#And then slowly coming towards each other

[leejenowrld]

all i want — na jaemin

pairing — na jaemin x reader

word count — 5.4k

genre — smut, explicit sexual content, sickeningly soft sex, riding, cock bouncing, intimacy

synopsis — you find jaemin sitting by the christmas tree after midnight, the soft glow of lights casting golden shadows across his bare chest as he waits for you. he pulls you into his lap, hands gliding up your thighs with just enough pressure to make you squirm, his voice low and teasing as he murmurs how good you’ve been for him this year. his kisses start slow, deliberate, but they quickly turn desperate—clothes pushed aside, your body pressed down onto the soft carpet beneath him. the lights flicker above you, catching in the dark hunger of his gaze as he fucks you hard and deep, his grip firm on your hips, like he’s afraid to let you go. your moans mix with his rough groans, the quiet of the house broken only by the sounds of him taking you apart, whispering that you’re the only gift he’s ever wanted

[fic ml]

The house was quiet, the kind of silence that only came late at night when the world had finally slowed down. The Christmas tree glowed softly, casting golden light across the room, its twinkling bulbs reflected faintly in the darkened windows. The air was warm, rich with the scent of pine and the lingering sweetness of cinnamon candles that had melted down to their wicks hours ago. Your bare feet sank into the plush carpet as you lingered at the edge of the room, eyes fixed on him.

Jaemin sat by the tree, one leg bent, the other stretched out lazily in front of him. His hair was a little mussed, tufts sticking up in different directions like he’d been running his fingers through it absentmindedly, a habit you found endearing. The soft light spilled across his bare chest, illuminating the faint curve of his collarbone, the smooth lines of his shoulders, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. His skin looked warm, golden in the glow, and you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, like his presence alone could dissolve the quiet ache of the day.

His hand rested on his thigh, fingers curling and uncurling idly as though they were waiting for you. His gaze lifted the moment he felt yours, soft and open, with just the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. Not the teasing kind he wore when he caught you flustered, but something gentler—unspoken affection, warm and steady, as though looking at you was enough to fill every part of him. He didn’t say anything, just tipped his head slightly, a silent invitation.

You couldn’t help but take him in—the way his chest expanded with each slow breath, the soft curve of his lips, the shadows cast by his lashes when his gaze flickered down for a moment, catching himself before he smiled wider. His presence filled the room, not in a loud or imposing way, but like a steady flame that burned just for you.

“You’ve been standing there for a while,” he murmured, his voice low, rich with an intimacy that sank into the quiet stillness of the house. His gaze traveled over you slowly, deliberately, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle with warmth. He didn’t move at first, just tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes catching the glow of the lights, soft but edged with something deeper—something that made your breath hitch.

“Come here,” he said, the words barely above a whisper but heavy enough to settle in the air between you. His fingers curled against his thigh, a subtle motion that drew your attention to the way his muscles shifted under his skin. “Are you going to sit on my lap,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, “or are you just going to keep staring like that?”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you moved toward him, your steps slow, almost hesitant, the plush carpet quiet under your feet. Jaemin’s gaze stayed fixed on you, unrelenting in its warmth, tracing every step, every shift in your posture, like he was memorizing the way you came to him. His silence wasn’t empty—it was heavy with meaning, a palpable thread of attention that wrapped around you and pulled you closer. When you reached him, his hand rose, fingers brushing against the inside of your wrist before curling around it gently, the touch lingering, deliberate. With a soft tug, he guided you down, his lap solid and warm beneath you.

“There you go,” he murmured, his voice low and close, words brushing the shell of your ear as his arms enveloped you. One hand settled on the small of your back, the other sliding up to cradle your side, firm yet tender as he pulled you against him. His skin radiated heat, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding you as your palms rested there, the rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. He shifted slightly, adjusting you like he couldn’t bear even a sliver of distance, his lips brushing your temple in a soft, fleeting touch. “Much better,” he whispered, his voice threaded with quiet satisfaction, the kind that made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Jaemin had a way of making you feel seen, held, even without words. His presence was steady, grounding, always tethered to you by touch. His fingers would linger at your side when he passed behind you, a soft brush of skin that made warmth bloom in your chest. When you sat close, his leg would press against yours, solid and reassuring, or his hand would find its place on your thigh, his thumb idly tracing slow, deliberate circles. He didn’t need to announce his affection—it was in the way he draped your favorite blanket over your shoulders without a word, the weight of it sinking into you like his attention had, or the way he’d steal a glance at you while he cooked breakfast, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught you looking back. In a crowded room, his hand would slip into yours like instinct, fingers lacing together, his touch firm enough to steady you but gentle enough to make your pulse skip.

Christmas with him felt tangible, something you could hold onto in every moment. Earlier in the evening, flour had dusted the counter and your fingertips as you laughed together, Jaemin pretending to pout when you pointed out his icing skills weren’t as perfect as he claimed. He leaned close to show you his snowman design, his breath warm against your neck, the closeness making your heart race more than it should have. Later, his arms had wrapped around you from behind as you opened his gift, his chin resting on your shoulder, his chest pressed against your back as he murmured how much he hoped you’d like it. With Jaemin, it wasn’t about grand gestures or lavish surprises. It was the way he stayed close, how his touch lingered, the warmth of his body against yours when he pulled you into his lap, like he couldn’t stand for even the smallest space to come between you.

Sitting in his lap, the glow of the tree casting warm shadows across his skin, you felt the weight of the day dissolve beneath his touch. His hands rested on your thighs, his palms broad and warm as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, each stroke sparking a warmth that curled low in your stomach. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and heavy, searching in a way that made your breath catch. His lips parted slightly, and his head tilted back just enough to give you a better view of his sharp jawline, the way his throat moved when he swallowed, his breathing slow and steady but charged.

“You’ve been good this year,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, rich and teasing as his thumbs pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs. His smile curved lazily, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, the glint in them enough to make your skin flush hot. “Haven’t you?”

Your breath hitched, and the way he looked at you made it impossible to hold his gaze for too long. Your cheeks burned under his attention as you shifted slightly in his lap, the motion drawing a quiet hum from him. “You tell me,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.

His smile widened, the edges tinged with something darker, something that sent a shiver racing up your spine. His hands slid higher, fingers brushing the hem of your nightwear, his grip firm enough to make your hips press instinctively closer to his. “I don’t think I’ve told you enough,” he said, his tone dropping into something more intimate, his lips so close to yours that his breath warmed your skin. “How proud I am of you. How lucky I am to have you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so soft it felt more like a promise than a touch. His hands tightened on your thighs, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, slow at first but quickly growing more insistent. His chest rose and fell against yours, his breathing still measured but heavier, like he was fighting to stay in control.

“Jaemin,” you whispered, your voice shaky, but he caught it, his lips hovering just over yours.

“Mm?” he hummed, the sound low and vibrating against your mouth as his hands slid higher, gripping your waist and pulling you more firmly into him. “What is it, love?” His tone was soft but laced with something that made heat pool low in your belly.

You shook your head, your fingers curling against the bare expanse of his shoulders. “Nothing,” you murmured, your lips brushing his with the word. “Just… I love you.”

He stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to your lips before rising back to meet yours. Something in his expression softened, the teasing edge melting into something tender, something that made your chest ache. “I love you too,” he said, his voice low but steady, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then trailing down to your temple, your cheek, and finally back to your mouth.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you growing with every second as Jaemin’s hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave you gasping against his mouth. His lips were soft, but the way he moved was anything but—insistent, deliberate, his touch making your body ache with the need for more. His thumbs slid under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you felt him smile against your lips as you shivered.

“Off,” he murmured, his voice low but teasing as he tugged lightly at your shirt. You broke the kiss long enough to pull it over your head, laughing softly when he fumbled with the fabric, trying to toss it aside. The sound made him grin, his gaze flicking to your bare skin before he reached for you again, pulling you back onto his lap.

“You’re slow,” you teased, your voice breathy as you reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers tugging at the soft fabric. “Let me help.”

“Am I?” he shot back, his tone playful but laced with challenge. His hands moved to your thighs, gripping them as he shifted beneath you, his strength evident in the way he easily lifted you just enough to push his pants lower. The movement had you giggling, your knees slipping on the soft fabric of his pants as you tried to balance yourself.

“Jaemin,” you laughed, your voice a mix of exasperation and affection as you swatted at his hands, trying to wriggle out of your own shorts. “You’re not making this easier.”

“I’m helping,” he replied, his lips quirking into a smirk as he tugged at your waistband, the action earning a sharp gasp when his fingers brushed lower than you expected. His eyes darkened at the sound, his teasing demeanor faltering for just a moment before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was messy, the two of you fumbling and laughing as you pushed at each other’s clothes, your movements hurried but full of warmth. Your hands found the hem of his boxers, and he groaned softly as you slid them down just enough to free him, his cock hot and heavy against your thigh. His breath hitched as your fingers wrapped around him, the sound sending a jolt of heat through you.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice rough now, his hands sliding up your bare thighs as you shifted to straddle him more fully. His touch was firm, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin there as he guided you closer, the heat of his body pressing into yours. The glow of the Christmas tree bathed him in soft light, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips as they parted slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“You like it,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you positioned yourself over him, the anticipation tightening in your chest. His hands moved to your hips, his grip steady as you sank down slowly, the stretch of him filling you making your breath stutter.

His head tipped back, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt you take him in, his fingers tightening on your hips like he needed to anchor himself. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained but thick with affection as his gaze flicked back to yours. “You feel so good.”

You bit your lip, your hands bracing against his shoulders as you began to move, the motion slow and deliberate at first. The flickering lights of the tree danced across his skin, highlighting the way his chest heaved, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His hands slid to your waist, guiding your rhythm as his hips rolled up to meet you, each movement sending a spark of pleasure through your body.

The teasing laughter from earlier was replaced with breathy moans and quiet gasps, the heat between you building with every second. The steady creak of the floor beneath you mixed with the soft sound of your bodies meeting, a rhythm that felt both unhurried and desperate. Jaemin’s hands roamed your back, his touch electric as he leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your collarbone, any part of you he could reach.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice rough but laced with something tender as his hands returned to your hips, holding you steady. His gaze was heavy, dark with hunger but softened by the affection in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world. “You’re perfect. You know that?”

Your heart twisted at his words, your movements faltering for a moment as you leaned in to kiss him, pouring everything you couldn’t say into the way your lips moved against his. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours as the rhythm between you grew faster, more erratic.

The Christmas lights flickered above, casting golden patterns across his skin, but all you could focus on was him—the way his breath came in sharp gasps against your lips, the way his grip on your hips tightened like he couldn’t bear to let you go, the way his body moved with yours like you were meant to fit together. His hands slid higher, fingers brushing the curve of your waist before skimming the sides of your ribs. The touch was deliberate, almost reverent, as though he wanted to commit every inch of you to memory.

His lips found your neck, the heat of his breath grazing your skin as he kissed his way down, open-mouthed and unhurried. The warmth of his tongue flicked over your collarbone, followed by the gentle scrape of his teeth, and you shivered against him. His hands reached up, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, his touch firm but tender. The quiet gasp that escaped your lips only spurred him on, his grip tightening just enough to make you arch into him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words vibrating against your skin as he kissed a path down to your chest. His mouth closed over one of your nipples, his tongue swirling as his other hand teased its twin, his fingers pinching and rolling with just the right amount of pressure. The sensation sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips rocked against him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

His hands slid back to your hips, guiding you into a steady rhythm that had his cock pressing deeper with every movement. The stretch was intoxicating, the way he filled you completely, leaving no space between your bodies. His lips returned to yours, kissing you with a hunger that left you breathless, his tongue sliding against yours as his hips bucked up to meet you.

“Jaemin,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your movements grew faster, more frantic. His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding that sensitive spot that made your head tip back, a broken moan spilling from your lips. He worked you in perfect sync with the roll of his hips, his touch skilled, relentless, driving you higher with every stroke.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse, his eyes dark as they locked onto yours. His free hand gripped your ass, pulling you against him harder, deeper, the intensity between you building until it felt like you were on the edge of unraveling completely.

The raw emotion in his gaze left you undone, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were everything he’d ever wanted. “Stay right here,” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges as his fingers traced the curve of your back, pulling you closer. His eyes searched yours, his expression open, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. There was no pretense, no facade, just him—completely with you, completely for you.

Jaemin’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingertips pressing into your skin, leaving behind the kind of heat that lingered. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and heavy with the kind of focus that made you feel like you were unraveling under his gaze. Every roll of his hips was measured, deliberate, like he was learning what made you gasp, what made you cling to him harder, and then repeating it until your movements turned erratic.

His lips brushed against your collarbone, warm and slightly parted, his breath fanning over your skin before he bit down gently, his teeth grazing the soft curve. The sharp sensation made your nails dig into his shoulders, and you felt the shudder that rolled through him in response. His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down the line of your throat, his tongue teasing against the sensitive dip where your neck met your shoulder.

Fingers slid up your sides, slow and purposeful, tracing the curve of your ribs before brushing the underside of your breasts. His touch was reverent, almost agonizingly slow, as if he wanted to memorize the way your body moved under his hands. When his thumbs rolled over your nipples, your head tipped back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He watched the way your body arched for him, his mouth curving into a faint smirk before his tongue flicked out, warm and deliberate, against the hardened peak.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you managed to tease, though your voice wavered as he took you deeper into his mouth, his lips soft but insistent. He hummed against your skin, the low vibration sending a jolt of heat through you, his hands still working you in rhythm with his mouth, his fingers pinching and rolling with a precision that had you trembling.

“Just admiring,” he murmured, his voice rough and quiet as he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. He pressed his lips against the swell of your breast before his mouth found your other nipple, his teeth grazing lightly before sucking it into his mouth. The sharp pull made your thighs tense around his hips, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

His hands moved lower again, gripping the curve of your ass as he shifted beneath you, his cock pressing deeper, fuller, the movement enough to have your breath stuttering. His hips rolled up, matching the pace you’d set, but the angle was different now, sharper, each thrust hitting just the right spot.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles, your touch roaming over the sweat-slick skin as you braced yourself against his shoulders. He didn’t let you stay there long, though, his hand catching yours and guiding it lower, pressing it flat against his abdomen, just above where your bodies met. The muscles there flexed under your touch, and the quiet groan he let out was almost enough to push you over the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though it was unclear if you were saying it to him or yourself. His response was wordless—his grip tightening, his movements growing sharper, his focus never wavering.

One of his hands slid between your thighs, his fingers finding you with an accuracy that made your head fall forward, your forehead pressing against his. His lips brushed yours—not a kiss, but a barely-there touch, his breath mingling with yours as he worked you, the rhythm of his fingers and the grind of his hips perfectly in sync.

“Feels so good like this,” he muttered, the words half-broken, his voice a mix of restraint and need. His other hand moved to your back, fingers splayed as he pulled you closer, like he needed you to feel how tightly he was holding himself together. His eyes searched yours, his expression raw, almost desperate, as if he needed this moment as much as you did.

His skin was damp, the sweat catching on his jaw as his breath came in uneven gasps, lips parted just enough for you to feel the heat of each exhale. His forehead pressed firmly against yours, the closeness grounding you as your movements turned frantic, hips meeting in a rhythm that was rough, desperate, and entirely consuming. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you harder against him, his groans low and raw as your gasps filled the space between you. Every shift, every thrust sent a sharp, electric current through your body, the tension coiling tighter with every second, leaving no room for anything but him.

