in return..” he grumbled, eyebrows furrowing.

you didn’t really connect the dots in the moment that sukuna was in fact, beating up the guy that sleazed on you. you felt.. something. you didn’t want to give any other name to it besides gratitude.

“ah.. thank you. genuinely.”

his eyes lower to meet your sincere ones and the ice on his resolve melts further. “it.. it was nothing. assholes deserve to get their shit rocked. and mahito’s been asking for an ass-whooping for a hot minute,” he rants. his openness catches you by surprise, but you let him speak away as you clean and bandage him up.

“—and every time they ask, i tell the boys to start listening to cues with women, but the stupid motherfuckers just don’t get it. uh— is there.. is there somethin’ on my face?”

sukuna’s monologue abruptly comes to a halt when he watches you observe him closely. your doe eyes were pooling into his, and he felt like you were perceiving his soul.

“your eyes are sanguine red. did you know that?”

your voice was barely above a whisper, the apartment silent. the same moonlight spilled into your living room and on you and god, he swore you were angelic. his eyes lowered down at your lips, his head moving close—

your phone’s ringtone makes the both of you jump backwards and you scramble to look at the caller id. “father”. you take a deep breath and gesture sukuna to stay quiet. he nods and looks away, trying to resemble some form of privacy for you. you pick up.

“dad, it’s super later at night, is everything okay?” a gruff raspy voice crackles back. “you did not update me or your mother about your new opportunity. i was going to give you until sunday to bring it up yourself, but i grew impatient with your laziness.”

your heart sinks a little. even with the knowledge that you scored a near-impossible internship.. your father had other things to say to you. “choujo. you need to be proactive in everything you do. if you cannot handle sharing important information, how can you even do a simple job! i don’t understand what they teach you at that university.. just a waste, seriously. do better.”

the line cuts before you could say anything back. the apartment fills with a more pained silence this time. you don’t want to look at sukuna, you already felt like disappearing into thin air, the gloom making tears well in your eyes.

“…don’t listen to him.”

you look up to soak the tears back in a little before you meet his gaze timidly.

“what do you mean?”

sukuna takes a moment to really look at you before he sighs, pushing off of his knees to walk towards the coat rack.

“you work hard? that’s all that matters. don’t listen to the noise assholes wanna make,” he states firmly, unhooking his leather jacket and biker helmet.

you frown at his use of words towards your father, whom you still respected despite his harsh treatment of you. “ah.. thanks, sukuna.”

he puts the jacket on in one swift gesture, giving you a slow grin. “nah. it’s just common sense, something an idiot like you wouldn’t know.”

your jaw ticks and you immediately start pushing him out the door. “aaaand that’s enough of you for tonight! good riddance,” you snap in annoyance, feeling him shake with the snickers he was suppressing. you give him a dry smile and slam the door in his face.

sukuna stands at the door for a moment, making sure he hears you walk away.

“goodnight, sweetheart.”

a soft bid to you, the sound in the night air washing away with the clunks of his shoes on metal steps.

the man reaches in his pockets to fish out his keys and is met with a paper-like material. pulling it out, he recognizes the design to be the same as the bandaids adorning his hands now. a sticky note attached with neat handwriting read,

“for my phone. asshole”

sukuna smiles to himself, shaking his head. you were extremely hotheaded, that was a given — but the fact you held kindness in a small gesture and chose to downplay it made him wonder what it would be like to actually be admired by you.

definitely more pink bandaids.

but he knew better than to poke around his little brother’s friend.. or so he convinced himself he believed. he quickly tucks them back into his pocket, starting his motorcycle to ride back home with only one thing on his mind… you.

next chapter might take a while because i rushed this one out, but don’t fret! i won’t leave it for more than a couple days :)

peace luv bathtub!!!

© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[arislary]

Nipping At Your Nose - Han Jisung x f!reader Oneshot

Synopsis: You're spending the holidays at the club with your roommate and things take a turn for the best when you meet the blue-haired bartender who turns out to be more than what you expected.

Or Han Jisung as Jack Frost a.k.a. club owner

Pairing: Jack Frost/Club Owner!Han Jisung x f!reader (1st POV)

Genre: s2l, fluff, smut, mythical characters

Warning: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (wrap up!), biting kink, sexual assault (reader is groped and handles her own), weed consumption, alcohol consumption, temperature/ice play (but not what you would think), nipple play, blowjob/handjob, pussy eating, squirting, slight foot fetish (Jisung just likes her socks), I probably most definitely missed some warnings so just let me know!

WC: 16k

A/N: I totally meant for this to have been posted for Christmas, but who am I kidding, it got away from me! EXTREMELY UNEDITED, but Han Jisung's blue hair is wrecking me and I needed to write about him immediately. Again I can't emphasize enough how unedited this is, so I am so sorry, I literally could not stop writing 😭 There's also a small part of me that wants to write all the members as their characters, but that would so much, unless.. IDK you tell me! Also if you want to see more Jack!Jisung, requests are open ☺️

Masterlist

Taglist: @hanji-coffee, @inlovewithstraykids, @xgridx

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I tapped the bar as I threw the shot back, holding in from making a face as I brought the lime to my lips. I turned to my right grinning as Damian glared at me as he sucked on his lime. I had convinced him to come out as a celebration for finishing the week and celebrating the holiday season. With Christmas being tomorrow, this had been the only club we could find that was open. We had both started new jobs at the beginning of the month and had finally found the time to celebrate our accomplishments. Even as roommates, we barely saw each other with how much work we did. 

On top of the fact that this would be my second year spending Christmas after having been no-contact with my family. A distraction was a must. I went out of my way to make the holiday special for myself and refused to allow the lack of family stop me from treating myself and those I loved. Damian had decided to spend the holiday in the states rather than go home to visit his parents in Australia as he normally did.  

“Literally so many different ways we could be celebrating,” Damian groaned, head falling back as he leaned away from me. A laugh bubbled from my lips as I called out to the bartender to request another round of drinks. 

The original bartender, a cute muscular man, who had been serving us was now occupied with patrons on the otherside of the bar and turned to the man squatting next to him that had just come from their backrooms. I watch the two converse before the man squatting stands up to come over to us and suddenly I’m greeted with wide brown eyes, blue hair, and chubby cheeks. 

I felt myself pause as I took in the good-looking man in front of me. His black long-sleeve shirt was loose around his frame, rolled at the sleeves. He had one gold chain hanging from his neck and various rings and earrings decorating his person. My eyes watched as he rubbed his hands on the rag that had been hanging on his shoulder. His very veiny hands at that. My eyes stuck to the way his long fingers clenched around the towel. I felt my mouth start to salivate the longer I stared. His eyebrow raised as I stayed silent longer, glancing over to Damian who looked ready to burst out laughing. 

Damian shoved an elbow into my side, causing me to flinch and sit upright in my chair. I stared wide-eyed at the bartender, my brain coming to a complete stop. 

“I wanna hold your hand-”

Girl. 

“NO! I mean-“ my hand shot out in front of me, shaking at him, other hand covering my mouth in disbelief. Damian shook in chair, practically falling out of it from how hard he was laughing. The bartender’s smirk stretched into an amused smile, his hands now coming to rest on the bar as he let out a huff of laughter. “Can I please get a rum and coke?” 

I mumble out my order, my eyes refusing to leave the bar-top as Damian continued to laugh, attempting to give his own order. As soon as the grinning bartender walks away to make our drinks, I turn to the ‘Brutus’ sitting next to me, taking my turn to shove an elbow into Damian’s ribs now, hissing in his ear. 

“Thanks for the help, ass!”

He yelped and rubbed at his side, eyes narrowing at me, but the smirk on his face gave him away. 

“It didn’t look like you needed my help with how you practically shoved his pants down and started to suck his d-“

“Alright, I have a ‘Manhattan’ for the gentleman and-“ the “too-cute-for-his-own-good” bartender returned with our drinks laying them down in front of us one by one. “A rum and coke for my new favorite customer.”

He shot me a wink as I sputtered reaching to grab my drink, fingers barely grazing his. I jumped a bit, quickly bringing the drink up to my lips, straw bumping my top one before making it into my mouth. Way to go, ________, way to go. 

The bartender leans forward, hand outstretched towards me. His shoulders and arms seeming so big, making a flash of heat go through me. My eyes dart from his hand back to his face, stopping once, several times, at his lips. 

“You said you wanted to hold my hand right?” 

More like put your fingers in my mouth, but sure. 

The heat rose to my face, blooming from my chest upwards. I watched as his eyes flashed down, to look at my barely covered tits, the red halter lace connected by two rhinestone hearts at the center. I had chosen to pair the top with a white layered mini skirt that had a small bow in the middle. His eyes lazily going up my body from what he was able to see. I could feel the heat in me grow further and I turn to Damian, shooting up from my seat. 

“Let’s go dance!” 

“But we -“ I grabbed his arm, dragging him behind me, shooting one last glance towards the bar to see the hot man still gazing at me, the smile on his face growing, crinkling his eyes. I quickly turn back around, chugging at my drink, trying my hardest to ignore the burning in my cheeks. 

I face Damian once we hit the dance floor, the sea of bodies pushing us close together and forcing us to hold our drinks in front of our chests. Damian began to sway, his head bobbing to the music as he took meager sips. I, on the other hand, had finished my drink, glass empty in one hand as I began to move my hips to the music. I could feel Damian shuffling closer, swaying his hips in time with mine. I felt Damian take the empty glass from my hands, moving to an empty cocktail table to set them aside. 

My gaze trails across the club, moving towards the bar where I am met with those brown orbs once more. I paused in my dance, eyes not wavering as we held contact. A body stepped in front of me, a man with a hopeful grin as he grabbed my hand to pull me closer. My eyes flashed to behind his shoulder where the blue-haired bartender continued to stare, his eyes with a challenging glint in them. I glanced to my right to see Damian had been pulled into by what appeared to be a bachelorette group. I turn back to the guy in front of me, stepping to the side, so that I would see the bar in my peripheral. 

I turned my back to him, pressing up against his front, swaying my hips sensually to the music, hands moving up my body as his moved to my waist to pull me back against him. My head turned to see him still watching. A smirk on his face as he conversed with another patron. I felt my breath stutter as he continued to work, appearing unaffected. 

It wasn’t an outright rejection, but the possibility of him being apathetic almost had me feeling embarrassed. I focus back dancing with the man who clearly seemed interested in me, albeit slightly more handsy than I was okay with it, but it was something I was letting slide, fuck it, it’s Christmas. Several times throughout our dancing, I had to move his hands back down to rest on my hips, him sending me a fake apology every time his fingers grazed the outside of my tit through my shirt or trying to slip his fingers under my skirt. However after I felt another rough grab at my ass, I had enough. I prepared to leave his hold when the music abruptly changed to an all to familiar song, freezing me in my spot as I listened. 

Yeah, uh-huh

Yeah, yeah

My eyes flashed towards the bar, my mouth gaping open as I found him already looking. 

Broke up with my girl last night so I went to the club (So I went to the club)

I snorted, hand flying to my mouth as his eyes flashed with amusement. The man behind me remained oblivious to our interaction, hand coming up to rest on my stomach and leaning down to whisper in my ear. I turn my head, looking away from him to focus again back on the handsy guy behind me. 

“You’re so hot,” I restrain myself from gagging, biting my lip to stop the laugh from escaping and lay a hand on top of his arm to prevent it from getting further. The ick had long settled in and I had already regretted letting him dance on me. 

“Thank you,” I say back, ready to disentangle myself from when he held on even tighter. My eyes widened in surprise, head flashing to the side. 

“You have to realize what you’ve been doing?” He suddenly pressed forward, pressing a very obvious erection against my ass. I gasped and tried to turn in his hold again. 

“I’m done dancing, let go of me.” 

“The way you were dancing on me tells me differently,” one of his hands moved up, grazing underneath my tit over my shirt. Oh hell no!  I gaped and slammed my heeled boot down on his shoe finally causing him to release his hold as he yelled out in pain. He crouched down to hold his foot as I whirled around, hands falling to my hips as I glared down at him. 

“I wasn’t dancing for you, fucking pervert,” he straightened up, immediately crowding into me. I stumbled back a few steps, not having been prepared, eyes still blazing in fury. My back was suddenly pressed against someone’s chest, a very cold chest.

I like the bartender (oh, if you’re lookin’ for me)

I’m at the bar with her (Oh oh oh uh-huh, okay)

His hands hold onto my elbows, thumbs rubbing circles into the inside of them. The smell of woods and chestnuts? surrounded me as the chest behind me vibrated with anger.

“He’s banned, take his ID down and kick him out.”

The man spit on the floor near us, leaving me to flinch back against the chest behind. My eyes flashed upwards to meet the brown orbs that had been watching me all night, softening once they made eye contact with mine. 

“That bitch started it, the fucking slut was asking-“

He hadn’t been able to finish his sentence before a fist flew forward and slammed into his cheek. The security guard, dressed in a black ensemble with the only color coming from a Santa hat on his head, that had thrown the punch, cracked his neck to the side and hauled the man back to his feet. I watched with a scowl on my face, crossing my arms, what a fucking asshole and during Christmas! 

“Thanks, Chan,” the security guard or Chan nodded towards us and sent a wink my way as he led the perv out. My eyes flashed to the owner of the deep voice behind me, taking him in up close again. 

“I’m ______,” I interrupt him the second I noticed his mouth open. He stopped, mouth still open as he tilted his head. He laughed his hand grabbing mine to shake it. 

“That’s a pretty name,” I nodded my head, hand still holding onto his hand, his very veiny hand. He pulled me closer by my hand, kissing my knuckles. “I’m Jisung, now come on, Sweetness.”

