#of all the things to be left behind- for it to be the feeling of longing

[okaylikeschaewon]

Hotter-N-Funner

~10k words, Roommates series, smut, Part 1 here

“... part of a punishment.”

“She did what?!” Mint shouted through the door right before a thundering crash echoed in the room.

“Mint? You alright?!” you called out, holding your ear to the door. “Mint?”

“Yeah, all good!” Mint’s disheveled voice came through. After a couple of seconds, he opened the door, rubbing his hip. “I fell.”

“You fell in the toilet?”

“Not in the toilet you idiot,” Mint shoved your shoulder. “So, tell me, how the fuck did you manage that on the first date?”

“A bit of an odd story honestly,” you started.

“How odd could it be?” Mint asked while grabbing a bag of chips off the counter. “Sounds like a simple case of another college hoe being horny.”

“Be nice,” you scolded him. “She’s actually really sweet. No jokes like that when she stops by.”

“She’s coming over?” Mint gasped through a handful of chips. “I can’t even remember the last girl you’ve had over.”

“I mean it,” you snatched the bag out of his hands and took a chip for yourself. “I really like this girl, I want to see where it goes.”

“Do you actually like her or do you just like that she’s hot as fuck?” Mint asked while he took another chip from the bag as you held it out for him. “What about that bartender you’ve been chatting up?”

“I don’t know man. I don’t think she’s actually interested in a serious relationship anyway, even if I did want that. I’m happy just being friends,” you replied. “But back to this girl, seriously, I had such a good time with her. And sure, it helps that she’s hot as fuck.”

“Yeah of course you had a good time with her sucking-”

“Stop it,” you gave Mint’s arm a little shove. “That’s the one part I kinda regret.”

“Regret? The fuck?” Mint cocked his eyebrows. “Head game that weak?”

“No, that definitely wasn’t the problem,” you sighed. “I just like… almost feel like we robbed ourselves of having a really special first time… does that make sense?”

“No.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled as you picked up a couple of dirty glasses from the table.

“Here,” Mint took the glasses from your hands. “Of course I get what you’re saying, and you already know I support whatever decision you wanna make. Just tell me though, why do you think this girl’s so special already?”

“Well,” you began before pausing to think for a moment. “One could argue the coffee date and even what happened in the bathroom was kinda forced-”

“You don’t say?” Mint dramatically gasped, feigning shock.

“But lunch wasn’t,” you continued, ignoring his theatrics. “And it went fucking perfectly, we just meshed so well, I swear I could talk to her for hours. The vibe, her energy, everything was just so… when I think about her right now, I think about lunch, not the coffee shop.”

“Sounds like my roommate’s in love already,” Mint teased. “Devil’s advocate, she was just using you for the free meal.”

“She paid for it.”

“You let her pay? That’s not like you.”

“Not exactly,” you elaborated. “We were hitting it off pretty well and the idea of me treating her to dinner sorta came up, so she snuck off to the bathroom and did the whole pay behind your back thing.”

“This might be the most unbelievable part of the story,” Mint chuckled. “Why the hell would she do that?”

“Obviously I don’t know for sure, but this is why I’m telling you I feel like there’s something more here,” you explained. “She could have easily done her punishment and then left, or even taken the free lunch and then left, but I think her logic was if I’m treating her to dinner later that she should take care of lunch.”

“Hmm,” Mint pondered for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about there being something here, and maybe she feels the same way. That would explain why she doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s using you for a meal.”

“I hope so, guess I’ll find out more tonight.”

“You like her enough to give up your fuck buddy? I doubt she’d be cool with you having one.”

“Absolutely, even after just one date with her.”

“That’s crazy, you’d actually throw away what you have?”

“I mean, she’s graduating this year anyway, how many more times am I realistically going to fuck her?” you considered your options. “Girl’s a damn genius and beautiful, she’ll be fine without me.”

“You’re losing her roommate, too,” Mint added jokingly.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath with a smirk, thinking back to some wild nights. “I kinda forgot about that part.”

“Not so easy anymore, is it?” Mint teased.

“It’s fine, seriously Mint, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since Rina,” you replied. “But it’s also way too early, I’ve known this girl for less than a day.”

“What, you haven’t started picking baby names yet?”

“First I have to work on making the babies.”

“I hope she’s good at that part, otherwise you’re throwing away an absolute dime piece for nothing,” Mint laughed.

“Or, hear me out, I just won’t make it official until next year. That way I’m still clear until Sana graduates.”

“You realize half the guys at this school would literally kill to have what you have going on, and you’re here playing games?”

“I had my fun with her, I guess I’ll be doing half the school a favor by moving on.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re an absolute fuckboy?” Mint scoffed. “Sana is not just a toy for you to use.”

“Once or twice, I think,” you chuckled. “What was the first time again? When I brought that one girl back last year?”

“Oh yeah, the one with the massive rack, right? She was so fucking fit, can’t lie, I was pretty jealous of that one.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I still think about her to this day. She’s really the one who got away.”

“Maybe if you didn’t decide to fuck her best friend, she wouldn’t have gotten away,” Mint burst out laughing as he snatched the bag of chips back. “Absolute idiot.”

“I was drunk.”

“Not an excuse,” Mint kept laughing.

“She was drunk!”

“Even if we accept that excuse - which we don’t,” Mint began shaking his head. “How do you justify the second time?”

“We were horny,” you shrugged.

“Idiot,” Mint chuckled. “The roommate had a cute smile though, I don’t entirely blame you.”

“Yeah, what was her name again?”

“Bro, you’re the one who slept with her,” Mint shook his head in disbelief, laughing at you. “It started with an ‘N’.”

“‘N”? Shit, I really got nothing.”

“Fuckboy,” Mint sang, before gasping. “Wait, should I be concerned about your roommate fetish?”

“Yeah, lock your door when you sleep,” you said casually while cleaning up some dishes left on the coffee table. “Mind helping me? I don’t want Zuha to get the wrong idea.”

“Fuck, even her name is hot.”

“Idiot,” you tossed an empty can at him.

“I know she’s pretty and all,” Mint began helping you clean up. “But seriously? I can’t remember a single time you’ve cleaned up just for a girl. Now that I think about it, you almost never bring them back to our room.”

“Not almost never. Never, not after Rina,” you replied as you fixed the pillows on the couch. “We have any Febreze left?”

“Yeah, in my room,” Mint answered as he tidied up. “Promise me one thing though.”

“What’s up?” you asked as you walked back into the living room.

“If you’re going into this one with serious intentions, promise me you’ll take it slower this time,” Mint responded. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do with your random hookups, but this isn’t a random hookup.”

“Is this because of Rina?” you asked as you casually sprayed ‘Ocean Mist’ into the air. “I told you, I’m all good with that situation.”

“I know you are,” Mint replied. “It’s just that sometimes when you climb too high too fast, the fall ends up being a lot harder.”

“Alright Socrates, relax.”

“Seriously bro, you know I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know,” you gave Mint a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, thank you.”

“And her name was Nayeon, you idiot.”

—

“Oh,” you gasped, louder than intended, caught off guard by how stunning Kazuha’s figure looked in her skirt and jacket.

“I’m not overdressed am I? I know you mentioned it was a casual place, I can quickly go change if-”

“You look stunning, I love how it brings out your smile.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kazuha turned away slightly, blushing profusely.

It could not be any more obvious that she was nervous.

“Please, come in,” you opened the door wide and stepped aside, a rush of warmth flowing through your body. Kazuha gracefully stepped into your room, leaving you admiring her long, slender legs with each step. She paused ever so slightly as she walked past you before looking around your room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right there.”

Kazuha nodded before stepping across the room and taking a seat on your couch, placing her small black purse on the side table. You quickly stepped into the kitchen and placed two flutes on the counter before filling them generously with champagne and walking over to Kazuha.

“Thank you,” Kazuha respectfully accepted the glass with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, taking a seat next to her.

The two of you took a sip together before placing your glasses to the side. For a moment, she simply stared at you, smiling nervously. Without speaking, you slid your body closer before wrapping your arm around the back of the couch behind Kazuha’s body.

“You smell really nice,” Kazuha commented, leaning forward into you slightly.

“Do I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly.

“Yeah,” she mumbled softly right in front of your lips as she closed her eyes.

The world around you began to gracefully fade away, leaving just you and Kazuha in a shared moment of pure intimacy. Your lips met, gentle at first, a tender brush sending a spark through your body, before gradually becoming more passionate. You found yourself losing yourself in Kazuha’s warmth as your lips pressed deeper against hers.

While the kiss, slow and lingering, continued, your hand found its way to Kazuha’s thigh where it softly pressed against her soft skin. Your other hand fell from the back of the couch to the back of Kazuha’s neck. You savored each moment of closeness, that delightful hint of strawberry inundating your brain with a warm sweetness. Her hand gently made its way to yours, her delicate fingers softly intertwining with your own. The tenderness of your fingers lacing together amplified the connection - invoking a deeper sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.

Instinctively, your bodies pulled closer, your hand slid down from Kazuha’s neck to the middle of her back, while her arm snaked underneath yours to wrap around your body. The hold you had on each other tightened while remaining tender, a subtle dance of intimacy with your bodies as your mouths stayed glued to each other’s lips.

Finally, the two of you break apart the kiss, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. No words were shared, just an intense gaze as your eyes locked, turning the connection electric. For just a moment, the silence of your feelings was being taken in, the squeeze of Kazuha’s fingers against your body was all you felt.

Then, suddenly, she let go of your body as both of her hands grabbed your face while her lips collided against yours. Initially, you were pushed back by the sudden fierce urgency, but then with equal hunger and desperation you found your strength - now it was Kazuha’s turn to fall backwards.

The kiss was an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, blurring your senses until you found yourself with your hands on Kazuha’s hips as her back hit the couch. She spread her legs, making room for you to move even closer as your body nestled into hers, still with electricity and passion flowing through the kiss.

With audacious intrepidity, you slipped a hand up Kazuha’s skirt, resting it against the side of her soft upper thigh. She gasped into your mouth, but she didn’t pull away - in fact, she did the opposite. She curled her fingers into your hair, pulling you even closer somehow, your bodies colliding, a testament to your shared passion, urging you to keep going.

Everything just felt right. This kiss felt right. Kazuha felt right. Your brain was desperately trying to make sense of your heart right now, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion that you wanted, needed, Kazuha. Nothing else made sense, the connection was too compelling. Then, you finally pulled away, leaving Kazuha breathless and wide-eyed, you could really feel the fire that the two of you just shared. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as you smiled down at Kazuha who was smiling back.

“I should have asked earlier, but you eat sushi, right?” you asked as you sat back up.

“Of course, I love sushi,” she answered, still breathing heavily.

“Perfect, you’ll love this place,” you replied, helping her sit up by taking her hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, one second,” she paused, reaching for her glass of champagne and downing it. “Ready!”

—

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who woulda thought our day would end up like this?” Kazuha smiled as she picked up another piece of otoro.

“Breakfast is a wild thing to say.”

“Oh my God,” Kazuha choked, laughing at your reference once she understood what you meant.

“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her sake. “If anything, I’m surprised we’ve almost gotten through two meals without bringing it up.”

“Was I supposed to? I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience like that before,” you chuckled, taking a sip of sake as well.

“Trust me, it was new for me as well,” Kazuha replied. “I’m really enjoying spending the day with you.”

“I want to be completely honest with you, I really like you, a lot,” you started cautiously. “I know it’s super early, but I just feel something so special with you.”

“I really like you a lot, too,” Kazuha smiled warmly, showing you that smile, the one that absolutely melted your heart. “It doesn’t feel like the first day, it feels like we’ve been dating for a while already.”

“In a way, this is sort of the third date.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she giggled before turning slightly more serious. “So then, can I be honest with you for a second?”

“Of course you can, anything at all,” you replied warmly, leaning forward slightly to show her you were fully engaged.

“I promise it’s not because of attraction, because I really am attracted to you, but I sorta regret what happened in the bathroom this morning.”

“Oh my God, me too!” you couldn’t control your excitement. “Sorry, please finish what you were going to say.”

“It’s just that… it’s going to sound a bit stupid, so please don’t make fun of me for it,” Kazuha began blushing. “I almost feel like I ruined a special moment?”

“I swear if I had a ring I’d be on my knees right now, I thought the exact same thing!”

“Really?” her eyes lit up, making her the most pure and beautiful girl in the world in your mind. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since lunch, I wish we could have found each other without the stupid punishment.”

“Look, Zuha,” you reached your hand forward and gently took hers. “It happened, but we can move on from that. I think you’re very special, I’d love nothing more than to see this out properly if you’re also willing.”

“I am,” she smiled softly, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, I think the first day is still a bit too early.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “Let’s forget this morning ever happened and we can do things properly. The way we want.”

“I’d love that,” she blushed again.

“I have another one, sorta related.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“What do you think about being exclusive? I get it if you think it’s too early.”

She pondered the question for a moment, taking another sip and slowly putting down her glass before answering. “I don’t think it’s too early, at least, I don’t feel like it is,” she answered slowly. “I’m not actually talking to anyone else right now, but I’d be willing to make this exclusive if you are.”

“Me too.”

Kazuha hesitated, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s complicated,” you added.

“Oh, alright,” she replied, looking a bit disheartened.

“There’s this girl,” you began explaining. “We’re not in a relationship or anything, but we have a bit of a friends-with-benefits type thing going on.”

“Oh.”

“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry, but I really want to be honest with you, and of course I promise I’m done with that stuff now,” you replied softly. “My last serious relationship had some… I just don’t want to go through that again, I’d rather be honest with you about everything.”

“I get that, my last relationship also wasn’t great,” Kazuha frowned. “No, you’re right, thank you for telling me. If you don’t mind, do you think we can maybe keep past relationships to ourselves going forward? Sorry, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to hear-”

“You don’t have to explain, trust me, I get it,” you interjected warmly. “And I’ll say the same for you. We’ve both gone through stuff. I'm here if you need someone to talk to about it, but I don’t need to know every specific detail. The past is the past, it doesn’t affect whatever our relationship ends up being.”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled again, visibly relaxing as you spoke the right words. “Do you mind if I step away to the bathroom real quick?”

“Of course not, but you have to promise me you won’t pull that trick again,” you answered, flashing her a suspicious look. “I told you I’m treating you to dinner, this one’s on me.”

“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I promise.”

With that, Kazuha got up from the table, gracefully making her way across the restaurant. Her movements, fluid as possible, had you completely in awe, unable to take your eyes away. The way her skirt showcased her perfect legs, accentuating those meticulously sculpted curves, she had your breath catching in your throat, mesmerized and captivated by her grace.

She left this imprint on your mind, convincing you that she was something special. The honeymoon effect was hitting hard, even though you weren’t officially together, you knew it was inevitable at this point - you were going to make Kazuha your girlfriend.

—

“I’m getting this.”

“No you’re not,” you pushed her hand away and tapped your card against the reader.

“You got dinner, this isn’t fair,” Kazuha argued.

“And you’re pretty, what’s your point?”

Kazuha began blushing again, her fingers struggling to put her card back into her wallet. “Th-That has nothing to do with anything,” she stammered, unable to hide how flustered she would get whenever you gave her cheesy compliments.

“Sure it does,” you replied, reaching forward and taking her card from her shaking hand and inserting it into her wallet for her. “I appreciate the gesture, but really, it’s like four dollars, not a big deal.”

“Alright fine, thank you,” she replied, cheeks still flushed a light pink as she accepted her wallet back. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope, first time,” you answered as the two of you sat down. “You?”

“Yeah a couple of times, it’s really good.”

“Ah, so that’s how you picked the flavor so quickly.”

“Actually, it’s my first time trying this one,” Kazuha giggled nervously. “I kinda wanted to try something new, make a new memory with you…”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That is actually so sweet, wow,” you muttered, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Hopefully it’s good then.”

“Or really bad.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it,” Kazuha began explaining. “Just like when you go to a restaurant, you generally remember the really good and really bad, no one remembers the average stuff.”

“Ah I see what you mean,” you responded. “That’s true, but I promise you I’m not going to forget this ice cream no matter how good, bad, or average it is.”

“And why’s that?” Kazuha chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me, is it because you’re sharing it with me?”

“How’d you know?”

“You’re getting predictable,” Kazuha laughed, smiling brightly.

“And you’re so-”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

The way her face lit up when she smiled was absolutely enchanting. She didn’t know it, but she had you wrapped around her finger, you were starting to think you’d do anything for this girl. No, you already knew it, you would do anything for this girl. Your heart rate whenever she smiled was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your sundae, enjoy!” a cheery staff member dropped off the bowl of ice cream at your table. “Let me know if you need anything else!”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled respectfully at the young girl before turning back to you. “It looks good.”

“Then let’s find out if it’s as good as it looks.”

Kazuha picked up her spoon, scooping up some of the cookie crumbles and fudge ice cream onto it before holding it out for you. Taking her lead, you opened your mouth and let her feed you.

“Wow,” you mumbled as the taste hit your tongue. “That is seriously way better than I expected.”

“Is it?” Kazuha looked at you with glee.

“Yeah, here,” you picked up your spoon and returned the favor, feeding Kazuha the ice cream. Her eyes lit up immediately - she was so unbelievably cute. “Right?”

“You weren’t kidding, that’s amazing,” Kazuha gushed, going for another bite.

Something you noticed, and loved, about Kazuha was that she wasn’t afraid to eat. Even though she was exceptionally feminine and graceful, she wasn’t shy when it came to food. It was adorable, especially with how expressive she would be when the food was good. Within just a minute, full of spoon hitting glass, the bowl of ice cream the two of you were sharing was practically emptied.

“So, Zuha, you never actually told me, what’s your major?” you asked as you put down your spoon. “I just realized I never asked what you wanted to do after school.”

“I’d love to one day teach ballet, and my major is biology,” she answered, scooping out pieces of cookies from the bottom of the bowl before looking up at you and laughing. “You look shocked.”

“Sorry, it’s a lovely dream, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you chuckled. “So I guess the next natural question would be why the hell did you pick biology if you want to teach ballet?”

“Well, I’ve been training ballet my whole life,” Kazuha explained. “And I wanted to do something interesting and challenging on top of that, so I found myself in biochemical sciences.”

That would explain why she was so graceful, you thought to yourself. “That’s awesome, and quite admirable.”

“Thank you. It can be pretty tough managing all of that while still trying to keep some semblance of a social life.”

“You seem to be doing alright,” you replied with a smile. “Especially if you found time to go on a date with me.”

“I make time for things I want to do,” Kazuha smiled back, making your cheeks warm. “What, no cheeky response this time?”

“Sorry, sometimes it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than your smile.”

“There it is,” Kazuha laughed while rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I know it’s getting kinda late, but would you want-”

“I’d love to come over for a bit,” Kazuha cut you off, smiling brighter than ever.

—

“How could you possibly forget sugar?” you burst out laughing. “They’re cookies, that’s like, the most basic part.”

“That was Chaewon’s responsibility, not mine!” Kazuha defended herself. “Anyway, we tried making them without it.”

“You tried making cookies without sugar?” you laughed even harder. “I gotta know, how’d they turn out?”

“I don’t know, we ended up burning them,” Kazuha joined you in laughter. “I’ll have to make them for you some day.”

“After hearing about your baking skills, I think I’m alright,” you teased, picking up your glass of champagne and taking another sip. “I don’t think I’ll be buying your cookbook.”

“You sure?” Kazuha took a big sip before putting her own glass down. “I’ll even sign it for you,” she added, leaning closer to you.

“Depends what you sign it as,” you replied, putting your glass down as well, opening your arms for Kazuha to snuggle up with you.

“And what would you want me to sign it as?” she asked, her face right in front of yours.

“My girlfriend?”

“I thought we agreed it’s too early,” she whispered, moving her lips even closer to yours. “That one day wasn’t enough time?”

“It’s past midnight already,” you whispered into her mouth before leaning forward and closing the gap slightly.

“Have we really been talking for that long?” she whispered back, closing it some more.

And just like that, you found your lips softly brushing again Kazuha’s once more. The kiss was soft; Kazuha’s pretty eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into it, sweet and tender. The room went silent, completely still, as the air was filled with the lingering sounds of your lips colliding. A tender echo, her sweet breaths reverberating in your ears, perfectly describing the gentle and warm feeling you had coursing through your body as you kissed Kazuha. Delicate and calm, you got lost in her touch.

She brought her hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly, leaning into you. Meanwhile, your hand explored her body, rubbing against her core, feeling through her top how toned she was. Your hand slowly slid lower until it was resting against the side of her thigh, slipping just a bit underneath her skirt.

Kazuha pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, a hint of hesitation showing. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” she whispered softly.

“I’m in no rush,” you whispered back, pressing your lips forward again.

Her eyes shot wide open for a moment before she slowly closed them again, relief calming her down as she began gently prodding her tongue against yours. Then, to your surprise, she grabbed your wrist and gently guided it along her leg until your palm was resting against her soft ass before she brought her hand back up to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly grabbing your hair.

Following her lead, you gave her ass a gentle squeeze, making sure not to push past her boundaries. The way she kissed you, the increase in passion, was confirmation that she was okay with it. Her body was perfect, you got lost in the warmth of her skin, your fingers brushing just slightly against the fabric of her underwear by mistake.

Yet, she didn’t pull back at all. She didn’t seem to mind, at least that’s what her kiss was telling you. Kazuha was getting more and more aggressive with it, and soon enough you found yourself falling onto your back with Kazuha on top of you. Her hands which were previously squeezing your hair, returned to your face, cupping your cheeks again as her tongue pushed audaciously into your mouth.

Her passion was met with your own as you brought your other hand around her body, holding her perfectly sculpted ass in your palms. You gave her a few soft squeezes, addicted to her body, at this point your palms were placed directly on her ass, your fingers gently kneading her softness. Caution was slowly dissipating as you got more comfortable with each other’s bodies.

The moment felt like it was stretching, enveloping you in excitement, a sign of hopefully some future with the girl you were holding onto. However, even though you could have kept going all night, you could feel the natural end coming. With her cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile on her lips, Kazuha pulled back, breathing deeply above you.

“I could really get used to this,” she smiled warmly down at you.

“I’m definitely not going to stop you,” you smiled back before pulling her into your embrace, gently rubbing her back as you took in the lovely scent of her shampoo. “Zuha, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Kazuha giggled as she started to get off you.

Without hesitation, you pulled her back in even tighter. “Absolutely not,” you clarified, giving the top of her head a little peck. “I was just going to ask if you have class tomorrow morning.”

“I do,” Kazuha sighed heavily. “But it’s fine, I’ll skip it.”

“I can’t in good conscience be responsible for that,” you replied when Kazuha’s phone began ringing. “You going to skip that, too?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Kazuha groaned as she leaned over towards the table, nearly falling off the couch if it wasn’t for you catching her. “Thanks,” she giggled before answering. “Hello? No, I'm not still out. No, I'm not drunk. Yes Chaewon-ah, I’m safe. Are you done? Oh my God, bye.”

“Cookie girl?” you teased as Kazuha sat up and began stretching.

“Yeah,” she yawned, arms straight up, her top riding up just enough for you to see her perfectly sculpted abs. “I had a lot of fun today,” she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she let her arms fall to her side, shoulders slumped.

“I did too,” you smiled back, sitting up as well to give her another quick kiss. “Want me to walk you back to your room?”

“Actually,” Kazuha bit her lip nervously. “I kinda promised Chaewon that I wouldn’t drink tonight, I don’t really want her to know.”

“Zuha, you should have told me. We didn’t have to finish that bottle.”

“No no, I wanted to drink with you… I guess I felt safe with you,” she replied softly. “But now I have to ask, do you mind if I spend the night? I really don’t want to get scolded by her.”

“Uh, sure, but don’t you think she’ll be more concerned if you spend the night?”

“Nah, she’s going to have to get used to it anyway,” Kazuha replied casually while standing up and holding her hand out for you. “I’m going to be spending the night in my boyfriend’s room from time to time.”

“Boyfriend?” you stood up and grabbed her hand excitedly. “Does that mean…”

“Yes,” Kazuha silenced you with another kiss. “Boyfriend. Fuck timelines, I’m ready if you are.”

If only she could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “Definitely,” you smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze.

—

“I’m pretty impressed that you have all this makeup remover stuff,” Kazuha commented as she walked out of your bathroom. “You have girls over often or something?”

“Umm.”

“Oh, I completely forgot about…” Kazuha’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry, ignore that.”

“Her name is Sana, but no,” you answered honestly, ignoring her embarrassment. “That stuff is from when I was with my ex. She was the last girl I let in my room.”

“I see, well, it’s very convenient regardless,” Kazuha replied as she looked around your room.

“You’re more than welcome to borrow whatever clothes you’d like by the way, I assume you’re not sleeping in that,” you added as you took off your shirt and pants before getting into your bed, admiring how incredibly stunning Kazuha looked even without makeup - this girl was unreal.

“It’s fine,” a shy smile formed on Kazuha’s lips before she turned around and began stripping down to her underwear as well. “You don’t mind, right?”

“By all means, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I’m going to turn the lights off before I get in, alright?”

“Sure,” you replied casually while plugging your phone into your charger. “Just be careful, don’t trip on anything.”

“I will,” Kazuha responded as she shut off the lights. In the darkness, Kazuha took a second before slipping into the bed next to you, her beautiful face barely visible under the faint moonlight shining through your window. “Can I ask you another question?”

“You can always ask me a question.”

“How’d you like feeling my body earlier while we kissed?”

“Ah, what a question,” you chuckled. “Your body is fucking amazing Zuha, I can tell you work out a lot.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice littered with allure in the most teasing way possible.

“Your abs, they’re rock solid.”

“Let’s play a little game, how about you try finding my abs in the dark?” Kazuha teased, giggling softly.

“Sounds fun,” you smirked, reaching your hand across the bed. You fumbled around for a second until your hand made contact with skin, soft skin. It took you a moment before you realized what you were holding. “Yup, that’s a titty, and you aren’t wearing a bra.”

“You’re right,” she giggled, grabbing your wrist and sliding it down until your hand was rubbing against her core. “And these are my abs.”

“Damn, they’re so nice,” you moaned softly. “We should workout together, you could train me.”

“Sure,” Kazuha whispered before sliding your wrist even lower. “And how does this feel?”

“Zuha,” you gasped as she placed your hand between her legs, and sure enough, she wasn’t wearing anything. “What happened to not being ready tonight?”

“This is different,” she whispered. “I’ve already sucked your cock in a bathroom, this is pretty harmless if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but-”

“If you’re not comfortable, I won’t be offended if you pull away.”

Yeah, there was no chance you were doing that.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked carefully as you began rubbing between her legs softly, feeling how wet she was.

“Absolutely,” she muttered, sliding closer to you.

“Then I want this to be perfect,” you whispered back, sliding your other hand under her body and wrapping it around her, placing it on her chest, giving her tit a soft squeeze. “Tell me what feels good.”

“What you’re doing now is nice,” she moaned as you rubbed slow and steady circles against her clit.

“Good,” you breathed before leaning forward and finding her lips.

As you began kissing her, you started moving your fingers a bit faster, sliding down her slit every few circles, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. You used her moans as your guidance, feeling for when you hit the right spots, hyperfocusing on what made Kazuha feel good. Once you began finding a rhythm, figuring her out, you started speeding up some more.

“Fuck that’s nice,” she moaned, separating her lips from yours, breathing into your mouth heavily.

With that moment of opportunity, you shoved your mouth into her neck and began kissing her collarbone. At the same time, you pinched her nipple softly with one hand and eased one finger into her pussy, just up until the first knuckle.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped, grabbing the back of your head with her hand and latching onto your hair. “Go deeper.”

And that was exactly what you did, pushing your finger deeper while using your thumb to rub her clit. You also took the opportunity to move lower down her body, leaving her neck and putting your mouth on her nipple, sucking it taut. With your mouth on one nipple and your finger lightly pinching the other, you found something was working because Kazuha’s whole body was moving up and down with her moans at this point.

Your fingers worked nonstop, gently fucking her pussy, daring to go deeper with each thrust. It was a balancing act of making her feel good and making sure you don’t go too hard, a balancing act that you were succeeding in, clearly. But you wanted more.

“Zuha,” you pulled back, looking up at her. “Can I go down on you?”

Even in the darkness, you could see her bite her lower lip nervously. “Maybe just… just fingers tonight… if that’s okay,” she mumbled quietly.

“No problem,” you whispered back before leaning forward and kissing her again.

She was hesitant for just a second before she got back into it, that burning passion returning with a vengeance. As you kissed her, you went back to slipping your finger into her soft pussy. She was warm, and incredibly wet, a soft wet squishing sound filled the room, mixed with the sound of your kiss, as you pushed your finger in and out of her.

With your tongue down her mouth and one hand gently massaging her tit, it really didn’t take much longer for you to start feeling Kazuha’s insides squeezing against your finger. In rhythmic beauty, she began moaning into your mouth, gasping and panting as her pussy pressed down hard. You slipped your finger out and began rubbing soft circles around her clit, making sure not to press too hard.

Kazuha rode her orgasm out for as long as she could, making sure to never separate her lips from yours. It wasn’t until her body finally relaxed did she stop kissing you. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel around you,” Kazuha mumbled, rubbing wrapping her hands around your body gently. “To think, I only met you because of that stupid punishment.”

