#I need more candy cane in my life

[gh0st031208]

Hunters gay thoughts for Survivor and now I wanna write a damn story about these two so badly i just need the time.

[ajdrawshq]

Riku/Repliku/Vanitas' darksuits n Akechi's black mask outfit are like. in the exact same category of both cool n edgy n gender but also kinda silly looking. unfortunately for Akechi his leans more toward the latter

[gojo-mochi]

Mistletoe kiss with Higuruma for @pseudowho <3

"Dear, could you get the other box and bring it here?” 

Higuruma shuffles his way back to you with a large box filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. You were putting up ornaments on the Christmas tree and needed more trinkets and sparkles on it. In fact, Higuruma’s whole apartment has been decorated thanks to your help. “Do we really need all this stuff, my love?” Higuruma shakes the box in his hands, rattling the baubles inside. He was never one to celebrate the holidays, and he never thought he would, especially to this extent. Living the life of a sorcerer made him a bit jaded, to the point where he usually skips any festivities.

That was until you came into his life, and now his heart has grown three times in size. He didn’t want to be a Grinch and ruin your holiday cheer, but he was a little confused about why everything sparkled so much. You could sense the confusion on his face as he scrunched his nose a bit when you pulled out more trinkets from the box. “We probably don’t need all of it, but it is for the spirit of the holiday.” You pulled out a candy cane from the box and booped Higuruma’s nose with it. He jokingly bites at your fingers when you pull back, setting the box down and coming up behind you.   

Resting his chin on top of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist, slowly rocking you in his hold, side to side, humming along to the Christmas’s songs you got on loop in the background. “As long as you’re happy with it, my love, I’ll suffer through any merriness year-round just for you.” He said it sarcastically, and you chuckled, pulling his arms closer around you. Enjoying the immense warmth his body gives off, you rummage in your pocket sneakily, grabbing the special item that you prepared earlier. 

“I think you’ll like this holiday’s tradition, though, love.” Higuruma nuzzles his nose in your hair, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Hmm, what is it?” He kept his arms around you as he looked down at you quizzically. You fish out the item in your pocket and hold it high above the two of you. “See this? It's called a mistletoe~” Higuruma squeezed you a bit tighter and said, “I know what a mistletoe is, my love.” He chuckles, letting go of you, only to spin you around to face him and trap you in his arms again. 

You lean up and boop your nose with his. “And you know what it means to be caught under one, right?” Higuruma hums a little and flutters his eyelashes a bit at you. “I’m not sure; why don’t you come here and show me…”  And with that, you both leaned in closer to one another, pressing your lips gently on his. It starts off slow with a few pecks, then develops further as Higuruma presses his tongue on your bottom lips, making you whine. Giving him a chance to press forward, a hand on your cheek as he tilts your head up and invades your mouth with his tongue.

He takes away your breath like he was a man dying for air, but parts away from you once he feels you have enough. With a string of salvia connecting the both of you as he parts, he looks into your eyes and whispers softly, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

[agaypanic]

Hi can you do dating Bernard headcanons

Dating Bernard the Elf Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: decided to combine these bc they’re both bernard headcanon requests and tbh i think he'd argue a lot, especially around christmas

***

His job always comes first before everything else

Sorry bbg

When you start dating, he tries to balance his work life and personal life better

But don’t be surprised when he can barely pay attention to you when Christmas gets near

“Bernard?” You called quietly, knocking on the open door of his office. Your boyfriend was scribbling away on paper, murmuring to himself things you couldn’t hear. “The day’s over, Bernard.”

He simply hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t look up at you. Sighing, you walked over to his desk and stood beside him, hand resting on his shoulder.

“Workshop’s closed.”

“I’m not done.”

“It’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“I need to finish this now.” Bernard looked up at you briefly before burying his nose back in his work. “Y/n, you can go home. You don’t have to stay here.”

Even before you started dating, you were used to Bernard working himself to death. Sometimes, when you thought about it, you wondered how you ever found the time to fall in love because, more often than not, he was cooped up in his office.

Using as much of your strength as possible, you grabbed the back of Bernard’s chair and somehow pulled him away from his desk. He immediately protested this, but you ignored him and pulled him up by the arm.

“Ten minutes.” You say, dragging him to a couch in the corner of his office by the fireplace.

“What?” Bernard asked, huffing as you pushed him to sit down.

“Since you refuse to leave, the very least you could do is take a ten-minute break.”

Bernard wanted to protest. He had a mountain of paperwork, and Christmas was just around the corner. Plus, he was your boss. He shouldn’t be taking orders from you; it should be the other way around.

But he’d be lying if he said that the stern look you were giving didn’t scare him a bit.

“Fine.”

The week before Christmas is very stressful

Like, good luck getting him to go to sleep or even leave his office

This is probably the only time of year that you truly argue and get angry at each other

Ironic, right?

“Any ideas on what to have for dinner?” You asked as you set a mug of hot cocoa on Bernard’s desk. He took a sip, not even reacting to the scalding hot temperature. “Or will you even be home for dinner?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bernard asked. You would’ve laughed at the question, but you could sense some tensions starting to rise.

“It’s almost Christmas; you usually don’t leave the workshop until after Santa comes back.”

“Well, yeah, that’s my job, Y/n.”

“Okay, then I just won’t wait up for you.” You say with a slightly bitter tone, ready to leave the office. You obviously knew Bernard’s job was like this, but that didn’t ease your sourness.

“Good.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t bother; I’ll probably be here until Santa comes back.” You could pick up the slight mocking of your voice. 

“Fine.” You grumbled, not bothering to look back at him as you opened the door. “Stay here, with your candy cane in a twist.”

“Candy canes are supposed to be twisted.”

“Shut up!” You barked, slamming the door behind you.

You always make up tho

This is like your routine

When Santa comes back to the North Pole, there’s always a big Christmas party to celebrate

But you and Bernard stay at home

“Ugh, I can finally relax,” Bernard said as he brought two mugs of hot cocoa to the table. He sat in his chair, stretching his stiff limbs before taking a sip.

“Yeah, until next year.” You laugh, bringing over a fresh plate of cookies.

“Don’t remind me.” He whined, giving you a pout that went away as soon as you kissed his lips. He rested a hand over yours, fingers closing around your palm. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You say, squeezing Bernard’s hand. “I shouldn’t complain so much. You’re the Head Elf; it’s all just part of the job.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t always be focusing on just my job. Especially now that I have you.”

You grinned at the sincere statement, kissing Bernard again.

“Looks like we have our New Year’s resolutions. Less complaining and less working.” Bernard laughed, and you followed along. 

“I’ll do my best on that.”

***

Bernard the Elf Taglist: @katerinaval

[shintin]

The Wacky Widow's Woes

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Comedy one-shot

Summary: In a twist of fate, the most obnoxious person on Earth, Gojo Satoru, appeared by your hospital bed. Clearly, the universe had a wicked sense of humor.

Word count: 5k.

Genre: comedy, fluff, yapping (Jujutsu Kaisen au).

Warnings/Tags: humor, no angst, whipped Satoru Gojo, bitchy reader, a lot of jokes about chapter 236 of the JJK manga (my personal healing process), mention of Kitkat, prepare for Gojo's nauseating love for his wife, who's probably sick of him.

Notes: I hope you laugh your ass off while reading this.

You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.

On a very, very, very dull autumn afternoon, we find ourselves in a hospital room where its fancy ass curtains are just letting in enough sunlight to cast a gloomy, eerie glow.

There, on the bed, lies a woman who seems to have become one with the medical equipment—or, better to say, a high-tech octopus. Wires and tubes sprout from her body like overgrown vines, connecting her to an orchestra of beeping machines. It's like a twisted version of a modern art installation, where chaos and order collide in a symphony of medical mayhem.

The woman, blissfully oblivious to the cacophony surrounding her, snores away, blissfully lost in dreamland. It's almost comical how she manages to find solace amidst the tangled wires and the chorus of beeps. One might wonder if she's dreaming of a magical place where the cables turn into candy canes and the machines play cheerful tunes instead of somber heartbeats.

The lighting in the room sucks, perhaps to match the mood or new architectural ambiance design. For fuck's sake, who knows! Shadows dance across the walls, conspiring with the flickering fluorescent lights to create an atmosphere that's equal parts unsettling and strangely fascinating.

As if to bring a touch of irony to the scene, a sad excuse for a vase sits on a nearby table, barely holding onto life. Its wilted flowers, once vibrant and alive, now resemble a bouquet of autumn hues gone horribly wrong. It's a symbolic reminder that beauty is fleeting, just like the woman's health, and that even in the darkness, there's a twisted kind of beauty to be found.

The room carries the unmistakable scent of sterile cleanliness, mingled with a hint of despair. It's the kind of smell that makes you want to open a window and let in some fresh air (read jump out), but alas, in this hospital room, fresh air seems like a distant memory.

Well, hold on to your hospital gown because here's a plot twist for you! Picture this: you've been envisioning this serene hospital room, reading it in all its autumnal glory, and guess what? The woman lying on that bed, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes, is none other than... drumroll... you!

Yep, you're the star of the show, ready to wake up and face your second stroke. But hey, don't worry, it's not going to be as boring as your room décor. No, no, life has decided to throw you a curveball and add a dash of excitement to your hospital stay. Who needs a peaceful recovery when you can have a stroke sequel, right?

So get ready to jolt awake and embrace the chaos! Remember, even in between unexpected events, a good sense of humor can be the best medicine. Laughter might not cure your condition, but it can certainly make the hospital experience a little more bearable. So, chin up, brave stroke survivor! Your story is about to take an exciting turn!

Well, well, well.

As you wake up from your beauty sleep, feeling as if you've been smooching a cactus all night, the machines around you decide to unleash their inner DJs with a symphony of beeps. How thoughtful of them to create an auditory masterpiece that grates on your nerves like a tone-deaf choir. Ah, music to your ears, right?

But fear not, the brave warrior of hydration! You are on a noble quest to conquer the desert that has taken residence in your mouth. Summoning every ounce of strength (and probably some residual grumpiness), you muster the strength to ascend from your pillow fortress. With your hand gracefully reaching out for that tempting glass of water, victory feels within reach.

Your hand hovers mid-air as if suspended by an invisible force, frozen in a moment of pure disbelief. Just when you think the universe couldn't possibly play a more mischievous trick on you, there he was—sitting on the couch like he owns the place—the one person you would rather avoid more than a clown with a pie in hand. Seriously, is this some cosmic prank show?

Your eyes widen in disbelief, your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but let out a little groan. It's like the universe is trying to test your resilience, throwing you into this hilariously uncomfortable situation. Oh, the irony!

You: Hell no! What the fuck are you doing here?

Right in front of your very eyes sits the epitome of style and charm—a man sporting a white shirt and black pants combo that would weaken fashion gurus at the knees. No sunglasses dare cross the path of this confident fellow, for his piercing ocean-blue eyes need no protection from the sun's feeble attempts to outshine them.

But wait, there's more! Let's not forget about his head adorned with fluffy white hair that could rival the fluffiest clouds. Ugh!

Satoru: Hello to you too, love!

He strikes a pose that screams, "I'm the king of this couch!" With one leg casually crossed over the other and his arms spread wide on the back of the couch, he's claiming his throne in the most nonchalant and hilarious way possible.

Satoru: Is this how you greet your beloved husband?

You: Fuck off!

With the speed of a ninja on a caffeine high, you swiftly pull the blanket up to your chest, fully aware that the hospital gowns offer about as much coverage as a single sheet of tissue paper. Yes, those flimsy garments are the Victoria's Secret of the medical world—barely there and leaving little to the imagination! And just when you thought the situation couldn't get any more entertaining, you catch a glimpse of his famous smile. Asshole! Is he peeping on you?

Satoru: Aha! The feisty spirit lives on! Missed your sassy attitude.

He grins like a mischievous little rascal who just stumbled upon a secret stash of dad jokes, except it's a porn website!

Satoru: And, of course, your perked-up nipples!

Summoning your inner grumpy penguin, you dramatically cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a glare that could make a grizzly bear retreat in fear.

You: well, Mr. White-Haired Head with a stinky smirk and eyes bluer than a bottle of Windex, I didn't miss you AT ALL!

Satoru: Why, oh why, did you dye your hair white if you claim not to miss me, baby? Is it some secret signal to the hair gods that you're ready to experience the adventure of life without my captivating presence? Or perhaps it's your way of channeling the wisdom of Gandalf and Dumbledore, hoping that your newly snowy locks will grant you magical powers to forget all about me?

You: Hold your horses, chatterbox! My hair has turned snowy white without any meddling from me. No, I didn't secretly sprinkle it with magic hair dye while cackling like a mischievous sorcerer, you idiot!

Satoru: Whoopsie daisy! You've got a point there. Did I accidentally step on your delicate feelings, wise and experienced grandma?

In a grand display of determination, you muster every ounce of strength to grab the pillow behind your back, preparing to launch it at him. Alas, it seems the strength of a thousand paperclips has possessed your hands, rendering them feeble and incapable of fulfilling your pillow-throwing dreams. The valiant effort leaves you gasping for air as if you have just completed a marathon of pillow-tossing.

Satoru: Yowai mo!

He erupts into laughter, showcasing his undeniable talent as a professional tease.

You: Cut the crapola! Spill the beans! What on earth has brought you to this neck of the woods?

With your firm tone that could rival a drill sergeant's, the machine begins beeping faster than a sugar-rushed hummingbird on roller skates. It's as if the beeps are making their best impression of a hyperactive jazz band, matching the frantic tempo of your skyrocketing heart rates.

Satoru: I'll be rolling on the floor in laughter if you drop dead from the sheer intensity of your anger, Granny. Let's be real; finding inner peace is way more beneficial for you in the long run. Just saying!

You: Satoru!

Satoru: Yep, that's me. Breaking hearts and taking names. Can't a poor soul like me simply pay a visit to my dear wife on her deathbed?

You: Hell to the no! You can't just waltz in our life whenever you please! Sorry, but you lost that VIP visiting privilege when you—

Satoru: Oh, and on that note, could that charming chick who graced you with her presence earlier be our beloved daughter?

You sigh, exasperated, and gently rub your forehead as if trying to coax that headache into submission. Ah, the joys of a headache that seems set on conquering you before any actual sickness does. With a dramatic sweep of your hand across your face, you channel your inner drama queen and then grab your neck.

You: Oh, please, for the love of all that is awkward, just tell me that you didn't try to work your "smooth moves" on her.

Satoru: I was this close to making a move, you know? She's like a spitting image of when I was head over heels for you! It's like you've managed to clone yourself or something. Should I be worried? Did you secretly stash away all my precious genes and hoard them for your own amusement? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to keep all those sperms to yourself! But seriously, she doesn't look like me at all. I am hurt!

He pouts like a baby, forever stuck in his eternal state of immaturity, but you aren't about to let that deter you. With an air of defiance, you casually lean against the hospital bed board, gazing intently at the serum making its grand entrance into your veins. Oh, and that obnoxious machine chiming away? You can't help but wish it could just shut up.

You: It's actually better for her, you know. At least she doesn't have anything that serves as a constant reminder of her absent father, who couldn't even be bothered to be present during her birth!

Your words are like a sarcasm waterfall, cascading with vicious wit. You've mastered the art of tongue-in-cheek remarks, and while you're fully aware of their potency, you couldn't care less. It's like you've got a license to sass, and you're not afraid to use it, even if it makes the world say, "Well, ain't you a delightful ray of sunshine!"

Satoru: Let's not paint the picture as if I had some glamorous options! Nope, I was bestowed with the honor of being the designated problem-solver, the one expected to handle it all while gracefully tiptoeing through—

You: Oh, pretty please! If it's not too much trouble, continue your reign as the honored one through heaven and earth, while sparing me from any additional bouts of annoyance. I must say, it's quite the talent you possess—being both honored and a master of irritation. Quite the balancing act, I must admit!

As you clench the blanket in desperation, that rebellious needle gleefully plunges itself into your hand. Fuck unexpected pain! And there, decorating your arm like a chilling masterpiece, are the bruises—trophy marks from your encounters with the needle army. Who knew injections could become an avant-garde art form? With tears welling up and the air growing thinner, it feels like the room is leaving you gasping for breath just to have a twisted sort of fun. Bravo, universe, for your fucked up sense of humor! A standing ovation for this macabre spectacle.

Satoru: Love?

You: …

Satoru: Baby?

You: …

Satoru: My Wondrous Whipped Cream Warrior, the Caramel Crusader, the Sprinkle Spritzer, the Marshmallow Maestro, the Treat Tornado, the Sugar Rush Superstar, the Jelly-filled Joy Bringer, and the Sweetness Sorceress who turns my world into a Never-ending Dessert Buffet! The Honeyed Pussy of—

You: WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, SATORU?

You are wheezing like a chain-smoking asthmatic, desperately gasping for air, and his attitude is about as helpful as a wet matchstick. You and the mysteries of poor life choices! What possessed you, in that twisted moment of madness, to willingly plunge into the depths of infatuation with him? It's a dark, twisted enigma that not even the Grim Reaper could decipher.

Satoru: Are you still mad?

As you tilt your head, there he is, looking at you with those big, blue eyes, like a lost poppy desperately trying to win the "Most Heart-Melting Flower" award. What a sneaky trickster! He knows exactly what he is doing, employing his secret weapon of irresistible gazes, and darn it; it works like a charm! You can't resist the powers of those eyes, and you reluctantly surrender, cursing his effective tactics while secretly admiring his diabolical brilliance. Well played, Mr. Blue-Eyed Mother Fucker, well played.

You: I never stopped being mad at you!

Satoru: Fair, but you have to know that—

You: Spare me the creative excuses, please! You pulled off the greatest magic trick of all—knocking me up—and then poof! You disappeared into thin air, leaving me with a growing belly and a bewildered expression. Good job, Houdini!

Satoru: You're welcome, baby. But you've got to cut me some slack here! My job description practically has "Accident Enthusiast" written all over it. It's not like I wake up in the morning, rubbing my hands together, thinking, "Oh boy, I can't wait for another mishap!" So, let's blame it on my occupational hazard, shall we?

You: Oh, well, then, thank you so much for gracing us with your presence again! You chose to go down that path because, of course, you believed you were the one and only capable being in the universe. And oh, how lucky we are that you decided to leave me and our daughter behind. It's truly heartwarming to see you saunter back into our lives after years like it's just another casual stroll in the park. I mean, who needs a father figure during precious moments like birth, first words, and first steps, right? Clearly, you had more important things to attend to. Our daughter has grown up and gone through school, and I've had the pleasure of explaining why her dad couldn't be bothered to pick her up like those "normal" dads. Graduation, dating, first job—she did it all without you, and we couldn't be more grateful for your consistent absence. Now you have the audacity to—

You start coughing, and each painful gasp feels like your lungs are being ruthlessly ripped apart, leaving behind crimson stains on your once immaculate sheets and hands. And there he stands, towering tall, as handsome as the day he first stole your heart. It's just not fair that he still looks so good while sickness has mercilessly drained the life from your weary soul. He approaches you, the lingering scent of vanilla clinging to him, a bittersweet reminder of what you once cherished but now resentfully long for.

Satoru: Take a sip of water. Do you want me to help you?

Oh, he's all worried now, isn't he? But honestly, after enduring all that post-him misery, you're not about to let him off the hook just because he's offering a glass of water. Come on, you might be a little dumb, but you're not "drink-water-and-forget-all-the-pain" dumb! Nice try, buddy, but you'll need more than H2O to wash away the mess you left behind.

You: I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMN HELP! How about you kindly take a flying leap back to wherever you've been hiding all this time? I'm sure you've perfected your disappearing act by now. And don't forget to leave behind a trail of glittering resentment as you go, just to keep things spicy. Ta-ta, farewell, and may you step on a thousand Lego bricks on your way out!

Satoru: Listen up, partner in crime! I've had enough of leaving you to your own devices. It's been tough for me, too, and I sincerely apologize for piling on the hardship. But I learned my lesson! Starting right this very moment, I'm making a solemn vow never to ditch you again. Consider me your loyal sidekick, ready to tackle life's challenges together, even if it means enduring endless reruns of your favorite TV show or subjecting myself to your cooking experiments. We're in this for the long haul, love!

You use the sleeve of your flimsy, ridiculous gown to clumsily wipe away the blood from your mouth, all the while shooting him a perplexed look. Seriously, how on earth does he still manage to gaze at you with those doe eyes, all lovey-dovey, when you're rocking the vampire-on-a-sunlit-day aesthetic?

You: So, you decided to grace me with your presence just because I'm sick?

Satoru: Yes.

You: I see how it is! You're not here because you missed me, huh?

Satoru: Uh-oh, am I about to witness another round of your infamous anger? But hey, before you explode like a volcano, let me enlighten you that I didn't write the rulebook on how things work. Nope, not my area of expertise. Turns out, the universe didn't consult me when setting up the whole system. It seems they left me out of the committee meeting where they decided the rules of life. Classic!

You: Does it hurt?

Satoru: It hurt me badly because I snapped in half like a Kit-Kat bar. And no, there wasn't a delicious wafer filling in between, just pure pain and emotional wreckage.

You: Come on, Satoru! This is not the time for your quirky sense of humor. I mean, seriously, I saw your guts out in the open, and to top it off, ants decided to take a leisurely hike on them.

Satoru: TV producers really went all out with the graphic details, huh? Sure, I appreciate high-definition viewing, but did they need a close-up of my stuff? Talk about taking reality TV to a whole new level! I hope they provided a warning. Note to self: avoid snacking while watching shows that involve anatomical explorations!

You: SATORU!

Satoru: Alright, alright, no need to get serious! Can't a man crack a joke about his own death around here? Fine, I'll hold your hand during the whole thing. You know, I once spouted that cliché line about dying alone, but let's face it, that was a load of nonsense. Nobody goes down that final road solo. It's like a grand exit party!

You: Oh, really? So, you had some company, huh? Well, you know what they say: ignorance is bliss. I don't need the details, and my imagination can take a wild ride all on its own

Satoru: Jealousy looks good on you, love.

As he bends closer, his breath tickles your lips, making you wonder if he had onions for lunch. With a dramatic flourish, he grabs your chin as if auditioning for a cheesy romance movie. And then, like a vacuum cleaner on turbo mode, he plants a kiss that sucks the air right out of your lungs. It's like indulging in a dessert buffet filled with marshmallows, caramel, and insulin shots. Who needs a thrill ride at an amusement park when you can experience a sugar rush of epic proportions? You may be risking diabetes, but hey, at least you'll be leaving this world with a sweet tooth satisfied and an unforgettable, albeit comical, memory of that last smooch.

Unfortunately, after what feels like a fleeting eternity, he decides to break the kiss. As your eyes meet, you can't help but sneak a glance downwards, wondering if his pants harbored any surprises. Alas, it appears that either he's a master of disguise or ghosts have taught him their spectacular talent for concealment. Sneaky whores!

Satoru: Are you ready to go?

Oh, snap! Once the horniness fades away, reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Holy shit! How did you manage to forget about your daughter? Leaving her behind is definitely not the best parenting move. Time to snap back into responsible mode and give that little one the attention she deserves. Parenthood: where forgetfulness meets a reality check!

You: Will she be okay?

Satoru: She's our little munchkin. She'll be alright.

You: I want to see her for the last time.

Satoru: You can see her whenever you want.

You: WHAT?

He scratches his head, messing up his undercut, desperately trying to dodge eye contact like a game of social hide-and-seek.

Satoru: Ops! Did I just spill the beans on one of the perks of the afterlife? My bad! My master plan was to witness that priceless guilty expression on your face when we reached the pearly gates. Imagine your shock when you realized you blamed me for no reason, only to discover I had a front-row seat to all your shenanigans during all those years! Oh, the things I've seen! I know how many times you've touched yourself thinking about me! No judging, though! And yes, I know you secretly fumed when our little bundle of joy uttered "Dada" before "Mama." Don't worry, I won't tell a soul... except, you know, all the other souls up there. It's the ultimate celestial gossip!

You: WHAT? YOU KNOW EVERYTHING? THEN WHY THE FUCK YOU ASKED IF SHE'S OUR DAUGHTER?

Satoru: First, just to tickle your pickle. Second, as I cunningly planned.

You: You're still a brat!

Satoru: And you're still as beautiful as the day I lost you.

You: Smooth words, my friend, but let's not kid ourselves. I won't buy into any deceit. I'm old, wrinkled, and sick. Time and disease are killing me, just as you hated. Meanwhile, you continue to flaunt that glorious chiseled chest and those rock-hard butt cheeks.

Satoru: Thank you, ma'am, for keeping my ass in your thoughts. Speaking of which, I must confess I've made some boneheaded decisions along the way. Opting for death in the name of someone else can seem like a breeze compared to the complexity of choosing to live for them. So, kudos to you for being the badass who faced life's challenges to honor my memory.

You: I hope this is not just a dream.

Satoru: We can give it a try and see for ourselves.

As Satoru reaches out his hand, something extraordinary unfolds—the machine starts beeping. You look at the device, noticing that the time between beeps gradually increases. But then, your gaze shifts to your cherished spouse, the man whose absence has left an indelible void within you. The man with whom you would have fearlessly confronted doomsday on that fateful December 24th in 2018, had it not been for the fact that you were carrying his last trace of existence, a precious legacy nestled within your very being.

You: You feel so warm.

Satoru: Some things never change.

His hand gracefully slides towards your waist, triggering a chain reaction of chaos. Those pesky wires and tubes that were so dutifully attached to you? Well, they decide it's time for a break and go on a wild unplugging spree. It's like a rebellious dance party of freedom for those little connectors! And just when you thought things couldn't get any more exciting, your feet are about to touch the chilly floor, ready to embark on an unplanned adventure.

You: Hold up! Fetch my wheelchair for me!

Satoru: You don't need it anymore.

As you place your feet on the floor, you can't help but chuckle at the fact that your knees manage to hold up, allowing you to stand upright. The machines emit a continuous beeping sound, indicating a flat line on the monitor. Suddenly, the door swings open, and a troupe of nurses storm into the room. They swiftly gather around your motionless body lying on the bed. One nurse examines your vital signs, another administers an injection into your vein, and a third retrieves a machine to deliver cardiac shocks in an attempt to revive you. Witnessing these intense moments, you hold Satoru's hand tighter.

You: I don't want to come back.

Satoru: Are you sure?

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes and trickle down your cheeks as you gaze at him.

You: Yeah. I've spent more time living with your memory than I've had the opportunity to live alongside you.

Satoru's grip on your hand intensifies like he's determined to etch his touch into your very being. He lifts your hand delicately, planting a tender kiss upon it. Drawing you closer to him, he envelopes you in an embrace, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. With gentle affection, he presses a kiss upon the crown of your head, leaning his head upon yours.

As teardrops trickle onto your head, you find yourself clinging to him desperately, as if trying to hold onto the fragments of a shattered existence. In that agonizing moment, the harsh reality of his unfulfilled roles crashes down upon you like a relentless wave. He has endured the torment of being a husband bereft of a wife, a father denied a child, and a sensei forsaken his students.

Satoru: I will never let go of you anymore.

You: Is this just another one of those "oops, my bad" promises? You know, like when you swore to be to hold me for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?

Satoru: Heyyy! I held you till death do us part. I even remember, the night before my, um, grand finale, I held you so good that you had spread your legs, moaning my name and begging me to hold you harder.

Just as you are ready to break free from his grasp and deliver a well-deserved bonk on his clueless head, the scene takes an unexpected turn. Your doctor rushes into the room and towards your bed, barking orders left and right, and proceeds to administer yet another mysterious injection into your poor, defenseless vein.

Deciding to redirect your attention, you avert your gaze and catch sight of your reflection in the nearby window. To your astonishment, your hair has magically reverted to its former glory, defying the clutches of time. Wrinkles? Vanished as if a skilled magician performed a grand disappearing act. You're suddenly transported back to the good ol' days of youthfulness. Bewildered, you inspect your once-bruised hands, only to find them as flawless as a newborn's.

You: Satoru? What's—

Satoru: I know, right? It turns out one of the unexpected bonuses of kicking the bucket is that you get to rock your sexiest form once again. So, brace yourself because I won't behave when you sashay around in that gorgeous drop-dead gown. I can't keep it in my pants till we arrive and I start making cream pies and babies with you!

You: Oh, my goodness! Does it actually work in the afterlife as well?

Satoru: You're referring to my... um, dick? Let me tell you, it still has the same old magic, if not a little extra pizzazz! It's like a fine wine, aging gracefully and delivering peak performance in the afterlife. Who knew there would be such perks beyond the grave?

You: No, idiot! I mean babies!

Satoru: How should I know? I made sure to wear a condom during my frisky encounters with angels.