My hand engulfed by his, pulls me towards the backrooms, up a small staircase. My eyes stay fixated on the man leading me. His blue hair shining under the lights of the club and added festive lights. We reached a dark hallway, him leading me further towards the last room. Each door we passed contained a symbol on it, I was able to make out a top hat, an Easter egg, and a clock before we stopped in front of a door with a silver snowflake. 

As Jisung unlocks the door, I realize I should feel scared or at least cautious by the fact that a stranger was leading me away, but as he looked back towards me, eyes still soft, all other thoughts left, only he remained. Scurrying a few steps to be in stride with him, bringing his hand up to my lips to press a kiss. His lips stretching into a smile as he opens a door to an office space completely decked out in Christmas decorations. 

I gasped and walk into the room, eyes trying to take it all in. The office didn’t look like a typical office, rather more of a game room, with a couch and tv on one side and more of a library space on the other. A tree stood in the middle, multi-colored lights and what looked like personal ornaments. 

“Jisung, this is beautiful,” the door shuts behind him as he walks toward to the small bar behind the couch. He smiles watching me, hands laying on the counter top. I turn towards him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He watched me with dark eyes, the desire evident in them. I suddenly felt naked, yet not in a way that made me want to hide away. 

My eyes flashed towards the coffee table and I gasped, my feet immediately leading me towards it. 

“You were holding out on me!” I pulled off my boots, the grinch ankle socks making themselves known. I heard a strangled sound me behind me as I sank down onto the plush couch. My head whipped around to see Jisung’s head thrown back, eyes closed and jaw clenched. I realized how rude that could have been, I knowing first hand how specific I was with sharing my weed. I turned to face him, sitting on my knees, hands coming to rest on the back of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first or let you offer, that was rude of me.”

His eyes opened, head moving to look at me. He took in my position and groaned once again, leaning now on his forearms, head falling to touch the counter. 

“Sweetness,” I shivered at the nickname and shuffled closer to him. I reached out, hand hesitant in mid-air before coming to rest on the top his hair, fingers running through the blue strands. The moan that left him came from deep within his chest as I lightly dragged my nails through the locks. 

He lifted his head up slowly, my hand slowly falling to rest on the side of his neck. His eyes met mine, swiftly standing up and striding to round the couch to meet me. He sits next to me, hands moving to the rolling tray, papers, and grinder that lay there. He took in a deep breath, as his hands began to empty the grinder to roll a blunt. 

I moved in my seat, tucking my legs to the side as I leaned my hands on my knees.

“Do I make you nervous, Jisung?” 

His eyes glanced towards me before taking another look at how much closer I got. His eyes went wide, dropping the blunt and some of the weed he had already began to sprinkle on top back on the tray. 

“N-no,” I hummed and sat back, eyes glancing away down at his hands. 

“Oh-“ he didn’t turn back to begin rolling yet, eyes remaining on me. “You make me nervous.”

I look towards him, meeting his eyes to find the surprise there. I couldn’t help the smirk that came onto my face as I pushed against his shoulder with my hand. “Okay, not too much now, it was obvious.”

He smiled wide at me, head dropping forward as he chuckled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a deep blush on his face. 

“You- uh- definitely make me nervous, but more about what you could do to me,” he turned back to the tray, his hands resuming their task to finish rolling the blunt. My legs move to place my feet back on the floor. A hand falls on my left foot before it could hit the floor and maneuvered my legs to go over his thigh, my legs falling in between his. My feet rubbing at his calves. 

“Are you gonna ask me what I want for Christmas now, Santa?” I whisper into his ear. The desire growing further inside of me.

His eyes flicker over to me as he brings the blunt to his lips, letting tongue come out to lick at the leaf. My eyes follow the movement of his tongue as his fingers continued to roll it back up. He reached out the hand holding the blunt towards me, eyes expectant. 

“Depends, have you been naughty or nice?”

I leaned forward, my tongue coming out to run right where his had. I maintained eye contact with him, eyes drooling with want for each other. He pulled it back as my legs squeezed the thigh under me. He hissed and tapped a hand against my thigh, smirking as I giggled and fell into his side. 

“Yea, definitely naughty, Sweetness,” his fingers reached down to tickle at my foot. “Might have to give you a new nickname.”

He finished closing the blunt reaching over to grab the lighter. As he lit it, his eyes felt shut and his neck went back as he re-inhaled the smoke through his nose. I gulped watching his throat bob, his fingers holding the blunt nonchalantly. He reopened his eyes and made contact with me as he exhaled the smoke. 

He held the blunt out to me and I stared at him for a second, the temptation inside of me growing. I wrapped my lips around the blunt, taking a long drag. My lips pressing against the pads of fingers. I closed my eyes willing myself to ignore the slick beginning to pool in my underwear. Anxious he’ll begin to feel it through his slacks. I shifted in my seat, pulling away from the blunt as I exhaled the smoke through my nose. 

I opened my eyes to find his boring into mine. I pursed my lips, trying to hold back my pleased smile. I leaned back my seat, pushing the blunt back towards his lips. 

“So you’re not just the bartender then?”

His tongue came out to lick his lips as he took a hit himself, holding it towards me again. He smirked at my question and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You could say that,” I pouted and sniffed, to hold the smoke in for a bit longer. I pursed my lips to the side to exhale and looked off to the side. 

“Then would you say you’re the owner?” 

“That’s right, Sweetness, although it’s not just me,” he took a hit, leaning back against the couch, bringing the ashtray with him and handing it to me. I scooted closer to him, legs curling up more in his lap as he continued to hold the blunt up for us to take hits off of. 

The further down the blunt became the closer the two of us sat, the more the conversation deepened. It was odd to find myself sharing of more about myself, the fears of the new job, what it could mean for me in the future. He shared of his friend group, the group as I’ve come to learn that are all part owners of the club or have a role to serve. My head now leaning on his shoulder, his free hand resting on my thigh, fingers reaching in the inside of my thighs. 

“What made you stay open for Christmas? Did the holly jolly man inspire you?”

He snorted and shrugged his shoulders as he laid the roach in the ashtray, grabbing it from my hands to put it back on the table. He settled back down, his hand coming back to rest on my thigh. His eyes have a glint to them that I can’t quite put my finger on. 

“Please, as if he could make any of the club decisions, he’s too busy with his list all the time,” Jisung grumbled, a pout making it’s way on his lips. 

“You’re right, how could I compare you to that old man?” Jisung nodded as I placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face down to look at me. “Besides, if I’m being completely honest, I’ve always been more into Jack Frost anyways.”

Jisung stills underneath me, the hand he had on my thigh, clenching. My own hand stills on cheek, nervous that I may have said something wrong. 

“I’m actually Jack Frost,” his hand squeezes my thigh and an unreadable emotion enters his eyes as he stares at me. Interesting. A beat passes before he clears his throat. “Hence the hair,” he pointed a finger up towards the blue locks. I reached up to tug one of the strands, biting my lip. 

“I’ve always had a biting kink,” deciding to play along with his joke. 

Jisung and I blinked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. My face turned, nose pressing into his chest as we laughed against the other. Jisung’s laugh filled my ears and it became a sound I wanted to hear again and again. I leaned back from him, finally calming down form the laughing fit. He met my eyes and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, fingers gliding down the side of my neck. 

“We’ll have to test that theory some other time then,” he hummed more to himself than to me. His eyes staring hard at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, thumb pressing in. I leaned back into him, his hand falling to rest around my shoulders as I laid my head on his. 

“I don’t know honestly,” Jisung sighed as he started to answer my initial question. “I just realized that some people don’t always have it to spend it with and that… fucking sucks. So why not just be open?” he trailed off, head dipping back to lay on the couch. I shifted my head up to look at him, my breath catching at his response. “Besides, I’m with my best friends anyways, that’s all matters to me.”

My eyes ran down his face, taking in the blue of his hair against his honey skin. The cupid’s bow of his lips with the slight 5 o’clock shadow framing them. I turned my gaze down to the hand that rested on my thigh, not noticing as he turned to face me. 

“And to think if I hadn’t been open for such a holiday, I wouldn’t have met you, Sweetness,” my eyes move up his body to meet his again, taking in the way the smirk plays at his lips, but his eyes. His eyes tell me so much more. I couldn’t help, but become overwhelmed with the urge to hold this man’s hand and never let it go. Already knowing the warmth it would provide me, creating a longing inside, that I never knew existed. 

I looked away from him, towards the clock he had above the television flashing 12:25. 

I gasped sitting up, whirling around to face Jisung. 

“Fuck, it’s Christmas already! Damian! Fuck me, man, I’m the worst!” 

I scrambled up from where I practically sat on his lap, trying to tug on my boots. Jisung was quick to stand with me, hands falling on my hips as I struggled to get my shoes on. 

“Wait, Sweetness,” Jisung guided me to sit back down, kneeling before me as his hands tugged my boots from my hands. I looked at him, mouth opening ready to argue with him. “Would you want to invite him back here?”

I paused in my movements, staring up at him in surprise. 

“I-“ I looked all over his face, trying to something to tell me what he was thinking. I felt slightly dumbfounded that he was ready to invite my friend back into the intimate environment we had created. The pleading in his eyes became apparent as his hands moved to my feet, pressing into the soles. “Jisung.”

I mumbled his name, hands coming to run up his muscular arms up to his shoulders. He moved closer, his noses brushing against mine. 

“You just stay in here and I can go get him,” his hands moved up from my feet to my calves, fingers still digging in to massage the muscles. I felt myself become like putty in his hands, melting further into his touch. “You can roll another joint if you want and I know some of the guys would be willing to come join, we’ll celebrate all together, hmm?” 

I was nodding my head before he finished, squeezing his shoulders with each word that passed through his lips. Something about the way he phrased it, it seemed like he was begging me to stay, not wanting this moment between us to end. 

“Will you come back?”

He snorted, his head dipping forward, his hair brushing the skin left exposed by my shirt. I heaved in a breath as he raised his head again, a wide smile present. 

“Sweetness, I’d be a fool to leave my favorite customer alone-“ I blushed as his hand moved up to grab a hold of mine. “And, who’s gonna hold your hand if I’m not here?”

“Jisung!” I pushed him off, laughing and trying to tug my hand out of his hold. “You’re so-“

“So?” He eggs me on, crowding up in my face, eyes comically wide. “Funny? Amazing? Pretty?”

“Annoying,” I state flatly, finger coming up to flick his forehead. Jisung yelps, hand coming up to rub at the spot. He playfully glowers at me, fingers flying forward to dig into my sides. 

“Yah! You’re not being very nice! And on Christmas!” He mocked gaped at me as I flew into a fit of laughter, tears forming at my eyes. “I might have to tell Santa, you don’t even realize the sway I have, precious!”

“Ji-“ I shrieked further, Jisung moving to a standing position over me, continuing his assault at my waist. His smile wide as he took me in underneath him. “Spare me!”

He finally released me, hands falling on either side of the couch as leaned over me. I gasped for air, smiling wildly up at him, trying to calm the racing of my heart. He pressed his lips quickly against my forehead before standing straight and walking towards the door. 

“I’ll be back, Sweetness, stay put,” he pointed a finger at me and I mock saluted him, winking. 

“You got it, Mr. Frost!” He paused by the door, eyes flashing to me with an intensity that had me freezing. I bit my lip, clenching my thighs as a pit of desire blooms from my core, shivering as it felt like the room’s temperature dropped. 

“Behave.” 

The door closed behind him and I released a breath, falling back against the couch. 

“What the fuck?” I sat back up, eyes trailing along the room, finding what looked like another door. I turned back towards the coffee table when I suddenly remembered my phone. I shrieked, hands flying to my tits to grab at them and then down to my stomach, hips and butt. 

“Ah, fuck me, man!” I stomped my foot, slapping myself on my forehead. “Way to be distracted by some dick, _____, ugh you bitch,” I slip my boots back on, trudging to the door. Just as my hand reached for the handle, it swung open to present Damian. 

“Yah!” I jumped back as he approached, expression angry. My eyes widen and I put my hands up in surrender.

“Listen to me! Listen to me! Let me tell you something first!” I am barely able to register the three other men walking into the room as Damian grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him, pulling me in for a hug, but it’s more of a chokehold.

“I was so worried! One second you’re there and the next you’re gone, and suddenly your Bartender is asking me to come with to a backroom! You can’t leave me alone! And on my first Christmas!”

“It’s not your first Christmas-“

“My first AmericanChristmas, you fucking brat! God, I should have you evicted!”

I snort as he fake cries and push against his chest, eyes flashing to the three amused men that have moved to different areas of the room. Jisung leaning by the door still, smile present watching us. 

“It’s not my fault you were trying to get into an engaged woman’s pants!” After successfully pulling away from him, I pushed him towards the the couch to sit with the other man. I could feel Jisung’s body as he moved to follow us. His hand ghosting my lower back, leaving me feeling tingles all throughout my body, goosebumps raising all over my body. The heat from before rearing its head. Damian fell into the last open seat. Jisung pulled out floor cushions, settling down on one, with his back against the the chaise of the couch. 

He pulled my hand down, moving me to settle in between his legs as he spread them. One leg bent, foot flat on the floor, the other outstretched, making the muscle of his thighs prominent. He reached under the coffee table, pulling a folded up throw to place it over my lap, being more mindful of the fact that I was in a skirt than I was. His hand finally coming to rest on my covered thighs, the other wrapping around my waist to keep me secured to him. I nestled further into the space as Jisung began to introduce his friends to me and vice versa. 

Minho, the short, black-haired stoic-looking friend began rolling another joint, his eyes flashing to mine with a wink as Jisung said his name, causing me to grin back at him. There was something about the way he moved, slowly almost, eyes sleepy. The bleached buzz-cut friend, or Hyunjin, smirked at Jisung, his eyebrow raising in turn. He seemed to glow, the air around him somehow reminding me early spring. 

