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peachesofteal · 6 days

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Simple Math / Part Thirteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Nurse!reader. Domestic slice of life. Feelings of fear, self loathing, anxiety, dread. Complicated emotions. Verbal depiction of domestic violence. Non sexual intimacy. Scars from cigarette burns. Very brief daddy kink. Sick character (not reader). Comfort. Confessions.

The park is quiet.

You hoped it would be- middle of the day, in the middle of a work week, in the middle of the city. There are a few people around, walking, running, lingering. Enjoying themselves, the warmth of the sun on their face, a bright spot amid a typically grey winter.

It makes it easier. To look.

To watch.

To wait.

And you do. You wait, and you wait. You sit steady on the park bench, pretending to be remotely interested in the rough paperback cradled in your lap, spine already cracked flimsy by Simon’s grip. It’s Stephen King. Carrie, if you’re precise. A story of stolen girlhood and rage.

You swallow the shards of glass and acid the pages bring forth.

Deep breath.

The breeze gusts, and your shoulders nearly shake. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve sat out in the open like this.

Easy prey.

You may have always been easy prey. Easy and young and stupid, easy, and naïve and manipulated. You fell for every trick in the book. You didn’t see the signs until it was too late.

Still, you watch. You wait.

You considered, for a while, that if Philip was around, if he was in the city, looking for you- he’d arrive here. Like magic. Like a classic villain, materializing in a plume of smoke.

And while it’s not exactly comfort you feel as each minute ticks by and he fails to appear, there’s relief in your soul for certain.

It’s a risk, to sit here. A question. With an answer, for now.

Will he? Won’t he?

Today, the answer is he won’t.

Your phone vibrates, and you don’t need to look at it to know, guilt worming its way into the depths of your heart, anxiety piquing as you imagine both Simon and Johnny at their house, their home, worried.

Don’t fool yourself. Don’t give yourself too much credit. Don’t get carried away.

Someone clears their throat over the back of the bench, and you whirl.

“Hey, sorry.” Your pulse slows from a gallop to something slower, and you shake your head.

“You can’t sneak up on me like that.” The man shrugs his second apology, legs spreading into the spot next to you. You’re practiced at this, familiar. Knowledgeable enough to keep your hands from shaking, even though the tremor builds through your bones.

“Been waitin’ for you to call.”

“I’ve been busy.” You eye the black bag in his hands, a small black fabric pouch, gold zipper glinting in the sun. “That everything?” He nods.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

“Just seems strange, is all. Pretty, polished thing like you, needin’ all this. Most of my clients are more… rough around the edges.” Your teeth dig into your tongue. Already, this guy is less discreet and more obnoxious than your last purveyor. You wish you had hidden your face.

Like Simon.

“We’re solid, then?” You unzip the pouch, cursory eye roaming over the collection inside, checking off a mental list. Usually, you would feel relief at this point, but today, it sours and rots. Liberation burns into a roaring wave of uncertainty, and your fingers tighten over the zipper.

“We’re good.” He stands, giving you one last long look, and then his mouth shifts into a half smile. “Good luck.” Your polite nod is strained and forced. A nonverbal fuck off.

He takes the cue, and slinks away, disappearing around a corner and out of sight.

The bag weighs heavily in your hands. A terrible reminder of the truth.

You’ll never have a life. You’ll never have a family. You’ll always be alone.

You’ll never be pretty or polished or perfect.

You’ll always be this.

Scarred. Sectioned off. Scared.

Desperation wells, and you close your eyes. You see Johnny, and Simon. Their faces. Sunlight in bleak darkness.

Love and family and strength.

The ache in your chest widens. You want to be home, with them. Curled up, with them. Sitting at the table and eating dinner, with them. All these things, these domestic, familiar things that once seemed so unattainable, now within arm’s reach.

But still so far away.

Your shoulders relax a fraction, dipping lower, the strain on your injury zinging through your muscles as you roll them, and you shove the little bag into the backpack, above the clothes you pulled from your apartment.

Deep breath.

Johnny’s the first you see after locking the front door. He’s in the kitchen, half leaning on his crutch, fishing something out of a pot, a noodle of some kind, and he freezes, eyes heavy with relief, when you come around the corner.

“Bunny.” His good arm reaches, fingers brushing together, cold against warm. He coos. “Ye’re freezin’.”

“It’s cold.” You agree, unzipping the front of your jacket. He slides cautious and slow touch around your waist beneath it, and you go with him, face burrowing into his chest, just below his collarbone. Your nose is nearly smashed, but you can still breath him in, feel him, be in this moment with him.

His hold tightens. “What is it?”

“Sorry it took me so long.”

“That’s alright, was jus’ worried is all. Text us back next time.” You nod, but stay silent, still taking gulps of air, nosing against the collar of his shirt to find his skin. “Pretty girl,” his hand strokes over the back of your head, warm breath on your cheek. “Ye alright?” You breathe through the threat of tears, though they sting and threaten to sink you.

“Ye-yeah.” You choke, and he tries to pull back, grip steady on your upper arm, but you follow him, still trying to crawl inside and hide, wrap yourself up in him and disappear.

“Hey now,” he clucks his tongue, trying to re-focus you, trying to get your attention, nimble fingers cradling your jaw, “what is it?”

There are no words to explain it, these feelings. The fear. The dread. The bile rioting in your stomach, the anxiety churning like a turbulent sea. It’s like no matter what you do, it all comes back, no matter how deep you bury it or how much you try to change the tide.

It’s easier to lie.

“I’m tired.” You whisper, and he rubs your back.

“Did ye eat?” No.

“Yes. I got something at the hospital.”

“Paperwork all in order so ye can hang out wit’ us until ye’re better?” His smile is infectious, a mirror blooming across your own face, and he dots your nose with his lips. “There’s our girl.” Your toes curl. He tugs the backpack into his grip, and you let him, let him push you up into the counter, drop your bag to the floor, slip his tongue between his teeth. You let it all go to your head, let yourself get lost in him, twist your fingers in his hair, nipples pebbling stiff as his mouth finds the sensitive skin of your neck.

He takes it all away. Every time.

“Johnny.”

“I’ve got ye.” He finds an opening, a soft spot between your jeans and your shirt, hands roaming upward and over, everywhere. He’s everywhere, effortlessly, and you’re along for the ride, clinging so tight like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

And then-

It stops.

He’s holding your face, blue gaze unwavering, focused. “Bun, talk to me.” Your throat throbs, words sticking like taffy, clawing their way up in a jumbled mess until the only thing intelligible is what spills out.

“Is this real?” You’re a child. Small and scared, desperate for some sort of reassurance, some semblance of security.

“Is what real?” His fingers close over yours, lifting them to his lips. “This? Us?”

“Everything. All of it… I- I-“

“It’s real. It’s been real since ye held my hand the first time. Or at least, it’s been real for me… since then. Thought ye were an angel. An answer to a prayer.” He cracks a smile, thumb rubbing across the slope of your cheek. “An’ I’m not the praying type.”

“There’s… you don’t know me, Johnny. There’s so much… you don’t know.” Your chest heaves, anxiety stuttering inside your lungs, air turning thin in your mouth.

“I know, shhh. I know.” You press your face back into his chest, words slowing to a stop, a trickle. “Ye remind me of him, ye know. A lot prettier though.”

“Who?”

“Si.” He kisses your temple, your forehead, peeling away to peer at your face. “Guarded… but scared under it all. Ye dinnae even know how life can be, too busy runnin’ away.”

“Johnny-“

“Ye’ve got secrets, I know. But it’s the same thing I used to tell him. Eventually you’ve got to let go, let me in. Let us in, Bun. We’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not afraid. Let us prove it.” Your lower lip trembles, eyes burning with the brunt of tears. “Shhh, dinnae cry. Ye’re alright, everything’s going to be okay. I swear it.” You do nothing, nothing except stand there, half folded into him, breath and touch agonizingly slow, steady in his hold.

The two of you stay there, in the silence, until the agonized sear of distress starts to fade, and you begin to balance, ship righting itself after a long night in rocky seas.

Penny’s bedroom door is open.

The soft glow of a nightlight floats into the hall, and you peer past, finding Simon with his arms full, reclined in the rocking chair, a nearly asleep Penny gap mouthed in his arms. You wave.

“Hi,” he whispers, “get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, all set.” You nod to the baby. “She’s knocked.”

“Bath time was rough.” He traces her cheek, twirling a finger in her hair. A soft, faultless picture, his features delicately framed by shadow, thick arms the perfect place for a baby, an easy cradle.

It’s an intimate moment, and inside it, you feel out of place.

“I’ll see you downstairs?” You shift away, motioning, and he hums.

“In a few.”

Everything is slow with them in the evenings, you’ve realized.

They move leisurely, dancing around one another, Simon constantly watching and waiting, for both you and Johnny, anticipating. It’s a natural role, one that seems more permanent over necessary considering the circumstances, Johnny falling into an unhurried pace, languishing on the couch after dinner and dishes are done, fingers mindlessly stroking into the soft spot beneath your ear. Simon leans over, kissing Johnny and then settling at your side, an arm stretching around your back. “Should we watch something?” Johnny brightens.

“A movie?”

“If you’d like. Bun, any suggestions?” You blink. It’s a surprise, one that’s never occurred to you, the ability to simply choose a movie.

“Umm… no?”

“What’s yer favorite?”

“I don’t know. Whatever is fine. What do you guys like?”

“We know what we like. We want to know what you like.” What do you like? Comedies, you suppose. Something light and funny, something to distract the never-ending stream of thoughts cycling through your head.

“Uh, have you guys ever seen Forgetting Sarah Marshall?” Johnny chuckles.

“It’s been a while.” He flicks through the icons on the screen, thumbing over to where he starts to type it in. What if they don’t like it? What if they’re humoring you? What if you picked wrong? “Or, if you don’t like that, we can do something else. Anything. I’m not picky. It doesn’t have to be-“

“Hey,” Simon murmurs, warm palm resting on your knee, “that’s perfect. We both like that one.”

“Dracula musical.” Johnny smiles, finding it easily and clicking play. Your breath catches at the ease of it all, of picking a movie and that being that, no anxiety about a reaction or something triggering popping up on screen.

You can just… enjoy it.

The light in their bathroom is a little too bright.

Your toes stretch across the tile, nerves thrashing in the pit of your stomach as you stare in the mirror.

You don’t know who it is looking back at you.

You don’t recognize the girl getting ready for bed, brushing her teeth, wearing a pair of pajama pants and Simon’s shirt.

There’s a disconnect, some semblance of wires crossing, some phantom of someone else, living in your skin.

Because it can’t be you, getting ready to crawl into bed between them. It can’t be you, who fell asleep with her head on Simon’s stomach during the movie, can’t be you who stole a kiss from Johnny as Simon propped his leg up on the stack of pillows.

You’re playing house. Playing a game.

It won’t last.

It can’t.

You wrap a finger up in the hem of Simon’s shirt, frayed and torn edges pulling apart below the seam. It’s an old one, something he tugged out of a drawer and tossed on the bed, faded graphic turned from white to grey against a rusted black backdrop. It’s soft, and worn, and comfortable, an article of clothing well loved, and you wonder if Johnny’s worn it too. If it’s been passed around, washed, and dried a hundred times.

“Everything alright?” Simon leans into the bathroom, Johnny in view just past his shoulder. He’s not wearing a shirt, just soft, flannel pants, and you stare at the scars dotting his torso before dragging your gaze away.

“Yeah, sorry… I got distracted.” You turn the tap, rinsing your toothbrush before placing it by itself on the edge of the sink, out of place next to the cup holding theirs, and Penny’s.

You blink slow, allowing your eyes to close for a fraction of second.

“Ready for bed?” Johnny beams at you, lush and sleepy, hand outstretched, reaching.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Simon’s bedside lamp is still on, barely illuminating the dark. It’s quiet, and warm, and you bask in the space between their bodies, fingers playing idly with the hem of your shirt.

When Johnny’s fingers graze the skin under the fabric, your chest tightens. He strokes back and forth, over your navel, blazing heat from his palm tingling into your skin. You’re being torn in two, swallowed by the ocean, tugged in different directions.

You struggle to regulate your breathing, small draws coming in quicker, and Simon covers Johnny’s hand with his own, stopping the movement.

“Will you show us?” He murmurs.

“Sh-show you?”

“The scars.” Oh.

Will you?

Even though Simon’s already seen them, this feels different. This feels like a choice. Like you’re peeling something back, baring yourself.

You close your eyes and pull the bottom of your shirt to the top of your ribcage, cool air ghosting over your exposed skin. Johnny makes a sound, a twisted whisper of something pained, and you shiver.

A thumb slides over the raised skin on the left side of your belly. “These are from cigarettes?”

“Yes.” You almost want to look, want to see, but can’t bring yourself to do it, to witness their disgust, their shock. You’re hollow. Drifting. Falling away from them. Someone shifts, the bed moves, jostles slightly, but you block it out. Every muscle in your body is taut, jaw locked, and fists clenched.

This morning was intimate but this… this is something else. Something more.

“Can ye feel them, still? Do they hurt?” Two hands roam, rubbing gently, skimming.

“No but… they’re hideous.”

“No.” Simon croaks, voice thick. “There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t perfect.” Your heart cracks, and the light touch of fingertips disappears, replaced with a swath of breath and then-

Lips.

He’s kissing them.

It stops your heart, dries your mouth. Robs you of your breath, your head spinning into an enormous vortex of disbelief. Simon’s mouth travels, dotting your skin between each ugly, raised bump, carefully pressing a kiss to each one, gradually. He takes his time, and with your eyes closed, you can feel his body hovering above you, holding steady just over your frame. Johnny’s forehead rests against yours, and he cups your face, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek, sweet and slow.