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed, his hips snapping up harder, his hand gripping your ass to pull you down onto him with every thrust. His mouth found your jaw, then your jawline, his lips dragging over your skin, hot and insistent, his teeth grazing just enough to leave a sting before he soothed the spot with his tongue. His grip on your ass tightened, fingers pressing into the curve as he moved you with him, his hips snapping upward in a rhythm that left you breathless.

“Right there,” he muttered against your jaw, his voice rough, each word punctuated by the sharp roll of his hips. His free hand slid up your back, fingers splaying wide as he pulled you closer, your chest flush against his. The friction of your skin meeting only added to the heat building between you, every nerve alight under his touch.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your throat, the sound low and desperate. His mouth traveled lower, finding the hollow at the base of your neck, his tongue flicking out before his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin. Your body arched into him instinctively, your thighs trembling as his hips met yours with unrelenting precision.

“Let me see you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your collarbone as his hands roamed your body again, one sliding up to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, slow at first, then firmer when you gasped, your back arching further under his touch. His lips followed, his mouth finding the peak as he sucked gently, his tongue circling before pulling back to blow cool air over your skin, making you shudder.

“Jaemin,” you breathed, the sound of his name catching in your throat as his other hand slipped between your thighs. His fingers moved with practiced ease, finding you, teasing you, his touch deliberate and maddeningly slow. He watched your reaction, his eyes dark and heavy, his lips curving into a faint smirk when your hips bucked against his hand.

“Keep moving,” he said, his voice thick and commanding, his fingers pressing into you just enough to make your breath hitch. “I want to feel everything.”

You did as he asked, grinding down harder onto him, the stretch of his cock combined with the pressure of his fingers sending shockwaves through your body. The Christmas lights flickered overhead, casting a golden glow across his skin, illuminating the sheen of sweat on his chest, the slight parting of his lips as he groaned.

His mouth found yours again, urgent and consuming, his tongue sweeping against yours as he kissed you like he needed it to breathe. His hands guided your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper, every thrust hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“Don’t stop,” he rasped, his voice barely holding steady, his grip tightening as his movements became rougher, more desperate. The sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his ragged groans, the quiet of the house broken by the sheer intensity of it all.

Jaemin’s rhythm faltered for just a moment, his hips snapping up harder, more deliberate, as his hand slid up your back, pulling you so close there was nothing between you but heat and motion. His forehead pressed to yours, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts, his gaze locking onto yours. The intensity in his eyes made your chest tighten, your heart pounding almost as loudly as the sound of your bodies meeting.

“Don’t look away,” he murmured, his voice a quiet plea, his hand resting at the nape of your neck, thumb brushing softly along your hairline. His eyes searched yours, raw and steady, like he was trying to hold onto every part of you all at once. “I need to see you. Just like this.”

Your fingers trailed over his shoulders, trembling slightly as they skimmed over his warm skin. His words settled somewhere deep, unshakable, and they made your chest tighten in a way that left you breathless. You leaned closer, your forehead pressing against his, your lips just barely brushing his. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice soft but unwavering. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he stilled, the weight of your words settling into the quiet between you. His hand slipped to your waist, holding you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering, before his lips trailed to your cheek, your temple, his movements slow and deliberate, each one filled with meaning.

“You’re my whole world,” he whispered, the words trembling against your skin. “Do you know that? Nothing else matters but you.”

Your hands slid into his hair, your fingers tangling gently as you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like it carried the world. His movements slowed further, his hips rolling into you with an unhurried rhythm, every thrust deep and intentional, like he wanted to savor every second. The soft sounds that escaped his lips—your name, half-formed words, quiet sighs—made you feel like nothing else mattered but this.

“You’re all I feel,” you murmured, your lips grazing his as you spoke. “Every part of me is yours.”

His hand slid up your back, his palm pressing firmly against your skin, grounding you in his touch. “I can’t let you go,” he murmured, his voice unsteady, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I wouldn’t know how even if I wanted to.”

Your chest tightened at the raw honesty in his voice, each word settling deep in a place only he could reach. “Then don’t,” you whispered, your hands framing his face as you leaned in, your kiss slow and full of everything you couldn’t say. “I’ve always been yours and I’ll always be yours.”

His breath stuttered, and his arms wrapped tighter around you, like he needed you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear. His lips found your neck, soft and lingering, leaving kisses that felt like they carried more words than he could ever say out loud. His hand drifted down, tracing the curve of your waist, the softness of your thighs, before sliding back up to hold you steady.

The moment stretched between you, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, the pace unhurried but building, like waves crashing softly, slowly gaining strength. His fingers brushed over your back, tracing invisible lines, his other hand gripping your waist, guiding you as he pressed deeper, his movements fluid and effortless.

His forehead rested against yours, his hands gliding up your back in a tender, steady motion. “I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain, the words settling in the quiet between you. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your fingers brushed gently over his jaw as you smiled, your chest tightening at the quiet sincerity in his voice. “I love you more,” you whispered, the words falling effortlessly, like they’d always belonged there.

The tension between you rose steadily, the soft sounds of your breathing mingling with the quiet gasps and sighs that filled the air. His name slipped from your lips, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours, his gaze full of something so tender it made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He kissed you again, soft and slow, as your body trembled in his arms, your release building, inevitable, as his touch carried you to the edge.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet certainty, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head as he held you close. “I’ve always got you.”

Your body tightened around him, and he stilled for a moment, his own breath catching as he watched you fall apart in his arms. The quiet sound of your name on his lips, his voice full of awe, was the last thing you heard before you came undone. His movements became uneven, his own release washing over him as he buried himself in you, his grip firm but tender, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

The aftershocks rippled through you both, your breaths tangled in the stillness, the air between you heavy with warmth and quiet satisfaction. His hands remained on your waist, his touch soft now, fingertips grazing the curve of your skin like he was reluctant to lose the connection. He shifted slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, a fleeting kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

His hands tightened on your waist, his thumbs pressing into your skin with just enough pressure to make you shiver. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Do you feel that? The way your body fits mine, the way I can’t stop wanting more of you.” His lips grazed the side of your neck, lingering, his voice thick with heat. “I could spend forever right here, memorizing every part of you.”

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently as you tilted his head back, meeting his gaze with a smirk that barely masked the quiver in your voice. “Forever might not be long enough,” you murmured, your words soft but teasing as your lips hovered over his.

His dark eyes flashed with something sharper, hungrier, as his hands moved lower, his voice a low, intimate growl. “Then I guess we’d better start now, baby girl.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, his eyes flickering over your face, taking in every detail like he was committing you to memory. He kissed you again, slow and purposeful, his lips warm and unhurried against yours. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t just in the touch, but in the way his breath hitched as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding back down to hold your waist, pulling you closer even when there was no space left to fill.

“I’ve never needed anything more than I need you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice thick, almost reverent. “You’re all I want. You’re the only gift I’ve ever need.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t empty—it was full, brimming with everything neither of you needed to say. The softness in his gaze mirrored the ache in your chest, a warmth that spread through your limbs as his hands slipped to your thighs, holding you steady as you shifted slightly in his lap.

Christmas wasn’t about the tree, the lights, or anything outside this moment—it was in the way he held you, in the way his breath mingled with yours, in the way his touch lingered on your skin as if to remind you that here, in his arms, was exactly where you belonged.

[everythingspokenfor]

Currently thinking about arranged marriage au with Bakugou..

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Husband!Bakugou who had known you for about 6 months before you both got married, your parents having introduced you two. Hoping to personally aid in love life of their children and praying to get grandchildren.

Husband!Bakugou who despite being uneasy by the presence of another person in his house, is quite considerate. Cooking meals for you whenever possible, keeping your favourite chocolates in stock, always making sure you feel welcomed.

Husband!Bakugou who has your schedule memorized, dropping you to the hospital everyday and picking you up as well.

Husband!Bakugou who never lets you feel left out, always mentioning about work, what he did that day, even the reports he wrote.

Husband!Bakugou who, 3 months after the marriage mentions his friends wanting to meet you, considering the marriage had been private, only close family was there. His friends knew about the marriage, had even seen photos of you but, were yet to meet you.

Husband!Bakugou who, on the way to his house, tells his friends to behave and cause a wreak havoc when they get there. Denki teases him, stating how Mrs.Bakugou already has him trained. Bakugou tells him to shut up but his ears did turn red.

Husband!Bakugou who sits back and lets you mingle with his friends, noting how you were already getting along with them so well.

Husband!Bakugou who helps you can after everyone had returned to their respective homes. Bakugou who stands beside you, washing the dishes while you dry them. Both of you working in silence.

"Did you enjoy today? Hopefully it wasn't to exhausting." He spoke.

"I was fun." You turned towards him. "It's good getting to know people."

The dishes were done, both of you now looking at each other, he turns to look at you before slowly leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You instantly melt against him and wrap your hands around his neck.

A low hiss leaves his mouth at the coldness of your fingers. Bakugou let's his hands wonder, one hand holding your head while other going down and squeezing at your waist.

He taps your thigh, signalling you to lift it. Holding your thigh, he ruts his hips against your core. His bulge rubs against your clit. You let out a gasp, clit buzzing in joy. He leans lower trailing kisses down your throat, leaving behind love bites for you to admire later.

"-am takin' this off." He pulled your sweater off. He let out a groan, the sight of you in bra making his cock throb.

"wait- hold on." You pulled away. "We don- don't have condoms."

He looked at you bewildered, the idea of being cockblocked by lack of rubber and possibility of fucking you raw clashing.

"I'll pull out." He said before continuing to hump his cock into your cunt.

"You won't, we both know it."

He lets out a defeated sigh, before gently letting your leg down and moving to the living room.

He comes back with a thin blanket before wrapping it around your shoulders. "Go to bedroom, I'll be back in a minute." He kisses your forehead before he is out the front door.

Husband!Bakugou who is standing at the cashier counter impatiently, thinking about you laying in bed and playing with yourself with only three items in hand, pack of large condoms, unscented lube and your favourite post sex snack.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

[straylightdream]

never leave this bed

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: husband!jeon wonwoo x curvy!f.reader

once your husband returns from a long trip you want nothing more then to stay in bed together.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, established relationship

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): non idol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: very fluffy, they’re both super in love with each other, mentions of past body insecurities, wonwoo is obsessed with his wives curvy body, mentions of have having children in the future, smut warning below the cut.

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: explicit, smut, 18+

𝐚𝐧: this is a part of my series I’m going to writing with the SVT boys as husbands called ‘my only one’.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: big dick wonwoo, soft dom wonwoo, needy mc, pussy stretching, unprotected sex (mc is on birth control), breeding kink, mention of impregnating the reader, wonwoo is obsessed with his wife’s thick thighs, body worship, size kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, nipple play, fingering, cockwarming, alluding to shower sex

Rolling over you cuddled into your husband chests. Your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as you wrapped your arm around his strong chest. You’re both completely naked from the long night you spent together.

You had been married for two years and neither of you had ever been happier in your lives. You had met because you were friends with Mingyu and he had introduced them to each other. Mingyu had told Wonwoo he found his future wife from him, and to this day Mingyu tells everyone you got married because of him.

Wonwoo was home from a two week long work trip. You had decided to spend the day in bed just enjoying each other.

Slowly you pressed your lips to his neck, and put your leg over his stomach. You were basically laying on top of him, but he didn’t care. He always told you he loved when you laid on him. According to him you weigh nothing. Your soft stomach and thick thighs strongly disagree with him. Anytime you even got slightly insecure about your body your husband would immediately let you know how attracted to you he is.

Gripping your thigh he held her close. His fingers gently kneading your flesh. This man has always had a fascination with your thighs. “We’re not getting out of bed today,” he said as you pressed your lips to his neck again. Leaving a trail of open mouth kisses. You wonder if he'll mind you leaving a mark.

“Nope I’m staying right here,” you murmured against his neck.

Slowly he ran his hand up and down your thigh holding you close. He couldn’t get enough of his wife. He hated going on work trips and being away from you. But you made coming home truly worth it. Even if it was just spending the day in bed cuddling. If you had your way your husband would have been naked the moment he walked in the door.

He got in at eleven at night and the moment the front door was locked you practically jumped him. You didn’t even let him take you to bed. A sea of clothes littered the living room as you sat naked on your husband’s lap. His huge cock snug inside you as you kissed anywhere your lips could reach.

Once he finally got you in bed he told you he desperately wanted to just hold you. Who were you to say no to his request?

“I love you so much,” he smiled.

“I love you too,” you said, moving so you could look at him.

Looking toward his wife he smiled and leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “You’re perfect,” he said, resting his nose against yours. His loving words caused you to smile. Finding Wonwoo was the best thing that had ever happened to you. The love he had for you was like something you could only dream of.

“What if we just never left this bed?” You asked, leaning back onto the bed away from Wonwoo.

“I would never leave this bed if I didn’t have to work,” he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand and looked over at you as you stared up at the ceiling.

“It's a shame you can’t just work from home everyday. I need my husband to stay in bed with me forever,” you smiled. In a dream world he wouldn’t have to travel so much for work.

You knew when you got together there were going to be times he had to leave for long work trips. You knew about the details of his job from the moment Mingyu introduced you. He might be gone often, but you knew no matter what he was always gonna come back to you after his trips.

“You look so beautiful in the morning,” he said, causing your cheeks to flush.

“You are literally the perfect man,” you rolled onto her side so you were staring at each other.

“I want to be the perfect man for you. Now come back over here and lay on me again,” he rolled on to his back again. He never missed a chance to feel your body weight on him.

A soft laugh passed your lips as you moved over and cuddled back into your husband. You rested on his chest and your arm was resting across his stomach.

“We’re not leaving this bed today,” you sighed with a little smile.

“I’m only getting out of bed to take you in the shower, and to possibly eat.” Of course this man is already thinking about shower sex. That might be his favorite to take you other than your bed. Lifting your thigh you put more weight back on his stomach. “Baby I know I said I want to cuddle, but I want to be inside you so badly.”

His words earn a laugh from you. “How do you plan on making that happen? I thought you wanted to cuddle?”

“Lay on your back for me baby.”

Listening to his request you lay on your back and spread your legs without him having to ask. Laying on his side pressed up against your side, his fingers dip between your legs. His index finger plays with your clit while he rubs his growing erection against your thigh.

“You feel so good,” he groans against your skin. You can’t even respond, you just moan as he starts pumping two fingers in your already wet hole. “I need to stretch you out, little baby. I’m not going to fit if I don’t prep you.” In the beginning of your relationship that statement wouldn’t be wrong. Wonwoo has the biggest dick you’ve ever taken before. When you first started dating you couldn’t jump into having sex without him giving you some foreplay. Now four years into your relationship you’ve grown accustomed to the stretch of him filling you for the first few thrust.

“I don’t need prep. You fucked me like two hours ago,” you moan.

“Someone is needy,” he laughs. The hill of his palm continues to rub against your sensitive clit. Hooking his fingers he rubs the spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. “Just come one my hand once and I’ll fuck you nice and slow from behind.” Wonwoo never misses an opportunity to take you from behind. “All you have to do is cum once.” He whispers.

Closing your eyes, rolling your head back, your whole body feels like it’s tightening as you get closer to the edge.

Gasping his name you fall apart on his hand. Your walls contract around his fingers. His hands continue to thrust in and out of you slowly helping you ride out your high.

“Lay on your side baby.” Following his request you lay on your side facing away from him. He pushes your knee up giving him access to your wet core. His large hand kneads the flesh off your ass pressing himself against you.

