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ittybittyfanblog · 5 months ago

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Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man. Anyway, enjoy! This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar?

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were.

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack.

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle.

“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip.

“I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.”

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur.

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you.

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin.

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips.

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen.

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City.

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn.

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval.

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.”

All in reverence.

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference.

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters.

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.”

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.”

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to.

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger.

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection.

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial.

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear.

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust.

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience.

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?”

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.”

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you.

In short, you have no idea where you are.

Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own.

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–

Wait a minute. Sylus.

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore.

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin.

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.”

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity.

And here, the opportunity presents herself.”

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.”

You feel it before you hear it.

“Perhaps not.”

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room.

Suddenly—

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise.

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness.

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You—”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool—lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him—as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction.

You meet his eyes. “You came.”

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.”

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud.

“Luke. Kieran.”

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.”

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly.

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least.

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer.

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin.

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.”

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out.

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?”

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.”

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.”

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look.

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.”

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three.

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake.

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed.

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor.

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for.

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for—and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him.

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from.

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of.

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is now stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel.

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets.

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them.

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM.

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.”

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.)

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed.

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh.

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe.

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler.

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.”

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes.

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?”

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly.

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.”

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian.

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose.

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you—half-lidded and tender.

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.”

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.”

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.”

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #sylus #love and deepspace fic

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rook2ii · 10 months ago

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i literally say "I might be wrong tho" all the freakin time-

@2xhbergggg @oofouchstovehot @luciolefire @ebonisa-draws @editing-something-7

Find your cosmo persona!

Got tagged by the lovely @tamburins

It's 99% accurate 🤣 only two things it got wrong: I respond immediately the second I see the message (otherwise I'll forget it)

And I'd never say "I might be wrong tho" 🤣 my deadly sin is Pride... that's not a sentence I'd say 😅

ANYWAY!!! Let me tag @sanjoongie @moccahobi @limjaeseven @potatomountain @arafilez

#and obviously any one else can also do this #cosmos persona #flurrys-creativity #sunnyys-jarss #starays13 #ayyy-imma-ninja

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mortallydeepestobservation · 1 month ago

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Glitter, glue, I love you

Summary: You and Namjoon have been married for quite some time, your relationship having only grown since you first met as bright-eyed students back in the day. Now, you're a passionate primary school teacher, and Namjoon is an inspiring college professor, both deeply invested in shaping young minds. This holiday season, after a long day at work, you find yourselves staying late to decorate your classroom. Namjoon, ever the considerate soul, swings by to pick you up, but of course, you take advantage of the opportunity and put him to work. As you hang twinkling lights and arrange paper snowflakes, the conversation takes a meaningful turn. In the midst of the holiday madness, you talk about your future, and the idea of starting a family emerges… Best Christmas gift ever. Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: Fluff and smut. Married couple Au. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: this is honestly just a fluffy slice of life drabble. Namjoon is clumsy, and whipped. Spandex? drinking. Smut warnings: soft dom Namjoon, big cock Namjoon, oral (m and f receiving) praise, multiple positions, a little overstimulation, just a smidge of breeding kink. Word count: 14k Author’s note: Okay. I know I have an ongoing story, but I do this thing, where I get overwhelmed with life and just blurt out a whole drabble. Usually in those moments the story I’m already working on drives me insane, so I… do this. sorry?😊 thank you sweet sweet @callmenoona25 for accepting my... quirk when i just drop a whole new fic on your lap out of nowhere lol. Thank you @rpwprpwprpwprw For the perfectly aesthetic joonie photos!

(fun fact, i used to know a baby chicken little. He'd always break his glasses down the middle) Merry Christmas everyone!❄️🎄

Your new crafting scissors glided against the construction paper with ease. A flurry of cut-off bits, small pieces of colourful paper, glitter, pompoms, and anything else that merely resembled a Christmas theme littered your classroom floor.

A delightful chaos surrounded you—scraps of red, green, and gold paper mingled with stray stickers, twisted up pipe cleaners, and the occasional orphaned googly eye. It was a mess, the kind only a classroom holiday crafting session could conjure, and yet here you were, adding more to it.

The new scissors, sharp and precise, were a joy to wield, effortlessly turning construction paper into stars, trees, and snowflakes. You got so absorbed in your work that the mountain of scrap paper piling up next to your desk barely registered anymore.

The room was silent now. The kiddos had left hours ago, followed by a parent-teacher conference and a staff meeting to finalize plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday party. By the time you returned to your classroom, the exhaustion was bone-deep, and the sight of the disaster awaiting you made you groan.

But as you approached your desk and spotted a few abandoned crafts—a lopsided tree, a glue-smeared snowman—a spark of creativity flickered to life. The supplies were already out, and with autumn decorations still clinging to the walls, you figured you might as well get a head start on transforming the room into a winter wonderland before the weekend.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cutting and crafting, glueing and arranging, the silence of the empty classroom wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was practically the only moment during the long, exhausting day when you could to sit down and just let your thoughts wonder.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the sun setting—or the faint creak of your classroom door opening.

“Mrs. Kim, it seems my wife forgot to come home today after class.”

You froze mid-snip, the scissors poised in your hand, a half-finished snowflake dangling from your grip. The familiar voice carried a teasing warmth that made your cheeks flush before you spun around in your chair, to catch a glimpse.

Standing in the doorway was you husband, Namjoon, leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful grin you loved (or occasionally cursed for how easily it could fluster you).

His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and his coat draped over one arm, a telltale sign that he’d come straight from his own long day at work. Yet his smile was bright, his tired eyes twinkling with delight upon seeing you, like he was about to tell you the best pun he ever heard.

“You know, most people would’ve taken that parent-teacher meeting as their cue to call it a day,” he teased, crossing his arms. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the colourful chaos, before settling on you.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound casual as you placed your scissors on the desk and brushed the glitter from your hands, leaning back against the chair. “After that I also had a staff meeting.”

His grin widened. “Did you cut out the staff out of paper?”

You huffed at his playful remark, picking up a pompom from the desk and tossing it in his direction. The fluffy projectile sailed weakly through the air before plopping to the floor with an overly dramatic bounce, getting lost in the multicoloured mess on the ground. “Very funny, Mr. Kim,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your scissors to finish the snowflake.

Namjoon laughed, stepping into the room, his footsteps soft against the glitter-dusted floor. “I prefer clever over funny.”

You mused, pretending to consider his suggestion. “I’ll agree when you grab some paper and make something clever yourself.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I’m just here to admire the handiwork—And maybe rescue my wife before she buries herself in glitter.”

“Too late for that.” You laughed, showing him the underside of your hands, covered in an array of colourful plastic bits and flecks of glitter.

He laughed too, his warmth filling the classroom as he settled into a nearby chair. He watched you with quiet amusement as you snipped away the final pieces of the snowflake.

Once done, you brushed the remains off the desk with a casual sweep of your hand, letting the scraps fall to the already messy floor. Reaching for a spool of string, you began tying a loop to hang the snowflakes.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, “I was just thinking I could use a tall, handsome man to help me hang these from the ceiling.”

His dimples deepened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Should I fetch the principal for you?”

“God, no!” you exclaimed, shooting him a mock-horrified look.

Namjoon’s laughter echoed again, and he stood, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of your chair. “Fine. Lucky for you, I happen to know a tall, handsome man who’s free to lend a hand. On one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed him the snowflake.

“I get to take you out for dinner afterwards.”

“You hang up my décor and I don’t have to cook dinner?” you said with a grin, watching as he reached up to hang the snowflake with ease. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my love.”

Namjoon smirked as he hooked the snowflake onto the ceiling, his long fingers adjusting it so it hung perfectly. “Don’t get too excited. You’re paying, and I’m starving,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you handed him another snowflake. “Starving? You make it sound like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I haven’t eaten enough,” he corrected, taking the snowflake and hanging it with the same care as the first. “Besides, all this helping is hard work. I’m burning calories just by existing in this glitter cloud.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, before standing up and stretching as much as possible, waiting for that satisfying pop that made your back come to life after sitting at your desk for hours.

While Namjoon made remarkable progress on the snowflakes, you retrieved your broom and vacuum cleaner, trying to salvage the floor and not declare war with the cleaning staff in the process.

Once it finally started looking like a classroom again—crayons arranged, glue sticks all capped and drawings proudly hung up on the walls —you fetched your seasonal décor box from the supply closet, gathering the autumn leaves and acorns as you went.

The sound of Namjoon’s soft humming filled the room as he continued to hang the rest of the snowflakes. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, so effortlessly blending into your little world. His tall frame moving with ease as he reached up to secure another delicate snowflake.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you teased, carefully arranging the autumn décor for storage.

“Just trying to make your life easier,” Namjoon replied, his voice warm. He stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips like he’d just solved a complex philosophy problem.

You smiled, unrolling the fairy lights on your desk, silently thanking your teacher assistant for her knack for packing them neatly and knot-free.

“Think you can help me with this too?”

When you looked up, you noticed Namjoon standing next to the wall where your classroom photo was hung up. It was a large picture of you surrounded by your students, all laughing and holding colourful balloons.

The parents had given it to you as a gift on the first day of this school year, though it had been taken during the end-of-year celebration when your little first graders graduated.

Around the group photo, you’d carefully arranged individual pictures of each child, their names neatly written underneath and decorated with felt stickers.

Namjoon stood quietly, his eyes scanning the display with a soft smile tugging at his lips. His expression was a mix of pride and warmth, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“What’s baby Chicken Little up to?” he asked, glancing over at you, the playful nickname making you giggle.

Last year your heart had been stolen by a little boy named Minjun, who made it his yearlong mission to bring you a leaf or a flower every single day of school. His little backpack was almost as big as he was, and he’d always greet you with the brightest, most infectious smile when he walked through the door, before dropping the little plant on your desk and giving you an adorable bow.

You’d told Namjoon all about him at the end of each day, and when you proudly showed him the photo you’d snapped of Minjun on your phone, Namjoon cooed and playfully nicknamed him baby Chicken Little. All because of his “iconic green glasses,” which happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones the animated character wore.

“He’s doing really well. A little genius when it comes to multiplications, although his calligraphy could use some work.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples making an appearance as he glanced back at Minjun’s photo. “Multiplications, huh? Guess he’s already ahead of the curve.”

You smiled fondly, scavenging through your storage boxes for the chalk markers. “He’s a sharp one. Always so curious. His mom says he’s been teaching his little sister how to count using her barbie dolls.

Namjoon’s expression softened further. “Sounds like a future teacher in the making.”

You giggle, “Only if he can pass your philosophy 101 class in college.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m not as mean as you make me out to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, pausing your search for the chalk markers to give him a teasing look. “Not as mean? Should I remind you about that one student—what was his name? Jungkook? —who said your essay prompts were harder than his organic chemistry final?”

Namjoon groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That was one time! And he clearly didn’t read the syllabus.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, stifling a laugh as you finally found the markers, holding them up triumphantly. “I’m just saying, if Minjun wants to pass your class, he better start practicing his critical thinking skills now.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, feigning offense. “For the record, my students love me. I’m approachable, insightful, and, dare I say... inspiring.”

You watched as Namjoon gave you that challenging look, daring you to tease him further. But deep down, you knew 100% that he was right.

After all, he’d proudly told you about Jungkook— the ‘Muscle Bunny’—who, by the end of the year, would refuse to leave the classroom after lessons, just for a chance to talk with Namjoon about everything from philosophy to general life issues. (And on more than one occasion, you had to swing by the college to collect your husband, because they were both so emersed in the conversation.)

Sure, Jungkook may have started out as a bit of a tough nut, but by the end of the semester, he was one of Namjoon’s biggest fans.

You chuckled softly at the thought. Namjoon had a way of drawing people in, even the most unlikely candidates. It’s what made him such an outstanding teacher. And you couldn’t be happier that you managed to snatch him up before he even graduated with his teacher’s degree.

“I know you are.” You said honestly, watching his posture soften, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the compliment.

Namjoon’s dimples deepened, and he turned back to look at the photos on the wall. A comforting silence falling over the classroom again as you started drawing with the chalk markers on the windows.

It was just as you were finishing the last details of the snowman that Namjoon spoke again, his voice steady but carrying a weight that immediately caught your attention.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?”

The question hung in the air, quiet and unexpected, causing you to freeze mid-stroke. Your hand suspended, the tip of the marker just inches away from the snowman’s little top hat. You hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always been thoughtful, but this… this was something entirely different.

You turned slowly, finding him looking at you, his expression unreadable but soft. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but was waiting for your answer nonetheless.

“Good parents?” you repeated, your voice quieter than usual, the weight of the question settling into your chest. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry—it felt loaded and significant. It felt like he was asking something deeper, something that might change your life in the very near future.

Namjoon seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but instead, he stayed silent, letting the question linger.

You cleared your throat, your thoughts racing. Was he asking about parenting techniques? Was this a hypothetical question, or was there something more to it? You couldn’t quite tell. But the thought of it—of you and Namjoon as parents—flashed across your mind, and for a split second, you felt a warmth spread in your chest.

You’d talked about your future many times—even while you were still just dating—and you both agreed you wanted kids. But there was never a set timeline or a specific goal you wanted to reach before starting a family.

You took a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts as the weight of the question settled in your mind. The idea of having a baby—it was something you’d talked about casually, even dreamt about in passing. But now, with his eyes on you, the conversation suddenly felt real, more tangible than it ever had before.

You finally put the chalk marker down on the desk, turning fully to face him. “You’ve asked me before about the future,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “But this... this feels different. Are you asking because you’re actually thinking about it?”

Namjoon looked at you, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks heat up. “I mean-” he said after a beat, his voice almost uncertain. “I guess I’ve been thinking about it more lately, especially with everything we’ve built together. I don’t think we can get any more financially stable. And we’ve got a good thing, right? We work well as a team. I just... I wonder what it would be like to take that next step, with you.”

Your heart nearly exploded, a big grin spreading across your face that would certainly make your cheeks hurt if you kept it up. He had a way of making everything feel possible, of making you believe in the future even when you didn’t have all the answers. The thought of raising kids with him, of teaching them the way you both wanted to, filled you with an overwhelming sense of warmth and certainty.

“I think we’d be great,” you said, your voice full of honest affection. “We’d make an amazing team. I know we’ve got the love, the patience, and the understanding to do it.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, as if taking in your words, before a soft smile crept onto his face.

You knew you weren’t about to get a confirmation from him, not now at least. Namjoon needed to steep in his thoughts a bit more before he would finally and ultimately tell you he wants a baby.

Still, his smile lingered, and he slowly nodded, as if to affirm your words without needing to say anything else just yet.

The silence between you both felt comfortable, like a promise for the future—an unspoken understanding that this was a conversation that didn’t need to be rushed.

After a moment, he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft but sure.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace settle in your chest. Even despite hearing those same exact words come out his mouth millions of times, they still wrapped around you like a protective embrace, making everything else, every worry, every unfinished plan and every glitter-littered snowflake fade into the background.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the moment. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with the same devotion that was in his eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, before glancing around the classroom, “What did you ask me to do?”

“Fairy lights, Joon.”

Namjoon chuckled softly at your reminder, his fingers still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he stepped back. “Right, right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got distracted from the important things.”

You watched him walk toward the desk to finish hanging the fairy lights, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you returned to your drawing. The weight of the earlier conversation still lingered in the air, but it left you with a spark of excitement.

As he carefully draped the lights along the chalkboard, you noticed how effortlessly he moved, how much care he put into making sure everything was perfect. You’d always admired that about him—his attention to detail, his quiet confidence in everything he did. And now, with every little task, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of certainty.

“Almost done,” Namjoon called out, glancing over his shoulder. You gave him a thumbs-up, your smile widening as he finished the last strand of lights.