“Will ye tell us… about how you got them? Who gave them to ye?” Simon cradles your hips, firm pressure folding into your skin, the curve there, and he squeezes, prompting you, expecting. You don’t know how he does it, how he’s so easily able to guide you, and Johnny. It’s seamless.

“I…” You don’t know what to say, if you were to say anything at all. How to answer. How to begin to explain. How to confirm what you know they already suspect, how to start this story. This nightmare.

Are you really doing this? Could you really do this?

There’s a sliver of sun, begging. Pleading. It rails against the cracks in your heart, desperate.

So, you spit out the only thing you know for sure.

“He liked to hurt me.”

“Who?” Simon’s question is immediate, and your ribs expand with a long breath.

“My… ex.” Stop talking. Stop this, stop it, stop- “He’s a monster.”

“The healed breaks on your x-rays…” He trails off, and you reach blindly, searching for an anchor. Johnny gives it to you, clutching your hand in his, thumb soothing over your knuckles.

“Yes.”

“And more.” Simon whispers, and Johnny draws a sharp breath. You nod.

“And more.”

“Your neck, and shoulder?” There’s a long silence, as you sit atop the wall. As you wait and try to decide if you want to jump off or continue to sit here… trapped at the top, teetering on the edge while they wait below.

You’re in their life now. You said you’d try. They should know.

You trust them.

Don’t you?

“He found me.” You confess, cracked and bleeding and hung out to dry. Three words barely scratching the surface of the truth, saying almost nothing at all and still so much. You stumble, and panic, fear bubbling up to the surface. “I’m sorry, I told you before- I said-“

“And we told ye; nothing is going to get ye while ye’re with us. Ye’re safe, bunny.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about!” you blurt, a near snap, and Johnny freezes. “It’s you guys, and Penny, and your friends, you- you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do, o-or where I go-” You’re rambling, nearly hyperventilating, and slipping away, succumbing to the rolling black clouds overtaking your mouth and mind, stuttering and falling, drowning in an endless darkness.

They don’t know. They don’t understand. They can’t.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re nothing.

You’re a child again. A lost girl. Alone and scared. Trapped in the dark.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” You shake your head, and Simon catches it between his palms, holding you still. You can fight and flail and run, but he’s still there. Strong and safe and beautiful in every way, a foundation of love, of trust. “It’s just us, we’re here. With you. Look.” Johnny tightens his hold, and your bones rattle inside your skin, aching and splintering, shredding you from the inside out.

“I can’t.” You hiss, trying to curl away. You can’t face them, or this. The reality. The truth.

It’s easier to run. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You should have already been gone.

But they won’t let you go. Not now. Not when they have you so close to the light. So close to the sun.

And maybe it’s time to accept it.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” Johnny murmurs. “Ye can do it.” The pull of his voice drags you closer, comforts you, and you long for him, long to see his blue eyes, overgrown mohawk and gorgeous smile. You long to relax into him, to hear the thump of his heart, steady and strong. He’s a lighthouse in the pitch-black night, a guiding light. It’s enough to lessen pressure building in the back of your skull, and you slowly blink, both of their concerned faces coming into view.

The three of you linger silence, holding each other, decompressing from your confession, your fear that feels too much sometimes. It all fades, night turning long, and eventually you yawn, blinking away the sleepy stars in your eyes.

“There’s our bunny.” Simon kisses your cheek. “My good girl.” My good girl. Turning it over in your mind makes you squirm, allowing it ricochet back and forth with his accent, and you wish you could latch onto it, memorize it, hear it every day. Johnny gives you a bemused smile.

“Ye liked that?” He raises an eyebrow at Simon, and then presses his lips to your ear, whispering. “Ye want to be a good girl for daddy, little bunny?” Daddy. You choke. You anticipate disgust, revulsion, but none of it comes.

Only… intrigue. Warmth.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Simon interrupts gently. “Thank you, sweetheart. For trusting us. I know it’s hard.” You turn into Johnny, and Simon rolls to flick out the light, pulling up tight behind you, sliding an arm under the pillows. You burrow deeper into the blankets, snuggling between them to find the warmest spots, and sigh.

“You both… make it easier. You make it easy.”

The world from yesterday is forgotten the next day when Penny wakes up with a fever.

The house is thrown into confined, regulated chaos, but chaos all the same. She wails almost the entirety of the morning, miserable, and you ache for both her, and her dads, who are unmoored and anxious. You don’t even balk when Simon asks you to hold her, explaining he has to call her pediatrician.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You coo, rubbing her back. She’s warm to the touch, but not scorching, and it gives you some comfort, even with what little you know about peds. You rock her, pacing, as Johnny watches uneasily from the couch, typing unending questions into a web search about babies and fevers. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel good.”

“It’s 38.1… that’s fine, right? As long as it’s under 39?”

“I think so.” You try to reassure him. “I’m not a little human nurse though, so I can’t be sure. But it hasn’t been that long, Johnny. We don’t need to worry until at least twenty-four hours.” He nods, lips quirking into a small smile. “What?”

“Ye said we.”

“Well… yeah…” you trail off, and he shakes his head.

“Jus’ like the sound of it, is all. Like how ye look, holdin’ our baby.” You give him a look, half exasperated, half doe eyed, as always, because you can’t help but feel a little lovestruck or dazed whenever you glance his way, always taken by him, no matter the moment.

Simon steps back inside from the patio, swooping to rub his nose in Johnny’s hair and squeeze his shoulder affectionately. “The pediatrician says if she gets worse, or doesn’t improve by tomorrow, to bring her in.”

“Good.” You bounce her, propping her up on your shoulder. “That’s good.” She gurgles, croaking through her miserable fever. “Poor baby girl, I’m sorry.” You pat her again, trying to help settle her-

She coughs, and something warm runs down your back.

“Shite.” Johnny curses, Simon immediately trying to pull her from your arms, but you shake your head.

“There’s no sense in her throwing up on you too.” You explain.

“I’ll go grab a towel, and some clothes. Do you want to change your shirt?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You keep your hand steady on her back. You’ll both need a thorough wipe down now, maybe even a shower.

“Sorry, bun.” Johnny frowns, but you reassure him, still rocking Penny in your arms.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve been through way worse with bodily fluids, trust me.” The bottom stair creaks, in the way that it only does for Simon, his mass too much for one of the wooden slats.

When you look up, you realize he’s not moving, only standing shock still, clothes and towel and a baby blanket in one hand,

and the contents of the little black bag in the other.

You left it on the dresser. You left it out in the open, unzipped, on the dresser.

Your blood freezes. Johnny frowns, looking between his partner and you, trying to desperately draw a conclusion that doesn’t come.

Simon holds the little navy-blue book up, the one with your picture in it, but with a name they won’t recognize. A person they wouldn’t know.

A person you don’t even know, yet. A new life. A new identity.

“What’s that?” Johnny’s quizzical, intrigued.

“Bunny.” Simon breathes, and you shake your head. It’s all you can do, just shake your head back and forth until your brain is rattling around in your skull.

You can’t stop it.

They’ll never love you. They won’t accept you. They won’t understand.

“It’s- it’s j-just in case,” you stammer, panicked and tongue tied. “you… you don’t understand, I have to have it… just in case.”

“What is it?” Johnny demands, and Simon flips the front of the booklet around-

revealing the cover of a brand-new American passport.

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #johnny mactavish x reader #ghost x reader

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marvelfilth · 2 months

Text

Her idiot

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your night out with Thor and Valkyrie leaves Natasha worried unimpressed.

Masterlist

“Nat-”

“No.”

“But-”

“But no.”

“Just let me-”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth promptly snaps shut, the sound of teeth clattering echoing through the empty Compound.

You're being dragged to Natasha’s room, or you hope you are - you wouldn't put it past Natasha to lock you in one of the holding cells in the basement. You kinda deserve it. You can admit that even in your current inebriated state.

She drags you upstairs once you reach the end of the hallway, your shoes squeaking on the concrete, making you grimace with each step you make.

You're also starting to get cold.

You're not stupid enough to tell her that.

Wanda's head pokes out of her room, her eyes bleary with sleep and her expression pure confusion. Her eyes grow twice their size once she sees the state you're in. And then she laughs, shaking her head.

“You're so dead,” she whispers when you pass by and ducks back into her room lest Natasha unleashes her wrath on her.

You gulp.

Yeah.

You probably are.

Natasha halts her stride, opens the door to her room, and pushes you inside.

“You better not get any of that on my carpet,” she growls, tugging off your drenched shirt.

You're thankful you've had enough of a mind to leave your heavy winter coat by the lake before you decide to-

“Off.” Natasha gestures at your feet, putting a stop to your musings. You shrug off your dirty boots, carefully leaving them by the door. As carefully as you can, that is. The room is spinning a bit, and Natasha's face is a little blurry around the edges.

Then, she tugs down your jeans, making you wince as the harsh wet fabric slides down your legs. She looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself.

You're starting to shake, a little bit. And your teeth won't stay put. Or is it your jaw?

Natasha sighs and leads you to the bathroom. It's already full of steam and the bath is full of bubbles, and you sag in relief, almost tearing off your underwear in haste to jump in.

You moan the second you sink into the warmth.

“You do know how stupid that was, right?”

You nod, wishing you could hide from her gaze.

“Then why?”

Your cheeks redden, not from the warmth, but from the sheer embarrassment. Now that you've sobered a little, none of the fun and entertaining ideas Thor and Valkyrie proposed sound fun and entertaining.

She sighs again, and starts gently threading her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots she finds there.

“You're not drinking with them ever again.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not going anywhere near that damned lake anytime soon.”

You wince at the memory of falling through the thin layer of ice after successfully making it halfway across the lake - just like Thor dared you to - and then swimming under said thin layer of ice the remaining half of the way and emerging on the other side, right in front or very angry and very concerned Natasha.

You're probably gonna-

“And you're sleeping on the couch.”

-sleep on the couch. Yep.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I am.”

She snorts. “It's very hard to stay mad when you're being so pliant.”

You bite on your lower lip, keeping a bashful grin from emerging. You decide to test your luck when the fond glint in your girlfriend's eyes intensifies.

“So no couch for me, then?”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing. “You can sleep on the floor if you'd like.”

No luck. Ugh.

“Okay. Couch it is.”

She hums, leaving your side to retrieve a warm fluffy tower. You get up, almost falling into Natasha's arms when you slip. She wraps the towel around your shoulders, holding you against her chest.

“I love you,” you mumble into the crook of her neck, your body buzzing with love, warmth and remnants of alcohol. “So much.”

“And I love you. Even when you're being an idiot, which is-”

“Always?” You interrupt with a grin, pulling away just a tad to see the expression on her face.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light, the lines of her face all soft. “Yes. Always.”

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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awearywritersworld · 10 months

Text

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure

gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.

you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.

he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"

you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"

"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"

"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.

you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.

~~~

some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.

when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.

"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.

"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.

after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"

there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"

your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.

"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.

rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.

you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."

"p-promise?"

"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.

gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.

gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.

~~~

the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.

you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.

he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.

your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.

gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.

he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.