You can't help but release an exasperated breath, causing your ears to turn as red as a tomato in a sauna. The thought of giving him a good old-fashioned strangling and sending him off to the after-afterlife has you chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

Satoru: Would it tickle your funny bone if I threw caution to the wind and played a game of "heavenly roulette" with unprotected encounters, potentially earning myself some out-of-this-world STD souvenirs?

With a masterful brow raise and a world-class eye roll, you are all set to deliver the ultimate "exit stage left" move. But he pulls off the ultimate surprise maneuver and hits you with the "Hold up, wait a minute" move. He has a secret superpower to freeze you in your snarky tracks! Goddammit! Those puppy eyes again.

Satoru: I was joking, okay? I just jerked off while watching your showering or self-exploration activities. I mean, fingering yourself while calling my name. That's it! Okay? Also, we should have a talk about that dildo you named Hollow Purple!

You: So, it seems you shamelessly watched everything, hm?

Satoru: Yes. Absolutely! I had a lot of spare time to slay, and, hey, let's not divert our attention from the Hollow Purple subject, you dirty little mouse!

You: God! Kill me already!

Satoru: Why? You're just itching to infiltrate the kingdom of my pants, aren't you?

You: You know what? I've had a change of heart. I'd rather try my chances with cosmic sickness than spend an eternity with your delightful company!

Satoru: Goodness gracious! You and your fiery temper! How on earth did you manage to cast a spell on me, making me fall for you?

You: It's common knowledge among our friends that everybody should bow down to your shameless expertise in the art of begging!

Satoru: Is that so?

He displays a smug smirk, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Satoru: Well, we can ask when we see them.

Your eyes go from their regular setting to full-on "wide-angle lens" mode, capturing the world in all its wide-eyed wonder. It is as if someone presses the "zoom" button on your peepers, revealing a comical level of astonishment.

You: They are there, too?

Satoru: Oh boy, buckle up for Nanamin's epic rage when he discovers our fashionably late entrance!

You: Well, chop-chop! Time to hit the road! We wouldn't want to unleash the wrath of the entire afterlife just because your chatty ass decided to go on such a long monologue!

He leans in and gently kisses your forehead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guides you towards the door. As you both stand at the doorway, you cast a lingering gaze upon the nurses and doctor, who seem to have thrown in the towel on their attempts to revive you.

Satoru: I can't wait to spook everyone alongside you. You'll forever be my always.

Author's Note: I had an absolute blast writing this.

@enchantedforest-network 🤍

[violet-1atte]

Candy Cane Mocha

this is very late...oops

Summary: After being in America for six years, Jisung returns to South Korea for the holidays and reunites with his best friend and ex lover, Minho

Tags: Minsung, Christmas, holiday, exes to lovers, getting back together, fluff, Minho is whipped, Jisung is whipped, smut, bottom!Jisung, top!Minho

AO3 Link

Six years. Six years since Han Jisung had left South Korea to go study abroad in the United States. Six years since he had seen any family other than his parents. Six years since he had been home. 

It was a good six years. In that time, he had improved dramatically in his English speaking skills, made new friends, lost friends, had relationships (although largely unsatisfying), and more hookups than he could count. He had finished college and was working on getting his name known as a producer alongside his friends Chan and Changbin who were transfer students just like him. It wasn’t that he had intentionally stayed away so long. Life had just taken over and he never had the time to plan a trip back. 

This year, he decided it was time. He had some vacation time saved up from work and honestly, he missed it. The States had their own charms, but he would still get an ache in his chest, yearning for his small hometown in South Korea even six years later. That was why he planned a four week vacation to visit his family for Christmas and see them for as much time as possible. 

As he waited for his parents to pick him up at the airport, a nervous excitement bubbled in his stomach. His parents had come to visit him while he had been gone, but it had been so long since he had been home, he didn’t know what to expect. What had changed? What had stayed the same? Did his parents keep his old bedroom in the same state he left it or did they clear it out? Did the same people live in his neighborhood or had they all left like Jisung six years before? If the same people were there, would they remember Jisung? And if they remembered him, what would they think of him? Was his ex still living here or had he left too? Jisung didn’t know whether he wanted him to be there or not. Would it be a crime to say he missed him even though it had been so long? 

There were so many questions Jisung had, and they all left his mind the moment he saw his parents. They hugged him and he hugged them back harder. His mom nearly cried, cupped his cheeks, and whined about how he was, “Too skinny.” His chest filled with warmth and for a moment he forgot all of his worries about returning. 

When he got home, his mother started preparing dinner. “I also got cheesecake for you,” she said, and Jisung’s mouth watered. “I thought you might like a little treat after that ridiculously long flight.” 

Jisung pressed his lips together, a knot forming in his throat. “Thank you, eomma,” he said softly. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” 

“Oh no need,” his mother stated with a wave of her hand. “You appa will be helping me anyway. You should go and rest before dinner. I know you must be exhausted.” 

At the suggestion of rest, the fatigue hit Jisung’s body and his limbs felt too heavy for him to carry. He was exhausted. The jetlag was going to hit him hard and being on the plane for so many hours had taken it out of him. “Okay. I think I will go up to my room and rest for a bit,” he said with a smile. 

“Good! I’ll call you when dinner’s done.” 

Jisung grabbed his suitcases he had set down and made his way up the stairs to his old bedroom. His chest tightened as he took in the layout of the house, the same as it had always been. Family pictures lined the walls and he cringed at the school photo from his sophomore year where he was wearing thick rimmed glasses and had bright blue braces on his teeth. 

When he opened his bedroom door, he was suddenly eighteen again–unsure of himself, apprehensive of the future, mourning the end of his high school relationship–everything was exactly as he had left it, albeit a bit cleaner. The shelf full of manga he had left thinking it would be too immature to bring with him still remained, as did the shelf of figurines below that. His old posters were still on his wall, only the corners were curled in. His bed was made but he had no idea if it was with the same set he had made it with when he left. Knowing his mom and her affinity for cleanliness, probably not. But it didn’t even matter. It was all so similar that the wave of memories it brought back was almost too much for Jisung to handle. 

Going to sleep was the easiest solution to dampening the onslaught of emotionally-charged memories that being home produced. It didn’t take long for him to doze off either, and he only awoke when his father called to him from the bottom of the steps. He did a double take when he woke up, absorbing his surroundings in confusion before he relaxed. It was like stepping back into the past. 

As they sat down to dinner and Jisung filled his plate, his earlier questions came rushing back. “Has the town changed much since I’ve been gone? I remember you said they added a new shelter here,” Jisung started. There had always been stray cats and dogs wandering around his neighborhood when he was a kid, so the addition of a shelter was extremely welcome. 

“Not too much, honestly,” his father said with a shrug. “You know how it is around here. Nothing much to write home about.” He laughed softly, and Jisung was reminded how much he had missed the sound. Even though his parents came to visit, it had still been over a year. “We’ve had a couple families move out here and there, a couple move in. But it’s mostly the same.” 

Jisung nodded softly and then his mother got a lightbulb look on her face. “Oh! But this new coffee shop opened recently. About a year ago, I think. It’s such a cute little place, really gives the village an extra homey feel to it. It’s actually run by–” 

His father cleared his throat and gave his wife a pointed look. “It is really lovely,” he agreed. “You should check it out. We won’t be here tomorrow since I’ll be working at the office and your eomma will be at the shelter, so it’d give you something to do,” he suggested. 

Jisung wanted to ask about what his mom was going to say before she was cut off, but he decided it probably wasn’t important. He simply smiled and nodded at the suggestion. “That does sound nice. I’ve always loved places like that. Maybe I can work on some lyrics while I’m there.” He didn’t write music as much as he produced but there were still some artists he needed to work on lyrics for. Cafes and coffee shops were the best place to do work like that. 

“Good!” his mother said with a sweet smile. “I’m sure you’ll love it.” And contrary to what his younger self believed, she was often right, so Jisung believed her. 

“I’m sure I will,” he responded. 

His parents shared a look that he couldn’t interpret but then the topic shifted and he forgot about the entire exchange, other than the fact that he needed to visit the cafe. 

As much as Jisung loved winter, the wind nipping at his already numb cheeks was not his favorite thing. He pulled his scarf up just a bit higher so that it covered the bottoms of his cheeks and he rubbed his gloved hands over his skin. He reasoned that at least he would have a warm drink and a cozy coffee shop to sit in soon and all the wind and icy temperatures would be worth it. Thankfully, the shop was not too far away from his home and he was able to admire all the Christmas lights and decorations that lined the streets. Even if he was cold on the outside, he felt warm on the inside. 

The coffee shop was not easy to miss. He noticed it as soon as he came upon the building. The outside was decorated with garland and icicle lights and there was a large sign on the front that read, Lino’s Coffee and Tea in cursive lettering. The same title was printed across the two big windows in the front. The door was painted red and had a large wreath hanging on it, which Jisung admired for a moment before he opened the door. 

A quiet chime went off as Jisung pushed the door open and a delicious concoction of scents hit his nose as soon as he stepped inside. Rich coffee mixed with cinnamon and the smell of sweet pastries, and it made Jisung’s mouth water. There was no one standing at the counter, but there were a few patrons sitting at various tables, sipping on lattes and snacking on expertly prepared pastries. The display at the counter caught Jisung’s eye immediately, and while he had originally been planning on just getting a coffee, the sight of a cheesecake with a spiral of red strawberries around the edge and drizzles of chocolate over the top caught his eye. 

From inside the kitchen, someone called, “I’ll be with you in a minute!” and for a second, the voice sounded extremely familiar, but Jisung couldn’t place it. 

That was, until the owner of the voice stepped out. In an instant Jisung’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell agape. Deep-set brown eyes, rose-petal mouth, sharp jawline, the most perfect nose he had ever seen–he would recognize that face anywhere. 

The same look of recognition passed over the other man’s face and after a few seconds, his shocked expression softened and he smiled softly. “Jisung-ah,” he said, and Jisung’s stomach flipped when his name rolled off his tongue. His voice held the same, gentle warmth that it always had when he spoke to him. But that had been so long ago.

“Minho-hyung,” he breathed. 

He had not seen Minho in six years and it had been four or five since he had last spoken to him. He couldn’t exactly remember.  But at one point, they had been best friends. And before that, Minho had been his boyfriend. 

They started dating when Minho was in his senior year of high-school and Jisung was in his junior year. They had been friends since 7th grade and Minho was his first kiss. His first everything. Minho never intended to go to college so he was still around even as Jisung was in his senior year. But when Jisung graduated, that's when everything changed. They started having more disagreements, more tension, and less romance. Part of that was fueled by the fact that Jisung had applied to a college in the United States and was fully planning on attending. Minho acted like it would be okay and he would be fine, that they would be fine, but it was clear he was having a difficult time handling it. In the end, they both agreed to break up and go back to being friends. 

As time went on though, they progressively started talking less and less. The major time difference coupled with Jisung’s busy life and their past put a rift between them and at one point, one of them sent the last message. Jisung couldn't remember who, but he had a feeling it was him. 

"It's been a while," Minho said, bringing Jisung back to the present. "How long has it been?" 

"Gosh." Jisung rubbed the back of his neck. "Six years? Yeah. Six years. It's been a long while." 

"It has," Minho agreed with a nod. He was rocking back and forth–Jisung could imagine him bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was something he often did when he was excited or nervous. Jisung didn't know what to do with either of those things. “What are you doing back here?” 

“I’m here to visit my parents and just visit…home,” he answered, hesitating at the word “home.” “I’ve been saving up vacation time and money. So I was finally able to travel.” 

Minho hummed softly. “That’s good. Really good.” And really, Jisung couldn’t agree more.

"How have you been? Is this your place?" Jisung asked, gesturing around to the coffee shop. "Fuck wait–Lino? Is that you? Lee Minho? " 

A smile bloomed across Minho’s face and Jisung’s heart stuttered in his chest. Oh shit. It was just as beautiful as he had always remembered it. Even more so. He still had the same lopsided grin, the same slightly crooked front teeth. 

Jisung’s stomach felt like a whole zoo. 

"Yeah, this is my place. I opened it up about two years ago. I was working to open it for a while before though. The idea came to me when you–" Minho cleared his throat and glanced down. When you left, Jisung gathered. "I didn't really know what to do with myself. You know I was kind of directionless for a while…well I knew I didn't want to leave, and I loved baking and coffee, so it just made sense." 

Picturing Minho putting so much work into this little coffee shop–spending hours developing recipes, saving money to open–made Jisung's chest fill with warmth. He had always been such a hard worker and Jisung had always admired him for it. That hadn't changed. "Well it's beautiful. And everything–everything smells amazing and looks–wow. I can't believe you did this all on your own. It's spectacular. Wow." Jisung couldn't help his exclamations of awe. It really was amazing. The inside of the coffee shop was honestly beautiful, decorated for Christmas just like the outside. He hadn't even noticed the Christmas tree in a corner of the shop until he started looking around as he attempted a coherent compliment. 

Minho laughed, soft and bright, and it was the most beautiful sound Jisung had ever heard. Wow, he had missed him. It was insane how fast he felt comfortable around him again. “Thank you, I’m glad you like it,” he said genuinely. “Ah, I’m taking up your time. You probably have things to do. What can I get you, Jisung-ah?” 

“No, no, it’s okay! I was just gonna chill here for a bit, work on some song lyrics, you’re good,” Jisung said, waving his hand. “I think I’ll take a large candy cane mocha, and…a slice of that cheesecake there,” he said, pointing at the cheesecake on the display. A knowing grin spread across Minho’s face and he nodded as he typed Jisung’s order into a little keypad on the counter. 

“You never change,” he mumbled, the smile still on his face. 

Jisung’s cheeks warmed and he bit his lip. In the past, Jisung got cheesecake on every outing he possibly could, and it was his dessert of choice on dates. He didn’t respond as he paid, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that Minho remembered. 

A few other people entered the shop as Jisung waited for Minho to finish his drink and get his dessert but Jisung’s eyes were focused on Minho. Over the years, Minho’s appearance had matured so much and he had grown into his features in a way that made him even more beautiful, which Jisung hadn’t thought possible when they were together in high school. 

When Minho handed Jisung his drink and his plate of cheesecake, their fingertips brushed. Minho didn’t seem to notice, but the contact sent sparks up Jisung’s arm. He needed to remind himself that this was his ex. His ex he had not spoken to in years. There was no reason for him to be reacting to him this way. None. 

Except, as he thanked Minho and began to move to find a table to sit at, Minho called out to him. “Jisung-ah,” he began, then clenched his fists on the edge of the counter, “it’s good to see you again. I…I missed you.” And oh this was not good for Jisung’s poor, lonely heart. 

He hadn’t realized how much of an ache there had been in his heart until it lifted, eased by Minho’s presence, his words. He swallowed a lump in his throat and inhaled. “I missed you too, hyung.” 

-

Minho and Jisung’s breakup had been Minho’s idea. It was mutual, and Jisung agreed to it almost immediately. That fact only made it harder for Minho, though. When he brought it up, part of him hoped that Jisung would fight for him, that he would say they could work things out, that distance wouldn’t destroy the love they had. Instead, he smiled a little sadly and nodded. “I think…I think that might be for the best.” 

No one knew that Minho spent every night for the next month crying after that. 

Years before, when his last message was left on read by the younger, Minho resigned himself to never seeing Jisung ever again. He reasoned that it was for the best, that it would help him move on and finally get settled with his life. And it had helped, even if not at first. It allowed him to focus more on planning for his cafe and that’s what he did; he threw himself into work like he never had before. In the end, it was worth it. He had a beautiful coffee shop that made a good profit and made the townsfolk happy. He was happy and he was settled. Sometimes he still thought of Jisung, wondered how he was doing and what he would say if he knew how successful Minho’s dream had become. But for the most part, Jisung was out of his mind. 

And then he walked into Minho’s shop and right back into his life. Nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of emotions that hit him the moment he laid eyes on Jisung. He looked the same as he always had, but he had grown up. His jaw was sharper but his cheeks were just as full. He had a few new piercings on his ears and his hair was lavender instead of the deep brown he had left with. Minho felt the same way he had felt when Jisung first held his hand, only this time the feeling choked him. 

Despite the cocktail of emotions swirling through Minho’s head, talking to Jisung was easy. As easy as it had always been. They just clicked like that. It felt like they had never stopped talking, like Jisung had never left. But at the end of the day, he had. It had been years, they were both adults, they had both been through things neither of them knew about in the time since they’d last spoken. In a way, they were practically strangers. 

And yet, Jisung looked so happy to see him. 

The interaction was something Minho couldn’t keep out of his head. It took everything in his power not to look at Jisung the entire time he was sitting at his table. He had to remind himself that things had changed, time had passed, Jisung probably had a girlfriend or a boyfriend back in America. 

Perhaps they could be friends. 

Minho had deleted his chat with Jisung a while ago but he still had his contact. He could never bring himself to delete it or block him. He had no reason to. Things had just faded out and they didn’t even end on a necessarily bad note, no matter how heartbroken Minho had been. Circumstance just brought them to that point. But now that he had seen Jisung again and he was in the area, likely staying with his parents, then there was a chance Minho could text him again and they could hang out. 

Unfortunately, Minho was scared. He was worried Jisung didn’t actually want anything to do with him and he would turn him down and he would be stuck in a pit of his own embarrassment. He needed to test the waters first. Jisung would likely be there until Christmas at least so he had time. 

What he had not been expecting was for Jisung to come into the shop almost every day from that point. The second day he came in and told him how his parents were the ones who told him to come to the coffee shop and how much they loved it. Minho realized he would have to give them a personal thank you for bringing Jisung back to him. That day he ordered a candy cane mocha again, saying that while he usually just went for an Americano, it was Christmas time so he wanted to be more festive. He had also had a larger sweet tooth lately. 

He didn’t come in the next day, but he showed up the day after that, getting a simple Americano that time. One day he came in and didn’t even order anything, just said he liked the environment and it was relaxing to write music there. Minho caught him looking at him at least five times while he was working behind the counter; there was no excuse for the way it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

Around a week from the first day he came in, Jisung showed up again when it was an hour before closing and he ordered a chocolate filled croissant and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. Minho gave him a little extra just because he could. And instead of leaving to sit at a table and write lyrics like he had the days before, Jisung stayed at the counter so he could talk to Minho in between customers. It was a slow day, so Minho was grateful for the company, especially since it was Jisung’s company. But he wouldn’t admit that out loud just yet. He didn’t talk about anything important, mostly just different anime he had watched recently and what some of the genres he had been working on were, but Minho held on to every word. 

The time rolled around for Minho to close up, and it made his chest ache as he thought of telling Jisung he was closing for the evening, but Jisung beat him to the topic instead. “I could help you clean up, if you want,” he suggested. 

Minho’s heart soared before it landed back on earth and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure you have things to do. I can handle it on my own,” he reassured him. 

Jisung’s bottom lip pushed out in a pout. It made Minho’s knees weak. Fuck, he was even worse off than he had been in the past. “I want to help though. You work here all by yourself and it’s gotta be hard, even if that’s what you usually do.” 

“I have help sometimes,” Minho said with a shrug. Jisung was still pouting and if Minho were a stronger man, he would tell him to go anyway and insist he could do it on his own like he always had. But Minho was incredibly weak. “Alright, fine. But don’t expect to get paid, this is volunteer work.” 

Jisung’s pout turned into a wide smile and he hopped off of his seat. “I know, don’t worry. I just wanted to help.” 

He shuffled behind the counter and suddenly Minho was keenly aware of the fact that since Jisung walked in two days ago, he hadn’t interacted with him without the barrier of the counter between him. Now it felt real–Jisung was actually here and not a figment of Minho’s imagination. He swallowed thickly. 

“Alright, if you want, you can just wipe down the counters and tables. I know where everything goes so I’ll take down the display.” He gestured for Jisung to follow him into the back and handed him a cloth and cleaning agent for the surfaces around the shop. 

“Sounds good to me, Minho-hyung,” Jisung said with a soft smile. He took the supplies from Minho and went back out to the front to begin wiping down the various tables and countertops. Minho watched him for a minute as he went, something tugging at his chest. He gave himself two firm pats over his heart and mumbled, “Shut up,” under his breath. 

They cleaned in relative silence. Occasionally, Jisung would break the silence by humming a melody Minho didn’t recognize under his breath. It was comfortable. This was how they always worked, Minho remembered it clearly. Silence didn’t bother either of them. They didn’t need to talk to fill some imaginary gap–each other’s presence was enough. 

With help, cleaning did go by faster. Jisung was efficient and even helped him sweep and mop so Minho could focus on fixing everything else that needed to be dealt with. 

The December sky was dark when they stepped out onto the street but the sidewalks were lit by lamps and colorful Christmas lights. Under the subtle glow, Minho could see the gentle flush on Jisung’s round cheeks. “Let me walk you home,” Minho suggested before he could think better of it. 

Jisung tilted his head at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Do you even remember where I live?” 

“I could never forget,” Minho admitted. He had walked past it a few times over the years and would sometimes pause in front for a moment, hoping that somehow Jisung would come through the front door. 

Jisung hummed, contemplating, and then nodded. “Okay, yeah. I could use some company on the way, if it’s not too much trouble.” He wrapped his scarf around himself, obscuring the bottom half of his face. 

“No trouble,” Minho reassured. “I’ve got nothing to do anyway." What he didn't say was that he just wanted to spend more time with Jisung. He didn’t want to go home and reminisce about the past while wishing he had just spent more time with Jisung. He didn’t even know how much time Jisung would be spending in Korea. He needed to get every second he could, even if it was the last he would ever see of him. 

The streets were fairly busy with cars and the sidewalks with people leaving work, but if anyone asked Minho later, he could only remember the two of them. They walked back together, closer than needed. They didn’t hold hands, but they came pretty damn close with the way their arms would brush together every few steps. Jisung either didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t mind. 

After they had walked a few blocks, thick flakes of snow fluttered down onto the sidewalk beneath their feet. Jisung’s eyes widened at the sight and he let out a soft gasp as more snowflakes joined in. “Oh my gosh snow! Wow, it's so pretty. Where I live in America doesn’t have much snow. This is exciting,” he said, skipping a little as he walked. 

“A little Christmas gift from the universe then,” Minho commented with a chuckle. Jisung’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at the sky and the Christmas lights reflected off them and cast a warm glow on his face. Minho was reminded that Jisung’s favorite season was winter. This walk may have been enough to make it Minho’s favorite, too. 

Jisung caught at least ten snowflakes on his tongue before they arrived at his house. Minho, unfortunately, only caught them in his eyes. But it was worth it to witness the joy on Jisung’s face. 

They paused at the door before Jisung went inside; it painfully reminded Minho of the first kiss he shared with Jisung after a walk similar to this–only that was on a warm summer evening and they were both hot and tired and so inexperienced–Minho thought that if they were to share a kiss now, it would be much better. He thought he saw Jisung’s eyes flick to his lips, but then the look was gone, Jisung meeting his eyes. “Thank you for walking me home,” Jisung said with a soft smile. 

“Of course.” Minho clenched his fists in his pockets. “Jisung-ah–I’ve been enjoying spending time with you at the coffee shop—” He watched Jisung’s face fall for a split second before he continued, “but I want to spend more time with you, if that’s okay? I know we stopped talking and it’s okay if you don’t want to but—” 

“I want to,” Jisung interrupted. “We can talk about all of that another time, I know I…I need to say some things. But I do want to.” 

Minho let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Okay. Okay then. I’ll text you. I still have your contact.” Was that embarrassing to admit? Minho realized he didn’t care. 

“Oh…that’s–that’s good. Yeah. Text me. I’ll make sure I find a time.” 

“Perfect.” Minho knew his excitement was poorly concealed but this was Han Jisung. Han Jisung who used to be his Han Jisung. “I’ll let you go in now, it’s fucking freezing. And I think my fingers are turning into popsicles.” 

Jisung laughed and shook his head. “Well you better warm them up then. I’ll see you later, Minho.” He waved and then in a blink of an eye, he was on the other side of the door. 

Minho sighed and a shiver wracked his body. Fuck it was cold. 

-

Minho messaged Jisung the next morning. Jisung was sitting in his living room, sipping a mug of hot chocolate, when his phone made a loud ping! He nearly dropped it when he attempted to pick it up to check who had messaged him and his stomach flipped when he saw the contact name. He hadn’t changed it since they had last messaged. 

Minho-hyungie

10:27am When are you free? 

Jisung 

10:28am I’m free almost any time this week :) My fam still has to work until Christmas So lonely (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥��)

Minho-hyungie

10:32am Later today then? I’ll ask my friend Felix to watch over the shop until close 

Jisung 

10:33am Reallyy? What are we gonna do? 

Minho-hyungie

10:36am Mm it’s a surprise 

Jisung 

10:36am Sounds suspicious You aren’t gonna murder me are you? 

Minho-hyungie

10:37am I already have the dumpster where i’ll dump your body in mind 

Jisung 

10:39am (°△°|||) Scary 

Minho-hyungie

10:40amI’ll pick you up at 2? 

Jisung 

10:41am I’ll be ready! 

Minho-hyungie

10:42am Make sure to wear warm clothes 

When Minho came to pick Jisung up, he pestered him the entire time, begging him to tell where they were going. But Minho wouldn’t budge, even when Jisung used his biggest, saddest eyes possible. That had gotten him so many things in life so it was entirely too frustrating that it didn’t work on Minho in the moment. But Minho apparently had developed a resolve of steel over the years so he could not be persuaded. 

It was only when they actually arrived that Jisung realized the surprise was worth it. Minho was taking him ice-skating. Something he hadn’t done in years. 

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed, eyes blowing wide as he turned to Minho. “You’re amazing.” 

“I know I am,” Minho said with a playful grin. 

Surveying the skating rink, Jisung was hit with memories from the last time he went ice skating. He and Minho were still together at the time. It was an icy winter day, colder than this one. Minho had surprised him then too. The only real difference was that it was closer to Christmas then and of course they were holding hands and sharing soft, giggly kisses every time one of them slipped. It was a memory Jisung had totally forgotten until now. He wondered if Minho remembered that too, if this location and the surprise had been intentional. He tried not to think about it. Things were different now. They were different now. 

Yet, when he looked at Minho and he smiled at him with the same soft fondness in his eyes as he did years ago, Jisung wondered if they really were so different. 

“Still remember how to skate?” Minho asked as they walked to get their skates. Jisung rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Pft, of course. It’s like riding a bike, right?” 

It was not like riding a bike. 

The moment Jisung was on the ice he was slipping and sliding everywhere except where he actually wanted to go. His arms flailed around and his legs slid across the ice in opposite directions, forcing him into a near split before he landed gracelessly on his butt. His lips jutted out in an exaggerated pout as Minho doubled over laughing, clutching his sides like Jisung’s pain was the funniest thing he had ever laid eyes on. “You are not amazing. I just changed my mind. Stop laughing! ” he whined. 

Minho let out a little “ah” as he finally caught his breath and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hannie. You were just so confident.” Hannie. He hadn’t called him that in a while. 

Minho eased towards him on his own skates and held his hand out for Jisung to take. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips but he took his hand anyway. Unfortunately, even with Minho holding his hand, he was still unsteady on his feet and they nearly slipped out from under him as he stood so he went colliding into Minho’s chest. 

Warm arms went around his waist, holding him steady. Jisung inhaled a shaky breath, his nose filling with the scent of Minho’s cologne. It was something vanilla and sweet and it made Jisung a little dizzy. “Careful,” Minho chastised, his voice so gentle and warm that it melted over Jisung like caramel. “Hold onto me and I’ll help you.” 

It wasn’t good for Jisung to be this close to Minho. His ex and ex best friend. It wasn’t good for his sanity or his heart but Jisung was selfish. It was okay anyway, right? He was just helping him skate. So he nodded, not trusting the sound of his own voice now that he’d had real physical contact with Minho and had smelled his sugary cologne. 

“Okay, wrap your arm around me.” 

Jisung did as he was told and moved away from Minho just enough that he could wrap one arm around his waist. Minho did the same, his gloved hand coming to grip the curve of Jisung’s waist. They had too many layers between them for Jisung to really feel it but his breath still hitched at the pressure. Minho didn’t seem to notice, and if he did notice, he didn’t say anything. He got right into guiding Jisung along the ice, holding him firmly so that he wouldn’t slip. It started to come back to him as they glided along the smooth surface, but Jisung didn’t want to let go, even after he became confident enough to do it on his own. It was cold and Minho was so warm and his fingers felt nice digging into his side. He was probably holding him harder than he needed to but that didn’t phase Jisung one bit. 

“You really did forget all of this in America,” Minho said, shaking his head. “Is it really that warm there?” 

“Well, no…” Jisung responded, cheeks burning from embarrassment. “I just live in California near the ocean and it’s super warm there. We hardly ever get snow there. And America is so big, hyung! There’s places there that are super cold.” 

“Oh yeah, I know. I just mean…I don’t know…kinda forgot what state you lived in,” Minho admitted sheepishly. “I thought it was like New York or something. Nevermind.” 