The classroom now looked like a cozy little haven, with the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle warmth over the space. Everything felt perfect.

You capped your marker once the windows were done, and walked over to your desk to organize a little bit, putting away the potentially dangerous supplies, before closing the drawers and the boxes.

Namjoon stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he admired the room. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it’s still missing one thing.”

You frowned, stopping mid-motion, to glance around. “What’s that?”

He reached down, gently tugging you to your feet and closing the last box for you. “Us. Out of here, enjoying a well-deserved dinner.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his coat and your bag before stepping away from the desk. Namjoon fetched your coat from the hanger, draping it over your shoulders with a soft smile. He then took your hand, a firm but gentle hold, and started guiding you toward the door, almost certain that if he didn’t, you’d find something else to do.

As you walked together, you paused by to the classroom pet cage, drawn by the soft rustling inside. The little chinchilla scamped out of his enclosure and over to the bars, his nose twitching as he looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

“Did I tell you we need to take Professor Fluff this Christmas break?” You asked, grabbing a treat from the nearby jar and tossing it into the cage, watching as the chinchilla eagerly snatched it up and started nibbling on it.

Namjoon, holding the door open for you, tilted his head as you walked back to him.

“Wasn’t it Teacher Assistant Park’s turn?”

“She’s pregnant, Namjoonie. She can’t.”

You slipped your hand into his, smiling as his fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the dimly lit school halls.

“She should be able to handle a chinchilla if she expects to take care of a baby.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “No, babe, it’s about allergies.”

Namjoon sighed dramatically but couldn’t fully hide his grin. “That settle it. Definitely getting you pregnant. Even if only for the perks —wife comes home on time, and I get to have her all to myself for the holidays.”

You blushed furiously at his comment, a big, droopy smile tugging on your lips.

“Oh, come on. How much time do you think Professor Fluff is going to keep me occupied?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against him as you walk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, playful glint in his eyes. “With what I have planned for you, more than I like.” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him as the two of you stepped out into the crisp evening air.

You laugh, your cheeks still warm from the blush he had put there. Namjoon's teasing always had a way of making your heart flutter, but this time, there was something deeper in his words—something that felt like it carried a promise.

“I swear, you really know how to keep me on my toes,” You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch on your hand as he guided you out into the crisp evening air.

He grinned, pulling you closer to him as you made your way to the car. “That's the idea. Keep you guessing, keep you interested.” He gave you a wink, the playful glint never leaving his eyes, even as he opened the driver’s door for you.

“I don’t think you need to work too hard at it. You're already the most interesting person I know.” You said when he settled into the passengers seat.

Namjoon's smile softened, and for a moment, you could see the sincerity behind his teasing demeanour.

“I like that you think that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as he slowly leaned over the console to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

You melted into him, the soft press of his lips against yours lingering for just a moment longer than usual, making your heart race. It was the type of kiss that had you coming back for more, the kind that melted all your worries away, and made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

As he pulled away, he gave you a playful smile, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Now please drive. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone, your heart still fluttering from the lingering kiss.

“Always about food with you,” you sigh, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. “I guess I'll just have to accept that food is your first love.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous. “Well, if food's my first love, you, my dear, are my favourite dessert.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a mix of amusement and affection swirling inside you, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach.

You glanced over at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?” You said, your voice teasing as you focused on the road.

Namjoon's grin widened; his eyes gleaming. “Absolutely. You’re sweet, irresistible, and I could spend hours between your legs.”

A flush crept up your cheeks as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, the tension between you two shifting. His words hung in the air, teasing but also carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken.

“Keep talking like that and I'm taking you home,” you threatened.

Namjoon’s expression shifted in an instant from playful to mock-serious. “No, no,” he whined, leaning back into the seat with a dramatic sigh. “I promise I'll be good.”

You giggle. “What do you want to eat then?”

He lit up again, his mock seriousness giving way to his usual enthusiasm. “That little BBQ place that opened up down the street from us.”

“The one you haven’t stopped talking about since they put up the ‘coming soon’ sign?”

“That’s the one,” he admitted unabashedly, his grin growing wider “It’s fate. They opened just in time for us to have the perfect date.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned the car toward home. “I guess it is. But I’m parking at home and we can walk—that way, I can drink too.”

“Oh, is my baby planning to get wasted tonight?” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“No,” you chuckled, glancing at him with a smirk. “But I know for a fact you’re going to order that fancy whiskey you always get, and I don’t want to be stuck as the designated driver.”

Namjoon laughed, his deep dimpled grin lighting up his face. “Fair point. That whiskey is worth the walk. And hey, I’ll carry you home if you have one too many.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. It hasn’t been such a bad week” you smile at him, “But I won’t say no to being spoiled by you a little.”

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’ll spoil you every chance I get.”

You couldn't help but grin at his words, the warmth in his voice making your blush reappear. There was something so comforting in the way he always knew how to make you feel special, how he was so genuine in every little thing he did for you.

“So, you’re paying tonight?”

“Nope,” he smiled, popping the p, and earning a heartfelt laughter from you.

As the two of you approached your home, you turned the car into the driveway, the familiar sight of your house welcoming you. Namjoon was already getting out of the car, his excitement for the evening palpable.

“Let me grab my bag, and we’ll head out,” you said, stepping out of the car and locking it. Namjoon waited by the gate, glancing around as the evening air started to cool, a few stray little snowflakes lazily drifting through the air. The stars above twinkled in the dark sky, and the soft hum of the city around you made it feel like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s go,” you replied with a grin, your arm slipping through his. You walked down the quiet street together, the comfortable rhythm of your steps matching each other effortlessly.

The neighbourhood was peaceful, with only a few cars passing by, and the crisp air reddening the tip of your nose. As you reached the corner of the street, the warm glow of the BBQ restaurant came into view. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation, and reminding you your last meal was breakfast, many hours ago.

“There it is,” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve been dreaming of this all week.”

You laughed, the sound easy and full of affection. “It’s definitely been a long time coming, huh?”

“Worth the wait,” he replied, grinning.

As you entered the restaurant, the cozy atmosphere wrapped around you, and the delicious smells only heightened your anticipation. Namjoon gave you a playful glance, watching as you all but jump with excitement, before leading you to a little booth. You, of course, slid in next to him, and cuddled up against his side as you waited for the waiter. Namjoon grinned as you cuddled up against his side, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. The booth was small, but cozy, and the warm lighting of the restaurant made it feel like a private little nook just for the two of you.

As you settled in, your gaze drifted to the menu, although, truthfully, you were more focused on the tall and handsome man next to you. His warm presence besides you, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make you feel safe and cared for. The man who wanted a family with you, who would undoubtedly take perfect, tender care of your little human being, and who would hang out at the museum talk hours on end about his favourite pieces with the kiddo, like they could grasp every single concept. Before, undoubtedly trying to teach your baby the deepest philosophy concepts ever, and five different musical instruments all at once.

The waiter soon approached, and Namjoon, with his usual confidence, ordered for the both of you without missing a beat. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted—he already knew. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. He always did that, always taking care of things in his own calm, capable way. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

Once the drinks arrived—a neat whiskey bottle that you couldn’t remember the name of—you clinked your glasses together in a soft toast.

“To perfect dates,” Namjoon said with a glint in his eye, his voice warm and filled with affection as he held his glass up to yours.

“To many more to come,” you replied, your voice light but sincere, the sound of it carrying a promise in the air between you.

The glass met with a soft clink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled in your chest as you took your first sip, savouring the smooth, smoky flavour. Namjoon mirrored your actions, the ice in his glass gently clinking as he took a long sip, never breaking his gaze from you.

You smiled at him, the familiar tenderness filling your heart, a slow, easy feeling of contentment settling over you. There was something special about moments like this—about sharing time in each other’s presence, just the two of you, with no outside distractions.

It reminded you of your first few dates, back when you two were both overworked students with a seriously high number of sleepless nights, and a very poor diet consisting mostly of cola and noodles. Back when he was so nervous that he basically talked to himself the whole date, stumbling over his words in a rush to make the ‘conversation flow’, but still managing to make you laugh with his awkward charm. You didn’t tease him about it back then, how could you? When he’d look at you like you could single-handedly change the world with a flutter of your eyelashes.

And when you agreed to a second date, he gave you the biggest, cheesiest smile you ever saw, before accidentally bumping into you as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, somehow managing to smack you in the face with his forehead.

You froze for a second, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence, before he apologized in a flurry and left you alone and confused in front of your dorm room.

Imagine his surprise when you called him for details about the promised second date.

Even so, there was never a moment when Namjoon ever made you feel unsafe, or like he was going out with you just to make up for his awkwardness. No, despite his nervousness, he always made sure you felt valued, cherished, and like you were the most important person in the room. That was one of the things you’d grown to love about him. He was sincere in every gesture, every word, even when he felt uncertain about himself.

That second date he got to kiss you right.

You had both come a long way since then. The clumsy first kiss was just a part of the story now, a little cherished memory that always brought a warm smile to your lips whenever you thought about it. You’d grown together since that day, and with each date, each shared moment, your bond had only deepened.

Now, here you were, sitting next from him, your husband, in this cozy little restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey and the various dishes that the waiter brought out for you.

Everything felt right. There was no doubt in your mind that this, right here, was exactly where you were meant to be.

Namjoon caught your eye, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re smiling to yourself.”

“I’m happy,” you replied simply.

Namjoon softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “Me too,” he said, his words wrapping around your heart and making it jump in your chest. You quickly leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, giggling a bit when he let out a soft, surprised puff, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected gesture. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice light with amusement but still smooth .

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the devotion in your gaze unwavering. “For making me happy. And for hanging the snowflakes in my classroom.” You paused for a quick second, before smirking. “And for paying for dinner?”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “Nope.”

He laughed at your fake little pout, before holding out his chopsticks to you. “Here, try this.”

You opened your mouth wide, waiting for him to feed you the piece of beef he cooked, only for it to fall from his chopsticks and right on your button-down shirt.

You both froze for a moment, staring at the little piece of beef resting on your chest. Namjoon blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief before he broke into a fit of laughter, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

“Smooth,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the beef and popped it into your mouth, before grabbing a napkin to wipe away the mess on your shirt.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon said, still laughing, but his voice filled with genuine concern. “I swear I aimed for your mouth.”

You dabbed the spot on your shirt, trying to suppress your own laughter. “That’s what he said.”

At that little comment he gave you a deep belly laugh, a hand covering his mouth, before grabbing another napkin for you.

“I’ll take it to the cleaners tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He still giggled like a little kid watching you try to rub the stain away.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart warm at the small, sweet gesture. “I think it’s fine,” you said, your voice softening as you met his eyes. “It's just a shirt. But it’s the thought that counts.”

Namjoon tilted his head, his dimpled grin returning. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, leaning in slightly, his voice lower and softer. “I swear.”

The temptation to flirt back tugged at you, but the urge to tease him was simply too strong to resist.

“You can start by not burning the rest of the meat on the grill.”

“Shit!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he whipped around to check the grill. The sizzling sound of beef filled the air, and he immediately sprang into action, grabbing the tongs and flipping the steaks with exaggerated haste.

“Shit, shit!” he muttered under his breath, his hands moving quickly but still a little too late to save the edges of the tender cuts from burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the frantic yet adorable way he tried to salvage the meal. "Maybe next time, don’t get so distracted by my chest," you teased, leaning back in your chair with a sly grin

“I swear I’m a better cook when I’m not trying to impress you.” he confessed with an embarrassed smile that made your heart pick up again.

“Why are you still trying to impress me? You’re already getting in my pants tonight.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his side.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the grill with renewed determination.

You let out a laugh, unable to resist bugging him further. “Come on, Namjoonie, you don’t have to work this hard for me. I’m already sold. Burned beef and all.”

He shot you a quick look over his shoulder, his dimple making a reappearance as he smirked. “Oh, I know you’re sold. But I still have to keep my reputation intact. Can’t have you thinking you married a man who can’t even grill properly.”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly drawn to you for your cooking skills to begin with.”

Namjoon smirked, his eyes briefly flicking to yours with a teasing glint before he said, “Good. Then I guess my other skills will have to do now too.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Mr. Kim. You keep that up, and I’m taking you home.”

Namjoon’s laugh was loud and deep, echoing around the room as he handed you the piece of meat. “Eat first,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone firm but the amusement dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “And you’re getting dessert too.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, smirking “You’re just going to eat half of whatever I pick, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he admitted shamelessly, his grin widening in triumph, dropping some veggies on your plate too.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as you reached for the menu. “Fine. Let’s get the profiteroles. They look amazing, and you can’t mess up sharing that.”

Namjoon arched a brow. “Are you implying I messed up sharing earlier?”

You shot him a pointed look, lips twitching with amusement. “There’s beef on my shirt, Namjoon.”

Namjoon paused mid-grin, glancing down at your chest, before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. No more distractions.” He turned back to the grill, but not without throwing you a cheeky wink first. “Although, just for the record, you’re quite distracting when you wear that skirt.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I swear, you're impossible.”

Yet there wasn’t even a crumb of conviction in your tone.

The evening carried on naturally, the warmth of the alcohol and the steady rhythm of conversation made everything feel comfortable. The intimate little interludes— the flirting, teasing, the way his eyes never strayed far from you—kept the energy between you two charged. You weren’t sure whether it was the drinks, or Namjoon’s smile, or a mix of both, but you couldn’t deny the way everything felt amplified. You were tipsy, needy, and feeling more than a little flushed.

Namjoon noticed it before you did, that little shift in the air around you. He leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he casually placed his hand over thigh. “You’re looking a little red,” he remarked softly, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, shifting slightly in your seat. “I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Mm, I noticed,” he said, his voice smooth, low. He didn’t pull his hand away, but instead gave your leg a gentle squeeze, before moving his hand higher up edging the seam of your skirt, “You look adorable though.”

A soft heat spread through you, making your heart beat in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. There was something in his gaze—something undeniably intense—that made the air between you feel thick. Like you could just eat him up, and he’d thank you.

“Do I need to carry you home?”

“No.” You swallowed, shifting your eyes away. “But you should stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush.” You replied, trying to play it off, but your words felt like they were slipping from your lips a little too easily. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing, as if he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

Namjoon’s gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in a fraction closer. His thumb gently stroked your skin, the simple touch sending a spark of heat straight to your core. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach twist in the most wonderful of ways.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible under the weight of his attention. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, not sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

The playful banter felt more like a slow burn now, the kind that lingered in the spaces between your words and between your slowed movements.

“Mm?”

“Please get the tab, so I can pay and we can go.”

Namjoon’s lips curled, his fingers still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Impatient, baby?” He murmured, his voice deeper now, like he was savouring the effect he was having on you.

You nodded, the growing need clouding your thoughts. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible. “I want to go home.”

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of existence. His breath was warm against your skin, and the weight of his gaze made you feel both exposed and electrified. It didn’t even register that you were out in public anymore, or that there were other patrons around. The only thing on your mind was his dark eyes staring at you.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, his smirk never wavering. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He slid his hand off your leg, but not without one last lingering touch—soft, deliberate, and devastating—leaving you absolutely wrecked as he leaned back to call the waiter.

(Of course, he didn’t even let you see the tab, snatching it up and paying for your meal without a second thought.)

Every movement of his was slow, measured, like he knew exactly where your limit was and he was drawing it all out with maddening precision. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, humming in the spaces where his fingers lingered, where his gaze met yours.

And when he brushed your hair to the side to help you slip into your coat, his hand found the back of your neck, resting there for just a second longer than necessary—firm and warm, enough to leave your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

The moment the door of the restaurant swung open, a gust of cold air hit you, the crisp night biting at your skin. The alcohol in your blood dulled slightly, replaced by the clarity of the chill as you instinctively pulled your coat tighter around you. Yet, the thin fabric did little to shield you from the cold, the breeze slipping through the seams.