he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.

~~~

leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.

you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.

crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.

"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."

gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.

"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?

"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"

he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.

he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"

god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.

i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.

"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."

#m!writes #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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ja3yun · 3 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything.

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did.

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever.

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.”

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off.

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?”

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.”

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move.

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?”

Park Sunghoon.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him.

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present.

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together.

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.”

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs.

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.”

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line.

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.”

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees.

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be.

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her.

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.”

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this.

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?”

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens.

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.”

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?”

He’s flabbergasted.

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you? You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.” It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates.

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all.

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face.

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins.

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide.

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!”

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.”

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.”

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon.

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?”

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty.

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy?

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?”

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.”

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind.

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.”

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes.

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory.

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.”

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.”

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy.

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins.

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?”

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?”

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.”

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.”

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you.

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis.

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise.

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him.

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?”

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?”

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over.

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you.

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“An avoider?”

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.”

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself, “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.”

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.”

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?”

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line.

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen.

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.”

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever.

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression.

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones.

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest.

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.”

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this.

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?”

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time." Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was.

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly.

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @ariadores @chwesuh-imnida

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha fluff #sunghoon x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months

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i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller

Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.

Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

amazing divider by @saradika

The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.

Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.

Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.

You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.

Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.

“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”

There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.

“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.

“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”

You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”

“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”

Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”

His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.

He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.

It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.

It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.

Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.

“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.

“Yes, Darlin’?”

“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”

You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.

“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.

“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”

“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”

“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”

“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”

She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.

“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”

“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

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Platonic Yandere Hazbin Hotel Concept (pt.1)

Hello, this is based on this post here. Hope you enjoy, also feel free to request for Hazbin Hotel if you want.

Also, fair warning for hints of bad parenting and descriptions of death.

edit: no one mention I spelt the name wrong, got it?

masterlist

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You weren't normal, you knew that from a young age. From when you fell out of a tree that you knew you shouldn't have been in, feeling the bones snap in your legs and your heart race. Even as a child, you knew you were doomed, watching as the sun slowly set, the stars grace the sky, and you alone as your breathing slowly stops.

You wake up in the hospital, days later, with your mom asleep beside you. Apparently your legs were fine and you passed out from shock. Your mom found you in your backyard hours later, cold and barely breathing. When you didn't wake up when the sun rose, your mom took you to the hospital, and now you're here.

You could barely hear you mothers lecture on the drive home as you sat in the back seat, thinking about the pain you swear you felt when you feel from that tree. Thinking about the snap you heard when your legs hit the ground. Thinking about the fear you felt when you remembered your mom wasn't home, and that no one was coming for you.

Things like that day would happen again and again. You'd cut your hand, bandage it, and the next morning you'd wake up with it completely gone. You'd eat something that your stomach and throat didn't agree with at all, only to be gifted with a beautiful breath of fresh air at the very last second. You'd once even got into your mom's wine when she was sleeping, feeling completely sick but too scared to tell her, only to wake up the next morning completely fine.

You weren't normal, you knew that from a young age. And when you were in your junior year of high school, you knew that the best. When you were walking home from school, it dark and cold in the winter night. You traveled along the road looking for any sign of your mom's car, but in the dark you couldn't see anything, not even the car swerving right towards you. The headlights were so bright that in those last few seconds, you felt warm. But then you were cold again, as you lay on the icy road, the blood left your body and you breathed your final breath.

You awoke in a strange and unfamiliar place, the lights bright but radiating no warmth. It was like the cities you see in movies, strange people and sounds everywhere. You were still recovering from the shock, your breathing quick and erratic. You tried to ignore the stares on you as you raced to find a place to hide. You could hear people scream at you, try to grab on to you, but you just keep moving.

Eventually you find a door, and despite your better judgement you went through it. As you slammed the door close behind you, you couldn't help realize that this place was much calmer. It was so strange, how instantly you felt like this place was so different. For a moment, all you did was stand and look around the room, noticing a bar, a fireplace, and a front desk. You've never been to a hotel before, but this is what you imagined it would look like, minus all the macabre imagery. You would've just remained there in the entrance if wasn't for some strange looking creature, pink with four arms, entering the room and giving you a strange look.

"Charlie? What the fuck is a human doing here" he yelled, and for a second you wanted to crawl into your skin. He was so tall, nearly blocking your view of the much more normal looking woman crashing in, looking just as confused as the man in front of you. Followed by her was yet another woman, who looked more angry than confused. The original woman, the one you assumed to be Charlie, carefully stepped up next to the strange, four armed creature.

"Uh--I don't know..." She mumbled, staring you up and down. You don't know what to do in the situation, what to say or even what to do.

"Where am I?" You whisper out. It felt like the first time you talked in hours, your throat sore a rough. "Why am I here?" you whisper again only slightly louder. You could feel their judging gazes on you.

"Sorry buddy, you're in hell." The pink one said, getting a side eye from Charlie. "Angel!" She yelled, clearly wanting him to shut up. He, Angel, shrugged, clearly loosing interest and walking away. Charlie could judge by the look on your face that you were clearly distressed, sweat deeding down your face while you stare into space.

"Hey, don't worry, we all have to die sometime." She attempts to comfort you, rubbing you back gently. You don't feel comforted though, you feel confused. You don't feel dead, more like your mind is in a different place, separate from your body. "You don't...look dead though." She wondered aloud.

"Charlie, what are we gonna do with them." The other woman said. She looked more intimidating than the others, her voice alone making you shiver slightly. "We can't just--keep a human here." She tried to whisper the last part, but you heard it clearly.

"Vaggie! We can't just abandon them!" Charlie exclaimed, grasping the other's shoulders tight. At this point you felt like more of a side thought. "Plus, if a humans down here, they're probably dead so..." Neither of them were good at being subtle were they. After whispering a bit to each other, Charlie took a deep breath and faced you. "Hi! My Names Charlie Morningstar! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!"

You introduced yourself, explained you situation, keeping out your suspicious history of not really being able to die. Maybe you were just really lucky, you thought, and that your luck just ran out. The Hotel wasn't that bad, and out of all the places you could spend you time, it was probably the best. You still couldn't get over the fact that you really didn't feel dead, almost like you were lost but couldn't remember where you trying to go in the first place. Everyone in hell looked so--unique was probably the best word, but you looked the same as the day you died. Charlie told you that it wasn't anything you should worry about, but it still made you stick out like a sore thumb.

Speaking of Charlie, she became a really great friend. She was very concerned with you fitting in with the others at the Hotel, even if it was a struggle. You mainly just sticked to yourself, since you didn't feel comfortable leaving the hotel. Every once in a while, you'd hang out at the bar, where you met the bartender Husk. He was nice, at least nice enough to make you alcohol free drinks, almost being able to sense your aversion to alcohol. Sometime you'd see Angel there, mainly after work. He never told you what he did for work, but you could assume, not like it was your place to judge him. You grew closer to Vaggie as you grew closer to Charlie. They cared about each other, it was very nice to see. It made the Hotel feel just a little bit warmer. You even got to meet the little housekeeper named Niffty, who was definitely a character.

Though you often have the feeling that you're missing someone. It wasn't until a few weeks into your stay at the Hotel that you actually got to meet Alastor. He was--creepy, and you couldn't get over the feeling that he knows too much about you. You don't miss the scared looks the others have then he's around, or the predatory gaze he gives you often. But you choose not to think about it, since other than his more than strange behavior, he's pretty kind.

Your stay at the Hazbin Hotel is overall, a nice one, though pretty reliant on you ignoring the whispering in the walls and the strange feeling that you're always being watched. Every day you're here, you feel your mind become more hazy, barely being able to pay attention, and if it wasn't for the others, you feel as though you'd loose yourself completely.

---

A/n: sorry for the abrupt ending, Tumblr couldn't handle my ramblings. I'll try to get part 2 out soon, which will focus more on the characters rather than lore. Sorry if this wasn't what you expected.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

First Time // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: At the beginning, you were simply four friends but how was it that you all became more than this?

A/N: This has been requested so many times so I hope everyone enjoys the reader’s first time with the Marauders!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, foursome, fluff, dom/sub undertones, loss of virginity (reader’s first time), first kiss, blindfolds, intense, multiple orgasms, creampie, vaginal fingering, discussion of masturbation, wanking, anxiety, friends to lovers, praise kink, size difference, overstimulation

Words: 7.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The four of you were inseparable. Had been since the very first day on the train to Hogwarts. It was by sheer accident that you’d stumbled into their compartment, a nervous, quiet girl with no idea where to go and before you’d even opened your mouth to ask if you could sit with them, James was standing with his hand held out, “Hi my names James Potter, what's yours?”

From the outside, it looked like an odd friendship, having always remained the quiet student at the back of the class compared to the famous troublemakers that were: James, Sirius and Remus, they almost took you under their wing.

All these years later, you were never seen without one of them by your side. With your timidness, they often liked to be perceived as your protectors, and even though your fellow Gryffindors often joked about it, that sort of friendship is one you craved, needing to feel safe. It also didn’t help that they were undeniably handsome, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hide your attraction to them.

This added to the fact that due to the nature of your close relationship, they tended to be more affectionate with you than anyone else that had you hiding smiles, cheeks warm to the touch and heart beating firmer in your chest. Especially recently, the Marauders tended to keep one hand on your person at all times whether it’s casually holding your hand, resting one of your thighs in class or slinging an arm over your shoulder, it almost felt natural to be close to them at all times.

On this particular day, a group of Gryffindors were in the Hog's head, squished into a booth, drinking butter beer and laughing at Frank's attempt of convincing the bartender to serve him some fire whiskey. Taking another sip of the sugary goodness that was butter beer, the hand resting against your thigh squeezed slightly, making you look in the direction of the owner but Sirius was still shouting something to Frank at the bar.

The touch was always intimate, almost as intimate as the army casually thrown across your back, pulling you into the warmth of James as he chuckled into his own drink. You felt safe and happy squished between them both, glancing almost on instinct to the third who happened to be smiling at you from across the table. Remus’s gaze had your eyes dropping to a stare at a spot on the table to stop from grinning.

“It’s getting late and I think it’s still snowing, should we head back to the castle?” Marlene asked the group, the majority of which agreed, finishing their drinks and beginning to pile on the layers of clothing to face the winter weather.

When neither of the Marauders moved, you glanced up at James who was looking steadily at Remus for a moment before addressing his friends. “I’m not quite sure we’re ready to head back just yet, we’ll catch you later”.

“Don’t leave it too long guys with this weather, you know what she’s like on the icey path”, Marlene jokingly teased as she nodded in your direction. Your only response was a deadpan look in her direction, you weren’t that much of a liability, having only fallen over once and even then, Remus had caught you before colliding with the floor.

“Oh you know us, we wouldn’t let anything happen to her”, Sirius responded with his own smile, once again squeezing your thigh, his thumb stroking idle circles into the skin. Lifting the glass to your mouth to hide your giddy smile, you caught Lily’s eye as she reflected the smile you were hiding. Lily had known about your feelings for the boys, in fact, you were sure everyone knew but Lily was the only one you trusted to run to where you could discuss it in detail.

The group eventually left the four of you, and James was quick to buy another round of drinks for you all. Sirius's body shifted closer to yours, his lips hovering next to your ear as he asked, “So what would you like to do? Do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?” It was an innocent question but the way his eyes dropped to your lips, your heart fluttered faster behind your ribcage.

“I’ll do anything you guys want to do”.

“Oh, are you sure about that?” Sirius teased, his hand slide an inch higher on your thighs.

Knocking your shoulder against his, you playfully responded, “Stop teasing me, Sirius”.

James returned with the drinks, his arm returning to your shoulders as they began to contemplate possible places to visit. The shops had closed now so there were only a few places left such as a different pub but it was Remus who suggested; “why don’t we take her to our special space?”

Looking between the three Marauders, eyebrows knitting together, you had no idea where they were referring to, even more, confused as both James and Sirius agreed that was a good place to visit.

“How mysterious”, you quipped, drinking more of the butter beer, enjoying the slight buzz it was giving you, leaning further into James’ warmth, feeling completely relaxed. James smiled down at you, not that you could see from where you were smiling at Remus across the table as he tapped his foot against yours under the table.

There was only an hour left of daylight when the four of you finished your beverages and began to wrap up in hats, gloves and scarves, Sirius even helping you to zip up your coat before gripping your hips and steering you towards the exit. The hold was possessive but you didn’t mind.