Jisung frowned softly, discomfort twisting in his stomach. “It’s okay. I mean, we didn’t really talk about where I was going that much…and it’s been a while.” 

Minho hummed and when Jisung glanced up his lips were pursed and his expression looked pinched. The discomfort spread through Jisung’s stomach and settled in his chest like a weight. There was something hollow there, nestling deep inside him. They had stopped moving, no longer moving smoothly across the ice. The air had gotten colder and it was thick with the unspoken truth they both knew. We don’t know each other anymore. 

Minho looked over at Jisung and his face relaxed a little. “Sorry just… I know it’s silly. It’s just where you live. But it’s really been so long. I don’t–” He swallowed and for the first time Jisung noticed his eyes were glassy. “I don’t know anything about what your life has been like for the last–what? Four years?”

The hollow feeling crawled up Jisung’s throat and he held down a distressed sound. “Let’s–let’s sit down, hyung.” 

Minho nodded in agreement and he directed them to the edge of the rink so they could sit down on one of the benches. They were silent for a moment, both of them trying to figure out what to say, what needed to be said. After a moment, Jisung decided to be the first to speak. “What do you want to know?” 

“Huh?” Minho asked, tilting his head to look at Jisung. 

“What do you want to know about me? About my life. Since the last time we talked.” 

“Everything,” Minho answered easily. “I want to know everything, please.” 

So Jisung told him everything. He told him how he never intended to stop messaging him, how it almost just happened and in the end he thought it might be for the best–but he also told him how sorry he was for that. How the guilt still twisted his stomach like a hoard of snakes whenever he thought about it. He also told him about Chan, a music student from Australia, and Changbin, another music student who had grown up in New York city his entire life but had deeply Korean traditions, both who were Jisung’s two best friends in the United States. He told him how they wanted to start a production group together called 3Racha and they had been slowly working towards producing for bigger artists. He told Minho about the relationships he had while he was in America, not missing the way that Minho’s eyes flashed at mention. He told him about the friends he had made and about the time he went out drinking with Chan and Changbin and got so drunk he made an utter fool out of himself by attempting to dance on the bar. He told him how he started seeing a therapist for his anxiety and how he discovered that working out really helped him mentally. He told him everything that he could think of, everything that would make it seem like Minho had been there all those years. 

The sky was dark with only a hint of sunlight peeking over the horizon when Jisung finished. The tips of his ears were numb and his nose was running from the cold and even though his hands were shoved into his coat pockets, they still felt cold. Anyone else who had been there previously was gone and it was getting close to the point where the rink would be closed off for the night. 

“I’m sorry I took up all our time with my talking,” Jisung said through chattering teeth. Minho smiled softly and shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I just liked spending time with you. Getting to hear you talk,” Minho told him. “Your life sounds so interesting.” 

Jisung chuckled. “Not super interesting. Just chaotic.” 

“It’s interesting to me.” Minho’s eyes held his and his gaze was so intense for a moment that Jisung’s heart nearly stuttered to a stop. But then the intensity was gone, leaving behind a mob of butterflies in Jisung’s stomach. “We should get going. Maybe get some hot cocoa since it’s so cold?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’d like that.” Jisung stood up from the bench and stretched. His limbs were stiff from the cold and from sitting so long. The thought of hot cocoa made a shiver run through him from his head to his toes. He couldn’t wait to be warm and cozy instead of freezing. 

They dropped off their skates and went to Minho’s car. On their way back, they picked up some hot cocoa to go and as the warmth settled in Jisung’s stomach he let out a content sigh. Even though they didn’t spend their whole time out ice-skating, Jisung was happy. He felt a weight was off his chest now that he had shared so much about his life with Minho. There was still more they probably needed to talk about. The end of their friendship, their breakup. Jisung still wanted to be Minho’s friend, but he couldn’t deny there was something more there. Something that could be worth pursuing now that they were both older and more mature. The problem was, Jisung was nervous. It had only been a week since they had reunited and as much as Minho now knew about his life, Jisung knew little about what Minho had been doing all this time. 

He had been working on stepping out of his comfort zone though. He had been working on facing his fears. 

“I wanna hear about your life too,” Jisung said softly, picking at the edge of the lid on his hot cocoa cup with his thumb. “I did a lot of talking and you didn’t get to tell me about yourself.” 

“It’s not all that interesting,” Minho replied with a shrug, turning the wheel with a single hand. 

Jisung shook his head adamantly. “Not true. It’s you. And I think it’s up to me to decide whether or not it’s interesting while you’re telling it, right?” He smiled playfully and Minho sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” Minho said with a chuckle. “But, later. It’s late. When we hang out next. If you want that, of course.” 

Jisung bit his lip, a jolt of excitement shooting through him. Minho wanted to continue spending time with him. That was good. “I do!” He nodded. “And then you’ll tell me everything, right?” 

“I will.” Minho took a quick glance at him and smiled so fondly Jisung was sure his heart would melt through his ribcage. 

“Then I can’t wait.” His lips curled up in a soft smile and he took a sip of his hot chocolate. The drive was quiet from that point on, with only the sound of the road underneath them for background noise. Jisung tried not to let his mind wander too much, but there was still something left on his mind that he needed to say. 

They arrived at Jisung’s house and as he stepped out of the car, he turned to look at Minho. “I’m sorry. For not texting you back. I should have–I wanted to, I just—” He sighed and chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t really have an excuse. But I didn’t forget about you. I’m sorry I did that to you.” 

Minho smiled a little ruefully but Jisung could tell that behind the hurt that must have been there, there was sincerity. “It’s okay. It’s in the past now, yeah? I think I needed it anyway.” 

Jisung gave him a nod. “Well, it won’t happen again.” He didn’t say that really, over the last few days he had realized that he never wanted Minho out of his life again. He was a different person than the one that had left for the states, a better one. He could do better now. 

Minho’s smile changed into something sweeter and Jisung’s breathing became easier. “I’m glad. And if you do leave me on read again, I’ll just keep bothering you. Sound good?” 

Jisung’s cheeks hurt from how hard he smiled. “Yeah, sounds really good, hyung.” 

They said goodbye and when Jisung went inside, he placed his hand flat over his racing heart. This was so bad for him. He felt like he was slipping on ice again, careening towards the ground. Only there was a chance that someone might be there to catch him this time. 

Jisung did not get to see Minho much for the next few days. He was busy with the coffee shop and Jisung was busy spending time with his parents and old friends. He got together with his friend Hyunjin, who he had been close to in high school, and that brought a lot of ease to him. Hyunjin was as annoying as ever, but that only made Jisung happier to see him. Their time together reminded him of more carefree days, summers off of school, skipping class to do anything but homework. He hadn’t realized how closed off he had been to his old home until now, but now he had gone from being worried about his return to never wanting to leave. 

His parents seemed to be just as happy to have him back. His mom was making all his favorite foods for every meal and giving him portions to the point where he could swear his pants were getting tighter. His father insisted on hearing about every song Jisung produced or worked on, which was a little overwhelming but Jisung would never pass on sharing his pride and joy with someone else. 

With these bright sides though, there was something…slightly more annoying. They seemed intent on making Jisung’s reunion with Minho a Big Deal. 

“So…have you stopped by the coffee shop these last couple days?” Jisung’s mother asked as she stood at the sink washing vegetables for dinner. Jisung could feel his cheeks turn fifty shades of red and he shook his head. 

“No. Besides, why does it matter, huh? Something you want to tell me, eomma?” 

Jisung had figured out by now that his parents set him up to meet Minho. It didn’t take much inference to come to that conclusion. He was grateful but at the same time he couldn’t help but shake his head at their scheming. 

“No, nothing,” she said with a shrug, humming as she set the vegetables in a bowl. “I’m just glad that you two are talking again. You both always got along so well.” 

“I always liked him,” his father piped up as he entered the dining room. “A really good kid, that one. You should invite him over sometime! Christmas dinner?” Jisung resisted the urge to groan. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes to rub them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Minho over for Christmas dinner. It just felt a bit too soon for that. And it might insinuate that he wanted more with Minho–which might not be a lie at this point. 

“I don’t think he’d want to do that. We’re just getting back to knowing each other.” He sighed, slumping down in his seat. 

“Well tell him he’s invited!” his mother said with a sharp nod of her head. “He can say no if he wants, but the offer is there!” 

“Humor you eomma, Jisung-ah,” his dad said. 

Jisung did groan this time, long and heavy; like a petulant child. “I’ll ask. Don’t worry.” 

That seemed to satisfy them for the time being and they quickly changed the subject to something else. Jisung didn’t know what–he was once again too lost in his thoughts. Thoughts about Minho, who was taking up too much of his mind. He shouldn’t be like this, not with his ex. But he couldn’t help it. His parents were right. They did work well. Chopsticks, their friends used to call them. 

Perhaps now, things could be different. Perhaps now, the distance wouldn’t be so hard to bridge. 

Later that day, it was Jisung who messaged Minho, asking when he was free to hang out next. They had been texting more since the day Minho brought him skating and through some of those texting conversations, Jisung had learned more about what Minho had been up to during the past few years. To his surprise, he discovered that Minho had not had a boyfriend since they had broken up. He learned that he had a situationship and a few miscellaneous no-strings-attached relationships that did not last long, but nothing substantial. The sicker part of Jisung’s brain twisted with excitement at this news. It made him believe that there was a chance. He wasn’t even sure when he had started wanting Minho back, but somehow he felt like he had since the moment he laid eyes on him in the coffee shop his first full day back home. 

Minho responded a half an hour later, waking Jisung up from the light sleep he had fallen into while lying on his bed watching anime. He rubbed his groggy eyes and blinked rapidly at his screen as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. 

Minho-hyungie

6:34pm You wanna come over tomorrow night? I’d invite you over tonight but I’m totally unprepared for guests lmao 

Jisung 

6:35pm Waaaa you wanna prepare for mee? \(๑•́o•̀๑)/

Minho-hyungie

6:35pm I’m just a great host 

Jisung 

6:37pm Yeah yeah But tomorrow does work good for me *gasp* we should make Christmas cookies! 

Minho-hyungie

6:40pm And have you burn my house down? No way 

Jisung pouted, rolling over on his bed. He had gotten much better at cooking since he and Minho were last together. Minho’s worry wasn’t entirely unfounded since the last time Jisung tried to cook anything he did end up lighting it on fire, but he had grown. He was twenty-four and he would be damned if he couldn’t make some Christmas cookies. 

Jisung 

6:42pm That’s so mean hyung :c I’m a lot better at cooking now yk And you can always bake the cookies while I decorate :3

Minho-hyungie

6:43pm Mhm sure I’ll pick up the ingredients tonight 

Jisung 

6:43pm Yayy! You’re the best 

Setting his phone down, Jisung stared up at the ceiling. His heart was beating too fast and his cheeks were warm, which was becoming a common side effect of talking to Minho or being in his presence. He was royally fucked. 

It only got worse as he got ready to go over to Minho’s house the next evening. He was aware they weren’t doing anything particularly special, but he could still feel the budding anxiety blooming in his stomach. When he and Minho were last together, Minho was still living with his parents. He was on his way towards getting an apartment of his own, but he hadn’t gotten everything settled with that yet. Now Minho was an established adult–he had his own place, his own home. There would be little bits and pieces of Minho’s personality spread throughout the entire place–he would get to meet Minho’s cats that he had heard so much about since returning to Korea. Jisung would be in Minho’s most personal space, he would see the most vulnerable parts of him. And they would be wholly, entirely alone. Together. 

He knew he was making a bigger deal of it than he needed to. But to him, it felt like something big. And it twisted his stomach and pulled his ribs together until the ends were rubbing against each other, making his chest too tight for him to breathe. 

But then Minho texted him a picture of his cat Soonie next to a ball of cookie dough with a text that said, “He keeps trying to steal our cookies. You better hurry up,” and suddenly Jisung didn’t feel as worried. Even if he and Minho were still in the process of getting to know each other again, it was still Minho. And as much as they didn’t know each other, they knew each other more than anyone else could ever understand. 

Everything would be fine. 

He arrived at Minho’s house five minutes before the clock hit 7pm. They had agreed to hang out “around that time,” so Jisung counted it as perfectly on time, if not a little early. Minho’s house was smaller than his family’s home and towards the outskirts of town. There were a few other houses lining the street around it and he had a small yard and what looked like it would be a flower garden during the summer. He had a doorbell so Jisung didn’t bother knocking, opting to ring it in hopes that it worked. 

Minho’s muffled voice responded from behind the door followed by the quiet padding of feet on the floor. Moments later, the door opened and there was Minho, smiling softly. His hair was slightly mussed and he was wearing an apron that had flour and a few sauce stains here and there and his cheeks were slightly flushed. Jisung swallowed thickly. Royally fucked. “Hi, Jisung-ah,” he greeted. “Come in. Are you hungry? I made some dinner ‘cause I didn’t know if you would’ve eaten but I probably should’ve asked—” 

“That’s perfect,” Jisung replied, the smile that had already been on his face the moment Minho opened the door splitting into a wide grin. “I actually haven’t eaten so I could definitely eat now.” 

He followed Minho inside and was immediately hit with just how Minho his house was. It was small, but cozy. Countless plants were spread throughout the living room and the kitchen, sitting on the edges of counters and tables. His furniture and decor was all warm toned with dark green and yellow throw pillows on his couch and a lounge chair he had in the door. There was a yellow checkered tablecloth on the dining room table and a pair of salt and pepper shakers shaped like cats in the middle. The sight alone made Jisung’s heart swell. 

After he was finished surveying the house, he finally noticed the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. His stomach growled and his mouth watered, hit with the different spices in the air from whatever Minho had been cooking. “Oh my gosh I’m like, actually so excited to eat,” he said with a laugh. Minho turned and looked at him fondly. 

“Yeah? Well, good. I made a good amount,” Minho said, going to get the food off the counter. “Ah–it’s japchae. Is that okay?” 

Jisung’s eyes lit up. “Oh that’s perfect. Seriously. What planet are you from, hyung? You’ve always been so good at cooking.” 

Minho laughed and shrugged as he got the food for them. “Mars, but I didn’t learn to cook there.” 

Jisung shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “You’re so weird.” 

“You like weird though, right?” Minho asked with an attempted wink. Jisung’s stomach did somersaults. There was a time, so long ago, where he and Minho were sitting outside one summer night. Minho was having a hard time with his parents and some of his friends and had lamented at that moment that he was, “just too weird for people.” Jisung had turned to him, cupped his face in his hands and said, “You are never too weird, hyung. Not for me. And besides. I like weird.” 

To think that Minho still remembered that. Jisung ached. And worse, he wanted. 

Minho cleared his throat after Jisung had been silent for too long. “Sorry, that was…too much.” 

“No,” Jisung quickly reassured him. “You’re right. I do.” He smiled and Minho’s eyes went wide for a second before he smiled back. 

It was that moment that there was the sound of paws running across the floor and something furry was rubbing against Jisung’s legs. He looked down and let out a gasp at the sight of Minho’s cat, Soonie, curling himself around his ankles. Then, in less than a second, another ball of fur joined Soonie, butting its head against Jisung’s legs while emitting a loud purr. “Oh my gosh. Soonie and Doongie, right?” Jisung asked, kneeling down to pet the two cats on the head. “Hi guys! Oh aren’t you just the cutest? Oh my, so soft!” he cooed, scratching behind Doongie’s ears. 

“Yep, that’s them. Dori’s probably hiding somewhere, but I’m sure he’ll come out eventually.” 

Jisung glanced up as he petted the two cats and found Minho smiling down at him. He quickly looked away, but the sight made his cheeks warm. 

“As much as I would like for you to keep getting to know my babies, we should probably eat. The food’s gonna get cold,” Minho said, which prompted Jisung to pout. He gave both Soonie and Doongie a final pat on the head and let out a dramatic sigh. 

“I’m sorry, kitties, but your owner insists I leave you.” Doongie meowed and Jisung’s frown deepened. “I know, right?” He shook his head playfully as he stood up. Minho watched him with an amused glint in his eye as he went to sit down at the table. “Oh wow this looks good,” he exclaimed as soon as he laid eyes on the food in front of him, completely forgetting about his cat dilemma. He was salivating just looking at the food. 

Minho chuckled as he joined him sitting down and picked up his chopsticks. “Well I hope it tastes as good as it looks. Please, eat.” 

Jisung was never one to not listen when told to eat, so he did. And immediately he felt himself fall again for Minho entirely, the first bite of noodles bursting with so much flavor he nearly moaned. “Hyung, what the fuck,” he groaned. He scooped up another bite with his chopsticks and slurped the noodles into his mouth. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” He almost tacked on an “I love you,” but refrained. 

“It’s not anything that special,” Minho said with a shrug. Jisung wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. 

“It is though! And you will accept the compliment.” 

Minho rolled his eyes and laughed. “Alright, I will, thank you.” 

Satisfied, Jisung went back to eating with more vigor than he even ate the meals his mother prepared. He would have to tell her that she had competition.

- 

Jisung looked ridiculously adorable, all messy from decorating cookies. There was a smear of blue icing on the corner of his mouth and flour on the tip of his nose. He was wearing one of Minho’s aprons because he didn’t want to get any of the icing on his outfit. Minho didn’t know what to do with the fact that he desperately wanted to kiss him. 

Making it through dinner without grabbing Jisung by the collar of his shirt and pulling him for a kiss was one of the most difficult things Minho had done in a long time. When Jisung took a bite and his eyes lit up and he smiled, when he groaned as the flavors hit his tongue, when he shook his hands in little fists, Minho’s heart ached. He had so many regrets and he wasn’t sure he could come back from them. He wanted Jisung back. He wanted his best friend back, he wanted the person he had once believed to be his soulmate back. 

Decorating cookies with Jisung made the thoughts in Minho’s head quiet down, at least a little bit. It made Minho so happy he couldn’t think negatively. Even if the ache in his heart didn’t subside, at least Jisung was here. And he was so happy. 

“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” played in the background as Minho filled a Christmas tree-shaped cookie in with green icing. Jisung hummed softly to the tune and swayed his hips every now and then as he decorated his own snowman cookie. Minho’s eyes were drawn to the motion every few moments and he quickly averted his gaze whenever he realized what he was doing. Did he even know how irresistible he was? Or was Minho just insane? 

“Aww, I messed up his eyes,” Jisung whined, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He held up his snowman cookie, showing Minho the smeared black where the eyes were supposed to be. If it weren’t for the white all over the cookie and the shape it probably wouldn’t even look like a snowman with how wonky the features were, but to Minho, it was the best snowman in the entire world. 

“That’s okay, I think it looks just fine,” Minho reassured him with a slight smile. 

Jisung huffed a little, shaking his head. “All your cookies look perfect. It’s so annoying.” 

Minho couldn’t help but laugh at that, his cheeks hurting slightly from how much he had been smiling the whole evening. “And yours are good too, Sung. Besides, we’re just gonna eat them anyway so how they look doesn’t matter.” 

“That’s just a nice way of saying mine look fucked up.” 

“It is not!” Minho denied, even if Jisung’s snowman looked more like a demented Santa Claus. He tried. That’s what mattered. 

“Sure,” Jisung mumbled. He went back to decorating his cookies, a sulk plastered on his face. A chuckle escaped Minho’s lips and he rolled his eyes. 

They continued decorating cookies like that, mostly in silence. Occasionally Jisung would pipe up to say something random or he would sing along to the Christmas song that was playing. It was pleasant. Minho felt more comfortable than he had in a long while and for the first time in years, his chest swelled with a true Christmas feeling. His happiness swelled up and overflowed enough to get caught in his throat, giddiness like a child on Christmas morning spreading through even his limbs. 

Minho saved most of his cookies so that he could have a nice spread once he was done. Jisung periodically ate the cookies he made, and when they were finished, Minho had about a dozen cookies left while Jisung had a solid six and was complaining about his stomach hurting. 

“If you hadn’t eaten so many your stomach wouldn’t be hurting,” he scolded. 

“You can’t blame me when they’re cookies you made,” Jisung retorted, indignant. He gingerly rubbed over the top of his stomach and sighed. “It’s not my fault.” He lifted his hand to his face and licked bits of crumb and icing off his fingertips. Minho swallowed thickly. 

“Mhm, blame me.” 

He picked up one of his cookies and held it between his teeth as he gathered the rest onto a plate. “Wanna wastch a Chwrifmash movie?” he asked, words garbled by the cookie in his mouth. Jisung side-eyed him, the corners of his mouth turning downwards. 

“You couldn’t have asked before sticking that in your mouth?” Minho shrugged, finally biting off the piece. Damn, they were good. “But yes, I do. Can we have snacks too?” 

“You were just complaining about your stomach hurting,” Minho said, but at the same time went to his cabinets to see what he had. Jisung didn’t seem phased by his comment, instead going to his living room to make himself comfortable on the couch. The sight of him so at ease did something to Minho’s poor heart and he wet his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. 

 He joined Jisung on the couch a few minutes later with two bottles of soju and an assortment of movie snacks in hand. He sat down with enough space between him and Jisung for another person. He knew they had gotten closer recently, but he wanted to make sure Jisung was comfortable. If they were going to be closer, Minho needed Jisung to make the first move. 

“What movie d’ya wanna watch?” he asked, leaning back against the couch cushions as he opened the bottle of soju. Peach flavored. He remembered Jisung saying he liked that in the past and hoped he still did. The first sip settled in his stomach with a pleasant warmth. Maybe a bit of alcohol would stop his thoughts. 

“Any is good. Elf, maybe?” Jisung asked. Minho snickered. He should have expected that. 

“Elf it is then.” He turned on the movie and Jisung settled back the same way he did, opening his soju with a quiet “thank you.” 

Ten minutes into the movie, Jisung scooted closer to Minho on the couch. He stiffened when he noticed and that made Jisung frown. “Is this okay?” he asked, sounding so small and vulnerable in a way that Minho never wanted to hear. 

“Yeah, it’s perfectly fine,” he told him with a gentle nod. He realized then that with as much as he wanted to be close to Jisung, Jisung might actually want the same thing. So instead of being a coward, he moved closer to Jisung and closed the gap between them so that they were touching from their shoulders down to their thighs. The contact made Minho’s skin tingle and his heart rabbited in his chest, yet somehow he wasn’t nervous. Maybe it was the sips of soju he’d had settling in his stomach sending alcohol through his veins–liquid courage–but he felt confident. Before he could overthink it, he wrapped his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, his fingertips brushing against his shoulder. He may have imagined it but for a second he thought he heard Jisung’s breath hitch at the contact. 

“Is this okay?” it was his turn to ask. Jisung nodded quickly, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “You sure? I know we…” We’re not the same anymore. We’re exes. We broke up. We didn’t talk for years. 

“It is,” Jisung said, his voice the texture of cotton candy. The weight was removed from Minho’s chest. 

“Okay, good.” He pulled Jisung more into his side and caressed his shoulder with the tips of his fingers. He could hear Jisung’s soft breaths and could smell his shampoo like this–strawberry, he decided–and it was not good for his sanity. He was so warm against his body, so close. He had been worried about Jisung, but perhaps he should be worried about himself. 

They only made it five more minutes and another sip of soju into the movie before Minho’s feelings were exploding out of his chest, too much to contain. “Jisung…I…” He swallowed thickly and fiddled with Jisung’s shirt sleeve. He wasn’t looking at Jisung but he could feel his gaze on him. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t–I didn’t want to break up with you, back then. I thought–I thought it was the best thing for us but I didn’t want it. Fuck, I–I wanted you to say no.” His voice shook a little. 

“Hyung…” Jisung muttered, eyes wide as he stared at Minho. 

Minho wet his lips and turned his head, making eye contact with him. “I just…I need you to know. That I regretted it. There wasn’t a day I didn’t want you back.” 

“Hyung,” Jisung said again, his voice sounding a little more desperate. “Why–where is this coming from?” 

“I—” Minho wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but he wasn’t drunk. Sure, it was affecting him a little bit, easing his nerves, giving him the courage to say this. But it wasn’t why he was saying it. “Since the day you walked into my coffee shop last week, or whenever it was. I’ve been thinking about everything. And it just made me realize how much I missed you. I think I could–no, I am falling for you again, already. I just can’t keep it in, especially since you’ll be going to America again and I–” 

“Minho-yah, hey. Minho, it’s okay,” Jisung said, reaching up to cup Minho’s cheeks. Only when he brushed his thumb over the soft flesh there did he realize that he had started crying. What the fuck. 

“Sorry,” Minho choked. “I’m sorry, the last thing you probably wanted to come back to was your ex I mean we had to stop talking for a reason—” 

Minho was shut up the moment he felt Jisung’s plush lips press against his own in a warm, chaste kiss. There was little finesse, no tongue, no urgency, but in that moment it was everything. A calming buzz settled over Minho’s body and mind, something settling in his chest where it had been left hollow. Jisung tasted like peach soju and sugar from the cookies they had made together, and like something so familiar even six years later and so distinctly Jisung that it hit him with a wave of nostalgia. 

When Jisung pulled away, his heartbeat was roaring in his ears yet he felt calm. He felt sated, but he wanted more. That was the thing. When they broke up he said he was okay being his friend, but he continued wanting more. When Jisung came back, he told himself he wanted to be friends with him again, and here he was, wanting more. With Jisung, he was insatiable. Greedy. There was never enough when it came to Jisung. 

Jisung looked at him, seemingly waiting for a response to the kiss. He didn’t say anything else, rather, angled his body so he could face him better and pulled him into another kiss. This time he slotted their lips together with purpose, tilting his head so he could take all of Jisung in. He cupped Jisung’s cheek with one hand and the other he rested on Jisung’s waist. Oh his waist. It had always been one of Minho’s favorite parts of him and it turned out it was now, too. 

He gave the curve of Jisung’s waist a squeeze which prompted a small gasp from him. Minho parted his lips as Jisung gasped, licking across his bottom lip, a mere taste of all that he wanted. When Jisung seemed to reciprocate his desire, he licked into his mouth, swallowing down the little noises Jisung made as he kissed him deeper. He was a good kisser, much better than when they had been together as inexperienced teenagers. He tried not to think about all the people he must have kissed since then and tried to focus on the fact that regardless of any of that, Jisung was here. 

Jisung shifted and his hands slid from Minho’s cheeks to tangle in his hair and Minho groaned into his mouth. He wrapped his arm around Jisung’s waist and tugged him forward a little; Jisung seemed to get the memo because in the next moment he was moving to sit in Minho’s lap, his thighs straddling his hips. Minho tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and Jisung outright moaned, the sound pooling as arousal in his belly. 

“Min– Minho,” Jisung gasped against his mouth after Minho released his bottom lip. His hands fell from Minho’s hair to his shoulders and he gave a small roll of his hips–a barely-there movement, but Minho felt it. 

“ Mmh, Sung-ah, fuck,” he breathed. He felt dizzy, his head swimming like he was drunk. He wasn’t, but he might as well have downed the entire bottle of soju in one go. He hadn’t felt desperation like this in a long time. But he needed Jisung, needed him in ways he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Jisung released breathy whines into Minho’s mouth, their lips gliding together, slick and wet. Messy, but so good. Jisung’s breath came out in pants between kisses, a string of spit connecting them. It was driving Minho insane. And when he rolled his hips again Minho gasped at the friction against his cock, which was already hard in his sweatpants. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted—

But—

“Ah, Jisung, Sungie, wait,” he said when he got a moment to breathe from how incessantly Jisung was kissing him. Jisung froze, his movements stopping all together. 

“What is it?” he asked, eyes wide with worry, anxiety. 

Minho wet his lips, the taste of Jisung still lingering on them. “I don’t–I don’t really have anything for uh…uhm.” He gestured vaguely with his hand and cleared his throat. “And I think…I think we should wait. Maybe a little.” Getting those words out felt like tearing at his chest but with their history they couldn’t just rush into things. That would only end up in both of them getting hurt and that was the last thing Minho wanted. He wanted to do things right. 

Jisung frowned and looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. “You’re probably right,” he agreed softly. 

Minho swallowed. “I do want you,” he said, hoping to reassure any thoughts that might be going through Jisung’s head. “But I also want to make sure that you know I want you for more than just sex. And I don’t want us…I don’t want you to do something you might regret especially since you’ll be leaving and we have… history.” 

“I wouldn’t regret it though,” Jisung said assuredly. “I know that already.” He slid off of Minho’s lap but still stayed glued to his side. “And the same things you said, hyung. I didn’t want us to end either. And I never forgot about you. Even if I was an asshole and stopped messaging. That was never–it was never because I wanted to forget you. Fuck, Minho, I don’t think I could regret anything with you except for leaving you.” 

Minho’s eyes stung and he looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly a couple times. “That’s really…wow.” 

“We were stupid kids, hyung,” Jisung said, rubbing Minho’s shoulder. The action caused Minho’s heart to skip a beat. “I was too, especially. Neither of us knew what we were doing in life, I was totally immature.”