“You’re telling me,” you gave her a small squeeze. “I can’t believe how quickly things are moving.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed. “I guess I set the tempo kinda fast this morning.”

“Zuha,” you paused to give her cheek a kiss. “We agreed to forget about that silliness, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I know, but I can’t exactly forget what I did,” Kazuha laughed softly. “Seriously I promise I’m not that type of girl.”

“Zuha-”

“Like, I know it kinda seems like it with what happened this morning and the fact that I’m literally laying in your bed naked, but I swear-”

“Zuha!” you interrupted her. “It’s fine, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t really like you. So what if things are moving fast, who cares?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Let’s just let things happen, do what feels right,” you added, playing with the muscles on her back. “Whatever feels natural, I’m here with you and committed to making this work.”

“Then how about you let me take care of you?” Kazuha giggled softly.

“What?”

“You realize I can feel everything in this position, right?”

“Alright well with how fucking hot you are, there’s not a straight man on this planet who wouldn’t be, not in this position.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Kazuha whispered, leaning back so that she was face to face with you. She slowly snaked her hand down your body, softly rubbing your shaft through your underwear. “It would be pretty cruel of me if I didn’t, not after what you just did for me.”

“I’m happy just holding you, there’s no pressure for you to do anything tonight,” you replied, your breath hitching as Kazuha slipped her delicate fingers down your waistband. “Really, Zuha, if you’re tired it’s totally fine.”

“Let’s be real with ourselves,” Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you before smiling softly at you. “Neither of us are sleeping much tonight.”

“Is that so?” you moaned as she took a gentle grip on your shaft.

“That’s right,” she whispered before pushing you onto your back. Then, inch by inch, she planted kisses down your body. She started at your neck, moving lower, kissing your chest tenderly, all the while still stroking your cock. As she moved lower down your body, she started stroking faster and faster, pausing only to yank your underwear down. “Did I ever tell you why my punishment involved sucking someone off?”

“No,” you flinched as Kazuha let a glob of her warm spit fall onto your cock.

“Because I love sucking cock,” she answered in a whisper.

Before you could respond, Kazuha engulfed your cock in her mouth, making a firm seal around your tip with her lips, prodding softly at your hole with her tongue. Then, she lowered her mouth, swallowing your whole cock in one swift motion before slowly - agonizingly slowly - pulling back up to your tip. After that, she repeated the motion a few more times, plunging down your cock and slowly withdrawing. Any degree of awkwardness from the first time had been replaced with familiarity now as Kazuha worked your cock like an expert.

“Fuck me, Zuha, that feels so fucking good,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah?” she replied, her voice soft as sugar, before she leaned in and started kissing your balls.

“Yeah, the only shame is not being able to see that beautiful face.”

“Then turn the lamp on,” Kazuha cooed, tossing your blanket to the side and climbing over you, positioning herself between your legs before putting your cock back into her mouth.

As per her suggestion, you leaned over and turned on a small lamp you kept on your side table. With that, you felt your cock ready to completely erupt as you took a look at Kazuha who was staring up at you. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. You couldn’t hold back, not with how good she looked right now with her cheeks hollowed, moving steadily up and down your shaft.

“Zuha, you’re going to make me cum,” you mumbled, straining and squirming your whole body as you desperately tried to hold back. “I can’t…”

She wasn’t phased at all, she just kept on sucking your cock at the same excruciatingly slow pace. The next who-knows-how-many seconds went by in a flash, instantly yet somehow lasting forever at the same time. She never once broke eye contact, and her mouth never once changed tempo, all that changed was how much pressure she applied with her lips, expertly varying it to make your cock feel that much better.

It wasn’t until the first burst of your cum flew into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, did she finally stop moving. As your cum began volleying into her mouth, she held her lips tight around your cock, making sure not a single drop leaked through the smirk that formed on her face. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, were fading into adorable little crescents as she proudly accepted all of your cum into her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” you cried out, your cock still pumping away.

Kazuha waited until the impulses slowed down, she let you slowly regain strength, but then as she felt your body relaxing, she started bobbing her head up and down your cock again as fast as she could.

“Please,” you moaned as your cock went into a frenzy, the final few shots of cum flying into Kazuha’s mouth. “Holy fuck!”

Once you were finally done, Kazuha slowly pulled back, letting a fountain of your white cum spill down your shaft as she lifted her lips off, tilting her back before swallowing everything in her mouth.

“I thought there was a lot last time,” Kazuha giggled, unable to contain her proud smile as she grinned from ear to ear. “But there’s so much more this time.”

“Zuha that was so fucking good, look,” you opened your eyes wide. “I’m literally in tears.”

“Good,” she smirked before leaning forward and using her tongue to scoop your cum off your shaft into her mouth. “I’ll do this for you whenever you want. Every night if you want.”

“I would literally die,” you inhaled sharply as her tongue grazed against your tip. “I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all day.”

“Did you really like it that much?” she asked while licking nearing your shaft, looking for more spilled cum.

“Zuha,” you sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “Yes, I don’t know how to convince you.”

She looked deep into your eyes, her beautiful round eyes shimmering in the dim light of your room. Those beautiful features, the perfect face, sporting a soft expression as she stared at you. “I believe you,” she whispered before closing her eyes and tilting her head.

Without hesitation, you met her movement and pressed your lips firmly against hers, bringing your hands around her body and feeling her back. Her skin was so soft, you wanted to touch and feel her body forever. Unfortunately for you, the kiss did not last forever, and eventually you had to let go of her.

“I know we agreed not to talk about exes, but can I tell you something?” Zuha asked as she snuggled up in your arms.

“What’s up?”

“He’d never kiss me after I-”

Before replying, you pushed her chin up with a finger and kissed her mouth again. “Sounds like an idiot, no offense,” you replied casually. “I’ll never understand that. If I’m willing to suck on a girl’s vagina, I feel like kissing after head is really not a big deal.”

“I’ve never actually had anyone…” her voice trailed off.

“Zuha,” you let go of her and sat up, looking down at her. “Is that why you didn’t let me go down on you earlier?”

Her cheeks turned red as she avoided your gaze for a moment before she looked back up at you and nodded slowly. You bent forward and kissed her again, repeatedly, on the lips for about a minute before sitting up again.

“It’s entirely your choice, I’d never make you do something that you’re not comfortable with,” you began softly while rubbing her thigh. “But I want you to know, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel good.”

“I just can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed,” Kazuha admitted quietly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with you, because I am, I just don’t know…”

“I never want you to feel embarrassed around me,” you spoke softly as you moved down the bed and began slowly spreading her legs. “Do I have your permission?”

She hesitated again, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she nodded, her eyes shimmering as the early signs of dawn crept through your window.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered back, adjusting herself to get more comfortable.

“Then just relax,” you instructed her softly before pressing your lips below her navel and leaving a long, very drawn out kiss on her skin. Then, as you slid a bit lower, you paused to reach up and grab Kazuha’s hands. She took your lead, interlocking her fingers with yours and taking a deep breath. “You’re so incredibly breathtaking, just tell me what feels good,” you murmured, letting the breath of your words hit her pussy.

Your mouth began drooling at this point, overwhelmed by how enticing Kazuha’s pussy looked right now as the sun crept through the window some more, making her body glisten beautifully. It was enchanting. You pressed your lips to her pussy, holding steady as Kazuha took a deep breath, letting her get truly comfortable with your touch before giving her pussy a tender kiss.

“You alright?”

“Mhmm,” Kazuha breathed, giving your fingers a little squeeze, encouraging you to keep going.

Even that small taste of her body had you desperate for more. You wanted nothing more than to shove your face as deep into her pussy as physically possible, to suck and lick her until the sun went down again. But this was less for you, and more for Kazuha, so you took it slow.

With your mouth opened wide, you carefully pressed down on her pussy, creating a seal with your lips and her skin. She squeezed your hand again as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against her folds. You began pressing down, applying pressure with various parts of your tongue, truly relishing in the slight tang of Kazuha’s pussy. She tasted so addicting despite it being so subtle.

And just like that, you were addicted and completely consumed by Kazuha’s taste. Paired with the sounds of Kazuha moaning as you applied more pressure with your tongue and lips, you were in heaven. You moved around, exploring Kazuha’s body to your heart’s desire, pausing occasionally to give her inner thighs kisses before latching back onto her pussy.

The more you feasted, the more she gave. Your lower face was completely drenched in Kazuha’s wetness as she leaked all over you. It wasn’t possible to lap it all up, despite how hard you tried, but you tried nonetheless. As her pussy, wet and warm, responded to your touch, her moans became even more vocal. She was definitely trying to stay quiet to the best of her ability, but she was failing as she got closer.

Especially now, as you could feel her body trembling slightly, each lick made her body jolt. Each kiss sent her into a frenzy. Her moans crescendoed as you sped up, sucking and licking her pussy with all of your power, and her thighs began pressing against the sides of your head and her fingers threatened to crush yours.

Then, with a particularly hefty gush of pleasure jetting out of her pussy, Kazuha began crying out in pleasure, her body convulsing in your mouth. “Oh fuck,” she sobbed, digging her nails into the back of your hands. “That feels so good.”

All you wanted to do was make her feel good - nothing brought you more pleasure. You held yourself in place between Kazuha’s legs, not that you could move even if you wanted to thanks to how hard her legs were clamping down on your face, and you gently teased her pussy with your tongue, giving it a few flicks before planting a very soft kiss on her clit, sucking on it tenderly.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Kazuha moaned, letting go of your hand and pushing your face away, detaching your mouth from her sensitive clit. “It’s too much.”

As soon as she pushed your head away, you dove back in and started kissing her thighs, switching back and forth between them. You knew her pussy was far too sensitive right now, the most you did was let your breath hit her skin, even that earned a full-body shudder. You gave her a final kiss on each thigh before crawling back up the bed next to Kazuha.

She turned to face you, and without saying a word, she lunged for your mouth, kissing you passionately and deeply - harder than ever. You let her take control, she got to guide the kiss, regulate the passion to her desires. Kazuha went on for a bit, even wrapping her leg around your body, rubbing her warmth against you until she was finally satisfied. She backed up, looking you straight in the eyes, the most precious girl you have ever seen in your life.

“That was amazing,” she muttered quietly, unable to contain her smile.

“You’re amazing,” you replied, giving her butt a small pat before glancing at your window. “The sun’s up.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Me neither,” you smiled back, giving her another kiss. “So, what should we do?”

“Do you have class?” she asked.

“I’ll skip it if you skip yours.”

“I’m definitely skipping,” Kazuha giggled.

“Then I guess I don’t have class.”

“Perfect,” she turned around and snuggled her body into yours.

Within just a minute of being in your arms, the ‘not sleepy’ girl passed out, pushing against your body with each deep breath she took. You gave her one last gentle kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

---

A/N:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I've been wanting to write this for so long and I finally decided to sit down and get to it. Words really cannot explain how into Kazuha I am at the moment, but hopefully this fic at least shed some light on my recent addiction over her.

I don't know what to work on next. The next Dating Seraphs chapter is going to be kinda Kazuha heavy, so I kinda don't want to post that right after this. I think this fic is the first time I've blatantly teased some of the other idols who will be appearing in Roommates, I hope that's exciting for some of you!

Maybe I'll try releasing something else around the New Years, we'll see. I'd love to hear what you guys think about this fic though, I can't rememember the last time I wrote this much straight up one-on-one fluff in a fic. There's going to be a third part to this mini series, and I promise you that one will have some sex scenes!

[ahqkas]

Could you do the bamboos doing the tiktok trend a boy who jacket and kind please

♯JACKED AND KIND ( the batboys doing the ‘jacked and kind’ tiktok trend with you ! )

— gn!reader, dick & jason & tim ( separated ), cursing, not edited

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

this man would literally be so hyped about doing the trend with you!!

your boyfriend stood behind you as you positioned your phone just right, angling it to catch the best angles. he doing some simple stretches, probably the same ones he did whenever he got ready for one of his patrols. you watched in the reflection your phone provided how his navy blue shirt fit his torso, wrapping and stretching around the muscles without any real effort to show off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. you could also point out the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. he knew exactly how good he looked.

“okay,” you took a step backwards toward him once you were satisfied with the preparation. “don’t let me down.”

a chuckle left his throat at your words while he met you halfway in the steps, taking a few steps forward so he could be standing behind you in order to record the trend. “baby, letting you down isn’t part of my vocabulary. lifting you up, on the other hand . . .” he trailed off with a wink and you managed to lightly slap his bicep before the countdown went off and the video started recording.

the song started playing from the phone — “slim pickins” by sabrina carpenter — and you tensed into position, facing the camera. you felt the warmth of his large hands on your hips before he touched you ( his touch was steady, as if he had done this a million times before ).

with an almost effortless motion, dick lifted you up in the air for a second before you made contact with his shoulder. you squealed in surprise from how quickly the whole thing happened and tried to balance yourself on top of him. he adjusted his grip on your knees while flexing his biceps for the camera, showing off the pure muscle with a large grin etched on his pretty face.

he looked confident, like he was the first man to ever grace the earth, even swaying a bit on his feet. show-off. the song continued playing, and just as the lyrics — “a boy who’s jacked and kind” — faded, dick followed it by lowering your body down in a quick move, catching you in a bridal style before you could even process what was happening.

“dick!” you couldn’t help but gasp this time. you haven’t seen this feature in the trending videos yet, and you were pretty sure you two would end up viral with just this move alone. you could picture the comments already.

“get a room”

“i miss my future bf”

“ON MY PHONE? ON MY WIFI? ON MY ACCOUNT??”

he really was jacked and kind.

. . . JASON TODD !

jason would kill this trend without even trying.

you had been begging him for the last hour about doing one of those new trending tiktok videos. the ones where couples did something ridiculously romantic which caused the whole comment section to show what’s it like to be born a hater (“so cute!! BLOCKED” “reacted "👍🏻" to your message” “i’m sleeping on a highway tonight guys” ). jason had been through countless trends already, but you were extra set on doing this trend with him.

“jason, come on! it’ll be fun, i promise.”

he dropped the book he was reading on the coffee table with a dramatic sigh, turning to look you in the eye. “i swear, every time i turn around, there’s another damn trend going viral.”

but there was no real annoyance in the tone of his voice. he could act all rough and nonchalant, but deep down, he adored you with all his heart and soul. he’d never admit it aloud, but you got him feeling things he didn’t quite know how to process.

you looked over at him with those pleasing eyes he could never resist. “please, jay?”

letting out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard, your boyfriend stood up from the couch and walked over to where you were standing in front of your phone. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath lowly with those beefy arms crossed at his chest.

“i promise this will be the last one.”

“uh-huh.” jason didn’t want it to be the last one.

you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him while you set your phone up. “you know how this works, right? just pick me up and place me on your shoulder.”

you didn’t have a single doubt about him not being able to pick you up. jason was a big guy, he could manhandle you all you he wanted without breaking a sweat, you knew that. he was going to pick you up.

“alright, sweetheart. get over here.”

the song started playing as soon as the timer was up and you felt his hands sliding up your thighs as he bend over a bit before he wrapped his forearms around the meat of your legs. he picked you up effortlessly like you weighed nothing, not a single sound of protest leaving his lips from the motion. your laugh filled the room when you made contact with his broad shoulder and you wrapped your arm around his neck, leaning slightly closer to him for the video to capture.

jason didn’t flex his arms, didn’t need to show his strength off. he simply wrapped his hands around your thighs, fingers kneading the soft muscles as he helped you balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall and make a blooper instead.

“see? no big deal.”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

tim was never one to enjoy attention, especially not the one that came with being on camera.

but when you, with your sweet smile and convincing voice, had asked him to do yet another one of your tiktok trends, he couldn’t really say no.

“tim, please? you’ll love it, i promise,” you pleaded with him, already setting up your phone with the timer set straight on because you knew he wouldn’t resist you. he never did.

and he didn’t this time, either. “what’s this trend about again?”

you practically bounced over to where he was standing with pure excitement written all over your face. “it’s a lifting one. i just need you to pick me up exactly when the songs say ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’. simple, right?”

“i really don’t think–“

“oh, come on! you’re strong, and you’re always complaining i never let you have fun. this is fun, tim.”

at that, he let out a long sigh while his hand rubbed the back of his neck. he was thinking, deep in thoughts. but you were really really really hard to resist when you got like this — all pleading and loving with him. you had this look in your eye, he had realized, one that said you would never stop bugging him until you got your way. and he realized he was down bad for that look.

“fine. but if i drop you, don’t blame me.”

tim stepped into position behind you, his eyes narrowing as he mentally braced for the lift before the video could ever start. he wasn’t sure how exactly this was supposed to go, but it didn’t look that complicated, right? it was just about picking you up and holding you there for a few seconds. simple. yet, he couldn’t help but overthink the whole thing.

his stance was little awkward, with his hands hovering near your waist as if he wasn’t entirely sure of his footing, trying to maintain that balance between not looking too stiff and not being too casual either.

for a split second, everything was going perfectly. your boyfriend had you in his arms, effortlessly supporting you on his shoulder while your laughter erupted from your throat. you knew tim would be perfect for this trend. but that’s when things went sideways.

his feet shuffled under him and he lost his footing on the carpet beneath him. his balance wavered which caused yours to do just as same, and before he could adjust and save the situation, your body slipped a little too far to one side. tim’s eyes widened, and he made a split-second decision to shift his hands, trying to catch you before you fell completely.

everything happened so fast.

you were halfway to the floor when his arm shot out, catching you by the waist just in time. for a second, it looked like he might’ve actually saved the moment — then his grip faltered, and you were both tumbling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs.

“ah!”

the two of you collapsed together, but your boyfriend managed to twist in the last moment, taking most of the fall with his own body before you could hit the floor completely. he groaned softly under you with his chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on top of him, your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and laughter.

“you almost dropped me.”

“i did drop you,” he replied dryly, but his voice held no real frustration — just the tiniest hint of amusement as he looked up at you.

it might’ve not been a video that would kill the whole trend, but it was a video that would never fail to make you smile. and that was enough for you.

[sheep-from-rad]

Photograph (Platonic Batman x reader) (second half inched on the yan territory)

Notes: I made a joke that I wasn’t held enough as a child. Well, jokes on me because it was apparently not a joke. I'm still shit at making endings, help Merry Christmas folks <3 

Masterlist 

dividers by: @strangergraphics

“Isn’t this for newborns?” 

Bruce sat shirtless on the room’s armchair. The room didn’t exist until this week, back then it was just another one of the big guest rooms inside the mansion. From formal, vintage patterned, dark green wallpapers it changed into a soft pudding yellow (Jason’s suggestion)  and the corners are filled with soft plushies. He looked down on his shirtless self again as Alfred stood by the crib to prepare the four month old infant. Years of fighting rogues but it was the thought of holding a baby that made him nervous. 

He takes a silent pride on his body, from his back muscles to his strong arms, from bruises and scars, he wears them like an intangible medal. He thought that the media would question how a businessman like him would have such build but he was easy to conceal it with his ditzy public persona. Ladies did love it but then again holding a lady and holding a baby are two different things. 

“You might have missed their newborn days but bonding as father-baby is not too late”, Alfred explained. “Ah, skittish like your father when it was his first time holding you” 

Bruce’s hands protectively closed around the sleeping babe. He reclines as Alfred helps lay the baby on his chest, one hand on the head and neck and the other under their bottom. Skin to skin and warm. Warm. He didn’t know an infant could produce such warmth. Is this how his father felt the first time he held him? The feeling of happiness like a small glowing bubble melting in his soul, a warm innocent light in the gloom. 

He tensed again when he felt his little baby moved, their tiny arms stretching with all their might. “Alfred I think they are —” Before he could finish his words, he found himself staring at a pair of (eye color) eyes with their little lips curled in a curious ‘o’. They can barely lift their head for a long time but keep doing so to keep the little staring contest going. “What are you doing? Are you memorizing me?” He cringed a little especially knowing that he just butchered the movie quote. The little cringing turned to a small panic when the baby’s little trembled. He braced himself for a wail but instead he was greeted by a gummy smile and a giggle. 

A giggle! Sure he missed the days of them being a newborn but they were here to witness the giggle milestone. “You think dad is stupid for quoting it wrong?” As if understanding his words, their giggles turned louder. “Master Bruce, language please.” The master of the house didn’t hear the older man nor the sound of the camera going off, capturing the moment. A picture, one of the many to cherish in the later years. 

✮⋆˙(alternate ending here because I can’t make up my mind) ✮⋆˙

Bruce found himself in the room that he hasn’t been in for years. Each step that he took was heavy as his heart, echoing regrets and apologies that needed to be said not just in words but also in actions. 

The room was empty with the exception of the barebone furnitures and thin sheet of dust. The only sign that someone once lived in the now lifeless room was a picture frame that was left behind and placed facing down. It was left behind as if mirroring how they had abandoned you. “Where has time gone?” he asked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He is envious of his younger self in the picture. He wished he could turn back time, hold you close and hold you tight, and reclaim the promises he had forgotten to do. Forgotten like the pictures and the memories and the wallpapers in the room. All yellowed on the edges and faded. 

The small sound from his phone snapped him from his trance, he had to compose himself before picking it up. 

“Dick?” 

“B, we found them” 

“Bring them home”

[jybyls]

First time || Jinx

Masterlist

Request by anonymous here

Warnings: smut, soft sex, virgin!Jinx, virgin!reader, fingering (r receiving), not proofread, bad writing, and I think that's it.

Words: 1.9k

- 📜🎧🍂 -

"You're so pretty." Jinx mumbled against your neck as you put her hair behind her ear. You hummed, smiling down at her while her lips were travelling down your body. You shirt wad already on the floor, leaving you in sweatpants and a bra. On the other hand, Jinx was still fully dressed. Your hands made their way down her top, slowly caressing her back, which made her shiver under your gentle touch. You didn't want to rush or make her feel pressured to do anything, so you always made sure to keep your touch loving and comforting with her.

"Can I ?" You whispered as your fingers traced random shapes on her shirt. The simple question was enough to make her stomach do a flip. She was still getting used to being asked for consent or opinion on random things. She eventually nodded, "Yeah, you can. I mean, you're already shirtless. It's only fair that way, right, toots ?" She rambled. You could tell she was slightly nervous, so you didn't waste a second to reassure her, "This isn't about fairness. It's about you being comfortable with this, love." You tenderly explained, a hand on her cheek, softly caressing her reddened skin. She nodded again, slowly but surely understanding the situation. You kiss her nose to bring her attention back on you, "So ? What's your answer, baby ?" You murmured.

She suddenly kissed you and quickly pulled away, barely giving you any time to process what just happened, "The answer is yes." She said. Her lips inches away from yours. You nodded, letting your hands go underneath her top, unhurriedly taking it off. Her breath hitched at the cool air, hitting her now bare skin. You were mesmerised by the sight in front of you, your brain could barely think straight but you rapidly remembered who you had before you -a broken soul who needs constant reassurance- so you did your job, "You're stunning, Jinx. It's absolutely stunning." Your voice was full of adoration. The blue haired girl could only believe your words. A smile appeared on her face, and her eyes filled up with stars while looking into your fond ones. No words were spoken, but you both understood the other one's need and leaned into the most passionate kiss you've ever shared.

Your lips moved. I'm synchronisation as her tongue asks for entrance, which you gladly gave. Your tongues are now dancing with each other. The kiss was slow yet heated, hands roaming around every inch of your bodies like you guys were making sure to never forget what your partner's body looked like. The need and desire you were feeling towards one another was basically palpable, and you both definitely knew where this make-out session was going.

Her lips left yours, founding their place back on your neck as her hands went to your back to open your bra but nit before asking for permission that you happily gave. Her fingers quickly unhooked your bra without any problem. You gasped at her efficacy, which, of course, busted her ego. She smirked, taking your bra off to throw it somewhere in her room. Her eyes fell on your breasts, "Oh wow. Didn't know you were hiding all that under your clothes, baby." The rasp in her voice came out strongly, making you melt. Your cheeks reddened at her comment. It made you feel confident, but you couldn't help but ask, "You like it ?" You mumbled, feeling insecure. Jinx's eyes widened, "Like it ?! I love it ! You're gorgeous, toots. Wanna workship you, to be honest." The last past of her sentence came out as a whisper.

"Workship me ? Yeah, you can do that. Only if I get to workship you back ?" You smiled, and she nodded. Her lips found your neck again, going down to your cleavage. She took your time before going further and kissing between your breasts. You breathed heavily but tried to keep it steady. Jinx noticed your irregular breath, so she put her hand on where your heart was and helped you breathe more steadily. "You're safe. Don't worry, doll." She whispered, her lips making their way to your breast. She held your hand, interviewing your hands together when she kissed around your breast and then sucking on your nipple. You let out a soft moan of her name, which indicated her she was doing. She was proud and aroused at the same time. She could already tell this was her favourite sound. She gave attention to both your breasts, massaging the one she wasn't sucking on, eventually leaving small hickeys. You whimpered and moaned each time her lips touched your nipples, you couldn't get enough, and you wanted more of her.

"Jinx..." Your hips shyly jerked, she smirked, "Yes, toots ?" She answered while kissing your abdomen that contracted to the feeling of her lips. She didn't help your state when her hand left your breast to caress your side. You shivered under her touch, only then did you remember to answer her question. "Can we go further ?" You murmured, feeling slightly ashamed for some reasons. Jinx smiled up at you, "I'm ready to go further. Are you ?" You immediately nodded, and a 'yes' quickly left your mouth.

She pecked your lips, her hand leaving yours to undo your pants, your hands instinctively did the same with hers. Now both your pants are off, and your girlfriend didn't wait a second to love on your thighs, proudly smiling at the wet patch on your panties. She was glad you couldn't see how wet she was because she wanted to keep her pride, even if it wouldn't last long. She kissed your legs as you caressed her hair. Her mouth found your panties, looking up at you to make sure you weren't uncomfortable. And you weren't. You were getting impatient because of how painful the pool between in your panties felt.

She understood the message and took your panties off. Her breath hitched at the view of your bare pussy, "God... so pretty. You're absolutely perfect, my love." She praised, "Can I ?" You blushed at her words and nodded, "Yes, you can. Please." You begged and obviously Jinx gave in. She kissed your inner thighs then your clit, your body trembled, you moaned her name. "Feels good ?" She whispered. She was worried she wouldn't be able to make you feel good since she never done this before. "Yeah, you can keep going, darling." You panted, she nodded. She licked up your folds and kissed your clit again, you moaned and your legs shook. She couldn't get enough of your reaction so she kept going.

She sucked on your clit with precautions, her hand massaging your thigh, the other one back into yours, your hand never left her hair. "Should I put a finger in ?" She wondered, you hesitatingly nodded. You've only felt your own fingers inside of you so you were scared, however you wanted to take this step with your lover. "Yes, you should." You murmured, she came up to you to kiss your lips then sweetly smiled at you, "I'll try my best." She whispered, "I'm sure you'll do great." Your hands enveloped her face. You felt her finger going up your folds, leading you to tremble, she massaged your clit in circular motion as she slowly went in. Your walls felt tight our her finger, a gasp came out of your mouth to the feeling of her inside you, she didn't dare to move until you gave her the go and that didn't take long for you to give it to her.

She started moving her finger, she made sure to hit every spot inside of you, her eyes glued to yours not to miss any of yours reaction so she's know when she hit the that spot. She was steadily stirred, listening to your little moans and whimpered that made her ears go red. She felt herself getting wetter, but she brushed the thought away to focus on you and only you. Jinx's finger curled against your gummy walls it sent a shot of pleasure through your body, one that you've never felt before, your back arched with your mouth leaving a moan of her name. Her pupils went darker of lust. She wanted to give you more without overstepping your boundaries.

"Do, um, do you want me to add a finger ?" She unsurely asked, scared of your reaction. However, you were so lost in bliss that you couldn't even think straight. You eagerly nodded and only wanted to feel more of her. Jinx smiled and gently rubbed her other finger against your folds before entering your tight cunt. You moaned out loud, you've never felt so full in your entire but, gosh, it felt so good. "Jinx, fuck, you can go faster." You had a time forming a sentence but thankfully your girlfriend understood your will and obeyed. She went faster and it was so immediate you saw stars within the second.

"Like that, baby ?" She kissed your jaw, teasing you because she knew you liked what she was doing, and it was only busting her ego, "Yeah, keep going, love." You panted, your back arching when you felt her fingers curling, touching your g-spot. A lusty moan came out of your mouth as you felt the heat in your stomach getting stronger. Your walls tightened around Jinx's fingers, which made her groan. The whole time she tried to keep her noises down but she never succeeded, the sight fo you in such deep pleasure in front of her was too much for her to stay quiet, leaving small moans, sighs and whimpers. She took the time to praise you every now, and then when she felt your walls tightening around her, she understood you were close.

She caressed your tummy, "It's okay, toots, let go. Trust me." She gently whispered, her lips ghosting yours, keeping her mouvement steady so you'd get your release soon. And soon you got it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you held into her arms, your body trembling in pleasure when your orgasm hit you. And it hit you like a train. You uncontrollably shook under her from your first orgasm given by someone else. It was so much more intense than all the orgasms you've had by yourself and you weren't complaining because, fuck did it feel good.