It was ice cold outside, your cheeks burning from the bitter wind but luckily Remus was right there, offering his arm for you to huddle into. The tallest Marauder always ran oddly warm but you knew it was due to his furry little problem, of which he had confessed to you many years ago.

You weren’t paying much attention as to where they were taking you until the barbed wire fence was in your eyesight and you stopped in the middle of the path.

“I’m not going in there are you mad?”, your eyes were wide as you looked at the shrieking shack, the decrepit building swaying with the bitter winds.

“You aren’t scared are you?” Sirius mocked, stepping closer which caused you to lean further into Remus’ body. James joined in as well until they were all crowding around your frame, all three of them were much taller than you, which only meant that was something else that they could tease you for.

“Don’t be scared, we’ll protect you.”

“The ghouls and ghosts won’t get you with your handsome knights to protect you.”

Remus lightly shoved James and Sirius away at their joking which only made them laugh but you weren’t concentrating on that as you had realised that as you’d been leaning into Remus’ body, your hand had reached behind and was squeezing his thigh in fear.

Your body warmed with embarrassment, quickly letting go whilst ignoring just how muscular it felt and apologising to the scarred Marauder but he only smiled down endearingly at you, taking your smaller hand in his.

“It’s not haunted, don’t listen to these idiots. This is where I come for my monthly visits”. This made you feel a little more relieved but it was still slightly terrifying as you all approached the building, making sure no one was around to see you all casually walking into the most haunted building in the UK.

The inside wasn’t as ghastly compared to the exterior, it was still rickety but clearly, from the boys’ regular visits, it was decorated nicely, even having a room with a lovely four-post bed, decorated with red silk sheets and three high back chairs surrounding a fire that Sirius swiftly lit with his wand.

“It’s cute!” you admit, looking at the bed before standing in front of the fire, beginning to take off your outside wear as the room began to heat.

As the sun began to set outside, the four of you relaxed in the room, Sirius sitting on the floor in front of the fire with the remaining three including you in the chairs. “Shall we check the map? I’d put 5 galleons on Alice and Frank being in a classroom somewhere”, James predicted, reaching into his back pocket and revealing the Marauders map, waving his wand and muttering the line and watching mesmerised as the map came to life.

This was one of the best things the group had created, spending hours and hours spying on students without leaving the comfort of your chair and it had revealed many people’s relationships.

“Ah, there I knew it!” James announced, pointing on the map to where Alice and Frank's name labels were hovering suspiciously close in an empty classroom. “Of course, it’s in that specific classroom as well, I’m pretty sure everyone in our years snogged in that room.”

A giggle spilt from your mouth, “not everyone James”, you admitted casually, looking at the other names on the map to see if there was any more gossip to reveal, not knowing the dumbstruck expression from the men surrounding you.

“What? I thought you had a little thing with Cresswell?” Remus asked perplexed.

“What, no! I’ve never even kissed anyone else, let alone be alone with him, ew-”

“What did you say?” Sirius asked, cutting you off on your disgusted tangent. You now realised just how much you had let slip. It wasn’t like you had been going out of your way not to be kissed, in fact, you rather liked the thought of being intimate with someone else but the opportunity had never come your way.

“I mean, yeah I’ve never kissed anyone before but it’s fine, I don’t mind”, it was a small white lie but you just wanted the conversation to move on.

“But… how?!” James asked, moving slightly closer to you.

“Well, how can anyone get close enough to me to kiss me when you’re always around? I mean do you remember when Lockhart tried to ask me to Slughorn’s Christmas ball? You just about traumatised the poor guy”.

James smirked at the memory, “If I do recall correctly, you didn’t want to go with him anyway”.

“That’s not the point I’m trying to make, I’ve just not had the opportunity and anyway, it’s fine! Can we please stop talking about it, this is embarrassing”.

The Marauders wanted to do anything but move on from this conversation, Remus decided to speak next, his voice low as he asked: “Would you like to kiss someone?”

Your eyes widened slightly, immediately looking into his, mouth feeling suddenly dry, your body feeling too warm as Sirius continued the questioning front the floor, “I mean if you’re going to kiss someone, it might as well be with someone you trust… right?”

Your automatic response was to laugh, not being able to hide the anxiety laced in your voice, moving subtly to sit on your hands to hide the gentle tremble. “Well, now there’s loads of pressure! What if I’m a bad kisser and then you never talk to me again? And who am I supposed to pick? And-”

“Honey, stop freaking out, it’s not supposed to give you anxiety, it’s a nice thing”, James tried to reason with you, his hand reaching across from where he sat to gently brush down your arm before his eyes lit up with an idea. “How about - if you still want to -, we make this easier for you?”

James took out his wand from his pocket, pointing it at one of his gloves that lay over the arm of his chair, and in a split second, the material had changed into a long cloth. Picking it up, he held it out to you, “What if you can’t see who kisses you, then you don’t have to worry about the anxiety of picking and if you don’t like it we can stop and act as if nothing has happened and you won’t even be able to tell who you’d kissed?”

You stared at the cloth in his hand, realising it was meant to be used for a blindfold. There was nothing that you wanted more than to say yes and before even contemplating the realities of the situation, you were agreeing to his proposition.

One moment you were sitting in your chair, and the next you were in the centre of the room, nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other, your sight completely masked by the cloth now tied around your head.

“Relax darling”, Sirius spoke next to your ear. His request was easier said than done as you could hear the three of them walking around you in a circle, so you couldn’t tell who was about to kiss you, losing track the further they walked as to where it sounded like Sirius had even been stood.

Your hands were shaking even more at your sides, mentally you tried to remember to breathe. But this was such a weird situation to be in, your limbs didn’t even feel like they were a part of your body now, where were you supposed to do with your arms? And your lips, should you purse your lips in preparation? Should you have brushed your teeth?

A single finger slides under your chin, stopping any thought from spiralling through your mind. With ease, your head was tipped back, almost impossibly far from how your neck ached, forgetting just how much taller the boys were than you. The sweet butterbeer breath then fanned across the skin of your face and also gave nothing away as you all had been drinking it.

Then a pair of lips were touching yours. Delicately. Tentatively. Almost as if they were scared that you were going to break, so soft that your initial reaction wasn’t too tense like you’d expect it to be, but instead your shoulders dropped slightly with ease. Whoever it was were more than careful and you were truly unable to identify just who it was.

And then they were gone, leaving your head tilted back, mind ablaze with wanting and needing them to come back.

Having heard your thoughts, a warm hand glided across your jaw, holding the position of your head as lips were suddenly pressing against yours once more with a much more intense pressure. The lips were full, slightly moist from where the Marauder had licked them before leaning in. Your nose pressed into his cheek which meant that you could move past the smell of the butter beer and his natural scent filled your sense giving you the identification of whom you were kissing.

Not that you needed to as Sirius’ long hair brushed across your face. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that you were sure that he could hear it but it didn’t stop him from holding you close.

It felt almost normal, natural even as your best friend pushed his lips harder against yours for a second before pulling back. You were confused by the loss of his lips but he was only tilting his head and then he was kissing you again with more passion. On instinct, you sighed into the touch, your body feeling like it was melting into the floor as Sirius moved his lips steadily against yours, giving you time to accustomed to the movements of kissing before he was backing off.

In the far reaches of your mind, you were having an absolute meltdown, screaming into your consciousness that you were actually kissing your best friends. The Marauders, your childhood friends were actually kissing you.

Another person was stepping into your personal bubble, hand once again on your jaw, cradling your head and another hand slid to your hip, pulling your body flush against a much firmer one. Then you were being kissed again, head tilted at the same angle that Sirius had held you in but with a little bit of practice, you leaned further into the embrace, hand lifting to rest against James’ chest, knowing it was him from the lingering musky cologne that was on his skin and only he had these specific toned hard body from his Quidditch practice.

A small moan escaped you, lost completely in the time and it was like sweet music to James as he smiled against your mouth but just like Sirius, just as you were starting to get into it, he stepped back leaving you feeling cold and lonely.

Instinctinyl your body tried to follow after him but he was already out of your grasp, their footsteps could still be heard, even if you couldn’t see a single thing through the blindfold. It was highly disorientating, almost felt dizzy but that was also mostly from the breathless kisses. As the three men continued to talk in circles around you, your tongue darted out and moistened your lips and you had to hold back a groan at being able to taste something that wasn’t you, realising it was a mixture of Sirius and James' mouths.

As you took a deep breath to try and gather more courage a body was once more in front of yours, tilting your chin further and further until Remus could lean in and capture your lips.

Remus absolutely devoured your mouth. Holding you close so he could press you closer, his tongue teasing against your lips, begging for you to respond to him which you did, opening and letting his tongue dance with yours. Raising onto your tip toes to try and reach more of him, needing more, already as addicted to his taste as you were to the other two, needing his warmth.

You could have cried with happiness as he didn’t step back immediately as his lips left yours. Instead, they made their own path down your neck, tasting your skin, finding the areas that had your knees wobbling and breath catching in your throat.

But of course, this would not last as he was gone again but thankfully the wait wasn’t long as a different set of lips were replacing Remus’, this time exploring your jaw, spending time to tease beneath your ear where you hadn’t realised you were so sensitive until a shiver passed through you.

Your hands found their way into the shirt of the man now gently nibbling your ear, the press of his glasses against your cheek, you knew it was James who had returned. With nothing covering your mouth, there was nothing to hold back the mewls and whimpers, especially as James moved lower, teeth grazing over your pulse mouth. His wicked mouth was sending you into a needy puddle.

“Please…”. You weren’t entirely sure what you were pleading for but Sirius answered by sliding his body behind yours, his hands resting comfortably against your hips, dipping his head to the opposite side of your neck to James.

“What do you want sweetheart?”

“I don’t know…”, you internally cursed yourself with just how desperate you sounded. It wasn’t that there was anything specifically that you were wanting, just knowing you needed everything.

Having already kissed all three of them, which was a big deal in itself, but the dampening between your legs was desperately screaming to be touched, and you wanted to touch them, even if you weren’t sure what to do.

“I can see you thinking too much, just breath Baby, relax into our touch, let us make you feel good.”

Your mind seemed to disappear of all thoughts, the only sensation was the burning of your skin with every nibble and lick that they doing to your body. However, your anxiety was always there just to bubble to the surface, your body tensing slightly as you stuttered.

“But…But I-”.

James stopped kissing your neck, all three of them pausing feeling the tension as you began to panic. Sirius ran a warm hand up your clothed back in soothing circled as you struggled to think of the words you were desperate to say.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do love. We can stop if it’s getting too much for you”, Sirius continued to try and soothe you.

“I don’t want to stop”, you finally were able to choke out, something that you truly meant. “I just-”, biting your lip contemplating the words, slightly embarrassed but a rough fingertip eased your lip from between your teeth.

“Talk to us,” it was Remus now speaking from somewhere to your right, but you couldn’t feel him other than the finger and thumb on your chin.

“I don’t know what I’m doing”, you admitted finally.

To be honest, you’d expected them to laugh however when they didn’t, your body seemed to relax, especially realising that they were all now stroking a part of your body to try and help to calm you down.

“We don’t expect you to know what you are doing love. We want you to experience these things, to make you feel good. Just let us take care of you. Do you want the blindfold off?” Remus asked.

You shook your head with a response of now. Even though you could tell who was kissing you now, the thought of actually looking them in the eye was too real. They were your best friends, and they were making you feel good so in your blissful ignorance of having a blindfold on, you didn’t have to look them in the eye at least.

“Do you want to continue?” James asked from in front, his lips grazing your temple in a comforting way.

“Yes”.

“Will you tell us to stop if you become too uncomfortable?”

“Yes”.

No one moved for a moment, almost having a silent conversation between the three of them before James was tilting your head back from where it was leaning on Sirius’ chest. You’d expected him to kiss you but his lips moved lower, lips pursed blowing cool air against your burning skin. His hand which was slightly rough from the calloused from training on his broom, inched down your neck, following the sensual air that he was blowing until he teased the material of your shirt.

Your chest was rising and falling dramatically, desperately sucking in air as you didn’t stop his fingers as he began to unbutton your shirt, slowly, one at a time, making sure to stroke the exposed skin until reaching the top of your breasts did he stop.

However, he only stopped so that he could push the material away from your shoulder, moving to kiss the skin there, the sensations once again new. However, Remus didn’t give you time to gasp as he tilted your face in the direction that he was facing, kissing you breathlessly and hungrily.

Sirius still stood behind you, pulling your body into his enough that if you weren’t being distracted by the other two, you’d noticed the throbbing lump in his trousers. Instinctively you were leaning into him more, savouring his warmth. Sirius’ hands began to curve around your waist, teasing along the hem of your shirt, dipping beneath to brush against your bare skin. Your hips rolled as his fingers ticked slightly but you already knew you’d be craving to feel his fingers on your skin in the future, loving the sensation of someone actually touching you in an area that had been unexplored before.

The long-haired Marauder began to unbutton your shirt from the bottom, slowly grazing over your navel until there was only one single button holding your shirt together in between your breasts.

Remus pulled back to peek down at your body, sucking in a breath as his eyes darkened, watching Sirius unbutton the last one with a simple flick of his fingers, exposing your front. Your shirt floated open to reveal the laced bra covering your breasts, but your perked nipples were still visible through the thin material.

“So fucking pretty”, James complimented as he pushed the offending material off your shoulders and onto the floor and stared down at your chest like the other two men. You were already flushing at the compliment and would have probably combusted if you could see the hungry gaze of the Marauders looking at your body.

James couldn’t wait anymore as his large hand cupped your breast and his tongue licked your nipple through the lace. “Ah!” your back arched into the touch, fingers desperately gripping into his messy hair, holding him there. Even though his tongue was warm and soft, the sensation it caused was like hot fire straight to your core, like a bolt that had your thighs rubbing together to try and ease some of the tension that was catapulting through you.

It felt so good that you were begging for more with a desperate plea as James moved to the other breast. Sirius was going absolutely feral for your moans, having wanted to hear them for so long but he needed to keep his calm, instead moving to inch his hand up your naked spine, finding the clasp of your bra and with a single kiss to the back of your head, undid the bra.

The thin straps fell from your shoulders and you had to momentarily release the grip on James’ hair to allow the material to fall completely from your body and onto the floor. Without even a second to process the venerable state that you were in, being topless around another person for the first time, James and Remus moved with sync and began to worship your breasts.

Each nipple was sucked into the warm mouth, teeth teasing the tip before being comforted by a stroke of a tongue, hands squeezing the rest of the flesh of your breasts, absolutely taking your breath away. Each movement had your body rock and underwear continuing to dampen.

Your head flew back against Sirius’ chest, glad that he was there to support you, feeling unsteady.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful” Sirius’ voice was rasping as he whispered into your ear. With gentle hands, he tilted your head back so that he could kiss you passionately, almost dizzy with lust, forgetting to breathe as his tongue stroked yours. Sensing your unsteadiness, Sirius pulled back, much to your distaste as you groaned in want. “Remember to breath”, he reminded you.

Remus pulled off your nipple with an audible ‘pop’, looking up into your face to make sure that you did as instructed, smiling as you gasped for a couple of breaths. Once again your knees felt unsteady with holding up your body as James gave a significant suck to your nipple.

“Let’s move onto a more sturdy surface”, Remus suggested but you were hardly even listening with the euphoria you were experiencing, feeling completely alive and blazing. However as you were moved by the three men, it was even more disorientating, not knowing where you even were in the room anymore until you were being eased down onto the soft, silky bed.

Shifting until you could feel the divots of the pillow in the centre of the bed, it dawned on you just how exposed and intimate it was with the position that you were in. Especially as you weren’t joined immediately, knowing they were looking at you lying and waiting on the bed for them.

Eventually, one of them climbed onto the bed and you could feel it dip by your feet as whoever it was inched between your legs, crawling your body until they were able to kiss up your sternum. Moaning as whoever was touching your body, grazed the edge of your trousers, teasing for them to be undone.

Then the bed was shifting again as someone else climbed onto it, picking up one of your hands, kissing your palm, and making his way up your forearm. The lips tickled the skin as they made their own journey towards your mouth before you were devoured by Sirius, his taste exploding against your tongue as he released his own groan that caused your hips to roll against Remus, hinting for him to carry on with his plan.

Slowly, your trouser button and zipper were undone to allow him to begin pulling them down your legs. Remus was quick to kiss the newly exposed skin down your legs, whispering “beautiful” between pecks.

“You’ll tell us to stop if it’s too much…?” James asked from across the bed, he’d been watching his friends devour you, trying to memorise the sight before him, knowing they were approaching a place that they could not return from.

“Don’t stop,” you say breathlessly as Sirius had moved away for you to answer the question. Remus grinned against your leg, hooking his fingers into your underwear, dragging the material down your naked legs and at the same time, James began leaning down to kiss your breasts again, making sure to keep your arousal high as he ran the rips of his fingers over the curves of your hips, hitting a particulary sensitive spot on the inside.