Namjoon was right beside you, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street as if the cold didn’t faze him at all. With a glance your way, he stepped closer, shrugging his own coat higher on his shoulders before slipping his arm around you without hesitation. His hand rested lightly on your back, the weight of it both grounding and comforting.

His warmth beside you was enough to make the walk more bearable, and the anticipation bubbling inside you made it all worthwhile.

He turned to you, a slight smile on his lips. “Cold out here, huh?” he said, his breath visible in the night air, quickly leading you towards your home.

You nodded, pulling your scarf up a little higher to shield your face from the cold.

Without a word, Namjoon slid his arm around your shoulders, tucking you closer to his side. His touch was casual yet deliberate, like he didn’t need permission but still silently asked for it. The fabric of his coat was rough against your cheek, but his body heat bled through, chasing away the chill that had started to seep into your skin.

The street was quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long, soft shadows as you walked side by side. Those shy snowflakes from earlier now growing bolder, swirling down in earnest. They clung to your hair and coat, melting into tiny droplets against the warmth of your skin.

Namjoon’s hand shifted after a while, slipping down to find yours. Without hesitation, he slid both into the pocket of his coat, the gesture so natural and intimate that it made your stomach flutter anew. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, a small but steady movement that set your heart racing. Each step brought you closer together, your shoulders brushing now and then, as you neared your house.

His presence, the solid warmth of him beside you, was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the crisp night air as he glanced over at you.

You nodded, your breath forming soft clouds in the cold. “Yeah. This is nice.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nice? You’re freezing.”

“You’re hot.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, accompanied by a fit of giggles that felt almost too loud in the still night. The alcohol still hummed faintly in your system, loosening your tongue, but it was worth it just to see Namjoon stutter, his eyebrows raising.

And then he laughed, full and rich, the sound reverberating through you. “Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head with an amused smile. His cheeks tinged pink—maybe from the cold, maybe not—as he reached into his other pocket, pulling out his set of keys.

“Smooth,” he teased, glancing sideways at you as he fiddled with them, making quick work of finding the right one. The lock clicked open, and he stepped aside to let you in first, the warmth of the indoors beckoning you like a sanctuary.

As you passed, he caught your arm gently, his fingers brushing along its length. His eyes met yours, a daring glint in them that suddenly made your heart pick up again.

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon pins you to the first flat surface as soon as you walked through the door, fucking every single sensible though out of your brain, and that idea sends a tingle of excitement coursing through your body. You smile up at him, leaning further into his touch.

But Namjoon is undeterred.

“Don’t make snow all over the place. I mopped yesterday.”

You tilted your head, a little indignant puff escaping your lips before you smirk, toeing off your snowy boots by the door. “You’re so sexy when you do chores.” You push your luck further, but your lovely husband can’t seem to pick up on it.

“That’s it. No more drinks for you.”

“Mm, you love it,” you teased, stepping past him into the warmth of the hallway.

The cozy embrace of the house wrapped around you, softening the crisp chill that clung to your skin, inviting that sense of ease that only your home could bring. You made quick work of shedding your coat and boots, setting them neatly by the door before stretching your arms high above your head, a little moan escaping your lips as the tension of the day melted away.

Namjoon glanced over just in time to catch your little display, his eyes flickering with amusement—and something else. “Comfortable already?” he shrugged off his own coat and tossing it over a chair.

“Very,” you replied with a content sigh. Without much thought, you made your way to the living room and plopped down on the couch, curling up against the soft cushions.

Namjoon followed behind, shaking the snow from his hair before taking his seat right next to you. His long body settled into the couch with easy grace, his head leaning back against the cushions, eyes lazily studying you as you sink further into the couch.

The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, combining perfectly with the comfortable silence that filled the air. You could feel the weight of the night slip away.

The alcohol was still buzzing lightly through your veins, making you feel a little lighter, more complacent.

Namjoon shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as his hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers resting there with an easy familiarity. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your skirt, and when he shifted again, his touch grew bolder, fingers tracing slow circles just above your knee.

The small touch made your heart pickup again, and you looked up at him, catching the softness in his expression as he glanced back at you.

“So tired,” he confessed, almost like it was a secret. The day had been long for both of you, and you had no doubt the holiday season weighed just as heavily on him. Sure, yours was filled with glittering snowflakes and loud kids singing out of tune Christmas carols, while his likely consisted of conference calls, paper grading and presentations, but fatigue didn’t discriminate.

Still, there was something about the evening, the silence between you two, that made it all feel worthwhile. The day was over, but the night had a way of stretching on, leaving just enough space for small moments like this. Because with Namjoon, there was always something that made the world feel quieter, easier. Like he was grounding you, helping you recharge in a way no one else could.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response, your voice a little dreamy as you let your head fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder.

“You look tired too,” he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness, still his hand shifted to the inside of your thigh, fingers massaging your skin softly.

“I am,” you admitted with a small sigh, your body naturally melting into his touch as the knots in your muscles began to dissolve.

Yet, even as your body relaxed, a spark flickered deep in your belly—undeniable and growing—kindled by the deliberate care in his movements, each touch purposeful and impossible to ignore.

“But I’m also horny,” you tack on after a few seconds, your voice a little breathy, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching for his reaction.

Namjoon’s hand stilled for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze dropped briefly to where his fingers rested against your leg, then lifted to meet your eyes. His smile turned slow, deliberate, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally responded.

“Is my baby needy?”

You nodded slowly, feeling completely vulnerable under his deliberate admiration “Yeah,” you whispered, the word falling form your lips like a confession. “I want you.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back if you wanted to. But the way his eyes locked onto yours, the way his touch lingered now a little longer, a little rougher, said he wasn’t going anywhere unless you wanted him to.

Instead of answering, you shifted, turning around to straddle his hips, tugging your skirt higher in the process so you could sit comfortably on his lap.

“Always,” you muttered, your voice a breathy promise before closing the gap between you. You pressed your lips to his with fervour, cutting off the teasing words he was no doubt ready to deliver, swallowing them whole.

Namjoon’s hands quickly went to your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, and you giggled when he squeezed at your flesh, then shifted like he sensed something unusual.

“What are you wearing?” Namjoon murmured against your mouth, his breath warm and pleasant. The low timbre of his voice made you giggle, the vibration of your laughter mingling with the tickle of his breath.

“Spandex,” you replied with a grin. “How do you think my butt looks so good in this skirt?” With a playful movement, you lifted the hem of your skirt just enough to show him. The spandex hugged your curves perfectly, a sly smirk plastered on your face.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the spandex before his hand returned to its frisky grip on your ass. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, as if memorizing every curve.

“Sexy,” he concluded. His other hand grabbing the edge of your shorts and letting it slap against your skin; the gesture drawing another burst of giggles from you.

“The sexiest,” you replied, your laughter dissolving into a grin as you shook your head. With an easy motion, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, muffling your laughter against his shirt.

It was ridiculous, you knew that—the whole moment—but there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell. Like he found you beautiful even in the silliness, even in spandex.

You remained like that for a moment, enveloped in the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. His hands continued their gentle kneading of your flesh, and you shifted your hips, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through your clothes.

Namjoon let out a soft huff, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes, an impish glint in your own. With a wicked smile, you began moving your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding against him, enjoying the way he hardens beneath you. His hands tightened, pulling you closer, a soft moan escaping his lips as he let his head fall back against the couch.

“Ah, babe-” His voice was strained, thick with desire, the heat between you intensifying, his hips buckling up slightly.

Your hands wander up his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath his shirt. You can feel his heart racing, matching your own as you lose yourself in the rhythm you’d set. With a bit of fumbling, you managed to unbutton his shirt, watching as he shivered under the touch of your cold fingers as you chart his toned muscles.

“Fuck. Kiss me please,” he breathed out, his voice rough and needy.

Your mouth hovered just few inches away from his, the warmth of his wrapping around you like a cocoon. Close enough to count the moles and freckles that dotted his skin, to take in the slight stubble along his jaw. His breath mingled with yours, teasing your lips.

Your gaze flickered down, lingering on his mouth for just a moment longer.

And then, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, your lips find his in a fervent kiss. His mouth moved with yours, tongues tangling as you explored him, your hands roaming the expanse of his now exposed chest. The kiss was all-consuming, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you since he stepped into your classroom earlier today.

Namjoon's hands are not idle either. They roam up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver. You can feel his arousal pressing against your core, and you grind against him, eliciting a low moan from him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs. “I want you so bad.”

His words send another wave of heat through you, and you deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You can feel the tension building between you, your own arousal growing with every passing moment.

With a reluctant movement, you pull away to stand up, your skirt falling back down to your thighs as you stare down at him. Namjoon looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as you slowly, deliberately, begin to undress for him.

Pulling your button down over your head, you let it fall at his feet, watching the way his eyes barely flicker to it. Instead, Namjoon watches you, his breath quickening as you reveal more and more of your body to him.

You slip out of your skirt, tossing it aside as you stand before him in nothing but your spandex shorts and a lacy bra. His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body with a hungry gaze.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing, watching you kneel between his legs on the floor, your hands quickly moving to his belt to unbuckle it.

You take your time with it, savouring the way his breath hitches as you brush your fingers against his hardness. Once the belt is undone, you unbutton his pants and pull them down, taking his boxers with them. Namjoon lifts his hips to help, his gaze never leaving yours.

Now that he's fully exposed, you can't help but admire him; He's always been handsome, but in this moment, with desire burning in his eyes and his body tense with need, his unbuttoned shirt still clinging to his shoulders, he was downright irresistible.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock, hard and ready, resting against his stomach, and he hisses in a deep breath, melting under your touch.

“Fuck.” His head falls back against the couch pillows, breaking eye contact once you wrap your lips against his dick, running your tongue over his leaking tip, swirling it and dipping it into the slit, enjoying the lewd sounds that escaped from his chest without abandon.

Emboldened, you keep taking him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and finding a steady rhythm that has him unravelling quickly. Your tongue rolling over his head every time you come back up.

Your hand starts working the part you can’t reach mirroring the rhythm you've set with your mouth, unleashing a flood of moans from him.

Namjoon’s hips buck, accidentally bumping the back of your throat, making you gag, and a quick, weak apology falls from his lips, although you feel like he doesn’t truly mean it, because he does it again right after.

But you barely care, because his taut stomach clenches, showcasing his pretty abs, and the long, low sound he makes sends a new wave of wetness between your legs, urging you on. You were the one making him weak. You were pleasuring him in such a way that made him lose himself.

“Just like that, love.” He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, not tugging at it, but guiding your movements, fucking your mouth. You keep up with him, your lips now redden, tongue rolling on the underside, and your chin covered in spit as you bob faster.

The room is filled with the wet vulgar sounds your mouth makes and his low groans, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

“Fuck. Babe, stop.” He whimpers, tugging at your hair. “I’m close. Don’t want to cum-”

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls you away, holding you just out of reach as his head falls back against the couch, a long miserable “Fuuuuuck,” filling the space between you, as if he’d just received the worst news ever.

You blink up at him, your mind scrambling to understand his sudden outburst. His gaze meets yours again, and the regret swimming in his eyes deepens your confusion.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.” He groaned, voice thick with frustration, his fingers releasing their hold on your hair.

Your hand stilled mid-movement, your head tilting slightly as you tried to make sense of his words.

“You… can’t get blowjobs?” you asked cautiously, your knees wobbling as you stood up, bracing yourself against his legs for stability.

“What? No,” he blurted, his brows furrowing in indignation. “I forgot to go to the store. We’re out of condoms.”

Namjoon looked utterly defeated, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady you. Yet, there was something almost comical in the way his lips formed the smallest of pouts.

You bit down hard on the wicked grin threatening to spread across your face. He was adorable—even now, red hard cock pulsing against his chiselled thighs, neck flushed red, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. Likely scolding himself for forgetting something so crucial.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, and again, you bury your face into his shoulder, leaning into him to press a kiss against his neck, drawing his gaze back to you. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles against your hips, grounding both of you as you whispered softly into his ear, “We could always go without.”

Namjoon froze. The suggestion sent a visible shiver through him, and his eyes widening slightly.

For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the heater in the background, the suggestion hanging in the air between you like a loaded secret. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly as he stared at you, trying to gauge how serious you were—or how far he could let himself go without losing control.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out broken despite his best efforts, and you lean back to look at his face, your hands holding onto his shoulders.

“It would make a nice Christmas gift.” You admit, almost bashful, but maintaining eye contact.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The playful tension had melted away, replaced by something heavier, more profound.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course, not” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “I want that too. I want a family with you.”

His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

Namjoon let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes closing as if to let your words sink in fully. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really fucking love you.” He murmured, his hands settling more firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your lips quirked into a small smile, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You better,” you whispered back. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Without warning, his arms tightened around you, and in one smooth motion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders for balance.

“Namjoon!”

But he only laughed at your reaction, the sound of it lighting up his features as he carried you down the hallway with ease. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, steadying you, and even despite your mock annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Don’t think being my wife means you can get away with teasing me like that,” he murmured. His steps were steady, purposeful, the warm glow of the bedroom lights spilling out into the hallway as he nudged the door open with his foot.

You grinned, brushing a soft kiss against his jaw. “Actually, I think it means exactly that.”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk as he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let you go, while your legs remained wrapped around his hips, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. His gaze roamed over you, warm and full of affection, but the spark of desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other trailed down your side, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“You love it,” you replied, your tone just as playful as you tugged him closer.

Namjoon hummed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, every touch and movement making you feel lighter, like you were floating.

His soft lips were moving yours and controlling the kiss, and you melted in his arms, letting him do anything he wanted. He pushed your lips open, and you willingly allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, moaning against him when he hooked it around your lip to softly bite on it.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of the connection between you two. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders to push away his shirt, letting it fall off somewhere, and in response, Namjoon pressed against you further, pushing you into the mattress.

You can feel the weight of his body on you, every inch of him pressed against your curves, and you revel in the sensation, though it does very little to soothe the burning ache spreading through you. You try to arch your back, try to make your hips meet, desperate to feel more of him, but Namjoon keeps you pinned down. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you're lightheaded from the kiss, each one of his lingering touches drawing you deeper.

His hands move with purpose, gliding down your arm and leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Each touch feels purposeful, yet it only strokes the fire within you, the tension between you building with every measured caress.

Namjoon shifts, his lips abandoning yours to travel along your jaw and neck. Soft and warm, they graze your skin, leaving a searing path of heat that makes your breath hitch with every press of his mouth.

The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his breath on your neck made your head spin, the room narrowing to just the two of you.

You gasp when he nips at your neck, his lips a welcome contrast to the sting of his teeth. His hips rock against yours, and you moan at the feeling, even if it's just his length pressing against you, but at this point, you’d take anything to ease the lustful haze that clouded your mind.

“Joonie,” you whimper squeezing your thighs around his hips, “Please.”

You fought to keep your breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft like caramel, dripping with longing, his hands still caressing the sides of your body, stopping over your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra.

You mewl, arching instinctively towards his touch. “Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice hushed, sounding so needy that you barely recognise it as your own.

His eyes shift to your face for a quick second, a big teasing smirk tugging on his lips.

“Mmm, I will.” He replies casually, before pinching your nipples through your bra. A little whimper falls from your lips as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you.

He tugs your bra down, letting your tits spill out, and with an almost primal movement, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continues to tease and pinch the other one. You gasp, throwing your head back, letting out soft moans as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breaths against your chest, goosebumps erupting across your skin, before switching his attention to your other nipple.

You look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire. His hands slide down your body and you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your spandex shorts, tugging them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him.