Jinx held you against her, kissing your head as she murmured sweet words into your ear until you calmed down. She was so incredibly proud that she made you come undone around her fingers. She couldn't live that moment down. She looked at you with so much love and care. Her pink eyes never looked so warm. Your reaction was impossibly endearing to her she wanted to see it again and again and again, but at the same time, she didn't want to overwhelm you. She was too lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear you talking.

"Jinx, baby ? Are you still with me ?" Your breath was irregular as you spoke, a small giggle leaving your mouth. Jinx shook her head to focus back on you, "Yeah, of course, I'm here, toots." And here she was, everything was so quiet, everything was always so quiet when you were here. No voices, no bad thoughts, nothing. Just you and her against the world. "Did you hear what I said, hun ?" You asked, your hand caressing her cheek, "Nah, your body distracted me." She answered with a cheeky tone that made you blush. You smiled and repeated yourself, "I said do you wanna go next ?" You whispered. She didn't know how to react because she didn't know if she wanted to go next. But she did. She agreed, letting you take care of her. She trusted you with her body.

The night was eventful but unbelievably romantic.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

A/n: Here's my Christmas gift for y'all :) Love you <33

[beloveds-embrace]

Wingless!Reader and Harpy!Gaz MY BELOVEDS!!!! She thinks she’s lost this thing that’s so crucial to her identity, so she must be unlovable now, and all he can think of is how amazing she is. Does she take a while to realize he’s hitting on her, or does he make it obvious immediately?

Short answer: it’d take her a while to accept that he is actually hitting on her! Thank you to @lostintransist, @sexc-snail, @ms-sasa, and @cod-z’s conversation for giving me inspiration for the long answer:

You hadn’t noticed him at first- not really.

It wasn’t like you expected to see another harpy in your small, isolated town. Not here, where the skies seemed too vast and empty, and you could pretend your feet had always been meant to kiss the earth instead of the wind. You liked it that way- liked the absence of feathers and sharp eyes that might rake over empty span of your back. You liked the illusion of anonymity.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the illusion shattered the moment Kyle “Gaz” Garrick walked into your life.

You’d seen him before, of course- him and the rest of his team. They were hard to miss, their sheer presence enough to bend the air around them, predatory in a way that set all your instincts on edge. That aside, it was hard not to notice newcomers immediately, and it was your neighbors that told you about them first. Anout him.

Gaz, though… He wasn’t sharp edges and thunder like the others. He was soft winds and dusky skies, his gaze steady but warm. Even so, you hadn’t lingered long enough to catch the subtle flutter of wings beneath his jacket, hadn’t realized what he was until it was too late to pretend not to see him.

Now, standing in the market square with the autumn breeze tugging at his dark curls, Kyle was unmistakable.

A harpy.

His eyes found yours almost immediately. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

You did. You dropped your gaze and turned away, pulse pounding and pretending like what harpy left in you didn’t want to chirp and seek him out to meet him proper.

The social instincts were easier to curb with no other harpies around.

It took days for you to stop feeling the weight of that look- curious, searching, too focused for comfort. It was worse when you saw him again, and again after that, his paths seeming to cross yours no matter how you tried to avoid him. Always the same glance, steady and unreadable. Always the same tug low in your stomach that you hated yourself for feeling.

You didn’t want his attention.

You didn’t want to see the moment his eyes shifted, when recognition would bloom into pity or horror or, worse, disgust.

And yet he never looked away, even when you knew he must have understood by now that you are wingless.

You were restocking shelves in the little general store you worked at when he finally cornered you- not literally, but it certainly felt like it. The bell above the door had chimed, and you’d looked up instinctively, only to freeze when you saw him there.

“Hey.” His voice was warm and crooning. Friendly. But there was a weight behind it too, something that made your feathers- what was left of them- prickle beneath your skin.

You murmured a polite greeting and turned back to your task. Maybe he’d take the hint. Hopefully.

He didn’t.

“Not many of us around here,” he said, like it was casual conversation. Like it didn’t make your stomach twist into tight knots, ash coating the back of your throat where there should’ve been excited tweets and chirps.

You swallowed hard, and yet the taste lingered. “No.”

The silence stretched; not offensive, not choking. Simply there.

“I’m Kyle.” He tried again, gentler this time though you still didn’t look at him.

“I know who you are.” Your voice came out rougher than you meant, but you didn’t soften it. You couldn’t afford to.

Please go away.

He didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he simply chuckled, and the sound was so nice. “Small town things, huh? And you are?”

“Busy.”

That, finally, gave him pause. You felt his gaze sweep over you, not sharp this time, but careful. Calculating. Like a hawk.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” he said after a moment, and there was no offense in it, just understanding. “But I’d like it if you did.”

You didn’t know why that made something in your chest ache.

You wanted to snap at him, tell him to leave you alone, but the words died before you could force them out. Instead, you turned and met his gaze properly for the first time.

You braced for it- for his eyes to drop, for his expression to change.

It didn’t.

He just looked at you, steady as ever, and then he smiled.

He kept showing up after that encounter.

He was persistent in a way that wasn’t quite pushy, but left you no room for retreat. He showed up everywhere, always lingering at the edges of your space like he was waiting for an invitation you never gave. Sometimes he bought things from the store where you worked, even when it was obvious he didn’t need them. Other times he just passed by, pausing long enough to offer a nod or a smile, feathers fluffing out ever so slightly, before continuing on his way.

He never asked about your lack of wings.

He didn’t need to.

You caught him watching you sometimes, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before he looked away. But there was no pity in it, no revulsion. Just… interest. Curiosity. Like he was trying to figure you out.

You hated how much it made your heart race.

The first gift appeared on your doorstep after a bad storm.

It was a feather- deep brown with pale golden tips, sleek and perfect. A molted primary. Harpy wings didn’t shed often, and when they did, the feathers were treasured. Given, and never discarded.

You stared at it for a long time before picking it up, your fingers trembling. No. Was this a cruel joke? A mockery?

But harpies didn’t gift feathers lightly. It wasn’t just a token, it would never be used for a joke. It was a claim. A courtship.

You told yourself it couldn’t be from him, even if he was the only other harpy in town.

But when you saw Gaz later that day, his eyes flicked briefly to your hand where you still clutched the feather like it might disappear if you let it go. His mouth curved in the faintest of smug smiles before he turned and walked away, wings lax and fluffy; happy.

(Un)surprisingly, it didn’t stop there.

A polished stone one day, smooth and dark and heavy in your palm, made its home on your windowsill proudly. A sprig of rosemary the next, tucked into a small bundle of herbs tied with twine left with a basket of hunted game. Little things, carefully chosen, left where you’d be sure to find them.

You should have given them back. Should have told him to stop.

But you didn’t. Couldn’t, didn’t want him to.

You kept them, every single one. And still denied anything related to the idea of courting.

The first time he touched you, it was an accident. Or so you led yourself to believe.

You’d been hauling a heavy crate in the back room of the store when you slipped, hissing as pain flared along your shoulder. Before you could steady yourself, his hands were on you- gentle but firm, catching you before you could fall.

“Careful, love.” He murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You froze.

It wasn’t just his touch; it was the way he leaned in, close enough that his wings brushed your arm, soft feathers ghosting over your skin. Harpies didn’t touch wings lightly. It was intimate, deliberate.

You stepped back quickly, your pulse hammering like a hummingbird. “I’m fine, Kyle.”

He didn’t move, dark eyes searching yours and wings still brushing over your skin like the calls of a siren. “Are you?”

You hated how much you wanted to lean back into him, when you finally pull yourself away with the excuse of having work to do. His eyes followed you regardless, and you pretended not to hear his pleased croon.

The first time you let him close, it wasn’t an accident.

You were walking home after sunset, shadows long and creeping. The streets felt too empty, too quiet. You told yourself you were imagining things- the prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling of being watched. But harpy senses were never wrong, even ones wingless-

Then you saw them.

Three men leaning against the alley wall, eyes sharp and predatory. Not hybrids- just humans- but that didn’t make them any less dangerous.

You didn’t stop. Didn’t look at them. But they stepped into your path anyway, smiles sharp as knives.

“Not in the mood,” you kept your voice steady, sighing in the quiet confines of your mind.

They didn’t move.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed behind you, cutting through the dim light; Kyle, wings spread wide and threating behind him.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to.

The men took one look at him- the sharp line of his jaw, the broad set of his shoulders, the feathers flaring at his back- and decided they wanted no part of him. They melted away into the night, quick and silent, and in no time they were simple specks of forgotten dust.

You let out a shaky breath, wrapping your arms around yourself as you turned to look at him. Despite the unpleasant encounter, he looed handsome like this, lip curled in disgust, jaw tight, brows furrowed.

Stupid thoughts.

“You okay?” Kyle asked, voice low. He kept looking around, on the look out in case anyone else tried their luck with you, and he hummed when he saw you nod.

You hadn’t realized it until now, but his hands were on your waist, tight but not enough to cause you any pain. You.. couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to let go, and so his hands lingered there.

Not too long- just enough for the heat of his touch to settle beneath your skin, warm and steady. Just enough for his thumbs to brush once, barely there, before he let go at last.

He didn’t step back, though.

“Come on,” he said, voice softer now, one wing open around you back like a shield. “I’ll walk you home, love.”

You didn’t argue. Couldn’t, not when the memory of sharp eyes and sharper smiles still clung to the edges of your thoughts. You nodded again, and when his wing brushed your arm- closer than any harpy should have dared- you didn’t flinch away.

Not this time.

You tell yourself you should have stopped it there.

Should have put some distance between you and Kyle before you let yourself sink any deeper than you’ve already allowed, but you didn’t.

You let him linger, let him watch you, let him keep leaving those little gifts like offerings. You let him walk you home when the streets grew dark and the wind grew cold, his wings always flaring slightly- protective, claiming. You invite him in, sometimes, longing for company yet unable to admit it to yourself.

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because some part of you- some buried, broken part that still ached for the wind and the skies- wanted to be claimed. Wanted the safety and warmth he offered so freely, even when you didn’t think you deserved it.

Especially then.

The next gift was the one that broke you.

You’d thought you’d grown used to them by now- the feathers, the stones, the herbs tied with twine. Small things. Careful things.

But this time, it wasn’t small.

It was a cloak.

Dark and soft, lined with feathers- harpy feathers. His feathers. Feathers that gleamed gold and brown, sleek and perfect. Feathers meant for flight; the same feathers that protected you, that stayed with you.

He’d given them to you.

His feathers.

The thought kept looping in your mind, loud and clear.

Your hands trembled as you touched the edge of the cloak, and you barely noticed when the door creaked open.

Kyle stepped inside, and his eyes softened the moment they landed on you. “Fits you, darling.” He said, low and warm as a setting sun.

“I can’t take this, Kyle.” You whispered, a deep ache attempting to burrow its way into the soft, vulnerable space between your ribs.

“Yes, you can.”

You looked up, and his gaze caught you, steady and unyielding. The ache melted away.

“Kyle-”

“It’s yours, honey.” He stepped closer, his wings shifting. “You’re mine.”

The words hit like a blow, but before you could retreat, he kept going.

“You think I don’t see it?” Kyle’s voice dropped, something raw and aching curling beneath it. “You think I don’t know? I don’t care about your wings, love. Never did. They do not make me think any less of you.”

You flinched, but he didn’t stop there.

He reached out, pulling you into the cocoon of his arms and wing. “You’re still a harpy. Still strong. Still you. Still the loveliest birdie I’ve ever seen.” His grip tightened, just slightly, and he hooked his chin over your head. “You’re not broken.”

Your throat closed.

He must have noticed, because his voice softened further, almost pleading.

“Let me keep you safe. Let me stay.”

You couldn’t breathe.

And yet, when his hand slipped down to tangle with yours, you didn’t pull away.

[reginamillls]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[theonottsbxtch]

WAR IS OVER | CL16

an: this has been in my drafts for so long and i’ve been so excited to share it with all of you! listen to happy xmas by john lennon to enhance experience or whatever. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! (if you don’t celebrate, then happy holidays and happy new year!) also this is low-key slightly angsty and emotional but HEA!!

airforce!charles x reader

wc: 2.8k

Snowfall had begun in earnest that December, blanketing the village in a hush so profound it felt as though the world itself were holding its breath. The young woman stood at the kitchen sink, hands submerged in icy dishwater, staring absently out the frost-etched window. The sky was a pale grey, a curtain of wintry gloom stretched thin over rooftops where chimneys smoked and whispered of warmth.

She glanced down at her hands, red from the cold despite the scarf wrapped snug around her wrists, and sighed. Dorothy and Julian were in the parlour, their laughter spilling into the house like sunlight. Dorothy had spent the morning cutting paper chains while Julian orchestrated a kingdom of tin soldiers on the hearth. Their joy pierced her heart like shards of glass—a reminder of Charles. Julian’s unruly hair fell into his eyes just the way his father’s had, and Dorothy’s cheeky smile carried the same tilt of mischief.

The letter was still hidden in her dresser drawer, folded too neatly for something so devastating. It had arrived in the brittle chill of early November, its official tone draining all warmth from the room as she read the curt words: "Presumed missing, believed dead." Protocol, they’d called it. A mechanism for closing doors, for stitching the torn fabric of lives left behind. But the wound in her heart remained unsewn.

The children didn’t know. How could they? She had tucked the grief away, smothering it beneath cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Mummy, can we have plum pudding this year?” Dorothy had asked, her face aglow with anticipation. She had forced a smile then, nodding and promising, though the thought of Christmas without Charles’s deep laugh, his steady presence, seemed unbearable.

As the evening descended, the village grew quiet save for the occasional crunch of boots on snow as neighbours hurried home. The lights on the tree—a scraggly thing Julian had insisted was perfect when they’d brought it in—glimmered faintly, their glow reflected in the baubles Charles had hung last year. She turned away, blinking back tears, and began laying the table for supper.

That night, as she tucked Dorothy and Julian into bed, their excitement was infectious. “Father Christmas is coming soon!” Julian declared, his small fists clutching the quilt.

“He won’t forget our house, will he?” Dorothy asked, her voice serious.

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. She kissed their foreheads, inhaling their innocent warmth, and closed the door quietly behind her.

In the stillness of her bedroom, she unfolded the letter once more. The inked words blurred as she stared at them. It was easier, somehow, to believe that the man who had written her so many tender notes, who had kissed her hand on their wedding day, was merely gone for now. Lost but not beyond reach. Yet the shadows of doubt loomed larger with each passing day.

She had told no one. Not her neighbours, whose own husbands and sons littered foreign graves. Not her children, who still whispered prayers for their father each night. She carried it silently, a solitary burden she could neither lay down nor bear much longer.

Outside, the bells of St. Mary’s chimed the hour, each peal a cruel reminder of time’s unyielding march towards Christmas. A Christmas that loomed hollow and bereft. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath misting the windowpane. Beyond, the world glittered as if untouched by sorrow, as if unaware of her breaking heart.

Christmas morning arrived with the world awash in golden light, the snow outside sparkling like diamonds. Dorothy and Julian burst into her room, their faces alight with the boundless excitement of the day.

“Mum! It’s Christmas!” Julian shouted, already tugging her from her bed.

Dorothy held a small package, wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “This one’s for you! We saved it, just for today.”

The sight of their shining faces filled her with guilt and gratitude in equal measure. She managed a smile, sitting with them by the hearth as they tore into their small pile of gifts. Wooden soldiers for Julian, a tin tea set for Dorothy—modest treasures in a time of rationing, but enough to spark joy in her children.

As they played, a commotion erupted outside. Shouts echoed down the cobbled street, punctuated by the sharp clang of a handbell.

“The war is over! It’s over!”

She froze, the words piercing through her like sunlight breaking a storm. From her seat on the rug, Dorothy gasped. “Mummy, does that mean Daddy’s coming home?”

She couldn’t speak, the question lodging like a thorn in her throat. All she could do was pull them close, and smile.

“Let’s go outside and celebrate!” She replied instead, walking over to the coat hangers.

She bundled the children into their coats and scarves, their squeals of excitement filling the small house. Dorothy’s cheeks were already pink with joy, her hands fumbling with her mittens.

“Mummy, hurry!” Julian urged, hopping from foot to foot. “We have to go see!”

She forced a smile and kissed the top of his head. “Go on, both of you. I’ll be just a moment.”

The children dashed out into the snow, their laughter spilling down the lane to join the jubilant cries of the neighbours. She closed the door softly behind them, the house falling quiet once more.

Leaning against the door, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, the tears spilling unchecked now that no one was there to see. The news should have been a balm, but it felt more like a cruel twist. The war was over, but Charles would not be coming back with the others. She was sure of it now, the hope that had lingered for so long finally extinguished.

The house felt cavernous again, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her chest. She moved into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underfoot. The sight of the breakfast dishes—half-eaten toast and crumbs left behind in the morning’s rush—only deepened her ache.

She braced herself against the sink, staring out at the frost-covered garden. Her shoulders shook, the sobs spilling out of her like waves breaking against a crumbling shore. She had carried this grief alone for so long, but now it threatened to consume her entirely.

“Mummy?”

The soft voice startled her, and she turned to find Dorothy standing in the doorway, her small face pinched with concern.

“Why are you crying?” Dorothy asked, stepping forward with cautious, measured steps.

“I’m not, darling,” she lied, hastily dabbing at her cheeks.

“You are,” Dorothy said plainly, slipping her hand into her mother’s. “But you don’t have to. The war’s over, and Daddy would want us to be happy. You should come outside. Everyone’s singing.”

The simplicity of her daughter’s words cut straight through her. She knelt, wrapping Dorothy in a fierce hug, the warmth of her small body grounding her.

“All right, love,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

Dorothy smiled and tugged her hand, leading her to the door.

The street was alive with celebration. Neighbours who had spent years steeped in quiet, rationed hardship now spilled into the snow-covered road, their faces alight with relief and joy. Someone had hauled a wireless outside, the strains of carols mingling with the jubilant cheers. A man passed with a tray of mince pies, offering one to Julian, who accepted with sticky-fingered glee.

Dorothy twirled in circles, her arms outstretched as snowflakes caught in her hair. Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her children with a tender ache. For their sake, she tried to let herself feel the joy that surrounded her, to bask in the miracle of peace.

“Mummy, look!” Julian called, pointing to a group of men raising a toast with tin mugs. “Maybe Daddy’s with them!”

Her breath caught. She scanned the crowd reflexively, knowing in her heart she wouldn’t find him there. Yet she let Julian cling to the hope she couldn’t bear to shatter.

As the afternoon waned, she gathered her children, their cheeks red from the cold, their hands clutching treasures gifted by neighbours—sweets, a small wooden horse for Julian, a knitted scarf for Dorothy.

Inside, the warmth of the house embraced them, the fire crackling merrily in the grate. She shepherded them upstairs, brushing away their protestations.

“Christmas isn’t over, Mummy,” Dorothy said, yawning despite herself.

“No, it isn’t,” she said with a small smile, tucking her daughter in snugly. “There’s still tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that.”

She kissed their foreheads, lingering just a moment longer to drink in their innocence. How had they carried on, so untouched by the weight that threatened to crush her? She envied them their resilience, their belief that the world could be made whole again.

Once they were asleep, she descended the stairs, the house eerily quiet once more. The fire in the hearth glowed faintly, its light casting long shadows across the room. She settled into her worn chair, pulling a shawl around her shoulders, her hands curled around a steaming mug.

The world outside had stilled. The street celebrations had quieted, the snow falling again in soft, measured drifts. Her thoughts wandered to Charles, as they always did when the house was silent. She tried to picture his face as it had been the last time she saw him, standing tall in his uniform, a brave smile hiding the fear she knew he felt.

A sharp knock broke through her reverie. She startled, her mug slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. For a moment, she sat frozen, her heart racing. Who could be calling at this hour?

She rose slowly, her legs trembling as she crossed the room. The cold air seeped in as she opened the door, her breath catching in her throat.

There he stood, framed by the golden glow of the streetlamp behind him. His uniform was tattered, his face pale with exhaustion, but it was him—Charles.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, his voice hoarse but warm, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Her hand flew to her mouth, a sob escaping her lips as the weight of the months, the grief and fear, melted away all at once. “I thought you were dead,” she choked, her words barely a whisper.

He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her tightly, solid and real. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his coat as he murmured soothing words, his voice trembling with emotion.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart felt whole.

For a long moment, she couldn’t let go of him. Her hands clung to his coat as if he might vanish if she dared loosen her grip. The snowflakes clinging to his hair melted into beads of water, and his warmth seeped into her, chasing away the cold that had lived in her heart for months.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered again, her voice trembling.

“I nearly was,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse with emotion and exhaustion. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his hand lifting to brush away her tears. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering as though trying to memorise her face. “There’s so much to tell you, love. The mission went wrong… we were shot down. Most of us didn’t make it. I was captured—held prisoner for weeks.”

She gasped softly, her heart breaking anew at the thought of what he must have endured. “Oh, Charles…”

“It’s over now,” he said, his voice steadying as he cupped her face in his hands. “I escaped when the retreat began. It was a long road back, but I’m here. I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere again. Ever.”

The tears came fresh, her relief pouring out in sobs that wracked her entire frame. He pulled her close, his arms encircling her as he held her tightly, anchoring her in the moment.

When she looked up at him again, he smiled, the lines of weariness softening into something infinitely gentle. She reached up, her hand trembling as she touched his cheek, then leaned in, her lips brushing his. The kiss was slow, delicate, and filled with everything she couldn’t put into words—her anguish, her longing, her love.

When they finally broke apart, his forehead rested against hers, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

“The kids?” he asked, his voice hushed, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment.

She smiled through her tears, taking his hand. “Come on,” she whispered, leading him up the stairs.

The house was quiet save for the creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She paused at the children’s door, easing it open with care. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Dorothy and Julian as they slept soundly, their faces peaceful.

Charles stepped into the room, his hand still in hers. He knelt by Julian’s bed first, his expression softening as he took in the sight of his son. His fingers brushed the boy’s dark hair, and his throat worked as though he were fighting back tears.

Then he moved to Dorothy, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before settling again.

“They’ve grown,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“They have,” she said, her own voice trembling. “They look so much like you.”

He glanced back at her, his eyes shining, and then turned to gaze at them again. “I can’t believe I almost missed this. Missed them.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the two of them standing together in silence for a long moment, watching their children sleep. It was a moment she thought she’d never have again—a moment that felt too precious to disturb, too fragile to let go.

When they finally left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, he pulled her into his arms once more. “I’m back,” he murmured against her hair. “Back for good. We’re whole again, love. Whole.”

The quiet of the house enveloped them as she led him to their room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar space that had so often been her refuge—and her prison—in his absence. The room felt warmer with him in it, the shadows less oppressive, the air lighter.

Charles stood just inside the doorway, his weary eyes scanning the room, as if grounding himself in the life he had fought so hard to return to. She turned to him, her fingers trembling as they moved to the buttons of his tattered coat.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on her face as she worked the buttons loose, one by one. The coat slipped from his shoulders, heavy with the weight of everything he’d been through. She caught it before it hit the floor, draping it carefully over a chair. When she looked up again, she saw his shirt beneath, threadbare and stained, a testament to all he hadn’t told her yet.

Her breath hitched, and she reached out to touch him—his chest, solid and warm beneath the worn fabric. Her tears came again, spilling silently as she rested her forehead against him.

“War is over, Cha,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s over.”

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her close. “It’s over,” he echoed softly, his voice steady, as if speaking the words made them real.

They stood like that for a long moment, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire downstairs and the whisper of the snow against the window. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw the same relief, the same raw gratitude that coursed through her.

Wordlessly, she led him to the bed, pulling back the quilt she had lain under alone for far too long. He eased down beside her, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh of exhaustion. She followed, curling against him as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close.

For the first time in months, the bed didn’t feel so empty, the darkness didn’t seem so vast, and the ache in her chest was no longer unbearable. They lay in silence, the words unspoken between them carried in the warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his breathing.

As sleep began to claim them, she whispered into the stillness, “You’re home, Charles.”

And in the soft darkness, he answered, his voice a balm to her weary soul: “I’m home.”

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[hxney-lemcn]

First Kiss — The Leftovers x gn! reader

summery: your first kiss with your lover.

tw: none.

a/n: I wasn't sure what to call the students who aren't vice/housewardens so now they're deemed the leftovers (sorry Cater 😔). Also, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

wc: 2.6k (~340 per character)

Master List | Housewardens | Vicehousewardens

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cater Diamond

The atmosphere was warm and soft as you both were hanging out in Cater’s room, is what I would like to say, but it was anything but that. You and Cater decided to have a ‘picnic’ (it wasn’t planned, you both bought your lunches and went to eat in the courtyard) and apparently your confession was a little too hot. What did your blabbermouth happen to say (was it really a blabbermouth if you were just telling a trusted friend something personal)? Well, you happened to let slip that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and for some reason Cater couldn’t wrap his head around that. He didn’t seem to know how to react, mouth opening and closing as he doubted your sentence. You were so pretty and he found himself falling for you so easily, so the thought of no one else seeing you the way he does left him flabbergasted. And the juicy gossip he was (he just needed to understand this better), he kept prying; ‘weren’t you curious?’ yes, ‘has no one asked to?’ no, ‘has no one asked you out?’ no. That last went sent him on a whole other spiral, but he tried to store that in his head for another time. By the end of his little interrogation, he felt frustrated for you. And sevens, that bashful, saddened look made his heart plummet, and gosh did he want to kiss you silly, to prove whatever false things were rattling in your mind at that moment were wrong, and it seemed that Cater’s control was slipping, the suggestion spilling past his lips before he could stop it; ‘we could kiss, just so you know what it feels like.’ His heart leapt as you eyed him like you were actually pondering it, and that little nod of your head made his heart race. The kiss was soft, hesitant, unsure, but sweet. Hands were kept to themselves, unsure how far you were both willing to cross the line, and as you pulled away, the both of you could only long for more.

“W-well, if th-there’s any other firsts you want to break, caycay’s always here~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Deuce Spade

The both of you just had the most spectacular date, you had a ton of fun and Deuce seemed to enjoy himself as well. The boy had been a blushing mess, tripping over words and trying to be as gentlemanly as possible, and you were eating up the cute display. He had argued that he couldn’t let you walk home alone, and so there you stood, on your doorstep just a few inches taller than normal. Deuce watched diligently, like there was a chance you would get hurt in the two steps it would take you to get inside (after what you experienced on campus it was a very real fear). You smiled softly at the dark haired boy, thanking him for the wonderful date. In return he managed to blush once more, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a proper response. So, to tease the poor guy some more, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, watching on in amusement as Deuce seemed to shut down. You hid your cheeky grin behind your hand as he spluttered, trying to say something, but he managed to cut you off guard as he stared in wonder, face a bright red, muttering out ‘could…could you do that again?’. Who were you to deny him? Holding his cheeks, you placed another kiss, this time on the corner of his lips before you found yourself showering his entire face in kisses. You weren’t sure where all this affection was coming from, but neither of you were complaining. As you pulled away once more, you bit your lip before acting on impulse and leaving the lightest, barely there peck on his lips.

“I-I…u-uh…th-thank you. I…I hope we can go on another date…soon.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ace Trappola

You were rightfully pissed. Ace had been teasing you nonstop about how ‘nobody wanted to date you’, and honestly? It was starting to get under your skin, your old (and normal) insecurities popping up once more. You have been working on it! And just like that he had erased your hard work in improving your mental health. And so what were you doing? Giving him the silent treatment. If he was going to be a jerk then you were going to ignore him. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle it, as Ace had been finding any and every way to get on your nerves. You clenched your fist as Ace continued to poke your cheek. You were either going to bite his finger off or twist his arm behind his back if he was going to keep this up. It wasn’t until he asked the dreaded question; ‘what did he do to get you so angry?’ The dam had been broken, and you found yourself venting all your frustrations on him, from his insults to how it affected you, it was all released. The look of horror on the ginger’s face made you feel somewhat satisfied. You were a bit surprised when he apologized so heartfeltly, he genuinely looked appalled at his own behavior for once. It was only a few weeks later when things took a turn. Ace was sleeping at your dorm, and the two of you were hanging out when he asked an out of pocket question; ‘do you wanna kiss?’ It was late, he was too tired to keep his filter up, and gosh did you look kissable (it was the main reason why he was teasing you in the first place). Against your better judgment, you agreed. The kiss was awkward, neither of you sure how far to go, but you’re kinda angry at how much you liked it.

“...you’re better at that than I thought…n-not that I think of kissing you or anything-”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jack Howl

You watched the weirdo in front of you with a blank face, wishing you could be anywhere but there. This guy decided he wanted to flirt with you, and he was doing it in the worst way possible. I mean who tries to pick someone up by asking to kiss them outright? You kept glancing at Jack, who stood intimidatingly next to you, buff arms crossed as he glared at the guy, but made no move to say anything. You felt a sneer fall over your lips unconsciously as the guy continued to try and shoot his shot, couldn’t he see he was getting nowhere? You tried to let him down nicely before, so this time you decided to be more blunt, stating that you weren’t interested and you don’t just go out kissing people. That was when the guy lashed out, crying out about how you were a jerk, that you were just like everyone else who only cared about themselves. It was when he looked like he was reaching out for you, and you flinched back for Jack to step in (quite literally). Standing in front of you his glare turned dangerous, fangs showing as he snarled, telling the guy to get lost. The both of you finally relaxed when the guy scrambled to get away, leaving you with the wolf beastman. ‘Thank you,’ You muttered, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. A smug smile tugged at your lips as Jack glanced away, a soft pink dusting his tanned cheeks. ‘Oh, did I miss?’ you teased, eyes catching the way his ear twitched. So, as the merciful person you were, you leaned up and left a small, short, gentle kiss to his lips.