Sirius wanted to kiss you again, seeing you completely naked on the bed but he also wanted to see your reaction to being touched for the first time so he waited, even though you were half covered by the blindfold, he watched your mouth as Remus made the first move between your legs.

With his scarred hand he began by brushing a hand over your mound, tickling the skin, as he used his other hand to open your legs up further, giving him a better view as his thumb finally stroked your clit.

“Oh Merlin”, you cried out, back arching which only pushed your breast further into James’ mouth. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, someone was actually touching your pussy.

Remus didn’t want to completely overwhelm you so made sure to keep his mouth nibbling along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, watching how your body reacted to all of the delicate touches. His thumb rolled your clit slowly in circles, matching the way you were rolling your hips.

“Have you ever touched yourself here?” Remus asked with a sly smirk plastered across your face, no that you could see it. Sirius was still watching you just as intensely as Remus as he gripped your jaw tenderly, holding you there.

“Yes”.

James smiled around your puffy nipple, groaning at the thought.

“How do you touch yourself?” Remus continued his questioning.

Thankful for the blindfold, even though you were slightly embarrassed at least you weren’t having to look at them as you answered. “I…I touch myself where you’re touching”, referring to your bundle of nerves.

Remus pressed a fraction harder, drawing a moan from you. “What, here?”

“Yes”.

“Where else?”

“I … sometimes put a finger inside of me”, actually saying these words to him, your best friend was thrilling, especially as with each answer you gave, one of the three men would moan deeply.

“Just one finger?”

“Two”, you answered honestly.

“Good girl”, Sirius says to your honesty, his thumb brushing your jaw in a calming way. The praise he uttered was almost like a lightbulb moment which Remus noticed instantly as your hole suddenly clenched in arousal.

“What else do you do?” Remus continued to ask, wanting to know every single detail of your masturbation.

You were so lost in your arousal that you began talking without thinking, breathing heavily now with your mouth gaping open. “I… hump my pillow and think about this”.

This confession seemed to stop them in confusion, groaning as Remus had stopped his motions.

“What do you mean by ‘this’, love?”, James asked from your chest. You wanted to escape and tried to hide your face in the bed but Sirius’ grip held strong and then he tutted, understanding just what you meant.

“By this… did you mean us? Do you think about us when you’re touching yourself?”

“Yes”, you admitted, past the point of caring now.

“Fuck”, one of them cursed.

“Want to know something?” Sirius continued, “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve pumped my cock with you in mind. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long.”

Remus didn’t give you time to respond as he teased your entrance with his finger, his thumb continuing to tease your favourite spot. Your hips were still rolling desperate to feel more and he took that as his sign to finally breach your walls.

“Fuck, you’re so wet”, Remus groaned as he pushed his finger inside of your cunt. It was a sensation you weren’t entirely sure how to explain, it was so different to your smaller fingers but all you knew was that you wanted more as he began to slowly pull out to push back in.

Sirius and James stopped to watch how you reacted, finding it the most beautiful sight as you breathed greedily, hands clenching the sheets harshly, thighs shaking from having to keep them open, wanting nothing more than to slam them shut and ride his hand much like you’d imagined with your pillow all of those times.

As Remus added another finger to your eagerly awaiting cunt, James and Sirius swapped positions. Sirius teased and played with your breasts and kissed along your sternum as James moved between leaving open-mouth kisses along your throat, to absorbing your moans with his own mouth.

Remus was careful not to hurt you, knowing this was the first time you’d had anything the size of his fingers in there, making sure that you were wet enough and relaxed before curling his fingers and pressing more firmly in swipes across your bundle of nerves.

It was an instant reaction, to reach for that pleasure as you released the grip on the bed to try and grab Remus but instead held onto James and Sirius's heads, using them as momentum to ride the fingers inside of you.

The sensation swarmed you quickly, the coil in your abdomen almost overwhelmingly tight as you called out into Sirius’ mouth, the orgasm taking your breath away completely, legs dropping down onto the bed.

All the whilst, Remus was praising you, “That’s a good girl, you’re doing so well”. It was unlike anything you’d been able to give to yourself and it took a moment to catch your breath as the three of them waited patiently. Your entire body felt relaxed in the after-orgasmic glow.

“What do you want to do sweetheart? Do you want to stop?” Sirius asked as he tenderly kissed your cheek, something you leaned into.

“No, I want to keep going but… I don’t think-, I mean, all three of you, I don’t-”.

“Shh”, Sirius cut off your words with a swipe of his thumb against your lips. “Not all three of us, not with your first time darling. We have all the time in the world for more”. Your heart pounded at the possibility that this wasn’t a one-time thing but then another mouth next to your other ear had you drifting back to the moment as he kissed along the shell of your ear.

“It’ll just be me today my love, how does that sound? I’ll look after you…”

You nodded your head, wanting him desperately, not that it mattered which of the three it was, this was actually happening, your arousal spiking once more as you turned your head towards James to try and kiss him which he gladly reciprocated.

But all too quickly he was leaning away from you, leaving that side of your body cold and empty. “You’ll tell me to stop if you need me to, won’t you?” James asked from somewhere further than on the bed as he began to strip off his clothes, not that you could see.

“Yes”, you verbally say rather than nodding your head, hand reaching out to touch one of them, smiling when Sirius’ lips nipped the tips of your fingers, nuzzling into your palm as you rested it against his cheek.

Remus also moved on the bed, climbing over your body to move his lips against yours, distracting you completely from the situation but then as James’ hands began trailing over your legs, parting them and giving him room did it dawn on you again that you were actually about to lose your virginity.

Remus and Sirius seemed to move away now leaving you and James in the middle of the bed. “Do you want to keep this on?” James asked, poking the material tied around your head.

Contemplating for a moment - even though all of this foreplay had been fun with the blindfold and it had helped with your anxiety, your virginity could only be taken once and you wanted to fully be in the moment so steadily, you removed the cloth from covering your eyes.

It took a moment of squinting your eyes to adjust properly to the light in the room that mostly came from the fire at the other end of the room. What you’d anticipated were regret and fear but as James gazed down at you with his soft brown, wide eyes, and glasses fixed on his face all you felt was safe in his arms.

Even as you caught sight of Remus and Sirius to the sides, their hands moving up and down their shafts as they chased their own highs watching the two of you, it didn’t feel embarrassing, it felt right. There was no one you trusted more in the world than these three and even in this vulnerable state, you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

“Hi,” you said timidly up at him, a smile spreading across his handsome face in response. James lowered his body over yours, almost cocooning and moulding the two of you together and his natural body heat helped to keep you relaxed as his nose bumped yours.

“It’s just us, love”, he whispered against your lips before kissing you, tongue dancing with your own making you moan at the taste of him. Your legs moved on their own accord, wrapping around his hips, ankles locking together, almost pulling him closer until you felt his noticeable length graze your thigh.

Trying not to lose your cool, your hands landed on his shoulders, feeling the toned muscles beneath before cupping his jaw as he pulled back. James watched your face closely, wanting to see every emotion that you had as his hand disappeared between your bodies to align his cock with your cunt.

Similarly to Remus, James was very aware that this was your first time and was very aware that this could potentially hurt so he moved slowly, his tip gradually breaching your hole.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open as you looked down to where your bodies were now joined. It was intense the further he moved, it wasn’t horrifically painful but still stung as you stretched to a size you’d definitely never had before. James stopped at one point, not fully penetrating in but just giving your body to adjust as he finally dipped his head to kiss your swollen lips, distracting you from the discomfort.

The Marauder waited for you to nod your head to continue moving and after a few more small thrusts, your cunt had accustomed to his size, even beginning to move your hips with his. His cock felt so incredibly deep inside of you, each fuck in and out was hitting every single spot that you craved to be touched.

James groaned at how tight you felt, almost suffocating his cock, it was unbelievably good, seeing how you looked underneath him, your eyes glazed, mouth open in a constant string of moans.

You were so lost in the emotions and pleasure that you couldn’t even speak and warn that you were about to cum but James could tell by the tightening of your cunt. “Cum for me sweetheart, fuck you feel so good”, James encouraged.

He held intense eye contact, mouths brushing each other but not fully kissing, just remaining close so you came hard once more, thighs squeezing his hips harshly.

“Wait, ahh-” you cry out, needing James to pause with how sensitive you were feeling and James had to hide his face into your neck from not cumming with how tightly your cunt was convulsing around his cock. It took a few minutes of deep breathing and James’ hands massaging over your body to calm enough before rolling your hips, signalling for James to continue.

As he began to thrust back into you, the messy-haired man sat back on his knees, pushing both of your legs up to your chest which was when Sirius and Remus moved back over to the bed and you were thankful for this, almost like they could read your mind as you were about to moan for them.

In this position, it gave Sirius the perfect opportunity to circle your clit with his fingers in time with James' thrusts. You were crying out again, throat beginning to feel raw with how much you’d been moaning but you also never wanted it to end, it just felt so good.

Remus casually sat next to you, his hand continuing to pump his impressively sized cock, and he smirked as he caught you looking at it with wide eyes, not understanding how that would ever fit in you.

You wanted desperately to kiss Remus but he simply held your jaw so that you had to watch him touching himself as he watched you getting fucked by his best friend.

James' moans increased in sound as his cock throbbed inside of you, desperately close to reaching his own climax.

“Is he making you feel good?” Remus asked, looking down your body at where Sirius was touching you.

“Yes, he feels so good, I think I’m going to cum again”, you admitted between moans, Sirius’ fingers moving with more pressure as he heard how close you were.

“Good, I want you to cum before Prongs does”, Remus’s dominant tone had you heating with even more arousal if that was even possible. His intense stare, the hold on your jaw, the guarantee of feeling safe, there was no way you weren’t going to cum that very moment.

Chanting ‘yes’ with each thrust, you came, eyes having to close to try and remain in control and this was all James needed to release his cum deep within your cunt, groaning needing at how fucking good you felt. You felt almost close to tears with the stimulation you’d experienced, your body reeling from the multiple orgasms but also aching from being licked, stroked and fucked, it was a little overwhelming now.

James eased his cock out of your hole causing you to wince slightly as the euphoric feelings began to fade away, you still felt good but needed a good rest. The brown-eyed boy smiled apologetically down at you, gently kissing your cheek before climbing off of the bed to retrieve his wand from his discarded trouser pockets.

Just as you were able to ask for a tissue to clean up in between your legs, James waved his wand and the mess that was a mixture of yours and his juices disappeared.

“Thank you”, your voice was quiet, thick with exhaustion as you dropped your head onto the bed. Sirius was soon crawling next to you, his body quickly wrapping around yours, causing you to turn on to your side, his face nuzzling into your neck.

What was going to happen now? Would they even want to still be your friend? Would you all wake up tomorrow and regret what had happened? You knew for sure that you didn’t regret anything only worried for the repercussions.

A flick to the tip of your nose had you glancing up at Remus as he too lay on the bed now, facing you and it then only registered that he and Sirius had cum whilst watching you being fucked by James but you’d been so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t noticed.

“Stop thinking so hard”, Remus whispered, stroking your cheek tenderly. “We’ll talk about this all tomorrow but you haven’t lost us, we’ll still be right by your side when you wake up”. You took a deep breath, the tension melting away as you smiled at him before closing your eyes.

Tomorrow was a new day, a new start to whatever was going on between the four of you but one thing was certain, you’d need to speak to Lily about making some birth control potion soon.

#poly!marauders #marauders smut #marauders one shot #the marauders #james potter smut #james potter one shot #james potter #sirius black smut #sirius black one shot #sirius black #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin smut #remus lupin #hp smut #hp one shot #hp #mine*

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auggieblogs · 4 months

Text

Secret Santa | f1 grid Instagram au

f1 grid x driver! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ doing their first secret santa segment with the grid

Author's note: Hello, loves. Hope you all are doing good. Now that the Secret Santa video is out I can finally upload this fic. This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, I was expecting it to be better but that's okay. I'm going to serve with my next fic, promise. Happy reading, everyone:))

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The winter air was filled with festive cheer as the Formula 1 paddock prepared for its annual Secret Santa exchange. As a rookie, it was your first time participating in this heartwarming tradition and you were excited, to say the least. The camera crew followed you, capturing every moment leading up to the big reveal of your Christmas gift.

The media team had already hinted that your gift was something extraordinary, a collective effort from the entire grid. The box was larger than expected, and you could feel the curiosity building up.

Lifting the lid, you were met with an array of dog toys, dog clothes, and even some dog food. A chuckle escaped your lips as you examined the peculiar assortment. "Interesting," you remarked, holding up a tiny doggie shirt to the camera. "I doubt that's going to fit me, but I really appreciate the thought, everyone."

Laughter echoed around you, and you took the lighthearted gift in stride, knowing the Secret Santa segment was known for its humorous nature.

Behind the scenes, someone from the camera crew spoke up, letting you know that this was only half of your present. Perplexed, you turned toward the camera, curiosity etched across your face. Then, from behind you, emerged a crew member carrying a small, fluffy golden retriever puppy in his arms.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and a hushed "no, no, no" escaped your lips as you connected the dots. The reality sunk in, and you moved back, your hand covering your mouth in sheer disbelief. "Say sike right now," you pleaded, almost unable to comprehend what was in front of you. The response was a firm denial, confirming that the puppy was indeed your Secret Santa gift from the entire grid.

You gingerly accepted the puppy into your arms, cradling it close to your chest. "Oh, you're so small," you cooed, a mixture of laughter and happy tears streaming down your face. The puppy reciprocated with wet kisses, and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of this unexpected gift.

As you revel in the joy of the moment, a voice from behind the camera interrupted, "Do you like your gift?" You nodded vigorously, still cradling the puppy in your arms. "I love him so, so much," you replied, sniffling.

Finally, you noticed a note nestled among the dog toys. With the puppy still in your arms, you delicately unfolded the note, "Happy Christmas, Y/N. You are collectively everyone's favourite on the grid. Hope you like the puppy, he's just like you," the note read and was signed by all the drivers.

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked into the camera. "Thank you, everyone. I love all of you. This is the best Christmas ever." You lifted the puppy so that he could face the camera too, and the collective "awws" echoed around the paddock.

The person behind the camera couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to name him?" You pondered for a moment before deciding, "He looks like a Lenny, no?"

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

yourusername

liked by f1, landonorris and 287,120 others

yourusername Lenny SnoopDawg Y/L in da house😎

comments:

username lmao he's so silly

username kissies on da face!!!!

username can't believe the drivers gifted a golden retriever, an actual golden retriever smh

landonorris I CALL GODFATHER

charles_leclerc Uh back the fuck up. I am the godfather

landonorris You didn't call it though, snoozers losers😘

logansargeant Sorry to break it to you guys but Y/N said her favourite gets to be the godfather, so it's actually me

oscarpiastri Mate, do you ever get tired of being wrong? I'm obviously her favourite

landonorris sources: trust me bro

carlossainz55 I just feel like someone who's actually experienced with dogs should get to be the godfather

mickschumacher So you mean, me? Awh Carlos, thank you

carlossainz55 No.

landonorris I'm real experienced with dogs

yourusername yes, we all remember Uno

albon_pets not to be bias or anything but @alex_albon is great with pets

charles_leclerc That is in fact very bias

albon_pets we are not talking to you dude😠

maxverstappen1 Can I be the father?

logansargeant PAUSE

georgerussell63 Hold up, HOLD THE FUCK UP

yourusername I-is that a flirtation?????

username what the dog doin

username bet lenny is a better driver than me

f1 You should never let your dog drive a car. Soon they'll get better than you and start competing in formula 1😟

username LMAOOO ADMIN PLEASEEEEE

username happened to my buddy eric once

roscoelovescoco IS THAT WHY I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE ANYMORE?

oscarpiastri that's my car he's driving btw

username Lenny is the goddest boy☹️

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pandoraslxna · 5 months

Text

❄️ Kinkmas — 01. Cockwarming ❄️

Neteyam x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: cockwarming, soft morning sex, fluff, size difference, belly bulge

⋆｡° ✮ Translations: ngaytxoa = sorry / my apologies, tsawke = sun, mowan = pleasing / enjoyable (physically, sexually), yawne = beloved

⋆｡° ✮ For my precious @viviartsy who requested fluffy morning sex 🩵

It was winter on pandora, one of those late days when everything was so cold that no matter how much wood you placed into the fire or under how many blankets and furs you buried yourself in, there were still goosebumps on your arms.

On top of it being the hard frost of winter, it was also early, and the sun was just barely starting to shine over the horizon, leaving the marui a fuzzy blue-gray. Loosely-closed cloths that served as curtains filtered light in, everything painted in the cool tones of a winter morning.

The first rustle in the blankets came from you, soft skin sliding against the blue of your mate’s, the woven sheets whispering icey secrets. You could feel the cold in your bones, but also in Neteyams body as he pressed himself closer to you.

"You’re cold…", you whispered.

"Ngaytxoa…" He sounds so alien when he’s drowsy, everything almost growled or purred or chirred, all at the same time. In these moments he often forgets to switch to the sky people’s language.

The sheets whispered again as you turned around, shifting ever so slowly to welcome the much bigger na‘vi into your arms, let him scoot closer until he’s laying between your soft thighs, face buried against your chest and his arms holding you close. He’s so cold, you could feel it in his chest, in his thighs, where he was usually so warm.