He lifts his head from your breast, his lips red and slightly swollen, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You feel a flicker of shyness wash over you, an instinctive reaction under his steady, adoring eyes. It isn’t that Namjoon ever made you feel uncomfortable—far from it. If anything, he had taught you more about how to love yourself than anyone else ever had.

But still, those small insecurities lingered, faint whispers at the back of your mind. The little things only you noticed, the things you thought didn’t measure up. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze, the way his touch seemed to erase every doubt and hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but brimming with conviction, like he couldn’t hold the words back even if he tried. His eyes traced every curve and detail, lingering as if memorizing you all over again. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, the words tinged with awe before he leaned down to place slow, deliberate kisses along your ribs.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips, a sound of your clear frustration as his seemingly endless patience began to test your resolve. He chuckled softly against your hip, the vibration of it sending a wave of heat through you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, your voice teetering on a plea, your fingers threading through his hair to tug gently.

His lips paused their trail, his gaze lifting to meet yours, mischief and adoration mingling in his dark eyes. “What is it, love?”

“Stop teasing,” you demanded, your tone shaky but resolute. “I swear to god-” but before you could finish your threat, Namjoon’s fingers swipe across your pussy, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Holy fucking shit.” Namjoon breathed, the disbelief in his voice almost comical as his wide eyes flickered from your face to your cunt. “You’re dripping wet.” His fingers parted your lips, pulling them apart so he could see better. “Is the idea of me knocking you up turning you on this much?” His other hand joined in, both of them exploring your wetness, spreading it around. “Fuck.” He muttered, his fingers positioning at your entrance, sliding in and out of you easily.

You couldn't help but moan, your back arching as you pressed yourself into his touch. “Namjoon,” you sob, your voice filled with longing. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I will. I will,” he mumbles, moving lower to settle between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart, “After I get a taste.” He tacks on, quite proud of himself.

You couldn’t help but huff in frustration and desire as you felt his breath against your slick folds, ready to complain. But before you could get the words out, Namjoon quickly shuts you up, his mouth on you.

“Be good.” He warns, his tone firm but gentle, voice muffled against your pussy. As the words left his lips, his tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance all the way to your clit and then back down, causing you to shiver in pleasure. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open for him as he explored every inch of you, his fingers moving in tandem with his lips.

“Joon,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to control the rhythm, your hips trashing against his face. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through you, but his patience never wavered, even as your breaths became shorter and your whimpers turned into moans.

He slurped loudly, pressing his face in hard as he moved his lips and tongue expertly. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and moaning, the movement completely involuntary to you. His head moved around as he devoured you like a starving man, moaning to himself as he worked, his tongue lapping at your wetness, before coming back up to your clit and sucking hard, driving you crazy with the way his fingers moved and arched against your sweet spot.

“Namjoon!” Your eyes closed and you bit your lip, trying to muffle your moans, feeling the way his tongue swirled around your opening and licked up your wetness like he was savouring every drop of you.

He was worshipping you, consuming you like he’d been starving for you, growling whenever you pulled his hair too hard or moaned for him in a way he liked. Your back arched and you let yourself close your eyes, unable to stop yourself as your loud moans turned into gibberish, raising in pitch as he brought you right up to the edge.

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips bucking, thighs trembling and stomach clenched. You felt like you were about to explode, but he didn’t let up, not until you were unravelling against his touch. Your orgasm was so sudden, so violent and unexpected that you didn’t even get a chance to warn him, wave after wave of staggering pleasure washing over you, rendering you an absolute useless mess in his grasp.

Namjoon didn't miss a beat, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came hard around him. Your muscles quivered and pulsed, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through you and adding to the intense pleasure crashing through your veins. And he didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your body, his fingers pushing your release in his mouth.

As you slowly came down from your high, Namjoon gently kissed your inner thighs, his lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin. You could feel his proud smile against you, and you couldn't even find the energy to glare at him.

It wasn't until your breaths evened out and your body went limp that you finally managed to push him away, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when he looked up at you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked, his voice twinged with amusement, although a little breathless.

You couldn't be bothered to reply, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you managed a small, satisfied smile, your eyes closed in contentment.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against your hip. At that you chuckled, the sound light and airless, the remnants of pleasure still humming through your body like an electric current.

Namjoon began a slow ascend, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he went, each one making your breath hitch just a little more. When he finally reached your lips, his gaze was heavy with intent. He kissed you deeply, and the moment you tasted yourself on his tongue, a wave of heat crashed over you.

Your lips parted instinctively, drawing his tongue deeper as you sucked on it, the sensation unravelling something primal in your mind. A soft, desperate moan escaped against his mouth, your hands fisting into his hair as you clung to him, utterly consumed by him, by his mouth, by his hands against your hips. By Namjoon. Your husband.

“Ready for me to fuck you now, my love?” he asked, his voice low, a whisper against your lips, but one that sent a new wave of wetness to your core.

You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so your let your hand drop to hips and pull him closer, eager for him to take you.

You could feel his hard cock press against your entrance, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to glance down and watch as he positioned himself at your opening. A low moan falling from your lips as you waited for him to thrust inside you.

But instead, Namjoon teases you further, swiping his cock against your wet folds, driving you wild.

“C’mon love, don’t leave me hanging. Say something.” He chuckles, watching your expression carefully as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, circling it.

That completely makes you snap, a flurry of uncoherent begging and threatening falling from your lips, filling the little space between your heavy breathing and his low chuckles.

“Please, please, please Namjoonie. Fuck me. Get me pregnant. God! Move! You always do this,” your head falls back against the pillow, tears prickling at the inside of your eyes, your fingernails digging in his skin. “Knock me up, please. Just fuck me. I’ll delete your homework gradings if you don’t.”

He bets you have almost no idea what you were spewing, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Not when his heart swelled with love and desire at your words. He couldn’t resist you any longer. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you just for a second longer, before he finally pushes inside, agonizingly slow.

You gasp, your body trembling in his arms, feeling him fill you all the way to the brim. The feeling of him bare inside you, the warmth and the intimacy of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. You feel every movement and every thrust as if it's the first time all over again. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you can't help but let out a series of weak, trembling moans every time he moves inside you.

“Holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking good.” Namjoon whimpered, his hips slapping against you, pulling almost all the way out before filling you up again, “Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel every inch of you, gripping me, love.”

The sound of your skin slapping fills the bedroom with his steady thrusts, punctuated by the occasional slap of his balls against your ass. You gasp, your orgasm building deep inside you. You can feel it coiling in your belly, ready to explode at any moment.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his.

“Shit love, look at that.” Namjoon presses a hand hard against your lower stomach, “Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “Can you feel how deep I'm inside you, how close I am to filling you up?”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand press against your stomach. His cock, so deep and snug in you that you can feel the bulge faintly against your abdomen as he moved.

You nodded frantically, your eyes wide as you felt him pulse inside you. The thought of him coming inside you, of him potentially getting you pregnant, only served to heighten your pleasure. You were so close, so unbearably close to the edge, and with each thrust, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the brink.

“Yes, yes, I can feel it,” you gasped, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Please, Namjoon, please fill me up. I want to feel you cum inside me, fill me up, I want to carry your baby.”

Namjoon's thrusts grew more desperate, spurred on by your pleas, more urgent as he chased his release, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t think possible.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don't stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop!”

But of course, ever the contrarian, Namjoon pulls out, making you scream in frustration. An elongated, miserable “Nooo,” falling from your lips, your body going limp, “God! Namjoon! I swear-” but he ignores you, flipping you over on your stomach.

You still angle your hips up in invitation, although angrily, your body trembling with anticipation and frustration. You’ve known your husband long enough to know how he liked to play, and how to play his games. You plant your knees on the mattress, lifting your ass higher in the air as your chest falls against the pillows, slowly swaying your hips for him.

Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Watching you offer yourself to him so willingly, so eagerly. He can’t resist your lure much longer. He positions himself behind you, his fingers tracing a path down your spine before grasping your hips firmly. You feel the head of his cock against your entrance once more, and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips, as again, he swipes it against your clit before sinking into you.

This new position allows him to reach deeper somehow, and you can feel him hitting your sweet spot with every movement. Your fingers clench the sheets as he starts to thrust harder, his hips meeting your ass with a satisfying slap, and you push back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, your pleasure mounting right back up, bringing you closer to the edge.

Sweat starts to collect at your hairline, your breath hitching with each of his powerful thrusts.

“That's it, love. Take all of me,” Namjoon growls, his lips finding your neck as he continues to fuck into you. His hand snakes around to find your clit, and he starts rubbing slow circles around it, making your knees buckle under your own weight.

Your body trembles as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode at any moment, with any one of his thrusts that hits right against your g-spot.

“Namjoon, I'm so close,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

“I know, love. I can feel it. Let go, let me feel you come undone for me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with need, his fingers flicking your clit softly, completely stealing the breath from your lungs. “Let me feel you clench around my cock baby.”

His words are your undoing. You cry out, dissolving into pleasure, everything around you cutting to white noise. Your elbows give way, and you collapse onto the mattress, completely boneless as he coaxes wave after wave of bliss from your trembling body.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you up for him as his thrusts grow more erratic, dragging out your orgasm and making you clench so hard against him that his movements stutters. You felt utterly weightless, as though your body had melted into the sheets, as if you had no strength left to hold yourself together.

“I’m so close,” Namjoon moaned your name, his sounds growing lounder and more uninhibited, as he relentlessly chased his own climax.

“Cum inside me,” you beg, egging him on. “Fill me up with your seed. Make a baby with me.”

His movements falter, his most base instincts taking over, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases. Filling you up with his hot, sticky cum, you can feel it, coating your insides and leaking out. You clench around him, another orgasm, less intense but just as blissful as the first one washes over you.

The feeling of him coming inside you, the warmth and the intensity of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel your heart racing, your entire body trembling with the aftershock. You can feel him still inside you, pulsing to the rhythm of his own release, and the sensation of it is just overwhelming.

“Fuck, love,” Namjoon whispers, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. “That was...incredible.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breathing still heavy and uneven. You can feel him softening inside you, but you don't want him to pull out. You want to stay like this forever, connected in the most intimate way possible, his full body weight on you.

But eventually, he does pull out, rolling onto his back beside you and you snuggle up against him, your head resting on his chest as you catch your breath. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, broken only by your breathing, a soft, tired chuckle escaped your lips. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You have a breeding kink.” You state with a sly grin, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Namjoon huffs, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he mutters, “Maybe.”

“Good,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Means you’ll enjoy these next few months.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair as his gaze locks onto you, full of equal parts amusement and surrender.

“Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #glitter glue i love you

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necessiteez · 9 months ago

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HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

all pairings are hongjoong x reader only.

further info is already stated in the main Library.

✶ - favorites

╔═ second♕floor ═╗

「 ✦ Pirate!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Let Me Take You Away - @ithinkilikeit-reactions (wc 3.7k)

✶ Pirate King: Kim Hongjoong - @cookycherry (wc 4.5k)

Sea Superstitions - ithikilikeit-reactions (wc 8 .8k)

My Lady - @seongsangssbitch

Lost at Sea - @acupoftaewithsomesuga (wc 6.9k)

Pirate Joong - @hyetiny

Pirate King - @cybrsan (wc 7.6k)

A Selfish Desire - @hwashotcheeto (wc 4k)

🆕✨ Shiny New Toy - kitten4sannie (wc 2.1k)

「 ✦ Best Friend!Hongjoong ✦ 」

friends to lovers trope

✶ Tell Me to Stop - @tenelkadjowrites (wc 4.4k)

Acorns - sa_honey on ao3 (wc 4.3k)

Marigold - @yoongiseesawmp3 (wc 12k)

✶ The Best Friends Code trilogy feat. Seonghwa - tenelkadjowrites

Heavy on Your Tongue - @swallowedbymadness (wc 4k)

We Ransacked the City series, multi-chapter feat. Seonghwa - tenelkadjowrites

🆕✨ Between Friends - anyamaris (wc 3.4k)

「 ✦ Academic!Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes College Student! Hongjoong, Professor! Hongjoong, school setting

Fire & Flames - bustdownyunho on ao3 (wc 5.8k)

✶ Motivate Me - @hwaightme (wc 10.2k)

Hideaway - @minisugakoobies (wc 7k)

Teacher Seonghwa + Student Hongjoong male reader - @star-suh

Study Buddies - halflinghoney on a03 (wc 2.4k)

✶ Can't Stand You - @domjaehyun (wc 3.7k)

✶ Training Wheels - @luvt0kki (wc 10.7k)

Rule #4 - @k-hotchoisan (wc 6k)

King's Play - @atzfilm (wc 4k)

A Special Kind of Heat Delivery - artof-seonghwa (wc 2.4k)

「 ✦ Idol!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Good Girls Don't ONGOING - halanote on ao3 (wc 22k)

Work Life Balance - evphoria87 (wc 1.6k)

Drunk in Love - barnesbabee

✶ All Yours - forhongjoong (wc 4k) HAS GOT TO BE THE OLDEST WELL-WRITTEN SMUT I KNOW SO THIS ONE IS SPECIAL

In the Wings feat. Seonghwa - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

A Night In implied poly - @written-in-flowers (wc 3k)

✶ 2 Soon part 1 - @03jyh23 (wc 12.8k)

✶ 2 Soon part 2 - 03jyh23 (wc 11.5k)

✶ Man-Spreading - barnesbabee

🆕✨ Bouncy - flurrys-creativity (wc 1.8k)

🆕✨ [11:07] Secrecy - hanatiny (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Roommate!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Movie Night - @severetimetravelnerd (wc 2k)

✶ Deal - @hongism (wc 10.3k)

Declaration - tenelkadjowrites (wc 9k)

✶ Don't You Want Me? - @yeonjuns-beanie (wc 7.4k)

Ass So Fat, Hit that From the Back gen reader, only Hongjoong is turned on - orphan account/abandoned (wc 2.9k)

Exhibition and Voyeurism feat. Seonghwa - hobi-is-golden on ao3 (wc 3.6k)

🆕✨✶ Got a Thing for You - ilwonuu

「 ✦ Mafia/Gangster!Hongjoong ✦ 」

All I Need - @cocobeanncteez

Princess feat. San- @teeztheflag (wc 4.6k)

For Your Entertainment - @atiny-piratequeen (wc 4.3k)

5:31pm - @mingishoe

✶ A Rose is A Rose feat. Seonghwa - @daddyfordaeddy (wc 3.5k)

Guns and Roses - @baekhvuns (wc 5.4k)

✶ Cheating w Gangster!Seongjoong feat. Seonghwa - @thelargefrye (wc 2.6k)

✶ On the Rocks feat. Seonghwa- @kitten4sannie (wc 2.7k)

Backfired part 2 - ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 5k)

🆕✨ Unbroken - hanatiny (wc 7k)

「 ✦ Hongjoong Working Different Jobs ✦ 」

includes photographer!Hongjoong, barista!Hongjoong, writer!Hongjoong, doctor!Hongjoong

* photographer!Hongjoong

Picture Perfect - @ikigaitsuki (wc 6k)

Something to Say - themoonlightfae on ao3 (wc 5.9k)

His Muse - firepoppyqueen on ao3 (wc 1.4k)

* writer!Hongjoong

✶ Mr. Write series, multi-chapter, writer!Hongjoong - @1117feverlessdreams

* cafe owner/barista Hongjoong

Iced Coffee barista!Hongjoong- xoexoxhoe

FFF Day 14 feat. San - sanjoongie (wc 2.6k)

「 ✦ Hongjoong in fantasy/historical/mythical setting ✦ 」

Rendezvous with Destiny royal advisor!Hongjoong - alxdelusional (wc 6k)

Do You Believe in Fate? Hongjoong with magic, multi-chapter - @lettersfromaphrodite (wc 42k)

Starseed: Perfect Love male reader, King!Hongjoong - thelargefrye (wc 3.7k)