“Hm, i-if you find yourself in need of help, d-don’t be afraid to come to me.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech

You had already found yourself in a tough predicament. You were in the clutches of Floyd Leech when he was in a bad mood. Sure, he was the one who sought you out to squeeze, but you wanted to make sure you didn’t make it worse in any way. So you resigned yourself to your fate as his personal human plushie as he squeezed you from time to time, burying his face in your neck as he grumbled on unintelligently about one thing and another. You brushed your hands through his hair, placing small kisses to the top of his head here and there, feeling relieved as he started to melt in your hold, teeth scraping against your skin as he smiled. You shivered at the sensation, hair on end once more. ‘Oh shrimpy~’ he cooed, giggling like a mad man, face suddenly very much in your own. ‘I wanna kiss’. The request was simple, blunt, but it still left you reeling. You weren’t sure why, in fact, you should be surprised it took so long for him to ask for one, but you still found your eyes widening and breath hitching at the spontaneity of it all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it (you suppose that was the appeal to Floyd). You could barely get out the words okay before Floyd pressed his lips to yours in a harsh manner, teeth clashing, lips being bit, hand on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away. In fact, he wouldn’t stop kissing you, it seemed like forever until he finally got his fill.

“Hehe, you better watch out shrimpy~ I’m already craving another.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Epel Felmier

Your eyes widened as you eyed the intricately carved apple, turning it around to catch every detail. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such a gift, but you were flattered nonetheless, your eyes finally raising up to meet Epel’s cyan ones. He looked bashful, cheeks tinted a light pink, eyes unable to meet your own. He tripped over his words, trying to make an excuse, stating that no one else was around so you might as well have it (you’ll ignore the fact that there were, in fact, people swarming around the cafeteria like flies). Without a second thought, you gave him a short peck on the cheek and continued business as usual. It wasn’t until Epel kept doing things for you, something that had only recently started. Epel…wasn’t mean by any means, but he also wasn’t one to help someone from the kindness of his heart. Sure, he’d do something for you before while complaining a ton, but recently he had been doing things without you even asking! It was strange, and he always seemed expectant afterwards, like he was expecting you to do something. Not to mention the little pout he thought he hid when you didn’t seem to do what he was anticipating. So, you decided to confront him, asking him outright what he wanted. Of course, he deflected, stating that he didn’t want anything and you were being crazy. A claim he wasn’t able to hide behind for long as you pointed out all the strange ways he’s been acting. Face burning red, Epel turned away, trying to keep his composure, but you seemed to be determined to break it. Your serious gaze locked onto his figure, there was no getting away from this now. And so, he admitted meekly that he wanted a kiss, and who were you to deny him? With a playful grin, you placed a kiss to his lips, reveling in the way he pushed against you like he was desperate (he had been waiting for this for so long). Pulling away, you teased that he only needed to ask if he wanted another kiss.

“I-I…d-damn, fine…do ya think we could do that again?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Silver Vanrouge

A warm breeze tousled Silver’s white locks, his steel grey eyes hidden behind his shut eyelids. His head rested in your lap, face pressed into your thighs. Squirrels and song birds fluttered around you, a small chickadee nestled on the top of your head. It was peaceful, a nice change of pace from your usual chaotic days. As beautiful as the scenery was around you, with green grass fluttering in the wind and colorful flowers swaying about, your gaze couldn’t help but fall down to the occupant in your lap. How his lashes kissed his cheeks, how the sun made his hair shine, how soft his skin was under the pads of your fingers. Silver has become the most breathtaking sight in your eyes, and the bird that roosted in your hair seemed to agree as it let out a soft series of cheeps that smoothed into a blissful melody. You couldn’t help but think about how much better your life has become once he entered your life, how sweet and protective he was, how sassy he could be when his father made an offer to cook. You had come to love all his quirks, how he could drift off to sleep in even the loudest environment or how he’d try to stay up just for you. Unable to hold your affections in for much longer, you placed a kiss against his cheek, heart fluttering when Silver’s lips tugged into a smile. So what else would you do besides lavish his face in sweet kisses? His eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help the huge grin that fell on your lips as he looked up at you affectionately. You greeted him with a kiss to the corner of his lips, a cheesy good morning following. The way he stared at you made your heart flutter and stomach tie in knots, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sleepily, Silver followed your lips without a second thought connecting them in a warm kiss before pulling away sharply, eyes wide as he apologized for not asking for consent, only to be shut up by your lips meeting once more.

“So it's not a dream…thank you.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sebek Zigvolt

You felt your eye twitch, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It felt like one step forward ten steps backwards when it came to Sebek. You thought you’d finally got to him in some way, only for him to be shouting at you once more for the same thing the next day. Which was happening right now, with him yelling at you about being some lowly human. Just the other day you had a one on one about how those comments hurt you, and he seemed to genuinely understand, so why the hell was he shouting at you again. You had tried throwing insults back, you had tried communicating like a mature person, you had even slapped him once and stormed away in tears! What the hell did you need to do to get through to this hard headed crocodile? Your glare turned sharp as Sebek continued, rambling on about one thing or another. Your exasperation taking over, you grabbed his tie, pulling his face close to yours as you sneered. You were so upset, you didn’t even notice how your noses were touching, instead tearing into Sebek instead. You also didn’t realize how Sebek turned silent, golden green eyes locked onto your figure, cheeks slowly but surely turning bright red. You let out a huff as your rant ended, raising an eyebrow at the half fae’s current state, then suddenly it clicked and an evil grin upturned your lips. Curling your fingers around his tie, you inched your face even closer (somehow), lips hovering over the other. You debated if you should do the evil thing, pull away and leave him hanging, but you also had the urge to kiss him stupid…letting your own desires win, you pushed your lips together in a heated kiss. Sebek was stiff as a board, but slowly melted into the kiss, only for you to pull away, biting his lip in the process.

“Wh-where are you going, human! You cannot k-kiss a knight and walk away without an explanation! H-hey! W-wait up-”

[vibelladonna]

𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. 

I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!).  Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you. 

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.  

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew. 

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe. 

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down. 

— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics. 

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve. 

Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe. 

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now? 

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer. 

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe. 

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.” 

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.  

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”  

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”  

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”  

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.” 

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”  

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.  

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”  

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.  

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.  

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.  

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.  

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”  

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”  

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”  

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”  

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.  

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?  

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.  

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”  

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.  

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...  

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.  

But then there was Crowe.  

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.  

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.  

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.  

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up. 

Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?  

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.  

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.  

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.  

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.  

If you picked Crowe!

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.  

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.  

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.  

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.  

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:  

— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?  

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.  

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:  

— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!  

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.  

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.  

Sol.  

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.  

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”  

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”  

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”  

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.  

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”  

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”  

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”  

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”  

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.  

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.  

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.  

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.  

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.  

“Sorry, I was—”  

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”  

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.  

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.  

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”  

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.  

“Hey, you made it.”  

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.  

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.  

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”  

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.  

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.  

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”  

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.  

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”  

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”  

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”  

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”  

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”  

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.  

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.  

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.  

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”  

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”  

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.  

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.  

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”  

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”  

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.  

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.  

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”  

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.  

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.  

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”  

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”  

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”  

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”  

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.  

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.  

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.  

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.  

“Hey.”  

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.  

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.  

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”  

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.  

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.  

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.  

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.  

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.  

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”  

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.  

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.  

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.  

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.  

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”  

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”  

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”  

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”  

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.  

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”  

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.  

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.  

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”  

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.  

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”  

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”  

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a belief, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish. Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

If you picked Sol!

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.  

— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?  

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.  

— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!  

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.  

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.  

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.  

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”  

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”  

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.  

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”  

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.  

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”  

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”  

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.  

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.  

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.  

A few steps away stood Sol.  

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.  

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.  

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”  

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.  

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”  

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”  

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.  

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”  

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.  

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”  

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.  

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.  

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.  

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”  

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.  

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”  

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”  

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.  

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”  

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.  

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”  

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”  

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.  

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.  

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”  

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”  

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.  

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.  

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.  

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”  

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”  

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”  

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.  

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.  

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”  

“Open it,” you said with a grin.  

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.  

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.  

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”  

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”  

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.  

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.  

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.  

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”  

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.  

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”  

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.  

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.  

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”  

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”  

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.  

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”  

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.  

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.  

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.  

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air. 

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence. 

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood. 

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent. 

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you. 

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough. 

"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[thetadispatcher]

Peter returned the nod, it was the best thing he could think of to do to show non-verbally that he acknowledged the acceptance of his apology.

He shifted his attention back to Rook and BeeBee, feeling he should better explain the URS12's existence as it was different from other android animals. "Actually no, she was meant for a zoo. Some android animals are made to replace the need for the real thing in zoos, that way the real animal can stay in the wild where it belongs and the android one can be used to teach children about them, without the need for training and the risk they still might harm someone. They even make androids of extinct animals, just so people can see what one would've looked like well alive instead of just some taxidermy." He felt it was a good enough explanation of what BeeBee's true purpose had been, she had been made as a learning tool for a zoo that Zlatko had somehow managed to get his hands on.

BeeBee was the only android that was unable to tell him how she came into Zlatko's possession, so he was left to come up with theories of how the man had managed to get something that was never meant to be owned by the general public.

BeeBee pressed her nose into Rook's hand, chuffing at her before flopping onto the floor to make herself easier to pet.

Peter moved back into Daniel as the floor cracked, the android reacted by quickly wrapping his arm around the young human's chest to catch him. An apologetic look flashed across his face as his LED turned red for a moment as the rough contact had caused Peter to flinch in pain, but he let Daniel hold him as he knew the android didn't hurt him on purpose.

His hand shot up in surprise to grip the one Daniel had splayed on his chest, though he calmed quickly upon seeing what had shot from the void was just a lemon. He felt the PL600 shift behind him, but he didn't react as he knew Daniel was likely scanning him to make sure he was okay. Dan did it to him frequently enough that he could recognize the action without looking, and unlike other humans it didn't bug him, since he knew it was just a way for an android to confirm to themselves a human was in good health.

Peter let go of Daniel's hand after a moment, signaling to the android it was safe to let him go so he could help unpack the new computers. Daniel easily recognized them as to be similar to the ones at the police station, but it was clear they were designed to handle the tasks Brent and Peter would be using them for. Zlatko's laptops had done the job the best they could, but they weren't made with the intention of fixing and printing parts for androids, it took a lot more power to repair an android then it did to mutilate it.

Daniel watched Peter, glancing at Sixty as the RK800 entered the room. He knew the android was curious about all the traffic in and out of the basement as usually it was never this busy in the house, so naturally Sixty had to find out what all the excitement was about. He turned his attention to the human as Sixty crowded Peter to get a look at what was in the crate.

Daniel nodded as he watched the two, knowing it was better to keep a close eye on Sixty and Peter as the two had a tendency to get each other riled up which lead to one of them doing something stupid most of the time. "Most androids I've met deviated due to being mistreated by their owners, which usually resulted in the human winding up dead. Dan and Vincent are the rare ones where mistreatment had nothing to do with them deviating. One was worried about the human he had a deep bond with, and the other because he'd never been left alone before." Vincent deviating seemed simple on the surface, but it was just as impactful as Dan's had been on his personality.

"His behavior is a very exciting learning experience for me, I'm still surprised by how he can work himself up over something like chess." Daniel laughed a bit, he'd never seen a human loose their mind over something like chess, and Peter did it in a way that was amusing instead of annoying.

"Everyone has something they need to work on." He turned his head as Dan rejoined them with Vincent in tow. He was surprised to find the AP700 messing with his damaged ear as it was one of his self soothing habits to trace the blue cracks, mapping out every imperfection with his finger tips seemed to distract him just enough to stay put instead of running away from whatever was upsetting him.

Strasky wasn't far behind, he was giving Vincent a worried look as he tried his best to figure out what had caused the android to be so anxious.

Vincent was quickly tucking himself under the desk and into a corner, his red LED lighting up the darkened space as he busied himself with the plush toy he was stitching together.

"I thought he could benefit from being around strangers for a bit, help him get used to it." Dan explained, even if the AP700 was hiding he felt it was still progress as the skittish android hadn't tried to get away and flee instantly.

The two PL600s turned to look at Peter and Sixty as the two accidentally butted heads as they'd reached for the same thing in the crate. The RK800 twitched slightly as the damaged part of his forehead was jostled before he grabbed out something else, so he wouldn't knock skulls with the human again.

Dan watched as Sixty and Peter did their best to not trip over each other as they started setting up one of the new computers. "Sometimes I wonder were the rest of the RK800s went. Connor is 51, and Sixty is well 60, so that leaves a good number unaccounted for." He felt Cyberlife likely destroyed them after the revolution, and somehow Sixty was sent to the junkyard with the only RK900 instead of going straight to the crusher.

Dan shook his head then looked at Daniel, who returned the eye contact. "I don't know who's eyes are freakier. Yours or Nines." Daniel chuckled as Dan gave him an unamused look. "There is such a thing as too blue, Dan."

The android nodded, accepting the apology. It was easy to forget he used to be one of the many who had to endure Zlatko's experiments, before he was able to escape. That wretched human was the only responsible for the irreversible damage to his memory.

He had vowed to never return, but he had to rethink that decision when it turned out someone else was living on the property and they were working with androids.

"Oh, so somebody wanted a really fancy plushie." Still, Rook was delighted to have a chance to pet a polar bear. She approached the way she approached dragons, with one hand stretched out in front of her, fingers loosely curled. "Are there android kids too?"

Her focus remained on that, even as a crack began forming on the floor, before it split open to make way to a pool of inky blackness.

"Do not panic. I asked for express delivery." Willow said as various crates emerged in pristine condition.

Bishop got closer to examine the anomaly, only for the void to shoot something at him. The projectile was swiftly caught before it could hit him in the face and he looked down to stare at a lemon. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by this.

"Your order has arrived." the agent said dryly. He started ripping the crates open with his bare hands. Having heard these new computers would sensibly speed up the process, he figured they should set them up right away.

And while at it, he would gladly have a look at what passed for commercial use machines around here. If asked he'd point out they should check whether Willow had ordered the right items to be stolen.

"Makes sense. At least you got a funnier guy to watch now and I think his brother needs to talk to somebody. If deviating makes androids want to hurt themselves and he had to be in the middle of the revolution, Dan probably has some feelings to address."

[dark-fics-4-you]

Blue Christmas

dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), p in v sex, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, abusive behavior

A/N: this fic is directly inspired by the movie P2 (2007) but I changed a couple plot things to make it fit for Rafe. Hope you enjoy!

The click of your heels echoed throughout the large, empty parking garage. You let out a frigid puff of breath as you shivered, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders as you looked for your car.

After the holiday party had died down, you had volunteered to stay late to finish up a report so you could have Christmas day off with your family. And now, a full hour and a half after everyone else left, you were finally about to be on your way home.

You reached into your purse to fish your keys out, clicking the unlock button to help you find your car.

Chirp chirp!

The sound came from the level above you and you let out a small groan as you began the walk up to the next level.

After spotting your car, you let yourself in, sliding into the seat and closing the door behind you.

You slid the key into the ignition and turned it, but instead of coming to life, your engine stuttered, refusing to start.

“Shit!” You cursed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Fucking seriously?!”

All you wanted right now was to get home to see your family, but now it appeared your car might not even be leaving the garage.

You reached into your purse to pull your phone out, dialing your mom, but when no sound came over the speaker, you pulled the phone away from your ear to realize that you didn’t have any signal.

Realizing that your only options were to find the parking security guard or walking out into the cold air to get better signal, you decided that you needed to find the parking office.

However, before you could even open your door, you saw the lights on the opposite side of the garage begin to turn off, one by one, growing closer until you were swallowed by the darkness of the garage.

“I’m still in here!” You shouted, feeling freaked out by the dark.

But the sudden sharp knock against your window nearly stopped your heart.

A bright flashlight flicked on, pointed at your face like the person was trying to get a look at you.

He must have seen the fear in your eyes because the light lowered to the ground, revealing the parking security guard, and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.

“Thank god it’s just you,” you joked nervously as you opened your car door to step out.

You looked up at the tall, blond man, remembering the many times he had let you in the parking garage or waved goodbye as you drove out. He was a shy and somewhat awkward guy, but he had been nice in all of your previous interactions.

Underneath the nerdy looking glasses, you might have even considered him handsome.

“I’m glad you’re still here so late, or I’d be in a lot of trouble,” you groaned, gesturing to your car. “It won’t start and I don’t have any signal in the garage.”

“Ah that h-happens here more than you’d think, I can help you out,” he grinned, taking a cursory glance at your car. “You could um- make a call from the office, if you wanted.”

“Oh that would be perfect! Thanks um… Ray?”

“Rafe,” he corrected you with a lopsided smile.

“Oh. Rafe, sorry,” you repeated. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know.”

“You do?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked up at him.

“You hand me your parking pass every day, remember? Everyone who works in the office does,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah, true,” you let out a small laugh.

“Did you enjoy th-the party?”

You blushed, smiling to yourself as you remembered your coworker, Jack, pulling you into one of the empty offices for a quick make out session. This was the first time the two of you had ever done something so risky at the office before, and it had been pretty thrilling.

“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready to get home to my family though, they’re all waiting on me.”

“Then we better call you a taxi, huh?”

“Guess so.”

You followed him as he lead you to the parking office, and your eyes widened as you took in the sparkling Christmas lights that were wrapped around the small space.

“Did you do all of this decoration yourself, Rafe?”

“Uh yeah,” his lips curled into a shy smile and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it just brightens the place up. Makes the job less depressing.”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” You sat down at the chair opposite from his desk, mindlessly glancing over at the monitor that was showing multiple grainy camera angles throughout the garage, cycling through all the cameras throughout the building.

You looked over at the corner of the office to see a large black dog curled up on a bed.

“So, here’s the office phone,” he passed the landline to you. “I’m gonna step out for a quick smoke, you can uh, call your family or a cab, or um whatever you need to do. I’ll be b-back in a couple minutes.”

“Okay! Thank you so much for your help!” You smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door of the office.

You dialed your mom’s number, holding the phone to your ear as you waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” You could barely hear your mother’s voice over the sounds of children playing.

“Mom? It’s Y/N.”

“Where are you?? We’ve been waiting for an hour at this point sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, I had a little extra work to do tonight so I could spend all of tomorrow with you. And you’ll never guess what happened when I left the office.”

“What?”

“My car wouldn’t start! So I’m waiting in the security office and I’m going to call a cab,” your mother started to interject, but you cut her off, “don’t wait up on me. I’ll get there soon hopefully, but with this weather it might take a bit for the cab to get here.”

Your mom was saying something about sending your aunt to pick you up, and you waved her off, but when your gaze landed on the monitor’s camera feed, your blood went cold and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing anything.

Your eyes widened as you watched Jack open the office door building on the camera feed, pulling you inside, leaving only a moment before his lips were on your neck, and his hands were trailing down your body.

Your stomach lurched when you heard yourself softly moan his name before his lips covered yours.

This video was from earlier tonight.

“Y/N?” Your mom asked and you realized you had gone silent.

“I-” your mouth felt dry, your mind was racing, but you knew you needed to call the cab as soon as possible. “I’m calling the cab now.”

You hung up quickly, looking behind you and around the now cramped feeling office for the security guard.

Would it be safe to leave the office? How would you find your way out quickly with the lights off?

He was nowhere in sight, so you dialed the number of the cab company, hand shaking as you held the phone to your ear and cursing when it kept ringing with no answer.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, someone picked up.

“Hello? Please, I need a cab at 9876 Main Street.”

“How many passengers?”

“Just one, please hurry,”

“We’ll be there in under 5 minutes.”

You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going home.

However, you were shocked back into reality when a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, pressing a damp rag over your nose and mouth.

You let out a muffled yelp, struggling against them, but the strong arm that wrapped around your chest held you firmly in place.

You had only taken three gasping breaths before the world around you grew fuzzy, and then your vision went black.

Your eyes cracked open slowly and you lifted your aching head to find yourself still inside the security guard’s office, laid out on the couch. A chill ran up your spine and your noticed your coat was missing.

Rafe was sitting at his desk with his back turned to you, watching the video of you and Jack on a loop.

You let out a soft whimper of fear, shifting to stand up and try to run out of the room, but you quickly realized your right wrist was handcuffed to the sofa when it dug into the skin of your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch.

The clinking of the metal alerted Rafe to the fact that you were awake and he turned around, a sick grin spreading across his face.

“You’re up! Sorry about all that with the rag and stuff,” he chuckled, acting as if it was some run of the mill accident.

His casual ease as he looked over you sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t miss the fact that his large dog was awake now, sitting beside him and staring you down imposingly.

“Also, I um- I cancelled your cab,” he told you and your heart skipped a beat.

“W-why?”

“Well… I thought maybe you’d want to spend your Christmas Eve with me,” Rafe nervously offered.

You blinked at him in shock, at a complete loss for words.

“W-we could get to know each other, and finally have our first date.” Rafe stood up from the chair and approached you, and you shrank away from him.

“Listen, Rafe..” you swallowed dryly, heart hammering against your chest as you carefully chose your words, “I- I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m already seeing somebody.”

There was a deadly silence at your words and Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in a way that made you nervous.

His dog noticed the subtle change in his attitude, a low growl building at the back of its throat and he slowly started to walk towards you.

“Easy Max,” Rafe warned, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t wanna scare poor Y/N too much.”

The dog backed off at that, laying down in his bed, but still eyeing you suspiciously.

Rafe sat beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist and you shuddered at the physical contact.

“Listen, Y/N, just give me a chance okay? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“I-” you stuttered nervously, your mind too blank with fear to know what to say. “I have t-two siblings.”

You tripped over your words, face warming up when you felt his hand slowly begin to trace up your back.

“Keep going,” he ordered with a whisper, his hand rising to the rest at the back of your neck. Your pulse was racing and your breath was beginning to grow uneven with tension.

“I’m f-from a town 40 minutes from here. I’ve never ah-” you winced when his fingers flexed slightly, putting you even more on edge. “I’ve never lived outside of the state.”

“Really? That’s incredible. Me personally, I’m from North Carolina, but I’ve traveled all over the world.”

His eyes flicked from your face to your chest, eyeing the way your breath was coming quickly. He grinned wickedly, drawing so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

“Am I making you nervous, Y/N?”

He adjusted his hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the back of your neck while his other fingers splayed down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Would you feel more at ease if I was Jack?” Rafe spat his name out like it was poison in his mouth and you winced.

“N-no. I- I don’t- no,” you whimpered, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

This night had taken a turn that you never expected and your head was still spinning as you tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Rafe let out an annoyed huff, a scowl blooming across his face as he stared at you.

“Do you want to see him again tonight?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to see him again tonight?”

“I-” you stuttered, but you trailed off, not knowing what he meant or how to answer.

Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly growing irritated by your indecisiveness. He turned to find something on his desk before returning to you with a key in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the knife, your breathing picking up as you looked to him in fear.

“What-?”

“I’m going to unlock you and we’re going to take a short drive, but I can’t have you getting any smart ideas, sweetheart.” Rafe grabbed your cuffed wrist, jamming the key into the lock on the cuff that was attached to the sofa.

He grabbed your wrist tightly with one hand, pulling you off the couch and turning you away from him before reaching over your shoulder and bringing the knife to your throat.

He leaned forward, letting his lips come to your ear and you held back a shudder as he spoke, “if you so much as think about trying to get away from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you, do you understand?”

You nodded, choking down your tears as he pushed you forward to signal you to walk out of the office.

Rafe led you to a car, opened the door, and shoved you inside, giving you a warning glare to not run before walking around to the driver’s side.

“W-where are we going?” You asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

“You’ll see, sweetheart.”

He turned towards the exit of the garage, and for a moment you could feel your escape within your grasp, but he steered away, instead steering towards the ramp that led to the lower levels of the garage.

“W-we’re not leaving?” You could feel your heartbeat pick up again in your confusion. Where the fuck was he taking you?

“We’re almost there, Y/N, calm down.”

Your eyes scanned the dark garage, but they widened when he turned the corner, his headlights revealing Jack duck taped to one of the office chairs.

“Oh my god,” you whispered in shock, taking in the blood that was already dripping from his forehead. Jack shifted in the chair, his eyes squinting as he tried to look through the windshield.

“What’s going on Rafe?? Why are you doing this?” You hissed through tears, frantically looking back and forth between Rafe and Jack.

He chuckled, but it lacked humor and you felt nauseous at the sound.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N?” His hand came to your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you so much, and he’s what’s keeping us apart.”

Now you were almost certain you were going to be sick and you let out a sob as his thumb lightly traced your face.

“I- I don’t even know you, Rafe! I barely knew your name before tonight,” you cried hysterically, begging him to find reason. “Please, whatever you’re planning, just stop!”

You couldn’t stop the burning tears from falling now, anxiety making your heart beat so fast you felt dizzy.

“Shh Y/N, calm down.” He wiped away some of your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes watched you with concern, but there was a coldness underneath the surface that frightened you.

“I’m gonna take care of it, okay? And he’s never going to come between us again.”

Before you could question him, he closed the gap between you, holding you in place as his lips covered yours.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, stomach turning in disgust as you squirmed against him, and you whimpered when he forced his tongue into your mouth. His lips felt hot against yours and the kiss lasted too long, as Rafe held you down against the chair by your throat until you were gasping for breath.

He pulled away with a dreamy look in his eyes as he scanned your distressed expression.

“Do not try to run. Got it?”

You stared at him blankly, taking a beat too long to respond and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Got it?” He repeated with a sickening edge to his voice.

“Mm, mm hm,” you nodded, mouth too dry to make any noises other than humming yes.

“Good girl,” he purred, leaning forward to press one last kiss to your trembling cheek before reaching over to open his door and climb out.

You were glued to your seat, too scared to attempt running with him still so close. You could barely watch as he approached Jack with the knife brandished in his hand.

“Please- stop it! Don’t get any closer!” Jack cried out and your heart skipped a beat, more tears sliding down your face was you watched with horror.

“You were never good enough for Y/N, you know that?” You could hear the rage in Rafe’s voice simmering beneath the surface, ready to be released.

“Always taking her for granted and treating her like she’s some everyday slut.” He spat, pulling his arm back before punching James hard across the jaw.

You stifled your cry by biting your lip, trying to ignore Jack’s groans of pain when Rafe punched him again.

“Rafe, stop it!” You cried from inside the car and he turned around to look at you before punching him in the stomach with a grin.

“She may not understand what kinds of tricks you’re pulling, but I do.” He slammed his fist into James’ gut again. “I know guys like you, who get off on playing nice girls like Y/N and treating them like shit.”

“No- I’m not-” Jack grunted, blood trickling past his lips as he struggled to breathe. He strained against the layers of duck tape wrapped around his chest and the back of the chair to no avail.

“And I’m sure you look down on the guys like me. You think you’re so much better because you went to college and got a comfy, corporate job, and assholes like you always get the girl in the end,” Rafe’s voice was downright venomous at this point, and you could tell that he was working himself up to a boiling point.

“Not this time,” he chuckled darkly, bringing the knife to Jack’s throat threateningly.

“Rafe please!” You screamed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you watched the scene before you unfold, feeling utterly powerless.

In one smooth motion, Rafe brought the knife across Jack’s throat and a river of crimson sprayed from his neck, splattering across Rafe’s face and clothes.

You sobbed as Jack slumped against the chair, his head leaning back to reveal the large cut splayed across his throat, and you knew in your heart that he was dead.

Before you could think twice, your hand was wrapped around the door handle, and you pushed yourself out of the car.

The garage was almost pitch black, save for Rafe’s headlights and you didn’t notice the cement wedge in front of you.

“Shit-!” You cursed as you hit the ground, adrenaline too high to register any pain from the fall.

You turned your head as you scrambled to your feet to find Rafe’s angry gaze fixed in your direction. Heart pounding, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you remembered him turning from the ramp to the upper levels, the sounds of your heels echoing off the walls of the parking garage.

“Fuck!” You heard Rafe roar from behind you followed by the sound of him hitting something hard in frustration, likely his car, before you heard his heavy footsteps chasing after you.

“Y/N!!” He yelled, his voice reverberating and repeating as he cursed.

Knowing that this was likely your only chance to escape, you frantically looked around for an exit once you got onto the ground floor, only to find that it was gated off, and there was no way for you to leave.

When you passed a second exit that was gated off, you realized Rafe must have closed them all down to keep you inside and your heart fell.

“Where are you hiding?” Rafe’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he was getting closer.

If you were going to escape, you weren’t going to be able to do it alone.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer behind you in the dark, and you tried to quiet your shaky breath as you ran to the brightly lit office, hiding behind the support pillars along the way.