As much as the Na‘vi resembled what your kind called a cat, they were much like reptiles during the colder days, hardly moving until they were warmed up. Sleeping nude didn’t help much, but it was so hard to give up on touching each other. With you so close, hands sliding over his back and arms, cradling the back of his head, you could feel the more cat-like side of him rising, rubbing against you so slowly, soaking you in, seeking your warmth.

"Y’so warm, tsawke." The words were slow and mumbled against the skin of your breasts. His hands found your hips, sliding down to the curve of your bottom, where icy fingers pressed into your flesh, kneading a handful of each cheek. His tail tangled with your ankle, while he tried to wrap you around him like a blanket, slowly rocking his body against yours.

Your legs tightened around his middle and you felt him move, his skin pressed so closely to yours anywhere he could.

You almost didn’t notice the slight pressure from something hard prodding at your thigh if it didn’t send a chill right through you. As his blood heated up, so did the rest of him as well it seems. He felt like he was made of ice against you, but he was starting to warm and it seemed he wasn’t the only thing waking up. Morning sex was almost a constant for you both, and not even the grip of winter could dissuade his libido.

"Need you", Neteyam groaned lowly, a little short of words but you knew exactly what he was asking for.

"Come here", you smiled softly. The words are whispered between you both, not wanting to break the silence that the season brought this early in the morning.

Sliding into you was like diving into a hot spring, wet and warm. Your walls wrapped around him like a blanket and it made him melt into you, a content sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He shuddered as he bottom out, almost pulling away before settling on you again and rolling his hips slowly before coming to an halt completely. You could only imagine how intense the temperature difference was for him like this, especially with how sensitive he was in the morning.

You could feel him bulging your stomach, your own arousal smearing between your fused bodies which raised even more goosebumps on your skin.

Neteyam doesn’t even get a chance to voice his comfort before your walls ripple, tightening around his cock as if to proof that this was the best way to warm him up, then loosening just a bit before starting again.

You moaned softly as the pulsing of his cock got stronger, while your body subconsciously worked his length, giving him the best kind of a massage. Eywa, Neteyam doubt anything na‘vi could ever feel better as his precious human mate did.

"Mmh… mowan, ywane", he breathed heavily, "haa, fuck…"

"Does it feel good?", you murmured, a smile pulling at your lips as you let your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmh, soo good…."

He barely rolled his hips then, pushing further into you while you moaned softly. Your hips moved to meet his, then setting still so that he nudged perfectly against that spongey spot deep inside you that drove you both crazy, and apparently one of the very few ways for him to finish quickly.

You couldn’t even count the times he had fucked you senseless and purposefully knocked the fat tip of his cock against your cervix, just to work himself to his own end. The thought about doing this to his small human mate so effortlessly always had his mind spiraling. He was always so limp and almost loopy with satisfaction then. He cuddled a lot more than usual after those times too, though that’s not saying much.

Now though, now it was just the barest rub against it, feeling the bulge of your tummy and listening to the sweet sounds you made while keeping him warm. You felt more than heard the rumble in his chest that wasn’t really a purr and more like a muffled moan.

Time passed indefinitely like that, wrapped around each other and barely moving at all. You might’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for the tingly feeling of being so full of him that kept you from drowsing off.

Neteyam warmed steadily from there, until both of your bodies were the same temperature and you couldn’t tell where he started and you ended. After a while, he started to move a little, small little trusts every few minutes, although he was not quite fully awake yet. You could feel that he was still half asleep, though he sounded ready to finish soon enough. You shifted slightly to kiss the top of his head where it was still nestled between your breasts, then his shoulder, before you begin to leave a trail from there to his jaw.

Neteyam also began to shift then, just enough for your lips to meet gently as he rolled his hips against yours, his length swallowed up into the warmth of your deliciously slick cunt. The new pace made you both pant softly against each others lips.

You went back to kissing after a few breaths, a bit more insistent this time and with more hunger behind it. Both of your bodies kept crawling so slowly towards your climax, prepared to go over the edge as soon as you were both ready for it.

"Nng… close, m‘close…", Neteyam‘s voice was muffled, both of your moans swallowed by the kiss. "Feels so good, so warm."

"M- Me too", you whimpered softly, clenching your thighs around his hips to pull him in deeper. The position allowed your clit to gently rub against his pubic bone, the friction adding just enough to your growing orgasm.

Your shared orgasm comes just as slow and quietly as the rest of this has been, the constant feeling of pressure on his cock and then the little rolls of his hips guiding you both over the edge with low groans, sweet little moans and a short, sharp thrust. He makes a sound that’s so incredibly content that you can’t help but smile down at him as he basks in your climax. You can feel him squirming around, his cock twitching and throbbing as your walls milk him, sucking down every drop. God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to the warmth spreading so deep on your belly you felt hot all over.

After this, Neteyam nuzzles himself even closer to you, his tail swishing under the blanket like a happy puppy because he feels the way you warm up around him even more, spending heat to him like a cozy fireplace.

"I love you", he sighs and then finally blinks his eyes open to look up at you and you swear you lose yourself in those warm, sun kissed orbs. The only real, golden warmth of the sun this season holds and you think you could live forever with just them.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #Neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you

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fangswbenefits · 6 months

Text

The Arrangement (4) - Solution

Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 3.5k

Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3

Snow.

Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?

It didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread across the swell of your cheeks.

A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity.

It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.

The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.

You did recognise that scent… and your smile immediately dropped.

The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.

Then you plummeted without looking back.

An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.

As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You were squirming and screaming.”

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face.

Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did.

As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.

Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”

You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.

It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.

But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest.

Right.

Vampire.

No body heat unless he was well fed.

“Did I… say anything?”

The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”

“Good.”

Hold on… grunts and… moans?

“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”

Typical.

A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.

The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.

For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.

You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell.

It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.

No.

It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.

Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.

“What's on your mind?”

His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”

“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”

You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, we can.”

“Astarion.”

He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”

It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.

But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”

He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”

You simply ignored him.

And Astarion hated being ignored.

So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.

“I would just like to point out that–”

His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.

You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.

“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”

Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.

You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.

“Wyll!”

Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.

His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.

Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.

“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”

He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”

His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”

“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed.

“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent.

“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”

You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.

However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.

“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”

Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”

“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.

Great.

Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.

“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”

He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.

Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you. “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”

Your heart soared high.

“However…”

Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.

“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”

Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.

“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.

“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”

Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”

Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”

He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned.

Besides, you had nothing to fear.

Justice was on your side.

But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.

Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”

He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”

A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.

It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.

Not without him.

Or even without Astarion.

“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”

You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.

His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.

“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.

“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.

“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I shall have some fruit sent over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, you can get me out of here.”

Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.

You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”

“Right.”

Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.

With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.

Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”

Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”

You didn't reply.

But it was probably both.

“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”

“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”

Good point.

You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”

Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.

“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”

“... but?”

You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”

He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”

Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous.

It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.

Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.

“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”

You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.

Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal.

Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.

“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet.

His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”

Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”

“I know you're lying.”

You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”

One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all.

He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.

Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.

Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.

The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.

It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time.

Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.

“You're getting out of here.”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.

“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.

Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm afraid.”

Oh.

It was to be expected, really…

“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”

“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.

“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”

It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.

“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”

Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”

“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.

“I did invite him – more than once.”

“And I declined every single time.”

You rolled your eyes.

As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.

“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”

Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.

“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”

He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…

“We will have someone fetch it for you.”

“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”

Wyll nodded in silence.

You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.

“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”

You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.

The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.

The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.

A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.

Convenient for Astarion.

Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.

“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”

You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”

He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”

“I suppose.”

There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned.

You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.

“Thank you, Wyll.”

“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”

Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind.

“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.

“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.

“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”

Your head snapped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”

You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”

“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”

You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.

“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”

He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”

“I didn't yell–”

One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.

Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.

You sighed. “This is pointless.”

“Agreed.”

As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.

Gale and Shadowheart.

You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”

Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”

“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”

Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”

You nodded. “Within reason.”

She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”

“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”

The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.

You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.

“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”

He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.

Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.

Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods.

“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”

He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”

You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.

“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.

His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.

“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”

You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated.

Series Masterlist

Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌

Next chapter: Confrontation

I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion angst #astarion scenario

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celiastjamesoscar · 5 months

Text

To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

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Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #Spotify

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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months

Text

wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Bucky's trigger words are being removed and you finally talk about your feelings.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, trigger words, feelings, oral sex, unprotected sex, size kink, dirty talk, love confessions.

Author's note: read part 1 for the better experience💘

After that night, you woke up with Bucky holding you tightly to his chest, and it was really one of the best feelings—waking up in the warmth of his body wrapped around you. Your muscles were sore; you wanted to nuzzle into him and stay like that forever, but unfortunately, Fury called you not so long after because apparently you were the only one who was able to do the mission.

You two didn’t have enough time to talk about whatever happened between you. You were able to say just a few words to each other, with another agent hurrying you up from the quinjet. And after almost the whole month passed by without any contact, you finally got a call from Shuri, who told you that in a couple of days Ayo was going to officially remove trigger words from Bucky, and if everything goes well, he would get a new arm and would be a free man.

Sitting in a quinjet a few miles away from Wakanda, you felt nervous as hell. You didn’t know what Bucky felt toward you. Were your feelings mutual? He did say that he thought about you, but was it just sex for him? Or maybe he regretted everything and wanted to be your friend again.

Honestly, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. After that night, after you finished your mission and were again alone in your room, the aching feeling in your chest made you want to cry. You wanted Bucky with every piece of your body, and living for a month with a million questions and scenarios was too tough. And now, thinking about the coming ceremony, you could barely stop yourself from going down the rabbit hole.

When you finally landed, one of the Dora Milages met you to guide you to the place of the ceremony. It was in the woods, far away from the city and anyone’s eyes. At first, you saw Ayo, who only nodded to you with a small smile.

But then your eyes fell on him.

Bucky was already looking at you, and you didn’t quite understand how he felt about your presence. He was sitting near the fire in his usual Wakandian clothes and with a cute, messy bun—the same that you saw on him when everything between you went downhill. The fire in front of him danced across his face, making him look stunning. Though you could see that he was scared and nervous about what was coming. Those deep lines in between his eyebrows, the slightly unfocused and distant look in the eyes, and the nervous clenching of his fist. It took everything in you not to run closer and hug him to say that he was strong and everything was going to be okay.

Bucky couldn’t believe that you were really there. You came to Wakanda for him, to support him in such an important moment, even though you didn’t have to. You looked gorgeous as always, and the soft smile on your face calmed his overthinking mind. Mumbling a quiet “hey” under your breath, you saw the soft smile blossoming on Bucky’s face and his lips slightly moving as he said it back to you. He was nervous as hell, he couldn’t fight the feeling that there was no chance for him to heal and that the piece of the Winter Soldier was forever immortalized in his brain. But you believed in him, so had had to be strong for you.

“Are you ready, James?” Ayo interrupted your silent conversation with each other and came close to Bucky.