“Right person, wrong time,” Minho said with a wry laugh. Jisung still seemed like the right person, but would there ever be a right time? He was going back. Minho didn’t even want to think about it. 

“Yeah…” Jisung trailed off, looking down for a moment. “I know…things are kind of uncertain right now. But I want you to know that spending time with you since I got back has been the happiest I’ve been in a while.” 

Minho’s heart was going to beat out of his chest, he knew it. “That’s just because I feed you so much sugar.” 

“It is not!” Jisung gasped, shoving his shoulder. “You do make an amazing candy cane mocha, and amazing cheesecake, and amazing cookies–but that’s not the point!” 

Minho couldn’t help laughing, throwing his head back. “Ah, I know. I’m just teasing. I’m glad. Really. I’ve been happy too.” Jisung’s smile was worth any tension Minho had felt, any anxieties he had, any worries. He would do anything to see Jisung smile over and over again. 

A moment of quiet passed over them where Jisung just leaned against Minho. Then Minho took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Let’s think for a few days. I think I already know where I stand but I want to be sure. And I just want to keep enjoying my time with you.” What I have left until you leave. “And I want—” His cheeks warmed and he looked off to the side. “If we do anything, I want to make it special. I don’t get to have you for long, I want to make everything count.” 

Jisung stared at him for a moment before he grinned widely. He giggled and bounced in his seat. “ Hyung! That is so romantic and so cheesy. You’re so cute what the fuck.” He giggled again and Minho tongued his cheek. 

“I am not cute.” 

“You’re adorable. I lo–I love how much of a hopeless romantic you are.” 

Minho could deny Jisung’s accusations all he wanted but there was no way he could deny the way his heartbeat sped up just a little. “I just…I care about you, Sung-ah,” he said, his tone turning serious. “I know you haven’t been back for long, but I never stopped caring about you. So I want to show that.” Even if I only get to have you for one night. Even if that’s all I’ll ever get. 

“Hyung,” Jisung mumbled, eyes going a little wide. “I–that really means a lot. I care about you too. I’m still so sorry I just left like that. I won’t do it again. I promise.” 

Maybe Minho was a fool, but he chose to believe him. He reached up to brush a strand of hair behind Jisung’s ear. “I know. I wouldn’t let you anyway,” he joked, but inside he felt it was the truth. He couldn’t let him go again. He wouldn’t. 

“You better not,” Jisung said with a giggle. “Now let's pay attention to the movie. We missed Buddy getting attacked by the raccoon.” 

“Shit,” Minho muttered, laughing softly. “You’re right. Guess I’ll have to skip back.” 

The smile Jisung gave him made his heart ache. But it was a different ache this time. It was mixed with a little hope. 

“Yeah, you better.” 

-

For the next few days leading up to Christmas, Jisung thought a lot. He went over every memory he had with Minho in his head, mulled over his feelings for hours. His parents even asked him what was wrong with how silent he had been at the dinner table since he was usually full of endless conversation. He explained that he was alright but simply had something important on his mind. He was grateful to them for not prying too much. This was something he needed to figure out on his own. 

While he went over his thoughts, he tried to spend as much time with Minho as he could. That really only allowed for two coffee shop visits since he was busy with his own family and Minho was getting more visitors at the shop with it nearing Christmas. Couples were coming in every few minutes, holding hands, giggling, ordering matching drinks and desserts–Minho’s candy cane mocha was the most popular. Jisung had to agree with the popular choice. If he wasn’t coming for Minho there was a large chance he would come anyway to get it again. But maybe that was his bias. 

On his second visit since their night together, which happened to be the day before Christmas Eve, Jisung met Felix. He had heard about him from Minho and knew he helped out with the coffee shop on its busiest days but he hadn’t met him once since he had started coming there. He had not been expecting to hit it off with him so quickly. He was shocked to find out that they were born so close together, practically the same age. Felix could only be described as sunshine incarnate, with a smile that could blind anyone that looked at it for too long, and a personality that hooked anyone to him the moment they started talking to him. He spent more time talking to Felix then than he did Minho and there were more than a few times where he felt Minho’s gaze on them. Whenever Jisung looked over he would quickly look away, lips turned down in a frown. It made Jisung smile to himself. Minho was jealous. 

As much as Jisung enjoyed his jealousy, it was entirely unfounded. For some reason, Jisung meeting Felix only solidified his feelings. Meeting his friend somehow made him feel one step closer to the closeness they had once shared. And knowing he was friends with such an angel made him trust Minho more. 

That evening, while lying on his bed, he made his decision. He’d practically made it already, but he wanted to think about it like Minho wanted. He wanted Minho. That much he knew. There was a lot he had to figure out since he would be traveling back to the United States after the New Year, but he was also selfish. He wanted Minho even if the future was uncertain. He didn’t want to be cautious anymore. 

Jisung picked up his phone and his thumb hovered over Minho’s contact before he pressed “call.” It only rang a few times before there was a shuffled sound and Minho’s voice came over the speaker. 

“Hey, Hannie. What’s up?” 

Jisung licked his lips and sat up a bit straighter so he could focus. “Hi, hyung,” he greeted. “I’ve been thinking. About our conversation.” 

“Yeah?” Minho breathed. Jisung felt like he could hear his interest over the phone. 

“Yeah,” he reiterated. “I really do want you, hyung.” It made him blush to say it out loud again, his cheeks heating up from the simple admission. “I know it’s complicated and there’s a lot I have to figure out but you’re so…I wanna be yours again, hyung. Will you make me yours?” He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath as he waited for Minho’s response. He heard the other take in a sharp breath. 

“Yes. Yes, I’ll make you mine. I don’t care about anything else. I just want to have you one time, Sungie.” 

Jisung didn’t say how much he didn’t want it to be one time. This wouldn’t be their first time together, but somehow this felt even bigger than the first time they shared together. Jisung could still remember that moment. How they were both so young and inexperienced but that didn’t matter because it was them and they wanted each other even if they were still figuring out how things worked. Now they were reuniting with more experience, both of them more mature. Both of them with so much to figure out but with the undeniable pull towards each other. Jisung didn’t know how he had gone so long without talking to Minho. 

“You can have me, hyung,” he said, so soft he was worried Minho hadn’t picked it up, but the small hum he heard on the other side told him he had. 

“What are you doing on Christmas Eve?” Minho asked. 

Jisung didn’t even have to think. “I’m completely free. I’m not doing anything with my family until Christmas. And either way, I’m sure they would understand.” His parents had been nothing but encouraging of the renewal of his relationship with Minho. 

“Okay, good. Come over for dinner, then? I’ll make it really nice, just for you, Sung-ah.” 

A lump formed in Jisung’s throat and he nodded even though Minho couldn’t see. “That sounds perfect. Absolutely perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“Mm. Same time as last time.”

“Alright, hyung. I’ll see you then!” 

“See you then. I’ll let you go now, ‘kay? Gotta go give the demons water.” Jisung found himself nodding again, even though Minho couldn’t see. “Goodnight, Hannie.” 

“Okay, goodnight, Minho-hyung,” he said, unable to hold back his smile. The line cut off and he let out a sigh as he put his phone down. He had a date with Minho. A Christmas date no less. 

He was so fucked. 

Jisung had done his makeup, styled his hair, and done every possible thing under the sun to make himself the prettiest for Minho that he possibly could. He figured Minho liked him as he was, but a little extra effort didn’t hurt. Especially since he had a strong feeling of where the night was going to go after dinner. His eyes had a light golden shimmer on the lids and there was mascara on his lashes, his lips were a rosy pink tinted from a lip stain and gloss, and had added a hint of blush on his cheeks. He didn’t need much since he would most likely be blushing the entire evening anyway.

Minho’s smile when he invited him in was blinding and it made butterflies explode in Jisung’s stomach. He could tell that despite Minho’s excitement, he was still a little nervous which quelled some of Jisung’s nerves. 

“You look pretty, Hannie,” he said softly as he took in Jisung’s appearance. If it was possible for an entire body to blush, Jisung’s did just that. 

“Thank you, hyung-ah,” he replied, smiling bashfully to himself. Minho still thinks I look pretty. 

The house smelled just as good as last time and his stomach growled the moment he stepped inside. There was a bigger spread than before and the yellow checkered tablecloth had been replaced by a red tablecloth with two lit candles in the middle. The lights were dimmed and the flames of the candles cast a warm glow over the kitchen that made it the perfect combination of cozy and romantic. And when Jisung glanced into the living room he saw that Minho had even set up a Christmas tree. It was fake and some areas were more sparsely decorated than others, but it was the most beautiful tree he had ever seen. His eyes stung. 

“I hope this isn’t too much. Or too little–I wanted it to be nice,” Minho rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I also–I made a cheesecake. Since I know you like that.” 

“This is perfect, ” Jisung exclaimed. He felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. “And you made me cheesecake? You’re amazing. I could kiss you.” 

Minho blinked a few times and then said, his voice a little softer, “You could.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide but then he smiled, stepping into Minho’s space so he could hold him closer. He tilted his chin up and pressed his lips to Minho’s, eyelids fluttering shut. The kiss was a lot less passionate than the last one they had shared, but not as chaste as the first kiss Jisung had given him. It was just deep enough, the quick swipe of tongue against parted lips a promise of what was to come. 

“You taste so good, Sungie,” Minho murmured as he pulled away and Jisung’s cheeks turned a fiery red. 

“Goodness, shut up,” he whined, shoving him away playfully. “I won’t kiss you again if you’re gonna be embarrassing.” Minho smirked, satisfied with himself. They both knew Jisung was lying. He would kiss Minho again, and again, and again. 

They got to dinner after that, Minho being the gentleman he was and filling Jisung’s plate for him. There was a thick layer of tension that hung in the air as they ate and it made Jisung’s skin tingle and his stomach twist in delight. It was hard to focus on conversation, but he did his best to talk since it was Minho. And he could talk to Minho endlessly. He explained his Christmas plans and learned that Minho wouldn’t be seeing his parents for Christmas. As much as that saddened him, he wasn’t surprised. Minho had always had a rocky relationship with his parents; he was just sad they had never made any effort to repair their relationship with him. He invited him over to his house with his family but he learned that he already had plans to spend time with Felix and his family who were visiting from Australia. Rather than making Jisung jealous, he only felt happy. 

Dinner was filling and delicious and the cheesecake Minho had made was even better than the ones he made for his coffee shop. It practically melted on his tongue and Jisung couldn’t hold back the moan as the taste. “This is literally the best thing I have ever tasted. You have to make these like, every day now. Like seriously, send me this, hyung. I don’t know what I’ll ever do now that I’ve tasted this.” 

Minho blushed and the sight was so pretty Jisung nearly fainted. “I guess I’ll have to now, if you like it so much,” he said. Then, something in the air seemed to shift and Minho’s gaze shifted. He reached across the table and for a moment Jisung was confused at what he was doing, but then he cupped his jaw and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip. “You always eat desserts so messy.” 

Jisung’s cheeks heated up and his stomach swooped. He was going to whine, complain, but Minho apparently wasn’t done. His thumb still remained on Jisung’s lip and he gingerly pulled it down so his mouth opened just enough for him to slip his thumb inside. “Here,” he said. There was a gravelliness to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t want you to waste any.” 

Stunned, Jisung could only blink at him. And then he did the most logical thing–he swirled his tongue around Minho’s thumb, licking off the crumb of cheesecake he had swiped up. That seemed to satisfy Minho and his lips quirked up as he popped his thumb out of Jisung’s mouth. 

“Good boy. ” 

Jisung gasped and a jolt of arousal zipped through his stomach. He suddenly felt dizzy and all too aware at the same time. Minho ran his thumb along Jisung’s bottom lip, coating it in his own spit, before he pulled away. His lip and jaw tingled where Minho’s touch had been and his entire body felt like it was on fire. Fuck. 

“Finish up, Jisung.” Minho’s eyes were half lidded, sharp and catlike, and arousal pooled in Jisung’s stomach and prickled at his skin like needles. 

He nodded and took another bite of his cheesecake because even though his mind was elsewhere now, there was no way he would let it go to waste. And the sooner he finished, the sooner he could get to the real dessert of the night. 

Minho’s eyes were fixed on him the entire time he made his way through the dessert. He was afraid to look up, but when he did he found that Minho’s eyes never left him, even when they made eye contact. Occasionally Jisung noticed his gaze shifting from his face to his mouth–when he licked some of the cream off his lips the rhythm of Minho’s breathing changed, and even that sound was enough to make heat boil in the pit of Jisung’s stomach. 

Jisung licked the fork clean after the last bite and set it down on the plate. “Done, hyung,” he announced, the anticipation for what was to come sending tingles up and down his spine. 

“Did you like it?” Minho asked as he got up from his chair. Jisung followed, standing on shaky legs. Minho was in his space with two strides and he placed his hand on the curve of Jisung’s waist. His thumb rubbed up and down, melting Jisung’s brain into sugary syrup. 

“Yeah, it was amazing,” he mumbled, swallowing thickly. “I loved it.” 

“Mind if I see for myself?” Jisung knew what he was asking immediately–Minho already had his own slice, but that didn’t matter. 

“Please,” he whispered, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

The grip on his waist tightened and then Minho was kissing him. He coaxed his mouth open with his tongue and pulled him close until their bodies were flush together. He eased a thigh between Jisung’s legs and he let out a gasp into his mouth at the friction. He could feel Minho smirking against his mouth as he used the hand on his waist to make Jisung grind down onto his thigh. 

At the same time, he used the hand that wasn’t holding Jisung’s waist to grab Jisung’s hair and tilt his head so that he could slot their mouths together better. The slick sounds of their lips and tongues sliding together made the arousal coiling in Jisung’s belly grow and he whimpered pathetically. His mind felt hazy already from just a little kissing, his cock already fully hard in his pants as he practically humped Minho’s thigh. It was embarrassing but that only made him more turned on. 

“Minho-hyung, ahhh,” Jisung moaned as Minho tilted his head back with a tug of his hair and began planting open-mouthed kisses on his neck. The kisses quickly changed to him sucking bruises on his neck. He nipped gentle at the skin and Jisung let out a little ah again. 

“You sound so pretty…fuck you’re so pretty for me, Hannie,” he mumbled against his skin. Each brush of his lips made Jisung shiver and his cock twitched in his underwear. 

“Please, Mm-Minho,” Jisung begged. His legs were beginning to shake–any second he was going to collapse to the floor in a pile of goo. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom, hm?” 

Jisung nodded quickly as Minho led him down the hall to his bedroom. He never let go of his waist, instead wrapping his arm around him to guide him. It made Jisung feel safe somehow–owned, like he belonged to Minho. And maybe that was what he had needed all along. Maybe that was why none of the relationships he’d had in America felt right. Because right was waiting for him in South Korea. 

Minho’s bedroom was much like the rest of his house. Various potted plants spread about, some hanging from the ceiling. There was a cat tree in the corner and fairy lights going around the room attached to the ceiling. His bed was big and the blankets were a soft mint color. He still has the same favorite color, Jisung mused to himself as Minho laid him down on the bed. 

“Is this still okay?” Minho asked as he hovered over him, his hands sliding underneath Jisung’s sweater. His breath hitched as he nodded eagerly. 

“Yes, it’s perfect. I want you. Please,” he answered. To prove his point he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving himself half naked for Minho to admire. Minho inhaled as he took in Jisung’s body, the curve of his waist, his built chest, the muscles in his arms. Jisung knew he looked good, but Minho’s hungry gaze still made him feel shy. He moved to cross his arms over himself after Minho looked too long, but he grabbed Jisung’s wrists and pinned them down. 

“Don’t hide, jagi, ” Minho instructed. “You look so perfect. So goddamn pretty.” 

Jisung swallowed down a whimper at the praise and the pet name. Jagi. Minho called him jagi. He never imagined he would hear him say that again, but here he was, calling him that while he pinned his wrists to the bed. He was blushing all the way down to his chest already. “I won’t, but hyung. Stop staring. I want you.” 

“What do you want, hm?” Minho asked, tilting his head. 

Jisung whined, his cheeks burning. “I want–” He wet his lips. “I want you to fuck me. Please, fuck me, hyung.” 

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut as he groaned. “Fuck, such a good boy, asking so nicely. Yeah, of course I’ll fuck you.” 

He leaned down to capture Jisung’s lips in a hungry kiss again and his hands began roaming Jisung’s body, sliding down to undo his pants. Jisung’s senses were overwhelmed with Minho, the taste of his mouth, the smell of his cologne, the heat of his body. His hands left fire wherever they touched, sparks igniting, exploding into flames that enveloped Jisung’s entire body. 

He lifted his hips as Minho attempted to tug his pants and boxers down, having to pull away from the kiss for a moment to get him completely naked. They tossed them somewhere in the room, neither of them caring where they landed. 

With Jisung left completely naked and Minho still dressed, he felt incredibly vulnerable, but somehow safe at the same time. Minho’s eyes were trained on him again, drinking him in like he was some sort of magic elixir. Jisung had never felt so desired. Minho looked at him like he was ready to worship the ground he walked on. 

A bead of precum leaked from the tip of Jisung’s dick and he whined when Minho’s eyes flitted down to it. “Minho,” he pleaded. “You’re still fully clothed. I want to see you.” 

Minho chuckled and smirked down at him. “Yeah? What do you have to say?” 

“Please,” Jisung said. He wasn’t beyond begging. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have Minho right now. “Please let me see you, hyung.” 

Minho smiled and pressed a quick peck to his lips. “Okay, okay. You can see me.” He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it in the same direction Jisung’s pants had gone, and Jisung nearly drooled at the sight. He had gotten much more built over the years but still maintained a layer of softness over it all. Broad shoulders and muscular arms faded into a soft tummy that Jisung wanted to sink his teeth into. A light trail of hair went down into the waistband of Minho’s pants. His mouth watered. 

“Off,” he huffed, sitting up so he could start tugging down Minho’s pants. 

“Impatient,” Minho laughed even as he helped him tug them down. 

“Don’t tease me.” Jisung pouted. “I’m so needy for you and you’re teasing me!” 

“Oh baby,” Minho cooed. “You’re just so cute when you’re all pouty.” He cupped Jisung’s jaw and brushed his thumb over his bottom lip. Jisung’s heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to his cheeks. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you wait long. Just a second, okay?” 

Jisung nodded dumbly, laying back down on the bed as Minho scooted back to get rid of the rest of his clothes. His cock hung heavy between his legs, so hard and red. And fuck he was huge. Jisung’s hole clenched around nothing at the thought of it inside of him, fucking into him, keeping him so full. 

Minho grinned at him and crawled forward to sit between Jisung’s thighs. “Spread these pretty thighs for me, jagi,” he said softly, tapping Jisung’s upper thigh. Jisung let out an embarrassed whine at how his cock twitched at the simple contact. 

Jisung took a deep, shuddering breath as he bent his knees and spread his legs apart to give Minho access. He tried to keep his nerves down but they continued to bubble up, making his heart race. Minho seemed to notice and rubbed a soothing hand up and down his thigh. “Shh, relax. I’m gonna take care of you, m’kay? And you can tell me if you don’t want to do anything, alright?” 

He nodded, wetting his lips. “I know. I trust you.” He relaxed a little more as Minho smiled, allowing himself to sink into the bed. Minho moved his thighs further apart and reached behind him to grab a bottle of lube sitting on the dresser and a condom that had been placed there. Jisung bit his lip as he uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount onto his fingertips. The sight of Minho’s hands covered in the slick substance had Jisung’s stomach twisting, arousal building. 

He reached between his legs and pressed his middle finger to his entrance. “‘M gonna open you up now, okay?” Jisung exhaled shakily, not trusting himself to speak. Minho bit his lip as he pushed the tip of his first finger past his rim and his eyes winded when he was met with no resistance. “ Baby, what is this?” he asked, his voice taking on a gravelly edge it hadn’t had before. 

Jisung squirmed under him, body heating up like he was sitting in front of a fire. “I–uhm–I fingered myself before I came…so I would be ready,” he admitted shyly. He hadn’t planned to, he just got in the shower and it happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about Minho, his touches, the kisses they’d shared, getting fucked by him. 

“Shit, Sung, that’s so fucking hot,” Minho groaned, sliding his finger all the way in. “Did you think about me while you fingered yourself? Imagine it was my fingers? Or my cock?” 

He curled his finger and Jisung moaned, nodding his head. “Hah–y-yes,” he hiccuped. “Pictured it was you…wanted it to be you, hyung.” 

“Shit.” Minho looked almost as affected as Jisung felt and it only made his dick ache more. 

“I can take two now, I promise. I’m all prepped already, I need you, ple– ahhh, ” he moaned, cutting himself off. Minho inserted a second finger, filling him up easily. Jisung had gotten to three fingers before he came all over his hand. Minho’s hands had always been smaller than his, his fingers shorter, but there was something about the fact that it was Minho that made it feel so much better. 

“Sucking me in just perfect, fuck, ” Minho breathed as he pumped his fingers inside his hole. “Can’t wait to fuck you, shit. You’re so pretty.” 

“ Min ,” Jisung gasped, back arching as Minho spread his fingers. “Another, please, I’m ready.” 

Minho was too far gone himself to question and after pulling out his first two fingers he pushed inside him again with three. Jisung’s breath hitched and his toes curled. Minho pushed his fingers deeper, just shy of where he needed it, and it was so much, yet not enough. He needed more, more, more. 

Minho fucked him with his fingers for a little while longer, reducing him to a whiny, breathless mess with just his hands in no time. Even if he had smaller fingers, he knew how to use them and could angle them better than Jisung ever could when he fucked himself. His cock was leaking all over his stomach and his body was shaking when Minho first brushed the tip of his fingers against his prostate. His stomach tensed and his cock twitched against his stomach, telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. 

“Mmm, ‘m gonna–gonna come if you d-don’t stop. I’m ready, I promise, need you to fuck me now,” he begged, eyes stinging with tears of desperation. 

“You sure, Hannie?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“Yes, please. I can take it.” 

Minho let out a little sound, akin to a moan, and it went straight to Jisung’s cock, electricity shooting through his stomach. “O-okay, shit. You’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?” he mumbled as he pulled his fingers out. Jisung whimpered at the loss, body arching against the bed. 

“Don’t–dunno. It’s just for you,” he said, and he truly meant it. Having Minho back, having him like this, felt so good, there was no way he could have anyone else. 

“All for me, hm?” His gaze softened for a moment before they narrowed again as he hiked Jisung’s legs up so he could fold his hips back. “You’ll be good for me and take it then, hm?” he asked as he rolled a condom onto his cock with his free hand. 

Jisung nodded vigorously, eyes wide as he watched Minho adjust him like a doll, with one hand no less. “Yes, yes, please, just fuck me, fuck me jagi,” he begged, the pet name slipping out easy on his tongue. Minho’s eyes went wide for a second and he blinked, but seconds later his expression was back to normal. 

“Gonna take such good care of you Sungie. My Sungie,” he muttered. Jisung moaned as the tip of Minho’s cock pushed inside of him. It was barely anything but already he felt so full. Minho was going to split him in half. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, ass clenching around Minho’s length. Minho hissed through his teeth and squeezed the flesh of Jisung’s soft thighs. It hurt a bit, and they were probably going to bruise. Jisung hoped he would be bruised for weeks. 

“Shit, Sung, you’re so fucking tight. Gotta relax for me, m’kay baby?” 

Jisung tried but he was too overwhelmed. Already the sensation of Minho’s cock filling him up was too much, too much—

“Kiss me,” he breathed, inhaling sharply as Minho pushed in a little deeper. 

Minho didn’t respond, opting to instead maneuver between Jisung’s thighs so he could cage him in with his arms. And then his lips were on him, kissing him incessantly as he pushed his cock deeper, deeper. Jisung moaned into his mouth and Minho swallowed his sounds down like a shot. Their breaths mingled together and Jisung was at the point where he couldn’t determine whether the soft moans and whines he was hearing were from his own mouth or Minho’s. And before he knew it, Minho was fully seated inside of him, his hips pressed first against his ass. 

“Oh my–fuck, you feel so good around me Jisung. Hannie ,” Minho groaned against his lips. “So good, such a good boy, relaxing all nice for me.” He pulled back and oh, Jisung was going to die. He looked so pretty, cheeks and ears red, his lips cherry-tinted and spit-slicked. At that moment, he was like a god, and Jisung wanted nothing more than to worship him.

“‘M good. Feel so good inside of me,” Jisung moaned, pressing his head into the pillows so his neck arched. “‘M so full. You fill me up so well, hyung.” 

“Yeah?” Minho breathed, eyes gleaming. “Shit it’s like–it’s like you were made for me.” 

“Maybe I was,” Jisung supplied, too delirious to think about his words. The sound Minho made was akin to a growl and it made shivers travel over the expanse of Jisung’s body. 

“My Jisungie,” he mumbled, reverent. “Can I move now, jagi? Please, my pretty?” 

“Mhmm, please, need you. Need you to fu-fuck me yesterday,” he stuttered. “Wanna feel you.” 

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, and then he was pulling out, all the way, until just the tip was left inside. Jisung was only given a second before he slammed back in, punching the air out of Jisung’s lungs in the form of a choked moan. 

His thrusts were relentless, each one leaving Jisung breathless, dizzy. He cried out as Minho angled himself just right, the head of his cock brushing against his sensitive prostate. Pleasure pulsed in his tummy, so overwhelming and so good at the same time.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” he cried, eyes stinging with tears again. 

“You–you look so fucking, mngh– pretty, shit, S-Sung,” Minho gritted in response. His hair was sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. A drop of it ran down and landed on Jisung’s cheek, causing his cock to jolt against his stomach, more precum beading at the tip. 

“ More, harder,” Jisung whined, his voice pathetic to his own ears. He wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist and Minho pushed forward with the extra help, practically folding him in half. The new angle had him hitting Jisung’s prostate head on, and it felt so good that tears finally spilled from Jisung’s eyes. They ran down his cheeks and spilled onto the pillow below him. Minho’s breath caught in his throat at the sight and he dropped his head between his shoulders. 

 “Are you–shit are you crying?” he asked breathlessly. Jisung whimpered. 

“Just feels–feels so good,” he sobbed. 

Minho groaned. “Fuck, you’re incredible. Taking it so well.” 

“Good? Am I good?” Jisung asked deliriously. He felt dumb, so dumb. Completely cockdrunk on Minho.

“ So good. Mm fuck. My good boy,” he praised. Jisung moaned wantonly at his words. He was so far gone. Everything was too much and simultaneously not enough. 

Minho continued fucking into him, maintaining a steady rhythm despite the fact that he was breathless and panting. Every thrust had Jisung sliding up the bed, his cock bouncing helplessly against his stomach. Even though Jisung’s stomach tensed every time he was filled up again, his body remained pliant, perfect for Minho to use how he wanted. He knew he must have looked utterly debauched to Minho with his mouth hanging open, endless moans spilling from his red-bitten lips. His makeup was probably running too. 

A hand reached between their bodies and wrapped around Jisung’s cock and he writhed. “ Nghh, Minho, Min– please, pleasepleaseplease—” he babbled, no clue at all what he was even begging for. Minho smiled crookedly above him. A drop of sweat collected at the tip of his nose. 

“Are you getting close, jagi?” Minho asked. His voice was rough and it made Jisung shudder. 

“Ye-yes,” he hiccuped. 

“Good,” Minho hummed. “You’ve been so good. You can come for me whenever you want.”

His body melted into pleasure as Minho began stroking his painfully hard cock in tandem with his thrusts. Jisung’s body was coming apart at the seams. He squirmed underneath Minho, the combined sensations of being fucked and touched almost too much–and then he was coming. He gasped and tossed his head back into the pillows as his orgasm washed over him and cum spilled all over his belly. He clenched rhythmically around Minho’s cock despite the overstimulation, pathetic whines falling from his lips. Minho groaned above him. 

“ Hng, oh my gosh, Sung-ah, you’re s-so–” was all he managed to get out. His thrusts stuttered as Jisung continued to clench around him while he rode out his orgasm. He needed to see Minho come, needed to see the expressions he made as he hit his peak. 

“Co-come inside me, pl-please,” he whimpered. He squeezed his legs around Minho’s waist and dug his heels into his lower back. “Please, wanna see you.” 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Minho needed, because all it took was a few more thrusts and he was coming too with Jisung’s name on his lips. He shoved his cock deep inside Jisung as he filled the condom and Jisung could almost imagine that it was him he was filling up instead. Minho moaned breathily as Jisung squeezed around his cock a couple times purposefully to milk him through his orgasm. The sound made Jisung’s cock twitch against his stomach even though he just came. There was no way he could get hard again so soon, but the sight and sound of Minho coming was almost enough. 