Even if he caught you in the office, if you could just make a call to the police, hopefully that would be enough to save you.

You finally reached the front, pushing the door open slowly and quietly before crouching and entering.

Unfortunately, in your panic to get away, you had forgotten all about Rafe’s large dog, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he ran up to you, barking and lunging, only to be yanked back by his chain at the last moment before reaching you.

Your heart rate spiked as the dog growled loudly in between sharp ruffs, barring his teeth and trying to nip at you.

“Shhh!” You whispered. “Good doggie, please be quiet!”

You eased past the dog and towards the landline, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking in your knees as Max continued to bark.

Images of Jack’s throat being slit flashed through your mind and you choked back a sob as you reached for the phone.

Your sweaty fingers slid over the numbers and you held the phone up to your ear waiting for the ring.

But it never came.

You pulled the phone away from your ear in confusion, and looked down at the handset, following the wire connected to the phone to where it should have been plugged into the wall.

Instead, you stared at the severed wire in terror, realizing that Rafe must have cut it while you were knocked out earlier.

“Why are you trying to ruin our first date?”

Rafe’s voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you slowly turned around to find him standing in the doorway of the office.

He was an imposing figure, made all the more terrifying due to the flecks of blood painted across his face and shirt. His glasses were gone now, and you realized just how much they had been hiding the threatening glint in his eyes.

Rafe no longer seemed like the shy, nerdy guy you had taken him for before tonight, but instead a dangerous predator who had finally cornered his prey.

“Rafe,” your voice was so faint you weren’t sure if you were even speaking. “Please, I’m scared.”

Your throat felt tight, tears filling your eyes when you noticed the blood on his hands.

“Scared?” He asked incredulously. “You should be thanking me for getting that loser out of our way.”

A sob clawed its way out of your throat, and you took a step back, only to jump forward again when the dog’s low growl came from behind you.

“Now it’s time to stop running,” Rafe taunted.

You felt dizzy with fear as you watched him step closer, towering above you, the outline of his muscular form barely hidden by his leather jacket.

Heart beating loudly against your chest and blood rushing in your ears, you didn’t have any time to think your decision through before acting.

You rushed forward, trying to push past him to get to the front door, but you were a moment too slow.

Rafe’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, easily picking you up and spinning you away from the door.

You cried out as he carried you forward, pushing you against the table in the middle of the room and bending you over it.

“Stop it-!” You screamed as you struggled against him, but he easily pinned you against the hard wood, letting out a wicked snicker as he roughly pushed the skirt of your dress up.

“Don’t you want someone to take of you, baby?” The blond groaned desperately, fingers grasping at your tights before ripping them open.

“I just wanted to treat you nice, Y/N.” He growled, anger radiating off his tongue. “Like the good girl I thought you were.”

You wretched your arm free before bending your elbow and thrusting it into Rafe’s stomach.

He cursed loudly, his grip on you loosening for just a moment before his hand clamped down around your wrist, painfully twisting it behind your back and harshly forcing you against the table. When you heard his belt jingling behind you, your heart skipped a beat.

“Looks like I was wrong.” Rafe spat, and you whimpered in fear as he pulled your panties to the side. “Maybe you are a fucking slut.”

“Rafe please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this, Rafe,” you were quaking beneath him, crying harder as your pleas fell on deaf ears.

You froze however, voice dying in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock run along your folds.

“Oh god,” he strained, and you squirmed beneath him, cringing when his lips came to your ear.

“You’re so wet you’re dripping down your fucking thighs, sweetheart,” he taunted, barely shifting his hips forward and spreading your lips with his dick.

You sucked in a shaky breath, legs growing weak underneath you. You fisted the hand pinned against your back until your knuckles grew pale. His fingertips brushed your clit as he languidly dragged his tip along your pussy, up near your ass, then down to your clit. Up, down, languid strokes as he hissed through his teeth.

"Bet Jack wouldn't ever get you this wet, huh?"

Jack’s lifeless body flashed before your closed eyelids again, quickly replaced by the sharp sting of Rafe's fingers clamping your clit, rolling his slick-covered digits over your nerves. An instinctual whine left your lips, and Rafe sneered down at you as he dragged his dick back up to your hole, circling the head around your entrance as you protested.

"Rafe, please, please," you cried into the table, clenching your knees together and tilting your hips from him, anything to get him to pull away.

“Fucking stay still!” He hissed, wrapping his thick bicep around your throat in frustration. You let out a choked whine, tears coming to your eyes when his muscles flexed, cutting off your breathing, and Rafe ignored you as you helplessly scratched at his arm.

He groaned as he pushed into your cunt, his tip nearly sliding all the way inside of you, met with resistance that only fueled him further. Your pleas were lost to the heat that blushed Rafe's face.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you been holding this back from me?" He dragged himself out of you, watching as you clenched and quivered from the sudden withdrawl. Again, he pushed his flushed head into your warmth, and then out, in slow teasing strokes that made your head spin.

Against every survival instinct that was screaming at you, you stopped fighting. Each sting of his dick breaching you, each wet squelch of his fat tip inside you left you feeling dizzy with want.

However, when you felt his cock inch deeper inside, you whined in protest and squirmed in his arms, but one flex of the bicep at your throat quelled your resistance quickly.

“You’re so pretty, you know that, Y/N?”

You shuddered as Rafe groaned against your ear, his arm locked around your neck and preventing you from turning away. Your knees shook beneath you as he slowly forced himself deeper, and you felt betrayed by your body when you felt yourself growing slicker around him.

“Too pretty to be trapped in this shitty office job, wasting your hours at work, if you ask me,” he purred.

His fingers found your clit again, thumb rolling over your sensitive bud, and you bit back a moan as your back arched instinctively, allowing Rafe to dip deeper inside.

He was much bigger than you expected, stretching you out with each thrust, and pushing himself deeper and deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

The blond wasn’t holding back anymore, reveling in every mewl and whimper he could draw out of you; and the way your snug walls clenched around his length had his hips snapping against your ass as he chased his release.

“Don’t you want a family to care for, baby?” He groaned, fingers swirling over your clit and you whined, trying to squeeze your legs shut in a desperate attempt to stop him.

His words echoed in your head, the sick irony completely lost on him.

You already had a family and he was holding you hostage to keep you away from them.

“We could start our own, together,” he whispered, and a muffled sob escaped your lips. When you squirmed beneath him, he easily held you in place, punishing you with quick, painful thrusts.

“You’ll never have to worry about working again,” he groaned when your tight walls squeezed around him. “Just- fuck- stay at home ‘n be my pretty, little housewife.”

Disgust and terror bloomed in your gut as you realized with a shock just how twisted his fantasies were. You felt sick thinking about how long his obsession had been festering beneath the surface and you had been too blind to see.

Rafe pinched your clit between two fingers and you whined, tears running down your cheeks as he forced your legs open again. You tensed around him, letting out a choked moan when he rolled his thumb over your tender clit.

You hated him, but even worse, you hated how much control he had over your body, and how painfully delicious each stroke of his cock felt.

“Please-” you whimpered, not entirely sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going, twisted desire clouding your head as he plunged into you again and again, the sticky sounds of your slick cunt filling the cramped room.

Rafe groaned, easing his hold on your neck to lean forward and trail messy kisses from your cheek to the side of your throat that was exposed, never slowing his pace or the steady circles around your clit. Nausea churned in your gut at the overly intimate gesture; and when the scent of copper reached you, you realized he had smeared some of Jack’s blood onto your cheek.

You gasped loudly when his lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Rafe’s low grunts vibrated against your throat when you squeezed down around him.

Your body rocked with every thrust of his hips, your knees quaking beneath you as his thumb circled around your clit faster now.

“Rafe-” your breath hitched and you shamefully realized that your undoing was hurdling towards you.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his bicep flexing around your throat as he lost himself in his pace, plunging into you again and again.

You let out a choked whine when his thumb pressed harder against your tender bud, and you were finally pushed over the edge.

Your body tensed, legs shaking as your slick walls spasmed around him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, whimpering pathetically as Rafe pushed his cock into you again and again.

He snickered as you cried beneath him, reveling in the way you helplessly scratched at his arms, tearfully begging him to stop.

The blond slammed into you harder, each slap of his balls against your sensitive clit made your head spin and it wasn’t long before you were coming around him again.

You trembled beneath him, so dazed that you could only whimper mindless pleas.

“Fuck-” Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as you squeezed around him, his pace stuttered, and the arm at your throat tightened as he grew closer.

You could barely breathe now, and you struggled against him as he choked you, panic overtaking you when your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

Rafe groaned loudly when he came, forcing his cock deep inside you and painting your walls with his hot, sticky seed.

You shuddered when he nudged himself deeper and you felt his thick cum overflowing past your sensitive, puffy lips. Out of instinct, you tensed beneath him, and he moaned against your ear when you tightened around his softening cock.

After what felt like forever, he finally pulled out, loosening his hold on you, although you couldn’t have fought back now even if you tried.

You heard him pulling his pants up behind you, and you flinched when his hands came to your back to pull your skirt down to cover you.

“C’mere honey,” he cooed, carefully lifting you off the table and guiding you to the couch. You obeyed him, much too out of it to put up any more resistance.

You cringed in pain as you sat down, but tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

Rafe’s hand was on your back, lightly drawing small circles on your exposed skin, and you found it nauseating that he could be so gentle after treating you so savagely.

He was staring at you, studying your nervous face for a few moments before reaching out to cup your cheek.

You flinched, turning away slightly as he drew closer, but his grip was firm, and he held you in place as he leaned in and draped his lips over yours.

Your stomach turned as his lips slid over yours possessively, and you let out a squeak of surprise when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he staked his claim on you.

When he finally pulled away, your head was swimming, and the dazed look in your eye made Rafe smirk.

“Aw look at you, never seen you so cock drunk before,” he chuckled, before leaning in to give you another quick peck on the lips.

“You gave me the best Christmas gift I could ask for.” He grabbed one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

You stared at him blankly, a tear rolling down your cheek that Rafe chose to ignore as he looked deep into your eyes.

“I love you, and I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.”

[thedensworld]

Kiss a Friend | K. Mg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Summary: Mingyu was obsessed with his ex fiancee who had left him on the altar. To get her back, he paid all your debt to help him.

It started with a kiss.

Mingyu had warned you to arrive at 7, sharp. Punctuality, he said, was non-negotiable. He despised people who couldn’t respect time. But tonight, you wanted him to hate you, to see the look of irritation flash across his usually composed face. So, you walked in at 7:50, deliberately late, wearing the plainest dress you could find in your closet. It was all part of your plan to embarrass Kim Mingyu, a small act of rebellion against the man who now held a claim over your life for the next three months.

You sighed, an inexplicable tightness in your chest. Mingyu was more than just the imposing businessman he had become; he was your childhood nemesis. To be fair, your parents had been friends long before you were born, so you and Mingyu were forced into each other’s lives. You spent your childhood squabbling over the smallest things—who was faster on their bikes or who could get highest score in Math. It was always a competition, and Mingyu always found a way to win, leaving you rolling your eyes and muttering curses under your breath. Then, he left for the States to study business and fulfill his destiny of taking over the family empire. The distance was a relief, a clean break from the constant rivalry.

Meanwhile, you had chosen a different path. You found joy in acting, even if it meant playing minor roles or being in small films. You cherished the freedom it gave you, the knowledge that you weren’t bound by family legacies or the weight of expectations. Your life was yours, simple and light—or at least it was until last month.

Mingyu returned from the States a changed man, celebrated and respected in the business world. He no longer resembled the carefree boy from the neighborhood, and communication between you dwindled to polite nods and rare encounters. Then, the invitation came: a wedding announcement for him and his fiancée of two years. You’d laughed to yourself, amused by the thought that Mingyu, the annoying kid who used to trip you on purpose, had grown up enough to commit to someone. The thought of him managing to woo a woman seemed almost comical.

But everything shattered on the day he was left standing at the altar.

The chaos that followed was unforgettable. You ran to his parents, finding his father pale and clutching his chest, too stunned to speak. The paramedics arrived moments later, rushing him to the hospital. You stayed behind, holding his mother’s trembling hand and feeling the weight of Mingyu’s world as it crumbled around him. Hyorin—his fiancée, now ex-fiancée, ex-bride; you struggled to decide what to call her—left only a short letter behind. In it, she confessed that she’d run away with another man, admitting she’d been unfaithful and choosing to leave Mingyu for good.

Days later, Mingyu appeared at your door. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his usual confident posture was nowhere to be seen.

“Help me,” he said, voice low and raw.

You blinked, unable to piece together what he meant. “Help you with what?”

“Help me get Hyorin back,” he clarified, leaning against the doorframe as if the effort of standing was too much. “I need you to be my girlfriend—just for three months.”

Your mouth dropped open. The idea was absurd. “Are you serious?”

“Hyorin is possessive. She won’t be able to stand seeing someone else with me. I know her. If she thinks I’ve moved on, she’ll come back,” he explained, desperation creeping into his tone. His eyes held yours, unyielding. “And besides, she hates you. That’ll add fuel to the fire.”

He sat comfortably on your couch, surveying your small apartment with an expression that was almost amused. It was a stark contrast to the sleek penthouse or sprawling home he had planned to share with Hyorin. You sat on the floor across from him, disbelief clouding your expression as you struggled to take his proposal seriously. Date Mingyu? It was laughable. He was too entangled in your childhood memories to ever be considered a romantic prospect, even if he had changed into a confident, sought-after businessman. Every time you looked at him, you couldn’t help but picture the mischievous boy with a grin that spelled trouble.

Yet, Mingyu was relentless. The proposal kept coming, woven into daily conversations and backed by small gestures. He pampered you in ways you didn't expect, bringing you coffee, making sure you were eating, all because he couldn’t find anyone better for this crazy plan of his.

“And besides, you’re a great actress,” he said one evening, leaning back into the cushions with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes, recognizing the manipulative edge in his tone. “I know,” you muttered, barely containing your frustration.

Before the conversation could spiral further, the sharp ring of your doorbell echoed through the apartment, followed by a series of frantic knocks. Alarm bells went off in your mind. No. Not now.

“Hide,” you whispered urgently, pulling Mingyu up by the arm and shoving him into your room before he could protest. If the person at the door saw Mingyu, it would be a disaster you weren’t prepared to deal with.

“Open up, Y/N! I know you’re there!” a familiar voice shouted from the other side, slurring slightly. Your heart sank as you recognized it. The door barely clicked open before it was pushed with force, slamming you back a step as Boemjae stumbled into the room. The stale scent of alcohol and cigarettes clung to him, making you wrinkle your nose.

“Not today, Boemjae,” you said firmly, hoping to sound braver than you felt.

He laughed, a low, menacing sound as he stepped closer and pressed you against the wall. “Who are you to tell me what to do, bitch?” His voice was a venomous whisper, and the sharp pain of your back hitting the wall made you wince. He swaggered toward the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle, taking a swig as if he owned the place.

“Leave,” you tried again, your voice strained but steady.

Boemjae’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No. I need my money now,” he snarled, his tone shifting from casual menace to a sharp demand.

“I don’t have it now, but I’ll send it later,” you promised, your voice barely above a whisper. Before you could brace yourself, Boemjae shoved you with enough force that you stumbled and crashed into the coffee table, pain searing through your side.

“I need it now,” he repeated, bending down to yank you up by the collar as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll. His laugh was harsh and mocking. “How are you even planning to pay me back, huh? Sleeping with random men? You can’t even land a decent acting role!”

Before you could respond, Mingyu’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “Let her go.”

The room fell into a tense silence as Boemjae turned, surprise flickering in his bloodshot eyes before he barked out a laugh. “So, this is the man you’re sleeping with? How much is he giving you? You’d better hand it over right now,” he sneered before shoving you roughly to Mingyu’s side. Relief washed over you as Mingyu caught you, holding you steady with a firm arm around your waist. The old Mingyu would have never stepped in, but this Mingyu—this confident, determined man—was different.

Mingyu’s expression hardened as he stepped forward, towering over Boemjae, his height and presence imposing. “I’m her boyfriend,” he said, voice cold and commanding. “And I want you out of this house. Now.”

Boemjae’s laugh faltered, turning uneasy as he took in Mingyu’s stance. “Boyfriend? Don’t kid yourself. I know her, and she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I’m her important person,” he said with a sneer.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you were truly important, you’d know who I am,” he said, taking another step closer until Boemjae flinched. “Leave now, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Boemjae swallowed, the drunken bravado evaporating under Mingyu’s glare. He backed away, muttering curses under his breath before stumbling out the door.

The silence that followed was thick, your shallow breaths the only sound in the room. Mingyu’s eyes bore into you, sharp and intense, the anger still radiating off him in waves.

“Who was that? Why do you even know someone like him? Is he your boyfriend?” he fired off questions, his voice clipped and filled with barely contained rage.

“It’s none of your business,” you mumbled, wincing as you gripped your arm where it throbbed with pain.

Mingyu’s brows knitted together in a fierce scowl. “It is my business if you’re going to be my new girlfriend,” he declared, the conviction in his voice making your head spin. When had you ever agreed to this? Why was he speaking like you’d already signed some invisible contract?

“I never said yes,” you muttered, exhaling shakily as the adrenaline in your system began to ebb.

Mingyu’s eyes softened just a fraction, but his determination remained. “Who is he? Why does he come here?”

“I owe him money,” you admitted, your voice a strained whisper. “He shows up whenever he needs cash.”

A tense silence followed as Mingyu processed your words. “How much?” he asked, his tone commanding.

You bit your lip, irritation bubbling up at his demanding attitude. “It’s none of your business!”

“How much?” he pressed, leaning in, eyes searching yours for an answer.

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thirty-five billion,” you finally said, the weight of the number hanging heavily in the air.

Mingyu’s expression flickered with surprise before settling into one of resolute determination. The silence stretched between you, almost suffocating, before he spoke again, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll pay it,” he said, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument. “But only if you agree to be my contract girlfriend for three months. That’s all the time I need to get Hyorin back.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the enormity of his proposal pressing down on you. This was more than just a game to him; it was a desperate gamble. And now, it was your move.

*

The last day of owning your own life felt strange, surreal even.

You sat uncomfortably in Mingyu’s office, surrounded by the scent of polished wood and subtle cologne, a stark contrast to the chaotic familiarity of your world. The sterile office setting, with its pristine glass walls and neat rows of desks, was foreign to you. You were never an office girl. You were the adventurous one, the free spirit. So when Mingyu called you in to meet his lawyer and sign the contract, you weren’t prepared. Not mentally and definitely not in the way you were dressed—in just a plain shirt and worn blue jeans. If you had known the gravity of this moment, maybe you would have chosen something more formal, something that wouldn’t make you look so out of place among the sleek suits and pencil skirts.

Mingyu, now a commanding presence as the director of his father’s company, sat across the long mahogany table. He was the picture of cool composure, suited up impeccably, his gaze sharp but carrying an odd familiarity. The lawyer spoke up, cutting through the hum of your racing thoughts.

“As you can see, Mr. Kim will give you the agreed-upon sum tomorrow, and the contract will last for three months. If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask,” the lawyer said, his voice professional but devoid of emotion.

You glanced down at the document in front of you, your fingers brushing the paper lightly as you read. Years in the entertainment industry had taught you the importance of dissecting every line in a contract, ensuring that nothing would come back to bite you.

Halfway down, your eyes widened at a clause. “I have to move in with you?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, disbelief clear in your voice.

Mingyu cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, his expression stoic. “Yes. It’ll create the right image. The media will go wild if they find out a woman moved in with me just a month after being left at the altar. Hyorin will hear about it. She’ll be furious, maybe even desperate enough to come back.”

You frowned, your thoughts racing. “And if I don’t want to?”

A chuckle escaped Mingyu, a sound that brought a flicker of childhood memories—those endless debates, the playful bickering that now seemed like a different lifetime. “Then we’ll negotiate. But I can promise that all your needs will be met. Besides,” he paused, his eyes narrowing just a touch, “Beomjae wouldn’t be able to harass you at my place.”

The mention of Beomjae sent a chill down your spine, your discomfort deepening. You didn’t like how easily Mingyu had brought up that night in front of his lawyer. It was a memory you’d hoped to lock away and never revisit. Still, the thought of escaping Beomjae’s shadow was tempting, more than tempting.

“And just so we’re clear,” Mingyu continued, his voice dropping to a serious note, “you’re not sleeping in my bed. The house has more than enough rooms.” He said it matter-of-factly, but the unexpected implication made your cheeks burn. You felt a wave of embarrassment rush through you as if the contract itself was some guilty secret.

The lawyer pointed to another clause. Intercourse was strictly prohibited; anything more intimate than staged public displays of affection would void the agreement and terminate the contract immediately. You breathed out slowly, relief mixing with an odd nervousness. The contract laid out your new reality in stark, unyielding terms, yet there was no malice hidden in its words. Mingyu might have been many things, but he wasn’t deceitful. He wouldn’t trap you with fine print. And the money? The staggering sum of thirty-five billion won seemed almost absurd, a price you weren’t sure you deserved for playing pretend for three months.

Mingyu’s gaze softened as he spoke, almost as if he could read your mind. “This role is harder than you think, Y/N. It won’t be easy.”

You glanced up at him, a blend of challenge and resignation in your eyes, before signing your name. The final stroke of the pen echoed in your ears like a tolling bell. Tomorrow, everything would change. You weren’t just Mingyu’s childhood friend anymore.

You were now his girlfriend. His thirty-five-billion-won girlfriend.

*

As you stepped into the birthday party hosted by Mingyu’s uncle, Kim Jaejoong, a wave of self-consciousness swept over you. The dazzling lights reflected off shimmering gowns and sharp suits, making you feel more out of place than ever. You were dressed simply, far too simply for such an event, and each glance cast your way seemed to gnaw at your self-esteem. You gave your name at the entrance, "Kim Mingyu's plus one," and the attendant nodded, letting you through with barely a glance.

The room was filled with South Korea’s most influential figures, a crowd where power was worn as naturally as their tailored suits. You scanned the room, trying to find Mingyu's familiar silhouette among a sea of business elites. But everyone here looked alike in their uniform of suit and tie, making it more challenging than you'd expected.

Then you spotted her. Wi Hyorin.

Hyorin, the heiress of Wi Finance, one of South Korea's most prestigious financial empires. The very woman who had left Mingyu standing alone at the altar, igniting a wildfire of gossip across the business world. The alliance that their marriage would have cemented had turned into a scandal overnight, the fallout reverberating through boardrooms and society pages. But why was she here, now, at Jaejoong's event? Was she trying to rekindle something? Your chest tightened as you watched her glide gracefully across the room.

Your eyes found Mingyu. He stood tall, commanding attention in a circle of businessmen, his smile practiced and confident. But as Hyorin moved toward him, you noticed a shift in his demeanor—a flicker of recognition and tension. The past month of living with Mingyu as his so-called “gold digger” girlfriend had been surreal. Tabloid stories had painted you as an unknown actress who somehow caught the eye of the jilted billionaire. Kim Mingyu’s New Flame: The Mysterious Actress After the Altar Scandal. The stories practically wrote themselves, and you, once a spectator to such dramas, were now the unwitting star.

You took a deep breath, a rush of impulse taking hold. If Mingyu’s plan was to make Hyorin jealous to win her back, then a bold move was justified, right? No harm done if it served the goal.

You walked steadily toward him, the room seeming to shrink as your heartbeat drummed in your ears. Mingyu noticed you, his eyes lighting up with a practiced warmth as he lifted a hand to wave, playing the devoted boyfriend role perfectly.

“Meet my girlfriend, Ji Y/N. She’s an actress—”

Before he could finish, you acted. Your hand reached up, pulling him toward you as your lips met his in a sudden, daring kiss. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the clink of champagne glasses pausing midair. You felt Mingyu’s initial shock; his body stiffened, and he pulled back, eyes wide with surprise.

The room was a frozen tableau for a heartbeat, but it was Hyorin’s voice that shattered the silence. “So, you’re dating your childhood friend now, Mingyu?” Her tone was soft, almost melodious, but it carried an edge that cut through you like a blade. The implication in her words stung more than you expected. How dare she, after abandoning him?

But before you could react, Mingyu stepped away from you, turning to Hyorin with an almost desperate urgency. His hand reached for hers, a gesture that made your stomach drop. “I didn’t kiss her back, Hyorin,” he said, his voice clear enough for anyone nearby to hear.

The world seemed to tilt, his words echoing in your mind. Your heart plummeted as the realization settled in: Kim Mingyu, the man you once called your friend—no, the man you were now pretending to be in love with—was still devoted to the woman who had humiliated him in front of the entire country. And he had just proven it, publicly.

The plan was to make Hyorin jealous enough to return to him. It was working. You’d done what you set out to do, so why did your chest ache like this? You told yourself it didn’t matter. You had no right to feel this way. This was a job, a role to play, nothing more.

You stepped back, your face a mask of practiced calm as you retreated to the quieter corner of the venue. The din of conversation swallowed the silence you left behind. You reached for a glass of wine, the cool liquid promising a momentary reprieve from the chaos in your mind.

“So, you’re Ji Y/N, the one everyone’s been talking about?” A voice interrupted the solitude you had wrapped yourself in. You turned to see an unfamiliar face—a man you had never met before. He was striking, with sharp features and an air of effortless confidence. He introduced himself as Yoon Jeonghan, a college friend of Mingyu’s. The name registered immediately; he was the CEO of Yoonique, a luxury fashion brand that had been making waves locally and internationally.

“If you’re his girlfriend, I should’ve met you by now, especially with all the news swirling around. But here we are, meeting for the first time,” Jeonghan said, his tone light but with an undercurrent that suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You felt your heart tighten. This conversation was more layered than you were prepared for, and the probing curiosity in his eyes made you reach for your wine again. “I’m not in a position to answer that,” you muttered, the rim of the glass brushing your lips.

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that somehow put you at ease and on edge at the same time. He leaned against the railing beside you, his eyes shifting to the city lights that stretched beyond the venue’s grand windows. “Mingyu’s a fool sometimes. I can see that now more than ever. I’m sorry you got caught up in this mess,” he said, his voice softening, making you turn to look at him.

“He told me about his plan—to win Hyorin back. I never thought it was a good idea, but I see now that you’re his partner in this... charade?” He paused, waiting for a response that you didn’t have. Your silence was answer enough.

You sighed, the weight of the night pressing down on you. “I’ve known him since we were kids. This is the least I can do, especially for his parents. They’ve been under so much pressure since the wedding incident,” you whispered, careful not to let anyone overhear your conversation.

Jeonghan’s expression shifted, a blend of understanding and something else you couldn’t quite read. He nodded slowly, acknowledging the burden you both seemed to carry. The quiet between you was a welcome reprieve from the noise inside, where murmurs and sidelong glances threatened to pull you apart.

You sipped your wine again, eyes drifting over the dark, sprawling skyline. Out here, you didn’t have to hear the whispered gossip or feel the eyes boring into your back.

“Mingyu ditched his girlfriend for his ex-fiancée?”

The thought sent a shiver down your spine, not because it wasn’t true, but because you knew people were cruel enough to say it aloud. Even if you were okay with being in this position, it was still humiliating to be part of such a spectacle.

Jeonghan’s voice brought you back. “Are you free tomorrow? Would you be willing to meet me at my office?” He asked, his eyes catching yours in the window’s reflection, the city lights dancing in them like embers.

You turned to face him, a flicker of curiosity sparking in your chest. What could he possibly want from you? Whatever it was, the idea of visiting Yoonique’s CEO office sounded intriguing, an unexpected twist in an already complicated story.

“Sure,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. You weren’t sure where this was heading, but for the first time that night, you felt a sliver of excitement cut through the haze of doubt.

*

"You ran away," Mingyu said as he stepped into your room, his voice low and sharp. The door clicked shut behind him, and you glanced up to see him in a half-dressed state—his suit discarded, an expensive dress shirt clinging to his broad frame, and a loosened blue tie draped around his neck. The sight was disheveled, raw, and too close for comfort.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the script for your newest and most promising role—a second lead that could finally catapult your acting career—resting in your hands. Your eyes met his, refusing to show the tumult of emotions twisting in your chest.

“You didn’t knock,” you said, trying to maintain an even tone. It was a feeble attempt to set a boundary, one you knew he would ignore.

Mingyu’s eyes darkened as he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming the room. “As far as I remember, this is my house. And this room is technically mine.”

A retort sat on the tip of your tongue, bastard, but you swallowed it down. The weight of the day hung over you like a shroud, and rest was all you craved. You placed the script on the nightstand and sat up straighter, facing him.

“Yeah, I know. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m living in your place. So, technically, this is still your room. Want to sleep here tonight?” You threw out the jest, trying to shift the tension, but it landed wrong.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, and he took another step forward, eyes blazing. “You kissed me and now you’re asking if I want to sleep with you? Is that how cheap you are, Y/N?” His voice was harsh, each word slicing through the space between you.

The accusation stung. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. “You think I kissed you for that?” Your tone cracked, disbelief laced with hurt.

“You kissed me in front of everyone and caused a scandal! You really thought that would help my plan?” His voice rose, frustration spilling over like an overflowing dam.