“Please don’t tease me.” You just want your husband to fuck you already.

“So needy,” he’s running his hardened length through your folds. “Are you stretched out enough for me?”

“Please fuck me,” you moan. Each time his length brushes your clit you see stars.

Taking himself in his hand he slowly pushes into you. He fills you completely. His pelvis is pressed up firmly against your ass. His hand gropes your breast as he moans in your ear. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

Rolling your head back you can’t help but moan. His pace is slow. A trail of love bites are being left against your bare shoulder.

“Harder,” you whisper. You want the slow pace but just harder. He listens to you without another word. Rolling his hips into you over and over again. The roam is filled with echoing sounds of whimpers and moans.

“Won-“ you can’t even properly form his name.

“Do you want me to fill you up?” His hand moves from your breast down to your pussy. His fingers toy with your clit earning a moan.

“Please.”

“Do you want me to put a baby in you?” This has been one of your husband’s favorite things to bring up in bed now. You are ready to have a baby with him. His new breeding kink has definitely worn off on you.

“I’m going to cu-“ your body feels like a live water as your orgasm washes over you. “Wonwoo-“ your hand grips his hand that’s playing with your clit. Overstimulation kicks in as he keeps thrusting into you over and over as your high continues.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he groans.

He continues his slow but firm pace. Your hand clings to his hand. Your eyes roll back in your head as another orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks. “Wonwoo-“

The way he moans your name as he cums, painting your walls white is absolutely intoxicating. His hands dig into your hips holding your flush against him.

“We might need to get out of bed to shower,” you say, earning a soft laugh from him.

“God I love you.” He kisses your shoulder gently.

“I love you too.”

He’s still inside you and the way he is holding you you don’t think he plans on pulling out. You have no problem staying in bed cockwarming your husband for a while.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[zombieewrites]

logan when you don't shave

logan howlett x reader

summary: you've been together for months, but how will he react when you forget to shave?

warnings: no smut but still nsfw

word count: 958

His touches make it feel like electricity is coursing through your whole body. Logan’s is simultaneously rough and delicate, his actions contradicting themself and leaving you all worked up.

You and Logan were supposed to be watching a movie tonight but he just can’t control himself around you. You were trying really really hard to focus on the movie but he made this an impossible task. The way he was rubbing tender circles on your thighs, inching further and further to your heat every once in a while, was driving you insane. His strong hands hold you in such a delicate grasp that fills your whole body up with a familiar warmth.

As the movie continued you could tell that Logan’s focus was tuned more onto you than the screen. The touches are slowly getting more impatient. Logan has your body memorized, cherishing every crevice and dip of your body.

The TV lights flicker in the dark, illuminating your features. Your eyebrows are ever so slightly scrunched as you pretend to pay attention to the movie. Logan stares at you with amazement, he will forever be in awe of your beauty. He inches towards you and wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer. At this point Logan isn't even trying to hide the fact that he's not watching the movie anymore. Then you feel soft pecking on your neck and jaw, causing your breath to hitch. No one needs superhuman abilities to hear how fast your heart is beating.

“Do y’know how pretty you are, sweetheart?” Logan whispers to you.

You turn your head to respond to him, but the second that you open your mouth, his lips are attached to yours. Heavy hands wrap around your whole body, holding you tight. The kiss is passionate yet tender. Logan’s actions are a reflection of how badly he needs you.

Warmth radiates through your whole body. Without thinking your thighs rub together, attempting to give you any form of satisfaction. Noticing this, Logan places his hand behind your head as he guides you to lay down on the couch. Never breaking the kiss. His big hands continue to explore your body with a sense of hunger. The kisses quickly go from tender to rough. You place your hands behind his neck and wrap your legs around him. Logan groans into your mouth at the feeling of your warm body on his. Your panties get damp at that sound alone. And just like that he grinds down on you, both of your clothed centers rubbing on each other. Logan knows how to leave you feeling worked up. As the feeling of pleasure is taking over you, you whimper out his name with a soft sigh.

“Mmm you sound so pretty,” Logan says with a needy tone. “Need you s’ bad.”

A tug on your pants lets you know how eager he is. This feeling of your pants beginning to come off makes you jolt in embarrassment. After remembering that you didn't shave, your whole body is filled with nerves. Breaking the kiss, Logan instantly senses your body’s reaction. He looks down at you with a concerned gaze as he rubs comforting circles on your arm.

“Something wrong, darlin’?” He asks you. “Y’know you can always tell me if something is bothering you?”

Some men hate when you don't shave and some men say they don't mind it, when in reality they do. Its only been a few months with him but to avoid any issues you always shaved. Your fear of Logan’s reaction electrified your senses.

“It's just…I didn't really have the time..” You avoid eye contact in embarrassment before you responded. “I’ve just been pretty busy lately and I forgot to properly clean up…”

You look back at Logan only to find a confused look written all over his face. A horn must've grew out the middle of your forehead the way he was staring at you.

“I just haven't shaved and so maybe we should do this another time y’know?” You answer.

Just like that his confusion is wiped away and replaced with small laughter. Oh God. This is pure humility. You just confessed that and he was giggling? Just simply laughing at you? You instantly regret even telling him that much.

“Sweetheart,” Logan says with a chuckle, “I've been alive for over 200 years and you really think I can't handle a little bit of hair?”

Your eyes are drawn back to him as you listen.

“I don't know about any of those boys you've been with but I'm a man. I could give less of a fuck how you choose to present yourself to me, as long as it's you I'm fine.” He assures you, “In all honesty, if someone is giving that much of theirself to me, and I stop to worry about some hair, then I’ve gotta have some issues, angel.”

As simple as that, all humility leaves your body instantly. His words are genuine and comforting. Making you feel desired comes easy to Logan.

With a low tone he asks you, “You hear me? I want you no matter what. I will never let anything as miniscule as hair stop me from loving you. You got that?”

You cup his face in your hands as you stare up at him. The love he has for you makes your entire body tingle. His rough mutton chops rub between your fingers as you admire him. With a small nod you respond to him.

“Mmmkay” is all you can manage to get out under his gaze.

Logan grins as he hovers over you while placing sweet kisses on your collarbone, “Lemme just show you how much all that doesn't matter to me, sweet thing.”

[deusfoundry]

18+ only mdni pls thank u!

also big BIIG thanks to ree @tbaluver for helping me w this ILY MWAAH!

zayne would never be opposed to letting you have your way with him.

one half-lidded gaze from you, one graze of your manicured nails at his clothed length, one drag of your wet tongue against the shell of his ear as you tell him how badly you want him inside you, and he's a goner. already, he's letting you drag him to the bedroom. sometimes neither of you even have the patience to go there, and zayne ends up pinning you against the wall just outside his office, his palms desperately clinging to the back of your thigh in a way that burns. sometimes he settles on having you bent over his desk, his chest pressed against your back, the same nails clawing at the heavy mahogany, papers hastily pushed to the side.

but this report is important. it's due first thing in the morning, and as much as he wants to be in bed with you, right now he has to finish this.

when you first approached him tonight with the pure and genuine intention of getting him to sleep early, he dismisses you apologetically. he places a hand on your cheek, swiping his thumb right below your eyes as if he's wiping your tears and tells you he's sorry. he'll be there soon, and you should go to sleep if you're feeling tired (which he knows you are, if the yawn you struggle to push down is anything to go by).

he watches your figure retreat from his office, shoulders hunched and footsteps unnervingly silent. the guilt starts to simmer within him, slowly, steadily eating at him until he's filled with thoughts of abandoning his work to put that smile he adores back on your face. he wills his focus back on the screen in front of him instead, dead set on making it up to you after his shift tomorrow. perhaps he can even afford to clock out a little earlier, just in time to pick up two boxes of the strawberry macarons you two love so much from a cafe at the other side of town right before they close.

except, you come back to his office a half hour later, and this time, zayne knows you're up to no good.

it's in the little things. you're sauntering towards him with a sway to your hips. the first two buttons of his shirt you're wearing is undone, one side of the collar pulled to the edge of your shoulder, exposing to him a dangerous amount of smooth skin. the cherry on top is the noticeable absence of the shorts you were wearing earlier.

zayne wonders if you'd forgo wearing your underwear as well.

"zayne..." it's there, too. in the way you say his name, drawled out and a little breathless. if he listens closely, he can hear the undertone of a whine.

he feels the all familiar strain in his pants.

zayne watches, a mix of amusement and intrigue, as you rub a palm up and down the length of his arm before nudging it away and sliding yourself onto his lap. you encase his neck between your arms, using it to anchor yourself closer until you're right on top of his increasingly aching cock.

you make no comment about the bulge in his pants poking your thighs, but he knows you're aware of the effect you have on him. a smug grin makes it way to your lips. just a flicker, a brief moment where you acknowledge what you're doing to him, and it's gone the next second.

"i'm not feeling too well, doctor. i think i need a check-up."

you begin feigning distress, making a show out of curling into yourself and leaning against his chest. the movement you make causes the fabric on your shoulder to slip off. slowly, like each added inch of skin baring itself to him is taunting him. it stops, resting right in the middle of your arm, low enough that he can see the better part of your left breast.

his face runs hot, but he decides to humor you. just for the few seconds he could afford to spare if he wanted to finish this report before midnight.

the back of zayne's hand finds your neck. he moves it around a little, shifting from one side to another as if he's checking for your temperature.

"there's nothing particularly off about your temperature." he hums, sliding you further down his lap, intent on pouring all his attention to his work. he'll just have to deal with his ... problem later.

zayne almost misses the way your face falls in disappointment once you realize what he's doing. there's that guilt again.

he plants a kiss on your temple, his lips lingering on the side of your head much longer than it should've had. he's hoping it's enough to convey his words unsaid.

"perhaps you're just missing a few hours of sleep. shall i accompany the patient back to her bedroom?"

you stay quiet, lips pursed in deep thought. the silence stretches on until zayne gathers it's time for him to speak.

only, you beat him to it, moving to straddle his thighs so quickly that zayne can only react by wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don't fall. you land right back over his cock with enough force that it pulls an involuntary groan out of his lips and a whimper from yours.

"i think-" you breathe in, a sharp inhale through your nose before you breathe out through your mouth. the searing heat of your breath on zayne's ear makes him shiver beneath you, low vibrations sending a jolt to your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

"i think this requires a more..." you take his hand in yours, shakily drawing it closer to hover over your breast. "hands-on approach, doctor."

zayne's head is spinning. your cunt over his painfully hard cock. the odd warmth radiating from your chest, the faint shadow of your pert nipples through his shirt. this look you're giving him, eyes hazy and half-closed like you're already lost in the pleasure when you've barely gotten enough. it's too much.

it's all too much.

"dear-"

he's cut off by the drag of your hips, pressing down on him with enough pressure that his head is thrown back from the friction of the inner fabric of his pants rubbing against his length, but just shy of the speed you both need to chase your high.

zayne finally puts his foot down when your pace starts to get more frantic. he pries his hand off of yours, using the combined strength of his arm around your waist and his hand on your hips to steady you.

he hears a quiet whine slipping past your lips at the loss of pleasure.

"stop. t- that's enough." he means to add more conviction to his words, but he finds that his voice comes out as less polite pleading and more pathetic begging. "i'll make it up to you later, just- just let me finish this."

a mix of whimpers and whines fall off your lips. you try to move despite his restraints, rolling your hips with as much fervor as you can muster. and it works. zayne moans, his arms going limp over that momentary burst of pleasure. you take advantage of his weakened state to full on ride his clothed cock.

zayne begins to lose himself. the thought of his report sits there, idly in the back of his mind, but it's almost completely replaced by you. you, and the delicious roll of your hips into his, filling his vision with the sight of stars and the whole universe. you, and the blissed out look on your face as you use his body to chase your pleasure. you, your eyes shut in concentration, your messed up hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.

you.

you.

you.

you've almost consumed him whole.

almost.

zayne regains his bearings just in time to stop you from going over the edge. your eyes are pried open, jaw slacking as his hand finds your waist once more. you're about to complain, beg him to allow you to keep going. but his fingers dig into your flesh. his grip, firm yet delicate, sends an odd blend of pain and pleasure through your senses.

"i said that's enough."

zayne says—no, commands with a certain finality in his voice that makes you think he wants to stop altogether. but you find his actions contradicting his words when he pushes his chair back, providing him enough space to turn you around with ease.

your mind is having trouble keeping up with him. you can make out the sound of his zipper being pulled, the rustling of his pants as he yanks it down just enough for his length to spring free, the light slapping of skin on skin when his cock makes brief contact with your back. but you only come face to face with what's happening when zayne hoists you up by the waist, dragging your panties to the side. your juices from earlier acts as a lubricant for him to sheathe his cock into you with little resistance.

you're so full so suddenly, gummy walls gripping him like a vice. the tip brushes against that spot inside you that zayne knows sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"zayne-!"

"shh, be quiet." he slides the chair back towards the desk, his arm unmoving around your waist. every slight twitch of his cock has you clenching down on him, but zayne makes no move to react. your only indication of how riled up he truly is are his hand latching on to your skin and the minute quiver of his voice, breath hot and shaky over your ear.

you're reminded of how it was him in this position a moment ago. how it was seemingly your victory.

"now, why don't you be a good girl and stay still."

something tells you you're in for a long night.

a/n: smut is surprisingly fun to write lmfao HKASHFD

dividers by @cafekitsune

[reidrum]

bright lights

note: day 2 of reidrumas! this is so sickeningly cheesy pls enjoy <3

summary: in which spencer has to remind you of fire safety, or the time you hang too many lights on the christmas tree

cw: tooth rotting fluff i only warn you to pop some lactaids if you're lactose intolerant

wc: a cozy 1k

12 days of reidrumas

“I can’t believe we’re going to die before Christmas.”

You roll your eyes, “Aren’t you from Vegas? This amount of lights should not phase you.”

“I am, and you know those lights typically aren’t hung on flammable surfaces.” Spencer harps, “Please don’t put that—Oh my god, Where the hell did you get another strand of lights.”

You love Christmas. Spencer loves you. It was a no brainer for him to let you take over all of the holiday decorating festivities. He knew that Christmas was always special to a littler version of you, the joy and love that surrounded the holiday always warming your little heart. But as the years went on you would find yourself associating the crueler parts of your life with the holiday, and it would end with you looking back on the time and finding its memories to be not as magical as you would like to remember. Spencer was determined to restore that sentiment for you.

He’s just not sure if he’d risk death by string lights to get there.

“It’s not bright enough,” you pout, “maybe it needs more tinsel.”

The tree was already donned in all its opaque and crystalline ornaments, beaded and foiled tinsel draped around its branches. The tree already came with flashing lights, white and multicolored, but they weren’t nearly enough for the brightness you required. So of course it needed more lights.

“It definitely does not need more tinsel. Come on, put the lights down.”

You retract the lights in your hands to your chest defensively, “Don’t! You’ll have to pry them from my cold, dead hands.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows at your theatrics, “Oh, really?”

You nod, “The Christmas spirit is only as strong as the lights hung in its name.”

“Who said that?”

“Someone really wise.”

“Surely can’t be you,” he chuckles, “We can put them somewhere else just not on the tree, it already has enough.”

You shake your head no and clutch the lights closer to your chest, “Never!”

“There’s so much space on the fireplace or the dining table!” he gestures, “even the front door!”

“I have separate lights for those, duh.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Oh my god, we’re actually gonna die.”