His Majesty's Responsibilities King!Hongjoong - @xirenex (wc 8k)

✶ Forbidden Fruit Hades!Hongjoong - nateezfics (wc 2k)

Day 19 Bard!Hongjoong feat. Knight!Seonghwa- @multiwreckedmess (wc 6.3k)

The Spoils of War, Chapter 2: Hongjoong the Queenmaker multi-member, King!Hongjoong - fullspectrumfangirl, stitchdragon on ao3

Die for You royal guard!Hongjoong - @beginningofwonderland (wc 7.4k)

I'd Rather Burn nobleman!Hongjoong - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 6.2k)

✨🆕 ✶ New World mad prince!Hongjoong, HEAVY ANGST - @sorryimananti-romantic (wc 27k)

「 ✦ Hongjoong in the Fashion Industry ✦ 」

includes Fashion Designer! Hongjoong, Model! Hongjoong, Fashion Company CEO! Hongjoong

✶ The Met and the Aftermath - @angiesmagicspace (wc 5.7k)

✶ Perfect Little Pet Cruella! Hongjoong @armysantiny (wc 5.9k)

✶ Business Attire - @nebulousbrainsoup (wc 4.5k)

Perfect Design - @sector-i-closed

Be My Muse - sanjoongie (wc 1.2k)

Untitled - @cherrysoojins

The Model - @doritochoi (wc 1.7k)

✶ High End - @songmingisthighs (wc 2k)

Mistletoe feat. Seonghwa - justthere4kpop (wc 2.4k)

「 ✦ Something's Wrong with Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes Villain!Hongjoong, Evil!Hongjoong, Perv!Hongjoong, Yandere! Hongjoong and dubcon themes. ⚠️ I don't support non-con fanfics

An Eye For All Things Sweet - @sugarcherriess

Textbook perv!Hongjoong - @ateezinmymind

Crimes of Passion: Gotham au Intro - @thetypingpup (wc 5.4k)

* Yandere

Desire - @lovesanmotion

Indulgence - @mint-yooxgi (wc 2k)

The Villain part 1 - @yourfatherlucifer (wc 1k)

The Villain part 2 - yourfatherlucifer (wc 1k)

˖ ��⭑last updated 06/05/24 ˖ ࣪⭑

#fic recs #ateez fic recs #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez au #ateez imagines #hongjoong imagines

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tswiftupdatess · 2 months ago

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Taylor Swift talking about working on The Eras Tour, re-recording, performing with a broken heart and the joy and safety the Tour brings to fans at The Eras Tour Book:

“I'll never forget the call when I explained my idea of the concept for The Eras Tour to my team. At the time, I was working on the Midnights album and if we were to do what I've always done, I would've embarked on planning The Midnights Tour. But there's nothing I hate more than doing what I've always done.

“We're going to call it The Eras Tour and each album will have its own chapter, it's own world.” I told them that I want to fully commit to each era, musically, stylistically and aesthetically. They should feel like time capsules. If we do this right, I said, we can celebrate and honor both new fans and fans who have been here from day one.

It had been 6 years sice I'd toured. In those 6 years, a lot had transpired for me creatively. I release Lover, folklore, evermore, and eventually Midnights. In another real of my priorities was my passion project: re-recording my first 6 albums that were sold away from me by my former record label. Reclaiming my past made me fall back in love with it. Revisiting that past work made me want to honor it and honor what the fans had done for me with the Taylor's Version albums. And so the new albums and my re-records left me with the dilemma: HOW on Earth are we going to play all of this music live? I decided to create the longest, most ambitious show I'd ever even attempted. Averaging at 3 hours and 15 minutes, with 45 songs played. My goal was for every fan to leave that show knowing I gave them absolutely everything I had. I made a promise to myself to be physically and mentally tougher than I ever had been before. To be more disciplined and commited to my health, fitness, and stamina. Thankfully, I'm surrounded by my incredible crew, band, singers, and dancers who all matched my dedication to the massive scale and challenges of this show. We would go on to play this show in the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest humidity, in the wildest winds, and in the bitter cold. We would do it if we were sick or exhausted or injured. We would do it with a broken heart. We do this because we love having the rare opportunity to create happiness and wonder up on that stage. We do it because we know it takes time and effort and money and energy to plan out coming to a concert. We do it because every friendship bracelet traded has the potential to become a new friend, and you never know what dreams can be sparked if we succeed in painting a dreamscape in every city we visit. We do it because people need an escape from how brutal life can be, and it is the honor of a lifetime to be that for them, if only for a night. And although we are all on our own in this big scary life, somehow it doesn't feel that way when we're singing the same words as 80,000 other people wearing glittery face paint. We do it because life comes in waves, in phases, in brilliant flurries of magical moments, and all of these things come together to create…Eras.

Here is the official retrospective of the most wondrouds tour of my life, my beloved Eras Tour.

See you next era..”

(November 29, 2024)

#taylor swift #the eras tour book #the eras tour #november 29 #taylorswift #swifties #taylor nation

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

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more words for worldbuilding (pt. 2)

ANIMALS

Animal: adult, beast, buck, cat, chicken, cur, father, frog, goat, half-breed, horse, hybrid, litter, mongrel, monster, parasite, pig, stock, young

Bird: bird, chicken

Fish: aquarium, aquatic

Group of animals: drove, herd, insect, pack, stock, team

Insect: bee, grub, pest

Limb or appendage of: bill, coat, feather, fur, mop, pelt, scale, trunk, wing

Mammal: cat, dog, father, goat, hound, mother, pig

CLOTHING

Accessory: bag, belt, buckle, collar, pocketbook, purse, satchel

Clothing: apparel, array, bathing suit, cape, clothes/clothing, costume, dress, dungarees, falsies, frock, garment, girdle, gown, hat, jacket, negligee, nylons, pajamas, pants, quilt, scarf, skirt, suit, swimsuit, thing/things, trappings, underwear, veil, wash, wrap

Part: collar, crown, pocket, strand, tiara

State of dress: bareness, nudity, try on/try out, wear

FOOD & DRINK

Beverage: alcohol, coffee, drink, potable

Beverage, alcoholic: beer, liquor

Change in: curdle, turn

Food: appetizer, bite, brew, bun, casserole, condiment, cracker, diet, doughnut, feed, frosting, grub, helping, hors d’oeuvre, leftover, macaroni, meat, nosh, nurture, nutrition, pastry, produce, refreshment, seasoning, stew, subsistence, support, sweet, treat, vittles

Food part: morsel, nip, taste, tidbit

Meal: banquet, bite, buffet, diet, fare, picnic, repast, spread, table

Produced from animal: comfort food, feed, food, frosting, grub, hero, macaroni, sandwich, submarine, vittles

Produced from plant: condiment, doughnut, loaf, pastry, produce, sweet

Quality of: acerbity, baked, done, edible, mellow, nourishing, perishable, rare, ripe, salty, short, stale, strong, sweet, unappetizing, weak, wholesome

NATURAL RESOURCES

Electricity: beam, spark

Energy: electricity, fuel, nuclear energy, petroleum, power

Expression of energy: blast, bonfire, chill, concussion, discharge, fire, flash, noise, thunder

Natural event: eclipse, meteorology, weather

Resources: fuel, resource, rock, substance

PLANTS

Flower: bloom, bouquet, flower

Fruit: berry, produce

Growth or death of: bloom, bud, germinate, growth, wilt, wither

Part: bark, branch, cereal, flavoring, foliage, grain, juice, limb, nut, pod, scion, shell, stalk, trunk

Plant: algae, bramble, bush, crop, fossil, grass, harvest, hybrid, organism, produce, wreath

Tree: timber, wood/woods

Vegetable: produce

WEATHER

Object connected with: avalanche, breeze, climate, cold, dew, film, flurry, frost, gust, haze, hurricane, meteorology, moisture, puff, thunder, weather, wind

Quality of: breezy, clear, close, crisp, dismal, fair, fiercely, fine, furious, gloomy, hazy, humid, intimidating, misty, oppressive, raw, rugged, soft, stormy, sultry, temperate, thick, tranquil, turbulent, wild, wintry

Type of: blizzard, cloud, drizzle, fog, hail, mist, puff, rain, shower, tempest, torrent, tremor

NOTE

Excerpted from Roget's 21st Century Thesaurus, Updated and Expanded 3rd Edition, in Dictionary Form, edited by The Princeton Language Institute.

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

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crescenthistory · 3 months ago

Note

hii 🫶🏻🫶🏻!

im not sure if you've written for james potter before, but if you're up for it, could i request d5 with him? i thought like, reader is a slytherin and she fooled around with barty while she was with james. also not sure if you're okay with writing cheating, (feel free to ignore this is you're not!)

hi lovie! thank you for your request<3 i don't vibe with cheating storylines, but this inspired me to write a one-shot of james pining for reader but thinking she's with barty because they're such close friends. i hope that still scratches your itch!

Prompt: D.5 "But do you love me?" changed into "But you are in love with me?"

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin!reader (sassy/feisty), use of y/n, james pov which includes relentless pining and silly comments, genuine yearning, miscommunication, bsf!barty, slight jealousy/envy, some self-deprecation, background skittles rosekiller and dorlene

The Boy with the Glasses is Blind

James could have kicked himself.

Despite what some professors insinuate, he is usually quite bright – he just so happens to prefer dedicating his intellect to good-willed humour and pranksting rather than gruelling essays that have already been written a thousand times before. He felt he had properly demonstrated his abilities for creativity and strategy with everything he had pulled off over the years, both the pranks he took credit for and the ones they were never able to pin on him.

Yet, here he was.

Sitting in the Transfiguration class shared by most Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year, where Professor McGonnagal in some horrific – in James' previous sentiments – attempt to bridge some gaps and mend some fences, seated a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together at every table. Sitting beside you, the one Slytherin he had never seemed to fully dislike nor target with his more insidious of pranks, but a Slytherin nonetheless, and attached at the hip with one Barty Crouch Junior.

Yes, here he was, sitting beside you and staring at you with what most look like cartoonish heart eyes.

It was not something he necessarily expected to happen, at least not to this extent. You had always held his interest, a fascinating person from who you were to how you spoke and where you placed yourself in society, but it was easily brushed off in the flurry of everything else that surrounded the young boy. In here, he couldn't escape you as easily, and once he realised just what he had been depriving himself of in his avoidance of you, he couldn't escape you even when you weren't around. To him, you were everywhere.

James Fleamont Potter was falling more head over heels in love with a Slytherin with every passing minute. Sirius would have kicked him blue and yellow had he dared open his mouth and voice what was running through his mind when he admired you. Though, James supposed, some of those thoughts were perhaps best never uttered out loud to anyone.

He really couldn't help himself, he thought, it was all your fault for being so sodding angelically flawless. From the first lesson when you playfully threatened him to "behave, Potter, and not soil my education with your unruliness" with that glimmer in your eyes that felt like it must have been reserved for him from a previous life, he has had to pick his jaw up from the floor whenever your eyes meet. The way you carried yourself with a lightheartedness and crackling self-assurance, the way your hair cascaded around you as you turned to him, the way your occasionally crude words towards him were softened by your exuberant tone, as if you took as much pleasure from your back-and-forth exchanges as he did, but with none of the guffawing – a stronger man would have faltered, and James had no qualms about admitting that for you, he was rather weak.

And then there was the way you grinned with your whole body whenever you spoke to your friends and your–

And therein lies the issue.

No gem can sparkle that brightly and not be picked up and admired. To anyone with eyes, let alone ears, it was painfully clear that one Barty Crouch Junior had already snatched up his Treasure, as he called you. James was too late.

The nickname felt tacky in James' mouth as he silently felt around it, trying to figure out what it would feel like to have you as he does. It felt too cheesy, not elegant enough for someone like you, not perfect enough, though James supposes nothing quite could be. Nor was he any better himself, angels and loves had already slipped from his tongue, only to be laughed away as a quip and not a confession – and he didn't even have the right to, not the way Junior did.

You were seated beside James, he could imagine himself feeling your body heat seeping through your clothes and into his if he inched even a centimetre or two closer to you. He could hear your laughter in his ears, he captured the smile in your eyes with his own as often as he could, but even here, within his direct vicinity, he saw the effect Barty had on you. How the two of you seemed to be able to communicate with limited words, mostly through glances and silly facial expressions from where he sat a few rows ahead, fully twisted in his chair to get a good look at you.

James couldn't blame him. It was how he wanted to turn around and stare at you whenever you were near him as well. That maniacal grin on Junior's lips was something James wanted to resent, but also wondered if he would be wearing himself, if he was allowed to brandish it on you.

Unlike Junior, though, he couldn't. James is not a jealous man, he felt he owed his father not to be, but there were few words to describe the sensation building in his throat other than envy. And, perhaps most painfully, a yearning so significant it ached its way through his bones until he was left pliable and broken.

"You with me, Potter?"

James' smile smacked right back onto his lips, albeit slightly more forced than normal as he forced his eyes away – from what he hoped seemed like Junior's general direction and not him specifically – to lock onto yours. There was a quizzical expression on your face and mirth playing over your lips, your soft, beautiful lips.

"Yeah," James made out hoarsely, clearing his throat. "Early mornin' s'all."

The mirth stretched out into a wide, teasing grin on your face, and although James was certain it was at his expense, it melted his own smile into a more genuine one. "Uh-huh. What's made you so tired? You're usually caffeine incarnated first thing in the morning."

"Are you saying you're missing my usual self, love?" Easy, easy, keep it easy.

"I'm saying you're suspicious," you replied with a gleam in your eyes. "Although, you always are. Perhaps it would be suspicious if you weren't behaving suspiciously."

James laughed a bit too loudly at that, warmth spreading in his stomach. "Don't go philosophical on me, L/N."

"I won't, if you don't go boring on me. Transfiguration's enough of a chore as it is."

Pride bloomed out of the spot envy inhabited in James' throat. Somehow he felt just as guilty for both of them, and was just as unable to suppress it as it flowed into his bloodstream.

"Well, when I know you're missin' me so, I can't very well let my best girl down, can I?"

"What a presumptuous young man," you say, words becoming a whisper as McGonnagal walks in to begin her lecture. Despite your smug smile as you said so, James couldn't help but feel slightly rattled at you pointing out the truth to him.

He righted himself in his seat and attempted to dedicate his attention to the Head of Gryffindor, which, unfortunately, he had never been good at even before his entire mind, body and soul seemed to be possessed by the stunner sitting beside him in class. His eyes kept darting over to you, smiling at your facial expressions, even more so when you occasionally caught his gaze with a smile of your own. A strand of hair fell out of your hairstyle as you cocked your head to look at him. James couldn't decide whether he wanted it to stay messy or if he wanted to be the one to tuck it back in for you. His hands remained drumming on the desk.

He attempted to focus up on the lecture, but poor Minnie's voice simply became droning to him when his nose was filled with the smell of you, making him slightly lightheaded. And Merlin, the way you were biting your lip while you took notes – it was an actual miracle he hadn’t melted into a puddle on the classroom floor by now.

Then, his attention was abruptly captured by a small piece of parchment whirring right past his face to force itself into your hand on the desk. You were shaking, smiling over the lip you were still biting as you opened it.

James – in a totally cool non-creepy fashion, of course – tried to get a good luck at the note, but couldn't without giving it away. What he definitely could tell, though, was how Junior was snickering at you over his shoulder like a hyena. Not the borderline scary snicker James had been victim of before, but a fond one, like you were sharing a secret together just the two of you.

Unable to watch more of your reaction, James looked back onto the desk, willing himself away.

You were never one to allow him reprieve, giving him a discreet poke with your wand. When he looked up, your head was in your hand and you were leaning your head sideways to look at him. “Daydreaming again, Potter?” you whispered.