You met his glare, eyes narrowed. “The plan was to make Hyorin jealous, to make her want you back. Didn’t it work?” Your voice was low, trembling with controlled rage.

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, exasperation etched across his face. “Making her jealous and actually getting her back are two different things, Y/N! Your impulsive stunt just pushed her further away. It showed her that I’m willing to move on. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Your chest ached as you watched him unravel. “And whose fault is that?” you shot back. “You practically shouted to the world that you didn’t kiss me back. Right in front of her, in front of everyone. That’s how stupid you are, Kim Mingyu!”

For a moment, silence fell, crackling with unresolved tension. Mingyu’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he hadn’t expected you to fight back. His anger morphed into something deeper, something unreadable.

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet so swiftly that the room spun. You gasped as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“So I’m stupid because I didn’t kiss you back?” he whispered, the proximity making your pulse race. Before you could respond, his fingers found the nape of your neck, and he closed the distance between you. His lips crashed into yours with an urgency that stunned you.

Your mind screamed at you to resist, but the battle was fleeting. He was too strong, or maybe, you were too willing. Maybe it was because deep down, this was what you had wished for when you kissed him earlier—this reckless, unrestrained moment. Your hands found their way to his chest, and you felt yourself giving in, kissing him back with the same intensity.

The kiss became a desperate clash, more a battle than an embrace. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist with an intensity that left you breathless, fingers digging into your skin as if trying to mark you, claim you. You gasped when he pulled back, his eyes dark with something raw and unapologetic, searching your face for any hesitation.

The only answer you gave was a tug at his shirt, buttons flying in reckless abandon as you exposed the heat of his chest. He smirked, a hint of danger playing at the corner of his lips, before he pushed you back onto the mattress, following you down with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. His body pressed into yours, all hard planes and coiled tension, a silent reminder of the power he wielded.

“Mingyu,” you breathed, the sound half plea, half challenge. He caught the way your voice faltered, and his smirk widened, leaning down to brush his mouth just below your jaw, trailing fire wherever he touched. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, the sound vibrating against your skin and igniting a reckless thrill.

He hovered over you, his eyes boring into yours, the heat between you searing. “Tell me to stop.” he rasped, a taunt that made your pulse quicken. Before you could answer, his lips claimed yours again, hard and consuming, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Clothes slipped away in a flurry of heated motions, the cool air biting at your exposed skin for only a moment before he was there, pressing into you, suffocating and electrifying all at once. The room was filled with sharp breaths and quiet gasps as he explored, each touch setting off a chain reaction you couldn’t control.

Every move was a silent challenge, a push and pull of dominance and surrender. His teeth grazed your collarbone, earning a shiver that he answered with a dark chuckle, fingers tracing paths that left you arching into him. Your nails raked down his back, pulling a hiss from him that made something dark and thrilling coil in your chest.

The space between you became suffocating, bodies moving together in a rhythm that left no room for tenderness, only hunger. Every gasp, every whispered name, was laced with defiance and something deeper, something both of you refused to name.

"The contract..." you muttered, the reality of the situation cutting through the haze that still clung to your mind. The gravity of what just happened settled between you like an uninvited guest.

Mingyu's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He scoffed, the sound low and bitter. "Fuck, my lawyer doesn’t need to know about this," he said, half to himself and half to you, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

*

"So, did you sleep together?"

Jeonghan’s sharp question made you choke on the sip of tea his secretary had brought in moments earlier. You managed not to spill any as you placed the delicate cup back on the table, eyes locking with Jeonghan's. He was grinning, eyes sharp and teasing as they assessed your reaction.

"No..." he continued before you could answer, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I mean, I heard you moved in." He restated, though the pointed look in his eyes suggested he already suspected the truth.

"It was a business contract, Jeonghan," you responded evenly, though the words felt flimsy in the air. Jeonghan, who insisted you call him by his first name as though he wanted no reminder of his father’s legacy, hummed, tilting his head as if inviting you to elaborate.

"A three-month contract to get Hyorin back," you said, your voice steadying. "You probably already know this, but he wanted me to play the role of his fake girlfriend." At the end of your words, Jeonghan let out a dry chuckle, the sound mirthless.

"I can't believe he's that childish," he muttered. His gaze shifted, scrutinizing your face as if trying to read between the lines. "And what did you get out of this little arrangement?" he pressed.

You hesitated before muttering, "He paid my debt... 35 billion won."

Jeonghan’s eyes widened briefly before he masked his surprise. "That's a lot of money for three months," he said, watching you nod in agreement. "That’s life-changing."

"I plan to give it back when the contract ends," you admitted, almost shyly.

Jeonghan's brow lifted in disbelief, as though you’d just declared you were planning to burn the money. "Don't give it back. Keep it," he said, leaning forward with sudden intensity. "At least take that much from him after everything."

You let out a small, hollow laugh. "I helped him because he's my friend," you said, your voice tinged with a bitter edge. "And, as I told you yesterday... for his parents. I’ll work hard and pay my own debts."

Jeonghan went quiet, his eyes narrowed in contemplation, taking in every word as if filing them away.

"May I know what kind of situation landed you with that much debt?" he finally asked.

You bit your lip, the weight of the past pressing down like a heavy cloak. It was complicated, a story rooted in tragedy. "It wasn’t originally my debt; it was my father’s," you began, your voice tight. "He owned a production house and partnered with a young director, Lee Beomjae. The project was ambitious, with a promise of 100 billion won. Beomjae even invested his own money, but then... everything collapsed. The company went bankrupt when my father died in a car accident, and my mother... she couldn’t bear it and took her own life. The business fell apart, and no one wanted to pick up the pieces. That left me with 35 billion won I couldn't escape."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. You took another sip of tea, anything to break the tension that stretched between you and Jeonghan.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes studying you with newfound understanding. "Here’s what I think, Y/n," he said, voice soft but unwavering. "Mingyu wanted you to be his contract girlfriend, paid you a fortune, and you signed up for it. Yet, you didn’t take the money. I don’t know any friend who’d go to those lengths for someone."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as a knowing smirk spread across his lips.

"Unless..."

"You have feelings for him."

*

You were certain you didn't have any feelings for Mingyu. That much you knew. But whatever had happened between you and Jeonghan earlier in the office was beyond your control. The way his presence felt so imposing, so suffocating—it was like being caught in a storm you never saw coming. Jeonghan was a menace. You could tell just from the way his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, always reveling in the discomfort or pain of others. And that included his friend, Mingyu.

"Okay, let's say you don’t have feelings for him." Jeonghan's voice cut through the tension, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as if he'd already dismissed your objections.

Without warning, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. His thumb slid across the screen, and it lit up with a name that made your stomach drop—Mingyu.

What on earth was Jeonghan up to? Why was he calling Mingyu? Your heart began to pound in your chest as the phone rang, the sound impossibly loud in the stillness of the room.

The line clicked, and Mingyu's familiar voice came through, bright and casual. "Jeonghan... What’s up?"

The friendly tone was jarring to your senses. This was the voice of someone you'd never heard since you threw yourself into this mess with Mingyu. Certainly not the same voice from last night, the one that had been cold and cutting. The same man who, earlier that morning, had made his feelings crystal clear.

“I would never kiss you like I like you, Y/N. You’re a cheap woman. And even if you were the only woman in this world, I still wouldn’t kiss you like I liked you. You understand?”

The words echoed in your mind as if they were still fresh, still raw. The anger, the frustration—it didn’t hurt as much anymore. It was just a painful truth you had come to terms with: he had turned into a bastard. And that realization, as much as you tried to deny it, was freeing.

Jeonghan, however, seemed to savor every moment. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes dancing with mischief as he spoke into the phone.

“I’m with your girlfriend now,” he chirped, his voice dripping with amusement. He glanced over at you, his gaze mischievous. "I invited her over, and she came. She’s a beautiful woman."

There was a long, tense pause on the other side. No immediate reaction. You weren’t expecting one. There was no way Mingyu would get upset that you were here with Jeonghan. He had no reason to. His obsession with his ex, Hyorin, was enough to blind him to everything else.

Jeonghan’s eyes met yours again, but now there was something almost predatory in them as he leaned in closer. “I feel like I don’t deserve his money…” you had told him earlier, confessing a doubt you had never voiced before. And Jeonghan, with his wicked grin, had been quick to respond.

“I’ll help you feel like you deserve it, Y/N,” he’d promised, the words laced with an implication you were too afraid to fully understand.

The phone call continued, Jeonghan now speaking directly to you. “What do you think of my office, darling?” His voice was low, too casual. "How about that... table? Do you like my table?"

You were growing more confused by the second. What the hell was he trying to imply with these questions? Was it a game to him? Did it even matter?

But it was the next question that threw everything into chaos, sending a rush of heat to your face and tightening your chest.

“What do you think about Mingyu?” Jeonghan’s voice was calm but probing. "Do you like being his girlfriend?"

The silence from Mingyu on the other end only made everything worse. You could feel him listening, silently absorbing everything Jeonghan was about to say. The pressure was unbearable, and you found yourself biting down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the tension building inside you. You didn’t want to answer, didn’t know how to.

But you saw the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes. It was playful—too playful—and you knew that once that look took hold, there was no turning back.

“And how about being mine?” Jeonghan’s voice was a low, smooth whisper, the words hanging in the air like a threat, a challenge.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Mingyu still hadn’t said anything. The silence between the three of you was suffocating, thick with unspoken implications. You could almost hear Jeonghan’s smirk widening, could almost feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, daring you to react.

*

Mingyu pounded into you with an urgency that felt primal, as if his very existence depended on it. Just an hour earlier, he had stormed into the house, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name—desperation, jealousy, rage. You'd barely finished toweling off from your shower when he burst through the door, demanding to know why you had been with Jeonghan.

“I was with Hyorin when you called,” you said, the confusion in your voice palpable.

His jaw clenched at the mention of Hyorin. So it wasn’t just Jeonghan's presence that set him off, but the fact that he was with Hyorin?

The realization simmered between you like a storm on the verge of breaking. But then, without another word, Mingyu had closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that silenced your questions and pulled your body flush against his. It was as if Hyorin had never stood between you, as if she didn’t matter at all. The intensity in his eyes told you everything: he was lost, consumed, and somewhere beneath that, afraid.

Why, then, did he hold you as if the world might end in two months?

Was Hyorin really the cause of this frantic need?

Or was there more that he hadn’t told you?

Mingyu gripped your waist and lifted you onto the dining table, the hard edge pressing into your thighs. The table Jeonghan had mentioned in passing just today, in a tone laced with mischief.

Was this what Mingyu had been stewing over? The idea of Jeonghan touching you in his office?

“You’re mine the moment you signed that contract,” he growled, the heat of his breath grazing your ear as he buried himself inside you with an urgent, unrelenting rhythm.

His hands moved up to cup your breasts, fingers curling possessively around them as his voice dropped, husky and rough. “Gotta make my 35 billion worth it, right?"

*

The next morning, you woke up in Mingyu's arms, the remnants of the night clinging to your skin like a whispered secret. The blaring sound of your alarm shattered the silence, signaling the beginning of a day that promised exhaustion and long hours on set in another city. You shifted slightly, feeling the ache from the bruises on your body.

“Did I do that?” Mingyu’s voice, unexpectedly soft, cut through the tension hanging in the room. His eyes were wide with concern as they traced the discolored marks along your skin.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, surprised to see him fully awake, studying you with an expression you hadn’t seen in a while. He was too caught up in his own world to notice these things — too focused on himself last night. You almost wanted to tell him that they weren’t his doing, that it was Beomjae’s cruelty imprinted on you, but you knew better. Mingyu wouldn’t care. Or would he?

“No, it’s not you,” you whispered, the lie slipping out as easily as breathing.

Mingyu sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, and reached out to touch the edge of a bruise that crept up your shoulder. “Who did this to you?” His voice was strained, eyes darkening. “Isn’t it painful? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You looked at him for a long moment, searching for a hint of sincerity behind his sudden worry. He looked almost unrecognizable, stripped of his usual indifference, as though the man you once knew was peeking through. A weary sigh left your lips as you pushed yourself up and wrapped a robe around your sore body.

“It’s none of your business, Mingyu,” you said with a practiced coldness, shielding yourself from whatever softness he was trying to show.

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend,” he protested, his tone almost petulant, as if he truly believed his own words.

A bitter chuckle escaped you. “Are you even listening to yourself, Kim Mingyu?” The disbelief in your voice echoed through the room as you moved to the vanity, tying your hair with mechanical precision. In the mirror, you caught a glimpse of his confusion, brows furrowed and eyes clouded with something unreadable.

“Just stick to being yourself,” you added, the edge in your tone slicing through any pretense of warmth. Before he could respond, you turned away and began preparing for the long day ahead, leaving whatever half-formed thoughts he had unspoken.

You arrived at the shooting location on time, weaving through bustling crew members as they prepped for the day. Greeting everyone with polite nods and smiles, you slid seamlessly into your work. Without the support of a label or company, there was no manager trailing behind you. Every break was spent alone, sitting in your old, worn-out car, waiting for the next call.

“Everyone knows they cast her just because she’s Kim Mingyu’s girlfriend.” The whispers were never far, a constant background noise you had learned to ignore.

You pushed through the two or three scenes you had, monitoring them closely on playback to ensure your performance held up. It was in places like this where you soaked up everything you could, learning and growing, despite the limitations of playing minor roles. The space for growth was narrow, but you squeezed through whatever cracks you found.

“Hey, I’m Boo Seungkwan.” The voice was friendly, and when you looked up, the assistant director stood before you with an open, sincere expression.

You stood and bowed politely. “I’m Ji Y/N. Please take care of me.”,

Boo Seungkwan was a familiar presence on set, a talented and respected assistant director who had built a strong reputation despite his young age. You knew he wouldn’t approach you without reason, which made your heart race with a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Are you the daughter of Ji Jinkyung?” The question hit you like a cold wave.

Your breath caught for a moment. How did he know? You had spent years avoiding this truth, never mentioning your father’s name to anyone. The rise and fall of Ji Jinkyung had been a scandal splashed across headlines when JiPH declared bankruptcy, a tragedy soon followed by your mother’s death. You weren’t ashamed of your past; you were haunted by the guilt of the lives that crumbled alongside your family’s fall.

Seungkwan’s eyes softened with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. “I remember seeing you on set with him every weekend,” he said, nostalgia lacing his voice. “And I saw ‘Morning Mourn.’ You were incredible in that film.”

The memory stung, but you masked it with a practiced smile. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Driving home, Seungkwan’s words lingered like a dark cloud. If Lee Beomjae was spreading the truth about your identity, the ripple effect could be devastating. If the rumor reached the media, the production team could drop you without hesitation. Seungkwan’s heads-up was a lifeline, a warning to prepare yourself.

You parked outside and dialed Beomjae’s number, the cold metal of your phone pressed against your ear as the night air seeped into your bones. You had to confront him, to make sure he understood that spreading rumors would ruin everything—whatever thin strand of normalcy you were clinging to while trying to repay the impossible debt he held over you. You felt foolish, lost in the labyrinth of his manipulation. Was the debt even real? Or was it just another tool he used to torture you, to remind you of your powerlessness?

The vibration of an incoming message pulled you from your thoughts.

“Come to my parents’ house. There’s something they want to discuss with you.”

Mingyu’s text sat on your screen, an unexpected summons that left you staring, uncertain of what awaited you on the other side.

*

“I don’t remember raising you like this.” Mingyu’s father stormed out of the room, leaving behind an icy silence that wrapped around his wife, their son, and the woman who had walked out on Mingyu at the altar just two months ago. Mingyu released a heavy sigh as he sank deeper into the couch, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on him. Next to him, Hyorin sat with her head bowed, looking as fragile as porcelain, having come to his parents earlier to plead for their acceptance—an act that had summoned Mingyu here in a rush.

“Your father’s right, Mingyu. You’re crossing a line,” his mother said, her voice taut with disappointment. “When we heard you had a girlfriend, we assumed it would be someone we didn’t know. But imagine our shock when we found out it was Y/N. She’s like a daughter to us, Mingyu.”

Hyorin’s confession had unraveled everything. She had exposed Mingyu’s plan to win her back, even spilling the details to his parents. Mingyu had thought he could play for time—hold Hyorin off just long enough to make his next move. He hadn’t expected her to take matters into her own hands and throw everything into chaos.

“She agreed to it, Mother,” Mingyu defended, his voice low and strained. “She needs money—a lot of it. And she’s not the same Y/N you remember. She’s changed.”

His mother scoffed at his justification, a sound filled with disbelief and disdain. “Listen to yourself, Mingyu. Do you even hear how ridiculous you sound?” She stood up abruptly, the soft rustle of her skirt filling the silence as she followed her husband out of the room.

Mingyu’s heart sank deeper into his chest. The finality of his mother’s parting words echoed back at him as she turned at the doorway, her gaze steely and resolute. “This conversation isn’t over. I will speak to Y/N myself.”

Mingyu slumped back against the couch, the tension in his shoulders not easing even a bit. He glanced at his phone. The text he’d sent you over an hour ago remained unanswered, and now your silence gnawed at him with fresh urgency.

“I’m sorry,” Hyorin whispered, her hands trembling as she covered her face. Tears threatened to spill, and she struggled to hold them back. “I didn’t mean for it to get this big. I was desperate.”

Mingyu’s eyes softened, a sigh slipping past his lips. “No need to apologize, Hyorin. It’s done.”

“I promise I’ll do better,” she said, her voice breaking. “But please, stop this, Mingyu. Let’s go back to how things were. Let her go and come back to me.”

Mingyu drove home with a storm of thoughts churning in his mind. Frustration clenched his jaw tight, fueling his anger. You hadn't shown up when he needed you, and the disappointment gnawed at him. His parents refused to have a conversation without you; they cherished you, even after all these years apart. And Mingyu despised you for that. You were always the one they looked at with warmth, while he stood in the shadow of their expectations.

As he pushed open the door to the apartment, prepared to unleash another round of arguments with you, a familiar ritual that often ended with the two of you waking up next to each other in uneasy silence the next morning, he froze. His anger drained as he took in the sight before him. You were lying on the couch, eyes closed, face bruised and lips swollen.

“Who did this to you?” Mingyu’s voice cracked with urgency, his earlier frustration transforming into a different kind of rage. He crossed the room in three quick strides and cupped your face, startling you awake with his touch. The worry in his eyes felt foreign, almost out of place, but it was there, unmistakable.

You blinked at him, dazed and confused, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch. But Mingyu wasn’t listening. His eyes traced the darkening bruise on your cheekbone and the split in your lip, and an irrational fury bubbled up inside him. The idea that someone had hurt you like this made his blood run hot.

“Tell me who did this to you,” he pressed, his tone leaving no room for evasion. His fingers gripped your jaw just tight enough to draw your gaze, his own eyes blazing. He didn’t know what he would do once he had a name, but he was too far gone in his anger to care.

“I fell during shooting and hurt myself,” you whispered, eyes darting away from his.

Mingyu’s shoulders slumped slightly as he exhaled, the tension simmering down just enough for him to think. Without a word, he stood and retrieved the first aid kit and a bowl of ice cubes, kneeling beside you and insisting on tending to your injuries.

“How was the meeting?” you asked, breaking the heavy silence as he dabbed an antiseptic on your lip with more gentleness than you expected.

“Is that really important right now?” he scoffed, pressing the cloth to your bruised cheek. “We need to go to the hospital.”

You shook your head, a stubborn glint in your eyes. “It’ll heal.”

Mingyu’s movements faltered when you added, “I heard Hyorin was there. Did you get back together?”

He stiffened, setting the ice aside as his eyes met yours. “How do you know?” His tone was sharp, a thread of suspicion woven through it. “Were you there?”

You nodded, wincing as the motion pulled at your sore skin. “I came by for a bit. The maid mentioned Hyorin was inside, so I stayed back. I waited for over an hour, but I realized it would take longer, so I left.”

Mingyu’s frustration returned, tinged with a different emotion this time. “With your face looking like this? Are you always this stupid, Y/N?” His voice cracked, half-worried, half-angry.

You flinched but kept your gaze steady. “So, did you take her back?”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, the action filled with exasperation. “Is that what matters right now? You’re hurt, Y/N. I didn’t even know until I walked in the door.”

A confused look crossed your face as you whispered, “But that’s why we’re doing all of this, Mingyu. We need Hyorin back, for your sake.”

Mingyu stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in and tying knots in his chest. Your face was a mess of bruises, but there you sat, so focused on his plan, on helping him, as if your own pain didn't matter at all. The guilt gnawed at him, tearing apart the flimsy walls he’d built around himself.

Maybe what Mingyu feel about you lately is just a guilt. He just... pity you, that's it.

*

One month left before you’d be officially disboyfriended Mingyu. The term you coined mocked you with its bitter humor as you called Jeonghan, settling into the driver’s seat of your car. The air around you was heavy after your meeting with Hyorin. She had been surprisingly composed, delivering her message with a practiced smile: Mingyu and she were getting back together. Mingyu had even promised to escort her to the Jeon annual event this weekend, a public confirmation of their rekindled relationship.

You gritted your teeth, the irony not lost on you—did Hyorin know that for the past month, Mingyu had been tangled up with you, both in mind and body? The betrayal tasted metallic on your tongue.

Jeonghan picked up on the third ring. “So, what’s up?” His casual tone brought a semblance of calm to your frayed nerves.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you were about to commit to. “I’m in,” you said, voice low but firm.

There was a pause before Jeonghan chuckled, the sound both amused and intrigued. “What are you implying?” His voice took on a more serious edge, probing for clarity.

“I’ll take your offer,” you clarified, the weight of the words sinking in. “The offer to make me feel like I deserve his money.”

Jeonghan’s laughter came through, rich and approving. “That’s my girl,” he said with a hint of pride. “Alright, listen. Here’s the plan: meet me at my store in Gangnam after lunch.”

A few hours later, you stood under the warm glow of boutique lights as Jeonghan’s keen eyes assessed you. The racks around you were adorned with high-end pieces—silk, satin, tailored elegance. He moved from one option to another, fingers sliding over fabrics, before selecting a few and holding them up against your frame.

“Change into this,” he said, gesturing to a piece that was an explosion of jewel-toned fabric. You nodded and disappeared behind the velvet curtain of the fitting room. The process repeated: outfits changed, critiques delivered. A disapproving headshake here, a muttered comment there—“Not good enough,” he’d say, or a more frustrated, “We need an emergency meeting with the designers. Yoonique has to fit everyone.”

Then, you stepped out in the last dress. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up, and he gasped, genuinely taken aback. The black satin dress hugged your body like a secret, long-sleeved and sleek, with an open back that hinted at danger and a neckline that dipped tastefully. A slit ran high on your thigh, exposing just enough skin to catch anyone’s attention. It was bold yet elegant—perfect.

“That’s it,” he said, satisfaction curling his lips into a smirk. “It’s yours.” He stood and circled you slowly, eyeing the bruises that marred the expanse of your back. His smirk faded, replaced by a frown. “We’ll need to cover these. Is this from Beomjae?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

You nodded, catching the muttered “that bastard” that escaped him. Jeonghan’s eyes met yours, a silent promise lingering there: no more bruises, not after today.

On the day of the Jeon annual event, you arrived with Jeonghan, knowing full well the storm of media attention it would draw. 'Mingyu's girlfriend seen with Jeonghan, while Mingyu arrives with the ex-fiancée who left him at the altar.' The headline alone promised chaos and scandal.

Jeonghan had made you two promises. First, he would help you with Beomjae. His legal team was already working on investigating the debt that bound you to that abusive man, ensuring you wouldn't owe a penny and that Beomjae would face justice for what he had done. Second, he would help you reclaim yourself—to feel whole and worthy, with or without Mingyu in the picture.

“Tell me, since when?” Jeonghan’s question came out of nowhere as the two of you drove back from his store that day. The question made your heart stutter.

“Since when what?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Jeonghan scoffed lightly, his eyes flickering with a knowing glint. “Since when did you start liking Mingyu?”

The silence stretched, and you searched your memory, trying to pinpoint the moment. Since when? Had you even realized you still liked him? Or was it a relic of the childhood crush you’d once harbored? Memories trickled in: Mingyu as the boy who would lose every game with his friends but somehow always win when he played with you—because you let him. That’s what you remembered most clearly. The rest blurred into moments that felt as if they had always existed.

In high school, things shifted. Conversations became sparse, reserved for those rare moments when home felt stifling, and you’d climb into each other’s bedroom windows just to share the silence. Then, without warning, he had to leave. Distance stretched across miles and years, and life pushed you apart. Your father’s passing forced you to sell your phone, cutting off all contact. What once felt close turned distant, and the feelings that remained had never been addressed.

You exhaled shakily, unable to meet Jeonghan’s gaze. “I...I don’t know,” you admitted. Shame colored your voice—shame that after everything, after being discarded and treated like an afterthought, you still cared for him.

Jeonghan’s arm encircled your waist as the two of you stepped into the grand ballroom, the low hum of whispers swelling as eyes followed your entrance. The whispers said everything you were thinking. Why was Mingyu’s girlfriend with Jeonghan when Mingyu had walked in with Hyorin? The question echoed in your mind too.

Jeonghan, ever composed, treated you like royalty throughout the event. His voice dipped to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in. “Just follow my lead,” he instructed. If anyone knew how to navigate this social minefield, it was him.

But when you excused yourself to go to the restroom, a hand shot out from the shadows of the corridor, pulling you into a quiet corner. Your back hit the wall, and you were met with Mingyu’s fierce gaze, a tempest swirling in his eyes.

“Why are you here with Jeonghan? He’s my friend,” Mingyu hissed, voice laced with anger barely contained.

You lifted your chin, meeting his glare head-on. “Am I not allowed to be here? Is it because of my status?” The pointed question carried the sting of Hyorin’s earlier remark: ‘You’re not on Mingyu’s level, Y/N.’

Mingyu’s brows pulled together in frustration. “What? That’s not what I meant! I’m asking why you’re with Jeonghan.” His voice strained as he pressed you lightly against the wall.

You took a steadying breath, finding a surge of confidence within yourself. “Because you didn’t invite me. Jeonghan did."

“Everyone knows you’re my girlfriend!” His voice cracked, the desperation seeping through.

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing. “But you showed up with your ex, so tell me, Mingyu, what’s the difference?”

He faltered, searching for words. “I didn’t come with her. We just met here!”

“Does it even matter?” Your voice dropped, quiet and weary. The fight in you waned as reality set in.

Mingyu’s eyes blazed with anger as your words echoed between you. He took a sharp breath, fists clenching at his sides. “What’s gotten into you? Are you even hearing yourself? We’re still in contract!” he reminded you, his tone harsh and commanding.

“So what? We already broke the contract the moment you put your hands on me, Mingyu,” you shot back, holding your ground. “There’s nothing in the agreement saying other men can’t do the same.”

His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened as he stepped closer, the space between you suffocating. “Did you sleep with Jeonghan?” The question came out as a growl, possessive and edged with jealousy.

You tilted your chin defiantly. “It’s not your business, Mingyu. I can do whatever I want.”

“No,” he said, voice low but brimming with fury. “You’re my girlfriend. I paid you to be my girlfriend, and you should listen to me. We’re going home.”

The statement cut through you, reminding you of the transactional nature of what was supposed to be a façade. It was true, he’d paid you to play this role, but somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. Your heart thudded in your chest as you wondered what awaited you once you returned to his house. The memory of last night lingered—how your bodies had moved in sync, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But tonight, the air was different, thick with tension and unspoken truths. You swallowed hard, worrying if there were still any condoms left in his house, remembering using the last one in a moment of impulsive passion. Your pulse quickened at the thought of what this confrontation could mean, unsure whether it would spiral into a battle or ignite something deeper.

*

Hyorin had asked you that one time, "Are you two sleeping together in our room?" Her question was layered with implications. Was she trying to confirm if you and Mingyu had crossed that line? Or was she mocking you by emphasizing our room, as if to remind you that she once had ownership over that space, even after she left him on the altar? Your mind raced with anger and confusion. The only thing you wanted to do as you sat across from her was to slap that smug smile off her face. How dare she come back after everything she'd done?

“Why?” The word slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Hyorin’s smile widened, cruel and taunting. “Well, he doesn’t like anyone else in his bed, so I was wondering if you sleep there, in our room. I mean, the master bedroom. I’m sorry…” Her tone dripped with insincerity, and you knew she wasn’t sorry at all.

The memory stung as you woke up before dawn. You were back in your own room, while Mingyu lay sleeping beside you. The events of last night still echoed in your mind. After he dragged you out of the event, you had dared to ask him, almost pleading, if the two of you could sleep in his room instead.

“No. I don’t like when someone else enters my room,” he had said, his voice cold and detached.

“But you said I’m your girlfriend,” you had whispered, trying to understand where you truly stood.

Mingyu’s gaze darkened. “You’re just a girlfriend I paid for. Don’t ask for more.”

The words cut through you like a blade. You sighed and gently pulled yourself from his embrace, a hollowness settling deep inside. It was time. You couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

He had Hyorin back. The proof sat on the nightstand—his check for 35 billion won, neatly tucked under his phone. Your job was done. Everything you had endured, every humiliation and compromise, had led to this. And it wasn’t enough to let you into his real space, his heart. You knew then that Jeonghan was right; staying by Mingyu’s side would only continue to break you.