“Dying of the Christmas spirit is actually a great way to go.” you joke, “Prophetic, even.”

He stalks towards you slowly, “My love, please. Can we negotiate?”

“Spencer, I have to use all of the lights or they’re gonna feel left out.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between you both, staring at each other from opposite sides of the couch. You study the look in his eyes, unable to decipher what he’s thinking. The corners of his mouth twitch slightly, and to anyone else they wouldn’t have caught it but he is Your Spencer after all and so it really should not have caught you off guard when he makes a break to catch you.

You squeal as you take off running into the kitchen, Spencer trailing not so far behind you. He’s cornered you on the far side of the middle kitchen counter, prepared for any direction you decide to make your exit from. You try to fake him out by pretending to go one way and then making a quick escape the other way, just barely making it past him as you book it down the hallway.

You slow down at the end of the hallway, thinking you’ve finally made it to safety. You bend over slightly to catch your breath when it’s suddenly whisked away again as strong hands catch you off guard, gripping your waist and picking you up from the floor.

“Hey!” you giggle, feigning struggle in his arms.

He whispers in your ear, “Gotcha.”

The flutter in your stomach betrays your tone, “I think you hate Christmas.”

His hands tighten around you as he sets you down, not letting go, “I don’t hate Christmas, I actually love it very much. I love you much more, and I would like to spend as many Christmases as I can with you. I can’t do that if the lights burn us down, sweet girl.”

You huff in fake annoyance, you know he’s right but he doesn’t need to know that. Begrudgingly, you can admit to yourself that the tree may have enough lights. You’re honestly surprised how he didn’t make a joke about how the International Space Station could see your tree from all the way up there. Your eyes flit around the room looking for a good place to hang the string lights in your hands.

Your face lights up with an idea, “You know what I think really needs a touch of the holiday spirit?” you carefully drape the lights around his whole body and plug it into a nearby outlet and smile, “Ah, perfect.”

The lights illuminate the shape of his body from head to toe, casting a soft glow that only seems to glow brighter as Spencer tries to hide a smile and fails miserably, resulting in the most adorable and dorky face you’ve ever seen.

He glances down at the outlet, “Am I not allowed to move?”

You put your finger on your chin, “Hmm…”

“What if I make us hot chocolate?”

You walk towards him gently draping your arms around his neck, “I don’t know…”

“With peppermint?”

Intrigued, the ghost of a smile teases your face, “I’m listening…”

He sighs and rests his hands on your hips, “We can put on matching pajamas?”

You beam widely, “Okay, I’m sold. Just wanted to see how far you’d go.” You detach from him giddily, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and running off to the kitchen to get the mugs ready.

Spencer unplugs himself and walks into the bedroom,  rummaging through the dresser drawers to get the pajamas for you both. He chuckles to himself thinking how you were testing him to see how far he’d go, and you didn’t even know the full extent of exactly how far that is. His hand brushes over the velvet box buried beneath his mismatched socks and hopes that you’ll test the full extent soon.

Until then, he’ll make sure to keep you safe from festive fire hazards and satiated with peppermint hot cocoa.

[xoxochb]

— sea pearls ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♪ ༘⋆ on the radio… love song by lana del rey !

warnings: lowkey I pulled this outta my ass, fluff, tbh soft! rafe, kissinnnn, language, edging on smut-ish, implications to sex, and a possibility for a part 2 w smut pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ🪸࿔*:･

“I found another one, here.”

you pick up a white pearl from within the damp sand, letting the ocean waves wash off all the excess dirtiness from the pretty sea object. once clean, you place it in the palm of your hand and examine it attentively. you hum contently and hand it to your boyfriend who holds the rest of your collection.

“how many more of these do ya need?”

you ponder for a moment. “a few. I think.”

you bend back down and run your fingers along the sand, sticking them inside to find any pearls beneath what you can see. you find two this time, repeating the same process by washing them off and handing them to rafe who drops a few in the process, hands too full of the others.

“shit,” he murmurs. you pout realizing you had lost a few of your absolutely vital pearls. he attempts to pick up a few, only getting three of them though. “I think this is enough.”

“okay…” you stand up and take a last glance to the ocean floor before turning back to rafe who is trying to keep up with the armful of pearls. “okay, let’s go back. we’ll come back later.”

slowly you make your way back to the sandy portion of the beach, plopping down on your plethora of towels. rafe follows close behind with your pearls, you hold a bag up for him to drop all of them in before he sits down beside you.

you move your wet hair out of your face and take a look in the bag where you have a decent collection of sea pearls. you smile gingerly. and take a handful of them, just feeling. “I’ll probably be able to make a few bracelets with these. maybe a necklace if I have any leftover.”

“what about the shells you got earlier?”

“they’re just for decoration.”

rafe nods understandingly despite not understanding why you collected such objects only to leave them around your house. regardless, he would support your hobby greatly.

“c’mere, sweetheart.” he takes one of your hands away from the bag’s strap, using it to guide you towards him.

you don’t fight his advances, letting him grab your waist and pull you to his lap, moving your arms to wrap lazily over his shoulders. he pecks your forehead delicately.

“what are ya doing, ray?”

“nothin’ just be your pretty self.”

his lips trail from your forehead to your nose, tracing the length of it before pecking your cupid’s bow and then ultimately claiming your lips with his own. he tastes like the sea, salty and inviting, you savor that.

“mhmmm, ray…” your voice comes out half giggly.

“sweetheart…” peck, peck, peck.

“whatcha— mphm— doing?”

“kissin’—” kiss. “my girl. mhm, pretty girl.”

your tummy feels fluttery. you let him do just that.

rafe’s hands trail the skin of your bare waist, and looping around the waistband of your bikini bottoms, tugging at them gently. you deepen each kiss, placing the palm of your head on the back of his head to push his lips nearly impossibly closer to yours.

his tongue runs along your bottom lip— most likely tasting the same as his from when he dunked you underneath the water a relentless amount of times throughout the afternoon— it’s a silent way of asking for inside access to your mouth.

which you oblige to, resorting to open-mouthed kisses so his tongue can tangle with your own and explore your mouth as if he’s never done it before, which is a lie because he has plenty.

you want to start giggling uncontrollably, perhaps kick your feet and skip across the sand. you let your internal senses do that for you as you wish never to part your lips from rafe as he practically devours your mouth with his own.

you feel as his hands slide back up to your waist, holding it tightly as he guides the both of you to lay, your back against the towel and rafe on top of you, better access to your mouth as he kisses you.

you hum into his mouth as his fingers find your bottoms again, twirling the straps around them and very agonizingly slow rate, sliding them down your droplet-veiled legs. you finish for him and kick the remainder off with your feet.

you must say now, this is far more enticing than collecting pearls all afternoon!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

NHL!Rafe x WAG!Reader smut coming tomorrow! <- Jealous!Reader, Rafe is down bad. Lots of make up sex. 🤭💕😘

+18 Wildly Unedited

(Update: Sister’sBF!Rafe x Twin!Reader coming Monday and CollegeHockey!Rafe x College Reader dropping on Christmas)

Tonight, you didn’t even wait for him to shower and change. You needed your space—space to stew in your anger without him explaining it away.

Rafe Cameron was on your shit list.

When you got home, you went to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of red wine. Your guilt started to creep in as you briefly talked yourself off the ledge. It was harmless… He would never do anything, I know… You’re being irrational… Just let it go…

The TV was still playing from before you left, ESPN highlights rolling across your screen. And then there it was again… It was like the universe just wanted you to lose your shit.

The camera lingered a second too long on him as he skated toward the bench. The moment you couldn’t get out of your head, played on a loop for the entire country to see. You grabbed the remote and rewound it, watching it again. And again. Each time, your anger flaring hotter.

How could he? How could he smile at her when I was right there?

Clink.

You sat unmoved, wine in hand, as you heard Rafe's key pull out of the door, the hardware of his creaking open slowly.

“Baby?” Rafe’s voice was soft, hesitant. He knew me well enough to sense the storm brewing even before he saw you.

You stay silent, eyes set on the screen, taking a sip of wine with the highlights paused and ready. Rafe pokes his head around the corner before he steps in the doorway. His big body takes up the frame—settling on wearing his game-day suit instead of his typical post-game sweatpants and sweatshirt, hoping that maybe that would buy him some grace, knowing you can’t keep your hand off him dressed like that.

He walks a little closer—a bouquet in one hand, a bottle of your favorite wine tucked under his big arm, and his other hand clutching your favorite dessert from that restaurant you love. His expression’s contrite; he smiles nervously. This man is hell on the ice… But now, he looks like he might crack under your gaze.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he says softly as he sets down the gifts, sinking into the couch next to you. “I… I—Uh… I thought I’d bring you these.”

You glance at the offerings, your sharp eyes returning to the TV.

“Are you mad, princess?” He asks though the answer is crystal clear.

God, he can’t be this fuckin’ dumb.

[nosyrobin]

WATERBORNE

SUMMARY: a young waterbender who appears in Gotham gets the attention of a few birds a big bat. But one bird seems more interested than the others. Leaving them to be captured.

PAIRS||Yandere! Tim drake & Platonic Yandere!Batfam x Waterbender!Reader

“Nah fuck that!” Y/n yells, they immediately arises both of their arms. Water moves with the flow of his arms in the sewer. A figure with a big blue on his chest steps back. Eyes widen at rings of water surrounding the small bender. “You’re not taking me alive dick head!” Nightwing, aka Dick Grayson, nervously chuckles while putting his hands up.

“Aw cmon, how did you know my name—”

Immediately the vigilante gets hit with a wave of water, knocked onto his back by the pressure. Nightwing soon sits up coughing, shocked by the pressure knocking him back a few feet. He hasn’t even notice the hydro power house had taken off before he shook his head. Y/n, running with only an over coat and work out sneakers. They didn’t wish for these powers, they didn’t wish to be found. They didn’t wish to be anyone’s obsession! Nightwing finally got his bearings minutes later. “Damnit..” Nightwing puts two fingers to his ear, pressing down he talks.

“They’re on the run again. Tim it’s your turn.” Nightwing opened up a hologram map of the tunnels from his forearm.

“Got it.” Says another voice.

And that was Tim drake, aka Red Robin. Tim nods at the sound coming from his coms. He also had his map up as he readied his bow staff. It was electrified on the tip of it, ready to stun the young bender. He stopped pulling the map up when hearing loud footsteps and heavy breathing.

Tim grips his bow staff, leaning Against the side wall, he gets ready to swing only for him to drop his staff. He dropped it with a loud clank! There stood the hydro power house, y/n. Y/n had anger in their eyes as the other was engulfed by a hand shaped of water. Y/n held one hand out. “Won’t you damn people leave me alone?!” Tim tries to get out of the water, only for it to tighten. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m in no need for help. I don’t need anyone! I don’t need you, or anything!”

Tim frowns, he knew the water bender needed help. He looked about his age. Seventeen. Y/n look fatigue, not enough on their bones, messy hair, baggy eyes with reddish eyes. Before Tim could speak, he couldn’t even try.

Instantly the water bender swung their hand harshly, making Tim hit the other side of the tunnel harshly. A crack was dented there with Tim’s body. The young boy fell onto his stomach, groaning in pain. He tries to stand before gushes of water hits him, over, and over again.

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Y/n swung their hand, it was a undertossing motion as if throwing back a baseball. Y/n kept walking towards their enemy, each swing gets harsher and harsher. Tim tries to take a deep breath, but he’s practically drowning. He lays unconscious now, y/n breaths heavily. Their arms weak, sore, tired. His breathing starts to slow down, but not in the way he wants.

He leans against a wall, balling up his hands.

“Why..why am I so tired. My eyes, they’re heavy. What the hell??”

Y/N’s vision is slowly turning black, not noticing Tim standing up. Smiling widely as he walks towards the drugged water bender. “I see the narcotic worked.” Y/n tried to move their dominant arm, only to just stay limp. “What…did you do to me..”

Tim frowns, leaning towards the waterbender. “What I had to do. You need my help. You need me.” A sick grin reaches the boy’s face as Tim cups the hydro’s face. Y/n glare harshly at Tim who could only smile.

“You.. you and your damn hero complex! You should drown, drown like anyone that dare try to capture me!” Anger filled y/n’s soul. But Tim ignored it, seeing this aggression as a result of not being able to save them earlier. Tim frowns and lifts y/n over his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m here now, The others and Batman will help you! You won’t need to survive anywhere else.” Tim says lastly as the anesthesia kicks in fully now. Knocked out over the teen boy’s shoulder, the boy couldn’t help but smile more. When his bow staff fell, it released the drug only for you to specifically breathe in. And it worked perfectly, just like Tim knew it would.

You were now, captured.

A/N: Ayo new series? Jk.. or maybe not? Anyone wants this to continue or what? Cause I actually enjoyed writing this

[theartofwoompwoomp]

I never knew we could coexist together 

Shadow x reader

Summary : shadow is surprised to learns that humans understand grief. And he learns it from the human that’s the most tolerable and happiest in his life. 

———————————————————————

“Do you really think you could ever understand.” 

His voice ragged and tight from the anger. There’s no way anyone could understand what he lost. Especially not you…

You have everything. A happy family, friends, a place in this world. 

 he had nothing…

Sure others may have accepted him, yet it has never been the same and it hasn’t ever taken the pain.

Someone as happy as you wouldn’t and shouldn’t ever understand his pain. 

His grip getting tighter in his hand, he can feel himself shaking a bit as he lowers his eyes to the ground.

He feels bad for snapping at you. He wasn’t expecting to have all his pent up anger explode on you. Finally the shame starts crawling it’s way and he was getting ready to leave. He didn’t want to see your face.

Not right now, when he feels so angry with you even though you’re the only one thats stuck around. 

All his emotions are spinning all over his head just waiting for another opportunity to explode, and he does not want you to be at the end of it.

Without saying anything else, he keeps his head down as he turns to leave. 

But just as he’s a few steps away his are is pulled back quite forcefully towards you again.

“What do you think you’re doing—“

You hugged him.

Holding tight making sure you won’t let go of him. He tenses a bit not fully processing what you’re doing. 

Why are still trying? Why do you still care even if he hurt you? He doesn’t deserve you.

Before he realizes it, he’s holding you close as well. 

Nothing is said between either of you, he’s simply shaking a bit in your arms as you rub his back a bit.

Memories come back to him. Those of maria, his actions, and of you.

Small tears roll down his cheeks but he could care less at the moment. “It hurts.” His voice broken and tired from all the pain that never goes away.

You hugged him a bit tighter as you whisper a bit into his ears, “I know shads, i know.” Not daring to let go or abandon him in this moment, you wait it out. Feeling your own tears slowly dropping as well as his cries intensify.

He feels like he just got ran over, but at least you’re still there, holding him. Both of you more calmed down from the whole ordeal. 

He finally decides to let go from your embrace and you let him. 

He sits on the ground and you follow along and sit next to him. Just waiting to see who’ll be the first to speak.

Surprisingly after a few minutes shadow softly starts speaking, “i don’t want to talk about it.” His brows furrow a bit, “i appreciate your kindness, but I don’t like speaking about my pain.” 

He feels you caress his hand. “That’s okay,” holding it firmly when turns it offering you to continue your action of affection, “i understand that pain can be hard to share.”

He turns to see you, eyes glazing over you face wondering what ever could have caused you pain to make that expression.

“You might be surprised but humans suffer from many things. Some of us are just a little better at pretending nothing’s wrong.” 

“Doesn’t it hurt to do that?”