“You must be who pulled our Jisungie away from us.”

‘Jisungie’ stuttered behind me, his hands clenching in their hold on me. 

“Aww, I didn’t realize Jisungie already mentioned me!”

Minho snorted, licking the last of the blunt as he met my gaze. 

“He messed up three drinks too busy watching you.”

I turned my head to look at Jisung, eyes sparkling with laughter, mouth twitching into a smile. 

“Did you really?”

He furrowed his brows, glare stinging as he stared Minho down. 

“Barely,” he grumbled as I giggled, hand coming up to cover my mouth, Damian and Hyunjin snorting in laughter. Minho smirked, lighting the blunt and taking a hit before passing it to Hyunjin. 

“If it’s any consolation, I got groped while trying to get his attention, so I think we both learned our lesson,” I watched as all the men in room grew tense, their brows furrowing. Jisung tightened his grip on me, the deep breaths he took moved me on his chest. 

“I promise, _______, that shit won’t ever happen again in our club,” Hyunjin shook his head as he continued the blunt rotation to Damian. “I’m sorry it even happened in the first place, but don’t worry he’s banned.” 

Minho hummed, cracking his fist as he stood up to grab a drink from the bar. Even from the short interaction with Minho, the air around him was intimidating, heavy, almost like a blanket. 

“I shouldn’t have left you for even a second, babes!” 

Damian leaned down, passing it to me now. I shook my head not seeing how Damian could blame, taking a hit, breathing it back up my nose. I was about to turn my head to the side, fingers lightly gripped my chin, turning my head towards Jisung, lips opening in surprise and releasing smoke in his awaiting parted ones. My eyes were wide as I stared at his hooded ones, the furrow in his brows still present showing me how much the situation had frustrated him.

He leaned back, eyes still on me as he exhaled from his nose. I played with his chain, shaking my head firmly again. 

“Nah, it’s no ones, but that perverts fault. I allowed him to dance with me and he crossed the line, he should’ve just felt lucky to have danced with me!” 

“Exactly!” Minho slammed the shot glass down after his proclamation, sucking in air through his teeth. “Fucking bitch ass probably an insecure cunt who’s dick’s so-“

“Alright dude,” Hyunjin shakes his head as he grabs the blunt from me. Minho rounds the couch five glasses filled this time that he lays on the table. 

“No let him finish! Asshole deserves it!” I lean forward, hand raised for a high-five which Minho gladly gives. I then reach for a glass, slap the shot on the table and throw it back, lips scrunching up at the taste. Jisung’s thumb wipes the excess that dribbled down my chin and sucks his finger.

“Okay, you two can relax,” Minho groans, stealing the blunt from Damian before he could pass it to me. “Nah, as punishment, we’re skipping you two.”

“Hey!” I pouted and turned to Jisung in shock, crossing my arms. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

Jisung gaped at me as I stood up from the between his legs, bringing the blanket with me to go on the other side of the coffee table. It was Jisung’s turn to pout, sending another seething look towards Minho as he passed the blunt to me now. For a moment, I could have sworn it looked like his eyes had changed colors, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the decorative lights of the room. 

I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long drag. 

“Sweetness, weren’t you just begging to hold my hand?” I began to cough, smoke creating a cloud around me as I covered my face with my arm. I could hear the cackle of Damian and threw up a middle finger. A body settled near me, a large hand patted me on the back as Hyunjin placed a cup of water down in front of me. 

I looked up to see Jisung, who sends me a cheeky wink, bringing the glass to my lips. He continues to rub my back as I chug the water. Hyunjin grabs the remote, turning the television on to put a Christmas movie on. 

“Jack Frost, the 1979 version! Do that one, that one’s my favorite!” I point when he just passes the old cartoon movie. I can see from peripheral Minho and Hyunjin turn to make a face at Jisung who had moved towards the bar to pour a drink. He shook his head slightly, finger tapping his lip. Hyunjin plays it, grabbing the other blankets from under the coffee table to pass them around. 

“Is the club still open?” Damian asked, as he wrapped himself up in his blanket. 

Minho nodded his head, taking another shot glass. 

“We stay open all day on Christmas, but that’s also because we have a select group that comes and spends today with us.”

“A select group?” I look over at him as Jisung comes back around, grabbing the floor cushion to slide back towards me. He sits down, dragging me to sit on his lap, blanket covering our lower halves. I turn to look at Jisung in shock who merely shrugs and turns his attention to the movie. 

“Basically it’s like a private member only club that we happen to host here every Christmas.”

“How do you become a member?” Damian crossed in his legs, sitting up intrigued now. 

“It’s kind of based on their job?” 

“What kind of job? I have a job!” I sit up in Jisung’s lap, hands squeezing at the arm wrapped around me. 

“Not just any job, Sweetness,” Jisung chuckled behind me and rubbed a hand up and down my back. “Think maybe more life long jobs, passed down in a very specific way.”

“So nepotism?” 

Minho busted out laughing as Hyunjin snorted. Jisung shook from laughter underneath me. Damian and I shared a confused look, both of our heads tilting to the side. I look at Jisung once again, eyebrow raising as he sobered up, hands tightening their grip on me as he bit his lip. 

“Yea, Sweetness, something like that.”

I hummed, understanding that it was possibly a touchy subject and decided to drop it. Fanning the blanket to cover us more, I turned my head sideways to focus back on the movie. I felt Jisung’s cold nose rub lightly by my temple before shifting his attention to the TV as well. 

It was about half an hour or more into the movie and all of us, excluding Damian who had fallen asleep, groaned when Sir Rightfellow came on. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe she picked this douche over Jack!” I grumbled, arms crossing as Jisung moved us forward to pass Minho the joint that Hyunjin had rolled a few minutes prior. Minho’s eyes flash to behind me, a smirk present once again on his face.

“You don’t say?” I look behind me to catch Jisung shaking his head before he stops himself, smiling at me. “Are you implying you would have been Jack Frost’s bride?” I turn back to Minho with a ‘duh’ look on my face. 

“Jack Frost is by far better, although, I wouldn’t want him to have to turn human. I’d be chill just being his as he is.” 

I felt Jisung stiffen under me but paid no mind as I sat up further. 

“Also, like I wish Jack would’ve just said something, you know? Like ‘hey, I saved your life’ or I don’t know just say your ‘Old Man Winter’!”

“I am not Old Man Winter!” Jisung shot back and I whipped around to face, mouth open. Minho hissed as Hyunjin chortled. I shook my head surprised by the scowl on his face. 

“I- I know you’re not…” When the scowl on his face didn’t lessen, the pout prominent, I felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. “I’m sorry, Jisung, Jack Frost isn’t Old Man Winter?”

I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I also couldn’t help but feel confused as to why he seemed so offended. His eyes widened once he realized his outburst and he turned his head to cough. 

“I- I mean they’re two different people you know? Old Man Winter is the god of Winter, I’m- Jack Frost is winter you know? They’re completely different…” 

“Smooth,” Minho mutters, causing Hyunjin to laugh even harder.

I nodded my head, as he finished, hands rubbing his chest to calm him. 

“You’re right, Ji, they’re totally different, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jisung stared at me for a second before moving to stand to his feet, grabbing my hands to bring me with him. 

“Come with me?” I nodded as he began to lead me towards the door I had seen earlier. He lifted a two-finger salute towards the boys as I turned to wave at them. 

“Merry Christmas!” They smiled at me and called back to me, returning to the still-lit joint. Jisung pulled me through the door, closing it behind me. 

“Wow!” I take in the silvery Christmas decorations, stepping further into the dark, cold bedroom, lit by the white lights. I walked towards the frosted windows, gasping at how real the frost looked like. I look at the bedroom, the fluffy dark blue sheets looking incredibly inviting. My eyes trailed to the bookshelf, littered with different books, games, and photographs. 

One photo caught my eye in particular, it was Jisung, Minho, Hyunjin, that security guard Chan, and a few others that I didn’t know. What really caught my attention was how they were all dressed. Chan was dressed as Santa Claus, Minho in robes and a floppy hat with what looked like a cotton ball. Hyunjin had on a crisp white suit, in his hand a woven basket. I trailed my eyes over the picture, stopping at the darkly dressed Jisung. He looked normal if the frosty blue color of his eyes didn’t give him away. 

I hear his footsteps as he approaches me slowly. I turn to face him, the question clear on my face. 

“Is- hmm how should I ask this?” Jisung moved to sit on the bed, hands moving behind him as he leaned back. I could tell he was trying to appear indifferent, but his shoulders seemed tense, and his mouth tight. “Are you guys like.. a bunch of role-players or something?”

Jisung fell back into the bed laughing heartily, I smacked my teeth at him and moved to climb onto his lap, chuckling at the cute expression on his face, happy to see him relaxing. His eyes were closed, mouth open wide. His laugh gave me rich man vibes, leaving me to shiver in its wake. Fuck, he was too attractive. He sat back up, his blue hair shining under the silvery white Christmas lights. 

His hands came up to grip my thighs, my skirt rucked up dangerously now between. My hands came to rest on his arms. 

“What? I feel like it was a valid question!” Jisung snorted, his eyes full of amusement. 

“It was, it was,” he pats my butt, sliding his hand up my back slowly. “No, we aren’t role-players.” 

“Then they’re the nepo babies you mentioned, right?” He laughed again, nodding his head as I smirked triumphantly. “But why are you in it? You’re a nepotism baby too? And why are you all dressed like that?”

“Relax, Sweetness, I’m gonna answer your questions-“ I stood from his lap suddenly, going back to the picture and picking it up to bring it closer to my face. It was like the thought was not yet done forming, but my mind was going wild. There is just something about them, something in the look and the photo itself looked old almost. My brain racks through our conversations throughout the night. 

There’s… no way…

I slowly bring the picture down, eyes flashing to him and then back to the photo. He hadn’t moved from his seat, yet his eyes changed from the playfulness from before to anxiety? Fear? Hope? I couldn’t tell with the bubbling confusion and denial already making itself known inside of me. 

“You-“ I stop myself looking back at the picture, there’s just no way. I place the picture back down and look at Jisung, schooling my face. “Are you fucking with me or something? Like is this something that you do?”

“Wait, huh?” 

“The whole ‘Jack Frost’ thing, I mean having us watch the movie-“

“Okay well hold on, you wanted to watch-“

“And then your reaction to being called ‘Old Man Winter’,” Jisung’s face immediately turned cloudy, his mouth dropping open to disagree. I held up a finger to his lips, my eyes blazing. 

“I mean look at your room, Jisung, it’s not subtle!” My arms are outstretched to my side at this point, one hand still holding the photograph. “Is this why you guys stay open? Are you like some Christmas sex club? Members can pick their favorite character or something”

Jisung paused, the finger he had in the air to interrupt, bent at the knuckles. The lips twitched up, his eyes filling with laughter. 

“I-“

“And what makes you think I would choose Jack Frost! What if I was more into Cupid, hmm?”

Jisung scoffed, arms crossing over his chest, looking off to the side with a pout on his lips. 

“Changbin wouldn’t even know how to handle you,” I look back at him, eyebrows furrowed. I realized He.. actually thinks he’s Jack Frost. I glance at the picture again and back towards him. 

I can’t possibly believe this.

Can I?

“You-“ I cleared my throat, his head turning towards me, but his eyes remained on the floor, pout still present. “You’re really Jack Frost.”

Jisung’s eyes met mine now, the seriousness on his face taking me by surprise. 

“I am.”

The finality of his voice struck me to the cord. Jisung stood up from his seat moving towards the window, he glanced over at me before closing his eyes and blowing on the glass panes. I watch in amazement as frost leaves his pursed lips, the ice growing further on the panes. The room’s temperature drops further as more ice leaves his mouth. He stops, eyes opening revealing the icy blue color from the photo. 

I gape in shock, slowly sinking to the floor, eyes flashing between him and the window. 

“Y-you.. you’re Jack Frost,” one hand covers my mouth, the other falling flat on the floor next to the picture that continued to glare up at me. “Fuck, you’re really.. you..”

A hand slowly comes in my vision, moving my hand away from my mouth before tilting my face upwards with a finger under my chin. The icy blue in his eyes remained as he hesitantly crept closer. Oddly enough, his touch continued to feel warm to me even in the freezing room. Goosebumps rose on my body as our eyes met.

“I’m Jack Frost.”

“You’re Jack Frost.”

We both continued to stare at each other as our words sank in. I should run, I should leave and never look back. I was just drunk, high, maybe he drugged me! I mentally shook my head at that, knowing that this man had seemed so sincere in the interactions we had. My hand glides up his that’s still holding my chin, clenching the black fabric of his sleeve and pulling him down as I pushed up. 

Our lips met in a bruising force, teeth almost clanking together at how desperately we gripped at each other. The heat in my core multiplied as Jisung’s hands went to both of my cheeks, fingers spreading to reach into my hair as we pushed closer. My arms squeezed his arms, hands moving to wrap around his neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at my lips, hands moving my head the way he wanted. 

He pulled away suddenly, lifting me to my feet and walking us back towards the bed. I raised on to my tip toes, thankful I had taken my shoes off again once we started the movie. I move my hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down to take a nip at his nose. He groaned, setting me on top of lap, bringing our cores flushed against each other. 

I could feel the tent beginning to form on his pants, growing more as we continued to devour each other. His lips trailed down my neck, teeth biting at the flesh. I moan unabashedly, moving my hips over his to feel any type of friction. By now, my skirt was over my hips, underwear on full display. His hands kneading at the skin of my ass, shaking the extra flesh in his fingers. 