You packed your essentials silently, fighting the lump in your throat, and slipped out of the house before the sun rose. You drove aimlessly, just needing to be far away. Your apartment wasn’t safe with Beomjae still lurking; Jeonghan had warned you that it might take two more months to gather enough evidence to protect you in court. He urged patience, but today you had none left.

All this time, every sacrifice you made for Mingyu, every part of yourself you gave, it was never enough for him to let you into his true sanctuary. It was time to go, time to leave behind the pain and reclaim whatever was left of yourself.

Mingyu woke up to an emptiness that gnawed at him immediately. He reached out instinctively, expecting to feel your warmth beside him, but his hand met only cold sheets. He sat up, confusion creasing his brow as he glanced around the room. The stillness was unsettling, the house too quiet.

“Y/n?” he called out, his voice breaking the silence. He listened, hoping for the sound of your voice or even the light shuffle of your footsteps. Nothing. A wave of irritation surged through him as he threw back the covers and stood up, the cool floor beneath his feet doing nothing to temper his rising anger.

He strode through the house, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the guest room. Empty. The frustration that had simmered inside him since the event now boiled over. Why would you leave without saying anything?

As he stormed back into yout room, something on the nightstand caught his eye. The check he had written for you sat there, staring back at him like an accusation. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. The sight of it made his blood run cold and hot all at once.

It was the final insult. You hadn’t just left—you had left him with the one thing that symbolized the transactional nature of your relationship, the thing that once gave him control but now mocked him with your absence. He clenched his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. The implications of you leaving the check behind sent a spike of panic through him, laced with anger. You were rejecting everything: the arrangement, the money, him.

“Damn it, Y/n!” he roared, sweeping his arm across the nightstand. The check, his phone, and a glass of water crashed to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the room, mirroring the turmoil inside him.

He paced back and forth, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The idea of you walking out without a word gnawed at him. You had always been the one constant in his chaotic life, the one person who, despite everything, was there. Now, the emptiness felt sharper than ever, and he realized too late how deep your absence cut.

Mingyu grabbed his phone from the floor, ignoring the cracked screen as he tried to call you. The call rang once, twice, and then went straight to voicemail. Frustration clawed at him as he dialed again, the unanswered call only fueling his desperation.

“Pick up, damn it,” he muttered under his breath. The third call met the same fate, and it was then that a sinking feeling set in. This wasn’t just you leaving for a break. This was different.

He stared at the check on the floor, now crumpled and stained with water. The reality of your departure settled heavily on his chest. You were gone, and for the first time, he felt the weight of what it meant to be truly alone.

*

Mingyu stormed into Jeonghan's office first thing in the morning, his eyes dark with urgency and frustration. Jeonghan, who had been informed of his sudden arrival, greeted him with a polite smile that quickly faded at the sight of Mingyu’s tense expression.

"Where’s Y/n?" Mingyu demanded, his voice sharp and accusing. Jeonghan’s smile faltered as confusion clouded his features. What did he mean?

"She’s gone, Jeonghan. And you were with her last night," Mingyu continued, his tone carrying a hint of accusation, referencing the moment you arrived at the event on Jeonghan’s arm.

Jeonghan’s brows knitted together, a flash of realization and disbelief crossing his face. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "You were the one who took her home. You dragged her out of the event, remember?"

Mingyu’s expression darkened, and he muttered a curse under his breath. "Shit."

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, studying the man in front of him. "What’s going on, Mingyu?" he pressed, his voice steady but probing. The room felt heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

Mingyu bit his lip, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "It’s... complicated," he finally mumbled, his shoulders tense.

Jeonghan tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. "What could possibly be too complicated for me to understand? The contract? The debt? Spill it."

Mingyu’s eyes widened slightly. He knew? Did you tell Jeonghan everything? After a moment’s hesitation, Mingyu nodded, acknowledging Jeonghan’s knowledge. His mind raced as he tried to piece together what you might have shared.

"I wrote her a check for 35 billion won. She was in debt, so I helped her, and in return, she helped me with... well, everything. But now she’s gone," Mingyu’s voice cracked as he threw his hands up in exasperation, his frustration palpable.

Jeonghan was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a deep sigh, he said, "She didn’t take the money."

Mingyu’s heart skipped a beat, disbelief flickering across his face. Did you tell Jeonghan that as well? The thought of you leaving behind the money he had given you felt like a slap in the face.

"If she’s gone, she’s really gone, Mingyu," Jeonghan said quietly, a hint of empathy coloring his tone. "You have Hyorin back, don’t you?"

Mingyu’s eyes flashed with something close to desperation. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. "This isn’t about Hyorin," he said, almost growling the words.

Jeonghan nodded slowly, a knowing look settling on his face. "I know. You're confused right now, I can tell. But maybe you need to ask yourself why it’s not about Hyorin anymore."

Mingyu paced back and forth in Jeonghan’s office, his mind racing with thoughts that tangled and frayed like a rope under too much pressure. Every moment that passed without you felt like sand slipping through an hourglass, a reminder of how close he was to losing you for good.

“Jeonghan, tell me where she went,” Mingyu’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability shining through his usually composed demeanor. He wasn’t used to feeling so out of control, and it gnawed at him.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, watching him with a look that was part sympathy, part indifference. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” Jeonghan said, his tone as calm as ever. “You need to figure this out for yourself, Mingyu. Chasing her without understanding why she left won’t help either of you.”

Mingyu’s jaw clenched, frustration coursing through him. “I don’t need a lecture, Jeonghan. I need answers,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You said you knew everything, so why won’t you help me?”

Jeonghan sighed and stood up, walking over to the window where sunlight filtered in, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. “Mingyu, you’re looking for her like she’s an answer to a problem. But she’s not an answer—she’s a person who needed more than you were willing to give,” Jeonghan said, turning to face him. “And if you don’t understand that, you won’t find her in any meaningful way.”

Mingyu’s breath quickened as anger and panic warred inside him. He wanted to shout, to lash out, but deep down, he knew Jeonghan was right. You had left, and it wasn’t just because of Hyorin, or the contract, or the money—it was because he hadn’t given you what you truly needed. A place in his life that was more than just obligation or arrangement.

Mingyu paused in the doorway, half-turned back to Jeonghan, who was still watching him with an expression that mingled curiosity and challenge. The silence crackled between them, charged and tense.

“I’m doing this because she’s my friend,” Mingyu finally said, his voice strained as if he was convincing himself as much as Jeonghan. “I love Hyorin. I always have. This isn’t about feelings, it’s about doing the right thing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, a wry smile curving his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the window frame. “Your friend?” he echoed, the words laced with skepticism. “Mingyu, if she was just a friend, you wouldn’t be standing here, desperate and wild-eyed because she left. You wouldn’t have risked everything to keep her by your side.”

“I’m not risking anything!” Mingyu’s voice rose, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m looking for her because she needs help, not because—”

“Not because what?” Jeonghan cut in, raising an eyebrow. “Not because you’re afraid of losing her? Not because seeing her with someone else drove you crazy last night? Tell me, Mingyu, what kind of ‘friend’ does that?”

Mingyu felt the heat creep up his neck, anger and confusion tangling in his chest. He opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Every accusation Jeonghan made landed too close to the truth, hitting on a part of him he refused to acknowledge.

“It’s not like that,” Mingyu muttered, though even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. “She’s different. She was there for me when no one else was, and now she’s gone. I owe her, Jeonghan. That’s all.”

Jeonghan stepped forward, his expression softening for a moment. “If you owe her, then give her more than just this frantic search. Be honest with yourself. If she’s just a friend, why did you let her become more? And if she’s more, why are you fighting so hard to deny it?”

Mingyu looked down, the room blurring as his thoughts spiraled. Memories of you, laughter shared in quiet moments, the way your eyes softened when you looked at him—all of it clashed with the image of Hyorin, the woman he once thought he’d spend his life with. The weight of conflicting emotions pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

He turned away from Jeonghan without another word, storming out of the office, his mind a chaotic mess.

Jeonghan sighed as he pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping impatiently as he called you. It took five rings before you finally picked up.

"Sorry, I had a shoot," you muttered, your voice laced with exhaustion. But that wasn’t the answer Jeonghan was looking for.

"You didn’t take the money. What is wrong with you?" he shot back, frustration sharp in his tone.

There was a pause on your end, the kind of pause that said more than words ever could. Then, a quiet sigh slipped through. "How do you know?"

"Kim Mingyu stormed into my office looking for you," Jeonghan said, his voice growing more clipped. "He’s running around like a madman, and you didn’t take the money! I thought we were clear, Y/n."

But it hadn’t been clear, and Jeonghan knew that. It was never clear when it came to you and Mingyu. Silence lingered on the line, thick and telling.

You thought you’d fallen in love alone.

Jeonghan wanted to scream at you, to tell you that Mingyu loved you back. He wanted to shout that Mingyu’s ego was too big for him to admit it, that Hyorin was a convenient excuse, and that the people around him had only ever clouded his judgment. But Jeonghan wasn’t naive. He knew Mingyu better than that. Deep down, he knew Mingyu cared for you. No, it was more than that — Mingyu wanted you. He just didn’t know how to want you properly.

"It’s complicated," you muttered, the words barely above a breath.

Jeonghan pressed a hand to his forehead, fingers threading through his hair. Since when had he, of all people, failed to understand "complicated"? He'd seen it from the beginning — the way Mingyu's gaze lingered too long on you, the way your eyes softened at the sight of him. He saw it every time Mingyu made an excuse for you to stay. Complicated was an understatement.

"Okay," Jeonghan exhaled heavily, trying to stay calm. "Where are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" you countered, voice laced with weariness and defiance. "I’m just at a shoot. It’s a little far away."

Jeonghan let out a dry scoff. "Don’t play with me, Y/n. I’m not in the mood." His eyes darted to the window, the sunlight blinding but not nearly as irritating as the situation. "I need to make sure Beomjae doesn't get to you. Who’s gonna do that after you left Mingyu, huh?"

There was another pause, and this time it lasted longer. The weight of his words settled into the air, heavy and undeniable.

"Jeju," you finally admitted, voice quieter than before. "I’m in Jeju Island."

Jeonghan closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. His head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling, lips curling into a faint, bitter smile.

"Of course you are," he muttered to himself, glancing out at the sky as if Jeju was close enough to see.

*

It was hard to control everything rationally when your heart had been battered one too many times — and it always seemed to be by the people you cared about most. Your father had left you with a crushing 35-billion-won debt. Your mother had left you behind as if you’d never existed. And now, Mingyu... You couldn’t even put into words what he had done to you, perhaps because he’d never truly been yours to begin with. He was just a friend. A friend who made you his contractual lover. How had it all come to this?

"That’s a wrap for tonight! Thank you so much for your hard work, everyone!" Boo Seungkwan's voice rang out loud and clear on set, cutting through the evening air.

He was the one who had cast you himself — handpicked you to play the lead in his film about a woman struggling with depression, seeking the meaning of life on Jeju Island. He’d told you he saw something in you, something raw and unspoken.

What a cruel twist of fate, you thought. The script no longer felt like a story you were telling. It had become your story. Every scene, every line, every emotion you were asked to portray felt like you were reliving your own pain on screen.

The crew slowly packed up, their tired voices fading as they made their way back to the rented house to rest. But you stayed behind, drawn to the shore like it had called your name. The night air was cool against your skin, and the steady lull of the waves was the only sound accompanying your thoughts.

You sat by the edge of the water, hugging your knees as you gazed at your reflection in the rippling surface. The moonlight softened the contours of your face, but it didn’t soften the hollow look in your eyes. The water moved, shimmering, shifting — it looked like it was calling you. Come closer, it seemed to say.

But you knew better. You knew that chasing that call wouldn’t solve anything. Ending it here wouldn’t leave anyone with peace — it would only leave scars. The kind of scars your mother had left behind when she vanished. She had been forgotten by most people, but for the ones who had loved her, the wounds never quite healed.

Who loves you, though?

The question struck you like a sudden gust of wind. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered, but tonight, the ache was sharper.

Has anyone ever truly loved you?

Your mind wandered to your first love.

Your first kiss.

Your first everything.

All of them had been with Kim Mingyu.

You blinked, your lips parting to whisper his name, "Kim Mingyu..." The sound of it disappeared into the breeze, unnoticed and unanswered.

It was foolish, you knew. Because at the end of it all, Mingyu didn’t love you. He loved someone else. Wi Hyorin.

Her name alone carried a weight you didn’t want to bear, but it settled on you regardless.

What’s so great about Wi Hyorin? you wondered bitterly, clenching your fists against your knees. Your heart wanted to scoff, but your mind was crueler.

She’s soft-spoken. Calm. Composed. Smart. And from a wealthy, well-respected family.

You let out a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp like glass breaking. Of course, it made sense. She was everything you weren’t.

So what about you?

Your lips pressed into a thin line. No words came to mind. Not a single one. Because what could you offer him? Debt? Baggage? A heart too bruised to believe in love anymore?

Nothing. That’s what.

The ocean breeze brushed past you, cold but oddly comforting, like a quiet reassurance that you were still here. Still alive. Still breathing. The waves rolled in and out, persistent and unyielding, never once doubting their place in the world. You envied them.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of the sea fill the hollow space inside you.

If only love could be as steady as the tide.

"Ji Y/n..."

The familiar voice made you freeze, your heart lurching in your chest. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the call.

Your eyes widened. Kim Mingyu.

He stood there, breathless, still in his office attire, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled. His chest rose and fell with each sharp breath, as if he’d run straight from the city to find you. His gaze locked on yours, his brows drawn together in a deep, urgent frown.

"You—" you stumbled toward him, your mind scrambling for words. "How did you get here? Why are you here?"

He chuckled lightly, a dry, breathless sound. His eyes, however, were far from playful. They were intense, sharp with resolve.

"You really want me to chase you, huh?" His voice was low, almost like a whisper meant only for you.

Before you could even process his words, he moved. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, firm but gentle at the same time. His warmth seeped into you, his heartbeat thudding steadily against your ear. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, caught completely off guard by his sudden embrace.

"Mingyu, what are you—"

"I need you, Y/n." His voice was low, rough, filled with something raw and unfiltered. He leaned his head down, his breath fanning lightly against your hair. His words fell like quiet confessions against your ear, each one carrying more weight than the last. "I need you in my life."

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into his shirt as if you were afraid he might disappear.

"You’re—" you pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His eyes, usually so guarded, were bare now, stripped of all his usual bravado. You saw it there — the honesty, the fear, the vulnerability. The love.

Your heartbeat felt like it stopped entirely when his next words fell from his lips.

"I think I love you, Y/n," he said, his gaze unwavering, his tone steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling between you both.

You blinked, stunned into silence. Your heart thudded painfully in your chest, faster and faster until it felt like it might burst.

"But..." Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "What about Hyorin?"

Mingyu’s eyes softened. He let out a slow, measured breath, as if he’d been waiting for that question. His hand cupped the back of your head, his thumb gently tracing small circles against your hair. His forehead leaned against yours, eyes closed, his next words spoken with absolute certainty.

"Not once in the past three months did I think about anyone but you."

The weight of his words crushed every doubt you’d been holding. It wasn’t just something he’d said to convince you — it was the truth, raw and undeniable.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your chest tight with the weight of all the unspoken feelings you’d been burying for so long.

"You’re cruel," you whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to hold back your tears. "You’re so, so cruel, Kim Mingyu."

"I know," he murmured, his eyes opening to meet yours, filled with guilt and something that looked too close to regret. "But I’m here now, Y/n. I’m here."

His arms tightened around you, his embrace firm and unyielding, as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

"And I’m not letting you go this time," he said softly, his voice steady but filled with an unshakable resolve.

Your breath came in shallow, uneven waves as you stared into his eyes. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Your heart wanted to believe him, but your mind, bruised and battered by everything that had come before, hesitated.

"You say that now," you muttered, your gaze dropping to his chest where your hands rested, still clutching his shirt. "But what happens when it gets hard again, Mingyu? What happens when Hyorin looks at you like you’re her whole world, and you start to doubt this—" You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "—start to doubt me?"

He tilted his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "I won’t."

"How can you be so sure?" Your voice cracked on the last word. "How am I supposed to believe you when it’s always been her? She was your dream, your everything. I was just—" Your voice broke entirely, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded. "I was just convenient."

"Stop," Mingyu said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. He cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were darker than usual, filled with something you hadn’t seen before — clarity.

"You were never convenient," he said, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closing as he breathed you in, like you were air after suffocating too long. "You were the only thing that ever made sense."

Your chest tightened, your breath hitching as you fought against the onslaught of emotions threatening to pull you under. "You’re just saying that because I left. People always want what they can’t have."

"No," he replied, his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of everything he’d been too blind to see before. "People always want what they’ve already lost."

Silence hung between you, thick and suffocating. The sound of waves crashing against the shore echoed in the distance, rhythmic and unending, a stark contrast to the storm brewing between you both.

"You didn’t lose me, Mingyu," you whispered, your voice small but certain. "You gave me away."

His face contorted with pain, his brows furrowing as if your words had physically struck him. His hands fell from your face, his head dropping low, his breathing sharp and shallow.

"You’re right," he muttered, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I did."

You took a step back, needing space to breathe, needing distance before your heart betrayed you again. "So why are you here now, Mingyu? What do you want from me?"

He lifted his head, eyes wild with desperation, his gaze locking onto yours with a ferocity you’d never seen before. He stepped forward, closing the distance you’d tried to create.

"I want you," he said with such raw intensity that it left you breathless. "Not as a friend. Not as an arrangement. I want you because I’m in love with you, Y/n. And it took me losing you to realize it, but I know it now. I know it with every part of me."

Your breath hitched. The waves crashed louder in the distance, or maybe it was the thundering of your heart in your ears. You shook your head, backing away another step, but Mingyu followed.

"You’re just scared," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re scared because I hurt you. I get it. I hurt you worse than anyone else ever has, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you I won’t hurt you again."

"Don’t promise me things you can’t keep, Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling with exhaustion and heartbreak. "I’m so tired of hearing people say they’ll stay, only for them to walk away."

"I’m not walking away," he said, his eyes glinting with determination. His voice didn’t rise, but it carried a conviction so strong that it made you pause. He took one slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze unwavering. "If you tell me to leave, I will. But if you tell me to stay, Y/n, I’ll never leave again. I swear it."

His words hung in the air between you, delicate but unbreakable.

Your breath trembled, your body taut like a wire pulled too tight. "And if you’re lying?"

"I’m not," he answered immediately, his gaze steady and sure. "But if I ever do, you won’t have to leave me, Y/n. I’ll walk away myself, knowing I never deserved you in the first place."

Silence. Long, heavy, unbearable silence.

The waves filled it. The seagulls in the distance filled it. But you didn’t speak.

He stood there, waiting, holding himself still like he was afraid that any sudden movement might scare you away. His chest rose and fell slowly, his breath measured, but his eyes... his eyes didn’t waver once.

"I hate you," you said softly, but your voice cracked in a way that betrayed you.

Mingyu exhaled a small, almost broken laugh. "I know."

"I hate how easy it is for you to say these things now," you continued, your lips trembling, tears brimming once more. "I hate how much I want to believe you."

"Then believe me," he said, stepping closer, his hand reaching out to take yours. He held it gently, like he was holding something fragile and precious. His eyes searched yours, soft but certain. "Believe me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice."

You stared at him, his words sinking in, the sincerity of it wrapping around your heart like a thread you couldn’t untangle. It terrified you how much you wanted to believe him.

"Mingyu," you whispered, his name a breath, a plea, a warning all in one.

"I’m here," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m right here."

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you hated him for that too. Why did he always make you cry? Your fingers gripped his shirt, your forehead pressing against his chest as the weight of everything came crashing down.

"You better not be lying," you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but not lost. "If you are, I’ll never forgive you."

Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in with a tenderness that shattered every wall you’d built. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"I’m not lying," he whispered, his voice steady as the waves beyond you both. "I’m never lying to you again."

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe him.

*

"Cut!"

The director’s voice echoed through the set, and the entire crew let out a collective sigh of relief. Mingyu watched from the sidelines, his gaze fixed on you. His lips tugged into a small, proud smile as he saw you beam at everyone, bowing politely and thanking each crew member for their hard work. Your energy was infectious, even after a long day of filming.

"That’s a wrap, everyone!" Boo Seungkwan, the ever-lively director, announced with his trademark enthusiasm.

Mingyu stepped forward, his presence as commanding as ever in his sleek suit. Seungkwan spotted him and grinned, walking over with open arms. They exchanged a firm handshake, the weight of trust and friendship clear in the gesture.

"This movie better be a hit," Mingyu joked, his deep voice laced with playful seriousness.

Seungkwan snorted, rolling his eyes. "With your investment? It better be. I’m not about to ruin my spotless reputation."

"You should be grateful," Mingyu shot back, raising an eyebrow. "I let you use my name and my wife's name for this movie. And I even let her make a cameo appearance." His grin widened with mock arrogance, and Seungkwan waved him off like he’d heard it all before.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Investor," Seungkwan quipped, tilting his head in a sarcastic bow. "I’ll be sure to write that in the credits — 'With gracious permission from Kim Mingyu, the benevolent.' How’s that sound?"

Mingyu's laugh came from deep in his chest, sharp and rich with amusement. "Don’t forget to add 'world’s most handsome husband' in there too," he added, eyes flicking toward you as you approached.

Seungkwan's gaze followed Mingyu's line of sight, and his face lit up as he noticed you walking toward them. Your smile was bright, your strides light and confident, even as exhaustion clung to the edges of your movements.

"Amazing," Seungkwan muttered under his breath, his grin turning sly as he watched Mingyu’s entire demeanor soften.

“Thank you so much for letting me be part of this movie, Director Boo,” you greeted Seungkwan warmly. Your voice was light, your eyes crinkling with genuine gratitude.

“Trust me, I wish I could’ve had you in more scenes,” Seungkwan replied, shooting a teasing look at Mingyu. “But this man refused to let me put you in for more than two.”

Mingyu, as if on cue, jabbed at Seungkwan’s side, but Seungkwan dodged with the agility of someone who had been friends with Mingyu for far too long.

"Don’t listen to him," you said, letting out a soft, melodic laugh. Your hand rested lightly on Mingyu’s arm, grounding him in a way only you could. "I would’ve been happy with more scenes. Honestly, I would’ve loved to do more if you'd asked."

Seungkwan’s eyes widened with dramatic flair as he whipped around to face Mingyu. "See? See? Your wife doesn’t mind. She’s a professional, unlike some people I know."

Mingyu shook his head, his lips quirking into a grin that didn’t quite hide his possessiveness. "Nope. Absolutely not. I’m the one who minds," he declared, his eyes darting to you like he was staking a claim. "My wife is pregnant, and she needs to rest. No long shoots, no late nights, no unnecessary stress."

You shot him a playful glare, pinching his side just hard enough to make him flinch. “My husband is a bit noisy, isn’t he?” you said, glancing at Seungkwan like you were seeking solidarity.

Seungkwan raised both hands in surrender, his smile wide with amusement. “Don’t look at me. I’m not about to go against Mr. Handsome Husband, World’s Best Protector.” He snickered, his eyes darting between you and Mingyu. "But if it were up to me, you’d be in every scene."

Mingyu pulled you close by the waist, his hand resting protectively on your lower back, his thumb rubbing soft, absentminded circles. He leaned in, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of pride and adoration he could never seem to hide.

“It’s not up to you, Seungkwan,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving you. “We’ll be taking our leave now, Director Boo. My wife needs to rest.”

His words were simple, but the affection in his tone made your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, your eyes softening, and this time, you didn’t fight him on it.

“Take care, Director,” you said with a small bow. Seungkwan waved you off with a knowing grin, watching the two of you walk away.

“Yeah, yeah, go be all in love or whatever,” he called out, unable to hide the affection in his teasing.

As you walked side by side with Mingyu, his hand firm and steady on your back, you glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Possessive much?” you teased quietly, nudging him with your elbow.

“Protective,” he corrected, glancing down at you with that look that always made your heart stumble. His eyes softened as they lingered on you, his voice quieter now. "I’m protecting what’s mine."

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers intertwined with his, and you squeezed his hand just a little tighter.

“Okay, Mr. Handsome Husband, World’s Best Protector,” you murmured, leaning your head against his arm as the two of you walked off into the evening light.

*

Seungkwan sat with the entire cast during the promotional interview for his highly anticipated movie. The host was lively and charismatic, effortlessly guiding the conversation while bringing out the natural chemistry between the cast. Laughter filled the room, and the atmosphere was warm and relaxed.

“Director Boo,” the host began with a playful grin, leaning forward with curiosity. “You mentioned that this movie was inspired by your friend’s story, right? Care to spill a little tea on that?”

Laughter erupted from the cast and audience. Seungkwan’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands frantically as if to push away the implication. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he quickly composed himself.

“Ah, I don’t want anyone to misunderstand,” Seungkwan said, half-laughing, half-sighing. “It’s not like that. I drew inspiration from a lot of places — life experiences, stories I’ve heard, observations. But,” he paused, his grin turning sly, “I’ll admit, my favorite actress, Ji Y/n, agreed to make a cameo, and we did use her name and her husband’s name for the characters.”

“Oho!” the host gasped, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Using your friend’s actual names? Sounds very intentional, Director Boo!”

More laughter followed, with some of the cast members playfully nudging Seungkwan as if to expose him further.

“Look, look, look,” Seungkwan chuckled, his hands raised in surrender. “It’s not like their relationship is exactly like the one in the movie. It’s totally the opposite, I promise!” His gaze flickered to the camera, as if directly addressing the viewers. “They’re an amazing couple, honestly. The kind of couple that makes you believe in love again.”

The host’s eyes narrowed with mock suspicion, leaning forward like he’d just uncovered a scandal. “So you’re telling me that you just so happened to name the characters after them and just so happened to cast her as a cameo?”

The audience howled with laughter, and Seungkwan pressed his palms together in a mock plea for mercy. “I’m innocent, I swear! I’m just a man trying to tell a good story!”

"Glad he didn’t mention that the 35 billion won contract was actually true," you muttered, eyes glued to the television as the interview played. Your three-month-old daughter, Sera, lay in your arms, breastfeeding peacefully. Her tiny fingers occasionally curled and uncurled against your skin.

Mingyu let out a long, exasperated sigh from beside you. "I should’ve read the script myself before signing that deal," he groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. "I didn’t think Seungkwan would actually bring up the contract."

"Why? Feeling a little exposed now?" you teased, shooting him a sly grin. "Starting to see what an asshole you were back then?"

His gasp was immediate, his eyes wide with faux horror. "Language, woman!" he said dramatically, reaching over to cover baby Sera’s tiny ears. "She can hear you, you know."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a soft laugh. Gently, you lifted Sera from your chest and placed her carefully in her crib. Her lips puckered in her sleep, and her little body shifted slightly before settling back into slumber. You watched her for a moment longer, letting that familiar warmth fill your chest.

With Sera safe and sound, you made your way back to Mingyu, plopping down beside him on the couch. Your head found a home against his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles.

“It’s true, though,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling as if reliving the memory. “Everyone thought I was gay, and somehow, my genius solution was to get a contractual girlfriend.” He shook his head at his younger self, clearly unimpressed.

"But you have to admit," you murmured, your voice low and teasing, "I was way too gorgeous to pass up, huh?"

Mingyu glanced down at you, his eyes softening with that look he reserved only for you. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face, and he let out a quiet chuckle, the deep rumble of it vibrating through his chest.

"You are," he said simply, his hand coming up to rest on top of yours. "The most gorgeous mistake I ever made… and the only one I’d make again."

His words were so sincere, so steady, that it made your heart squeeze in your chest. You tilted your head up, catching his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. It was one of those rare silences where everything was already understood.

"Smooth talker," you whispered, lips curling into a smile as you leaned up to kiss him softly.

"Only for you," he replied, his voice a little quieter now, his eyes still locked on you like you were the only person in the world.

And in moments like this — with your baby girl sleeping soundly nearby and the man who once made the worst mistake of his life now holding you like you were his greatest treasure — you believed it.

[imaginespazzi]

Our Merry Eternity

And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.

(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint

Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)

TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing

A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3

It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas) 

Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it. 

Until now. 

Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi. 

And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life. 

“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests. 

“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”

“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”

Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest. 

“I do not make people slave around for me.”

“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”

“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”

“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama. 

“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too. 

“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”

The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need  something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet. 

“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”

Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything. 

“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at. 

“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”

“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”

“But Azziiiiiii-”

“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”

“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose. 

“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely. 

“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”

“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily. 

Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”

“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”

“Az-”

“Take it back!”

“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues. 

“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”

“Nope!”

“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum. 

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps. 

“Try me.”

Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.

2. With you (under the mistletoe)

The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first. 

But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck. 

It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much. 

But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want. 

“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew. 

Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls. 

“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”

“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”

“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks. 

“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”

Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”

But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream. 

“WHAT THE FU-”

“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways. 

“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”

For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt. 

If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead. 

“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags. 

“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt. 

“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face. 

And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors. 

Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her. 

“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”

Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”

“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”

Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”

“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”

Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde. 

“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.” 

It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms. 