You look over, seeing his worry through his eyes. “Of course it does. Suffering is always painful.” Your eyes and hands never leaving one another. Sharing more emotions this way than any words could describe.

You lean a bit onto him, “but you know,” he reciprocates as you continue, “i think that’s a reason why there’s so many of us in the first place. Maybe so we could  help each other through the pain… it’s too bad many seem forget the value of this”

He shifts a bit as he feels you move again. This time you’re kneeling a bit in front of him. 

“That’s why I’m so glad that I at least have you in my life.”

His heart twinges a bit, feeling guilty for trying to ever push you away. And you notice it before he even says anything.

“Please don’t shut me out,” you’re hugging him again.

And he hugs you back, holding you softly as he feels your breath on his shoulder. Your actions and words melting all the doubt and numbing the pain. He’s comforted knowing that you’re not going nowhere, staying right there with him.

“Im glad that it’s you, and not anyone else at my side.” 

———————————————————————

masterlist

[ang3lofdivinity]

𓏲๋࣭ 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗈𝗎🫧˖°

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso(slightly yandere)!Fem!Reader (romantic)

Genre :: Fluff! And LOTS, LOTTTSSS of angst.

Format :: Oneshot / story

Warnings :: spoilers for season 2 of Arcane, even more trauma than last time!!, death mentions, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - takes her place essentially, Reader leans towards being more yandere (possessive and obsessive over Jinx), Jinx still has some remaining feelings for Ekko, but eventually gives up once again, heavily inspired by Jorge’s “Love In Paradise” + “Not Sorry For Loving You”, Reader is not toxic like Calypso in either of those songs! A bunch of time skips for a few, VERY LONG (I had to split this up into another part dude..), slight imitation to SH? Nothing explicitly stated

A/N :: AAA I actually am very surprised that “Stuck In Paradise” (be sure to read it first! None of this will really make any sense if you don’t read the first part of this!) kinda blew up! + all of the nice comments. TYSM GUYS FOR YOUR SUPPORT, GENUINELY. (I saw 1.9% of you say no btw 🤨). I hope this lives up to your expectations!! (W.C: 9.2k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

The days and weeks slipped by in a surreal, dreamlike rhythm for Jinx and you, as if time itself had softened around the edges. Life had never felt this way before; unpredictable yet strangely comforting. You had long resigned yourself to solitude, believing you’d never see another human face again. The gods would probably be tired of seeing so many arrive on your island by pure coincidence and then immediately leaving once they had the chance to. They might as well have put another spell on your island so that nobody else would’ve been able to end up here.

Isolation had become your norm. Your reality.

And then Jinx arrived, shattering that reality you’d become so used to.

She was different. The others who had stumbled upon this forsaken island before her had always left the moment they had gotten the opportunity by the gods themselves, abandoning you to your endless exile. They were fleeting, shadows passing through your life and leaving you to rot.

With one of those sailors? You’d once gotten so attached. Too attached

And then they left you…

Everyone who ever appeared on this island - besides yourself - disappeared within a few weeks.

But Jinx?

She stayed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had someone who cared for you.

Even in the loneliness of this place, you weren’t truly alone anymore.

Over time, the two of you began to grow closer, spending hours together in quiet conversation or companionable silence. You were drawn to her sharp edges and fragile strength, and she—though unaccustomed to such things—found herself drawn to your unwavering care. Jinx wasn’t used to safety or protection. The idea of someone looking out for her was.. odd, almost unsettling.

But with you? She was beginning to understand what it felt like to be safe, to not have to look over her shoulder at every corner she turned due to the hostility of those living within the Undercity.

And for you, her presence was a revelation. You loved the sound of her voice, the unexpected humor that flickered through her words during such moments, and the way she slowly let down her guard. There was something healing in her company, something that made the world feel just a little less broken.

For now, the gods seemed to have turned their attention elsewhere, leaving you both in a rare state of peace. This was especially important to you, given the fact you would now be able to relax without their constant nagging or their interferences annoying you, you were free to simply be—to sit together by the fire, to explore the island, to share the small joys of this strange life you’d come to know.

You couldn’t say what the future held, but for now, you had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

.

"Pixie, you're doing it wrong," you said, trying to stifle your giggles as Jinx dangled a net precariously over the water.. and herself.

As for what you both were doing? Well, trying to catch fish! You wanted to create a meal with them eventually, but realized you had begun to run out. So, you told Jinx you were going to be out for a while and collect some fish - to which she ecstatically mentioned she wanted to come with you and try to catch some fish herself.

And how could you say no?

So, you let her tag along.

"What do you mean wrong??" Jinx shot back, mock offense dripping from her tone. She wobbled slightly, balancing on the rocks near the ocean. It's painfully clear that she never has done anything like this before in her life.

“You throw the net in, you pull it out. Boom, fish!”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"Except the part where the fish actually stay in the net? You know, the most important part?”

"That's an unimportant detail,” Jinx muttered, grinning.

“Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?!” With a sudden movement, she swung the net dramatically, trying to make some sort of cool entertainment for you (something that seemed like an attempt at a handstand)!- ...only for the net to snag on a rock behind her. The momentum of the action sent her sprawling backwards into the shallow water with a loud splash, causing some of the sand and most of the rocks to become wet.

You immediately gasped at the sight, filled with worry as your first thoughts were filled with those of ‘is she okay!?’ ‘Is she hurt!?’.

Then, she sat up from where she’d fallen, net surrounding her within the water as she spat out a bunch of water - almost like that of a waterfall.

This made your concern dissolve into laughter.

“Oh, gods! Jinx, are you okay?" You managed to speak between fits of laughter, rushing closer to where the bluette fell.

Sitting up in the water, Jinx blinked, hair plastered to her face as she turned to look up at you.

"I'm just testing the water quality, obviously." She muttered, clearly salty about her failed trick. And you giggled a bit more about the entire ordeal before finally regaining your composure and clearing your throat.

You extended a hand to help her up, but it seems like Jinx had some other plans in mind for you!

With a mischievous grin, she yanked you into the water beside her.

"AA!! JINXX!" You squealed as the cold water soaked your clothes as you were splashed from the impact. You sat up, moving some hair out of your face before you quickly splashed Jinx in retaliation with a giggle, to which she happily returned with a splash towards you of her own.

By the end of the "fishing trip," you had caught exactly zero fish but had tears of laughter streaming down both of your faces.

You really should take her with you more to catch fish. Though, maybe focus more on the task?..

Nevertheless, you both eventually got out of the water, completely drenched from head to toe. But neither of you minded, given the stupid smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“I’ll let you take a bath first. I’ll take care of your clothes.” You gently patted the damp hair atop Jinx’s head, to which she playfully scoffed at.

You didn’t even notice before - but her hair had grown a bit from the first time you’d met her, her electric blue hair now reaching the base of her neck.

“You want me to cut your hair soon?” You inquired on the walk back with her, dragging the net alongside you as she nodded, grinning ever so slightly. And for the rest of the walk back to the palace, you both let the comforting silence linger between the two of you.

The two of you should do this more often..

After returning from the fishing trip and ensuring Jinx was settled for her bath, you take her wet clothes along with your own upon changing into a robe to clean them so they are clean for the next morning while grabbing some of your own clean clothes: a pair for her and a pair for you.

Returning back to the parlor, you begin to fold up a clean set of your own clothes for her to wear, and as you do so - the memories of the evening bring a smile to your face. Jinx’s laughter, her grin, and the way she seemed so carefree during the trip.. it’s rare to see her like that.

You set the clothes you had grabbed for her on a small table outside the bathroom with a light knock on the door before retreating to the kitchen to give her privacy.

By the time Jinx emerges and finds you returning to the parlor, her damp hair towel-dried and her face flushed from the warm bath, you’re preparing your own turn to clean yourself off. She’s wearing your clothes that you prepped outside (which is similar to that of what you gave her when she first arrived here): an oversized shirt and some loose, comfortable shorts, looking surprisingly at ease despite the borrowed attire.

“These are comfy,” she says, tugging at the fabric with a grin.

“Though. I’m still the one with style.” She proudly proclaims, hands on her hips.

You laugh at her comment before turning on your heel to look at her.

“Right, because soaking wet and covered in sand is the pinnacle of fashion?”

Jinx sticks her tongue out at you in response before speaking up again.

“Says the one who’ll be looking like a prune after a bath!” She flops dramatically onto the couch, draping herself across it.

“You better hurry up, Trinket. The night’s still young, and I’m not done hanging out with you yet.”

You giggle at her words for a moment before you slip away for your own bath, the warmth of the water washing away the chill of the evening and the lingering bits of sand stuck to your skin.

As you take your time, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, rubbing the conditioner in your hair - you find your thoughts drifting to Jinx—her laugh, her little playful banter with you, the way she seems so at home with you despite how chaotic she usually acts around you. It’s oddly refreshing to see her in such a state.

Eventually, you finish cleaning yourself, draining the water from your bath and drying yourself upon getting out of the tub. You take your time to brush out your damp hair, change into the fresh clothes you had gotten for yourself, making sure you look at least decent before placing your robe on a small rack for later use.

Then, you return to the parlor, just to find Jinx sprawled across the couch, idly tinkering with some small gadget she must’ve grabbed from her stash.

The moment she sees you she perks up, fixing her position on the couch.

“Took you long enough!” she teased you, patting the spot next to her.

“C’mon, sit down. I’m not gonna bite!”

“..much.” You roll your eyes at her comment but take the seat right next to her.

The quiet hum of the room settling over you both. The late-night air is cool, and the faint sounds of the trees slightly swaying from side to side to the gentle breeze is a comforting sound you’d long gotten accustomed to listening for.

And when you least expect it (given she’s never done anything like this before) — Jinx leans her head against your shoulder.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now.

“Today was fun. Stupid, messy, and fishless, but fun.”

You smile as a small giggle leaves your mouth, resting your head lightly against hers.

“Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely,” she murmurs, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. (You cannot deny the heat warming your cheeks, and the way your heart skips a beat).

“But next time, I’m catching something. I’m not letting those fish laugh at me again.” You chuckle softly at her little comment before closing your eyes as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

The night stretches on, peaceful and easy, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a little while.

Right now?

It’s just you and Jinx.

Though you’ll have to rest shortly, you can take some time to simply relax with the person you care most about.

Jinx was utterly spent.

The day had been physically demanding, given from the few inventions she had begun in the morning, to helping you clean around the palace, to the fishing trip outside.

But even with all of the exhaustion.. it was still strangely peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, she almost forgot about the chaos and pain of her past.

Almost.

When she returned to her room, she slumped onto the bed without much thought. Her eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was a complicated thing for her.

The echoes of past memories, the ones she’d never fully escaped, and even the simple fact that she barely ever even got sleep when she was working under Silco or him.

Those memories always lingered just on the edge of her consciousness. It was always hard to tell if they’d leave her be or drag her into nightmares.

Tonight, though, her body gave in quicker than her mind could protest. She drifted off in an awkward position: one arm dangling off the bed, legs tangled together, and her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a sore neck in the morning.

However.. you were there, no?

You slowly peeked into Jinx’s room.

You hesitated in the doorway, biting your bottom lip, debating with yourself whether you should go in. It’s invasive and incredibly weird— but.. you just need to make sure she’s safe. Your heart raced as it always did when you checked on Jinx, a habit you’ve grown.

You’ve gotten too attached to the bluette to allow anything horrible to happen to her, so you’ve made it a routine to check in on her every so often. Most times after she had fallen asleep. On those nights where she hadn’t rested still for whatever reason, you made your nighttime visits clear to her as you just worried about her well being.

Of course you never told her you did it every night, you simply told her it was because you could clearly hear her being restless - which thankfully convinced her.

You felt bad about lying to her.. but it felt weird enough that you were doing this.

Stepping inside, you made sure your footsteps were gentle and quiet so as to not alarm Jinx. The soft glow of moonlight spilling in from the window illuminating Jinx’s peaceful but slightly uncomfortable looking form.

Seeing the bluette sprawled out, you couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape past your lips.

How does she even manage to sleep like that?

Finally making your way over to the side of the bed, you knelt beside the bed, carefully lifting Jinx’s arm and tucking it back onto the mattress. You also adjusted Jinx’s legs so they were more relaxed and less twisted.

Of course—not in a violating or weird way, as uncouth as these actions might seem. You’re doing it to make her comfortable! Not to be a creep!

And finally, you slowly pulled the extra blanket over Jinx.

The entire time, your heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness upon seeing the sight. Seeing the chaotic woman you’d grown so fond of finally relaxed and asleep.

Though once Jinx was tucked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave immediately.

So, you lingered at the edge of the bed, your eyes tracing the lines of Jinx’s face. The bluette looked so peaceful in sleep, so vulnerable and far removed from the sharp edges and guarded demeanor she carried when awake, especially when she’d first arrived here on Ogygia. She seemed so harsh, so on guard twenty-four seven!

But could you blame her? Of course not.

Nearly everyone who came before her was exactly the same.

Though just as you had begun thinking of a multitude of other things — there’s something that got you out of your thoughts: upon closer inspection, Jinx had a stray piece of hair covering her face in a rather.. odd way. It was almost going into her mouth.

…

You hesitated before leaning closer, your fingers trembling as you brushed the stray piece of hair behind her ear and away from Jinx’s face.

However, as you did so - the bluette shifted slightly.

Oh gods, was she going to wake up!? Was she going to see you here acting like some sort of stalker!?

Your breath hitched, adrenaline coursing through you until —

..she didn’t wake.

You let out a relieved sigh upon figuring out she was simply stirring within her sleep, your fingers lingering near Jinx’s cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

Then before you finally decided to leave, you whispered softly, almost too quiet to be heard, even by yourself.

“I won’t let anything happen to you… I promise.”

Finally, you stood, your eyes lingering on Jinx one last time before you turned and slipped out of the room.

You closed the door silently behind you and pressed your back against it, exhaling deeply.

Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange, bittersweet comfort in this late night ritual of yours.

You knew you were becoming too attached to her. You knew this wasn’t entirely normal. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself. Jinx had become her whole world—and you were terrified of losing that world of yours once again.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

..

"I’m telling you, this is gonna be the best sandcastle," Jinx declared, crouching down low to pat a misshapen lump of sand into shape once more, grinning with delight at her creation.

You, seated a few feet away and meticulously crafting spires and arches, glanced over at Jinx’s work. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the bluette. It’s not you being rude! It’s just… you cannot tell what she's even making anymore. She started off decent at the beginning of your little trip here - to which she suggested in the first place, and it now… kinda collapsed!

"Uh-huh. And what exactly is that supposed to be?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow before returning to look down at your sandcastle, fixing every little detail as meticulously as possible.

This is a lot more fun than you’d anticipated..

After all, you were once so focused on wallowing within your sorrow, never finding the time to genuinely appreciate any of the fun activities you could have here on the island. I mean, you were trapped here - why would you ever want to get comfortable with your surroundings if you were here unwillingly and hated every minute of it?

But with Jinx around?

It definitely makes it worth it..

"It’s a fortress, obviously!" Jinx replied indignantly at your inquiry as if it was some sort of offense, gesturing at the uneven walls.

“Gotta be ready for a sand invasion."

You shook your head before looking down at your own sandcastle, trying to hide your smile from the bluette.

"Well, I hope your fortress is sturdy, because my castle is going to outshine it in every way."

"Oh, it’s a competition now?" Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed a handful of wet sand and launched it in your direction. It splattered harmlessly against the ground near you!