“Are you sure about this?” Bucky looked at the fire, now feeling unsure because of this whole situation again.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone.” Bucky’s worried eyes slipped back to you for a second, as if the thought of you being there when everything might go wrong scared him the most. He just slightly nodded back to Ayo and took a deep breath.

Honestly, you had never heard or even read Bucky’s trigger words because they created a weird, disgusting feeling in your stomach, so when Ayo started to say them, it sent goosebumps down your spine.

Желание.

Your blood froze in your veins by the way Bucky’s face expression changed. His eyes were glued to one spot, and any piece of that soft and warm look that he had for you disappeared.

Ржавый.

Семнадцать.

“This is not gonna work.” His body started to tremble, overwhelmed with the emotions and memories of his past.

Рассвет.

Печь.

Девять.

Bucky’s eyes filled with tears, and he gripped his clothes in his right hand to control his body. You silently cried with him, praying to whoever was up there to let this man be free. You knew that he was strong and that he could fight against people who messed up his head, and seeing that he was not giving up made you feel so proud inside.

Добросердечный.

Возвращение на родину.

Один.

Грузовой вагон.

“You are free.” You deeply inhaled, only then realizing that you had held your breath. Bucky completely broke down with Ayo’s words, lowering his head and unable to hold burning tears.

Ayo looked at you, and that was everything you needed to rush closer to Bucky. You fell to your knees right on the ground in front of him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and bringing his head to your neck. He sank into you, crying harder and gripping the back of your shirt with his hand.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you, James. You did amazing. You are so strong, baby.” Your soothing voice filled his ears while you held him close to you with one hand and rubbed his back with another.

“‘M sorry.” The hot breath touched your neck when Bucky started to mumble and apologize with a shaky voice.

You pushed him back by his shoulders and immediately put your hands on his face when you saw the panic on his face. “No. No, Bucky. There’s nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m here for you. You did such a good job, and I’m so proud that you fought back and got rid of these stupid words. You can live a normal life now, and I’ll be there for you as long as you want me to.” Your fingers wiped the tears, not missing how Bucky leaned into your touch.

“Thank you for coming here. It means everything to me. I’m serious, Y/N. There’s no one in the world I needed to see during this moment besides you. I missed you so much.” He was clearly unsure whether he should say it or not, but you gave him another soft smile, feeling how the tension left his body a little bit.

“I missed you too, Buck.” Your faces moved closer, eyes glued to each other's lips. “I’m sorry that I left in such a hurry. I didn’t want to.” You almost whispered, unable to stop thinking about kissing him. Bucky had almost given in when his body moved closer to yours as a magnet, but this little intimate moment was interrupted by the voice of Wakanda’s princess.

“Sorry to disturb your peace, but me and my brother have a little present here. And I’m not a fan of looking at other people making out, by the way.” Your face got hot when you looked back and saw Shuri, T'Challa, and Dora Milaje all staring at you.

Bucky quickly stood up, helping you get up from your knees and then leaning lower to dust off your knees. He looked back at you with a frown on his cute face, as if only then he realized that you had been standing on the ground this whole time. You only grabbed his right hand and bit your lip, trying to hold back your growing smile.

You led Bucky closer to everyone, and when two women brought a large vibranium box and put it in front of Bucky, you freed his only arm, putting your left hand on his lower back in a supportive gesture.

“Congratulations, White Wolf.” T’Challa nodded his head, and one of Dora Milaje’s stepped in front of the case and opened it, revealing Bucky’s new arm.

It was truly beautiful. Smooth, dark vibranium arm with golden pieces.

“It’s completely my design. This arm is much better than the last one; it’s stronger, it has some cool options, and you can take it off whenever you want to. But what is more important is that I worked hard and found a way to connect it to the nerves so you can feel everything. Not as good as the real one, of course, but still.” Shuri said with her hard accent, obviously being really proud of her own masterpiece. You couldn't hold back the tears, overwhelmed with the fact that she made it for Bucky and didn't ask for anything in return.

“I can feel?” Bucky’s voice almost broke, and you came closer, pressing your body against his back. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Shuri. And you too, T’Challa. I can't express how grateful I am that you allowed me to stay in Wakanda and are now giving me this.”

“It’s an honor, Sergeant Barnes. So do you want to try it on?”

Dora Milaje easily lifted what looked like a really heavy arm; Bucky rolled up his clothes, and, with a quick motion, it was connected with his shoulder. He stayed silent for a few seconds as if he were getting used to the feeling, but then he rotated it 360 degrees, and you heard the soft swirling of the plates.

He looked down at his new hand, clenching and unclenching his fist, moving each finger, and you stared at this in awe.

“Can I... hurt someone with it unintentionally?” His eyes quickly shot to you before looking back at Shuri. A knowing smile appeared on her face, and she exchanged looks with her brother.

“No. Speaking in simple terms, it’s connected to your nervous system and brain. Like your right arm, the brain just sends electrical impulses there. If you have no intention of doing something, it won’t happen. I promise this.”

“Well, I think we can finish it here. You both can be guests here as long as you want to; our country is always open for you. Have a great night.” T’Challa lowered his head, and you mumbled a little ‘thank you’, and after that, you and Bucky were left alone near the fire.

You felt the tension between you two as you both stayed silent. Bucky looked too lost in his head, unsure what to do or say to. How was he supposed to acted around the woman he had an amazing sex with and who he had crush on for way too long. It shouldn’t have been that awkward. You were best friends, and even if you both had secret feelings for each other, nothing changed.

“Can you show me?” You stretched your right hand, waiting for Bucky to feel confident enough to allow you to touch his new vibranium arm. He looked at you curiously, with a hint of fear and insecurity. “It’s just me, Buck, remember?”

He deeply inhaled before putting his left hand in yours; his eyes were staring at your face, closely looking at your reaction.

Your hands wrapped around his vibranium wrist, holding it gently and getting used to the feel of the smooth metal. Your right hand went higher to trace golden plates with your fingers, absolutely stunned by their beauty.

“I– I can feel your touch.” Bucky got a lump in his throat because of your gentle movements and how softly you treated him, even though he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t exactly how he felt with the right hand, but it was something. The thought of finally being able to hold you and hug you sent a warm feeling through his stomach.

“You deserve it, James. I’m so happy for you.” One of your hands flew back to Bucky’s face, and you bit your lip when the feeling of the moment that you two shared earlier washed over you again.

Bucky once again leaned into your touch, showing how much trust he had for you, while his eyes never left your beautiful face, lit by the warm light of fire. He stepped closer, finally realizing how much he needed to feel you again. Since that day, almost a month ago, he has thought about you non-stop. Even if the rational part of his brain told him that you just couldn’t call or visit him whenever you wanted, he still convinced himself that it meant nothing to you. That it was a mistake, because how could you possibly want him, out of all people?

But now you've come back. You came here again to visit him on such an important day. You stood by him, touching his metal hand without fear, and staring at him in that strange way that made Bucky weak in the knees.

He didn’t know what to do or how to talk about that night in his hut, but when he nervously licked his lip and your eyes immediately shot there, Bucky couldn’t think straight anymore.

Before you could even process what was going on, Bucky’s hands were on each side of your face, dragging you higher and closer. His slightly chapped lips attacked yours, moving quickly and almost desperately. You were taken aback, but you didn’t mind, kissing him with no less passion. Your tongues were connected, dancing around each other, making you both moan and trying to get your bodies as close as possible.

It was overwhelming—too hot to handle, actually. If you thought that you just missed Bucky before that, then during the kiss, your mind and your body screamed for him to take you right on the spot. You needed him closer—on top of you, inside of you.

You suddenly moaned into the kiss, remembering how fucking good it felt to be so full of him. Bucky freed your face, instead finally gripping your waist and hips and pressing you closer to his hard chest.

“Bucky– James, please, I want you so bad.” You whined, clinging onto his shoulders. He pulled his face away, licking his lips to get more of your taste, and when you locked your eyes again, your body tensed, and you unconsciously started to squeeze around nothing.

You both already looked so messy, with red cheeks and hot skin. Bucky stayed silent for a moment, still getting used to being able to hold you with both arms.

“Are you sure, doll? I don’t want you to regre–”

“No, no, Bucky. I won’t regret it. The last time was the best fucking night of my life. I wish I could stay, but you know that they didn’t allow me. I missed you, and I thought about it so much that it’s embarrassing to admit.” You quickly interrupted him. Bucky’s hands tightened around you at your confession, and he nodded more to himself.

“C’mon, my hut is not far away.”

***

It was really not far away, but still, while Bucky was leading you by your hand, you almost fell. You were just so mesmerized by his strong back that you completely forgot to look under your feet in the almost complete darkness. Bucky’s reflexes helped you stay on your feet, and mumbling something like “It’s faster that way, anyway,” he casually lifted you off the ground, making you wrap around him like a koala around the tree. His right arm was under your ass, and the metal one was protectively lying on your waist.

It was so effortless for him, as if your weight were nothing, and it made you even more wet and excited than the kiss.

In just a few minutes, Bucky got to his hut, turning on the small light and closing the door. He put you back on the floor but he didn’t let you go far away.

“You can’t imagine how much I want you, Y/N. I dreamed about you even before our first time. You are so beautiful, so gorgeous, fuck.” He dragged you closer, connecting your foreheads. Your chest felt tight after his words, and you gently rubbed his bearded cheek.

“I want you the same way. Since the day we became friends. I wish you could see yourself the way I do—that you deserve all the best things in the world, that you are not a burden for any of us, and especially not for me. ” You mumbled, not breaking eye contact.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, but then leaned closer and connected your lips. It was much softer, without a rush. You both were just enjoying the feeling, happy to be in each other's arms again. You grabbed his clothes, not ending your kiss, and started to go back until you felt the pile of soft blankets on the floor. You then lowered both of your bodies and laid back, so Bucky was now on top of you.

He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you.

It was and felt much different than your first time. He was on top of you, holding himself with his left arm near your head. Even if Bucky knew that you truly didn’t care about it, the fact that he was now capable of pleasing you and treating you the way you deserved made him feel a little bit better about himself.

Bucky’s eyes slowly checked your whole body, from your pretty eyes and plump, swollen lips all the way down to the soft skin of your legs. He couldn’t help himself and put his large and warm hand on your left thigh, then traced your legs and belly as if it were his first time. You were shivering under his eyes and touch, but you still didn’t move and let him do what he needed too.

You understood how hard it was for Bucky to be almost without control the last time you were together. He needed to feel in charge after everything he had gone through, and you didn’t mind letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

“Let me take care of you, doll. Please.” He almost whispered, looking back at your face.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time? You can have me, Bucky.” You put your hands around his body, feeling tensed muscles under his clothes.

I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay?

Bucky growled when he remembered the exact words you told him.

He caught your lips in a kiss again, rubbing your thigh with his hand and then getting it higher until it rested on your breast, covered in a bra. His mouth moved lower, slightly pinching and biting the tender skin of your neck and collarbones. At the same time, he dragged the cups of your bra lower, finally getting to your boobs. Two fingers took your sensetive nipple in them, slightly pressing on it and making your body tremble. Your fingers slid up from his shoulders until you were able to bury them in the soft brown locks.

“So sensitive, hm?” His hot breath on your chest made you unconsciously nod in agreement, and you could swear that you felt how Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk. “I need to take it off.”

Suddenly, he was not lying on top of you anymore but sitting in between your legs with both hands on your thighs. He looked flushed and had that kind of shine in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Bucky’s hands moved higher, pulling up the shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Then he looked at your bra but didn’t do anything.

“You can take it off, Buck. If you remember how to do it, old man.”

The tension in Bucky’s body immediately vanished after your joke, and his brows flew to his hair.

“Well, then you fuck with an old man, sweetheart. And I do remember how to do it.” He proved his point by sliding his hand behind your back and, with one swift motion, unclipping it. “Shit, I almost forgot how good they looked.”

His hands hesitated for a few seconds, and when you saw that slightly distant look in his eyes creeping back, you decided to slightly push him.

“Give me your hands, Bucky. Both of them.” He looked at you unsurely but still obeyed your request.

“I’m not sure—”

You completely ignored his words, instead taking both wrists into your hands and placing Bucky’s hands on your boobs. The feeling of cold metal made you hiss, but it felt good against your flushed and sensitive skin.

“Do you remember what Shuri said? You won’t hurt me until it’s your intention. And you don’t want to do it, do you?” You playfully arched an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

“No, God— no, doll. I would never, I swear.”

“Then I want you to properly touch me with both of your hands and finally take off your damn clothes.”

“You’re hot when you're being bossy.” Following your instructions, he finally gave in and started to play with your hard nipples with his thumbs. His head lowered back to your chest, and then his hot mouth was sucking and gently licking your nipple while the metal hand took care of the other one.

It felt amazing and addictive. You couldn’t control your moans and the way your hips tried to rub onto something, but only met with Bucky’s lower stomach. You were desperate to get more, without feeling shame grinding on his torso, and finally, when Bucky was satisfied with giving attention to your boobs, he went lower, kissing your belly down to your shorts.

“Need to taste you, doll. Please let me do it.” You just nodded, and it was everything Bucky needed to quickly drag your shorts and panties down your legs and lay flat on his stomach, trowing your legs over his shoulders.

Your mouth slightly opened at this picture. You would’ve never thought that Bucky Barnes, your best friend and deadliest assassin, would be in between your legs, asking to taste you.

He didn’t hesitate, instantly diving in and licking a long stripe across your folds. You both moaned. Your head fell back, and Bucky gripped your thighs only tighter to hold you close. He was obviously enjoying it himself. You felt it in the way he circled his tongue around your clit, then went lower and put it in you to get every drop of your juice; by the way he was slightly moving your hips, as if he just wanted you to ride his face; and by the way he moaned into your soaking core when your hand slipped into his long hair and gripped them.

Your orgasm came quick and unexpected, washing all over you and making you desperately moan and squeeze your thighs around Bucky’s head. He licked you softly and gently, helping you to go through it but still wanting to taste your sweet cream.

“S’ pretty, baby. Can spend here all fucking day, I swear.” His face and beard looked soaking wet, but he didn’t seem to mind when the self-satisfied grin appeared on his lips.

You thought that you liked him that way. You felt good that you were able to bring it out of him, even for some time. Bucky looked different, as he forgot about everything else in the world and even about things that happened just an hour ago. He looked younger and happier, and you bit your lip to not smile like an idiot.

Bucky moved higher up your body, kissing you again. You moaned into his mouth as soon as you tasted yourself on his lips, while your hands started wandering around his body and trying to feel more bare skin. Finally, you unfastened his belt and were able to take off his red shuka, revealing pretty and tanned skin that you hadn't had a chance to see fully the last time.

He moved away, watching your face while your soft hands touched his skin. You were so delicate, tracing with your fingers from his abs to his left shoulder. Bucky’s body shivered when you finally reached the rough, bumpy skin covered in scars. Besides the Wakandian doctors, you were the first person he allowed to see that, and the fact that your face didn’t show any sign of disgust or fear almost brought Bucky to tears.

“You're really beautiful, Bucky; you know that?” Even in the dark light of the room, you could see the pink dust covering his cheeks. “C’mere, I want you.” You dragged him back on top of you, kissing his soft lips. Bucky finally got rid of his clothes with a free hand, and when you felt the weight of his hard cock on the lower part of your belly, you instantly moaned into the kiss.

Bucky’s flesh hand gripped your thighs, lining his own perfectly that way, so his cock was sliding back and forth on your wet core. You wanted to continue kissing him, but it was hard to concentrate when his tip bumped into your still-sensitive clit every single time.

“B-bucky…”

“Fuck, I missed your moans. Baby—so wet for me, huh? Can just easily slip in…” There were only a few inches between your faces, and your lips were touching with each word, but your head was so light and fuzzy with the stimulation that the only thing that you were able to think of was his dick inside of you.

“Please, Bucky, please, I need you inside.” Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, pulling him closer, and your hands were tightly holding his shoulders.

Bucky bumped his nose into yours in an affectionate way, and the next thing you felt was the way he slowly entered you.

Your eyes rolled back with the loud gasp escaping your mouth. Bucky growled in your neck, settling in and stretching you out so deliciously. His hand probably left fingerprints on your delicate skin, but he just couldn’t control himself with the way your wet pussy was so welcoming and warm around him.

“My good girl. Fuck, I won’t let you leave again; you’re mine now, baby.” Bucky quickly pulled himself together, standing on his knees in between your legs, and finally started moving.

He didn’t hesitate when both of his hands held you tightly in place, so you wouldn’t move with every thrust of his hips. He set the perfect steady rhythm, pushing his cock all the way in and then drugging it out so only the tip would stay inside.

You were just a moaning and whining mess, trying to find anything to hold onto. Bucky was standing over you, and as much as you wanted to enjoy his pretty face and perfect body, your eyes were hazy, and you couldn’t really concentrate on anything.

“That’s right, baby. Feel so good ‘round my cock, takin’ me so well, fuck!” A quick look at the place where the two of you connected almost made Bucky instantly cum. You looked much smaller than him; your pussy gripped his cock so hard, and he was basically drenched in your wetness.

Bucky stretched his right arm to squeeze your nipple, and the change in the angle of his body made the base of his cock touch your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t control the volume of your moans when you dug your nails into Bucky’s arm, and your legs started shaking from the coming orgasm.