When he finished, he pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash and then let out a long exhale, collapsing onto the bed beside Jisung.  They laid there for a moment catching their breaths, the only sound in the room their gentle panting. Then Minho rolled over to face Jisung wordlessly. Jisung turned his head toward him and Minho merely blinked a few times and then his arms came around to pull him close. He maneuvered them until Jisung was on his side and they were spooning, Minho’s arms wrapped securely around his waist. His breath fanned across Jisung’s neck as he nuzzled close, and he remained silent. 

For a second Jisung thought that he was asleep, that was until he heard him take in a stuttering breath. “Minho?” he questioned softly, something twisting in his stomach at the sound. 

Minho exhaled slowly and squeezed Jisung’s waist tighter. “Please stay,” he whispered, voice small and barely audible. Seconds away from breaking. An ache spread through Jisung’s chest. He rested his hand on top of one of Minho’s and brushed his thumb over the knuckles. 

“ Jagi,” Jisung murmured. “Of course I’ll stay. I was hoping you’d ask.” He couldn’t be sure if Minho meant for just the night or forever, but he found that maybe he wanted to do both. 

“Okay,” Minho breathed, his body relaxing more behind Jisung. “I’ll drive you to your family’s in the morning. So you can spend Christmas with them.” 

“That sounds good to me. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas Eve with you.” 

Minho hummed and he could feel him smile from where he had rested against his shoulder. “Me too.” 

They continued cuddling for a few minutes afterward and then Jisung yawned loudly, triggering the same reaction from Minho. “Ugh, we should clean up,” he said. “I’d love to go to sleep now but we’re both disgusting.” 

Jisung groaned. “I don’t want to…” 

“What if we shower together?” 

At that Jisung’s eyes widened and he grinned. “Okay…maybe. But you have to carry me to the shower.” He wiggled around so that he could face Minho and gave him the biggest doe eyes he could. “ Please? I’m tired.” 

“You didn’t even do any work,” Minho responded with a scoff. But he moved to sit up anyway, pulling Jisung into his arms like a baby. Jisung giggled happily and wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck. 

“You’re the best, Minho-hyung,” he chirped. He craned his neck so he could kiss his cheek and giggled again at the sight of Minho’s ears turning red. Fuck, he really could love him again. He was afraid he already did. 

Minho set him down once they reached the bathroom and Jisung let out a squeak when he saw himself in the mirror. His cheeks were streaked with tears and lines of mascara and there were bruises littering his neck from when Minho had first started kissing him. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were still flushed even though they had rested a bit. He looked utterly fucked out.

“What?” Minho asked, cocking his head to the side. Jisung covered his face and groaned. 

“I am a mess! Why didn’t you say I looked like that?” he whined petulantly. 

Minho chuckled, shaking his head. “You look pretty. Means I fucked you like you deserved.” 

Jisung sputtered while Minho laughed at his reaction. As much as he wanted to pout though, he couldn’t keep the smile off his lips. 

Something warm bloomed in Jisung’s chest as he watched Minho prepare everything for their shower, humming to himself lightly as he grabbed an extra toothbrush from his cabinet and set it on the counter for him. The feeling quickly turned bittersweet though as he realized that in another week and a half he would be gone again. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t. 

As soon as he was in the shower with Minho’s hands in his hair shampooing the strands with vanilla scented shampoo, his thoughts melted away. He sank back, rested his back against Minho’s chest even though the other complained that the angle made it harder for him to wash his hair. 

They traded off washing each other, managing to keep their hands from wandering for the most part, and then they walked back to bed, now clean and comfortable. Minho pulled off the top comforter out of principle and switched it for a cleaner one. He also grabbed Jisung a change of clothes and it made Jisung a little dizzy at how much they smelled like Minho and hung a little baggy on him. Minho had never been that much better than Jisung but obviously over the years he had gotten broader, while Jisung had only recently started working out regularly. Any size difference made Jisung’s heart flutter. He felt small in the best way. 

Since it wasn’t that late, they decided to turn on a cheesy Christmas movie while they cuddled under the covers. Jisung had trouble keeping his eyes open but he forced himself to stay awake, wanting the moment to last forever. Minho was completely engrossed in the movie but that didn’t stop the hand that was around Jisung from caressing him every now and then. 

By the time they finished their movie, it was a little past midnight and both of them were ready to sleep. Minho crawled under the covers first and opened his arms for Jisung to burrow in against him. Jisung released a content sigh as Minho’s arms came around to hold him. Minho kissed the top of his head, letting the kiss linger for a few seconds before he moved away. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he mumbled against his hair. Jisung’s heart kicked in his chest and he snuggled closer. 

“Merry Christmas, Minho.”

And for the first time in a while, Jisung remembered what Christmas really felt like. Even if he would be leaving soon, this would be worth it. 

-

Minho spent as much time as he could with Jisung during the rest of his time in Korea. Jisung came to visit him in the cafe whenever he was free, and after Minho was done working, he took Jisung out as long as he wasn’t busy with his family or other friends. Jisung also came over to his apartment almost every night. They would have dinner, maybe watch a movie, and then Minho would fuck him until he was a babbling, crying mess underneath him. He felt a little bad for stealing him away from his family so much, but Jisung’s parents seemed to be quite supportive anyway, if their knowing smiles when Minho dropped Jisung off on Christmas morning were anything to go by. 

There was a level of bittersweetness to everything they did. Minho could feel it and he could tell that Jisung felt it too. They were in a bubble, but it wouldn’t be long before reality came crashing down on them and they had to face the fact that Jisung would have to go back to America and they wouldn’t be together. Minho was doing his best to accept it, but it was harder than he could have imagined. He didn’t want to let Jisung go, not when he had just barely gotten him back. 

There was a chance they could do long distance, now that they were older and more mature. But their relationship was still in such a fragile stage that Minho worried the distance would rip them apart again. He couldn’t handle that. 

What made it worse was that Jisung didn’t seem to want to leave either. Minho could see it in his eyes, in the way that he looked at him. He knew it would be hard for them both and that somehow made it worse. Maybe if he knew that Jisung wasn’t feeling the same things he was feeling, and wasn’t falling for him again too, then it would be easier. He could tell himself that it wasn’t meant to be and he shouldn’t waste his time on someone who didn’t even like him the same way. But Jisung did. He could see that now, especially after they spent Christmas Eve together. Minho was losing him all over again and he didn’t know whether he would ever get him back. What if they really did end up getting torn apart again and Jisung chose to never come back to South Korea? How would Minho survive? 

It was New Years Eve when it all came to a head. Minho was with Jisung at a small party hosted by Felix, who had invited them and a few other friends, two of which Minho only had heard of named Seungmin and Jeongin, and one who he learned Jisung had been friends with for a while, who he learned was called Hyunjin. Jisung was lamenting the fact that his friends from America, Changbin and Chan, couldn’t be there to go into the New Year with them, and wouldn’t even be experiencing the New Year for fourteen more hours. At that moment, realization hit Minho like a truck and the drinks he’d had turned sour in his stomach, making him sick. There was no way he could do that. 

He excused himself from the conversation and made his way outside so he could stand in the cold air. Perhaps knock some sense into himself. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and ease the mess in his stomach so he wouldn’t actually get sick. “Fuck,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. Why couldn’t life just be simple? 

After about a minute of alone time, the door opened followed by a quiet, “Minho-hyung?” 

Minho spun around and his eyes met Jisung’s. A lump caught in his throat and he desperately tried to swallow it down. “Hey,” he croaked weakly. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. “You just…left.” His voice held a vulnerability to it that hurt Minho’s heart. He quickly stepped forward and grabbed Jisung’s hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“I’m sorry, jagi,” he said, giving Jisung’s hand a squeeze. That was a new development too since they had spent Christmas Eve together. Jisung seemed to like getting called that and Minho liked calling him that. It was normal for them when they were younger and it felt the same even now. “I just…” He swallowed thickly, the lump crawling back up his throat. “I don’t–” his voice began to crack and he took a deep breath. “I’m not good with words.” 

“That’s okay, take your time,” Jisung urged. He gave Minho a reassuring squeeze of his hand and that gave him the courage to continue. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he began. “I’ve missed you so much. And I’ve loved spending this time with you. More than…more than you even know. And that’s why–that’s why it hurts so fucking much, Hannie. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you’re gone. I’m–I’m falling in love with you all over again and I can’t lose you again. I don’t want you to go but I can’t make you stay—” 

Minho was cut off when Jisung engulfed him in a hug, holding him so tight he almost struggled to take a deep breath. Jisung’s voice came out muffled from where his face was buried into Minho’s shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you either. I don’t. I’ll figure something out, I promise. But we can make it work. Please, let’s try to make it work.” 

Jisung sniffled and his body shook a little and that’s when Minho realized Jisung had started crying. “Oh no, baby, please don’t cry. Fuck, you’ll make me cry. I hate crying, you’ve already seen me cry too much,” he said with a watery laugh. 

“I just don’t want you to leave me. You don’t–I know I left before, but I’m not gonna leave you. I know it’ll be hard.” He lifted his head and moved back enough so that he could make eye contact with Minho. His watery eyes made Minho’s heart clench. He cupped Jisung’s cheek to wipe his tears and Jisung let him. “But can we please try? I promise I’ll do everything to make it work. I’ll visit as often as I can.” 

The promise did ease Minho’s fears but they were still there, sharp and biting. “I just don’t know how…it’s so far,” Minho lamented. “What if…what if you decide it's too much? Or if you decide you want someone else over in America? We’re still…we’ve barely even restarted our relationship. And I know how I feel but I don’t…” 

“I’m falling for you again too, Minho,” Jisung said firmly. “I might…I might already be there. I know it’s fast, but I already loved you in the past. I can love you again. We’re grown up now. I’m–I’m scared too, you know? Cause what if you find someone here? What if you change your mind?” Minho wanted to say that he would never do that, that he could never, but then he realized he would have to apply the same logic to his own thoughts. “But that doesn’t–that doesn’t matter enough for me to not hope.”

Minho nodded and Jisung took a deep breath. “If you…if you really don’t want to try then I understand. I know I may have seemed more chill about this whole thing but…I really think you’re it for me. Why else would we have met up again all these years later?” he asked. 

“You’re right. And I want you to be it for me too. I don’t think I ever fully let you go.” Minho swallowed. He couldn’t let his worries stop him from having Jisung back. He had let his fears stop him in the past, and maybe that was why he was having these issues now. It was probably good for them that they ended things, too young to properly navigate something as complicated as a long distance relationship. But maybe he could do it. For Jisung. For them. 

“I’ll try,” he said finally. “I want to try. So so bad. I’m just scared.” 

“Me too,” Jisung admitted shyly. “Like, really fucking scared. But we’ll be doing it together, right?” He smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. Minho couldn’t help smiling back. 

“You’re right. Together,” he agreed. Jisung’s smile grew wider and he bounced on his heels. 

“See? Now let’s go back inside. I don’t want to miss our midnight kiss. And it’s so cold. What were you thinking, coming out here by yourself anyway, Minho-yah? Trying to get sick,” he grumbled under his breath, making Minho laugh as he dragged him inside. It amazed him how easily Jisung was able to make him feel better. Maybe it was a sign that things would be okay. 

As they counted down the seconds to midnight, eyes locked together as they waited for the clock to hit 00:00, Minho felt it. Like sparks spreading through his chest. A flame igniting, taking over his body. And when Jisung kissed him, smiling so much against his lips that it practically couldn’t even count as a real kiss, and he tasted the decaf candy cane mocha he’d forced Minho to make him to help him sober up, he knew. It would be okay. 

[blurredcolour]

Frostbite & Mistletoe

Summary: An extremely long shift at a Christmas tree lot brings an unexpected customer with an unusual request. Agreeing to help Austin Butler acquire a Christmas tree leads you down a path of rather unexpected events.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Language, Holiday Fluff, Christmas Trees, Car Trouble, Cold, Snow, Exhaustion, Allusions to Mental Health Struggles, Mature/Explicit Themes [Hickeys/Love Bites, Oral – m/f receiving, Condoms, Lube, Manual Stimulation – m/f receiving, Penetrative Sex] – 18+ Only

Author’s Note: This is pure fantasy! While it’s fun to think of going home with a random celebrity, please try to be more circumspect in real life! Also - Thank you for your suspension of disbelief about the weather!

Word Count: 6179

Just twenty minutes more. In twenty minutes, you would be free of the longest day of your life.

Cincinnati, Ohio was certainly not the coldest place on earth but eight hours outside in an unprotected Christmas tree lot had chilled you to the bone. It was a tradition of yours, to volunteer for a few shifts and help raise money for the children’s hospital. It had proven to be one of those winter days where the temperature dropped by the hour and the person scheduled to take over for you never showed up.

Meanwhile, the weather had done nothing to deter the steady flow of customers. So as the sky clouded over, you had agreed to stay and help the next shift until closing at eight. Nineteen minutes to go. Walking down the aisles in your bright orange hi-vis vest, you were tidying and cataloguing the remaining trees. Yet another thing on the never-ending list of shortages and inflated prices. Demand was high as everyone was throwing themselves headlong into a holiday season with every cliché trimming. It was only day one and a third of the stock was already sold.

Over-sized, fluffy snowflakes had been gently falling for the past two hours; so light that they seemed to defy gravity, hanging in the air or some even floating back upwards. If one had to pick the best kind of snow, that would have to be it. The strains of Frank Sinatra’s Christmas Waltz reached your ears for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but you were practically euphoric at the prospect of going home in eighteen minutes and allowed your feet to shuffle across the snow-covered asphalt as you waltzed along to the music.

Frosted windowpanes

Candles gleaming inside

Painted candy canes

On the tree

Seventeen minutes. Spinning dramatically, you turned up the next aisle to continue tidying and collecting inventory.

It’s that time of year

“When the world falls in love, every song you hear…”

Your feet stumbled to an awkward stop as a rich, male voice joined in with Old Blue Eyes from right behind you. You turned quickly to see what you guessed was a long, lanky man bundled up in several layers including a baseball cap, hoodie, and peacoat. A man with azure eyes that were sparkling with mirth at having caught you waltzing to Christmas music in a tree lot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stop…it’s just such a good song…” He grinned, the movement drawing your eyes to his plush, pink lips framed by a golden-blonde goatee.

You hugged your clipboard to your chest as though it were armour that could protect you from your mortification.

“D…do you need any assistance?” You asked, forcing a professionally pleasant expression despite your embarrassment.

“Well…” He chuckled awkwardly, pulling at his lower lip with long, chilled-looking fingers. “I do have a bit of an odd request? I really, really want a tree, but I don’t have a car…Do you do delivery at all? I’d be happy to pay…”

You stared at him, brain struggling to process his request after such a long day.

“But…how did you get here?!” You blurted and winced as maybe that was not the best tone.

“Walked…” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m in town on business and pass by here every day with my driver. I came as soon as I could, but I don’t think I can carry a whole tree back to my rental…”

You swallowed thickly, closing the distance to an appropriate conversation proximity.

“How many blocks?” You asked, looking up at him. Definitely tall.

“Maybe ten?” He cocked an eyebrow, and you felt your throat tighten as you realized you had seen that face before. On a movie screen. On a tv screen. “Look I brought $200 to make it happen, happy to donate it to the cause…well causes. Your hospital and my sanity.” His laugh rang a little hollow.

Swallowing painfully, you managed to clear your throat.

“We close in…” You glanced at your watch. “Fifteen minutes. I have a roof-rack, I can help you.” You smiled softly, hoping to cheer him a little.

The way his eyes lit up…well, like a Christmas tree…brought warmth back into the chilled cheeks. His smile was infectious, and you felt the tired muscles of your face stretch to echo his grin. You took a moment to properly introduce yourself before getting back to business.

“So…what kind of tree are you looking for?” You asked.

He shrugged with an adorable, hopeless expression and shrug of his shoulders. You could not help the laugh that tumbled from your lips.

“Long needles or short?” You started simple.

“Short, like a fake tree but real.” He nodded authoritatively.

“Ok then, let’s walk away from these scotch pines.” You chuckled and led him over to the fir trees.

Working with his description of the space he wanted to fill, you helped him choose a six-foot douglas fir. You moved to pick it up, but he beat you to it, slinging the bundled tree over his shoulder. You paused a moment to appreciate the sheer physical presence of him before swallowing again tightly and leading him up to the cashier. He handed over his two one-hundred-dollar bills to the bewildered woman who, upon your explanation, beamed and tucked it into the cash box.

You handed in your inventory list to the site leader who thanked you for working a double with a great big hug. You shook your head warmly and promised to see him again next weekend, leading Austin over to your somewhat dated, compact SUV. The snow was falling thicker now, clinging to both of your outerwear, making everything dramatically whiter as you strapped the tree to your roof-rack.

“Do you know if your rental has a hacksaw?” You asked curiously.

“Yes! Yes, I checked that. There’s a tree stand, a whole box of decorations, and everything I need…except the tree.” He beamed proudly and you felt warmth emanating from your chest.

“And you’ve fixed that now too. Hop in.” You shook off some of the snow and slid into the driver’s seat as he did the same, sliding in across from you.

The vehicle seemed just as tired as you, the engine turning over sluggishly before it finally roared to life, and you found yourself able to exhale the breath you’d been holding. You cranked the heat before heading out into the rapidly accumulating snow.

“Well, I guess it’s fully winter now…” You muttered and followed his directions to a small home fairly close to downtown.

As your limbs began to thaw, a bone-deep ache of exhaustion bloomed throughout your body. You could not wait to crawl into the tub and stay there for hours, topping up the hot water as needed. You pulled into the driveway. Perched on the doorsills, the two of you worked together to untie the tree before you jumped down to help ease the tree to the ground as he slid it off the back. The angle cause all the accumulated snow on the tree to cascade onto your head and down the gap at the back of your collar. The pathetic gasp was completely involuntary, causing him to leap down and quickly take the tree, looking you over.

“Are you alright?!” He asked, resting the weight of it against his body and gently dusted the snow from your head and shoulders. “I’m so sorry…”

You smiled up at him wearily and shook your head.

“I should have seen that coming…” You sighed ruefully and carried the tree up to the porch.

Making sure the stand was ready in the living room, you held the tree as he cut a slice off the bottom of the trunk, under your instructions. You could tell he wasn’t the most natural handyman, but precision was not a huge concern here. Using the screws in the stand, you made sure the tree was standing up straight before filling the well with fresh water.

“You need to water it every day.” You instructed him as you ensured the heating vent behind the tree was closed. “And never leave the lights on when you’re not home.”

“Thank you.” He smiled as he saw you back out to your car. “Really, you have saved the holidays for me, thank you.” He repeatedly earnestly and held his arms open. “May I give you a hug?” He asked before sinking his teeth into his lower lip.

You regarded him with wide eyes for a moment before nodding shyly as you looked to the side and shuffled forward into those open arms. He wrapped them around you tightly, surrounding you in warmth and the heady scent of cinnamon and black pepper. Your exhaustion had you forgetting all sense of propriety as you leaned into his chest with a deep, contented sigh. You’d never fit so well into someone’s arms before…

With one last squeeze, he pulled back slightly.

“I should let you get home; you must be exhausted.” He smiled gently and you nodded, dumbstruck at how truly gorgeous this man was.

“I’m crawling into a hot bath and staying there until tomorrow.” You managed to murmur and tensed as you realized you were close enough to feel, as well as see, the warm puffs of air falling from his lips. “Have a good night.” You said quickly as you pulled back and waved somewhat awkwardly before climbing into the car.

As that sluggish, shuddering sound emanated from your engine once more, your initial reaction was denial. It worked last time, you just needed to try again. And again. And…and then it wasn’t even making a sound at all. You pressed your forehead to the steering wheel, taking deep calming breaths as the temptation to just cry was overwhelming. Thankfully you remembered your AAA membership and quickly dug out your phone and membership card.

Austin knocked on your window and you rolled it down.

“I’m gonna call for a boost…” You sighed and dialed the number on the back of the card.

“Come inside before you get frostbite…” He insisted, opening your door. You sighed as the recorded voice assured you ‘your call is important to us’ and followed him in without argument. It was nowhere near cold enough for frostbite, but his concern was genuine and touching.

You sat at the kitchen island and quietly watched him get a kettle boiling as the overly cheerful hold music played in your ear. As he shucked off his winter coat and pulled off his hoodie, you gulped audibly at the peek of his tanned, toned abdomen as his white t-shirt caught on the fabric.

“Put it on speaker, I don’t mind. Let me take your coat so you can warm up properly.” He smiled and held out his hand as you quietly obeyed. You could not help but watch the way his bicep bunched at the weight of your sodden jacket.

“Hello this is John speaking, how may I help you?” A human voice suddenly filled the room and you fumbled with the phone to answer as he took your coat to hang it up to dry.

“Six hours?!” You cried out incredulously at the service estimate and the agent issued a litany of apologies. You were furious and seriously questioning why you paid for this service, but poor John sounded just as tired as you felt, and you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Ok, thanks.” You ended the call and looked to Austin pathetically as he filled two mugs with tea bags and boiling water.

“Must be the cold and all the snow out there…” He murmured sympathetically.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll get a cab or something and come back when they call.” You opened your ride share app and gasped at the wait times. Your last-ditch effort was the taxi app, but the fare estimate was murder.

Sliding a mug of tea to you, Austin leaned in.

“This is entirely my fault, please. Please just stay here until they can come.” He looked up at you pleading through his lashes. “There isn’t a tub but there’s a shower and I can get your clothes dry and…”

You blinked back tears of frustration yet again and took a shaky breath. The snow dump that had covered you had now melted in the warmth of his rental and had water dripping from the ends of your hair onto your shirt. Completely disarmed by cold and fatigue, you were helpless against that look. That pleading.

“Ok…” You breathed meekly and sniffed. “Sorry, it’s just been a hell of a day…” You apologized, gesturing at tears that had snuck into your eyes despite your best efforts.

He pulled you in for another reassuring hug and you sighed warmly.

“No apologies” He smiled and stepped back, holding out his hand. “C’mon, shower’s this way.”

You took it slowly with yours, marveling at the way his warm skin completely enveloped yours, making you shiver deeply.

“You’re freezing…” He frowned and tugged you to your feet before leading you quickly down the hall, past the stairs. “Robe for you to wear, stay as long as you like. Lock on the door too.” He touched the items as he mentioned them before stepping out to leave you in peace.

Stripping off your wet clothes, you stepped into the warm spray of the shower with a deep moan, not being mindful of your volume at all. It just felt far too good. You shuffled back to sit on the shower bench and let your skin soak in the warm water. After a good ten minutes you finally felt the ache and tension leave your muscles. Coming to your feet, you borrowed whatever was in the shower to wash your hair and body before you turned off the water. Stepping out in a cloud of steam, you towelled off before pulling your underclothes back on, putting the robe on top.

Carrying your damp clothes, you rejoined him in the kitchen, smiling softly to see him ladling hot soup into bowls.

“That was a lot shorter than I thought you’d be.” He smiled. “But I’ve got dinner ready!”

“Truly, this is beyond generous, thank you very, very much.” You shook your head in awe.

“Here let me put those in the dryer really quick. You eat.” He set a bowl and spoon on the counter and snagged your clothes before disappearing downstairs.

Sitting down, you dug in happily, groaning a little a how hungry you suddenly realized you were. You’d eaten nearly half before he reappeared to join you, chuckling and giving you a few pieces of bread to mop up every last drop. He sat beside you, eating his own bowl as you leaned heavily on the counter, making small talk about the weather or something. Honestly, now that you were fed and warm, you found it quite difficult to keep your eyes open.

“Why don’t we go sit on the couch…” He offered generously and you nodded, shuffling after him.

You grabbed the thick, cozy blanket that was draped over the back of it and wrapped it around your legs before sitting down carefully. Through your drooping eyelids as you watched him turn on the gas fireplace.

“So how long do I have to wait to decorate again?” He asked as he sat down at the other end of the couch.

Inhaling through your nose while rolling your shoulders back, you tried to wake yourself.

“A couple of hours. The branches will relax, and you’ll smell the pine when it’s ready.” You nodded before giving in to the temptation to rest your head back against the couch. You briefly felt a surge of guilt as you had a fleeting recognition that you were falling asleep but were too far gone to do a thing about it.

The sound of soft curses, muttered under Austin’s breath, sunk into your consciousness and your eyes flashed open. You were fully curled up on the couch, tucked under the blanket, and Austin was fighting with a tangled string of tree lights on the floor before you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry…” You hastily apologized and sat up.  “How long was I asleep?”

He glanced at you before clearing his throat and looking back to the task before him. You glanced down at the gaping robe and quickly covered yourself, pulling the belt tight again.

“A couple. Don’t worry about it, I had some work to do. But now, now it’s time to decorate this tree. As long as I can get these untangled.” He muttered bitterly and you carefully slid to your knees on the floor across from him.

“Let me help.” You smiled softly and worked patiently at the various snags until all the lights were stretched out and ready to wrap the tree.

You looked over to it, smiling as it did indeed look perfectly ready to decorate.

“You picked a very nice one.” You carried the first string over to begin weaving the lights through the branches.

He beamed brightly and you were grateful that the tree bore the brunt of that blinding smile. For two people who had only met a few hours before, there was remarkably no sniping, and no heated comments as you worked together on a typically frustrating task. You were about halfway up the tree, and thus far your soundtrack had been Austin humming snippets of an assortment of holiday songs. The brief contact of his fingers against yours as you handed off the string of lights caused shivers of electricity to flash across your skin. You snuck glances at his profile while he was busily weaving the lights on his side of the tree, and felt, more than saw, him doing the same – the heat of his gaze tingling along your skin. He always looked away when you raised your head, however. That is until his eyes deliberately sought yours through the curtain of pine needles.

“May I ask you a question?” He asked solemnly.

His tone of voice was so serious it made you hesitate, uncertain if you were honestly awake enough to engage in a meaningful conversation while half-inserted into a tree. Straightening your back, you nodded, trying to convince yourself that there was little he could ask that would be truly catastrophic.

“Sure” You nodded, hoping your tone registered as light and care-free.

“Do you consider Die Hard to be a Christmas movie?” He continued in that serious tone but that spark of mischief was back in those sapphire eyes.

You stared at him, jaw slack, stunned. Leaning around the tree, trying to read if this was a joke of not, you saw his lips trembling with the effort not to smirk.

“I was fully prepared for you to ask me something….I don’t know, sensitive?!” You exclaimed with a guffaw of laughter.

“Some people find this a very sensitive topic!” He countered before losing control of his face and breaking out into giggles.

You could not help but join in, letting your head fall back as your laughter came from deep inside you, somehow erasing a large portion of your disgruntlement over the events of your no-good, terrible day. Eventually you were able to contain yourself and you cleared your throat before answering.

“Absolutely. It takes place during a Christmas party, features Christmas music, and Hans Gruber even says ‘ho ho ho’” You nodded emphatically.

“Ho, ho, ho” He grinned as he delivered a very convincing impersonation of Alan Rickman’s German accent.

After the laughter subsided you tilted your head.

“In that same vein….Is Hallelujah a Christmas song?” The lights were winding higher and it was a bit of a stretch for you….not for him though.

“Absolutely not.” He replied firmly, lips drawing into a thin line as he shook his head. “It’s literally about an intense and painful relationship. Nothing festive. Not even in the same orbit as the holidays.”

You nodded in agreement.

“This tree-decorating partnership can continue.” You grinned. “Though, I might just be support at this point.” You commented as he easily wrapped the lights all the way to the top before plugging the string into the star.

“Now we see how it looks!” He said excitedly, turning off the overhead light before plugging in the tree.

The glow of the multi-coloured lights was a comforting as a hug from each one of your holiday memories delivered directly to your heart.

“Incredible…” He sighed contentedly and you nodded, somewhat speechless.

You turned to look up at him, recalling that sense of heavy sadness he’d had when discussing his sanity back in the tree lot, and swallowed to see hit tanned face lit by both the tree and the firelight. He was a work of art come to life before your very eyes. The lines of worry had also eased across his features, leaving an adorable exuberance. You had a feeling that the duality of this man could easily obsess scholars for centuries…

So deep in your own thoughts you were, that you did not notice that his own eyes were tracing your features in turn, a contemplative expression falling over his face.

“Are you up to some more decorating?” He asked softly and you watched the way his lips caressed the words he spoke.

“Mmmmhm” You intoned, biting your lip at the hum of desire in your lower abdomen.

The glare of passing headlights beaming through the front window jarred you from your state and you cleared your throat, quickly kneeling to unpack the rest of the decorations from the box. You had already thrown caution to the wind and put yourself in a very vulnerable position with a total, albeit famous, stranger. There was no need to make it more complicated…despite the throb between your thighs.

“Definitely a coordinated person’s decorations…” You chuckled softly as you pulled eight boxes of matching Christmas ornaments in neutral shades.

Kneeling down across you he chuckled softly.

“Given how they decorated the rest of the house, this does not surprise me at all.” He hung a couple of them on his fingers before taking them to the tree to continue decorating.