His cheeks burned. “Not a chance,” he responded a bit too quickly, causing you to smile in delight as you leaned closer to him. His heart gave a particularly hard thud at that.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been staring at my notes for a few minutes, and last I checked, you don’t even take notes. So it's clearly no ruse to copy me.”

“I take notes!" James tried to retort, but when you levelled him with a stare he just smiled indulgently at you instead. "Occasionally."

"Yeah, you're a total swot, babe," you laughed quietly, shooting McGonnagal a quick glance to make sure you're still being discreet.

He knows you're messing with him, he knows it's just colloquialism, but he would have paid embarrassing amounts for you to call him that again.

"Very well might be, you're quite contagious, angel." The slight snort that escaped you at that probably made his day.

“Uh-huh,” you said softly, for the second time that lesson. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor.”

By the grace of Godric, McGonagall dismissed class before James combusted like he thought he would. He exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as his nerves shot up as you began to pack your stuff, knowing he won't see you again until dinner. Not that he had memorised your schedule, or anything.

He opened his mouth, hoping to think of something clever and smooth to keep your attention for even a second longer, when your usual company approached your shared desk. He heard Junior's laugh before he saw him, eyes still trained on you, and when he turned Barty, Dorcas and Evan had formed some circle around you, chattering away with a casualness he rarely witnessed up close.

“Tomorrow’s going to be incredible,” Dorcas exclaimed almost-giddily, pulling her scarf up around her neck. “I can't wait to let off some steam finally."

“Oh, I'm sure you will, Cas,” you replied teasingly, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "Asked a certain blonde to join you yet?"

"How about you mind your business, Missy?" She shot back trying to shove your face away, but you dodged, using James' arm as a shield. He felt like a mannequin the way he stood beside you, almost dumbly, frozen by the exchange.

Evan just snickered. “Good luck prying Barty away from the game section, he's still pissy about last time."

"You mean when he gambled away all–" Dorcas was shut up with a quick silencio from Barty, which she quickly fought through and stuck her tongue out at him for.

"Hearsay and goss, I tell you!" Barty declared, shoving Evan aside to come stand beside you, arm circling around your waist. "I almost didn't go this year, I'm only joining because Treasure here practically threatened me to."

"Yeah, how dare you even consider leaving me to the wolves," you retorted to him at the same time as Dorcas murmurs something about "yeah, didn't wanna go because you lost so bad".

"Nah, we can't have that," Barty agreed with you while shooting Dorcas a glare, and then he – to James' utter pain and heartbreak – pressed a kiss to the top of your head while squeezing your hip.

Nevermind that it was a quick kiss, nevermind that you laughed at him. James just saw lips against skin.

Now that Junior was basically cuddling you standing up (James wanted no corrections calling this description an exaggeration), James had gravitated further away from you. He may have lost his mind with this whole lovesickness, but he respected you, your choices and your space. With the way you were throwing your head back laughing with your friends about some plans James didn't even know about, he knew he was not wanted nor needed here.

Pulling his bag closer towards his body, he gave a quick nod to no one in particular and turned around, headed towards the door.

"James, wait up!"

Your voice cut through his mind's ramblings, as it always does, and your use of his first name brought flowers to his vision once more. He turned around, hoping to look mostly casual but he's sure his face was an open book. His eyes zeroed in on you walking towards him, leaving your group of friends and Junior behind, but he heard a telltale laughter and he hoped it wasn't at how stupidly in love he looked with someone he could never have.

James blinked at you in confusion as you stopped before him, but you just wore the simplest smile on your face.

“Want to take a walk with me?” you asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

There was mirth in your gaze when you repeated your question. "We both have a free period now, I usually spend it in our common room. But I'm asking if you want to take a walk with me instead?"

James had to physically restrain himself from replying "I know" when you disclosed your habit, while also wondering how and why you came to know his schedule.

He managed to sputter out a response. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He couldn’t quite stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he felt a bit like an overeager puppy, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked rather pleased, which only made his heart race faster.

"Enthusiasm gets you everywhere, Potter," you responded calmly, falling into step with him as you led him out of the classroom, leading him down the less-frequented hallways. The road less travelled by.

The two of you strolled down the corridor, side by side, with the chilly autumn breeze filtering through an open window. James wanted to say something witty, something that would make you laugh, but he was mostly in his head, confused about everything that transpired the past few minutes.

"What's that about the fair?" He decided that was safe territory, though he feared having you recount all your plans with Junior there.

"Oh, you have no idea," you started excitedly. James pretended it didn’t cut a bit that he had no idea. "It's this annual fair that Pandora – you know, Rosier – discovered back in fourth. It's got the weirdest, coolest booths and games you'll ever see, with performances from unique professionals. It usually changes every year, last time it was a fire manipulator and a necromancer."

Upon James' quirked brow at you finding fire and necromancy the coolest, you continued. "Come on, you Marauders would have loved it. There's prank ideas and props to last you for months. And there's great food as well."

"Okay, okay," James laughed as he maintained eye contact with you. "I believe you, sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy it."

If James wasn't as bright as he was, he might have mistook the flash of emotion across your face as a small bout of uncertainty or insecurity.

"Actually, that's something I wanted to ask you about," you started, trailing off as you stopped by one of the larger windows in the hallway, leaning against the windowsill. He followed your example, attention wholly on you. "We have this tradition, my friends and I, that we use the fair as an opportunity to challenge ourselves in some way, do something that... I guess something that scares us."

James just nodded, keeping his attention on you as his heart beats in his chest. Your smile turned a bit rueful.

"That's actually what I was messing with Cas about earlier," you continued. "She's finally asking your friend Marlene out on a date, to go with her to the fair."

That's what you wanted to talk about? James admired you almost more for how dedicated you were to your friends.

"I can tell you without a doubt that Marls would say yes," he reassured you with a smile. "Those two have been a work in progress for ages."

"For so long, it's been physically painful to witness," you laughed. That sound is anything but painful to witness.

James hummed in response, laughter rumbling through his chest as he continued to take you in, scanning your face.

"What are you doing that scares you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

You took a deep breath, chin up in that almost defiant way as you held his gaze. "I'm actually following in Dorcas' footsteps... or I guess perhaps beating her to it, seeing as she hasn't yet."

James blinked at you, clueless as to what you're leading up to.

"I wondered if you wanted to go with me to the fair?"

He felt as if he had been slapped in the face and like he was coming up for air after a long snog. He didn't really know what he felt, just that it was a lot, too much, even for him.

"I'd love to," he blurted out with a breath, words scrambling together. Then, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to understand your sentence. "I mean– with me, are you sure? Aren't you going with, erm, with Junior?"

You gave him a puzzled look, cocking your head at him as if he had said something entirely irrelevant. "What do you mean?"

James looked sheepish and couldn’t quite meet your gaze over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I mean, it would be really nice to go with you to the fair, anywhere really, but wouldn't Junior mind?"

"Barty–" You cut yourself off, still looking confused. "Barty's the one who's been encouraging me to ask you out, actually. What are you on about?"

"Why?" was all James could breathe out, world unravelling in a way that made his stomach twist with painful hope.

"Um, because I like you? And unless I have suddenly lost all my interpretation skills, I am quite certain you've been fond of me for quite some time too, Potter."

"I am, but– wait– you are? What?" James guffawed. His intense confusion irritated his skin apparently because he had a sudden urge to scratch the back of his neck, his upper arms and pretty much any other piece of flesh. Maybe the embarrassment could be peeled off that way.

Despite it all, you laughed heartily and, what James was beginning to realise, bemusedly maybe even adoringly at his failure to speak. It seemed like you had pieced together everything he couldn't.

"Yeah, I like you, you sod. Think I just flirt with everyone?"

An "I hope not" lies on the tip of his tongue, but instead he shook his head in admonishment.

"Snake's got your tongue, babe?" you asked him, taking a taunting step closer.

"Looks like it," James mumbled, eyes zeroed in on your face as heat rose to his own. Growing bolder in your declaration, he continued, "I suppose I'm just confused. I always thought you were with Junior? That you two were... in love."

The last words brought a grimace to his lips, like it pained him to say. As if on instinct, your hand shot forward to wipe beneath his bottom lip to coax the frown off his face. His lips parted in shock and suspense at your touch and when you seemed to realise what you had done, you pulled your hand back quickly. You had the decency to look slightly flustered after that, allowing him some semblance of a more even playing field.

"No, James," you whispered with a smile as you shook your head. "Barty is my best friend and I love him with my whole heart. But I never have, and never will be in love with him. Him and Evan have been an item for, like, ages."

Finally, a brilliant smile – one you would later describe to him "shone like the sun" to which he attacked you with kisses because "that's so sodding cute of you to say, you sappy romantic" – took over his face.

Without thinking, he stepped closer to you, hand coming up to brush carefully against your cheek as you looked wide-eyed at his positivity and adoration now radiating off of him. "But you're in love with me?" he whispered with rapture, up to speed at last.

It took you a moment before you chuckled lightly, sheepishly looking down at your feet before once more meeting his piercing gaze.

"How about we start with that date, and see where it goes from there, huh pretty boy?"

So, yes, James most certainly could have and probably should have kicked himself – but right now, he found that he had other business he would much rather attend to.

747 notes · View notes

bunnliix · 3 months ago

Text

Pay Attention to Me

Pervert!teez: a collaboration within pirateeznet featuring:

Hongjoong written by @potatomountain | Yunho written by @skteezcursed | Yeosang written by @desirehorizon

San written by @flurrys-creativity | Mingi written by @mingsolo | Wooyoung written by @daddyfordaeddy | Jongho written by @sanjoongie

Pairing: Camboy!Seonghwa x reader Summary: You're roommates with Seonghwa, and he's been trying to get your attention for a while now, maybe you'll finally pay attention to him after what he's done. wc: 4.8k AU: college and camboy!Hwa Genre: Smut MDNI warnings: Fem!reader, perv!Seonghwa, livestreaming on sex sites, masturbation, panty stealing, reader being upset cause life is stupid and frustrating, reader bursting in on Hwa's livestream, yelling, teasing, edging, vaginal penetration, reader and Seonghwa being switches, listening in on someone getting off, pet names (baby, doll), unprotected sex (use a condom y'all), biting, hickeys, nipple play, handjobs, kinda praise kink, some light degradation, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionist fantasies, I think that's it, please tell me if I missed anything!

You got home after a long day at university, your classes kicking your ass as always, flopping down face first on your bed. Thankfully, the apartment was quiet, your roommate Seonghwa nowhere to be seen nor heard. Whatever he did in his room, it seemed to only happen at night, which between that and the sounds that sometimes traveled between the thin walls that separate your bedrooms gave you enough clues as to how he earned money. There were times that his job made it hard for you to focus on studying late at night, and you swore that he was loud on purpose sometimes.

You never really minded having Seonghwa as your roommate, it’s not like he was an asshole or anything like that. Honestly, he was the best roommate you had had over the years, as he paid you his half of the bills on time, and left you alone when you needed alone time, and it didn’t hurt that he was attractive.

He usually went out of his way to bring you things throughout the week, and unless you were neck deep in an assignment, you always thanked him. Like now, as your door opened to reveal Park Seonghwa in all his glory, looking like a fucking supermodel.

“I bought you some chocolate, it was on sale at the grocery store.” He said, walking into your room and dropping it next onto an empty spot on your desk.

You looked up at him, “Thank you Seonghwa.”

“You can call me Hwa, y’know,” he reminded you, smirking down at you.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” you said, both of you knowing full well you wouldn’t remember. Whether on purpose or not, was up for debate.

He moved to lay on your bed as you watched him walk over. Your eyes locked on him as he stretched, arching his back in the process before he relaxed fully, smirking when his eyes met yours. You looked away quickly, focusing back on your work.

Seonghwa just lays there silently looking at you while you work, waiting to see if you’ll give him and look at him. If you’ll give in and pay attention to him. Like he’s wanted you to do for the last year.

You had noticed Seonghwa, but you never acted on it. First, you were too busy with school, and second, you didn’t want to ruin the dynamic you two had currently. You enjoyed that you both worked well as roommates, and honestly, good roommates weren’t a dime a dozen. Plus, he was really nice and friendly, when he wasn’t being a bit odd. But his oddities never outweighed the good that he brought to the table.

He continued to lay on your bed for at least a couple hours, you were too absorbed in your schoolwork to notice exactly when he left your room, but you felt something was off. However, you couldn’t say what exactly was off about your room, so you chalked it up to him just accidentally disturbing something while he had entered or left. You thought nothing of it as you left your room to get a quick snack before heading to bed. You did have an exam in one of your classes tomorrow morning, and you needed all the rest you could get. And maybe you’d get to sleep before Seonghwa’s nighttime activities started up once again.

You stumbled into your apartment, completely drained yet also feeling ready to scream. Your day could not have gone worse, and you hoped that maybe you’d be fine now that you were finally back at home. Taking a deep breath as you slid off your shoes and headed towards your bedroom, you heard noise coming from Seonghwa’s bedroom. You felt your body tense up once again, hoping that you’d have the house to yourself since your roommate supposedly had class tonight, but you were wrong.

You tried your best to ignore the sounds coming through the walls, tried to ignore the moans, as you entered your room and found it decidedly messier than you left it. It looked like someone had rummaged through everything, but you had left it organized and clean when you left this morning.

In particular, you found that your dresser had been almost ransacked. The drawers had been opened and closed haphazardly and you knew that no one but Seonghwa had access to the apartment, so it had to be your roommate. You couldn’t believe that he would actually look through your drawers, and as you took a breath and tried to calm down as you fixed the drawers, you noticed that your laundry basket was included in the ransacking of your bedroom, and saw that the pair of underwear you had thrown in their this morning had disappeared. You couldn’t believe that your roommate would be such a fucking pervert, and all patience and calm left you as you stormed out of your room, first banging on his door before slamming Seonghwa’s door open.

As you slammed his door open and went to yell at him, you instead found him in his bed, one pair of your underwear held up to his face, while another was wrapped around his length. You saw his camera recording and the stream up on his monitor, meaning that he was live on whatever cam site he used. The pervert was using your clothes to get off in front of others, and you couldn’t believe the audacity. But, you quickly focused back on the matter at hand.

Seonghwa turned to look at you, as he continued to stroke himself, and as you two made eye contact, his eyes rolled back as he came into your underwear. His body tense as his orgasm washed over him while a stain appeared in the underwear wrapped around his dick.

You stood there shocked into silence as you watched him orgasm, unable to make any noise at all. You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed, and as much as you were furious, you weren’t sure what to do now. Except maybe burn both pairs of underwear that he had taken.

By the time you had returned to reality and managed to put together words to yell at him, you found that he had ended his livestream, and had returned back to laying on his bed, your underwear still in his possession.

“You’re a fucking pervert!” you yelled at him, finally able to say something, “You really went and stole my underwear to jerk off into for your perverted desires.”

“I did,” Seonghwa admitted, staring at you, “What about it?”

“What about it?! You’re a perverted bastard,” you shouted, “You rummaged through my room and used my clothes, covering them in your sperm!” You shivered in disgust at the reminder of what you witnessed.

“I’d say you’re the pervert here,” he countered, “You stood there and watched me cum into your underwear.”

“I-,” you stuttered, unable to think of a quick response to his words.

“Cat got your tongue?” He taunted you, raising an eyebrow at you.

“How can I be the pervert when you were the one using my underwear to get yourself off,” you replied back, turning to leave the room.

“Yet you watched, and I know you’ve heard me when I’ve been working. I bet you had some fantasies about me, but here you are calling me a pervert,” he said, and before you could leave the doorway, a hand gripped your wrist, stopping you.

“Park Seonghwa, let me go,” you said, trying to pull your arm out of his hold, to no avail.

“Hmm, no. I don’t want to,” he said, pulling you back into his chest, “You aren’t even curious as to why I took your underwear? Not even the slightest bit nosy?” His voice was like velvet as he whispered in your ear.