“Fuck me, Sweetness,” Jisung continued to bite at me, going farther down to the tops of breasts, tongue coming out to lick the swell of my left one. Without warning, he bite down roughly, causing me to shriek and grind harder on his growing length, mouth salivating. 

“Yes, Ji!” He hums as he takes another bite from the top of my right tit, tongue soothing the skin in his mouth. I groan, one hand fisting at the back of his shirt, the other gripping his hair, pushing his head closer to my breasts. Jisung pulled away, smirking at the bite marks he had left on me, before pursing his lips and blowing the softest cold air on them. 

I gasped, chest heaving, hips moving erratically over his. One of his hands moved from my ass to trail up the front of my body, fingers grazing the fresh marks. I whimpered as they pressed into the bruised skin, eyes flashing up to meet his. 

Words couldn’t be used to describe the look we exchanged. It was overwhelming and all too consuming. Our breaths mingled in the space between us, noses brushing against each other. I came to a startling reality that I would gladly give him anything, but more importantly, I wanted him. I wanted to see this man again after tonight, and the night after. I wanted to be a part of him. 

“I want you, Jack Frost.”

It was Jisung’s turn to whimper, his eyes looking so absolutely soft. He leaned towards me, lips meeting mine in a slow dance. Our tongues dragged against the other, licking into each others mouths lazily. Jisung moved us to side to lay me under him on the bed. Him coming to rest flush against me, legs caging his waist. His hard length rutted against my core, both us hissing from the contact. 

“I want you, Sweetness,” his eyes holding a question as his fingers fiddled with the ends of my top. I nodded my head, fingers moving to pull the top over my head before he even had the opportunity. Hands not having dropped yet, are suddenly pinned above my head, top tangled in my hands. Jisung wraps his lips around one of my erect nipples, teeth scraping and sucking harshly. 

He switched to the other side, giving it the same abuse until he was satisfied. Lifting his head to gaze at the red, swollen buds, the bites of his teeth indented in the skin. He blew his soft icy air at them, a breathy sigh escaping me from the contrast of temperatures happening on my body. 

The slickness of the my underwear had to be evident as Jisung continued to press and grind his hips into me. His fingers and lips moved down my body, teeth needing to bite and leave a mark as me made his way down my stomach to my bunched up skirt. Jisung begins to tug my skirt down my legs, lifting off the bed so that was standing before me. He held my socked feet, lifting them up to his face to place a kiss on the clothed toes. 

I tried jerking them back, laughing at the tickle of cool air on them, but he held on tighter. 

“Sweetness, the way you were dressed today took my breath away and I already wanted you, but when I saw these socks, I knew I was going to have you. I think I’m wrapped around your finger, is that possible?”

I wiggled my toes at him, arching one of my feet to touch at his chest and push at him. 

“Yes… I’m wrapped around yours,” Jisung placed a final kiss to the arch of my foot, sliding fingers under the fabric to pull it off. He did the same with the other foot, before holding them together to kiss each toes, teeth taking small nips at them. I pouted at the black shirt still on him, dying to have a feel of his skin. 

I trail a foot down, going under his shirt to touch the hard planes of his stomach. He hisses as my toes make contact with his skin before he is shucking his shirt of his body. The honey skin fills my vision, my mouth and cunt watering at the sight. His chest heaved as he stared down at me, eyes still icy blue but dark with desire. 

His hands go to the button of his slacks, pushing them down until he’s left in dark blue boxers. Jisung spreads my legs, pushing them up body as he blows cool air on my covered cunt, the fabric doing nothing to hide the constant flow of arousal dripping out of me. He leaned the last inch forward, biting at my folds, tongue laving the clothed folds. 

I whine, hands moving down to my tits, pulling roughly at my bitten nipples. Jisung continued to suck and bite at my slit, hands moving to tug me closer, as if he’s trying to suffocate himself. I almost wail when his fingers begin to slide the wet fabric down all while he blew soft cool air. 

He dives back in, tongue trailing up from my puckered hole to my cunt, trying to catch as much of my essence as he could. He leans back and spits at my clit, drawing a whine from me at the filthy display. 

“Sweetness was the perfect name, you taste so good, best fucking pussy,” he slurred against me, eyes hooded as he looked at me. I was up, leaning back on my elbows to watch him, bottom lip caught between my teeth. I slide my hand down, fingers touching at my clit as he continues to suck on me, his tongue grazing the tips of my nails. “So fucking wet, precious, you’re dripping.”

“Only for you, Mr. Frost,” he brings my fingers into his mouth, biting down on them. The icy blue intensified and the room grew even colder as he fingers teased at my entrance, his other hand gripping tightly at the inside of my thigh. 

“Ask me for it, ________.”

The roughness of his voice had my pussy clenching, my hole desperate for him to fill it. I moved my hips, a pout painting itself on my face. 

“Please Jisung-“  the words barely left before his finger is inside, curling and beginning a steady rhythm. The squelching noise was obscene as I threw my head back, toes curling from the pleasure. “Yes, baby, don’t stop, more, Ji, more!”

A second finger was soon add, the pumping in side of me increased, leaving me panting and desperate. My hips move on their own accord, meeting his pumping fingers thrust for thrust. 

“More, Sweetness? You can take can’t you? Such a good girl, shitting on Sir Rightfellow huh?” I whimper, hole clenching tightly around his fingers causing him to release a hiss as he went harder. “Fuck Sweets, you were just begging for me, huh? Needed some ice in you?”

Each question is asked with a forceful thrust of his fingers, leaving me weak and seeing snowflakes in my vision. 

“Oh- yes, Sungie, harder,” I gasped as it felt like the temperature of his fingers changed, the coldness against my heated walls almost bringing me to the edge. My head went to the side, the pleasure of it all becoming too much and for a moment my eyes grazed the picture that lay on the floor forgotten. A thought suddenly passing through me as Jisung continued his assault, his mouth having joined his fingers. His tongue slurping messily, teeth continuing to nip any bit of skin he could. 

“W-wait, Ji-“ Jisung immediately pulled his head away, fingers halting as his eyes flashed to mine, concern evident. 

“What’s wrong?”

“If Chan was here tonight, how did he deliver presents?”

Jisung huffed, his head falling back. “There’s no way you’re fucking asking me about that now?” Jisung continued to pump his fingers lazily, mouth reattaching itself to my slick folds. I gasped, his tongue ice cold as he lapped at me. 

“But I’m serious! Australia is like hours- wait… OH!” A strong suck and teeth biting my clit has me pausing, the air from lungs taken all at once. “Timezones duh! But still, ah- fuck- it doesn’t make sense!”

I shrieked as Jisung bit roughly at my inner thigh, fingers curling and beginning a punishing speed inside of me. 

“Sweets, please, stop talking about him.”

“I’m s-sorry, Ji, I have- OH FUCK ME!” I yelp, my thighs clamping around his head as he suddenly shoved his tongue inside my aching hole. My vision goes black as I yelled out his name. Jisung continues his never-ending assault, lapping furiously at me to make sure he didn’t miss a drop. He was whining, hands shoving me closer to him, gripping tightly his knuckles turned white. 

My body continued to shake as Jisung kissed up my body, admiring the littered teeth marks he left on me body. My eyes opened, meeting his, shock running through me at his wet face. My mouth dropped open, hand coming up to cover my mouth. 

“Did I..?”

Jisung swipes a hand over his face, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth to suck on them. His other hand trails down his own body, jerking his covered dick. His gaze is dark as he slips his hand inside, pumping his length as he looked at me. 

“Yes, you did, sweets, squirted all over me, fucking hot as fuck,” Jisung whines, climbing over me after he shoved his boxers down his legs, yanking his own socks off. “I need to have you now, baby, please?” 

Jisung came to hover over me, his hands coming to rest on either sides of my body, blue hair tickling my forehead as he leaned down to ghost his lips over mine. 

I sucked in a breath, hands running up his chest, scratching at his skin, desperate to leave me own mark. I bite his bottom lip, tugging at it roughly, sucking it into my mouth. His hard erection bumped against my folds, leaving us to whine and pant into each others mouths. 

“Please fuck me, Mr. Frost.”

Jisung shivers above, kissing me softly before lifting off of me to reach inside of the nightstand. I lock my ankles around his waist, arms circling around his neck to bring his attention back to me. Eyebrows furrowed, I shook my head at Jisung, my hand reaching down to grab his dick. My fist jerked him up and down, enjoying the way his mouth fell open, bottom lip jutting out completely. 

“I said, fuck me, Jisung,” his hand met mine, circling around my fist, nudging his tip against my clit, the wetness easily allowing him to slide against me. Jisung nudged my hand away, fingers interlocking with mine as he brought them above my head. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against me until the tip of his length caught my sopping area. 

 Jisung quickly sank in, both moaning loudly at the connection. I could feel my eyes begin to water, Jisung’s head dropping in the crook of my neck, teething at the area. Our hips moved in tandem, Jisung taking deep, slow thrusts, making me feel every inch of his dick inside of me. I clenched around him, eyes nearly rolling back at the tight feel and causing Jisung to bite even harder. 

I feel barely coherent as I try to meet his hips, thrust for thrust, hand still clutched in his. I turned my head, lifting up to suck on the skin of the arm holding my hand down. Jisung’s hips stuttered against me, head lifting from my neck as I bite at his arm, tongue coming out to lave at the skin, soothing the redness around the teeth marks. A string of spit connecting me to his arm had him rutting into me harshly, his hands now moving to stretch my legs to the side, pinning my hips down. 

I cry out, hands grabbing onto his biceps for support as he thrusted into me wildly. It was like as someone was gliding an ice cube inside me before the temperature returned to normal, Jisung a groaning, whimpering mess above me, mouth open as the icy blue of his eyes doubled, almost making them white. I gasped as his body seemed to go back and forth from being warm to cold, as if he wasn’t able to control his supernatural abilities. 

“Let go for me, Frost, l-let me see you,” Jisung’s eyes found mine, a vulnerability in them that left me shook to my core. I smiled softly at him, my eyes still watery from the pleasure. Jisung’s mouth opened, most likely to argue, but I placed a finger over them, shaking my head, eyes imploring him. “Please?”

Jisung eyes remained the same, except he continued his deep thrusting, eyes not leaving mine as his body became cold, the length inside of me feeling like an icicle. His skin unable to cool the fire burning in me as I raked my hand through his blue locks, pulling him down so our lips met. Tongues sliding into each others mouth, teeth trying to nip, sucking when we could, spit dripping from our mouths. 

The air around us seemed to fill with snowflakes and yet everywhere he touched me burned. The burn of his hand against my stomach, pushing in to feel the burning of his length inside me. 

“You’re so good to me, sweets, aren’t you?” Jisung cooed at me, lips moving towards down to my chest. He teethes at my nipples again, fingers pinching where he couldn’t bite. “Letting me fuck this pretty pussy, you were begging to be fucked by Jack Frost, weren’t you baby?”

“Ahh, yes- nugh, wanted you from the second I s-saw- ohhh fuck, Ji, I- I’m close,” I whimpered my head digging into the soft mattress under me. Jisung’s eyebrows were pinched together, his lips bruised, but blue? The color matching his hair. 

“You’re close, sweets?” he pouted at me, he pumped harder, his breathing ragged. “Wanna cum with you, baby, hmm? You wanna cum with me, don’t you?” I’m nodding my head, his fingers holding my neck in a light pressure. I would want to do anything with him if it meant we’d come back together like this. That I would see him again.

“Please, Ji, please, please.”

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, do it.” 

The burst of white around us became so intense, I felt myself go limp, eyes rolling back as Jisung continued to pump into me through the orgasm. I couldn’t even say if any noises left me as I felt myself succumbing to the pleasure, the ice inside of me creating a deep fire within me, bursting out of me. Without a second of peace, I could feel the explosion of Jisung’s orgasm, the icy full feeling causing another wave to crash over me, clenching around him tightly to milk everything out of him. 

Jisung groaned deeply above, hips driving it to me as we rode our pleasure together. The wild sounds coming from his lips fall muffled to my ears, still ringing as I struggled to come down from the high. I could vaguely feel Jisung slowly slip from me, hand coming to touch my swollen center, fingers slipping in my drenched hole to push our shared cum back inside of me. He settled next to me, fingers still inside me, but wrapping his free arm around my waist to bring me closer to him. 

“You did so good, sweets, so good for me,” Jisung noses at my ear, whispering praises into my ear to bring me back to him. The hand not in me, caressing my skin, the coolness of his touch grounding me. I hummed, turning my head into his chest, hands tracing his chest and stomach. 

“I’ll be good for you, Jisung,” I murmured into his cold skin, a small smile gracing my face when I felt his lips touch my forehead. A nice blanket of exhaustion washes over me, my body immediately relaxing despite the coldness of the room. I remembered whining when he finally took his fingers from me, body lifting from the bed, taking the comforting cold with him. 

I was on the depths of sleep when I could feel something warm and slightly rough wipe gently at the wetness in between my legs, before was that lotion on my legs? I blinked up lazily, moving to try and sit up as I watched him apply lotion to my legs so carefully, hands kneading at my thighs and calves. 

“Sungie…” 

His eyes flashed to me holding so much affection, so soft that I wanted to cry. He leaned his head down, bringing his lips to the inside of my knee as he finished the last of the lotion, but continuing to rub his hands on my skin. 

“Sweets, I think I’ll have to keep you.” 

It was quiet for a beat, the weight of his words settling. I watched as Jisung almost shrunk into himself, as if his confession would cause me to run away screaming. I furrowed my brows at him, his eyes stuck to my legs, lips barely moving from where they rested on my skin. I sit up, hands grasping at his arms to pull him towards me, pushing him down to lay down on the bed, head nestled against the pillows. He watched me with an unreadable gaze, yet his body pliant to every touch I made. I pulled the blanket from under us, making sure it covered us both completely. 