Collecting your own assortment, you focused on the lower branches, being sure to reach in and hang some closer to the trunk to give the tree dimension. You did not notice the way the branches of the tree pulled at the robe, loosening it once more. Nor the way that it slipped off your shoulder as you knelt over the remaining boxes of ornaments, opening them up for ease of access. That is, until he knelt beside you, tracing the backs of his fingers across your shoulder and down your bicep. You shivered softly as his touch raised goosebumps in its wake.

“Mmmm sorry…” He murmured and leaned in to press an apologetic kiss to your skin with lips that felt just as soft as you had imagined. “Your skin just looks so soft…” He whispered, the tickle of his facial hair making you gasp raggedly.

As his eyes snapped to yours at that sound, a thrill of heat ran through you at their noticeably darker appearance. His lips stretched into something markedly predatory as he raised an eyebrow before slowly raising his eyes to the ceiling above you. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head back to follow his gaze, your entire body freezing at the sight of a swag of artificial mistletoe hanging from the light fixture. Leaning in, you felt his goatee tickle against your ear.

“Caught you…” He murmured.

The way his lips and warm breath caressed your skin made you tremble from head to toe. A choked-off sigh fell from his lips, and you turned your face towards his, noses brushing due to his proximity. Your eyes flicked up to his before falling back to his lips. You’d done the ‘right’ thing all damn day and it had led to an accidental double and a dead car. Now? Now you were going to do what you wanted.

“Better kiss me…don’t want any more bad luck…” You breathed shakily.

“Very true…” He whispered in return, hands rising to frame your face as he leaned in to close the last few inches of distance between you.

With a tilt of his head, he fit his lips firmly against yours. Your eyelids fluttered closed at the silky warmth of his mouth, your body turning towards his full as you reached up to cup his cheeks in return. He pulled back a little, looking over your face as your heavy breaths mingled in the space between you. You glanced up at his eyes briefly before pulling his lips back against yours, sighing happily. Licking at the seam of his lips, your tongue begged entrance.

He grunted happily and hungrily greeted your tongue with his, one hand traveling down your throat and over your shoulder to press against the flesh of your back beneath the robe, pulling you closer. You raised up on your knees to correct the height differential and raked your hands through his carefully tousled hair. You delighted in carding your hands through it, disordering it completely. A mutual need for air had your lips parting and you quickly pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his sharp jawline and down his neck to lap at the hollow of his throat.

With a soft growl, and eager arch of his neck, his hands moved to grasp the backs of your thighs and haul you up to straddle his lap. You whimpered against his damp skin and licked a wide stripe up along his adam’s apple back towards his lips. He caught your lips in a searing kiss, tongue pressing into your mouth eagerly, making you both hum happily at the delicious feeling of his wet muscle sliding against yours.

Wriggling a little, you encouraged the robe to gape open completely, allowing you to settle fully against the growing bulge in his jeans. His fingers slid up under the edges of the robe to grip at the skin of your hips, chest rumbling eagerly as you undulated against him. Pulling back, your chest heaved as you mewled at the feel of his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. Gripping at his shoulders, you ground against him with more intent, shivering as you felt his hands yanking at the knot in the robe’s sash. You dropped your hands to help him slide it completely from your body.

Supporting your spine with his forearm, he swept the ornament boxes to the side and lay you back on the plush rug. You stared up at him in awe as the glow of the fire caressed his features from behind you while the Christmas lights painted a riot of colour onto him from the side.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” You let the thoughts tumble from your lips without even trying to hold back.

You watched as he drank in your figure, only your underclothes obscuring his view, thumb and forefinger pinching and pulling at his lower lip.

“Bold words from a heavenly creature like yourself…” He whispered in a hushed sort of awe before covering your body with his, suckling your collarbone as his free hand traced along the planes of your chest and abdomen.

Arching into his touch needily, you began to gather the back of his t-shirt into your fists, pulling the hem higher before you tugged it up to his shoulders. He rose up briefly to shed the interfering cotton before quickly divesting you of your underclothes, baring you completely to his heated gaze.

“To think I got to unwrap you under my Christmas tree.” He grinned lopsidedly, eyes twinkling with that mischief as you rolled your own playfully at his seasonal corniness.

Chuckling to himself, he dragged his lips along your collarbone before kissing down your sternum. He briefly diverted to flick his tongue across each of your nipples before he continued his journey down your body. The muscles of your abdomen flinched at the tickle of his facial hair, making you chuckle breathlessly. His eyes, now nearly black as his pupils had devoured the blue of his irises, watched your face intently as he skipped over the desperate place that wanted his touch the most before pressing his lips to your right knee cap. His long fingers wrapped around the outside of your thighs and gently, yet insistently, parted your legs.

Sealing his lips around the tender flesh of your inner thigh, he sucked at your skin eagerly, drawing a shuddering gasp from beneath your breastbone.

“Austin…” You exhaled the extra oxygen that had brought into your lungs, fingers once again twining into his sandy locks.

He fairly purred against you before pulling back, licking his lips as he turned his head to treat your other thigh to the same, if only a little closer to where you really wanted his mouth. His fingers massaged your outer thighs as he sucked a series of deep purple marks higher and higher on your inner thighs until you were quivering with need.

“Please…” You keened and tugged on his hair as you felt his hot, damp exhales against the source of your pleasure, back arching and hips squirming as you ached for his mouth.

“Who am I to deny you…” He replied, voice roughened by desire before he, at last, lay his mouth against you.

Your anguished moan echoed through the room as you clenched your eyes shut tightly, chest heaving, breaths harsh. His hands wrapped around your hips, holding them down as they were bucking against his face needily. The familiar tingling began to blossom at the base of your spine, making your toes curl and heels dig into the rug.

“I’…I’m close…Austin!” You gasped out and then whimpered as he pulled his mouth away, eyes flashing open to watch him lick at his goatee-framed lips.

“Just wait right here…” He rasped; voice notably deeper.

He pressed a brief but fierce kiss to your lips before rising to his feet. You gnawed on your lower lip at the distinct outline of his cock in his jeans before he disappeared up the stairs. He was not gone a full minute before he returned with a bottle of lube at the telltale foil packet of a condom.  Pushing yourself up with unsteady arms, you reached out to take said items from him to free up his hands. Setting them aside you waited until he stretched out on the rug beside you before pushing him to his back, pining him by straddling his hips as you kissed him hungrily.

He groaned hungrily into kiss as you ground along the length of him through his jeans before sliding back onto his thighs and working his belt and fly open. Inserting your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you raised up to strip him entirely in one greedy motion, tossing the clothing aside as you settled back onto his thighs. Drinking in the sight of his needy cock, you picked up the bottle of lube, delighting in the way his length twitched as you drizzled it with the slick substance.

Your name fell from his lips needily as he gripped your thighs, hips straining towards you, raised from the rug. You swallowed thickly as you wrapped your hand around his girth, rutting against his thighs at the noise of pure sin that emanated from his throat. You could not get enough of the way expressions of pleasure flitted across his features as you traced his tip with your thumb before sliding your fist up and down the length of him torturously slow. His breathing was beginning to shallow, abdominal muscles trembling when you pulled your hand back. A taste of his own medicine while also ensuring he would last long enough to put that impressive cock inside you.

His eyes flashed open with a slight glare, but he sat up and grabbed the sides of your jaw, pulling you close for a sloppy kiss full of teeth and tongues. Groping blindly, you managed to locate a pillow on the couch and pulled it down to set it on the ground beside him, pulling back to stretch out on your front, hips propped up on said pillow as you looked at him meaningfully.

He did not need any further instruction, taking the lube in hand as he coated his fingers before easing them into your entrance with thoughtful patience.

“Fuck, look at you all needy and on offer for me…” He groaned and you pressed your forehead into the rug, shuddering with a groan of your own as he worked you open, preparing you for his sizeable length.

He pulled his fingers from you, and you canted your hips back, chasing the feeling as you glanced back at him over your shoulder. You watched with hooded eyes as he carefully rolled the protective latex over his cock, pumping it a few times indulgently, before stretching out over your body. Sinking into you slowly, inch by inch, you moan deeply at the stretch and fullness of him.

“Oh Austin!” You cried out, curling your fingers into rug.

“I know, oh fuck, I know” He panted, hands pressing into the backs of yours, fingers sliding between yours once he was seated inside you fully.

You felt his nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck, hips rocking against yours and, in turn, rocking the source of your pleasure into the pillow. You felt that same sucking pressure now against the back of your neck as he slowly slid out before quickly sliding back into you, leaving yet another mark on your body. Keeping your legs tightly together by squeezing them between his knees, he made sure you felt every single ridge and bulging vein of him as his rhythmic thrusts drove you both closer and closer toward release.

Each snap of his hips against yours had your body rocking forward, the rug applying delicious friction to your nipples, ripping pathetic whimpers and keens from you as your thighs between to quiver between his knees.

“You’re…going to…?” He panted against the damp mark on your neck, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin.

“S’close.” You slurred in the plush fabric beneath you, arching back tightly against his torso.

“Oh yes…please…please…cum…for me….”He rambled, punctuating every few words with an insistent thrust of his hips that had your legs drumming against the floor as your release broke over you in waves of shimmering colour behind your eyelids and a nonsensical wail that ripped from your throat.

Pressing his face into the crook of your shoulder, his thrusts became erratic and sharper until he came with a hoarse cry of your name, rutting against you as he filled the condom. You could feel him trembling from head to toe above you, yet he still managed to carefully pull out and roll to the side before collapsing on the rug between you and the tree.

Resting your cheek against the rug, you drank in his debauched form, painted in ethereal, multicoloured light. Extracting the destroyed pillow from beneath you, you tossed it aside and shuffled to lay on your side next to him. Gently, you freed him from the condom, tying it closed and struggling to your feet to dispose of it in the washroom. Grabbing the blanket from the couch on your return, you cuddled up next to him, wrapping your still-trembling bodies in warmth.

He grinned at you warmly, kissing your forehead. You thought he might fall asleep, but instead he began asking you questions about your life in Cincinnati – job, friends, family, holiday traditions… You grinned a little as you were definitely doing this get-to-know-you thing in the wrong order, but you were happy to answer and ask him questions in kind. You ended up talking for hours in the low light, his fingers tracing the features of your face endlessly. Whenever his fingertips neared your lips, you would press a soft kiss to them. You did not notice who fell asleep first, though it was most likely you. The sounds of your phone ringing, however, jarred you both away in the deep, pre-dawn darkness. You struggled a little to answer it, blinking your brain into focus as a voice on the other end was saying something about your service call arriving soon…Groggily, you asked them to repeat the message before it clicked.

“Oh!” You exclaimed at the sudden return of cognitive function.

Looking down at the drowsy man beside you, his fingers stroking along your arm warmly, you swallowed and shook your head before remembering you needed to speak to communicate during a phone call.

“No longer needed, sorry I didn’t call sooner…no not at all…thank you…” You ended the call and turned to Austin as he sat up and kissed your shoulder warmly. “Bed?” You asked and he nodded quickly, helping you to your feet. You turned off the tree and the fireplace, before the pair of you headed up the stairs where you remained for the next twelve hours.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 11 | Chocolate lovers

Pairing | Boyfriend!Dad!Young!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Mom!Female!Reader

Word count | 3.7K

Summary | Your daughter, Orion, has been wanting hot chocolate as a treat for a while now, and you and Tony are finally giving her just that. Though Tony's sweet tooth craves something much sweeter, he can't help but make it even more delicious by adding some sweet chocolate syrup.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Tooth rotting fluff, smut (cockwarming, lazily making out, food play (chocolate sauce), hair pulling, nipple play, fingering, oral (F&M receiving), face fucking, cumming untouched, squirting, multiple orgasms, aftercare).

Prompt(s) | 11. Sweet tooth + Alt 1. Hot chocolate | @flufftober

A/n | This one shot is written for day 11 of Flufftober 2023, and it is part of my AU called 'love of my life'. It can be read as a standalone or combined with the rest of my AU. I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | GIF-credit goes to @ladyeliot

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

"Mommy? Can we have cocoa night?" your daughter Orion asks as you walk into the store. She's seated in your cart, and your son Hudson is in your boyfriend's.

The season has slowly been changing from warm summer to colder autumn days, and you absolutely love it, so you happily agree with your daughter.

"Course we can, Babygirl. What do you think, Tony? Want to make it a hot cocoa night tonight?" you ask as you walk through the produce aisle, looking at some vegetables for dinner.

"Hmm, that sounds like the perfect plan! But we need to make it early because we're having a big day tomorrow, remember? We're going to the zoo tomorrow!" Tony reminds you and the kids, who both happily cheer in their way.

When all the necessary groceries are loaded into the cart, you are on your way to the aisle with everything needed for a perfect hot chocolate. You're getting multiple flavors, many different sizes of marshmallows, and candy canes.

"How about we get some chocolate syrup for our pleasure later tonight?" Tony whispers into your ear, and you feel yourself getting wet at the thought alone, and you happily agree.

When Tony loaded the small syrup bottle into his cart, you were all done, and the four of you made your way to the register. As usual, the cashiers always coo to Hudson and Orion, who eat up every bit of attention they can get, and you understand entirely; they're the most adorable children ever.

You get behind the wheel when you're all done, and Tony sits on the passenger side. It's quite a drive back to the house, and since Tony drove on the way to the store, you're driving back home.

"I love you, Sunshine," he says as he brings your hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on your knuckles as he looks at you through his lashes, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

The drive back to your house went down without a hitch, and the twins even fell asleep about halfway through the drive, for which you are both very thankful.

You managed to transfer the twins to their beds without waking them up, and Tony was putting the food away when he suddenly came across the chocolate sauce again. It had already slipped his mind that you had bought it, but he'd use it well later.

When you're walking back to the living room, Tony meets you halfway, and without warning, he pulls you closer, planting a soft, tender kiss on your lips that has your panties soaked in no time.

When you pull away, you look at him through half-lidded eyes, a big smile breaking out. "What was that for?"

"No reason; I just felt like kissing my beautiful girlfriend and the most amazing mother of my children," he says, looking at you with pure adoration.

When he moved even closer, you suddenly felt that he was getting hard, and it suddenly clicked in your brain. A grin not unlike that of the Cheshire cat forms as you pull him toward the couch, a plan forming in your mind.

He pulls you onto the couch so you'll be straddling him, your dress hiking up slightly as you do so. "Can I keep you warm until one of the twins wakes up?" you ask innocently.

"Of course, Sunshine," Tony says, and you open his belt and pants enough to pull out his now almost uncomfortably hard dick before pushing your panties to the side and letting yourself slide down.

You let out a hiss as you feel him filling you up, the slight stretch giving a delicious and pleasurable feeling as you let out a soft moan once he's slipped in completely.

You let your head fall against his shoulder, and Tony places soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, his hands rubbing lovingly over your back as the two of you sit like this for a few minutes, basking in each other's love and warmth.

When you've adjusted to him, you lift your head and give him a soft peck on his lips, after which your kisses slowly get deeper and more passionate. The two of you enjoy a lazy make-out session for half an hour until you suddenly hear feet trotting your way.

"Duty calls," you say with a breathy laugh before lifting yourself off of Tony and swiftly adjusting your underwear while Tony stuffs himself away quickly and right on time.

"Daddy!" Orion says before falling into Tony's arms, and he puts her on his thigh for a sleepy cuddle, their favorite thing to do. Orion is the true definition of a Daddy's girl, but Hudson, on the other hand, is a total Momma's boy, and you're not mad at that.

"Hi, Babygirl," he says as he pulls her close, and she completely melts into his arms, like you did not long before. Like mother, like daughter, they say.

"I'm going to wake up Hudson, okay? After I get started on dinner," you said, and he nodded before craning his neck, begging for a once more kiss. He could never get enough of tasting you in whichever way possible.

"Hi, Babyboy," you say as you walk into the twins' shared bedroom, and he immediately pulls his happiest face as he sees you. Once he's sitting, he makes grabby hands at you, and you crouch down to let him wrap his arms around your neck, his cheek pressed against yours.

"Shall we make some warm milk for you and your sister? As a little treat for taking such a good nap?" you ask, and he happily nods, his thumb in his mouth as he curls into your side, his favorite place to be when you carry him.

Right now, they're still small enough to carry around, but you're dreading the day when you can't pick them up anymore, though you try not to think too hard about that.

"Orion, would you like some warm milk as well as a treat for taking the best nap ever?" you ask as you walk into the living room; she's curled into Tony's side, her thumb in her mouth, and she nods.

You and Hudson walk into the kitchen, and he has pulled his thumb out of his mouth and told you about something that happened in a cartoon; you listen intently while keeping an eye on the milk as it's warming up.

When it's warmed up, you put some honey in for both of them and put it in their respective cups to enjoy when all four of you are sitting on the couch.

"Here you go," you say as you hand the cup to Orion, and she starts drinking immediately. When you sit down, you curl into Tony's other side so Hudson can have his milk.

Both kids are fully awake but entranced by the cartoons they watch when their milk is gone. "Do you want to cuddle with Mommy, Babygirl? That way, I can start dinner," Tony asks Orion.

"Okay," she says with a small voice and crawls over Tony into your lap, occupying the space on your free thigh. She grabs Hudson's hand, and the three of you sit like that, all while you're trying not to die from absolute cuteness right now.

Tony looks at the sight in front of him as he's fighting against the tears, his three greatest loves all cuddled up and comfy on the couch. He snaps a quick picture before sending it in their family group chat and getting started on dinner not long after.

Dinner was gone before you knew it, and you promised the kids some hot chocolate before bed, so that's precisely what you'll do.

"Love, would you mind giving them a bath while I prepare the hot chocolates for everyone?" you ask, and he nods before taking the kids to the bathroom and bathing them.

In the meantime, you're getting all the toppings for the hot chocolate ready in little bowls so that everyone can build their own, though there will be some restrictions for the twins. Otherwise, they'll fill it up with marshmallows.

When the different sizes of marshmallows, candy canes, and other chocolatey goodness are on the table, you're preparing the milk, and based on the amount of laughter coming from the bathroom, the kids are also done with their bath.

About 10 minutes later, the twins run up to you wearing matching gingerbread men's pajamas, making them look adorable.

"Alright, let's get you both in your chairs so we can all have some hot chocolate together," you say before lifting them one by one in their chairs, shortly followed by Tony, who pulls you in for a soft, short kiss.

"We're ready for our hot chocolates," he says, taking his usual place at the dinner table. You give Orion and Hudson their hot chocolate with half a sachet of hot chocolate mix each due to the amount of sugar, and you and Tony have a regular one.

Everyone made their perfect hot chocolates, and the kids both had one extra marshmallow as a treat on the side, which they both happily nibbled on while drinking their hot chocolate. And your evening feels perfect as it warms your heart.

"Shall I bring you two Munchkins to bed? Daddy can clean up here while I tuck you two into bed," you ask, and both Orion and Hudson nod sleepily, and you and Tony can't help but chuckle at the sight.

It only takes half a story for them to be into a deep sleep, and you ensure the baby monitor in their room is on before closing the door and helping Tony in the kitchen with the clean-up.

When you enter the kitchen, Tony finishes the clean-up, leaning against the counter with the chocolate syrup bottle beside him. You had completely forgotten about it then, but he hasn't.

As you approach him, he reaches out his hand, which you happily take, and he pulls you towards himself, wrapping his arms around your waist until your chest is touching his, and he gives you a sweet, shy smile before closing the gap between you two.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against yours, and you let him take the lead, opening your mouth instantly as you feel him licking against your lips.

You moan softly when you can taste Tony and some of the chocolate sauce he squirted onto his tongue, making your mind go crazy. The sweetness of the chocolate combined with Tony's usual minty taste has you slipping into a fuzzy headspace, and you try to pull him impossibly closer.

Tony's hands wander over your back upwards until he's reached your neck, one hand gripping tightly while the other slides up into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you groan loudly while his tongue runs over your throat, leaving a faint trail of chocolate behind.

But that wasn't enough for him, oh no. Tony has a sweet tooth beyond belief, and you have not seen the last of this syrup bottle yet.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he picks you up and puts you on the counter, and you spread your legs instantly, letting Tony take his place between them.

"C'mon, pull that zipper down for me, Sunshine," Tony says as his hands slowly rub your thighs, his hungry gaze fixed on your chest.

You tease him a little by pulling down your straps one by one and unzipping the front of your dress ever so slowly. You're completely naked underneath your clothing, which makes the reveal so much better, though his eyes almost burn a hole in your chest.

When it's completely undone, you let the fabric fall onto the counter, making Tony growl from deep within his chest when he sees you've been naked this entire time.

"Hmm, can't believe you've been naked under here for me this entire time, Sunshine," he says before leaning down and attaching his mouth to your nipple, letting his hand play with the other until he has an idea.

"Lean back a little for me, Sunshine. Wouldn't want this chocolate syrup to go everywhere after all," Tony says, and you do, laying your underarms on the counter as you lean back, leaning on them while Tony flips the bottle open.

He drizzles some of the chocolate syrup on your nipples, and it's a bit cold, but the thick sauce gives a pleasurable feeling to your pebbled buds.

"Can't wait to make a dripping mess of you," Tony says before he pokes his tongue out and licks over your hard nipple, lapping the chocolate sauce up while his hands keep inching closer to where you need him most.

"Please," you beg as your head falls back. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, yet there doesn't seem to be enough all at the same time. Something about him licking chocolate sauce off of you makes everything ten times hotter, and Tony is already rock hard, though he's taking care of you first.

"What is it that you want, Sunshine? Can't give you what you want unless you tell me," he says with a slightly degrading tone, and the pool of arousal between your legs grows with them.

"Want your fingers, Tony! Want to cum on your fingers," you tell him as he licks and sucks the chocolate sauce off your other nipple.

"Open your mouth first," he orders, and you do, sticking out your tongue as he holds up the syrup bottle, letting him squirt some on your tongue before capturing your mouth again, licking the sauce off your tongue.

"Good girl," he says, and the moan you let out as two of his long, thick fingers are pushed into your dripping cunt is honestly obscene. The pleasure you're feeling is so much that within a few short thrusts of his fingers, you cum with a broken moan of his name.

Your thighs tremble as Tony works you through your orgasm precisely to ensure he can prolong it for as long as possible. "Fuck me, please," you breathe out, but he doesn't grant your wish yet.

"I'll make you fall apart on my cock later, Sunshine, but right now, I want a taste of my delicious pussy, especially after she's been squeezing my fingers during your orgasm," Tony says with a mischievous look in his eyes.

He pulls you to the edge of the counter with a yelp, bends down to attach his mouth to your wet folds, and starts licking and sucking every last drop of your arousal.

You moan, and in the back of your head, you're thankful you have two deep sleepers. Otherwise, this would have been a different type of evening.

Tony groans as his tongue goes into your entrance, and his thumb is making steady work of your clit. Your hands find their way into his hair, and before he can even warn you what's happening, he cums into his pants from the combination of the hair pulling, eating you out, and your sounds.

He keeps building you up with a renewed vigor, and before you know it, you're falling apart again. A familiar rush of warm fluid rushes through you, and you squirt all over his face and the kitchen floor.

"Fuck, taste so good when you squirt for me, Sunshine," he says before licking up every last drop from your thighs and oversensitive pussy.

"Is too much," you say as you push him away, and he listens, instead opting to pull you in for a deep kiss that has your head reeling after the intense pleasure he gave you just now.

"Let's continue this in the bedroom, yeah? Made a mess of myself because of you, Sunshine. Came without you even touching me when you pulled my hair," he says as he picks you up, and you wrap your legs and arms around him so he can carry you to the bedroom.

"Love you so much, My Love," you sigh as you let him carry you.

When you're in the bedroom, Tony puts the chocolate sauce he brought with him on the nightstand, letting you lay down on the and taking his clothes off.

"Fuck, you made a big mess for me to clean up, didn't you?" you say, looking at the state of his clothes and the cum clinging everywhere. But that's not what surprised you most, but the fact that he is still hard is unexpected after the orgasm he just had.

You get up to sit on your knees as he walks to the edge of the bed and instantly stick out your tongue as he's close, ready to lick every last drop of cum off of him.

"Hmm, you look like a perfect cockslut like this, Sunshine; I should have you on your knees more often," Tony says while squeezing your cheeks with his left hand, his right one finding its place in your hair.

You lean forward, and as soon as you lick the cum off his tip, he lets out a deep groan because he's still sensitive after the orgasm, despite being fully hard again.

When he's all cleaned up, you take him into your hand and rub slowly up and down over his shaft, and you can't help but tease him a little with some kitten licks over his tip, which earns you a tug on your hair, making you moan.

"P-please, let me suck you off," you say, and he nods, so you don't waste any more time before taking his tip into your mouth and sucking in your cheek before slowly taking more of him.

The moan he lets out when you do that makes your cunt throb, but you're choosing to ignore it for now, instead wanting to make Tony feel like an angel is touching him. Though if you ask him, he already is.

The grip he had on your face is finally gone as he places both hands in your hair and sets a rough pace, fucking your face in earnest as he hears you gag, and the tears are streaming down your face as you look up at him.

"Oh, fuck," he groans through gritted teeth as he sets a brutal pace, and you're nails are digging into his thighs while you try to keep eye contact with him, which isn't as easy as you may have thought.

The pain your nails provide and the pleasure he feels make him fall apart very quickly, and before you know it, you're swallowing every last drop he gives you.

When he pulls out, he sits down next to you on the bed and quickly pulls you into his arms to calm you down a little, and he's genuinely concerned about your well-being when he sees you're crying.

"Are you okay, Sunshine? Did I go too far?" he asks between the kisses he's peppering on your face and hair, but you shake your head. He didn't go too far, but it was just a little unexpected, and you're still coming down from it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it that far," he whispers as you're trying to fight your tears, but to no avail. He wipes the tears away with his thumbs and holds you close until you've come down from everything.

"It's okay, Sunshine. I'm here with you," he whispers as he pulls the comforter over you and shifts a little, sitting against the bed's headboard while you're calming down in his arms.

"S-Sorry-" you croak out, but he doesn't let you apologize. "There's nothing to say sorry for, Sunshine. You've been perfect, and I'm sorry I may have pushed it too far. You've done nothing wrong; you're always doing so well for me," Tony tells you, and you believe him.

You just lay in his arms for a while, even after the tears stop. After fifteen minutes, you're finally ready to talk about it, and you're glad Tony is always willing to listen.

"I-I was a little… overwhelmed," you start, and Tony looks at you with interest and gives you his full attention.

"It's not that it was unpleasant at all, but we should have talked about it first. I'm not against it, and I won't mind you doing it again… Just not any time soon, okay?" you say with pleading eyes, and he wholeheartedly agrees.

"I should be saying sorry, Sunshine. I got carried away, and I didn't consider your feelings, but I am so incredibly proud of you for talking about it with me," he says before placing a small peck on your nose, and it makes you smile.

"See? There's that beautiful smile of yours again," he says, and you lean in for a kiss, feeling happy that you can always talk to him about any- and everything, no matter what.

"Shall we take a bath together before sleep? Our Munchkins are still fast asleep, so I doubt they'll wake up when we take a bath together," you ask him, and Tony agrees.

"I'll get it ready, okay? I'll get you once it's ready," Tony says, and you let him go so he can prepare the bath with your favorite scented bath oil and a few candles you always have in the bathroom for a romantic atmosphere.

"It's ready, Sunshine," he says, and you get up after Tony extends his hand and leads you into the bathroom. He steps into the tub and guides you in, and the two of you sink in the warm water, letting it envelop you entirely.

You place your place between Tony's legs and his arms wrapped around your waist, your head against his shoulder, and a small smile etched onto your face.

"Thank you for everything you do for me, Tony. And for the kids, as well, they are the luckiest Munchkins on this earth to have you as their dad," you say, and Tony's cheeks turn red at the praise and a shy smile forms on his face.

"Well, I couldn't do it without you, Sunshine. You're my rock, my love, my everything. And I honestly can't wait to marry you one day. Nothing on this earth would make me happier than to be your husband one day," Tony says, though he would return on that promise in many years.

The day he takes back his words is when he holds his first grandchild in his arms, and he couldn't be more proud of the family the two of you have built together over the years.

[im-jesus]

hot cocoa recipe pipebomb being placed in ur mailbox set for detonation NOW!!!