"Jinx!" You gasped, pretending to be scandalized by the sudden bold action of the woman. You eventually retaliated with your own handful of sand, carefully aiming so it landed just shy of Jinx’s leg. Of course, just because you didn’t want to get her dirty once again, nor did you want to get dirty with sand. That stuff is horrible to get out! (Though, you probably won’t be able to avoid that)

The "sandcastle competition" quickly devolved into a full-blown sand fight, both of you laughing so hard you both could barely breathe as you launched sand ball after sand ball of each other, even getting up from where you were seated and rushing around the shore of the beach of your island.

When you both finally collapsed in the sand, covered in grit and panting from laughter, you glanced over at Jinx, your expression softening at the sight of her being so happy.

It filled your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that never seemed to truly go away. Hell, every time you saw her it would fill your chest with that odd feeling, one you could not figure out for the life of you.

But.. it wasn’t unwelcome.

"You’re trouble," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from the bluette’s face.

"Yeah," Jinx replied, grinning up at the sky.

"But you like it."

You could stay like this forever..

Later on upon cleaning each other up from the small sand fight the both of you had - you found yourselves simply sitting together on the cliff near the palace, letting the rhythm of the waves surrounding the island and the chirping of the birds fluttering on fill the silence.

Jinx leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched the sunset. The warm hues of orange and pink bathed the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your heart definitely skipped a couple of beats, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you tried to remain calm in this situation.

For once? She seemed completely at peace.

You didn’t dare move of course, afraid that even the smallest shift might disturb the moment. So instead, you let your gaze drift over Jinx’s profile, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

"Do you ever think about what’s out there?" Jinx asked suddenly, her voice soft.

"Out where?" You replied, tilting your head slightly.

"Out there," Jinx repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon of your island.

"The people, the places. Everything I left behind."

Your expression grew somber at the mention, turning your gaze to look back over the horizon.

You haven’t left this island for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like out there. So many things have changed, but this little island of yours stayed the same, unchanging until Jinx arrived.

“Do you regret it?"

Jinx was quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking about your words.

“Sometimes. I think about my sister, Violet or— Vi. About how I left her to scream and cry.”

"And then other times, I think about Ekko. About what could’ve been."

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“But then I think about how it’d all probably go wrong anyway."

You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand gently over Jinx’s.

"You don’t have to run from it, you know." You turned your head once more, gazing down at Jinx as she rested upon your shoulder.

Then, Jinx turned to look at you, your faces closer than either of you realized.

“And what about you? You don’t run from anything?"

Your smile was faint but tinged with sadness.

"I’ve been running for a long time." You let out a small giggle, trying to make light out of the dark situation.

Your gazes lingered, unspoken words wishing to be said. But before either of you could say anything more, Jinx leaned back, breaking the moment.

“..I’m gonna go inside.”

And then she finally arose from the spot on the cliff before walking off, leaving to your lonesome once more.

As the days blended into weeks, and you found yourself tethered to Jinx in ways that… terrified you as much as they comforted you.

At first, it was innocent—a lingering glance here, a brush of your fingers there. But soon, it became something more consuming, an ache that twisted in your chest every time Jinx so much as wandered out of sight. (You don’t understand this. You hate it, but you love it because it makes you.. happy).

During the day, you were never far from Jinx’s side. Wherever Jinx went, you followed, often under the pretense of needing to “check on her.” Whether it was a quiet walk along the shoreline or a shared meal, your presence was a constant.

You insisted on carrying Jinx’s tools when she tinkered, your hands brushing against Jinx’s at every opportunity. You lingered in every hug that Jinx had finally submitted to, holding on just a little too long, your fingers tightening as if letting go might cause Jinx to vanish.

And at night? The same ritual would happen as you remembered. You tiptoed to Jinx’s room, your bare feet silent against the cool flooring of your palace. You’d push the door open just enough to peek inside, your gaze softening at the sight of Jinx sprawled out on the bed, her breathing deep and even.

You couldn’t help yourself.

You’d creep closer, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of blue hair from Jinx’s face, or even simply just fixing her position on the bed so she would be more comfortable and not have a horrible ache within her neck. Your heart would flutter at the faintest smile that graced the sleeping woman’s lips. Satisfied, you would then retreat to your own room, but sleep never came easily after.

The worry, the need to ensure Jinx was still there, always tugged at your mind.

So many have left you, hurt you, vanished before your very eyes due to the powers of the gods above as they cursed you for everything you’d done. Cursed you to this island.

But not this time.

Jinx will stay. You’re SURE of it!

Not only that: but hand-holding became as natural as breathing, your own fingers always lacing through Jinx’s whenever you both walked together. Jinx didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to enjoy the closeness!

The idea of Jinx leaving was unbearable. You couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Jinx’s arrival, the way your heart had soared for the first time in a century. You’d been so alone for so long, her only companions being the unchanging skies, the shining sun, and the whispering wind. Everyone left you, abandoned you to nothing because they HATED you. Hated you for what you’d done, for everything you had done.

Your fear of being alone forever became overwhelming after the last being had left your little island over a few years ago.

Now?

Jinx has become your entire world.

“You okay there, trinket?” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at Jinx for far too long.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jinx teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Usually, you’re fussing over me by now.”

“Hey! I’m not fussing,” you stammered, furrowing your brows.

“I’m just… making sure you’re okay. You have a horrible tendency to get hurt, you know!”

Jinx chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“You worry too much, trinket. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were meant to reassure, but they struck you like a dagger.

The promise of permanence felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. And you would not let that happen. Not now, not ever.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But the fear remained within you, gnawing at your mind non-stop.

As the days after passed, your behavior only intensified. You found yourself tracing Jinx’s movements, memorizing the way her hair caught the sunlight, the sound of her laugh, the curve of her smile. You cataloged every detail, desperate to hold onto the pieces of Jinx that made you feel alive.

Your need for Jinx’s presence grew insatiable, and while Jinx didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t mind, and you began to feel the weight of your own desperation. It wasn’t fair to Jinx, this suffocating need to keep her close, but you couldn’t stop yourself. After all, how could you, when Jinx was the only light in a world that had been so dark for so long? When everyone had chosen to leave you upon hearing the god’s messengers give them the opportunity.

Yet this woman didn’t.

She never left you!!

So, why wouldn’t you grow overprotective?

And as you sat together while watching the sunset, you couldn’t resist resting your head on Jinx’s shoulder, like she’d done a while ago. Your heart pounded as you felt Jinx relax into the gesture, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Pixie,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Jinx’s breath hitched. She wanted to say something, to confess the depths of her feelings, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply tightened her grip on your hand, praying that the moment wouldn’t end.

But deep down, she knew that she couldn’t keep living in fear. Something would have to give: whether it was her unspoken feelings or the fragile balance of your relationship.

This has become out of control.

You’ve become insane, haven’t you??

I mean- at first, Jinx didn’t even notice the depth of your little obsession. She’d connect the clinginess as an endearing gesture, even comforting. A gesture that you were fully trusting her now. Jinx had always been starved for affection herself, and your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx.. began to feel smothered.

The amount of you can recount that you’d stepped out of line made you feel sick the more you thought about it.

Like, even though this was unintentional, you had begun to subtly discourage Jinx from exploring the island on her own. Every time Jinx suggested going off by herself, you'd find excuses to tag along or subtly guilt-trip convince her into staying.

“I thought we could spend the day together. Aren’t I enough company?”

Your nightly checks had grown more intrusive. Instead of just brushing Jinx’s hair aside and leaving like you used to do, you’d linger, sitting by her bedside for hours, watching her sleep to ensure she was “safe.”

And as your behavior escalated, the thoughts of what you were doing became overwhelming, as you had become hyper aware of the fact that this was in fact becoming out of your control, how your clinginess worsened, everything.

You feel powerless. Too powerless to stop yourself.

Your loneliness and fear of abandonment—rooted in those centuries of isolation.. they only feed into your cycle.

You’d begun suppressing your emotions around the woman, sabotaging her independence, panicking at any separation.

And she finally picked up on all of it.

Though at first, Jinx didn’t not notice the depth of your obsession. Your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx had begun to feel smothered.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, angel,” Jinx said, a playful lilt in her voice as you two sat together. She threw a pebble toward the water, watching it skip.

“Y’know, you don’t have to stick to me like glue. I’m not going anywhere, so you can chill.”

Your laugh came a little too quickly, a little too forced.

“I’m just looking out for you, Pixie.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing you at your response.

“Yeah, but looking out and hovering are two different things.”

You brushed the concern away with a soft smile, changing the subject almost instantly. Jinx let it go that day, but the unease lingered. She was used to people being interested in her, fascinated even (I mean with the Jinxers and all).

But this? This was starting to feel different.

And as days turned into weeks once more, and your behavior didn’t just persist—it grew.

You were always there: waiting by the door when Jinx left her room, hovering close whenever Jinx tinkered with something, insisting on being around for every little thing.

It didn’t take long for Jinx’s patience to wear thin.

“Why do you always have to hover?” Jinx snapped one day, her voice sharp with irritation. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pieces of a broken gadget sprawled before her. You were kneeling far too close, watching her hands move.

You flinched at the sudden question.

“I just want to help you—”

“I don’t need help!” Jinx interrupted, throwing her arms up.

“You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Cause I can. Been doing it my whole life!”

The words were harsh, sharper than Jinx intended, but they hit their mark. Your expression faltered, guilt clouding your features as you took a hesitant step back.

Jinx, although frustrated, rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep her temper in check. She shouldn’t lash out at you like that.. You’ll learn to back off.

“I get it, okay? You care. But, trinket… you’ve gotta let me breathe.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, as neither of you said anything after that.

But still, you were once again staring down at her hands while Jinx grumbled to herself and returned to her work.

And despite her frustration, Jinx wasn’t blind. She saw the way your expression tightened when she walked out of the room, the hollow look that sometimes flickered across your face when you thought no one was watching. And as much as Jinx hated feeling stifled, she couldn’t ignore the pain driving your actions.

One night, after another particularly tense day for the both of you, Jinx finally confronted you. You both were sitting by the fireplace within the parlor, embers crackling. And as she had begun to speak, her tone softened.

“Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she said quietly, drawing your attention. The goddess, or you, had been staring into the flames, lost in thought.

“But you’ve gotta stop acting like I’m gonna vanish the second you blink. I’m not some dream you’re gonna wake up from, angel.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap as you shifted a bit, averting your gaze.

“I get it,” Jinx continued, her voice steadier now.

“You’ve been alone for a long time… and you’re scared. But this? This isn’t how it works.” She looked at you, even if you couldn’t see it - she couldn’t help the way her expression was softening even further.

“You don’t gotta hold me so tight to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere without a reason.”

You nodded faintly as your eyes returned to look her in the eyes, even with how uncomfortable it was.

But the look in YOUR eyes told Jinx that the message hadn’t fully landed.

But the real breaking point of this entire thing?

God, how did that even start again..

It was a couple days later when Jinx decided to venture off alone, desperate for some time to herself. She’d left early, without telling you where she was going.

And by the time she returned hours later?

She found you in a state of panic, your eyes wide and frantic.

When you noticed her, you immediately rushed over to her and gripped her shoulders, checking her to see if she had any injuries or anything out of the ordinary.

“Where were you?!” You demanded, your voice quivering with equal parts anger and desperation.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard at your sudden harsh tone.

“What’s your deal? I just went for a walk.”

“You didn’t say anything! You were gone—I didn’t know if something happened to you!” Your voice cracked, your usual calm composure slipping entirely. It’s like you were entirely different..

You are different however, aren’t you?

“I told you, I can’t lose you!”

Jinx’s temper finally flared at those last words you spoke, scoffing in response.

“Lose me?! I’m not some possession you can just keep tabs on all day!” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“I can’t breathe with you around all the time! You say you care about me, but this isn’t care—it’s control!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Bleeding out right in the pouring cold rain as it had once before.

You took a step back, tears already streaming down your face as you stared at her, arms wrapping yourself as a failed attempt to make yourself feel comforted.

“I’m sorry!” you choked out, your voice broken.

“I just… I can’t lose you! You’re all I have, Jinx. You don’t understand, you’re everything to me! You changed everything for me!”

Jinx faltered, caught between anger and guilt. Your desperation was raw, real, and heartbreaking.

But Jinx couldn’t ignore how suffocating it had become.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jinx said, quieter now but firm.

“You can’t live like this. And you can’t make me the only thing you’ve got.”

You almost instantly crumpled under the weight of Jinx’s words, retreating into yourself as you sobbed quietly. Jinx watched you, torn between frustration and empathy, unsure of how to fix what had shattered between the two of you you.

“..I’m sorry.”

And with that, you immediately rushed out of the palace from the door that Jinx had walked in from, never stopping for a second as she called out for you. You ran for as long as you could, never stopping for a second until you had collapsed to the ground from how long you had ran.

For as small as this island may seem, you’re somewhat shocked at how big it seemed as you ran through the forest, feet aching.

Eventually, you settled on resting on the forest floor, refusing to return to the palace.

Who would want to be there with a monster such as yourself?

Maybe the gods should just keep you locked up in a cage, where you could never harm anyone ever again.

In the days that followed, your absence was palpable. You withdrew entirely from being a part of Jinx’s life, ashamed of your own behavior and terrified that you’d ruined everything. You refused to eat, refused to even sleep some nights. Even with how tempting the idea of returning back to the palace seemed, you restrained yourself - reminded of what had happened days prior.

And so you remained on the island, simply lingering around anywhere where Jinx couldn’t find you (for the most part).

She’d seen your hair a few times, but when she had called out for you once more? You vanished.

As if you were never there to begin with.

Jinx couldn’t shake the memory of your desperation. She knew what loneliness felt like: what it meant to cling to something, anything, to keep yourself from drowning.

It’s because of that you’d become like this..

You were so kind, so calm and caring before. But this corruption had already sunk its claws into you, forcing you to anxiety and insecurity.

And eventually, Jinx sought you out.

She found you sitting alone at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless horizon with your knees close to your chest.

Jinx sat beside you, the silence stretching between you both.

“Come to berate me?” You muttered, voice tired and wavering.

“What?”

“You’re justified for doing so.. I just… I don’t even know anymore. I can’t even apologize normally anymore because of these stupid feelings.” You buried your face into your knees, tears threatening to form within the corners of your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved that, and yet I did it anyway. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal being, haven’t I? Being banished here, no human interaction for so long..” Jinx stared at you for a long moment before sighing, averting her gaze.

And then, she spoke.

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

You didn’t respond, but Jinx pressed on.

“You’re more than just… whatever you think you are to me. You’ve got this place, this life as a goddess. You don’t need to hang everything on me.”

You raised your head and turned it head slightly, your eyes red and tired.

“But what if you leave?..”

Jinx let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well… you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.” She nudged tour shoulder gently, her tone softening.

“But you gotta trust me. And more than that, you gotta trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think, trinket. You don’t need to hold me so tight to know I’m here.”

You didn’t reply right away, but something in your core shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start.

That feeling of hope once more.

Hope that you’d felt with her alone once again.

For both of you.

The rain pattered lightly against the palace windows, the warm air inside a comforting contrast to the storm outside. You moved through the halls, a plate of Jinx's favorite meal in your hands. Your expression was bright, softened by the anticipation of Jinx's reaction. You both had gotten on better terms once more, figuring out what to do so it couldn’t get so bad.

Of course, you still had a few issues to work through still.. but you were willing to do so for her!