“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”

Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing,  “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”

“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them. 

“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can. 

And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing. 

“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”

“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”

3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)

“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it. 

She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”

“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth. 

But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago. 

The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing. 

“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach. 

“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual. 

“Said what?”

Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”

The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?

“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever. 

“Azzi-”

“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly. 

She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing. 

“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone. 

“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly. 

Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning. 

“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”

“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing. 

***

Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in. 

She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery. 

Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips. 

She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep  -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply. 

Good morning Paigey <3 

She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply. 

I miss you baby. 

Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?

She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead. 

I love you Paige. 

“I love you too Azzi.”

Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her. 

“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream. 

“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”

“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return. 

“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”

“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette. 

“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”

Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”

And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch. 

“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief. 

It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts. 

“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone. 

“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips. 

“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”

“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”

“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest. 

“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still. 

Azzi pouts, “why not?”

When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”

“What?” 

“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”

Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”

Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”

“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight. 

“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”

But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend. 

“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”

4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree) 

Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder. 

“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”

Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer-  and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it. 

“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt. 

Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”

“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head. 

“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy. 

“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder. 

“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”

Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”

Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips. 

“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”

“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.  

Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless. 

Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other. 

Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender. 

Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot. 

“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”

Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong. 

“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”

Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears. 

“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”

Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”

And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them. 

“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year. 

Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”

Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”

5. All I want (for Christmas is you) 

There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids. 

Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek. 

“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever. 

“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”

“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”

Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”

“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”

Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it. 

“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”

Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”

“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents. 

“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”

Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister. 

“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”

“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder. 

“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”

Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is. 

“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one. 

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is. 

“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”

Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.

“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”

Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”

“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.

They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”

Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”

“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, ticking him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”

Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask. 

“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”

Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”

She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-size blue one. 

“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”

Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands. 

“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest. 

“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”

Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart. 

“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”

“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”

Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves. 

“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”

Azzi  turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”

“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”

“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing. 

“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”

“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”

“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”

“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”

The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols. 

“Open it,” Azzi says softly. 

“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands. 

“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”

Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what’s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding. 

“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words. 

“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture  “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.” 

“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”

Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck. 

“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”

“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”

[rosemariiaa]

00 ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

𐙚—pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚—rosie’s note: merry xmas my lovelies, this is my gift to you! happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—links: rosie’s bookshelf, rewind my heart masterlist

𐙚—themes: time travel, angst (kinda)

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @juspeaks @sierrale8ne @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @d3arapril @guesswhoitsn @xxloveralways14 @ashortyluvsports

enjoy!!!

The apartment is too quiet without her.

It’s been hours since Azzi left, her pink bonnet stuffed into her purse, the overnight bag she’d packed slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look back when she closed the door behind her, and Paige didn’t stop her.

Not this time.

Paige leans against the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the half-empty bottle of water in her hand. The sun is setting, painting the skyline outside her window in muted oranges and purples, but she barely notices. The air in the apartment feels heavy, suffocating in its silence.

Her knee aches from today’s workout—a reminder of the game she has in two days. She should be focused on that, but her mind is miles away.

Back to Azzi. Back to their argument.

The fight wasn’t about anything major. None of them ever were. But it was loud. Ugly. The kind of argument that feels like it’s about everything and nothing all at once.

“You don’t even try anymore, Paige!” Azzi’s voice had cracked with frustration, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re so scared of—of whatever this is that you’re ruining it before it can even work.”

“And you’re not?” Paige had snapped back, her voice sharp and cutting. “You’re the one with one foot out the door every time things get hard.”

Azzi had gone quiet then, her lips pressing into a thin line. It was the kind of silence that made Paige want to take it all back, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, Azzi had turned on her heel, grabbed her things, and left.

That was three hours ago.

Paige swallows hard, setting the water bottle down on the counter. Her phone buzzes on the island, but she doesn’t check it. It’s probably her coach or a teammate, someone reminding her of the life she’s supposed to be living.

But all Paige can think about is the pink bonnet Azzi left behind. The one she’s worn every night since they were 19 and sharing cramped student apartments in Connecticut.

How did it get to this? How did they go from late-night talks in Paige’s dorm room to this endless cycle of arguing and leaving?

Paige sighs, running a hand through her hair as she drags herself toward the bedroom. Maybe Azzi just needs time to cool off. Maybe this is one of those fights they’ll laugh about later, the way they always used to.

She doesn’t even bother turning on the lights as she collapses onto the bed, burying her face in the purple blanket Azzi gave her their first Christmas together.

It still smells like her.

Paige closes her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under.

—

When I wake up, something feels… wrong.

It’s the light that hits my face first, warm and bright and all wrong for my LA apartment. Then it’s the smell—not Azzi’s perfume or the lavender candle that I keep on the dresser, but something familiar and distant.

My eyes blink open, and for a moment, I can’t seem to breathe.

This can’t be happening.

I blink again, but nothing changes. I stare at the spinning bookshelf, the neatly stacked trophies, the PS5 humming quietly on the dresser—it’s all there. The TV mounted on the wall shows the home screen I haven’t seen in years. My purple sheets are a little wrinkled, the fluffy blanket half spilling onto the floor, but it still smells like fabric softener and familiarity.

My eyes catch on the vanity across the room, where Azzi’s pink bonnet and my Bible sit side by side. My heart clenches. She always left them there.

My fingers dig into the mattress as I sit up, my knee protesting the sudden movement. This isn’t my apartment in Los Angeles. This isn’t my life now. This is… this is my senior-year room at UConn.

The student apartment. The one I shared with Azzi, Nika, Jana, and Ice.

I force myself to stand, even as my chest feels like it’s caving in. The layout of the room is burned into my memory, down to the picture frame sitting on Azzi’s side of the vanity. The photo is of the two of us, taken back when things between us were still too undefined to explain.

The blanket she likes to steal is still folded at the foot of my bed. Her favorite UConn hoodie is draped over my beanbag. A pair of her sneakers sits in the corner, her name written in small letters on the tongue.

Her stuff is scattered everywhere, like it always was, because we spent most nights sleeping in my room instead of hers.

I look around, desperate for an answer. For anything that will tell me this isn’t real.

But it is.

It’s all exactly as I left it in 2025. My senior year.

The year I ruined everything.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it like it might give me an explanation.

October 12, 2024.

I nearly drop it. My hands are shaking as I swipe to my texts.

azzi: workout in 20 paigey, be ready when i get there

nika: tell Ice if she clogs the sink again with her hair, I’m moving out.

My breath catches in my throat. I read the texts again, trying to make sense of it, but they feel too familiar. Too real. My hands drop to my sides as the phone slips from my grasp.

This doesn’t make sense.

I glance toward Azzi’s bed. I was always glad my room was the only one with a spare bed, her bed was perfectly made like always. Her per led lights cast a soft glow over the walls, and the scent of her body lotion lingers in the air.

Memories rush back like a punch to the gut. The year we tried to be “just friends.” The year we failed. The year I let fear ruin everything we had.

I drag myself into the kitchen, needing space to think. The student apartment is quiet, but it feels like a time capsule. Jana’s mismatched sneakers are by the door. Nika’s pink Hydro Flask sits on the counter. Ice’s protein shake blender is still sitting in the sink.

Everything is exactly as it was.

But why? Why now? Why this year?

I stare out the window, the view of campus just as I remember. The ache in my knee pulls me back to reality. I know this feeling. I know this time.

I press my hands against the counter, gripping it tightly as the realization sinks in.

I’m back. Back in my senior year. Back in the year Azzi and I were finally supposed to get it right.

And I have no idea why.

My phone buzzes again on the counter.

azzi: coffee or no? answer my texts don’t be weird

Her name on my screen feels like a lifeline and a weight all at once.

This was the year it all fell apart.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s also the year I can put it back together.

———

𐙚— rosie’s note: okay psa, the chapters for this series should take too long to post, as i mentioned before i really do like this plot and it’s good for me to work with so you should’ve have to wait too long :) also hope u enjoyed muah!

[greengoblinswifey]

Winter’s Embrace— Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

summary— Spending Christmas in a cozy cabin, you help Bucky reconnect with the holiday spirit in more ways than one and have the best Christmas gift he’s ever experienced.

warnings— mentions of bucky’s past trauma, fluff, L bombs, praise kink, daddy kink, oral, fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— Merry Christmas Everyone, have a wonderful day🎄🫶🏽!

Bucky wasn’t much of a holiday person. He didn’t hate Christmas, but the memories of simpler times before the war, before Hydra, often left him feeling hollow. You knew this, and that was why you decided to whisk him away to a secluded cabin in the mountains for Christmas. You hoped a change of scenery might help him associate the holiday with something warm and new, something just for the both of you.

The cabin was a cozy little thing tucked into the snowy woods, decorated with warm pepper lights strung along the edges of the wooden roof. Inside, a stone fireplace crackled with a soft orange glow, and the scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You’d spent the afternoon decorating a Christmas tree, playfully arguing with Bucky about where to hang the ornaments.

“Babe, you can’t put all the gold ones on one side,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to fix one of the baubles he’d clumsily placed.

“Well, I’m just trying to balance it,” he said with a smirk, stepping behind you to steady your waist as you reached higher. “And don’t forget, doll, I’m working with one arm here. I deserve a little grace.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Fine, you win. But next year, we’re getting a way taller and bigger tree.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a warm shiver down your spine. “Next year, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Later that evening, after the two of you shared a simple dinner, Bucky pulled out a box you hadn’t seen before. He hesitated, holding it for a moment before placing it on the table.

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Something I didn’t mean to pack,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I threw it in by accident when I was grabbing decorations.”

Inside the box were a few fragile ornaments, clearly from decades ago. One of them, a little snowman with a crooked top hat, caught your eye.

“This is adorable,” you said, holding it up gently.

Bucky’s gaze softened as he stared at the ornament. “My sister made that when we were kids. It’s one of the few things I still have from, uh, back then.” His voice faltered, and you reached out to hold his hand.

“You’ve been through so much,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his metal ones. “But you’re here now, and you’ve made it through all of it. You deserve this happiness, Bucky. You deserve this Christmas, and so much more.”

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a small smile. “You’re the reason I even try, you know that? Without you, I’d just—I don’t know.”

“Don’t do that,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re more than your past, Buck. And I’m here for all of it, every memory, every moment. Even the bad ones, if it means I get to be with you.”

The fire crackled softly as he cupped your face in his warm hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re my whole world, sweetheart,” he murmured, his blue eyes locked on yours. “I didn’t think I could have this. I didn’t think I could have you.”

You leaned into his touch, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. It deepened naturally, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely above a breath.

The warmth of the fire and the way his hands roamed your back made you feel safe, wanted, and completely at ease. Before you knew it, he had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with a look of pure adoration.

“I need this Buck, it would make tonight all the more special,” you whispered, as Bucky placed you gently on the plush bed.

“Anything for you doll.”

Bucky stripped you of your clothes, leaving your body bare as he kissed from your collarbone trailing down to your thighs.

“So so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “I got so lucky.”

You squirmed under his touch as he nipped on your inner thigh before inching to your clit, his tongue slowly flicking it.

“Buck, please,” you whined.

“That’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he said, voice gruff before swiping his tongue along your folds.

“Daddy—m’sorry, I just need more,” you whimpered.

He granted your wish, his mouth engulfing your clit and sucking. Your body shivered as he held your legs spread eagle, savoring your sweet taste. You tasted better than anything he’d eaten all Christmas season.

“You taste amazing baby, fucking hell,” he groaned, licking from your leaking entrance back up to your clit. He slipped a finger inside your pussy, curling it and pumping steadily as his tongue focused on sucking and flicking your bundle of nerves.

“Daddy, that feels so good, don’t stop, m’ gonna cum,” you whimpered.

Bucky hummed in content, holding you down as you squirmed and pumped his fingers even faster. Your clit was swollen and throbbing on his tongue as a powerful orgasm neared.

“C‘mon angel, cum for daddy, all over my tongue,” he commanded.

Ever the obedient girlfriend, your fingers tangled in his brown hair, and you ground against his mouth as a stream of liquid spurted from your pussy.

“Mm— that’s it’s, that’s a good girl,” he cooed.

He helped you ride out your high, his fingers pumping inside your pussy as he slurped your juices before you were shaking from overstimulation.

“Can you fuck my face, daddy?” you asked shyly, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

“Anything my angel wants, she gets,” he whispered.

Bucky climbed over your body, shedding himself of his bottoms and revealing his thick, hard cock. You took ahold of it, barely able to wrap your hand around it and placed a kiss on the leaking tip.

“It’s always so pretty daddy,” you whispered, placing wet kisses all over his cock.

He wrapped your hair in his flesh hand and thrusted his cock into your mouth, immediately making you gag.

“Fuck, you’re okay, right baby?”

You nodded and buried your face into his cock, gliding your tongue along the veins on his shaft. He snapped his hips forward, fucking your mouth as he praised you.

“You’re such a good cock sucker baby, so amazing, don’t think I’m gonna last long with that mouth of yours,” he moaned.

As he slammed into your mouth, you used your soft hands to massage his balls, feeling them tighten under your touch.

“Shit, it’s coming, take my cum down your throat, angel,” he gasped, unable to hold back.

You pushed your head down until you were almost touching his pelvis, massaging his balls as his hot load shot down your throat. He continued fucking your throat as you swallowed every drop and looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Good girl, fuck, I love you,” he sighed, moving down and placing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

He moved further down, dragging the tip of his cock along your wet pussy.

“Ready angel?” he asked, lining his cock with your entrance.

You nodded frantically, desperate to feel his hard cock, deep inside you, raw.

He slowly inched inside you, both of you gasping in pleasure. “You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he whimpered, staring into your eyes.

“Mhm—harder daddy, please,” you whined.

Bucky began steadily pounding into you harder, your pussy making noises that could be heard throughout the cabin. He rolled his hips beautifully, his cock brushing against your cervix and your g spot simultaneously. You could feel him throb each time you moaned and clamped around him.

“You feel so fucking good, you take it so well,” moaned.

He leaned down, kissing your temple and then your lips as you wrapped your legs around him and met his hard thrusts. Your pussy clenched around him tight, desperate for release.

“Shit baby, cum for daddy, I need you to cum with me, I won’t last with the way this tight pussy is just gripping the fuck outta me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes locked onto his, the moment so dirty yet intimate as your jaw fell agape and the coil in your abdomen snapped.

“Daddy, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming,” you cried out, your release ripping through you.

“Me too angel, I’m gonna cum inside you, take every drop,” he panted.

Your body shook under him as you felt him fill you up just as your pussy soaked his cock and the towel under you. He placed kisses all over, slowly pumping his cock as you milked him of his warm seed.

“You did so good angel, I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you so much, Bucky.”

“I love you too, doll.”

The next morning, you woke to the smell of hot chocolate and the sight of Bucky standing by the window, holding two mugs and watching the snow fall.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he said with a soft smile, handing you a cup as you sat up in bed.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart swelling as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

The morning passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and exchanging gifts. Bucky had outdone himself, presenting you with an delicately engraved bracelet, a stack of books you’d mentioned months ago, and a soft cashmere sweater that matched the chocolate tone of your skin perfectly.

“You’re so sweet,” you said, shaking your head as you pulled him into a hug.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, kissing your temple.

Your gifts to him included a leather-bound journal, a vintage pocket watch, and a pair of gloves for his metal hand that you’d custom-ordered. The way his face lit up at each gift made your heart ache with love.

“Seriously, doll, you didn’t have to do all this,” he said, pulling you into his lap as the two of you sat by the tree.

“You’re worth it, Buck,” you said, cupping his face.

The day ended with the two of you baking cookies—well, you baked, and Bucky mostly snuck bites of the dough and curling up on the couch to watch It’s a Wonderful Life.

As the credits rolled, he pressed a kiss to your hair and murmured, “This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “It’s only the beginning, Buck. We’ll make so many more.”

And for the first time in years, Bucky truly believed it.

Bucky smiled as you adjusted the settings on the small digital camera you’d brought along, the vintage style device fitting perfectly with the cozy holiday vibe of the cabin. “C’mere, you look so fine,” you said, waving him over to the couch where you had draped a plaid blanket for your makeshift photo session.

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “You really want to document this?”

“Duh!” you said with a grin, leaning closer to frame the two of you in the shot. “This is our first Christmas together, Buck. I want to remember it forever.”

“Alright,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “But if I look ridiculous, you’re deleting it.”

“Deal,” you teased, snapping the picture.

You ended up taking dozens of photos, some posed, some candid, and some of Bucky caught mid laugh as you tickled his sides to get him to smile. When you were done, you set the camera aside and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I also have this,” you said, handing him a tiny gift bag from under the tree.

“What’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out a small, personalized keychain engraved with the words “Home is wherever you are.”

“It’s cheesy, I know,” you said, suddenly shy. “But I thought—”

“I love it,” he interrupted, his voice soft. He attached it to his keys immediately, turning it over in his hands. “Thank you, angel. You always know how to make things special.”

Later, the two of you ventured outside, bundled up in coats and scarves, to build a snowman in the fresh snow. You laughed as Bucky insisted on giving the snowman a “metal arm” made of a stick he found, complete with a dramatic pose.

When the sun began to set, you returned to the cabin to warm up by the fire. Bucky brewed hot chocolate while you set up a board game, the two of you spending hours teasing and laughing over your competitive streaks.

As the night wound down, you turned on the record player in the corner, selecting a soft, jazzy Christmas tune. Bucky took your hand, pulling you into an impromptu dance in the middle of the room. His hands rested securely on your waist as yours looped around his neck, and the two of you swayed in time with the music.

“I never thought I’d have this again,” Bucky murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“Have what?” you asked softly, brushing your thumb over the nape of his neck.

“This,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Happiness. A home. You.”

You kissed him tenderly, your hearts full of love and the promise of many more Christmases to come.

[azuresaqua]

little gifts

warnings + notes: kinich x reader, fluff, 2,4k words, secret santa submission for @vxnuslogy :) HI VEE !!!! i am your secret santa this year i hope you liked the fic :] tried to incorporate the things you like in this fic so !!! <3

PRESENT TIME

You consider Kinich to be a sentimental person. Why? Because when you accidentally stumble upon a box in your shared closet with the label “from my love” which is filled with things you had gotten him before and while you were dating, everything is in perfect condition. Nothing is broken, dirty, not a speck of dust in sight - as if he’d been secretly taking care of it.

“You’re snooping through my stuff now?” Kinich’s voice echoes through the room, laced with a slight amusement. He walks closer to you, peering inside the box. “Oh, you found it.”

“You kept all this?” you ask, taking out the first item in the box which is a little dragon keychain with a broken handle.

-

FIRST GIFT - DRAGON KEYCHAIN

The first time you ever gave Kinich a gift was during one of your “dates”. It wasn’t really a date, now that you actually think about it. It was way before the two of you started dating and Mualani and Kachina were there with you, so basically it was more of a hangout rather than a date (but Kinich will still think of it as a one).

The four of you had just finished the final exams of your last semester in university (while Kachina had just finished her last exams in high school), and Mualani had suggested to go hang out at a nearby mall to celebrate finally finishing exams. Of course, you and Kachina agreed almost instantly while Kinich had to be dragged by you and Mualani to come along.

“Ah, the mall!” Mualani took in a deep breath of “mall air” as she calls it and placed her hands on her hips, a triumphant smile on her face. “I’m finally back!” she threw her arms open, people passing by staring at her weirdly. “Y/N, tell me, how does it feel to finally be back in the mall after that tortuous week of non-stop studying?” Mualani slung a hand over your shoulder.

“I was back here just a few days ago…” you admitted, Mualani giving you a betrayed look. “I’m sorry! My parents took me out for dinner when they saw how hard I was studying last week.” you gave Mualani an apologetic look and she sighs.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you this time,” Mualani said and then gave you a cheeky smile. “However…” she trails off, changing her cheeky smile into something more… suspicious.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked nervously. Mualani isn’t mean, everyone knows that, but sometimes her plans are extraordinary, to say the least. What you were afraid of was accidentally letting out your secret of having a crush on Kinich. “Don’t be-” you tried whispering in her ear but Mualani suddenly grabbed Kinich’s hand and pulled him closer to you.

“My plan for today is to give each other gifts for finishing our exams!” Mualani exclaimed a little too excitedly. You had your suspicions that she just came up with that idea like five seconds ago, but you had no energy left to argue with her. “I was going to use spin the wheel to choose who gets who, but since someone went to the mall without us knowing,” she gave you a side eye. “I’m pairing you with Kinich!”

“Isn’t this a little unfair?” you complained.

“What’s unfair?” Mualani gave you a wink. “I think it’s a perfect opportunity to show whether or not you know the other person well.”

Kinich, who hadn’t been saying anything for the past ten minutes or so, suddenly spoke up. “That’s fine with me. I think this is a fun event.”

“See?” Mualani said. “Even Kinich doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the only one who disagrees with this plan of mine.”

You narrowed your eyes, spotting Kachina behind Mualani who was watching this whole ordeal with an amused smile on her face. “Hey! Kachina hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t it be rude of us just to go along with this if one person hasn’t said anything yet?”

Kachina, thrusted into the spotlight, flushed with embarrassment. “I-I don’t mind, really. I think it’s a fun activity.”

You stared at Kachina with a ‘you betrayed me’ look in your eyes and groaned in defeat. Eventually, after some more discussions, you split up - Kachina with Mualani and you with Kinich.

It was a quiet walk around the mall, you not knowing what to say and because Kinich is… well, Kinich. It’s nerve-wracking, really, being around him alone. You opened your mouth to say something but closed it back again not knowing how to say it.

Kinich might have noticed you getting all nervous because he suddenly spoke up. “Wanna split up? That way we’ll be surprised when we see the items we got.”

“Oh, yeah sure! That’s a good idea,” you replied. “So…”

“I’ll go this way.” Kinich pointed to his left. “We’ll meet back here in 40 minutes?”

“Okay,” you replied and saw Kinich walk away with his hands in his pockets. You let out a shaky breath, lightly slapping yourself on your cheeks to focus. “I can do this. Just get him something he likes.”

Around ten minutes of you walking around five different stores, you felt defeated. There was nothing you could find for Kinich in this mall, heck, you didn’t even know what he liked! He’d never been vocal about anything that piqued his interest, and even if he does find something cool, he fixates on it for a few minutes and then suddenly seems to lose interest.

Then, an idea pops into your head. The few times you’ve been in Kinich’s home (with the others of course), you’ve seen a few dragon stickers on his table and his wardrobe. There are just a few, but you have noticed that maybe Kinich likes anything related to dragons.

Walking into a store that sells many little trinkets, you spotted a cute little dragon keychain. There were a few options on display, but the blue, black, and green dragon keychain caught your eye. It resembled Kinich so well that it’s basically him in dragon form. It was subtle but enough for someone to catch if you were to squint your eyes at his bag.

“Perfect,” you muttered, grabbing it and walking over to the cashier. Walking back to the spot you agreed to rendezvous in, you spotted him already waiting there for you, a bag in his hands and his attention focused on his phone. “Kinich!”

He lifted his head and placed his phone in his pocket. “You sure took your time.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “It took me a while to choose the perfect gift.”

“It’s okay,” Kinich said. “Mualani said to meet up in this cafe on the second floor.” You nodded and followed him up to the cafe.

Mualani and Kachina were already sitting on the chairs with gift bags on the table. Mualani saw the two of you and waved her arm, signaling you to come over. “Hey! What took you guys so long? We ordered some cheesecake and drinks,” you and Kinich sat down on the sofa side, making yourself comfortable.

“You know me so well, Mualani,” you teased, taking one plate of the cheesecake. “Oh, this is yummy.”

“Right?!” Kachina exclaimed, almost too excitedly. “Best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted.”

Mualani laughed, giving her a pat on her head. “Seems like someone has been missing out on some cheesecakes during her exam period,” Kachina let out an embarrassed laugh. “Well! Since we’re all here, let’s get to the present exchange shall we?”

“Wait- now?” you almost choked on your dessert, “Shouldn’t we finish our food first?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Eating cheesecake while opening our presents is a fun time!” Mualani explained. “Since you complained, you’re going first.”

“Hey-!” you tried to complain, but Kinich handed his gift to you. “You could’ve at least waited for me to finish eating.” You took one more bite out of your cheesecake and exchanged gifts with him.

“You can go first,” Kinich said, urging you to open the present.

You hummed and opened the bag. You gasped when you saw what was inside. Now, Mualani didn’t specify how many gifts you were supposed to buy for the other, but anyone would have thought one was enough. But Kinich had in fact gotten you three gifts.

You took out the first two items which were books, the ones you had been dreaming of buying but didn’t have enough money for. “You got me Franz Kafka’s books?! Kinich, this is too much.”

“I don’t think so,” Kinich replied softly. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks for our exams so I think you deserve them.”

You swear you were about to cry from how sweet his words are. Taking out the last gift was what made you cry for real - it was a bracelet, and once again, one you have been wanting to buy for a long time but not enough money to buy it. The pretty pink charms captivated you the moment you laid your eyes on it. Happy tears streamed down your face as you looked up at Kinich. “Isn’t this over your budget?”

“I have been saving my money since I didn’t really have anything I wanted to buy,” Kinich answered, giving you the sweetest smile in the world.

“How did you know I wanted these?” you asked.

“You mentioned it a few times before,” Kinich replied. “During our hangouts and free time. The last time we went to the mall together I remember you walking into the bookstore, staring at those two in particular for a long time.”

“Huh? Wait a minute, when did the two of you go out together?” Mualani asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’ve ever-” You almost leapt across the table to cover Mualani’s mouth, to prevent her from saying more.

“You and Kachina were busy, and I was bored, so I asked Kinich to hang out with me,” you said, clearing your throat. You grabbed the small bag next to you, suddenly feeling anxious about giving it to him. “I feel bad for only giving you this one item, but I tried my best, I promise.”

Kinich took the bag from your hands and retrieved the little dragon keychain you bought. He stared at it for ten seconds without saying anything, and you thought he was about to say he didn’t like it, but when a smile appeared on his face, you felt relieved. “This is really cute, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything else,” you felt embarrassed only getting him so little. “This was the only thing I found that reminded me of you.”

Kinich blinked and you swear you saw the tip of his ears turn red, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just the lighting. “No, I love it, really…”

Mualani suddenly cleared her throat. “Did you two forget we were here or something? Stop flirting in front of us!”

You choked out an embarrassed noise. “We are not flirting!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

In the midst of bickering with Mualani it was a shame you didn’t notice how Kinich’s eyes were trained on you the whole time.

-

PRESENT TIME

“Remember the way me and Mualani were arguing on whether or not we were openly flirting in front of her and Kachina?” you giggle. “Pretty sure Kachina couldn’t look us in the eyes for a few days after that.”

Kinich squats down next to you, holding the dragon keychain in his hands. “Yeah, that was really funny to see,” he flips it around, examining it. “It’s a shame we can’t fix the handle. I really loved using it on my bag.”

“We can always get a new one, you know?” you reply. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this was cheap…”

Kinich laughs. “Now that I think about it, our gift exchange was unfair.”

“Stop that! I didn’t know what to get you!” you complain. “Your stupid mysterious aura made it hard to understand you better.”

Shaking his head, Kinich takes out the next item in the box which was a poorly made paper flower.

-

SECOND GIFT - PAPER FLOWER

The first few weeks of going out with Kinich was… awkward, to say the least. Yes, you’d had a major crush on him ever since you started university and had been friends with him since high school, but that didn’t mean you knew how to act around him (especially since you were now his significant other).

When he asked you out on a date - to which you agreed without a second thought - you had this tiny paper flower you had made in art class. It looked… good, but it wasn’t quite beautiful. You tried your best, really. You wanted to give Kinich a handmade flower you’d seen everyone make on TikTok, but it failed and now you had to give Kinich a poorly made rendition that looked like it got run over by a car.

When you walked out the door, Kinich was already waiting outside of your dorm lobby dressed in casual clothes (which honestly made him look even cuter). He noticed you slowly walking over to him and he smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, almost sounding breathless. The paper flower in your hand almost was crushed in your hands because of how nervous you were. “Um, I have something for you.” you hesitantly showed him the paper flower and Kinich blinked twice before taking it from you. “I know it looks ugly, but I swear I tried my best.”

You could see him stifling a laugh and you immediately frowned. “Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, it’s just-” Kinich tucked the flower safely in his pocket. “I love it, I promise.”

“You were laughing,” you pointed out.

“Because I find it cute,” Kinich replied. “You made a really pretty flower.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“I promise I’m not,” Kinich said, taking your hand in his. “Now, shall we get going with our date?”

-

PRESENT TIME

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you exclaim in disbelief. The paper flower still looked like the first time you gave it to him. “I thought you threw this away.”

“Why would I?” Kinich asks. “Both of these gifts from you are special and I’d like to keep them with me forever if I can help it.”

“So sappy,” you tease. The box still has a few items in it but you’re about to run late for the restaurant reservation Kinich booked for your date night. “Come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

Kinich hums. “Do you have a present for me tonight?” he teases, giving you a smile. “Perhaps another poorly made paper flower?”

“Keep that up and you’re having dinner alone,” you say sternly.

Kinich immediately stops talking.