Your body stiffened as he held onto you, as his arms wrapped around your torso. You were curious, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning. You didn’t want to give in, though fucking hell it was tempting. Seonghwa was so tempting, but he was also a panty sniffing pervert and you were at war over what you would do next.

“You won’t even respond to me, doll?” Seonghwa asked you, his hold on you growing just the tiniest bit tighter.

You bit your lip to stop any noises that threatened to escape, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Seonghwa, whose chuckle made you shiver.

“Are you trying to keep your pretty whines from me?” He said, one of his hands coming up to cup your face, as his thumb pulled your bottom lip down while you whined at his actions, too flustered by his presence to stop yourself.

“There’s those pretty noises,” he mused, “I finally get to hear them without having to strain my ears to hear them through the wall.”

At his confession, you managed to find it in yourself to pull away from him, turning to face him. He had been listening to you pleasure yourself through your shared wall? God he really was a pervert. You had been fooled into thinking that he was sweet and nice and not someone who’d do these kinds of things.

“What the fuck?” You said, both to him and to yourself, “You really are a nasty fucking perv.”

“I’m a nasty fucking perv who wants you,” Seonghwa said, reaching out to pull you close once again, and you let him.

You were unable to stop yourself from thinking about how many times he had listened to you, and you know that he must have heard you call out his name at least once. You felt his hand come up to cup your cheek, as he tilted your head back so your eyes met his. This was when you realized just how close you were, his face only inches away.

“Hello doll,” He said, a smirk on his face, “Can I kiss you?”

You almost wanted to giggle, it felt so different from the Seonghwa only minutes prior, but you responded by closing the distance between the two of you, your lips connecting. It was gentle at first, neither of you pushing for more, and you felt yourself melting into your roommate’s arms. And that was when Seonghwa took control of the kiss, as his lips pressed hard against yours as you were almost gasping for air as he did so. You felt him smirk into the kiss, before his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and you allowed him to take more, feeling completely swept up in his actions, in Seonghwa himself.

You kept kissing him until he pulled away, and you found yourself almost out of breath as you stared up at him, while he smirked down at you. Your eyes were wide open and just starting to become the slightest bit glassy. You looked debauched and he loved it, he loved the way you looked at him, the way your clothes were just starting to look ruffled.

“Are you okay there doll?” He asked you, knowing full well that you were a bit lost for words, judging by your expression.

“Have you always kissed like that?” You asked him, catching him off guard, but he just chuckled and nodded, answering your question.

Instead of saying anything more, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, needing more from him, needing more of him. Your lips crashed together against him and it wasn’t long before Seonghwa once again took control of the kiss once again, as his hands wandered down your body and found your ass. You gasped into the kiss as he squeezed, your back arching and pushing you closer to him.

Seonghwa started walking you both back towards his bed as you kissed, sitting down and pulling you down onto his lap as your legs straddled it. You didn’t pull away from him despite the change in location, his lips having become addictive. It took Seonghwa pulling back for you to stop, and you whined as the kiss ended, desiring more.

“I don’t think I’m the pervert anymore, you’re even needier than I am, baby,” Seonghwa said, chuckling, “But I love seeing you like this. You’re so adorable like this, all needy for my kisses.”

You felt your cheeks flush and heat up, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. You had become needier for him, for his touch and kisses. You wanted more and as his hands squeezed your cheeks once again, you couldn’t do much more than whine and lightly grind down into his lap.

“Oh? Have I gotten you all riled up, darling?” Seonghwa said, already knowing the answer.

You hid your face in his chest, unable to respond, which only made Seonghwa smirk further, knowing he had succeeded in making you flustered. Well, more flustered than you had been prior. Your hands find purchase in his hair, lightly tugging on the strands. This prompts a moan from Seonghwa, as his eyes closed as you tugged on his hair once again.

“B-Baby,” he stuttered, “If you keep doing that, you won’t be leaving this bed for the rest of the day.”

You tugged at his hair one more time, harder than you had before, and his reaction is immediate. His head fell backwards as he groaned and ground up into you, before you suddenly found yourself looking up at him as he leaned over you as you laid on his bed.

His eyes were wide but filled with desire as he stared down at you. He spoke as his eyes connected with yours, “You asked for it now, baby. I hope you’re ready for the consequences.”

You didn’t have a moment to ponder what those consequences would be before his mouth was attached to your neck, sucking and biting on the skin. You felt him bite down hard enough to leave a hickey behind on your neck, right where you were the most sensitive. You moaned as he continued kissing your skin, before he pulled away so he could remove your top, leaving the top half of your body exposed. He sat up, laying on top of your hips as he stared down at you, taking in the sight of you on his bed.

“You’re so pretty, doll,” Seonghwa said, “I can’t wait to ruin you and make you even prettier.”

You looked up at him as he just continued to stare down at you, before you got impatient and reached for his arms, pulling him forward towards you. He almost fell right on top of you, quickly pulling his arms out of your hold to brace himself above you.

“Someone’s impatient, I see,” he mused, chuckling at your actions. You didn’t give him any response, frustrated with him taking his time now that you were topless. Your hands snaked their way into his hair once again, pulling on it and tilting his head back in the process.

Seonghwa was taken by surprise at your actions, and in a split-second decision where you decided to fuck it and take what you wanted from him, now that he had gotten you worked up, you pushed him off of you and onto his back next to you. You climbed into his lap, straddling his hips. As he stared up at you with a bit of shock in his eyes, you took advantage of his nearly naked state and left your own set of marks, starting at his neck and trailing down his collarbone to his chest. If he was going to play this game with you, you wouldn’t let him win easily. Or at all.

You looked up at him, finding his head tilted back as his eyes disappeared into his skull, and suddenly something snapped into place in you and you wanted to see him like this more. You wanted to get back at him for being such a pervert.

Your mouth wrapped around one of his nipples, softly sucking on it, your tongue swirling around the bud as the man squirmed underneath you, noises falling from his mouth as he was unable to stop them. This only spurred you on more, as your other hand came up to play and pinch his other nipple, while you bit down softly on the one you were teasing with your tongue.

“F-fucking hell doll,” Seonghwa panted, trying to catch his breath, “W-Where did this come from?” He asked, before groaning as you continued your actions.

You pulled away from his nipple, giving him a tiny break, “You took too long,” You said, like it was obvious.

Deciding to move on from torturing his nipples, you kissed and bit your way down his torso, as his hands found purchase in your hair, his grip not overly tight, but enough that it felt good, and pushed you to move further down his body. Once you reached his boxers, you looked up at him, seeing that he was watching you intently, though you could see that his eyes were dark with desire and need.

You only paused for a moment more before you moved to straddle his legs, as his hands moved away, so that you could remove his underwear. You hadn’t really paid attention to what his length looked like when you had barged in earlier, but now you realized that he was definitely larger than average. You were only pulled from your thoughts when Seonghwa chuckled, as you looked up at him.

“Does my size shock you baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, while you blushed and looked away from him.

“N-No,” you said, stuttering slightly.

He only laughed once again, finding your reaction adorable, and telling you as much. You pouted, but quickly found your composure again and wrapped a hand around Seonghwa’s cock, stroking it once as he groaned in response. You smirked at making him speechless with just one little action.

You continued stroking him from base to tip, changing up the speed ever so slightly to see what affects him the most. As you watched him slowly start to fall apart in front of you, you felt yourself start to become needy like you had been before. You ground your hips down onto his thighs as you stroked him, as Seonghwa started pleading with you, becoming overwhelmed as a result of everything going on, as well as the realization that he’d finally get to have you, that you were here and finally paying attention to him.

“Baby, please,” he pleaded, “I need more, need you.”

Whines were falling from his mouth as he continued to beg and plead, becoming more desperate as you purposefully slowed down the speed of your hand. You continued teasing him until you both couldn’t take it anymore. You were so aroused that you were constantly grinding down onto his thighs for stimulation, while Seonghwa’s eyes were filled with tears as he was reaching his limit.

You decided it was time to put him out of his misery, as well as some much needed release for yourself. You moved off of his legs, so you could pull off the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself entirely nude. You saw his eyes roam your body, and you felt the desire to ruin him as you took him in, his dick that was fully hard and straining, needing release, his pretty pink nipples hard and in need of more attention, and his expression. Oh, his expression was beautiful, his eyes filled with tears and looking at you, pleading for you to give him more pleasure, his bottom lip swollen and red from where he kept biting it, and his cheeks with a pretty blush across them, telling you just how affected he was by all of your actions.

You straddled his hips once again, bracing yourself against his abs as you lined yourself up with his cock. You slowly sunk down onto it, your eyes rolling back as you were filled with his length, the feeling better than any dildo or toy you had tried thus far. Both Seonghwa and you moaned as he bottomed out inside of you, the feeling intense for the two of you.

You adjusted to the feeling of him inside your hole, feeling more filled and satisfied than you could remember, and you wondered why it had taken so long for you to finally give in to your desires. Slowly, you rose back up, till only the tip of his length remained inside, before you sunk back down again.

You felt Seonghwa’s hands come up to rest on your hips, his grip tight but not tight enough to hurt you. His hands helped guide you as you rode him, as you braced yourself once again, with your hands on his abs. As you slowly bounced on his cock, watching the man underneath you losing himself in the pleasure, as you slowly felt that same lust consume you as well, as you leaned forward and connected your lips to his.

In between kisses, Seonghwa kept babbling about how good you feel around him, and how he’d imagined this moment, but this was so much better than he ever could have imagined. You giggled at him, finding him adorable but kissed him hard to shut him up, taking control of the kiss as you increased the pace, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. You swallowed any whines that escaped his mouth, before pulling away and pulling off of his length just before he was going to come.

“Why,” he whined at you, “Please please please, baby, let me cum please.”

Seonghwa kept pleading, but you only chuckled before lining yourself up and sinking back down on him at an excruciatingly slow pace. You wanted to hear him beg, it made you even hornier, as you looked down at him as he begged and pleaded with you while his large, pretty eyes filled with tears, and some had already made their way down his cheeks.

You reached down to cup his cheek as you started bouncing up and down on his length, smiling down at him. “You look so pretty like this, doll,” you said, placing emphasis on the pet name, as you saw his eyes roll back as the word rolled off your tongue.

You felt him thrust up into you, making you sink down fully on his cock and stop moving entirely. “Ah ah ah, no moving or I stop moving. Patience gets you much further than disobeying me,” you told him, feeling on a high as the combination of the feelings of lust and power push you to be bolder than you normally would be.

He immediately stilled, as a petulant whine left his mouth. You didn’t expect him to listen so well, but you wanted to see more of him like this. So obedient and a good boy for you. You rewarded him with starting to ride him once again, quickly setting a fast pace even as your thighs burned.

You felt yourself come closer to your own release as you rode him, squeezing and clenching down around his length as you slowly got closer to falling off that cliff into your own pleasure. You found yourself having to brace yourself even more against his torso as you chased your own orgasm, as Seonghwa whined and cried out as he was close to reaching his own.

You saw Seonghwa getting close, and in another power play, you dropped down once again, sitting fully on his dick. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he was prevented from coming for a second time. You got unbelievably more aroused as you watched him cry, as you brought your hand to your clit, your thumb rubbing circles as you felt your high get closer and closer. You saw Seonghwa’s eyes widen as he watched you get off while sitting on his length, his eyes glassy with lust as he sat so close to the edge of pleasure.

“Gonna get off on your cock,” you said to him, moaning as he babbled and begged you to let him come, enjoying how much power you had over him in that moment.

You added just a tiny bit more pressure to your clit, needing just a bit more to push you over that edge. You clenched down around Seonghwa’s length as the pleasure of your orgasm rushed over you, keeping yourself upright only by your hand on his torso, as your pussy tried to milk him for his seed.

As you rode out your high, you keened in pleasure as wave after wave washed over you. Your eyes had rolled back so you were unable to see Seonghwa watching you intently, memorizing what exactly you looked like lost in the throes of your orgasm. Though just as you came out of the haze you had been in, you found yourself on the bed as Seonghwa snapped.

“It’s my turn to take what I want, doll,” he growled, pushing your legs up over his shoulders, “You made me wait, and I can’t wait anymore.”

You tried to retort, but as he started a brutal pace, chasing his own high now, you were unable to speak, only whines and moans coming out of you. His hands on either side of your body, gripping the sheets in a death grip. The sounds of skin slapping against skin was the only noise in the room, besides the grunts and moans coming out of both of you, as you found another release rapidly approaching while Seonghwa let out strings of curses, telling you that he was close as well.

You knew your bottom and thighs would be bruised in the morning with the force behind his thrusts, but in the moment, it felt so fucking amazing, and you wanted more of it. You were so close to the edge, and you just needed the slightest bit of stimulation before you would tumble over that edge. Seonghwa picked up on it, angling to hit that sweet spot inside as his fingers rubbed circles into your clit, pushing you right over the edge within seconds of him doing so.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as your second orgasm washed over you, your body tensing as you felt Seonghwa hit his high as his hips stuttered before his sperm filled you up, the sensation of which prolonged your own high. You whined at the feeling of being filled as the pleasure hitting you over and over again felt like it lasted forever.

“Fuck, baby,” Seonghwa said, his voice a little hoarse, “Your little pussy is really trying to milk me.”

You looked up at him with glassy eyes, still being lost in the haze of how good he had made you feel. He cooed at you, a slight smile on his face as he saw how fucked out you were as a result of him. He winced slightly as he slipped out of your hole, his length feeling very sensitive. He watched as his seed leaked out of you, and if he hadn’t been edged by you, the sight of it would have made him hard once more. It was such a pretty sight for him, as he imagined you sitting in class as his come leaked into your panties, as you tried not to let anyone know about your before class activities.

He shook those thoughts away temporarily, intent on returning to them later, as he left you in his bed while he ran to get a warm towel and wipes to clean you, wanting to make sure you were taken care of properly. He was very gentle with you as he wiped you down and cleaned you up, making sure you were as thoroughly clean as he could while you still laid in bed. You watched him perform this aftercare and smiled gently at him when he returned to you after putting everything away as sliding onto the bed next to you.

“Did you have a fun time doll, with your perverted roommate?” He asked you with a smirk on his face, to which you smacked his arm before turning away from him.

“Once a pervert, always a pervert,” you complained, ignoring him.

“But you finally paid attention to this pervert, so I got what I wanted baby,” he said to you, his arms coming to wrap around your body, pulling you close to him. You let him, content to stay in his arms for now.

“You wanted me to pay attention to you, all this time?” you asked, thinking he was being silly.

“That was all I wanted, doll. I just wanted your attention on me, and only me.”

Taglist: @bethelighthalazia @callmeghostly

#pirateeznet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut

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daemour · 2 years ago

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tag 9 people you want to get to know better

tagged by both @ssaboala and @flurrys-creativity

last song: wow thingg by seulgi, chungha, sinb, and soyeon

currently watching: demon slayer, business proposal, and whats wrong with secretary kim

currently reading: nothing actually lol, ive been very busy. tried a romance book but hated it so i dropped it

current obsession: jung wooyoung and e2l tropes

no pressure tags: ngl i don't have anyone to tag cus both flurry and anne tagged my mutuals lol so if u wanna do this go for it

#yah liv ur tagged #mutuals #ssaboala #flurrys-creativity

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potatomountain · 1 year ago

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"Case: It's You" Masterlist

Pairing: Detective Reader x ot8 detective ateez

Genre: enemies to lovers, romance, eventual smut, dark themes, angst.

Synopsis: As a headstrong detective- forced to transfer to another Precinct after pushing your team, and superiors too far- your new unit is less than pleased by your presence. In fact, they are down right hostile, resulting in more time butting heads than doing your job: taking down the organized crime 'gangs' of your city. Once you finally get your foot in the door, into their circle, you realize you bit off more than you can chew- or maybe it was the perfect place for you.