"Pixie!" You called out with a cheerful lilt, your voice echoing down the corridor as you finally made it to the bluette’s room.

No response.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you continued forward nonetheless, pushing open the door to her room. You could see that Jinx was hunched over her desk, her posture stiff as she fidgeted with some new contraption she was working on. You felt your smile return, feeling more calm by understanding that she was busy and not ignoring purposefully.

You know she has quite the tendency to get lost within her work, focusing entirely on it and NOTHING else!

Quickly, you cleared your throat and approached the woman.

"Pixie? Are you alright? I brought you some food—"

"Get out."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You almost immediately froze in place, blinking in disbelief at the sudden harsh tone.

"Pardon?.." You asked softly, your voice tinged with more confusion than anything.

Jinx turned to face you, her eyes wild, her voice louder now.

“I said, get OUT! Are you deaf?!"

Your hands trembled at how she spoke to you, confused and concerned of what was going on. Carefully, you set the plate down on a nearby table before immediately returning your attention to the woman, determined to figure out what was causing all of this.

"Pixie… What's going on? Why are you acting—“

Before you could even finish, Jinx’s hand lashed out. The slap was swift and cold, and the worse part? She slapped you with what you KNEW was the hand with that metal finger of hers. The stinging against your cheek felt like it was burning, and the sound echoed in the room, followed by a silence so deafening it felt like everything just stopped in time.

You just stood there, stunned, one hand slowly rising to touch the tender skin of your cheek. Your wide eyes locked onto Jinx, who looked equally horrified, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. And so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Jinx and you had barely exchanged a GLANCE since the incident, hell - barely even being in the same room together!! Jinx claimed she didn’t remember saying those things, but as for you… you weren’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was all part of the gods’ plan; to drive a wedge between you two, to make you suffer, as they always had.

So when they came to you in the middle of the night as you were at the beach, coming to tell you the most devastating news of your life. You haven’t slept all night after hearing them either..

And so now you’re here at the beach once more, your back against a jagged rock, your feet brushing the cold stone path. In your hand, you twirled a blue flower, its delicate petals soft and fresh. You sighed, your chest tightening as you heard the faint clinking of metal tools nearby.

Peeking out from behind the rock, you saw Jinx tinkering with another bomb. The sight made your heart ache. Her hands moved deftly, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that reminded you of that very day.

You stood, clutching the flower tightly to gather the courage before you made your way toward Jinx. The sound of your footsteps were nearly drowned out by the rhythmic crashing of the waves.

“Someone arrived today,” you said with a blank tone, standing a little to Jinx’s right.

Jinx froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. You quickly continued.

“They said they’re taking you away… ‘that you’re not mine to save’.” You stepped closer, your voice trembling ever so slightly as you spoke.

“And soon I won’t get to see your face.”

With a delicate carefulness, you placed the blue flower behind Jinx’s ear, your fingers brushing against her hair as though you were handling the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“So I came by to say: You’re unlike anyone I have ever known.” Her hand lingered near Jinx’s shoulder for a moment longer than needed, before pulling away.

“Because you’re all I’ve ever known.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“The ones before you refused to tell me anything, refused to trust me. I knew nothing but their faces.” You elaborated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“And if I pushed you, or if I came on too strong at any time, or if I ambushed you… for that, I’ll say I was wrong.” Your voice cracked, though you continued.

“And if you hate me..” the words came out like poison, bitter and sharp as the taste lingered on your tongue, tears threatening to spill.

“..then I am sorry for that, I truly am. But I’m not sorry for loving you.”

“Trinket..” Jinx’s voice was quiet, almost just that of a whisper, but you cut her off with a raised hand.

“Let me speak!” You cried out, raising your voice.

“I spent my whole life here! I was cast away when I was young. Alone for a hundred years! I had no friends but the sky and sun!” Your voice cracked as memories of your past flooded her mind. The years you spent alone, your freedom being taken away from you, watching all of your kind being murdered - your own father killed before you. Being forced to even participate in a war you never wished to..

“So when you washed ashore… I thought for sure that you were my dream come true. I thought I knew…” You paused, thinking about your next words.

“I don’t even know anymore.. that you’d like me? But I guess I didn’t, did I? That I was too foolish to think that? Huh?”

You turned sharply, your tone cold.

“So I guess this is goodbye, Jinx. I hope you’re happy… after all, you’ll never see me again.”

You began to walk away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t watch her being taken away. As much as she hurt you, you just can’t.

“Trinket, wait!” Jinx’s voice was doused with desperation — but just as Jinx reaches where you had been moments ago, you were gone. Fading into some sort of mist like an unreachable dream.

The ocean wind whips around her, carrying the faint echoes of your words, reminiscing around as if to taunt her further about the crushing reality that is her future.

And she stands there, not knowing what to do.

[lyslsstuff]

carcar pregnancy announcement to the Sainz family | fluff | 914 words based on this reblog by @pitchcom :

edit : I made a monumental mistake, you will never know what it is now.

Carlos had always been a little apprehensive when it came to delivering important news to his family, particularly to his father. He loved his dad, of course, but their relationship hadn’t always been smooth sailing. The first few years of his career had been especially rocky—misunderstandings, miscommunications, and the pressure of expectations often left them at odds.

But things had changed. Slowly, they’d found common ground. Conversations became less tense, moments of laughter more frequent, and they learned to truly understand each other. Still, Carlos knew that his father had a way of delivering his thoughts bluntly, even when he meant well. It was a quality Carlos both admired and dreaded, especially now. Because this news? This wasn’t like anything they’d discussed before.

Carlos wasn’t sure how his father would react. Would he be happy? Confused? Angry? The possibilities weighed on him like a storm cloud.

But Oscar, his ever-reliable boyfriend, was there to weather the storm by his side.

The couple had flown to Madrid to celebrate Christmas with Carlos’s family. The festive air in the Sainz household was as warm and welcoming as ever. Senior and the rest of the family greeted them with open arms, all smiles and chatter. They were especially delighted to see Oscar again, though they couldn't resist teasing him mercilessly. His terrible Spanish accent, his quiet demeanor, even his choice of clothes—all were fair game for Carlos’s mother and sisters.

Carlos, of course, was ready to step in whenever Oscar needed him. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a sharp remark to deflect the teasing—it was clear to everyone how protective he was of his boyfriend. Oscar didn’t seem to mind the attention much, though, and often laughed along with the jokes.

But beneath the laughter and joy, Carlos’s mind was elsewhere. The news he needed to share loomed over him like a shadow. The words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come out. He felt a familiar wave of doubt. How could he even begin to tell them?

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Carlos sat curled up on the couch with Oscar. He leaned his head against Oscar’s shoulder, feeling the weight of his unspoken secret pressing down on him.

Oscar, ever perceptive, stroked Carlos’s back soothingly. “You’ve been quiet all day,” he murmured. “Thinking about how to tell them?”

Carlos nodded, biting his lip. “I just... I don’t know how to say it. What if they don’t take it well?”

Oscar kissed the top of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got an idea. Trust me, it’s brilliant.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Brilliant, huh? What kind of brilliant?”

“You’ll see,” Oscar teased, grinning. “You’ll be impressed, I promise.”

Carlos chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss him. Whatever Oscar had planned, he trusted him completely.

Christmas dinner was a lively affair, as always. The Sainz family gathered around the table, enjoying Reyes’s impeccable cooking and the festive decorations that filled the room. The atmosphere was joyful, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Carlos tried to focus on the moment, but his nerves wouldn’t let him. The news he was carrying felt like a weight in his chest, growing heavier with every passing minute. Beside him, Oscar reached under the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Carlos turned to him, startled, only to see Oscar wink before standing up from his seat.

The chatter at the table quieted as everyone turned to look at him. Oscar held a small box in his hands as he walked over to Senior, who eyed him with curiosity.

“Mister Sainz,” Oscar began. “I know it’s not Christmas just yet, but I wanted to give you an early gift.”

Senior raised an eyebrow, glancing at the small box Oscar extended toward him. “An early gift?” he repeated, clearly intrigued. “Well, let’s see what this is about.”

He carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box. Carlos’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure everyone could hear it. What had Oscar done? What was in that box? Please, he silently begged, let it not be something ridiculous—

Senior reached into the box and pulled out a pair of tiny, baby-sized socks. His expression shifted from confusion to surprise, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at the miniature socks in his hand.

The room fell silent. Everyone was looking at Senior, then at Carlos and Oscar, waiting for an explanation. Carlos swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.

“You’re—” Senior began, turning to Carlos, who was still seated, his cheeks flushed. “You’re really—?”

"I am," Carlos nodded, his voice slightly shaky. "You’re going to be a grandfather.”

The room erupted into chaos. Carlos’s mother let out a delighted squeal, rushing over to hug him. His sisters followed suit, bombarding him with questions and congratulations. Senior stood, pulling Carlos into a tight embrace.

“This,” he said, holding Carlos close, “is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received.”

Carlos felt a wave of relief wash over him. The fear, the doubt, all of it melted away as he was surrounded by the love and joy of his family. He glanced at Oscar, who was watching the scene unfold with a fond smile.

Carlos reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Oscar—or the happiness they were about to share—but he was endlessly grateful.

[erosmutt]

　★　𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧　⨟　𝗗. 𝗩𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

👥﹐𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ﹒Darth Vader x apprentice!reader

📺﹐𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ﹒Breaking the rule of two is alright as long as it's his pretty little apprentice - she's the only one Vader will let see him out of his suit.

♰﹐𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ﹒standing sex, sex up against the bacta tank so not really wall sex but eh, Vader refers to reader as "little one" in an affectionate sense﹒

🎼﹐𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹒Angel ⋆ Massive Attack

ਏਓ 𝒃𝒏𝒖𝒖𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : unrealistic, he has his limbs in the bacta tank and he's managing without his suit for a bit . for @lacebird <3 // MY KO-FI

The stark grey corridors of the Death Star stretch on endlessly, the only color ever added being the occasional stormtrooper on patrol or an Imperial officer making his way to a meeting. It's sterile, oppressive, and you absolutely despise it. The Imperial Palace is where you would much rather reside, and you make a point to mention it every chance you get.

With a low hiss, the door to a chamber hardly entered opens and you step inside, your robes flowing. A massive, cylindrical tank rests on a raised platform - a bacta tank. The green liquid inside churns gently, illuminating the room with a dim, eerie, somewhat ethereal glow. Within is your Master, Darth Vader, his scarred body submerged in the healing fluid, the only time he ever seems somewhat at peace.

You take a moment to compose yourself as you step up to the bacta tank, your robes rustling softly with each step. Your eyes are fixed on him, filled with a mix of curiosity and deep concern. As you reach the tank, you press your soft hand against the glass, feeling the warmth of the healing liquid on the other side. Your heart races as you gaze upon his scarred body, the evidence of countless battles fought and pain endured etched into his very flesh. You've often found yourself wondering about the stories behind each mark, each wound, but Vader has always remained stoically silent when you've dared to ask.

A small sigh escapes your lips and your mouth trembles slightly as you begin to speak. "Master," you whisper, your eyes never leaving his form submerged in the bacta. "Is there anything I can do for you while you rest?" Your hand lingers on the glass, fingers tracing the outline of his form through the liquid, a small, sad smile playing on your lips. "You know you can always talk to me, Master," you add, your voice filled with gentle encouragement and unwavering devotion.

Suddenly, Vader's eyes open, piercing you with their intense gaze. The top of the tank hisses softly, lifting open. He rises from the tank, water cascading down his muscular body in rivulets. He removes the mask and takes a deep breath of fresh air, standing there nude and imposing. "What do you want, apprentice?" He asks, voice a deep, commanding rasp. He takes a step towards you, his presence beginning to overwhelm you in the small chamber. Your breath catches in your throat, equal parts fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins.

"I just wanted to check on you, Master," You murmur, hands coming to fold together in front of you. His eyes rake over your body, taking in every curve and swell, further committing them to memory. "And now?" He asks, closing the distance between you. He towers over you, heat radiating off his body, power emanating off him. Your heart pounds in your chest, your cheeks flushing as your Master leans down, still too tall to come eye to eye with you. "You want something else, yes?"

Vader's hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. As your hands find his biceps, you can feel the hard plane of his body, the strength in his muscles, the heat of his skin. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that takes your breath away. His tongue delves into your mouth as his cybernetic hands roam your body, mapping every dip and curve like a starved man.

His cold hands gather your robes before sliding underneath them, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples. You gasp as he pinches them, robes falling to the floor, leaving you bare and exposed to the cold air. His golden orbs take in your body, his right hand sliding down and dipping into your leggings and between your thighs, his fingers finding your slick heat. "Say my name," he murmurs against your lips.

"Master," you gasp as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he turns the both of you around and puts your back up against the bacta tank. Your eyes meet his, breath coming in short pants, body aching for him. "Master,"

With a swift motion, he tears your bottoms apart, leaving you exposed. A deep, rasping breath leaves his chest as he sheathes himself inside you in one smooth thrust, your tight cunt stretching around his thick shaft. "Maker!" You cry, nails raking across his shoulders and down his thick arms. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust before he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a harsh rhythm.

"Gods," he whispers, head dipping down to your neck, nose brushing against your soft skin. His hands move down to grip your ass, lifting you higher to change the angle, hitting that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. He pounds up into you with abandon, the bacta tank shaking with the force of his thrusts. A low, guttural moan rumbles from Vader's chest as he buries himself deeper, and he can feel your slick walls fluttering around him, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the small chamber.

His breathing grows heavier, the air in the room growing hotter. As you tighten around him, he can sense your impending orgasm and he redoubles his efforts, chasing his own high. The tank shakes and the bacta inside sloshes, some spilling over and splashing onto your skin. With a final, hard thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his warm seed into your waiting womb. he groans, long and low, body shuddering with the force of his release.

Vader holds you close as you both come down from your highs, his softening cock still inside of you. He nuzzles your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pulls out of you slowly, the both of you watching as his cum begins to drip out of you. In a daring move, you reach down and gather a bit on your fingertips, bringing them up to your mouth and tasting him before reaching down again and gently stuffing his cum back in.

He sets you down on shaky legs, hands holding your hips to steady you. "Go and rest, little one." He murmurs, making a silent promise to come check on you later. "Yes Master," you respond, tugging your robes down over yourself. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his bicep before turning away and leaving, the door to the chamber hissing shut behind you.

@102hannah @addictedtohobi @literally-izzy @bimbo-baggins17 @brooklynb8by

@jameskellysgirl @lovebunanon @speaknow-sw @anakinstwinklebunny@vrby9

@zapernz @jediavengers @enchant5d @trippyhippywitch @valloos

@piastricentric @gallerygourmet @anakinsbbgirl @ilovekmchenzie @gabsskkk

@s1ck-skv1l @s1aywalker @t03soup @offthethirlwall @tfmerc

@starlmbed @slutforfinnickodair @geekforhorror @necromancerrrs @theladykassia

@thesassypadawan @cocobear18 @anisangeldust @fredswrite @byunnue

@d0llfilth @haydenslittlegirl @lunarnightt @espinathena-17 @fallout-girl219

@mugwump327 @stepdadjameskelly @anisluvrgirl @xhunnybeeex @radiantvader

@urmomsgirlfriend1 @hayden-christensen-verse @rssmary @dreamygirli3 @awhhayden

[heelix1r]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 DON’T BE SHY … COME CLOSER 🌾

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ don’t be shy, jungwon just wants to take some pictures with you. won’t you join him?

bela is typing . . . oh to be in forced proximity with yang jungwon…

jungwon x f!reader | drabble | romance | no established au

masterlist | guidelines | requests OPEN !

like this order? check out my recently opened coffee lounge to make your own order to-go ;)

jungwon + romance + forced proximity + “are you blushing?”

you heard distinct chattering from inside the photobooth you were passing by on your way to the claw machines. by the time you turned the corner, you were startled to see jungwon standing on the side, crossing his arms lightly as he rolled his eyes at the commotion coming from the inside. he laid eyes on you, and his expression softened.