💥💥💥

ingredients

cocoa powder,

oat milk (smoothjhh, also I’m lactose intolerant so it’s more convenient for me personally),

SOMETHING MINT!! LIKE ANDYS MINTS OR CANDY CANES OR OLIVE GARDEN CHOCOLATES IR JUST SOME LITTLE PEPPERMINTS!!! ITLL CHANGE UR LIFE IF YOU LIKE MINT!!!,

marshmallow :3

order:

if you’re using a chocolate mint thingy for the mint item I usually put it in with the milk in the microwave, but whatever u prefer

if not, warm milk on its own, then add cocoa powder, mix like normal, I usually mix any hard mint items such as candy canes around in it to spread f l a v o r but just dropping them in should be fine

marshmwllow:3

extra:

drinking with massive blanket is highly recommended in my personal experience, I first created one of these when I was like 10 and had a huge blanket on me when trying it and never stopped

Like this is brilliant I have one singular question: is it normal, plain cocoa powder or hot cocoa powder, because those are wildly different items and I need to clarify for my own mental health

[jjungkookislife]

Envuélveme

pairing: contigo!hoseok x f. hispanic reader

genre: established relationship, Christmas au, smut [18+]

summary: Hoseok shows you just how talented he is with his hands

wc: 835

warnings: bondage with ribbon, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), mentions of unprotected sex, creampie, spanking

date: January 4, 2024

prompt 23: "I cannot wrap gifts for the life of me."

Frustration fills your body as you pause the video on your phone. You've been battling the Christmas gift on your bed for the last fifteen minutes, growing more and more agitated as your failures pile up and you start giving up.

Hoseok watches from the other end of the bed, one hand under his head and the other on his phone, scrolling through TikToks. He looks gorgeous shirtless with his Christmas pajama pants (little candy canes and snoopy littering the fabric) and his long hair fluffy and a little curly at the ends.

"Need help, mi amor?" he asks gently, setting his phone on the nightstand.

"No," you huff, trying to undo the knot on the ribbon you were holding with disdain. "Yo puedo."

Hoseok nods, watching you try again only to sigh heavily and give up. You push the present to the side, grabbing the red ribbon in your hands and glaring at it.

"Why did I think ribbon tying would be easy? My bows are crooked or they unravel faster than I can blink. I cannot wrap gifts for the life of me. Hoseok!" you whine and he chuckles as he scoots closer to you. He takes the ribbon from your hands.

"Acuestate, por favor," Hoseok instructs, and you lay down as you're told.

Curiously, you look up at him, and he grins. He leans over you, his lips pressing kisses to yours. His hand cups your face, the kiss growing deeper as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips. Moaning softly, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close until he's settled between your thighs. Your nightgown bunches up at your hips and Hoseok grabs your thighs in his hands. He curses when he grabs your panties, tugging them down your legs and your arousal is evident.

Smiling, you meet his gaze, sitting up just enough to remove your nightgown and toss it over the side of the bed. Hoseok sits back on his heels, grabbing the ribbon and cutting it at a length he deems appropriate. He pulls the scissors closer, within reach should he need to cut you loose.

Your heart quickens with excitement, biting back a moan when he asks if you'd like to be tied up.

"Yes, please," you plead and he chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose before he takes your wrists over your head and easily binds them together. He makes sure to tie the ends in a great big bow and you roll your eyes.

"You're just showing off now," you bite and he laughs.

"I've been wrapping gifts for ages, baby. I offered to help," he reminds you and you scoff. He did.

Hoseok smirks as he takes you in. Tied and up and dripping wet for him. He could devour you in one bite. He could wrap the ribbon around your legs and call you his gift.

The possibilities are endless.

Hoseok kisses your lips, his hands roaming your body slowly, kissing his way down to your neck, between your breasts until he's between your thighs.

"Fuck," you curse when his tongue meets your wet folds, body trembling as he dives in again. You want to card your fingers through his hair, fuck his face and make him groan your name, but your wrists are over your head, bound and useless.

Hoseok's dark gaze meets yours, licking his lips before he sucks on your clit. He swirls his tongue, his fingers pushing into you, and you arch off the bed. Hoseok thinks you look beautiful, so pretty all tied for him, at his mercy. He wants to grant you every pleasure.

Your body heats, hips wiggling and thighs quivering as he holds one and places it over his shoulder. Hoseok curls his fingers, adding a third as you moan his name.

You're so close already, Hoseok knows all the right places to touch, and you wish you could grip the sheets or his hair. You want Hoseok desperately, want him to fill you full of his cock and stuff you full of cum. Want him to tie your hands behind your back, using them as leverage as he fucks into you deeply, smacking your ass and fucking you full.

"Hoseok, please," your voice is airy, moans spilling freely as he sucks your clit and you cry out for him one more time before falling apart.

Hoseok chuckles as he rises, licking his lips. "Good?"

"So good," you answer breathlessly.

Hoseok grips the scissors, cutting the ribbon loose and releasing your wrists. He brings them to his lips, kissing each indention delicately and rubbing your skin softly. He'll make sure to rub some lotion on your wrists in a bit, but first, he holds you in his arms, kissing your shoulder as he rests his forehead on your back.

"You did so well, my love," he whispers.

You smile, melting into him as he kisses his way up your neck, turning your head to kiss your lips.

"Te amo."

original

[chaotic-iguana]

bruh.

what. what the fuck.

writing started off as an exploration; a hobby that i was just trying out. something new, to pass the time. but i feel like it has now evolved into an extension of my art. over time, my stories starting having more and more elements of the poetry-inspired commentary i like to have in the forefront of my paintings, or very simply the imagery i used to include in my poems themselves.

but that isn’t even the best part.

i’ve been writing for around a month, and i absolutely adore literally every single mutual i have on here. @breakfastatjoels, @mandoisapunk, @josephquinnswhore, @bastardmandennis, @nostalxgic, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @theywhowriteandknowthings @millerscoffee

you’re all such inspirations im so glad to know u all thank u all for existing i gen would not have kept writing/still be on this site without yall and i promise im wrapping up i just think its a little fucked that im…gaining traction? how? and the crazy thing?? that list of ppl tagged up there are like just the ones i could remember off the top of my head!! there’s so many more! @imherefordeanandbones, was my first follower and the first on my taglist, and one of the first people to make me think my writing was actually not that bad for a beginner!!

anyways while i literally question everything and melt in gratitude, i hope you all have great days. thank you very much. let’s hope we see many more!!

enough sappy shit.

as a celebration, im gonna write fics, blurbs or hcs (saw/nsfw) based on the following prompts:

this is from @havenoffandoms 800 follower celebration! just send me your character pairing and prompt. list below the cut

“I’m in love with you. Please, don’t leave me.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“It’s really not that complicated.”

“You’re in love with them, aren’t you?”

“We could get arrested for this.”

“I thought you were dead.” 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Love is overrated.”

“If you think I’m going to talk to you while you’re dressed like that, you’re wrong!”

“Do you ever actually use your cellphone?”

“You don’t need to protect me.”

“You fainted… right into my waiting arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“You have to make a choice.”

“You have to remember.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“You know, it’s okay to cry.”

“You lied to me!”

“You make me feel like I’m not good enough.”

“You need to wake up cause I can’t do this without you.”

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“The only thing hotter than seeing your orgasm is seeing your smile.”

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that? Your body is for my eyes only.”

“From the minute I met them, there was no choice. They’re smart. They’re strong. They resent their parents enough to go for a person like me. Also they’re crazy hot.”

“What do you mean, I’m not scary? I literally nearly scared the life out of a man?” “You literally scared a little saliva and a little urine out of him.”

“When someone your age dies, you instinctively want to hear it was of something that could never happen to you. Well, it’s the same with divorce.”

“I get to stay home and plan the death of Dora the Explorer. Fill her backpack with bricks and throw her into the Candy Cane River.”

“You don’t ‘take a run’ at a person. You woo them. You make them feel special.” “Hey honey, look at this. It’s a picture of my butt.”

“I don’t like you.” “I’ll get over it.”

“You’re one of the most beautiful person I know, and you don’t even know it.” “No, I know it.”

“Why do you always have to throw wet blankets on my dreams?” “I do not.” “Yes you do. And you know what I end up with? Wet dreams.”

“So you’re gonna throw me under the bus?” “Oh, I’m gonna throw you so hard I might even win a stuffed animal.”

“Who wouldn’t be angry if you ate all the cereal and faked your death for three years?”

“Quick, catch the cat it stole my coin pouch!”

“I feel like I was just hit by a car… wait, I did? And it was YOUR car?”

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in a dungeon with you of all people.”

“So why do I have to punch that guy?”

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five goats.”

“I hope you know that my name is actually _____”

“Please stop petting the prisoners.”

“Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle.”

“So what if I broke my arm, I’m still doing it.”

“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2am?”

“I’m like 75% sure this won’t explode in our faces.”

“You know how my people are, we would destroy ourselves just for spite.”

“Wait, is that what you were trying to do? I’m sorry, I would’ve taken you much more seriously if I knew.”

“Let’s not blow the extortion charge out of proportion. My boss was just a sore loser.”

“Of all things, you would have thought that the rain was innocuous enough. Turns out, nothing is innocuous in this Gods forsaken place!”

“It’s illegal to make unauthorized species. But it’s also illegal to kill endangered species. Thankfully, I only did one of each.”

“The secret ingredient isn’t human flesh, that’s all I can say.”

“Where’s the king?” “He’s being chased by a wyvern. It’s an old tradition, you see.”

“If I serenade for you, will you strip for me?”

“This is new.”

“Make me.”

“Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

“If you steal the blankets, I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Try it.”

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“I heard you talking in your sleep.”

“The thought of losing you scares me.”

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

thank you. love you all.

[holy-puckslibrary]

← previous month’s round-up

here's a list of everything i published in the month of DECEMBER

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗ 

━ see the special events below!

━ none this month! 

━ FICMAS (tumblr)

˗ˏˋ THE MRS. CLAUSE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — NATE MACKINNON x claus!reader premise — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very pressing hidden clause in the job contract…  cw — me getting way too into the lore of the council of legendary figures, reader is blinded by stress and nate is in lurrrvvv, and some mild angst wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ HOLIDATE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader premise — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays. cw — alcohol mention, jack being moody while luke and quinn are menaces, and reader and jack are idiots (in love, affectionate) wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ CANDY CANE GRAM ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — teacher!JEFF SKINNER x teacher!reader premise — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off? cw — me using jeff as an outlet for the degree in education i don’t use bc i would like to be financially stable, jeff and reader being sneaky sneaky, kiddos trying to play cupid, and my history major jumping out! wc — 2.4k

˗ˏˋ THE NANNY ON THE SHELF ˎˊ˗ ➤ series masterlist   pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x reader premise — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are… questionable. cw — pre-relationship/pre-therapy erik being a dick and josie being sassy (if you can’t handle the heat, get outta the kitchen — looking @ you ej…) wc — 1.1k

˗ˏˋ TRADITION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing — dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader premise — it may not be the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition. cw — unspecified age gap (everyone's legal, dw), smokin' grass (oiud, a joint, mary jane, whichever term you want to use), 18+ content — innocence/corruption kink, adult language/dirty talk, sexual activity under the influence between two consenting adults, fingering (r), oral (r), slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v + creampie (a very merry chrysler to you) wc — 4.4k

find more more holiday content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

your fellow readers (and my lovely patrons) gifted you some spine-chilling spice this holiday season! be sure to thank them for their generosity when you get a chance <33

˗ˏˋ FARMER’S DAUGHTER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x farmer’s daughter!reader premise — she’ll always remember the time she let her daddy's foreman soil her in the middle of his pasture… cw — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism, implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth wc — 3.5k

˗ˏˋ BONER-KILLER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — camp counselor!JACK HUGHES x camp counselor!reader premise — no machetes, no hockey masks… at least, that’s what he promised. cw — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending… (kevin heimbach hive rise!) wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ NEW PERSPECTIVE ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — (soft)dark!stalker!QUINN HUGHES x grey!reader premise — in his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted… cw — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here! wc — 4k

˗ˏˋ LIVE DEMONSTRATION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — camboy!MITCH MARNER x camgirl!reader (+ some special guests) premise — their first performance with a live studio audience! cw — cameos…bc cameo lol, public sex (a literal audience), unprotected boinking + creampie, some reach-around finger-bang action, unprotected coitus + cum play bc mitchy is nasty, praise kink influencer!mitch — "content, baby, content!" (name that vlogger lol), brief past phone sex (kinda? idk you'll see), discussion of sex work and the selling of items wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ A PEARL ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — captain!ERIK KARLSSON x reader premise — its the rum talking… or is it? cw — stranger sex and CMNF, 18th century purity culture and oral (f receiving)  wc — 600 (preview of my POTC au)

find more spooky content ˗ˏˋ HERE  ˎˊ˗

━ WHAT I POSTED ON PATREON 

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — firefighter!QUINN HUGHES x reader premise — over a decade ago, jack hughes broke her little sister’s heart. out of loyalty, she hasn’t spoken to his elder brother, quinn hughes, since. the holiday season is brimming with miracles; will a mended bridge make the list this year? cw — angst with a fluffy ending, quinn and the reader being overprotective idiots, named sister!oc (for the reader), kinda non-linear timeline, and less dialogue from me than usual wc — 2.7k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — baker!NICO HISCHIER x wedding planner!reader premise — nico, the owner of the most sought-after bakery in town, has always had a crush on the reader, an equally popular wedding planner in the area. never more than acquaintances, they still bonded over a shared love of sweetening memories for their special clients. without words, he can tell something is different this time – something is wrong. something happened last christmas; can nico save her from tears this year? cw — angst, mention of infidelity (not on or by nico), a failed engagement and some scrooge-esque pessimism, and some tooth-rotting, cliché fluff! wc — 1.6k

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — MICHAEL BERZATTO (fx’s the bear) x reader premise — he should be at the celebrating, but he isn’t. he was, but not anymore. not after she called. instead, he’s playing… knight in shining sleigh for his kid brother’s childhood playmate. there’s only one way for this night to end… and it won’t land either of them on the nice list this year… cw — unreliable narrator + self-deprecation, age gap, non-canon timeline for the bear (because i don't want to do math lol), mention of reader x ritchie and implied past carmie x reader, alcohol, a lot of degradation, thigh riding / dry humping, orgasm denial, spit play, unhealthy people in an unhealthy non-relationship relationship, a pinch of misogyny, slight impact play, and slight inappropriate use of a santa costume… wc — 2.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ˎˊ˗ (social media au) pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader; jack hughes x olivia rodrigo (iykyk); COLE CAUFIELD x reader premise — inspired by the song of the same name off of sab’s fruitcake ep cw — mention of cheating, me villianizing jack a wee bit, well-deserved cole love, and me having too much fun with famous!reader

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x nanny!reader ➤ series masterlist  premise — (set before the main story) every member of the johnson household loves christmas. all but the patriarch, whose heart seems to be two sizes too small. there is one person, however, who might put things right… cw — too much time in grinch!erik’s head, erik being a douche canoe for no reason and mopey because he’s emotionally constipated, alarming lack of josie and reese, and mel stirring the pot wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ (𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN (tg: maverick) x bradshaw!reader premise — a christmas miracle is orchestrated by the one person she least expects. cw — a cheesy nickname, mention of candy, an only child writing sibling banter, me not being over goose’s death (that i’ve only seen once because i physically can't experience that again), a smidge of angst followed by tooth-rotting fluff, a wee bit suggestive at the end, and my inability to keep a story contained to one upload wc — 1.8k

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — professor!SIDNEY CROSBY x TA / grad student!reader premise — red lips, green envy. cw — nameless biotches trying to steal our man!! power imbalance, secret situationship, references to sex but nothing descriptive, and angst angst angst but some fluff for good measure too, some oc deets added to the reader (nothing physical) for story purposes, and insecurity being a bitch but sid is so words of affirmation slay <3 wc — 2.3k new au verse coming soon!

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader premise — during an island getaway, festive fury brings unspoken truths to the surface. cw — white people vacationing in hawai’i, mention of alcohol and liquid courage, reference to (past) underage drinking and (past) sex between consenting minors, mention of elementary age-bully, matty being a jealous, elitist douche via inner monologue and a loser-boy via sudden on-set of foot-in-mouth disease (very dangerous — stay safe out there, y’all!), reference to virginity / a lil slut-shaming, angst with a fluffy, suggestive ending wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — grinch!JAMIE DRYSDALE x martha may!reader premise — jamie hates christmas, but it may just all be a misunderstanding. cw — jamie being a passive aggressive baby because he's emotionally constipated, references to childhood bullying, emotional cheating / physical cheating (not on jamie or the reader, brief and kinda wholesome), jamie smoking a cig bc ~stressed~ (and a lack of healthy coping skills), mention of blood/violence (super brief), and references to an angel tree topper but no religion or religious components wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — single dad!MATT MARTIN x ballerina!reader premise — its the first role many young ballerinas aspire toward, and matt’s daughter is no different. however, matt has different aspirations for this season’s sugar plum fairy… cw — an age gap (unspecified, but mentioned), naughty things in a risky and wholesome location, me caring too much about stage costumes, non-hockey playin’ matt (implied), unprotected p in v coitus, and matt being a dirty simpy dog for his kid’s favorite person wc — 1.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖! ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JOE BURROW x reader premise — an unexpected road trip with his best friend’s little sister becomes a bit more than joe bargained for—in the best way possible. cw — insensitive comment about concussions, awkward!joe 🤍's the reader, + reader has a fear of storms and an overprotective brother wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — JEREMY SWAYMAN x reader premise — his california girl has never seen snow. this isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she's not complaining… cw — this is straight-up p*rn. cum sharing/cum play, unprotected anal sex + ass eating from the back🙊, manhandling (affectionate), bondage via ribbon, spitting <3, minor objectification + minor discussion of injury, hints of overstim, personification of body parts, and dom!sway being a downright filthy menace ass man with a condescending potty mouth (pun not intended, but funny nonetheless) wc — 1.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; background trevor x the boys; slight jamie x mason premise — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving? cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 & 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — movie!MIKE SCHMIDT (fnaf) x reader premise — mike has something very specific on his list this christmas. cw — slight festive roleplay, breeding kink to the max (with the explicit intention of getting her knocked tf up), mike being obsessed with tits (and having a raging lactation kink), nipple play, dry humping & domestic dirty talk, no p in v (happens off-page/screen), mention of a past pregnancy scare, me wanting abby to be happy with every fiber of my being, and potential FNAF spoilers (honestly, not really) wc — 2.5k

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

→ next month’s round-up

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 🥳

I'm not sure if anyone's that vested in my upcoming stuff but I love hearing about what's on tap from you and my writing moots so I'll keep the updates coming 🤸🏽‍♀️

There is a lovely WIP game I responded to a few days ago that you can find here. In case ya missed it and wanna see 15 titles I'm working on.

So far, I know I need to update all my series 🤣 I have not lost any love for Loki, Sam, or Vampire Tyrone. But I must obey the muses and the squirrel brain. They play tug of war with me and ya girl is tiredt 👏🏽 and right now, all it wants is to be wined and dined by Tre from Candy Cane Lane. That is a man 👏🏽👏🏽

Do expect some new blorbos 😻😻 I finished Rap Sh!t thanks to an anon and I NEEEED RJ Cyler in my life. Also the guy who played Lord AK. I loved his vibe and I think we need more Black alternative men to lust over. We have Hobie and we need MOOOREE. Also Kevin Atwater chuz when I tell yall the thirst is real 🥹 and fuck it, we going after the JJK mens as well.

I know I have some requests to get to. Dont hate me yall. Sometimes a story plum dont speak to me as quickly as others. And I been slack a lackin' on Franklin fics. I feel like I abandoned my baby 🥺 I aint mean to. S6 just really pissed me off. Dont make me climb on my soapbox why. We'll be here all night 🤣

I have 2 requests for Incubus Tyrone. Which, WHAT. Yall 🥹🥹 thank you so much for loving that story! I will get to him, I promise. But there's also a mob boss Tyrone on the way 😈😈

If you've read this far, I love you. I love your support. Even if its silent. Even if its spam liking. Even if we've never exhanged words a day in our lives. I love you. And may both sides of your pillow stay cold. May your beverage of choice stay the perfect temperature. May you always find an extra $5 when you need it.

Nerdie, you tagged my usual suspects 🤣 so anyones free to join in.

[moominofthevalley]

Turpentine

While snowed in together, Trystan asks his friends a morbid question.

trystan thorne, emily rose, ruby webster, luke watanabe

teen | wc: 2.1k | cw: spoilers for book two, chapter fifteen, and talks of death

cfwc prompt: stuck in a snowstorm

Glistening fairy lights cornered all four walls of Luke and Ruby’s apartment, the yellow bulbs warming their hearth. Honeysuckle wine and a charcuterie board made by Emily were set on the table, crackers and prosciutto splattered across. The detective giggled, crossing her arms at Trystan’s creation. 

“You are such a showoff.” 

Trystan laughed as he set the main course on the dinner table. Steam slipped out of the honey-glazed duck, leaving their mouths watering. Roasted pears and plump blood sausages sat beside it, the heavenly aroma wafting around the air. 

“You know I live to boast.” 

“I think my dish is way better,” Luke beamed, setting his strawberry spongecake beside the duck. Ruby giggled, laying a batch of cookies on the table.

“It certainly looks amazing,” Ruby said, “I can’t wait to try it, honey.” 

“Ah, yes, but did you spend two days making it?” Trystan teased, pouring himself a glass of wine — a floral zest with a crisp aftertaste. Emily elbowed him, playfully furrowing her brows. 

“Anyways,” Ruby cleared her throat, “I’m so glad we’re finally home.” 

“Agreed,” Luke plopped a grape in his mouth, “I don’t think I can ever handle being in a room with every Thorne again.” 

Emily and Trystan shared an uneasy glance, silently unveiling mutual sorrow. Months have passed since their case in Trystan’s homeland, though the time spent there forever stained them. Emily’s mouth ran dry as Sebastyan and Vasili rushed through her mind. The dagger tight in Vasili’s chest, the petrified eyes of Sebastyan as he died at the hands of another Thorne. Two ghosts clinging on their shoulders. 

“It’s hard to believe our little stint in Drakovia is over,” Emily shook her head, “I wonder what our next big case is gonna be.” 

“No more cheating husband cases for you?” Ruby asked, her brow cocked amusingly. 

“As tempting as that sounds, I might need bigger fish to go after.” Trystan chuckled, splaying his hand on top of Emily’s. 

“Drakovia has spoiled her. Good luck getting her to take the common cases again.” 

“Do you think you’d ever look into…your dad’s murder?” Luke asked, almost nonchalantly. Ruby sent him a warning glance, lightly bumping his feet underneath the table. Trystan’s hands curled into Emily’s, solace in his eyes. 

Emily gulped. Each time she debated looking into Jimmy’s death, there were far too many holes, far too many questions, and not enough evidence. Distant memories of bickering with Uncle Tommy and Trystan struck her, and she cringed at how cruel she became. Desperately hungry to solve the only question she had left. She refused to let her and Trystan turn into a pair of tectonic plates – subtly rubbing against each other, then drifting away forever. To not catch the death of a relationship until it’s already rotting, staining every moment with resentment and twisted words. Even the slightest possibility of another heartbreak sent her spiraling. 

“I’ve…thought about it,” she frowned, “One day, though.” 

“One day.” 

The moment passed, and the Ginovesi crew - bar Mafalda - began their feast. They all vehemently agreed, to Luke’s dismay, that Trystan’s duck was the clear winner. Luke’s shortcake was no match for the savory and crisp flavors of the traditional Drakovian dinner. Though his cake appeared light and fluffy, it was dense and oddly sour. Ruby’s cookies and Emily’s board tied for second place, both sweet and made with love. A blend of cookies framed like snowflakes, snowmen, Snoopy in Santa hats, and candy canes bunched together on a plate. The charcuterie board was a splendid still life, adorning moondrop grapes, saltine crackers, and rosemary sprigs.

“Good God!” Emily groaned, swallowing a slice of Luke’s cake, “What the fuck did you put in this?” 

Luke’s eyes widened, “Do you not like strawberries?” 

“Try it yourself! I don’t even…” Emily spat out the remaining bits, nearly gagging. 

Reluctantly, Luke cut himself a small serving. Trystan and Ruby cackled as his face turned red, begrudgingly swallowing the cake. 

“Jesus!” Luke shivered, “Okay–I think I know what happened.” 

“What did you do?!”

“...I may have used salt instead of sugar.” 

“Oh my God!” Trystan slapped his knee, “You are a horrible baker!” 

“It-it’s not my fault!” Luke said, throwing his hands in the air. Ruby snickered, patting his shoulder. 

“Babe. You literally made the cake.” 

Rounds of laughs echoed through the kitchen; contentment and joy present on the soft New York night. Blissful moments fell around them as snow tumbled like raindrops, piling up minute by minute. 

* * * *

Standing by the window sill, Emily tracked the ebb and flow of snowfall. Faint Christmas tunes slipped through the window crack, presumably from the neighbor. She hummed delightedly, eyes shut. Moonlight burst into the room, dimly lit and warm despite the glowing chill from the glass before her. The swell of nearby saxophones and Earthly beauty brought her to ease. 

“Don’t tell the others, Detective, but your charcuterie board was my favorite,” Trystan grinned, sitting beside her. 

“Oh really?” Emily smirked, “Are you sure you’re not being biased?” 

“Hm,” Trystan gave her a so-so gesture, “Definitely not.” 

Cupping both sides of her face, Trystan’s pupils widened fondly. Emily turned slightly, kissing his palm. 

“Your hands still smell like garlic!” 

Trystan chuckled, sniffing his hand. Sure enough, the pungent odor attacked his nose. He shrugged it off, focused on the gruff detective. 

“I love you, my little moon!” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I don’t know! You’re a bit…glum. And very short.” 

“I am 5’3, you tall shit!” Emily swatted his arm, “I would call you my ‘sun,’ but you’re more like a little dog.” 

“What? How?” 

“You follow me around all day. And listen to my orders – for the most part.” 

“Not to ruin the moment,” Luke announced as he pointed to his phone, “There’s a snow squall warning. It’ll clear up tomorrow morning, but you guys will have to stay the night.” 

“A sleepover!” Ruby squealed, “How fun! I’ll go get blankets so you two can sleep on the couch.” 

She disappeared into the hallway closet, hunting for the thickest blankets and pillows possible. Luke cocked an eyebrow, unamused as Trystan and Emily sat on the couch across from him. 

“So when you said you loved Ruby’s cookies you were lying?” He asked Trystan, crossing his arms in faux-anger. Trystan chuckled, unashamed. 

“I did love Ruby’s cookies – they were phenomenal. Much better than your shortcake anyway,” He teased, “Emily’s just happened to be my favorite.” 

“You two are literal children,” Emily snorted, “I–” 

Darkness surrounded them. The only light left was the waning candlelight on the kitchen table. Gusts of wind flickered from the cracked window, a biting chill creeping up on their skin. Concerned, Ruby poked her head out of the closet. 

“Hot-diggity-daffodil!” Luke slapped his knee, “I guess the power’s out, too.” 

“We can see that, Luke.”  Ruby returned with a bundle of blankets. The crew settled in the living room, the window now shut, bottles of wine and lively candles by the coffee table. An easy silence shrouded the room, with only the croaking rats in the walls and the crackling candles to distract them. They all sipped the remains of the honeysuckle wine, sweetness trickling down their throats like candle wax melting onto the table. 

“I have an idea,” Trystan cleared his throat, “It is a bit morbid, though.” 

“What is it?” Ruby asked, curious. 

“In Drakovia, we go around in circles asking certain…questions. Usually around New Year’s, but we’re in the middle of a snowstorm. It’s not like we have much else to do.”

“What type of questions?” 

Trystan sat still, contemplating. An eerieness in his eyes, a peculiar tenacity about him. He flinched at the briefest second, then shrugged. 

“If you were dying, how would you like to pass away? What would you like to have with you?” 

Silence surrounded them once more, their breaths slightly more tense and strained. Emily sat closer to Trystan instinctively, craning her head against his shoulder. The candles continued to wail, as Ruby cleared her throat with somberness in her eyes. 

“I think…if we ever got one,” She glanced at Luke, “I’d like to have a little cat in my lap. And Luke to hold my hand. And maybe a cup of tea, but only in that calico-print mug you got me for our anniversary.” 

Luke wiped tears from Ruby’s cheek, a rare solemness on his face. He grinned weakly, pressing a kiss on the side of her face. Ruby’s heart swayed in the lull air, her hand tight in his. 

“I need Ruby next to me, laying by me. And I want it all to be quiet,” Luke murmured, “I don’t want to be able to hear anything. But I want there to be a window. So I can look up at the sky. I don’t care if it’s day or night…that’s all I want.”

The candles remained lit, embers mute and growing frail. Warmth bloomed between them, huddling closer together. The moon climbed further into the night sky, its silvery rays illuminating the apartment. Trystan fiddled with his fingers, as Emily rubbed circles around his legs. It was like muscle memory. Rituals and silly minuscule traditions became more familiar to the two of them with each passing month. Chopping garlic cloves, peeling oranges, collecting ugly trinkets. 

“I’d want someone to play old Drakovian music…the songs my father showed me as a kid. And,” Trystan grinned at Emily, a smile so unabashedly bold and bare it nearly brought her to tears, “I want you to kiss my forehead. And rub my feet.” 