“Bucky, ah—don’t stop, I’m gonna cum! Please!”

“Cum with me, babydoll, just let it go.” He didn’t stop. He fucked you even harder and faster, moaning your name out loud. You both were in your little bubble, touching each other, scratching and moaning, trying to reach your highs.

It didn’t take you long to fall over the edge. You whined, arching your back from the floor, as your vision became white with a loud noise in your ears. The way you were spasming around him brought Bucky to his final, and not being able to hold himself anymore, he filled you up with his semen, collapsing on top of your body.

You both were quiet for some time—maybe minutes or even hours. Your mind was floating somewhere because the heavy and warm body on top of you made you feel incredibly safe and comfy. Only when Bucky slightly moved away and brushed sweaty baby hairs from your forehead did you open your eyes.

He was flushed and sweaty too, but he had the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face.

Bucky couldn’t help but stare at your pretty face with dreamy eyes. You were so perfect—literally the best human being in the world—and right now you were with him. You accepted everything he had done; you showered him with your attention and your kindness, even before this happened and when you were best friends.

He wondered who you were for him now.

After that, he couldn’t be your friend anymore. Not when he saw you naked, kissed you, or heard you moaning his name. Even if Bucky tried to silence the voice in his head and lock away his heart, it was impossible to do it now. Lost in his head, his mouth finally worked on it’s own, saying things that were created by his stupid brain.

“I love you.”

Bucky froze in your hands, as if he had surprised even himself with those words, but you didn’t let him pull away and become distant again. You grabbed his face and couldn’t hold back your bright smile.

“I love you too, Buck. I’ve been in love with you for so long.” Bucky couldn’t believe his ears and stared at you in pure disbelief.

“I was head over heels for you but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin everything between us.” Your foreheads touched as you both closed your eyes to enjoy each other's presence.

“Well, me too. I guess we’re both just stupid.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, definitely.” Bucky smiled back at you before he closed an inch between your faces and kissed you again. Sweetly and softly, this time showing you all of the emotions that he kept for you.

“So what’s next? What do you want to do? You are free now.” Bucky fell near you on the floor, pulled you closer to his chest, and deeply inhaled.

“I don’t know... I like to be here, but I want to go back to New York, to Brooklyn, and I want to be with you.”

“Then stay in the compound. Stay with us. Stay with me. We can spend a few more days in Wakanda and then go back to New York. I bet that Steve and even Sam miss you.” Your fingers traced the lines on his stomach, and you looked up to see Bucky's reaction to your words.

“Okay, doll. Let’s do it. I'll be happy to do whatever you want to, as long as you're with me.” Bucky kissed the top of your head, tightening his hands around your back, and you nuzzled deeper into his body, finally being happy and calm.

Tags: @scorpiosaintt @livingoffsavvyillusion

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you

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charlesslut16 · 5 months

Text

-Pregnant christmas-

summary : you and lando visit his family pregnant...

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i am so sorry that i didn't post for two days but i had so much to do with collage that i ahd no time to update.

december masterlist ; masterlist

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You stepped out of the car, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks as you and Lando arrived at his family's home for Christmas. The air was filled with the scent of pine and anticipation, a light blanket of snow covering the ground, making everything seem like a scene from a holiday card.

The crisp winter air carried the scent of pine and cinnamon as Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, and you, his radiant wife, made your way to Lando's family home for a magical Christmas reunion.

With beautiful snowflakes dancing around you, you approached the door adorned with lights, nestled amidst a snowy landscape, adorned with twinkling lights and wreaths.

Lando squeezed your hand gently as you walked up the front steps, his smile warm and infectious. He was excited to introduce you as his wife and share this special time with his family, especially with a little one on the way.

The house was adorned with twinkling lights, a magnificent tree standing proudly in the corner, adorned with colorful ornaments and tinsel.

Laughter echoed through the halls, and you were immediately enveloped in a flurry of hugs and greetings from Lando's family.

As you entered the cozy home of the Norris family, the warmth of festive cheer enveloped the two of you. Lando's family greeted you with open arms and infectious enthusiasm.

His mom, a bundle of joy and warmth, enveloped you in a tight hug, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Welcome, both of you! Oh, look at that bump," she exclaimed, gently placing a hand on your growing belly, a gesture that made Lando beam with pride. His mother adored you.

Your pregnancy bump, adorned with a festive ribbon, was immediately ushered to the comfiest armchair by Lando's mom, who insisted she would take it easy while the others bustled around, preparing a lavish Christmas feast.

The day was a whirlwind of festive activities. Lando's nieces and nephews eagerly showed you their handmade decorations, each one proudly displaying their artistic skills.

Lando, ever the mischievous one, snuck behind you and whispered silly jokes in your ear, making you burst into fits of laughter. He could be serious if he wanted to be, but you liked him better this way.

Amidst the joyful chaos, you found yourselves in the cozy kitchen, where Lando's dad, an expert in culinary delights, was concocting his famous Christmas dinner.

The aromas of roasting turkey and spices filled the air, and you couldn't resist stealing a bite of the freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter, you were allowed, I mean you were pregnant.

As the day drifted into evening, everyone gathered around the fireplace, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Lando's sister, armed with a guitar, led the family in singing classic Christmas carols.

Lando, ever the enthusiast, joined in, his voice blending harmoniously with the melodies, eliciting smiles and applause from everyone. He truly was an angel, your angel.

Later, you found a quiet moment with Lando by the glowing tree, the twinkling lights casting a magical aura around you both. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and whispered,

"This is perfect, isn't it? Spending Christmas with you and our little one on the way."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion as you rested your head against his chest.

"Absolutely perfect," you whispered back, your heart swelling with love for this man and the family you were becoming a part of.

The evening ended with exchanging heartfelt gifts, laughter, and embraces. Lando's mom pulled you aside, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

"For the little one," she said with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

It was a beautiful little necklace with Norris been standing on it. You knew that either bean would be a girl or a boy, she or he would appreciate and love the lovely gift.

As you and Lando drove back home, the moon lighting the snow-covered landscape, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and happiness.

"I love you, Lan. I hope that we can spend a thousand more Christmas together."

"I love you, angel."

"And I love you, bean," Lando added and gave your bump a little kiss, as he stood at a red traffic light.

The day had been filled with love, warmth, and the promise of new beginnings. And as you both nestled into each other's arms, you knew that this Christmas would be a cherished memory forever etched in your hearts.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 fluff #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #l4ndo #lando norris x y/n #christmas #masterlist

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withleeknow · 23 days

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seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

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#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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roosterforme · 4 months

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Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 8000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California.

"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"

You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."

"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"

You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.

She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.

When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand.

But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.

"Mommy!"

You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.

------------------------

"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."

"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for.

"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air.

"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"

"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."

"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.

Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction.

"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.

But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.

Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."

Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."

"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."

But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"

You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."

"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"

Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."

"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes.

"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."

She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."

Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."

"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"

Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.

"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."

You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."

Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"

This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink."

Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."

Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."

"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"

"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."

She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.

"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"

"Pandas!"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."

"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."

Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"

She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why.

"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately.

"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look.

"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."

"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"

"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."

"Fuck," Jake groaned.

"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered.

"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.

"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.

"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears.

"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him.

"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically.

"Really, feel free to tell her no."

But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."

"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.

"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled.

"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."

Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character.

"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"

Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."

"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb.

"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets."

Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."

"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."

She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"

He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"

"Yeah! A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."

Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"

Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."

"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"

"A boyfriend."

His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"

She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."

Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"

"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s

------------------------------

You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head.

"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time.

"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet.

"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words.

"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.

"Yeah... he seems pretty great."

But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?

You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize.

Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.

You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip."

You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.

I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!

And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.

Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!

"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.

But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.

You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.

You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig.

You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?

------------------------

Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees.

Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?

He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet.

Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.

You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree.

Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!

Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again.

But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?

He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone.

Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.

You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response.

I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.

"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.

Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.

Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan.

On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.

Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile.

"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs.

"Santa!"

He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him.

"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"

You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."

"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"

"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."

You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"

"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring.

"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand.

"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."

Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.

"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him.

He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."

When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."

"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."

Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"

"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside.

--------------------------

You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down.

"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him.

"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared.

California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid.

You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred.

And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa.

"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.

After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.

You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."

But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.

I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.

You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to.

You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.

"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."

But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.

You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...

You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.

-------------------------

Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco.

He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."

You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding.

"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."

You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."

You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."

Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."

"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind.

Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs.

"I made you some hot chocolate."

Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"

"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him.

"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."

"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.

Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"

Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."

"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?

"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."

"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box.

You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"

"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer.

"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."

"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."

"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him.

You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."

He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."

"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him.

"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."

You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."

Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus.

But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."

You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach.

When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it.

"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."

"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."

"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"

"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."

Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked.

"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"

Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."

"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.

He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."

You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."

Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."

You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."

Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."

"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."

He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."

When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.

"Hey, Santa?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding.

You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."

"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.

"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.

He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"

"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped.

"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."

"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today.

When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."

"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours.

"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."

He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."

"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."

Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck.

The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his.

And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper.

"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses.

Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"

-----------------------------

Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27

PART 2

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