“Keep me then.”

Falling asleep with Jisung felt familiar and strange. The coldness should’ve bothered me, the coolness of skin should have alarmed me, but I only felt peace as I slipped away, eyes closing. If only I had noticed him watching me, noticed the way he went into himself again, maybe I could’ve prevented it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I gasped awake, the heat of the room becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as I stumbled from my bed. I rushed towards the kitchen, opening the freezer to grab an ice pack, moaning as it touched my skin. My eyes watering wondering when I wouldn’t feel the desire to do this anymore, but truthfully never wanting the cold to leave, wanting it to stay permanently engrained to my skin. 

It had been days since Christmas, four days actually since I woke up back in my room, alone and hot. I hate it. I missed him, desperate to see him again, but it appeared as though it was a dream. The club seemed to have vanished, no search engine finding the magical winter club. My one and only attempt to ask Damian had me blanching, it was as if his memory was erased, the only thing he could tell me was that he had one of the best night’s sleeps he’s ever had. 

I stood in my bathroom, naked in front of the mirror as I dragged my fingers down my body, tracing over every teeth mark and bruise left over. The largest marks being on my breasts, nipples still raw, begging for the same abuse. I could feel him still on my body, feel him come inside of me, the ice cold sensation something I will never be able to forget.

Each passing day brought me closer to insanity, the overwhelming need to be surrounded and engulfed by coldness becoming too much. Damian had murmured his concerns before he was set to leave to spend a few days at his, let’s refer to him as his special friend, who had returned home the day before from visiting their own family. Damian had said it was too early to spend holidays together which left me rolling my eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be good?” He eyed my from the door as he finished shrugging his jacket on. I was wearing a large hoodie over my pajamas, feet covered in my new pair of Jack Frost socks, an impulse buy from two days prior that I even spent for same day shipping. I had successfully hid every mark from Damian, thankful I lived on the top floor of our home, free to dress how I wanted and needed to. I had just pulled an ice pack from the freezer, placing it behind my neck as I turned to wave him off. 

“I promise, I’ll be okay, I think I just might be coming down with something,” I shrugged and threw myself on the couch, turning the television on to put the Jack Frost movie on. I heard Damian groan from behind, most likely tired of watching this movie as I’ve replayed it about 15 times in the last 3 days. 

“Uh huh.. well I’ll be back after New Years, call me if you need me okay?” His gaze was worried, but he shot me a soft smile that I returned. 

“I will, have fun! Tell Tris I said hi!” He calls out a last goodbye as he shuts the door to our townhouse, locking it behind him. The smile on my face drops as I turn back to the movie, ice pack falling onto my lap as I stared blankly. I pull the large hoodie off my body, gasping finally once the heat left my body, dying to feel cold. I had opted to wearing a Christmas themed pajamas set, a tank top with a snowflake in the middle and shorts littered with them. Each day my clothing had become more revealing, trying to find the cold again. Damian had refused to let me put the AC on, stating that even if it wasn’t super cold outside, he wouldn’t allow me to turn the house into a freezer. 

It wasn’t until the movie was almost done that I realized I was crying. The bottom lip quivering as I watch Jack blow the cold air over Elisa’s bouquet. A loud sob bursts forth before I can stop it and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Was I sick? How could I feel so much for a stranger in just a night? Why did it have to be him? 

I longed to regret that night, to forget it the way Damian could. Erase it from my memory just as the club seemed to have vanished into thin air. I could try and hate it, hate every second of that night. Of him. Of how he made me feel, how he touched me. But nothing could take away the way he looked at me. A look full of longing and hope, as if he finally found what he was looking for. 

I sank down off the couch, bringing the ice pack up to my face as I continued to cry. The coldness of the pack numbing the burning of my face. My chest heaves for air as I curled up into a ball, laying on my side. My eyes shut, my body shaking as I let myself finish releasing my emotions. I felt empty and more alone than ever, fingers tightening their grip around the ice pack, holding it against my chest now. 

I close my eyes, no longer caring if I finish the movie. The carpet rough on my cheek as I sniffed and brought a fist to wipe my tears. 

“Fuck you, Jisung, for making me cry,” I pout and toss the ice pack away from me. I sat up, bringing my knees up to my chest, looking off to the side at the window. I laid my head against my knees, arms wrapping around my legs. 

“I miss you, Mr. Frost,” pout becoming more prominent, I shut my eyes, tired of seeing windows without fresh frost on them. The ending song of the movie begins to play when I notice that the temperature of the room seemed to drop. For the first time in days, I shivered, the cold nipping at my nose, causing me to blink my eyes open in confusion. 

Icy blue orbs met mine, full of guilt, sadness, and desperation. My mouth fell open, eyes unable to stay put long enough on just one part of his handsome face. His blue hair framing his honey skin that seemed to have bits of frost decorating him so beautifully, so perfectly. Fuck him. 

“I missed you too, sweets,” I don’t respond, don’t move, just continue to stare. I can feel my chest begin to heave as I become desperate for air, the frostiness around us somehow providing the comfort I had been desperately seeking for days. Jisung slowly brought his hand to my cheek, eyes full of sadness, blue lips parting as he could see the dried tear streaks. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You said you would keep me.”

“I.. I know, sweets.”

Jisung hung his head, hand still holding my cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, moving my legs out of the circle of my arms, crossing them as I crossed my arms in front of me. 

“Well?”

“I-“ Jisung audibly gulped and shifted from his crouched position, sinking to the floor to mirror me. “I talked to Chan-“

“Santa!” The glower immediately became present, his eyes narrowing at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly schooled his reaction, sending me a sheepish smile, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Yea.. Santa.. well I talked to him.. well about you and it’s just-“ Jisung cleared his throat, fingers raking through the blue locks holding onto them. “It’s not often that we meet people and the Man on the Moon can be really particular and Mother Nature can’t always sway him sometimes, he can be a bitch sometimes- Wait, no!” His head shot towards the window, eyes wide as if the Man on the Moon was going to storm in the room. “I mean I’m extremely grateful to him because I wouldn’t be me, Jack Frost, if it weren't for him, but, it’s a lot. Being what we are, what I am. I thought it was just the heat of the moment-“ I snorted causing Jisung to pause. 

“I don’t remember there being much heat, but okay,” he chuckles now, the hand he had on my cheek moving down my arm. Jisung turns to me again, eyes full of hope and affection. 

“You know what I mean, I just- got in my head, but truthfully, Sweets, I missed you. So so much and I’m also just Jisung and your just _______ and I really, really just want to be with you.. I’m sorry I had left you for so long, I shouldn’t have.”

I continued to stare at him, trying so hard to not give any emotions away as he finished. The pit of hope blooming inside of me, he came back for me, he does want me. He was a stranger, he doesn’t know me and I only know Jack Frost, not Jisung. It would be ridiculous to begin anything with him. Insane even. 

“Are you going to leave me again?”

Jisung immediately shook his head, hands grasping at mine, bringing them up to his lips. I couldn’t contain the shiver once his cold lips grazed my knuckles, easing the heat that I’ve grown to hate.

“No, I won’t.”

I stared at him for a moment before pulling my hands from his grasp and standing to my feet, walking around him. 

“Can’t believe you stopped holding my hand,” I grumble, stopping towards the kitchen to pour a glass of water. 

“Sweets, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to,” Jisung follows me pouting, the cloud of frost following him, falling into my cup as he crowds into my space. “I would’ve kept my fingers inside of your tight pussy forever if you’d let me.”

I gasp, slapping his chest. “Jisung!”

“What?” He laughed, smile bright as I leaned into him not realizing, taking a sip of my water as I roll my eyes at him. “But I promise you, Sweets, I mean it, I want you.”

His hands rests on my hips as I keep my gaze focused on my water. 

“Are you asking me to be your Suzy Snowflake?” Jisung snorted, forehead coming to rest on mine. He grabbed the glass from my hand, placing it behind me on the counter. His hand returns to my hip, sliding it to my lower back to pull me flush against him. 

“You think Suzy holds a candle to you?” I blush, hands coming to rest on his chest, taking in his outfit for the first time. A black suit, with a black button up and tie. Fuck did he look so good. I was ready to forgive him completely. His feet were in just socks, even if invisible to anyone else, still took his shoes off at the door. I bite my lip, fingers going to his tie as his hand on my lower back went further down, resting on my ass, squeezing. “Sweets, you’ve ruined me completely, don’t you know that?” 

I stretch up on my toes, lips just barely grazing his before I pulled away. A million questions bubbling in my mind. Hold on now.

“Wait, how did you know where I live?” Jisung blushes now, a shy pouty look on his face. I tilt my head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he mumbled so slow I couldn’t hear. “Jisung, how?”

He drops his head on my shoulder, leaning his weight against me, pushing me into the counter. 

“Chan and Felix told me, they thought it would be creepy if I showed up like this, but you don’t think it’s creepy right? I’m not creepy?” His eyes go wide, huge boba looking orbs as he puffs his cheeks. My hands tighten their hold on his tie. 

Fuck me. 

“No, baby you aren’t creepy,” Jisung melted into me, wrapping his arms completely around me now to lift me off my feet. The crisp coldness washes over me and I grip onto his shoulders, savoring it. Jisung’s lips touch my neck dragging a shiver out of me as he starts to nibble. “Who’s Felix?”

Jisung groans, not moving from my neck, but rather taking a rough bite. I yelp, hand trailing up to his hair to scratch his scalp. “Jisung, be nice to me! I know Santa now.”

A hand quickly swats at my ass, pulling a shriek from me as Jisung hauls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Jisung snorts as I pout at him, his hand rubbing where he hit. 

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I just wanna know your friends, baby,” I jut my lip further out at him as he leads us back towards the living room. He sits down on the couch, making sure I am settled comfortably on his lap. His hands rubbing at my bare thighs, goosebumps raising all over. Cold surrounding us completely, he stares at me, eyes intense. 

“I like your socks.”

My eyes widen in surprise before giggling as I glance down to where his fingers reach out to graze them.

“I bought them for you.”

He doesn’t respond, but a smile grows on his face, proud and shy. He pinches at my heel, tightening the hand on my thigh when I giggle again, face falling into the crook of his neck. It’s quiet for a moment, frost settling around us before I raise up again, grinning sheepishly.

“So.. who’s Felix?” Jisung barks out a laughter, eyebrows furrowing as he fake glares at me. 

“You should only care about me! Don’t ask about them, why do you need to know? Are you trying to get with them?”

He crosses his arms and I chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck to press kisses around his face, the last one a gentle touch to his lips. Jisung whimpers under me, wrapping an arm around my waist, the other hand moving down to my ass. We press closer together, mouths opening to for our tongues to meeting.

We moan in sync, the cold touch of his tongue erasing the mountain of loneliness that I had felt for days. It felt so right, every inch of my body covered in frost, as we pulled each other closer, his teeth biting at my mouth. With one last nip on my bottom lip, we separate, a string of spit connecting our lips. His thumb swipes at it, sucking on his appendage for our shared liquid. I shiver in his lap, my hands cradling his cheeks, thumb swiping over them. 

“You’re so silly, Mr. Frost, I thought it was obvious I only want you,” Jisung blushes, hands falling to my hips, rubbing circles in time with the strokes I made on his cheeks. 

“I only want you too,” I giggle, rubbing my noses on his. “And to answer your question, Felix is…” Jisung trails off, looking to the side with a pout. “The Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy!” I jump in his lap, hands falling on his shoulders as I stare at him wonder. Jisung hisses, his hands clenching them on my thighs as I wiggled on top of him. “I can’t believe you know the Tooth Fairy, you’re so cool,” Jisung smirks at me as he shrugs, doing his best to appear nonchalant, but the tips of ears turning red gives him away. His hands knead my ass, pulling me flush against him. 

“I mean, it is pretty cool. We have the club as a way for us to convene-“

“Hey, wait- I’m sorry to interrupt, but speaking of the club! Where the fuck did it go?” 

He winces, nodding his head in understanding. “Okay yea, that’s my bad, I totally spaced on this,” he runs a hand down my arm to grasp at my hand and pull it up to his lips, taking his time to lightly bite the pads of my fingers as he continued to explain. “It’s magic. I wasn’t lying when I said we stay open during the holiday for people that don’t have anyone to share it with. It also serves as our home, you saw my space, we each have our own. And again a place for us to hold meetings. So then when it’s not a holiday, the club turns invisible to the mundane eye. Mother Nature says it’s for our protection.”

There’s a shortness to my breath now as I did my best to concentrate on his words, nodding my head in understanding. The fire inside of me grew, watching as he murmurs against my fingers, content, eyes meeting mine as he stops at my thumb. Our breaths growing heavy, the hand he kept on my ass trailing up my back to rest on the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him. Every exhale he made sent the soft frosty air into my mouth, leaving me salivating and wanting. My eyes drooped, trying to focus on the conversation at hand, but struggling the longer he continues to look at me. 

“I have a lot of questions, Ji-“ he nodded his head, mouth opening to probably assure me that he’d answer everyone of them. I press my thumb, still grazing his bottom lip, to firmly stop him before he could say anything. “But we’ll have time for that later.”

I ease off his lap, sinking into the space between his legs, resting on my knees, hands rubbing up and down his body. Jisung’s breathing grows ragged, icy blues eyes intensifying as my fingers met the button and zipper of his slacks. 

“I want you, Mr. Frost.”

“You already do, Sweetness,” his voice his rough, as I undo his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly.  He leans forward shrugging his suit jacket off, the black button up straining on his shoulder and chest, bulging around the muscles of his biceps.

“I meant to tell you I love your suit.”