Emily pecked the top of his head, eyes burning as Diana’s kind words echoed in her mind. Trystan wiped away her tears, tenderness with every touch. 

She was familiar with death. A one-sided friendship, a shadow lurking behind her with every step she took. It offered no hope and no excuses. The only things bereavement brought were ghostly memories and pearls from the past rolling in her hand, daring to be dropped. Her fingers trembled, her mouth dry as she urged herself to go on. 

“I don’t want it to hurt,” Emily said finally, slightly panting, “Every single one of them died in pain. And alone. Sonja. Bethany. Nadja. Sebastyan. I don’t want it to be like that. I want to be ready. And...have Trystan next to me.”  

They all leaned against each other. The candles shined well into the night. Empty wine bottles scented the room, warm and heady. Emily shut her eyes, picturing herself as a sleeping child being carried to bed after a long drive home. Laughter through the walls, the ticking of a nearby clock, soft jazz slipping through the window, a kiss on her cheek. Perhaps it’d be good to her. Just a brief second and all that’d remain was a tombstone with her name. 

Emily unveiled her vision, the rest of her friends in tears. Trystan stroked her hair gently, still smiling. It was simple. It was clear. 

“All we want is everything we have,” He said, their faces inches apart, “And I’m the richest man in the world.” 

* * * * 

Ruby and Luke shut their bedroom door, Emily and Trystan now alone on the couch. With her legs in his lap, he rested a hand on her thigh, tracing lazy circles. The candles had long died out, leaving only moonbeams and constellations to light up the room. 

“Em?” Trystan whispered as Emily moved over to lie on his chest. She gazed into his argent eyes, exasperation clear on his face. 

“Mhm?” 

“Do you remember when I refused to go on that plane? All those months ago.” Emily snorted quietly, Trystan gliding his hands along her back. 

“Of course I do. I knew you weren’t going to.” 

“Do you remember what you said to me after that?” 

“Mhm. I told you there’s a reason partners and romance don’t mix well. That it’s trouble waiting to happen.” 

“And then I told you that I just so happen to like trouble.” 

They smirked, noses crinkled and eyes bagged. Trystan cupped Emily’s chin, palms still smeared with the scent of garlic. 

“I’m glad we’re partners.” 

“I am too.” 

* * * * A/N: Happy holidays, everyone! Thank you for reading this – I came up with this idea FOREVER AGO but was never able to execute it until now. I’ve always loved the idea of thinking of death, not as something to fear (though I still struggle with that), but rather as something that is just a little moment. That’s painful, and maybe not necessarily beautiful, but something that just happens organically. Like that one poem that’s like “I hope death is like being carried to your bedroom as a child.” I actually wrote a poem about that, if anyone would be interested in me posting it. Anyway – thank you again for reading!

Click here for a list of all my works so far!

Tags: @choicesholidays @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @mooserii @stars-are-within-me @shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @calisomnia @kyra75 @icarusfallsforever @inlocusmads (let me know if anyone else would like to be added to my crimes tag!)

[alegendoftomorrow]

Ice Skating

Summary: A fun outing after Christmas turns into a tease fest when one of the Dagger Squad may not be as good at everything as they pretend to be.

OC: Olivia Carter (Liv, Livy, Olive,). Photo Journalist assigned to the Dagger squad to do a piece on Naval Aviators in the modern world. Official character sheet coming soon!

Word Count:1,971

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first entry into @sailor-aviator ‘s winter challenge. My prompt was ice skating, though I did also use this as a springboard for a possible series that I hope to start soon. Now, is this late... so very much so. Did life decide to send me into the new year with one finale kick…. Also yes. Is this also the first personal thing I’ve written for myself in a long time…also yes. But I had so much fun doing it and it feels good to get back to writing again. I hope you all have a phenomenal New Year and you find all the things you were looking for…. Enjoy some Christmas in February

“This was a terrible idea,” Jake’s voice calls from somewhere behind Liv. His tone lacking its usual confident swagger as she turns towards it to find him clutching the edge of the ice like it’s his lifeline. His feet slipping and wobbling as he attempts to walk rather than skate.

“I thought you said you had been skating before?” Liv called as she glided closer to him. Stopping sharply in front of him and meeting his pouting glare with an innocent smile.

“Yeah, when I was ten,” he said sharply. Ducking his head in something that resembled sheepishness. “I thought it was like riding a bike.”

Liv shouldn’t laugh. She really shouldn’t. Yet she can’t help the barely contained giggle that bursts past her lips that she tries to disguise as a cough. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not funny. Just try to—”

“What’s not funny?” Bradley’s voice cuts through her words and the Christmas music still playing on the loud speakers around them. “Seriously Hangman, you’re still attached to the wall? You know there are five-year-old’s doing laps around you right?”

Jake rolls his eyes and mumbles something unintelligible, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose while Bradley leans down and kisses Liv’s cheek. His mustache scratching her warm skin in a way that still sets her heart racing like it did the very first time he kissed her there. His arm wrapping around her waist and tugging her closer to his side. Effortlessly using his strength to keep them both balanced and upright.

“Come on my love leave the poor man alone. Can’t you see he’s struggling enough?” Liv playfully smacks Bradley’s shoulder as he throws his head back and laughs. The California sun catching his blonde-brown curls and throwing that warm light back down onto Liv. Momentarily making her forget there are other people around her until Jake very loudly clears his throat.

“If you two are about to start making heart eyes at each other again I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, whose making heart eyes?” A voice calls out. All three sets of eyes turn to find Mickey and Reuban skating towards them. Bundled up like everyone else around them against the “cold”. Matching knitted candy cane stripped scarves around their necks that were a gift from Reuban’s wife. They’d opened them yesterday when they’d gotten back and had yet to take them off. Somehow Mickey seemed more excited them Reuban had been. Proudly declaring “his shared wife” had made it for him. Reuban had found this far less amusing then the rest of the squad.

“No one is,” Bradley said quickly. Squeezing Liv closer he nodded towards Jake who was doing hi sbets to look like he didn’t need the wall to stay balanced. “We were just making fun of Jake here and his inability to skate.”

“You can’t skate?!” Mickey’s voice added to the shock in his wide eyes and dumbfounded expression.

“I can—”

“No way!” Reuban continued. “You mean there is something even the great Hangman himself can’t do.”

Jake sighed deeply and hung his head into his hand, groaning as the teasing continued. Liv wanted to feel bad but considering Jake was often the first to jump on someone else’s weakness she really didn’t feel too bad about it.

“Yeah, well not all of us grew up in the ice and snow,” he weakly shot back. Another round of laughter as Bradley argued that he too had grown up in California for some time, and Mickey put in that he’d grew up without snow too.

Liv just leaned into Bradley’s chest and looked at the group with an amused smile. The California heat was new to her. As was a Christmas and New Year without snow. Her parent’s farmhouse was likely half buried in snow and the pond she’d learned to skate on would have been frozen for months.

“Yeah, and didn’t Javy grow up in New Orleans?” Bradley added with a pretend thoughtful expression. “Yet I know that man can skate nearly as good as Livy here.” He jostled Liv out of her thoughts for a moment.

“Speaking if Javy, where is your wingman, Jake?” She asked.

“Oh, he hasn’t made it to the ice yet,” Mickey said. Pointing across the rink to the outdoor rental building where Javy was leaning against the counter with a wide grin as his hands animated the story, he was telling to the beautiful woman working the counter. “Yeah, he’s too busy flirting to come and save you.”

The woman laughed at something Javy said and Jake gave a long-suffering sigh, a look of betrayal crossing his face.

“Don’t make that face.” Liv smirked. “Like you haven’t done the same thing to him a thousand time.” She raised her eyebrow in an almost dare to have him disagree with her. He did not.

“Yeah, well how come Bob gets to sit this activity out?” He shot back instead.

They all looked over to the row of bleachers sparsely filed with mothers helping their kids tie up their skates, friends huddled around hot chocolate mugs laughing with whipped cream on their faces, and a few older people with cameras waving to their families on the ice. Right in the middle was Bob. His cheeks covered in a pink blush as he stuttered his way through an explanation of his booted ankle while he helped a woman’s young daughter stand up in her skates. The woman’s son was sitting on Bob’s other side continually shaking his head when his mom tried to offer him a pair of skates. Bob must have said he would watch him because the woman smiled and took Bob’s hand, nodding her thanks which made the blush on Bob’s cheeks worse. He nervously adjusted his glasses and pointed to the ice, saying something that made the little girl laugh.

Good for him, Liv thought as she turned her gaze back to Jake who was growing increasingly annoyed.

“Because he twisted his ankle playing volleyball with us all yesterday,” Nat said. Her sudden appearance causing them all to jump and Jake to scramble back into the wall.

“A little warning next time Tasha!”

“Sorry,” she said in a way that made it clear she wasn’t sorry at all. “What are we all doing hovering awkwardly over here?”

“Jake can’t skate,” Mickey supplied.

“We’re making fun of him,” Reuban added.

“I hate all of you,” Jake shot back.

“Even me?” Liv asked. Turning out of Bradley’s grip to face Jake fully with her best puppy dog eyes.

“Especially you Olive. This was your idea.” Jake pointed a finger at her and yet there was no venom in his words.

Liv gasped and gripped at her heart. Mock hurt flashing across her face as she fell backwards and suppressed a laugh when Bradley’s strong hands caught her. “I’m hurt Jake. You have wounded me and I don’t think I can recover from this.”

She peeked an eye open just in time to watch Jake roll his eyes and the other laugh.

“You’ll get over it,” he promised.

Before Liv could say anything back, a very breathless and unsteady Javy called out for them as he skated quickly towards them before nearly crashing into Mickey and Reuban. Both men exclaiming as they caught him and scrambled to catch their balance. Bradley pushing Liv back to standing and Nat skating a step forward with her hands out to help if needed.

“And where have you been?” Jake asked accusingly when Javy had been rightened back onto his own feet. Though Mickey and Reuban kept their hands floating beside him just in case.

“Whoa, whoa why the aggression?” Javy asked with only mild confusion. Liv recognized that mischievous glint in his eyes as meaning he was only half listening to whatever any of them said. He had come here with a plan. “I was only gone a few minutes.”

“It’s been half an hour and I could have used some backup,” Jake said.

Javy tilted his head and scanned his eyes over all their faces for a moment before just shrugging and plowing on to what he’d come here to say. “Okay so I was talking to Claire and—”

“Who’s Claire?” Natasha asked.

“Unimportant,” Javy continued. “Anyways—”

“She’s the woman renting out skates,” Liv whispered to Natasha who leaned over so she could see the woman in question and then nodded.

“She’s cute.”

“I know.”

“—So, she says her friend Amelia is the best there is,” Javy finished with a flourish.

“Wait. Who’s Amelia?” Liv asked. Clearly having missed something while talking to Natasha.

Javy fixed both of them with an exasperated look. “Do either of you ever pay attention when I talk?”

“As a general rule of thumb, no,” Natasha teased.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t listen to any of you,” Liv added.

“Hey!” Bradley turned to face her with a pout. His honey brown eyes locking onto hers as he stuck his bottom lip out.

“That doesn’t include you, my love. I always listen to you,” Liv added quickly. Cupping his cheek and patting it softly with her fingers.

A chorus of groans and gagging noises followed the action.

“Alright back on topic. Amelia is the red head over there that’s offering lessons. She’s also single,” Javy added with a smirk.

More groans and eye rolls followed as they all watched Jake’s interest immediately shift to the woman a few feet away from them. She was tall and had a white hat pulled down over her ears, her long red hair only barley contained in a thick braid down her back. Smaller red curls poked out around her face and her ice blue eyes were filled with light as she clapped for a pair of siblings who had just finished skating the length of the rink without falling.

“Don’t worry I already talked her up for you.” Javy nudged Jake in the ribs and the other man’s confident smile once again wavered. His eyes snapping to Javy.

“What did you tell her?”

“Only the good things don’t worry. Come on, consider it my very late Christmas present to you.” Javy didn’t give Jake a chance to protest as he wrapped his arm around his and dragged him over towards the woman. Jake attempting to still look as tall and in control of the situation as he still white-knuckle gripped the wall.

“Oh, this I have to see,” Natasha said as she too moved to follow after them.

“I’ll race you there,” Mickey dared. Tucking the edges of his scarf back into his jacket so he was ready.

“Twenty bucks says I beat all of you,” Reuban chimed in. Living up to his callsign as Bradley and Liv shared a look before declaring their intention to race too.

“Let’s maybe not race towards the group of beginners though,” Liv said. Pointing instead to the bleachers on the other side of the rink where Bob was still conversing with the young boy beside him.

The pilots and Liv all lined up against the wall and waited for an opening while Natasha cupped her hands to her mouth and called out.

“Bob! Call it when we get there.”

Bob looked up and squinted at them before shaking his head with a sigh and flashing a thumbs up. Liv was pretty sure he mumbled something about pilots and there need for speed but her lip-reading skills weren’t the best.

“Go!” She called.

More laughter mixed with the sound of skates cutting into ice as the last bars of Jingle Bells played on the loud speakers. Just for this moment at least, they were safe and happy, and really that was all any of them had wanted for Christmas anyway.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Stone Cold

[ID: The title of the story, Sweet Little Lies, written in a pink to yellow gradient over a picture of various glass jars filled with assorted, colorful candies. All other images in this post are decorative dividers. End ID]

This one is a little glimpse into what Cedric thinks about having a person bleeding all over his sofa, again. It's a direct continuation of a chapter quite in the middle of this novella, you should definitely check it out to see how we got here *puppy eyes*

To the one person who clicked omg yes, spoilerz: look away.

Warnings: Some wound care, but the pov char isn't looking 😆

“Then give her a chance to say it to your face.”

Laurent’s hard swallow at these words made Cedric pause. Damn. His friend truly was head over heels in love with that woman. That definitely complicated things.

Tania cleared her throat. “I need some—”

“Warm water, yeah.” Cedric started to walk into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane. This was by far not the first time a healer was patching someone up in his living room, and it wouldn’t be the last. “If you need some fresh linen, you know where the bathroom is.”

“Sure do,” Tania said. “Oh, and put another kettle on the stove afterwards. I will need more than one.”

While he waited for the water to warm, Cedric stared at the kettle as if it was to blame for everything that had gone wrong. His friends kept getting hurt—or worse—and it was his fault. He had sent Laurent to test how much this contact knew about him, but also because his ankle hadn’t taken kindly to crawling through the sewers while breaking into the jeweler. And if he didn’t feel guilty enough already for almost getting Laurent killed, now he could feel guilty for messing with his love life as well; a love life that had been pretty much nonexistent in the last decade or so.

It remained to be seen whether that woman was bothered by her suitor bleeding all over her place and dragging the guards into her home in the middle of the night. If he was honest, he wasn’t particularly optimistic, but he would not voice his doubts in front of Laurent. 

A bowl of warm water in hand, Cedric returned to the living room. Tania had unwrapped the bandages from Laurent’s arm and thrown them on the floor in a bloody pile. The swollen, discolored mess that was Laurent’s hand kept Cedric from lingering on the question whether the blood would stain his carpet.

“What did you do?” Tania asked as she turned Laurent’s hand this way and that.

“Tried to grab a knife at the wrong end,” he said.

“Now why would you do such a thing?”

“Better my hand than my— ah.” Laurent squirmed under her touch, the fingers of his free hand digging into the cushions. “Careful, please.”

“Yeah, well, how about you stop—”

“Can you fix it?” Cedric interrupted her. 

Laurent might be reckless from time to time, but this was not his fault, and the last thing he needed was to be scolded for it. Tania whipped her head around, but her fiery stare didn’t last long. It was Cedric who looked away first, finding the softness of her gaze more threatening than her anger had been.

“Probably. Please bring me a cup of water.” Without waiting for Cedric to acknowledge her words, she turned to face Laurent, raising a small glass vial. “It’ll help a bit, but it will still hurt a lot. Can’t knock you out, because we need to make sure your fingers still work.”

“Just my luck,” Laurent muttered. 

Cedric brought the cup of water and handed it to Tania, feeling quite useless standing around next to her. He wished Yvan were here. His husband was much better at comforting people—and at making himself useful. 

When Tania offered the prepared mixture to Laurent, his hand shook too much for him to take it, so she put the cup to his lips instead. Laurent drank slowly, grasping at the sofa once more, his eyes half closed, and trembling all over. If he had turned that guy into charcoal, he might have exhausted his magic. Another thing to feel guilty for. Cedric threw a few more logs into the fire before returning to the sofa with a spare blanket.

“How are you holding up?”

“Splendid.” Laurent didn’t open his eyes, at least not until Cedric dropped the blanket on his friend’s chest. Then Laurent looked up. “What…”

“I’m gonna freeze from just watching you,” Cedric grumbled as he sat next to Laurent, pointedly ignoring Tania’s way-too-knowing gaze. There couldn’t be much of his stone-cold reputation left with her, but for now, he clung to the pitiful remains.

“No one’s forcing you to,” Laurent said, but he did pull the blanket over his bare torso.

Both of them knew Cedric wouldn’t leave, and both of them would rather bite their tongue off than put it into words. 

“I’ll start now,” Tania said. “You shouldn’t look.”

Laurent grunted and leaned his head back, his gaze directed at the ceiling. While she probably hadn’t meant him, Cedric decided on a similar course of action. When he leaned back, his cane that had been propped against the sofa clattered to the floor. His annoyance about the inconvenience was short-lived when Laurent cried out.

“Ah.”

Laurent flinched, then forced himself to relax with a strained exhale. Under the folds of the blanket, his unharmed hand found Cedric’s. As Tania continued cleaning his wounds, Cedric could feel him tremble, could feel him squeeze his hand, even when he managed to remain quiet.

“Can you move this finger?” she asked after a while. 

“Mh.”

“Good.” A pause. “A bit more.”

“Ow ow ow ow.”

Tania tutted, and Laurent barely suppressed a pained whimper, and Cedric wished he were anywhere else but here. While she continued healing, he thought of rocks, and paperwork, and anything else that wasn’t the fact that this was, in the end, his fault.

“Okay. That’s the critical part done. Don’t move your hand yet, it’s not fully healed. The cut on your arm won’t need much magic, but I want to look at the other wound first.” Tania stood up and faced Cedric. “I’m gonna get new water, then I’ll need to be on that side.”

While she went to the kitchen, Cedric used his magic to lift his cane and moved to Laurent’s other side. On a blood-splattered cloth between them rested Laurent’s hand. Several long cuts along palm and fingers looked like they had been healing for a week or two; mostly closed, but the flesh was still raw. Cedric didn’t want to think about how they had looked before.

Tania returned, placing the bowl and a fresh stack of linens on the coffee table.

“Okay. Let’s get this off.” 

She pulled the blanket away and cut the bandages apart, dropping them onto the floor next to the other pile. With a wet rag, she cleaned off the dried blood before she grabbed a small pair of scissors and cut away at the stitches, using a similarly small pair of pincers to pull the threads out one by one. If Laurent’s expression was anything to go by, it was an unpleasant sensation, to say the least.

“Who in Thryvis’ name did this?” She pulled another one out. “Those are the worst stitches I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t be rude,” Laurent mumbled. “She’s a candy maker, not a healer.”

“What?”

Laurent opened his eyes. “Aurelia. My… A… She saved me.” He swallowed. “I don’t think I would have made it here without her help.” 

When Tania’s questioning gaze met his, Cedric only shrugged. “Not one of us.”

Tania’s eyes darkened. “Laurent Elias Beaufort,” she said in a tone so stern it made even Cedric wince, “are you saying you had some poor girl, who is not involved in whatever the two of you are involved in this time, stitch you up?” When Laurent didn’t reply, she pulled on the last thread with a bit too much vigor, making him flinch with a hiss. “You what—just walked up to her house and bled all over her floor?”

“Actually.” Laurent’s attempted grin turned into a pained grimace. “It was her bed.”

Tania huffed. “And that’s the only way you’ll ever end up there.”

She put her hand on his side, inspecting his wound with her sight and her magic. “You owe her. And you were damn lucky. A bit deeper, and you would have spilled your guts on her bed instead.” She took a clean cloth, dipped it into the bowl and wrung it out, muttering, “Talk about a mood killer.”

“Would have. Saved me. From. You—Ah.” He squirmed under her touch. When he dug the fingers of his injured hand into the sofa, he screamed, bending over. “Fuck. Ow.”

“Hold still. I need to clean this. You don’t want to know what happens if I close the wound around any debris still stuck inside.”

“I’ll win a—Ah. Ow!”

“Can you hold him down?” Tania asked.

“Me?”

She glared at Cedric. “Do you see anyone else here?”

He sure wished he did. After carefully lifting Laurent’s injured hand onto his lap, Cedric put his arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling him against his chest. The fact that Laurent didn’t take the opportunity to make a witty comment was more concerning than anything. Instead, he clung to Cedric’s arm with his uninjured hand and closed his eyes.

Tania tsked. “Did you make it that hard for her, too? No wonder the stitches looked like shit. I’m surprised she dealt with that instead of handing you over to the guards.”

Cedric’s murderous glare got lost in the back of Tania’s head. When she continued, Laurent tried to squirm out from under her touch, but there was nowhere for him to go. His fingers dug into Cedric’s arm, through the fabric of a shirt that had cost a small fortune and was not made for this kind of treatment. In other circumstances, Cedric might have joked about it, but every thought of commenting on it left him when he saw the shimmer in the corner of Laurent’s eye.

Fuck.

Cedric tucked the blanket around Laurent’s shoulder in an attempt to cover at least the part of his torso Tania wasn’t working on, but he feared Laurent wasn’t trembling from cold alone, just like he feared he wasn’t crying from the pain alone. Not knowing where else to put it, he wrapped his other arm around Laurent as well, holding his friend a bit tighter than would have been strictly necessary. 

Tania didn’t acknowledge the tears, but she did stop with the snarky comments, keeping her communication to short and not unfriendly instructions when she needed Laurent to move.

“That’s the worst of it done,” she eventually said softly. “I’ll start healing now.”

The frown on her face as she closed her eyes and focused on her magic wasn’t exactly reassuring. Cedric could feel Laurent relax, but he still held on, just in case. While not quite as painful, he knew from experience that healing magic was far from pleasant.

Laurent flinched from time to time, but he didn’t struggle against Cedric’s grip anymore. With his head rolled back against the sofa, he stared at nothing in particular. 

“I trusted her,” he suddenly said.

“What?”

“She told me to hide. And I. I did.” Laurent’s voice was husky. “Then I heard their voices. I thought they’d find me. I was afraid she would betray me to save herself, and then I thought. I thought she should save herself.”

In hindsight, it was a funny story, but knowing his friend, Laurent had been just as terrified of her coming to harm as he had been of being discovered himself; perhaps even more so.

“But she didn’t,” Cedric said.

“No.” So much pain behind a single word. “No.”

Laurent closed his eyes, showing no reaction as Tania finished up healing the wound at his side and merely following her order when she asked to see his hand again. From time to time, new tears found their way down his cheeks, and when he opened his eyes, his gaze was far away. In front of Tania was no place to talk about it, though, so Cedric kept pretending not to notice it and kept quiet.

“Okay. We’re done.” Tania put Laurent’s hand down. “And by the looks of it, not a moment too soon. You’re already half asleep.”

“Sorry,” Laurent mumbled, blinking red-rimmed eyes open.

“Shh. You need to rest.”

When Tania shot Cedric a questioning glance, he nodded, resigned. The living room was neither the most comfortable nor the most practical spot for Laurent to sleep, but he didn’t look like he had the strength left to sit on his own, let alone walk up the stairs into the bedroom.

“Do you have something made out of silk in all your fancy shit?” she asked. “A sheet or a shawl or something?”

“Fancy shit,” Cedric muttered as he left the room to check. He wasn’t one for wearing silk, but in one of the storage rooms stood a few boxes waiting to be donated. Even though clothes didn’t fit the range of goods his store offered, they were occasionally included when he took his chances and purchased a complete estate.

Thick fur coats and fine leather boots and ruffled blouses. In the third box, he discovered what he had been looking for, feeling a bit petty as he selected the most unfashionable piece he could find. 

When he returned to the living room, Tania had helped Laurent into a shirt; he must have asked her to fetch it from the clothes chest for him, Cedric realized, because she did not look like she was going to let him get up anytime soon.

“Does that work?” he asked, offering her a hideously patterned scarf.

“Wonderful.” 

Tania took it from him and wrapped it around one of the sofa cushions, which she then placed at the end of the sofa. Supporting Laurent so he didn’t have to put too much strain on his no longer bandaged midsection, she helped him lay down and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and over his legs.

His eyes were all but closed, his breathing strained. Despite being dressed and covered, he was still shaking.

“You shouldn’t be alone now, so you stay there.” It wasn’t a suggestion. She stood up. “He needs at least two days of bedrest,” she said directed at Cedric, knowing as well as he did that his friend would have to be practically forced to stay put. “More would be better, but knowing him, two is already stretching it. Try to keep the room warm and dark. Did he drink enough?”

“He had a cup of coffee when he arrived.”

“Coffee!” She made a disgruntled noise and stared Cedric down. “You need to make sure he drinks lots of water. Water or tea. And broth, if you can get Yvan to make some.”

Now that was uncalled for. But not wrong. At least she trusted him to make tea. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. 

“And don’t you ma’am me. Not my fault I’m the only one with a sliver of common sense here.” She snapped her bag closed with a pointed clack. “After all the times I’ve fixed you up, one would think you would remember a thing or two about how to take care of yourselves.”

If he was honest, he knew better, but treating Laurent’s condition with the seriousness it deserved would have made it all too real how close it had been. How close he had come to losing his best friend for over twenty years.

“I’m leaving you those.” Tania pointed at the glass vial left standing on the table next to the now empty cup. “Ten drops, twice a day, absolutely nothing more. Understood?” Only when Cedric nodded did she continue, “If it doesn’t get better, or there’s any sign of infection, let me know immediately. Fever, swelling, any kind of discharge.”

Cedric nodded again.

“Two days. At least,” Tania repeated.

“Tania?”

She whirled around, arms propped against her hips and obviously ready to defend her instructions against any excuse Laurent might be about to voice.

“Thank you.”

Her shoulders sagged. For a moment, she just stood there. Then she sank to one knee next to the sofa and wrapped her arms around him. 

“Please stop trying to get yourself killed.” She pressed a kiss onto Laurent’s forehead. “Selene would be heartbroken.”

Cedric decided to close the curtains, now that Tania didn’t need the light anymore. He walked over to the windows instead of using his magic, running his hand over the embedded pieces of quartz.

“Wouldn’t want to… do that to her.”

Cedric did his best to tune out their voices and give them a moment of privacy, but it wasn’t easy to close the curtains this damn slow. He checked the seams and tugged the fabric this way and that. The thread around one of the crystals was frayed. Running his thumb over the crystal, he smoothed the sharp edge that must be at fault for that. He should call someone to fix it, and perhaps to check all the other curtains as well. 

A half soft, half stern “Get some rest, Laurent” sounded final enough, so he turned around, finding Tania standing ready with her bag in hands.

“I’ll bring you to the door.”

Tania opened her mouth, but perhaps he had a sliver of authority left, because she didn’t attempt to decline his offer. She matched his pace as he led her through the hallway and to the front door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

“Where’s Merridy?” he asked.

“At my place. She seemed rather distraught, so I told her I was in the middle of cooking and asked her to watch over my stove until I returned.”

“Were you in the middle of cooking?”

Tania smiled. “My mom’s special stew. It’s been on the stove since this morning and won’t be done for another few hours.” She reached for the door. “I’ll tell her that everything went well and Laurent will be as good as new in a few days.”

Cedric swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “Will he?” he asked.

“Yes. He lost a lot of blood, he exhausted his magic, and he will gain a few more scars, but he will be fine. Just make sure he actually rests for once.”

“Thank you,” Cedric said, and he meant it. 

She accepted his thanks with a nod and stepped outside. 

When Cedric returned to the living room, Laurent was already fast asleep. Cedric fetched a second blanket, one made from thicker wool, and spread it over Laurent as well. After throwing a few more logs into the fire and leaving a glass of water on the coffee table, he extinguished all but one glowing crystals. The last one he only dimmed, in case Laurent would awake after sunset.

With heavy steps, he walked up the stairs. He hadn’t used his magic, and he hadn’t lost any blood, but he hadn’t slept a single minute last night, and he felt almost as tired as Laurent looked. Giving the door a wistful glance, he walked past the bedroom and into the study, where he sank down onto his cushioned chair.

With a disgruntled noise, he swiped business correspondence and letters aside, going over everything the alleged contact had promised him in his mind as he opened a drawer to grab a fresh sheet of paper. He was going to find out who was behind the attempt on Laurent’s life, and he was going to make sure that person would spend the rest of their very short and very miserable life regretting it.

Did I give him a middle name specifically so she can call him by his full name? It's more likely than you think.

I should give more characters middle names...