Completed word count(excluding spinoff chap): 97,875

Chapters:

♡15.5- Spinoff bonus |♡ {wc: 1,824}

Twenty-six | Twenty-seven | Twenty-eight | Twenty-nine | Thirty

This book is finished! Book 2 coming early march!

Big shoutout to my beta readers that are currently the soul motivation for this fic and remind me to edit: @flurrys-creativity @candypop1611 and @daemour

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dewdropdinosaur · 5 months ago

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Little Fire Lies

SILCO X READER

Summary: Silco is puzzled, why wouldn't he be? His long-time assistant has apparently been harboring secrets from him and he didn't know. What he doesn't know, however, is how much his curiosity will come back and bite him...on the neck.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of torture and sex. PG-13. Inspired by 1) Season 2 coming out soon and 2) @silcoitus because I read all of their stuff religiously. Word Count: 3500 words.

Silco's expression softened as he listened to her humming. It was a familiar song that echoed the anger and pain felt by many of the citizens, including himself. The anthem of the revolution, a strange choice for a song to hum during the work day. He knew it well, having heard it many times before. He stood there quietly, listening to the tune with a mix of understanding and resignation

"You're an interesting one, you know that Y/N?", he said under his breath, his gaze still fixed on her form.

Y/N peers at him from her periphery

“Hmm? Is that so?”

Silco smirks lightly, his gaze still fixated on her.

“You have a habit of using songs to express your thoughts and feelings, don't you? It's quite an unusual, and somewhat impressive, way to cope."

Y/N huffs and mumbles

“There are worse coping mechanisms”

Silco chuckles at her comment, a smirk forming on his face. He nods, knowing all too well the truth in her words

"That's true, I suppose. I've seen my fair share of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this city. But I must admit, yours is certainly the most... creative I've come across. And oddly fitting, considering your... talent."

Y/N finally raises her head from her paperwork, quirking a brow and eyes narrowing toward the man.

Silco's smirk grows slightly, a hint of playful banter in his tone

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about, Y/N. Don't play coy now. Your uncanny ability to stay completely calm and composed, even in the most precarious of situations. I've seen you handle difficult negotiations, tight deadlines, and volatile clients, all with a level head and a smile on your face. It's impressive... and slightly unnerving."

A hum follows.

“Well, thank you...I think.”

Silco chuckles again, leaning slightly against the desk in front of Y/N.

"It's both a compliment and a note of caution. It's remarkable how you can remain so unfazed by anything. But it also raises the question of what could break that unshakable composure, if anything at all."

Y/N, even the world at large, could see the dangerous curiosity in Silco’s eyes. The Eye of Zaun has always been a man of deadly inquiries, even to those who he trusts most. A way to test loyalty and more so, a way to test vulnerability. She could feel fear creep into her throat as she realized what was happening...an interrogation

“Thus far boss, haven't found anything yet.”

Silco's gaze remained intently fixed on her, his expression unreadable. He watched her every subtle reaction, the way her eyes might glance away, or how her fingers might fidget slightly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he says, his tone smooth and steady, yet there's an undertone of danger "You've always been good at hiding your weaknesses, haven't you?"

She keeps her expression neutral and her tone casual despite her brain running rampant

“One has to in this line of work–”

Silco nods, silently applauding her facade of calmness. He leans back from the desk, crossing his arms as he continues his questioning.

"True," he responds, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face, "In this city, showing weakness is a dangerous game. I've seen more than my fair share of people fall thanks to a single moment of misplaced honesty."

Silco's gaze becomes more intense as his voice drops to a lower tone

"But everyone has a breaking point, don't they? A moment where the facade slips, where the careful control is lost. Tell me, Y/N, what's yours? What would it take to break that calm facade you wear."

Y/N pauses, racking her brain for bullshit answers but none come to mind. A flurry of lyrics comes to her brain, the coping mechanism to calm herself but alas she can't voice the fears. Turning to face his intense gaze, her eyes betray nothing that is going on in her head

“I implore you to figure that out on your own, boss.”

Silco's gaze continues to bore into her skull, his face unwavering. He leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving her as he ponders the response. A hum erupts from his throat, a soft smirk playing at the corners of his scarred lips. He can see the subtle flicker in her eyes, and the slight tightening of her jaw, indicators of the internal battle she’s fighting. He would applaud the facade if it hadn’t been one defended against him.

He takes a step closer, his voice low and deliberate

"Now you're just being stubborn," he says, a hint of humor in his tone "But then again, when have you ever been anything but." He pauses, his gaze still intense "You're hiding something. I can feel it in the air. Something you don't want to admit, even to yourself."

She turns back to her paperwork, softly humming

“Like I said, you can figure it out...on your own.”

Silco lets out a huff, a mix of irritation and frustration at the continued display of nonchalance. Taking a step closer, he towers over her.

"Oh, you really think I won't find out, hm?" he asks, his voice low and almost challenging.

"I've found out everyone's secrets and weaknesses, eventually. What makes you think you're any different?

Y/N felt her heart race at his proximity, a small silent gasp leaving her lips.

“Because...you trust me. You said so yourself.”

Silco pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he processes the bullshit response. He slowly circles the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent office. His movements are slow and precise, like a prowling tiger stalking its prey. He stands behind her, his presence practically enveloping her form; pinning her between his chest and the desk.

"You're correct," he says, his voice a low rumble "I trust you far more than I've ever trusted anyone else. But trust, as you know, is a fickle thing. It can be broken, sometimes irreversibly."

Y/N’s palms start to sweat, heart pounding inside her chest. She can't admit defeat...even to him.

“Silco, please. Just let this one be.”

Silco leans down slightly, bringing his face close to hers. The air is thick with tension as his voice drops to a soft rumble, his breath warm on her ear.

"Give me one reason, just one, why I should let this go. Why I shouldn't pry and dig until I find what it is you're hiding from me."

His tone is smooth, almost seductive, yet there's a hint of danger underneath. He is determined to uncover this secret, unwilling to back down this time.

“It’s—it’s really not that important….”

Silco's smirk widens as he notices the slight blush on her cheeks, he’s winning. Leaning in closer, his nose almost touching the base of her neck, he lets out a hum, a low and dangerous sound.

"Not important, huh? If it wasn’t important, you wouldn't be so reluctant to reveal it. I know you, Y/N. You're hiding something deep, something that even you may not fully understand."

He moves even closer, his body almost pressed against the small of her back as he whispers "Just tell me, darling. I can keep a secret."

Y/N holds back a whimper at his closeness, the way his breath tickles the sweet spot on her neck

“Boss, please don't–”

Silco lets out a soft chuckle, his voice low and gravelly. He can feel the tension in her body, the way she’s struggling to hold back her reactions to his closeness. He moves even closer, his body now fully pressed against hers.

"Don't what, Y/N? I haven't done anything."

He leans in further, his nose now tracing along the flesh of her jawline, his breath warm against the skin.

"All I'm asking for is honesty. Is that so hard for you?"

“Fine, okay! I’ll tell you…just promise you won’t overreact.”

He can practically feel her resistance crumbling, the way her body responds to his touch. He's enjoying every response far more than he should, but he can't help it.

"Finally," he says, his voice a low rumble "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? Go on then, tell me. Let me in, darling."

Y/N pauses, closing her eyes in a silent prayer.

“I am in love with...you?”

Silco freezes, his eyes widening at the confession. He was expecting anything but this, the words coming out of her mouth, the honesty in her trembling voice, the revelation of love, it was all too unexpected, too dangerous, too...perfect

He steps back slightly, his eyes fixed on her as he processes her words. The room is silent except for the soft sound of the ragged breaths escaping from his mouth He continues to stare, his heart pounding in his chest, the silence between her thick and heavy with unspoken emotion.

Y/N sighs and places her head in her hands, running them through her hair in frustration.

“See why I didn't want to tell you?”

Silco's expression remains stoic as he continues to stare at her, his mind racing. He can feel a mixture of emotions coursing through him: shock, disbelief, excitement, and...fear. He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before speaSilco

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice thick with emotion "Are you...sure? About what you said?"

Y/N nods slowly and closes her eyes in a plea for a swift end should it come.

“Yes...fuck I–I can't help it, boss. Look if you just wanna fire me, I will never see you again and we don't have to talk about this at all–”

Silco's expression softens at the words, his heart clenching at the thought of her leaving. He reaches out, his hand gently lifting her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his and silence the rambling.

"I'm not going to fire you, you stupid girl," he says, his tone both frustrated and gentle at the same time. He lets out a sigh, his eyes locked in a steely gaze.

"How long have you felt this way?"

“I have worked for you for 3 years so I would say about...a year of that time.”

Silco's expression darkens slightly at the words, his frustration growing at the realization that she had been hiding this for so long. His fingers tighten on her chin, his hand not letting Y/N look away for even a second.

"A year..." he mutters, his voice low "You've been feeling this way for a year, and you never told me, never even hinted?"

“What was I supposed to do, admit that not only I loved my boss but the King of the Underground himself?”

Silco huffs in disbelief, his grip on her chin tightening further. His eyes are locked on her features, demanding attention, and submission.

"Yes." he says firmly "You should have told me. I can't read your damn mind, Y/N. You just expect me to know your feelings, to know what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

“I didn't want you to know! That's why I didn't tell you–”

Silco's expression hardens as he glares down. His fingers dig deeper into her chin, his touch almost too painful, waxing possessive.

"Why not? Why did you want to hide this from me? Don't you trust me?" he asks, his voice a rough growl "Because if you don't, why the hell have you been worSilco for me for the last three years?"

Y/N whimpers, his nails digging into her chin in a way that will surely leave bruises.

“I trust you I promise, I was just scared…I have seen you do worse things to people in this line of work boss.”

Silco huffs at her words, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He can't deny the truth in them, but he doesn't like being reminded of his brutal nature, especially not in this moment.

"You think I would treat you like those other people, like one of my employees?"

His voice is a low rumble filled with both anger and something else, something he can't quite name. Y/N tries to pull her chin away, the bruises forming already from his grip

“That's what I am though, your Y/N.”

Silco's grip doesn't waver as she tries to pull away. His eyes darken as he feels his control slipping, the anger and frustration boiling up within him. He leans down closer, his face inches from hers.

"Damn it, don't do this. Don't belittle yourself and don't reduce what you are to me to just an Y/N. You know it's more than that, damn it."

Silco's eyes flicker back and forth from her lips to her eyes, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel the pull between them, the unspoken tension that's been growing over the years. He can see the desire in her eyes, the need for something more than just a business relationship, and it threatens to break him.

"Damn it, Y/N," he mutters, his voice a low, rough whisper. "Don't look at me like that."

“Like what boss?”

Silco's eyes bore into her skull as he tried to hold onto the last shred of control he had. He's been keeping his feelings locked away for so long, and the innocence, the honesty, it's breaking him down, making him weak; and he hates it, and he loves it.

"Like you want me," he growls, his voice hoarse "Like you want to kiss me."

Barely above a whisper, the Y/N voices her finality “But I do want you, always have.”

She places her lips softly on his, allowing him to push her away, denying his affection should he choose it. Silco's eyes widen in surprise as her lips touch his. The last ounce of control he had evaporates like smoke. He hesitates for a moment, the conflict between reason and desire raging within him until finally the latter wins out. With a low growl, he pulls her closer, his hands wrapping around her waist as he kisses back, fiercely and hungrily.

One hand grips her waist, the other clutches her neck to pull her closer. The kiss is messy, full of tongue and teeth. Fierce and hungry, a place where she is not in charge.

Silco's lips leave her, a whine escaping her throat at the loss, but he moves to her jaw, peppering kisses along the skin, his teeth nipping at her jawline. He can feel his self-control slipping further with each passing second. He's wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, he's not holding back. His hands explore her body, tracing over her curves, possessive and demanding.

She moans softly as his teeth nip the sweet spot on her neck, hands tangling themselves in his neatly combed hair; head dizzy with want

“Silco–”

Silco smirks as he feels her hands in his hair, his ego stoked by her need and the sound of the soft moans that break from her soft lips. He continues to kiss and bite at her neck, enjoying the way her body reacts to his touch. He lets out a low growl, his voice a rough rumble against her ear.

"Say it again," He orders, his teeth nipping at her earlobe "Say my name, darling."

"Say my name, louder, I want to hear you moan it."

The Y/N gasped as his teeth continued their assault on her neck, his possessive grip leaving a small trail of bruises on her hip

“Silco please–”

The Silco shivered at the sound of his name. It sounded like honey, a dulcet candy for only him to hear. Only she could call his name like that and he would make sure she did it for the rest of her life. He can feel himself losing control, it’s driving him further into dangerous territory. His lips continue their assault on her neck, sucking and biting, marking her as his, making her beg in a way that's so damn satisfying.

"Please what, darling?" he growls, his hands gripping her hips tighter, grinding her core against him "You have to tell me what you want."

A tug on his hair and a wave of arousal pool and paint a spot on Silco's pants. The tug effectively ends his lip's attack on Y/N’s neck. Her eyes are blown with desire and her hair is disheveled as a thin line of salvia drips from puffy lips. Her neck is marked with the purple and red emblems of his handiwork.

“Please kiss me again.”

Silco's eyes widen at the sight below him, marked as his possession, hair disheveled, lips slick and wet, it makes his heart race, his body tense and needy. He almost laughs at the question, not believing she would think he could refuse such a request.

"You don't even have to ask," he growls, his voice low and full of desire "I'll kiss you as much as you want, darling." He pulls her closer, his lips crashing into hers fierce and dominant; his tongue seeking and demanding.

Y/N allowed his tongue to explore her mouth but soon slows down the kiss, letting the fit of passion fade and lead the way to a more slow and sensual one. One that expresses that this is more than carnal, it's an unspoken quiet desire that consumes her heart and soul.

Silco's eyes dilate at the sudden shift in the kiss. He can feel the change in energy, the way the kiss becomes slower, more sensual, more loving. It makes his heart clench in his chest, and for a brief moment, his mind whirls with emotions he's never felt before.

He responds to the change, matching Y/N’s pace, his hand going to caress her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing over the skin. Though, he eventually pulls away, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp. The intensity of the moment, the way the kiss had changed, it had completely thrown him off guard. He gazes into Y/N’s eyes, his expression a mix of a million different things: desire, love, confusion, fear. He exhales, one hand still caressing her cheek, trying to find the words to express what he's feeling, but they all seem to get lodged in his throat.

Y/N takes the pause to caress his cheek, tilting her head in mild confusion as to why they had stopped. Maybe he had decided he regretted it, maybe she had overwhelmed him maybe–

Silco leans into her touch, his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he relishes the feeling. He had never been touched this way, with such gentleness, such tenderness.

Y/N gives him a broken smile, while his expression is unreadable, she can sense he is struggling with something

“It's okay...you don't have to know how you feel. We can end this right here if you want.”

“No," he says, his voice rough and urgent "No, I...I don't want to end this. I just...I don't understand. These feelings, these emotions, they're all so damn new to me, I don't know how to cope with them."

He let out a frustrated huff, running his hand through his hair. Y/N let out a chuckle, sitting up in her chair and allowing him to kneel on the floor before her. Running her hands through his hair and settling them by cupping his cheek. Gazing into the eyes she has come to adore

“Then how about this. We take this one step at a time yeah?”

"One step at a time," he repeats, his voice a quiet murmur. He nods, opening his eyes to meet yours once more

"I can do that."

“We can do that”

Silco's heart lurches in his chest as Y/N says ‘we’ and he can't help the small smile that plays at the corner of his lips. The fact that she is so immediately willing to walk this path with him, to help him navigate these unfamiliar feelings and emotions, means more to him than she could know. He reaches up and covers her hand with his, holding it against his cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against the skin.

"One step at a time. Together."

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