“Yea, baby?” He lifts his hips to help me pull his pants further down, bringing his boxers down with them. His dick springs forth, already hard and leaking from his tip. I mock gasp at him, thumb rubbing the pre-cum leaking out of him. He whines as I take him in my fists, tongue taking a kitten lick from the tip. I moaned as the coldness touched my tongue, the icicle length stinging as I pumped him, flicking my wrist every so often. 

I wrapped my lips around him further, tongue laving at the underside of his hard length. I take him deeper, leaving him a moaning mess above, his head back against the couch cushions, eyes screwed shut and the cutest pout on his lips. The absolute fucked out expression spurs me on as I lift up, popping him out of my mouth to spit on him before taking him again, mouth freezing as my nose brushing against the skin of his pubic bone. 

Every noise he releases goes straight to my pussy, aching hole leaking and clenching around nothing. I knew my shorts and panties were ruined at this point, the wetness dripping, soaking me completely through. The hand I had kept on his thigh for support, trails down to my center, gargling around him as my fingers tickle my covered clit. 

He shouts a curse, a hand pulling my hair from my face to watch me take him in my mouth. I move my hand from around him, placing it on top of the hand on my head, encouraging him. He takes the opportunity, guiding my head up and down on his icicle, holding me down. My mouth hangs open, tongue out as he begins to thrust into my mouth, whimpering each time the tip of his dick touches the back of my throat. 

“Sweets, oh fuck, Sweets, so good, baby, such a good baby,” Jisung’s voice is rough, his breathing puffing clouds of frost. “Sweets, I’m gonna cum,” Jisung’s hips stutter, gagging me as spit drools from my mouth onto his dick. “I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

Jisung pulls me from him, lifting me to my feet, hands going to the hem of my tank, mine going to the buttons of his shirt, but I’m unable to even get one of the buttons from his rushed pace. He lifts my shirt over my head to the side, hands moving next to my shorts and underwear, hissing when he sees the mess I made. His eyes trail further down until they see my socks, drawing a laugh from me as he looks at me, begging. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, baby, we’re keeping those on,” Jisung doesn’t wait to get undressed himself, dragging me onto his lap, legs going on either side of him. He rucks his shirt up just enough to see where we will be connected. 

“I need you, Sweets, I shouldn’t have left you, I’m so sorry,” Jisung hands are hurried, one gripping my ass, the other going to his dick, swiping it against my drenched hole. I slowly sink down onto him, the cold dragging a silent moan from me, mouth falling open as I welcomed him back inside.  My arms wrap around his shoulders, nose at his temple as he begins to move my hips up and down his length. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” He punctuates his words with a rough thrust into me.

“Oh, Ji,” I move down, lips going to the underside of his jaw, sucking at his skin. I circle my hips, swiveling a figure eight, sinking deeper down on his length, satisfied by the fullness of him. His brings a hand forward, cold fingers slipping on my clit. I shriek, squeezing around his dick, drawing more curses from him. 

Each grind of his length taking me higher, mind going numb, the cold all-consuming. Jisung’s head lifted, eyes glazing over as he looked at the marks still on my body, before they darkened, head dipping down to make them fresh. 

I groan as his teeth start their own mission to mark my body. Jisung took away the dark cloud that had developed over me since he left. A rational part of my brain wants to slap myself for becoming so attached to this stranger, but as he pulls away, a small smile on his face, fingers running over the swells of my tits, teeth marks prominent once again, I ignored that thought. 

Each glide caused the frost to grow, breaths mingling once more as we continued our slow and sensual connection. We held each others gazes, mouths open and touching, his fingers returning to my clit as he drew circles once more. Jisung’s suddenly moves his hands to grip under my thighs, keeping us connected and moving me to lay my back on the couch with him hovering above me. He watches in fascination, my tits jiggling with as he starts his pumping into me again. 

“I have so much to make up for, never having you gone from my side again, fuck you were made for me,” Jisung emphasizes his point, fingers pinching my nipples and pulling them, smirking as I wailed from pleasure, eyes watering from the intensity. Grinding his hips roughly after a harsh thrust, as if he was trying to sear us together. My hands grasp onto his clothed biceps, frustrated I couldn’t feel the complete chill of his skin. “Should’ve never let my Sweetness alone for so long, what was I thinking, wasn’t nice of me at all, huh?”

I shake my head at him, tears of pleasure leaking from eyes and cunt, drenching my face, his thighs and lower abdomen. Jisung groans, fingers going to pinch and rub at my clit rapidly, the noticeable fluttering and tightening of my hole egging him on to pull my orgasm out. 

I cry out his name, my vision blurring as the first wave hits me, washing over me, leaving me shaking as he continues to thrust inside of me, his own orgasm rearing its head. Jisung grunts, leaning down to touch our foreheads together, hand slipping up around my neck. The air he releases is freezing now, flurries of frost hitting us as he drills into me, hips jerking sloppily. My mouth falls open, tongue out which Jisung takes the opportunity to lewdly spit inside, whimpering seeing me swallow it. Everything about him was cold to touch and leaving me yearning for more. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Sweets, you want it?” I nod my head, lifting the hand around my neck to my lips, sucking his fingers into my mouth, teething at them. Jisung’s other hand is holding on the crook of neck, thumb pressing into my collarbone as he pummels into me. I had long already felt the second orgasm rushing ahead, ready to be released. “Of course you do, my dirty Sweetness, gonna take it all,” Jisung releases a wild groan, hunching forward his length releases a fountain inside of me, triggering my second release. 

The ice cold sensation overpowers me once again, eyes falling closed as he caresses me through it, taking me back to early Christmas morning. The care he had taken towards me, his gentle touch that had rubbed lotion into my legs, that had continued the same treatment after the several other rounds we had completed that night. I run my hand through his hair, his head buried in my neck as we both came down. I turned my head to the side, pressing my lips firmly to his temple. 

Jisung slips out of me slowly, wincing at the grimace on my face, fingers taking their place inside, pushing his cum back inside of me. He grabs my shirt from the floor, wiping at his dick first so he can watch his fingers pump out of me. The cold doesn’t dissipate, etching itself inside of me. He pulls away to clean me and then his fingers. 

“My shirt,” I pout, causing him to lean over to press a kiss against mine. He’s lifting me from the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist again, my hands holding onto his shoulders. 

“I’ll you another pajama set, one with my face on it, now where’s your room,” I grumble at him, pointing towards the staircase to the second floor. “I’ve got days to make up for, Sweetness.”

He begins the trek up the stairs, his pants still undone, half hard dick still hanging out. I couldn’t help, but grind my lower half against his stomach, biting my lip as the wetness transferred onto him. He about trips on the last step, hand flying out to catch us. 

“You know how you can make it up to me?” He whines as I nibble on his earlobe. 

“Tell me, Sweets, whatever you want.”

I grin devilishly, tongue laving at the skin below his ears. My bedroom door is open, neon lights glowing blue, the air dropping as soon as he steps us in. 

“You really want to make it up to me, baby?” I whisper to him, pulling away to rub my thumb on his blue lips. He’s nodding his head, mouth opening to suck on my thumb, teeth scraping against it. He’s in front of the bed now, strong arms tightening as I kept my slow grind against his stomach. 

“Anything, Sweets, please.”

I hold the smirk in now that he’s looking at my face, keeping my face open, eyes begging at him now. His icy blues intense, full of desire and affection, mouth still sucking on my finger. 

“I want-“ he nods his head, encouraging me to continue. “I want to meet ALL your friends.” 

Jisung stills, even the frost in the room as he stares at me. Before he drops me on the bed, causing me to bounce and catch myself before I fell off. He scoffs and glares at me, taking off his clothing as the temperature drops even more. 

“You’re annoying,” I burst out laughing, falling to the side as I watched him undress, glaring and grumbling. He turns me on my stomach, swatting at my ass I continued to giggle, gasping in mock offense.

“Hey! What did I say, you have to be nice to me! Or else!”

He slaps my ass even harder this time, body coming over mine, head coming next to mine. 

“You really think you’re on the nice list?” Jisung snorts above, the hand that slapped my ass now gripping it harshly. “Maybe I should tell Chan what a bad girl you actually are,” he ruts his bare dick against my ass, his hard length drawing a moan from, the icicle a rod of searing pleasure. I lifted my hips, grinding up into him, hushed moans passing through my lips. “Maybe, I’ll even tell Jeongin, you know close we are to New Years, you wanna fuck that up for yourself, hmm?”

I gasp as his hand falls roughly on my ass again, his other fisting at the strands of my hair, pulling my head back so he can bite at my neck. 

“You-“ I heaved in frosty air, eyes nearly rolling back as he straddled my hips, keeping my legs together, before sinking into me from behind, groaning at the tightness of it. I cry out as he begins a punching speed, thrusting into me with abandon. “Y-you know Baby New Year!?”

“You’ve got to be fucking-“ Jisung growls in my ear, arm coming to wrap my neck, putting me a chokehold, not enough to hurt me, but to pull me up to my knees, back flushed with his chest. His thrusting never ceasing. “Such a fucking brat.”

“‘M your brat.”

“Yea, Sweetness,” he lips gentle as they touched my cheek, his free hand tweaking my bitten nipples. “You’re my brat forever, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Frost.”

The night passed in a blur, the cold filled pleasure knocking me down, leaving me weak to it, desiring for him and frost no matter how many times he filled me. I struggled to sleep, scared of what would happen in the morning. If he would still be there when I woke up or would I be met with heat. With a burning fire that would consume me and I’d be left roaming the Earth, seeking to be cold once again. 

I wasn’t sure when I finally did end up closing my eyes, Jisung having wrapped me in his cold arms, thin blanket resting over us. His fingers trailing over every mark, new and old ones that he made fresh again. He had spent a significant amount of time rubbing oil into my ass, the teeth marks having been so deep, he remarked I could get them tattooed. 

For the past 4 days, I awoke gasping and sweaty, sensual dreams becoming nightmares. The heat of my room forcing me to either take cold showers or an ice pack to rub on my skin. This morning however, it was only one thing, which caused my lips to tilt up as I snuggled in further, the coolness of it lulling me back to sleep, content knowing it would stay with me forever. 

The frosty air of Jack Frost nipping at my nose. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Holidays! I hope everyone had a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do and thank you for taking the time to read. XOXOXOXOOXO

Totally voluntary, but if you enjoy my writing and want to support me further, please consider here, I’d greatly appreciate it and thank you so much <3

I want to make it clear that I do not condone plagiarism in any form. All of the work I create is original. Please do not copy or reproduce my work without proper permission or attribution. 

[sgiandubh]

She saw, she was first, she scored, homerun

Heh. But Marple only tells you what is convenient for her, right?

This time, I do not have the clip, like she does, simply because as I said, I could not be arsed to watch it. But a trusted friend did, all five hours of it (thank you, dear 😘😘😘😘) and sent me very decent screencaps of S + June Brunette at that tennis event. She sent them a couple of hours ago, while I was busy having a life and lunch, you know (I can prove it anytime, but will always protect my Circle of Trust). Sorry for the delay.

As you know, this blog does not believe that hiding information is the best thing to do. I never did.

Following are the screencaps I have received, in order, and with very precise comments. If anything is wrong, let it be my and her sin. But it is not and you will immediately see why.

Context: S and June Brunette's juiciest appearance in that very exposed spot of the VIP area coincided with Mansour Bahrami's match. S came first, at around 03: 04:49.

Two other people who were seated on those seats before his arrival get up and leave (perhaps prompted? perhaps uninterested in Bahrami? we can only speculate) - all this perhaps about 20 to 30 seconds before S arrives, alone:

He takes a seat and quickly arranges his jacket on his knees, perhaps sends an SMS (I am not Mrs. Graham and, unlike many other people across the street, never pretended to have infrared surveillance material):

Meanwhile, she pops in, at around 03:05:10. Unmistakably Panikian - the yellow outfit was a dead giveaway and he practically pointed when, where and for what to look, in his post: 'and of course, the legend, @mansourbahramiofficial'.

Heh: he was far from surprised and she did not chitchat at all ('is this seat taken?' etc). She just sat down: it was a very natural thing to do:

Then, he takes her in a bear hug. Kinda, sorta. Making sure they are well exposed, unlike you know, that other time:

I am told it was a matter of seconds before he wrapped his arm around her neck. Well, that is the rebuke I have been waiting for about three weeks, right?

At about 04:03:41 and until 04:10:03, she goes out, for some reason (🚹? 💄? 📳? your guess is as good as mine):

My candid question is.. who is Light Green Arrow Woman? This is the first time I see her clearly in those screenshots I (one more time, for the people in the back) have been sent by a trusted friend. Could she be a chaperone of sorts? I am told that on the video edit Marple made a modo suo, she seems to be interacting with Mrs. Panikian, but I would have to see that:

A selfie is taken, to properly document the bullshit (after she helped herself with some more champagne):

Whatever Marple calls 'quite the hug' is a kiss on the cheek, and you can see it quite clearly on her edit, if you really are freaked out by this cheap arrangement:

Prompted by the impromptu (heh) 🔦 + 🍾cocktail, she took it very seriously. A pity she did, without having the slightest idea of the strange place she landed in.

That would be it, to be honest. The pics and stills of these two individuals where he does wear a jacket, that our side published first yesterday are from the first part of the program. I do have a couple of more stills from then, but you have it all on that edit. There is no need to add more pics to it, doesn't bring anything new to the table.

And now, onwards for some more context.

Such as this post on June 13, 2024:

With this very peculiar hidden comment:

From a very peculiar sock account:

Mmmhm. Joined in June 2024, follows nobody and is followed by nobody, and yet felt the need to change the username already once? I mean, what the fuck is this cheap game, right here?

So, for those of you naive (I am elegant) enough to think this Brief Encounter was organic, think twice. Somebody followed whatever the scheming was and that somebody tried to warn the woman. Whether about the Inglorious Pap Walk or about Kissgate (the message was posted around June 15th), is to be debated. But still...

And there is some more, of course : I may not be willing to fuck my (already complicated) eyesight with edits and frames and screenshots, but I am not yet dead and I still have all my brain faculties.

Around the same time Mrs. Panikian began to be followed by S on IG, she also began to be followed by a very decent (give or take a couple of details) physical alternative to My Personal Someone. Who would kill me if he could read this post, btw. That is, if you could kill someone with cold shoulder treatment and an icy gaze (Spanish style all the way):

Quick, let's see what his Personal Life insert tells us:

I mean, D'OH: in case you wondered who the fuck that warning sock account was. NEED I DRAW IT?

Nah, can't be Margot, what were we thinking?

🙄🙄🙄

He followed her not so long ago, but well, he wasn't active since March, LOL:

And look how cute, they are fresh (?) mutuals, as of very recently/now - I might be wrong, but I don't think I am:

Tattoos, fitness venues, filthy porn bots in his 'Tagged' section, rumored to be single since at least last year. Rings a bell? Oh, surely not. Especially when you find out that this guy is also a mildly hot topic on Data Lounge (hope dies last):

Similar profiles (but Eggold is apparently a staunch Catholic - the gay conspirators grin with glee), similar PR problems. Alice to the rescue?

At any rate, she is up for grabs, people: 'looking for a man with a decent sense of humor who doesn't troll women's IG pages' - LOOOOOL. Meet the bloody OL fandom, doll - how's that for trolling? Betcha didn't see what real trolling is, yet.

On a sidenote, in an effort to leave no stones unturned, I have even looked for the edits on her Wikipedia page, until I realized they were unsubstantial and made by a clearly obsessed fan of Miss Universe contests (yeah, such people exist):

Surely enough, that user was blocked for sockpuppetry, which means 'abusing multiple accounts'. But Panikian was not her main obsession and for once, this has nothing to do with the current cheapo story that they try to peddle us. Whoever 'they' are.

That's all for now, ladies. Thanks to all three of you who sent tips and raw info for me to connect. You are wonderful!

It's going to be an interesting summer, for sure.

Ship on, ladies, still the same old, tired, boring BS. But also an interestingly symmetrical rebuke to TS Kissgate - if only...

[yannar]

late night... talking?

robin arellano x reader

(aged up to 16!!)

note: IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN SO LONG I HAVE A REALLY REALLY BAD FEVER. IVE HAD IT SINCE??? IDK??? MONDAY

it was late, the house quiet except for the faint sound of the fridge and the occasional creak of the floorboards. you hadn’t expected anyone to still be awake when you shuffled into the kitchen for a drink, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and socks, your hair slightly mussed from lounging around earlier.  

you definitely hadn’t expected robin arellano, your brother’s best friend, to be leaning casually against the counter, a soda can in hand, smirking like he owned the place.  

“couldn’t sleep either?” 

he asked, his voice low and teasing.  

you jumped slightly, your heart racing as you turned to face him. 

“robin! what are you even doing here? shouldn’t you be passed out in the living room or something?”  

he shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. 

“your brother told me to make myself at home. figured that included raiding your fridge.”  

rolling your eyes, you opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. 

“you’re lucky my mom likes you. if she knew how obnoxious you were, you wouldn’t even make it through the front door.”  

his smirk widened, and he tilted his head, watching you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. 

“you keep saying that, but you don’t seem too annoyed right now.”  

you twisted the cap off your bottle, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“you’re imagining things.”  

“am i?” 

he asked, stepping closer. his voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else in it—something that made your pulse quicken.  

you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. he was standing closer now, close enough that you could smell the faint hint of cologne and soda on him. his dark eyes were fixed on you, the smirk still playing at the edges of his lips.  

“you always this cocky?” 

you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.  

“only around you,” 

he replied smoothly.  

you let out a soft scoff, turning back toward the counter, but robin stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on the edge of it beside you. his proximity was distracting, and you felt the air shift, charged with a tension you couldn’t quite ignore.  

“what do you want, robin?” 

you asked, your voice quieter now, almost wary.  

“what do you think?” 

he murmured, leaning in slightly.  

you turned to look at him, ready to fire back a retort, but the words died on your lips when you saw the look in his eyes. his usual confidence was still there, but there was something softer beneath it—something that made your stomach flip.  

“robin—” 

you started, but before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.  

the kiss was hesitant at first, almost like he was waiting to see if you’d pull away. but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into it, your fingers curling around the front of his t-shirt to pull him closer.  

his hesitation vanished the second you kissed him back. his hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your knees weak.  

you broke away after a moment, gasping for air, your forehead resting against his. 

“what the hell are we doing?”  

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“something we probably shouldn’t,” 

he admitted, but his voice was low and rough, and he didn’t look like he regretted a second of it.  

“robin,” 

you murmured, your voice softer now, unsure.  

he didn’t give you a chance to finish. his lips found yours again, more insistent this time. his other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, tilting it slightly so he could kiss you deeper.  

you melted into it, your hands fisting in his shirt as he pressed you back against the counter. it was overwhelming, the way he kissed you—slow and heated, like he was trying to memorize the feel of your lips, the taste of you.  

when he pulled back slightly, his lips hovered just over yours. his breathing was unsteady, matching your own, and his hand slid down to your hip, resting there like it belonged.  

“you drive me insane, you know that?” 

he muttered, his voice low and rough against your skin.  

“you’re not exactly easy to deal with yourself,” 

you managed, your voice breathy as you tried to steady yourself.  

robin let out a quiet laugh, his thumb brushing against your hip. 

“i’ll take that as a compliment.”  

before you could respond, he kissed you again. this time, there was no hesitation, no careful testing of boundaries. his lips moved against yours with a feeling that left you dizzy, his hands gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you.  

you clung to him, your fingers tangled in his hair, and you felt the tension in his body, the way he held himself back just enough to keep things from spiraling completely out of control.  

he broke away again, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to catch his breath.

“you sure you’re okay with this?”  

“robin,” 

you whispered, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. 

“if i wasn’t, i would’ve stopped you by now.”  

his lips twitched into a small, almost sheepish smile before he kissed you again, softer this time, but no less intense.  

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, lost in each other in the dimly lit kitchen, but when you finally pulled back for good, your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven.  

“we’re gonna get caught,” 

you said, but there was no real conviction in your voice.  

robin smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“worth it.” 

[wukyma]

yeeop hi, it’s me, the loser who’s writing fanfic for your ghost antinous au! i’ve got some vague and ideas and a decent amount of words done but i saw one of your posts saying you’re writing a document for the au?

i’m thinking i’ll be waiting for that before i make any other big writing decisions, i’m very excited for it :D

Ahhh sorry for the confusion, that was for another thing :'D

Regardless, I do have some ideas for ghost Antinous if you're interested!

(sorry for mentioning but u said u were interested too so @bb-bugspot)

Yappery under the cut 👇

You know that Hermes was also a guide for the dead? One of his "jobs" was bringing souls of mortals to the underworld – the 108 suitors as well, apparently, and whether they were buried appropriately or not doesn't really matter here

What happens? A certain ghosty someone (Antinous) spends the whole day trying to strangle both Odysseus and Telemachus (spoiler: he can't), missing Hermes' arrival to Ithaca like a loser ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Hermes bringing a hoard of souls to the underworld: let's see... One, two, three, four... ten......... nah I'm too lazy to do that, bye idiots *flies away*

Now we have Antinous, stuck in the mortal plane where no one can see him, having to watch the happy and thriving family, annoyed, jealous, and alone. Like he deserves tbh

And since I was leaning into comedy in the beginning, Telemachus starting to hear (and later even see; idk maybe Hermes' heritage activated or smth) him is a source of all kinds of moments where he has to act like ✨ everything is fine ✨ while there's an angry dude screaming in his ear "PAY ATTENTION TO ME"

If we sprinkle it with sad vibes then Antinous is pestering Telemachus for two reasons:

he hates him and has nothing better to do anyway

it's the closest thing to human interaction he has now lol

Basically talking to (read: pissing off) Telemachus is the only entertainment, and as time passes he just becomes something of a voice of conscience but diametrically opposed, and by that I mean:

"Who does this prick think he is?! Kick his ass Tele KICK HIS ASS"

"Wow, loser (Peisistratus probably idk) actually likes you, what a moron. You too btw"

Probably the first thing Telemachus sees in the morning too,, poor boy; maybe Antinous even tries to trip him up from time to time (they can't touch each other but small things like these work), invades his personal space, swipes off random objects from their designated surfaces, talks shit during family dinners (Telemachus actually thinks some of it is funny but he won't say that out loud, nuh uh) Penelope and Odysseus are a bit concerned about the strange expressions he makes XD

That dynamic goes on until the moment Antinous says a particularly foul joke and Telemachus slaps him (not really hoping for anything since every time he tried his hand just went through); the hit lands, both are like wtf just happened??? That puts an end to random chaos because (1) Telemachus is older now and will/can beat the shit out of him (2) Antinous just doesn't find the same satisfaction in annoying the prince like before, for some reason

So they just....... come to accept the situation and stick together like the weirdest pair of mismatched socks. END

(one more crumb of comedy material: Antinous now drops random objects on people's heads when they disrespect Telemachus or some similar thing)

That's it! There's one important thing I wanna say tho,, what I wrote is just my vision, if you had something else in mind and it doesn't align with this don't worry too much!! I want to know your ideas as well, and honestly, there wasn't a lot of thought put in cooking up an actual plot on my side; write whatever you feel like writing, I'm already happy those sketches inspired somebody X)

(And! Guys!! A bit of disclaimer: it's not like I'm sticking fingers in ears and going lalalalalala when it comes to Antinous' canon jerk behavior, or justify him – this whole au retains ✨funsies rights✨, don't take it too seriously please)

[teamchasezwrites]

Second Chance (1/3)

Word Count: 3,724

Characters: Damian Priest/Unnamed OC

Genre: Romance

Tags: Anxiety, Waffling, Creative Licensing on Real Events, Stars Align, Kissing

Summary: Some people are worth a second chance. (A Wrestlemania XL Night Two fic)

Author’s Note: This was initially supposed to be a simple one shot. Then it morphed into a second part in Damian’s POV. Then finally a 3rd part. An error on my part with writing Damian not involved in night 1, but I had already written part 1 and most of part 2 before I realized and liked it too much to change. I did watch Damian’s doc but any errors in his road to WWE timeline are on me and creative licensing. This is written with an unnamed female lead as I tried to make it x reader, but I’m not very good at writing in the first person.

Part II Part III

The atmosphere was electric. Lincoln Financial Field held over sixty seven thousand screaming Eagle fans weekly during the fall. Usually she was one of those Eagle fans screaming herself horse from way up in section 243 at the coach to run the damn ball. She was still smarting over their epic collapse five months later when she thought they were Super Bowl bound finally ready to take the Chiefs down but alas…

She shut down that anger like she had earlier when she felt the need to raise her finger at the stadium as she was walking in. Of course across the parking lot, Citizen’s Bank Park loomed where the Phillies went down with a whimper in the playoffs. In order to save her sanity, she didn’t even look toward the Wells Fargo Center. She did however stop to take a photo with the Nick Foles statue.

Thank God for St Nick.

Or Big Dick Nick.

Tonight wasn’t about sports teams and their ability to continuously raise your hopes only to dash them in the end.

No.

Tonight was about a different hope. Though her heart still had the ability to be broken into pieces like in playoff ball.

With sports, there was always next year.

With love you tried to catch that flame and ride the magic. Hopefully forever. When the magic ended with love, hearts moved on to someone else.

With sports teams you went down with them to the bitter end.

“Jesus Christ I hope it’s warmer tonight.”

She looked to the seat next to her where her sister stood in front of the steel folding chair with the Wrestlemania XL logo. She held her phone in the air, taking a video of the crowd, the music, and the atmosphere.

“If it’s like it was last night, I’m leaving.”

“The fuck you will!” Her sister snapped at her as her fingers tapped over the phone screen. No doubt posting the video to her Instagram. “Do you know how much Bill spent on these tickets?”

Bill, her sister’s second husband. Bill, who was nearly twenty years older than her sister. Bill, who worked in the financial district in New York City and made it his mission to spoil her sister. She was sure her sister loved him in a safe, older man kind of way. He provided for her, gave her security. Random trips to Italy. After her disaster of a marriage to her first husband, she deserved it.

“I nearly lost a toe last night!”

The stadium wasn’t covered like most NFL teams seem to be learning toward when trying to get their cities to foot the bill for a new one. The Linc was open aired as they came. It provided views of beautiful sunsets and planes coming into land at the airport just down 95. Depending on the side you sat on and the time, the sun roasted you alive. It also rained on you if you weren’t lucky enough to have a seat under a cover. It also provided no shelter from the cool temperatures April always brought to the Northeast. Where winter liked to hang on as long as possible before it released its grips to spring and the blistering summer.

“I think I saw some Cody Rhodes socks at the merch tent.”

She side eyed her sister not finding the comment funny. She made sure to bring a pair of gloves and a toboggan. She almost brought a throw as well, but decided not to. If the second night was anything like the previous night, she would be spending more time on her feet than huddled in her chair.

“Probably just as well,” her sister grinned. “You shouldn’t be wearing someone else’s merchandise.”

She was saved at having to reply when the opening festivities started. As the National Anthem was performed, she barely heard the words, mouthing in reflex with her hand over her heart. The crowd cheered at the conclusion as music hit the speakers. Inside the ring, a pretty black woman smiled over the crowd as she announced the special guest, Stephanie McMahon.

Nerves built in her stomach and continued to roll and twist into knots as the first wrestler, Drew McIntyre made his entrance with bagpipe players lining the stage. Their sound echoed through the stadium. It wasn’t until the stage filled with members of the Philadelphia String Association members and their instruments and outlandish outfits did she lean over to her sister.

“I think this was a bad idea.”

She was nearly drowned out by the music on stage and the crowd singing rolling “ohs”. She learned last night it was just what they did with the next wrestler.

“What?” Her sister’s head snapped toward her as she looked away from the stage.

“I said,” she paused as the crowd roared with cheers. Looking up at the big video screen above the ring, she saw Seth Rollins made his appearance. Dressed outlandishly in an outfit that fit right in with the Mummers surrounding him. “This was a bad idea.”

“I heard that. I was just giving you time to change it.” Her sister pursed her lips in annoyance. Or disappointment. She wasn’t sure which. Being ten years younger, she was used to receiving those looks throughout her life from her sister.

“Be real.” She sighed.

“I am.” Her sister turned away from the ramp Seth was currently making his way down. “You were excited when I told you I got tickets.”

“I was. I am…” She insisted.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Look around Sis,” she waved her hand around her acknowledging the thousands of people packed inside the stadium, the cheers, the lights. “You think with all this, he’ll notice me? Let alone recognize me? It’s been so long…”

Ten years.

Ten years since the man she thought she’d marry, create a family with, would love forever, up and left her.

‘This isn’t working anymore.’

The words crumbled her heart and stole her breath. She’d been imagining her future with him and he was leaving her behind.

“You never know.” Her sister shrugged. “You caught his eye before. Who’s to say you won’t catch it again? Besides, I’m tired of listening to you wallow after another failed date with yet another guy who failed to measure up to Luis.”

Well…

She turned away from her sister to stare at the ring where Seth and Drew were currently locked together in their match for the championship belt Seth currently held. From the rumors she read online from various social media sites, Luis – Damian Priest – was going to cash in his Money in the Bank briefcase that assured him a title match.

“It has to work.”

She turned her attention back to her sister. “Why’s that?”

“These tickets were cheaper than getting that tattoo removed.”

Ignoring her smirk, she looked down at her left hand. There, on the inside of her ring finger over the second knuckle toward the third, stood Luis’s name written in a delicate script font. The tail of the s making a small heart.

“Can’t imagine any man wanting to slide a ring over another man’s name,” her sister said dryly.

The tattoo had been part of a drunken night nearly three years after their break up. Her roommate at the time was an aspiring tattoo artist. She wasn’t sure what led to the tattoo – the night remained a black hole in her memory. She woke up the next morning on the living room floor with the kind of hangover she hadn’t experienced since her first year of college. The pain in her head matched that on the pain on her hand where a fresh tattoo sat on redden skin.

Concealer became her friend. She carried it around like chapstick. One in her purse. Another in her car. The desk at her old job. A tube in the drawer of her bedside table. Even one laying on the coffee table in her apartment. All to hide the name of the man she never got over. Even now, the ink was hidden beneath a layer of classic concealer.

Her mind wandered during the match thinking about Luis and how long it’s been since they shared the same space. How different he looked in his appearance now compared to then. The cut of his hair. The trimmed facial hair covering his cheeks. The numerous tattoos covering his arms, chest, and back. His muscles more defined and cut. The added muscle weight making him appear bigger than before.

The ringing of the bell drew her attention back to the match. Drew McIntyre was standing victorious in the ring with the gold championship belt hoisted high in the air with one hand. The crowd roared in celebration. She could see a dejected and limping Seth Rollins making his way back up the ramp sans the belt he wore to the ring not that long ago.

She couldn’t help but feel letdown, a sagging feeling of sorrow eclipsing her body while thousands cheered in happiness around her.

This was supposed to be when Damian cashed that briefcase in. But he never appeared. Did all the articles and tweets she read get it wrong? How could Damian make an appearance now? The match was over. Drew won. In a second or two, Drew would leave the ring and make his own way back up the ramp. The show would continue. The window to see Damian gone.

Her thumb unconsciously rubbed over the inside of her finger, right over Luis’s hidden name.

Disappointment set in. She knew it was a chance nothing would happen. Even if Damian came out, there was no guarantee he would see her anyway. Though she would be terrified standing in the ring with thousands of people staring at her, she imagined for him the people all blurred together. Seeing them but without seeing them.

“Oh Damian is definitely cashing in!”

She tuned an ear to the conversation behind her. It took everything she had to not turn around and pepper the person with questions. How did he know!

“Oh yeah!” Came a laughing response. “He’s spending way too much time fucking with Punk.”

The video screen above the ring showed Drew now standing on the announce table. She couldn’t make out the words, but she bet it was trash talking a guy sitting in the office chair wearing a headset. She didn’t know who he was. Her deep dive into the briefcase and Damian didn’t include other wrestlers and whatever beef they may have with each other.

The Scottish music cut off as Drew was knocked off his feet. The crowd went wild as they stared chanting “CM Punk” as the wrestler continued his beatdown of the new champion.

The lights on the housing area, lining the ramp, and at the top of the ramp switched from green to purple at the same time music blared. The crowd lost their minds and she swore she felt the ground moving.

“I told you!” Her sister grabbed her arm, her fingers squeezing tightly.

A blur of purple and black ran down the ramp in the midst of cheers. She found it hard to see with everyone standing, dancing around, and their arms in the air. She looked up at the screen and her heart stopped.

Damian.

She watched the whole sequence without breathing. Jamming the briefcase into Drew’s head. Handing off the briefcase to the referee. Picking up a beat down Drew from the ringside floor and tossing him into the ring. Him climbing into the ring and the ref ringing the bell.

It felt like it lasted hours.

Damian lifted Drew high above him with one arm and slammed him to the mat before falling over him in a pin.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rang and crowd’s roar strengthened once again.

“And here is your winner! And NEEEEEEW world heavyweight champion… Daamienn Preeeist!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Damian on the TV high above the ring. Holding the title in one hand with both hands above his head in victory. He then flexed his arms down and let out a roar, the sound buried by the fans cheering.

“I told you!” Her sister shouted again, her hand still gripped her arm and she shook her with excitement. “Get over here!”

She was practically thrown into the fencing that created a barrier between the seats and the ramp. It moved slightly but she was able to regain her footing. Fans around her all stormed to the fence as Damian rolled from the ring. They screamed and shouted his name.

He appeared at the bottom of the ramp and she got her first unobscured view of him. He looked larger than life. The black leather gear he wore molded to his body like a layer of skin. His hair – much fuller than photos she’d seen of him – hung all over his shoulders in thick braided dreads, complete with purple and red scattered throughout.

Her heart thumped wildly but she was frozen. This was different. This was Damian. Not Luis. She didn’t know Damian. How could she expect him to react at seeing her? It’s been ten years… she looked different just like he did. He was a whole new person! He broke up with her for a reason.

This isn’t working out…

“What the fuck…”

She heard her sister mumble, but she was struck mute, she could only watch as he stalked up the ramp. The confidence she never knew he had exuding off him in waves.

“Damian I love you!”

Her eyes widened at the scream next to her. Her face grew warm against the coldness in the air. She could only watch as Damian’s eyes drifted from the top of the ramp toward the side… in her direction.

She could tell he was about to smile or wink in the direction of the proclamation. He’d probably done it hundreds of times. When their eyes met, his face morphed into shock. Recognition dawned in his eyes. She watched as his steps faltered.

“Smile you fucking idiot,” her sister elbowed her sharply.

She smiled.

At least she hoped.

It didn’t appear she had any control over any of her muscles at the moment. Screams grew louder around her and bodies jostled one another. She blinked and Damian was right there in front of her. His chest heaved with heavy breaths from the exertion and complete pandemonium. A slick sheen covered his bare arms. Taller than she remembered. Though his dark eyes – popping from the thin line of eyeliner outlining them – were the same. They stared directly into her eyes and deep into her soul. The crowd noise faded – muted in the background. The people around them blurred. It was just him.

“Luis…” she whispered and she wasn’t sure he heard until his eyes flared.

Then she was in his arms wrapped up tight. The corner of the belt dug into her shoulder where he still clutched it in his hands. The other end brushed against the back of her thigh. She loved being in his arms. His hold so tight offering a sense of security and protection. A feeling of home washed over her. Warmth radiated from him and she pressed her hands against the satiny spandex of the top of his ring gear. With a shuddering sigh, she relaxed into him.

“Fuck…” his deep voice reverberated through her body. She felt him tuck his head down, hiding his face from view. “I gotta go…” the words caused her arms to tighten as if she could keep him there forever. “Please stay. I’ll…fuck…just don’t go.”

She nodded her head and felt the squeeze of his arms one more time before he slowly pulled away. Her eyes met his, swirling with emotions. The dull roar of the crowd around them threatened their bubble.

In a quick movement, his hands cupped her face. His fingers were still curled around the black leather of the belt strap. The back of his fingers pressed into her check. His head lowered and he kissed her firmly and quickly. His lips disappeared in a flash and with a soft caress of his thumb over her cheek, he was gone leaving her breathless.

She watched as he stalked up the stage, the belt in hand to a group of people at the top. She recognized them from photos as part of the group Damian was in. He met them with his arms stretched wide. Two members dressed in black hugged him from either side, while another in bright white shoes jumped up from the front. Finally, a woman joined the foray. They bounced up and down as they all hugged. A moment later they turned to face the crowd, Damian standing tall in the middle. He raised his championship belt up high above him in both hands while the others raised their hands in victory. The crowd roared in celebration.

Then they were gone.

“So…”

She turned her attention from the empty ramp to her sister. Her sister had her arms crossed with a smirk on her face. One eyebrow arched and her head tilted as if to say ‘told you so’.

Her checks flushed with embarrassment as she took in the faces of the people around her. She ducked her head and moved back to her seat stuffing her hands in her coat pocket to hide the shaking. This time it wasn’t from the cold. She wasn’t feeling the low temperatures anymore. A warmness wrapped around her from the moment her eyes met Luis’s. She licked her lips, drawing his taste.

“Here,” a wipe came into view. She looked up to see her sister holding out a white towelette with one hand while the other was pressing the flap down to close the travel package of make-up remover wipes.

“What’s this for?” She stared at it questioningly.

“You’re obviously not gonna be needing that concealer anymore.” Her sister smirked and pressed the towelette in her hand.

She clutched the damp wipe in her hand. Her skin still tingled where he touched. She could still taste him on her lips from even the quick kiss they shared. She tucked the wipe into her coat pocket not making the move to reveal the finger tattoo.

“Chicken,” her sister murmured as the crowd jumped to their feet as the music for the next match started. “What did he say?”

She looked around, but the attention had diverted back to the ring. She still leaned closer to her sister just in case. “He told me to stay. Not to go.”

“Like stay here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess?”

As the night grew longer, nerves settled in her belly. The voice in her head grew louder.

‘He’s not coming.’

‘He was just being nice.’

‘You caught him off guard.’

‘He doesn’t want you anymore.’

It took everything she had to keep herself planted in her seat. Not to beg her sister to leave. To go back to the hotel and remember how his lips felt against hers. The memory of his arms around her.

“Miss?”

She almost missed the call, zoned out watching Logan Paul, who she recognized from YouTube, wrestle in the ring. Next time she couldn’t sleep, she would Google how a YouTube star not only ended up in a wrestling match, but was a champion.

Her sister nudge her breaking the zone she was in. Catching her eye, she followed the nod toward the barricade where a man stood motioning for her. Dumbfounded she pointed to herself. At the man’s emphatic nod, she stood and slid past her sister to the barricade.

“Yes?”

“You with Damian?”

“Well…I….” She stuttered until a kick to her foot caused her to blurt, “yes!”

“Here.”

The man handed her a folded up piece of paper ripped from a note pad. Before she could question, he was gone. Sneaking along the barricades ducking out of view.

“What is it?”

“A piece of paper.” She answered sitting back in her chair. The paper pressed tightly in her fingers.

“No shit,” her sister rolled her eyes. “What the fuck does it say?”

“I…I don’t know.” She stared at the white paper. Void of anything on the outside. Schrödinger’s cat stared her in the face. The words on the inside of the paper could be everything or nothing at all.

“Want me to read it?” Her sister offered.

“No. Just…” She pulled her closer to her as she turned her body toward her sister. Their knees touched and their bodies hunched to create a makeshift wall to block prying eyes.

She took a breath and slid her finger in between the flap and pressed it open. Slanted chicken scratch she knew so well greeted her.

I can’t get away. Meet me at Embassy Suites tonight??

The note ended with his phone number and was signed with just an L.

“The cost of these tickets were worth it after all.” Her sister elbowed her in a teasing manner.

“You don’t know that.” She read the note again, memorizing the number; different than she remembered. “He might just want to catch up.”

Her sister sent her a look. “Right. The kiss he planted on you was just to catch up.”

She blushed as a smile toyed with her lips. She folded the paper back along the crease and stuffed it in her coat pocket keeping it in her grasp.

“Are you gonna go?”

“How? We’re heading in the opposite direction.”

“I can drop you off.”

“Then I’ll be stuck there.”

“Would that be so bad?” Her sister wiggled her eyebrows.

No. Being stuck with Luis at a hotel wouldn’t be bad. Not at all.

“Who cares about logistics,” her sister continued. “I will drop you off after we leave here or you can take me back to your place and come back down. It doesn’t matter. Text him right now and tell him you’ll be there.”

She mulled over her sister’s words. She was right of course, not that she’d share that tidbit of information with her. Being able to be in the same space as Luis again? She couldn’t turn it down.

As the music hit for the final match of the night, she pulled out her phone.

‘I’ll be there.’

Next Chapter