“so that’s where you guys were headed off to,” you retorted with a chuckle. “i was wondering how i could’ve lost all seven of you.”

“it was jake’s idea,” he said, tapping on the photobooth with his hands. “but i lost rock-paper-scissors with jay since we both entered the booth last. so now i just have to wait here.”

you heard a muffled “almost done!” from sunoo inside the booth.

“but never mind that,” jungwon said, pushing himself from the photobooth, placing his hands in his pockets. “where were you headed? or were you just looking for us?”

“oh no.” you shook your head. “i gave up five minutes ago, i was going to leave you guys for dead. i wanted to check out the claw machines.”

jungwon shook his head as he saw heeseung’s foot step outside of the booth, presumably preventing himself from falling out. the both of you could hear fragmented bickering about who got to be in the front, faces being smushed in, and an onslaught of swearing, laughing, and yelling that seemed to have no end. you gave each other a knowing look—jungwon definitely was the lucky one by staying out of there.

“well, i’ll come join you,” he mused, nudging his head over to the claw machines. “i bet what you’re doing is a lot more productive than whatever they’re doing.”

“good idea.” you had resigned yourself to taking the lead, and jungwon was more than happy to follow suit. by the time you two had your backs to the photobooth, everything that happened next was too quick for you to process.

in a flash of whirring movements, you yelped at the feeling of your arms being grasped—jungwon’s grunt mirrored your surprise as you watched the other boys chase the two of you down, forcibly pushing you into the photobooth. you and jungwon stared at each other amidst processing their unfiltered laughter. you could hear an employee scolding them to keep it down.

“what are you guys doing?” jungwon asked, his face showing more concern over everything else.

“take some pictures!” riki called out from the outside. “you two are the only ones who didn’t get to, so jay threw in a few more won for you guys to do. see you later!”

it was hard to miss their parading footsteps fade into the distance. you turned to the bright, inviting screen, giving you the option of the standard 4-picture portrait mode.

then it hit you.

you were alone in a close space with yang jungwon.

your body tensed up immediately at the realization, taking in the subtlety in the way his shoulder was pressed against yours. you could smell his cologne—it was faint, but you knew it was his. the only sound that filled your shared silence was the automated voice coming from the booth, inviting the both of you to choose some filters.

you were startled at the sound of jungwon clearing his throat. both of you turned towards one another slowly, your eye contact with him moving back towards the screen.

“we could just take some normal photos,” he offered nonchalantly. he even slouched ever so slightly after he tinkered with the options. “or some silly ones. have any ideas in mind?”

think, think, think.

jungwon, jungwon, jungwon.

“we could,” you mumbled quietly, very intentionally avoiding his gaze. you stared straight in front of you, as if the screen magnetized your vision. or rather, jungwon was repelling it.

repelling it would be far from the truth.

“y/n, that was not an answer.” you pressed your lips together as you heard his voice contort with confusion. “nonchalant or silly? or a mix of both?”

“silly,” you blurted out, your eyes still glued to the screen. “yeah, that would be a good idea.”

jungwon didn’t respond. as a matter of fact, you realized he didn’t reach out for the screen either. he sat there in silence.

“y/n,” he said after a few moments. “look at me.”

you obliged. to your horror, you saw a glint of a smirk stretch across his lips, watching intently as his body leaned in closer to yours, closing the distance between the two of you ever so slightly.

you were in complete shock. jungwon’s stare had you pinned, frozen like a deer in headlights. and as he approached your face even closer with his, you knew you were completely busted. his face was so close, you felt him breathing on your skin. your noses were nearly touching.

he broke the silence once more. “are you blushing?” he hums, that foxy grin appearing without remorse.

you whip around in an attempt to distance yourself from him, as if it would save your dignity. “no,” you answered (a little too forcefully). “i am not. it’s just the screen. there’s… there’s strawberries all over the filters.”

there were no strawberries on the screen. dork.

jungwon chuckled softly. you watched his hand approach the booth screen, starting the countdown abruptly.

“if you’re not blushing, then,” he mused, “then we can move on to being silly, right?”

as if directly on cue, you felt fingers pinching your cheeks in, turning your face towards him. he had a knowing smirk on his face as he gently squished the skin of your cheeks. you knew that he knew that your face was abnormally hot.

before you could protest, the first shutter went off.

you pushed his fingers away, “that was uncalled for!” you exclaimed, wailing your arms. “how dare—”

click. there goes the second picture.

you turned to the camera in horror, and jungwon bursted out into a fit of laughter as you realized how little time you had left.

the camera caught your horrified stare. click.

there was no fighting this. jungwon was playing with you and getting a laugh out of it. mustering what courage you had, you turned back to jungwon within the few seconds you hand, cupped his face, and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. you heard him gasp as the final click went off.

at last, the photo booth was wishing the two of you farewell. you hardly processed that you had just willingly kissed jungwon’s cheek for the sake of the photos, and by the looks of it, jungwon wasn’t really processing it, either.

“two can play at that game,” you muttered, reaching out for the curtain to leave.

but before you could, jungwon nearly pounced on your hands, shooing them away from the curtain, and briskly moving themselves down to cradle your hips. your head whipped around and your eyes met jungwon’s, your faces inches apart.

“was that you being silly?” he asked, his voice low.

that crimson heat forced its way back up to the skin of your cheeks, much to your dismay. “what would you do if i said no?” you whispered.

he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, his fingers tightening around your waist. he pulled you closer, your bodies now pressed against once another.

“i wouldn’t let you leave this booth,” he replied.

as a sharp inhale entered your mouth, both of you were startled out of your trances as a loud banging could be heard from the door.

“are you done yet?” sunghoon asked from the outside. “we’re hungry and out of tickets. hurry up!”

“coming!” you yelled out quickly, composing yourself enough to hastily push the curtain to the booth to the side, allowing the light to display your close proximity with jungwon.

sunghoon had turned around and walked to the rest of the group as you slowly made your way out. but before you could step completely out of the booth and back into the arcade, jungwon grasped your wrist.

you whirled around and saw his facial expression in full view. you felt your breath hitch at how intensely he stared at you, his eyes observing you closely.

this isn’t over, he mouthed to you.

with a huff, you exited the photobooth completely, taking the two sets of photos. when jungwon got out, you gave him his.

he looked at the set of four photos, smiling knowingly as he pressed a soft kiss to it.

“we’ll get back to this later,” he said to you. and by the looks on his face, you knew he was telling you the truth.

the two of you met up with the group before walking out. you couldn’t help but keep peering at the photos you two took together.

you were definitely blushing now.

[paige1722]

So Much For A Safe House-END

Summary: You go on a mission with 141 and end up taking shelter in an abandoned building. The place is haunted, and you are all trapped inside; creepy things are happening. (Ghost of War-inspired)

Warnings: scares, violence, weapons, monsters, first-aid stuff, lots of gore

Chapter 1: Shelter Chapter 2: Hunter's Moon Chapter 3: Pinnacle to the Pit

Ah, I can't believe this is the final part. I hope you all like it! Also, since it took me so long to finish this part, there's a small bonus at the end.

Chapter 4: See the Light

Deciding that you should all move back into the living room before anything else happens, you pack up the first aid kit and grab the discarded weapons, tactical vests, and flashlights to move them back into the living room next to the fireplace and sleep bags to be dealt with later. Heading back into the kitchen for what feels like the 100th time that night, you go to help Price carry Gaz. 

Price was holding Gaz up on one side, supporting all of his body weight, waiting for your return. Moving to the other side, you place an arm around his back, allowing him to put his arm over your shoulders, effectively distributing the body weight between all of you and allowing Gaz to walk somewhat easier. Ghost was in a similar position with Soap, who could not put any pressure on his now broken ankle, hopping out of the room using Ghost as a crunch, they make their way into the living room. You, Price, and Gaz are following closely behind.

The fire was still going; however, it had dwindled a bit. Walking slowly to accommodate Gaz, you and Price set him down, helping him settle in, and the sleeping bags were set up in front of the fire. Soap is sitting on his sleeping bag, his injured ankle propped up on a makeshift cushion of a pillow and blanket, pulling out his small diary, which he always carries with him, and begins writing. Having caught a glimpse of his notebook before you figure he is probably adding notes about what has been happening here and some sketches. 

Price and Ghost are busy tending to the fire, talking in hushed voices, you can barely make out bits and pieces of their conversation, something about our chances not looking good with two injured. Not wanting to stress yourself out by eavesdropping on their conversation, you busy yourself with finding a new shirt for Gaz to wear. Rummaging through the bags, you managed to find a black long-sleeve thermal shirt that belonged to either Ghost or Price judging by the size, but you figured they wouldn’t mind letting Gaz borrow it for the time being. Walking over to where Gaz was lying, staring at the ceiling, a far-off look on his face. You sit criss-cross beside him, gently taping his shoulder to gain his attention, “here, I found you a shirt.” 

He turns his head to you, a small smile on his face at the gesture, “Thanks, Spark.” Reaching to grab the shirt, he pauses, “I think you will have to help me get dressed.” 

Giggling, you help him slowly sit up, bunching up the shirt; you pull it over his head and slowly pull his arms one at a time through each sleeve. Once both of his arms are in the shirt, you pull it the rest of the way down to cover his stomach, being mindful of his injuries. He leans back on his elbows, careful not to pull any of his stitches, and closes his eyes before slowly sliding back down in his sleeping bag. 

Static breaks the silence, causing you to jump at the sudden noise breaking the silence that had shrouded the room. The crackling coming from the long-forgotten radio gains the attention of everyone in the room. Price and Ghost are no longer talking, Gaz's head is turned towards the radio, and Soap has stopped writing in his notebook; everyone’s holding their breath, hoping that maybe it is just Laswell and that you are all about to be rescued.  

“.....re……it……fire…d..” 

You can barely make out the word fire from the static, causing you to instinctively glance towards the fire still burning bright. Price grabs the radio, hitting a few of the buttons, his forehead creasing in concentration. “It’s not even turned on…” You hear him mutter under his breath. 

 A voice from the radio cuts Price off. “It doesn’t like fire.” 

Static still echoed from the radio but more quietly once the message had been spoken. 

“Keep the bloody fire going then; I’ll burn this whole place to the ground if it comes to it,” exclaimed Gaz, pointing at the fireplace. 

Even though the fire was still burning and did not seem as if it would be dying any time soon, Ghost still placed more of the broken chair pieces into the heart of the fire. He looks at the few remaining pieces of the chair. You realize there are not enough pieces left of the chair to keep the fire going for the remainder of the night.

 You stand to your feet, announcing, “I’ll go back in the dining room and grab a couple more of the chairs for us to use.” 

Receiving a nod in return, you quickly jog out of the room and back into the dining room. Moving quickly, you grab two of the small wooden chairs that were strewn around the room. Not wanting to be alone for any longer than you have to be once you have a good hold on both chairs, you go back into the living room, where it sounds like an argument was taking place in your absence. 

Soap throws his hands up in the arm, his accent thick. “How do we know that it doesn’t like fire? Is that even true? What if it is just trying to trick us, we already know whatever the fuck it is can mimic voices!” His heavy breathing was all that could be heard as everyone thought about his words.

While listening to Soap’s exclamation, you placed the two chairs with the other pieces of wood, giving you a grunt of appreciation. Ghost then starts to break the chairs into more manageable pieces for the fire, creating a pile of wooden stakes. 

Sitting back down next to Gaz and thinking about what Soap had said, you thought about the voice; it sounded vaguely familiar. Furrowing your eyebrows, trying to think of where you heard it before you realize it was the same voice from the beginning of the night that said, ‘It is here now.’ Now that you have time to comprehend things a little more clearly, maybe the voice wasn’t the cause of the terror, but perhaps it was actually trying to warn you about the wendigo. Still sitting next to Gaz, you turn and look at him. Making eye contact, he gives a concerned look, like he can see that you have thought of something, and he gives you a subtle nod.  

Taking a deep breath, you share your thoughts, “I don’t think the voice we have been hearing on the radio is the wendigo or some sort of trick. I mean, it kind of seems like whatever it is has been warning us. Like it warned us when the creature first arrived.” 

You glance around the room at everyone’s faces before continuing, “The writing in the room was probably meant to scare us from any more exploration, but that obviously didn’t work, and now, since two of us are injured and we are trapped here until the storm is over, now it tells us a way to properly defend ourselves against the wendigo.” 

Once you finish, you shyly begin rubbing your shoulders, scared that others will not agree with your thoughts. Having said that, everyone seems to be in deep thought over the new information presented.

Soap gains your attention by clearing his throat, “Perhaps we should check the notebook you found again, Spark. Maybe if the voice was actually warning us, then something in the notebook could help, too.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the rest of the team send you both a questioning look. Price mouths ‘notebook?’ to Ghost, who just shrugs his shoulders in return.

Nodding your head, reaching into your pocket, and retrieving the once-forgotten small red notebook, Gaz peering up to see what you’re looking at. You run your hands over the raised leather of the strange symbol on the cover. Signing, you wished that you knew what the strange symbol meant since it was the same symbol that was on the key to the cellar door. 

Flipping to the first page, but just like last time, you are unable to understand the scribbling on the pages; it is almost like it was written in a different language. The only things you are able to make out are the same phrases about not letting it in and someone needing help. 

Realizing that the notebook is not going to be of any help if you can’t read it properly, you grow frustrated and scared with the entire situation you have all found yourselves in, and you throw the book across the room in anger. 

“I’m sorry, guys, I can’t read any of this. But the pictures are for certain drawings of the wendigo, so if I knew all the words written in there, then it would be more of a help. All I can make out are the few phrases not in that weird language.” you say, pulling your knees up to your chest, resting your head on your knees, trying to seek some comfort within yourself. Gaz slowly reaches up and puts a comforting hand on your back, giving you a sympathetic pat.

The small notebook hit the wall next to the fireplace and landed next to Ghost, who had still been tending to the fire every so often. Eyeing the notebook suspiciously, he picks it up, flips it open to the middle, and lets out a small grunt. 

“Of course, you can’t read it, Spark. Most of it is in Latin.” 

Your head shoots up, and your gaze lands on Ghost in surprise, “Latin! What the fuck? I thought that was a dead language.” 

Still looking through the notebook, Ghost replies, “Technically, but they still teach it in schools.” 

Price moves over next to Ghost, looking over his shoulder, “Well, does that mean you can read it then?”

He grunts in return, “I am not an expert or anything, but I think I can probably figure out the gist of things.” 

Ghost then spends the next few moments going through the notebook, trying to determine if there is any useful information in it, while the rest of you wait with bated breath for him to share his findings. 

After what feels like hours, Ghost sits up straight, pointing to one of the pages in the book, looking around at everyone, “According to the notebook, the wendigo is mainly active at night, but it will still come out during the day if it knows there's prey around. It cannot be killed by regular means. So, no bullets or anything; it heals too fast. Apparently, the only way to actually kill it is by burning it with fire, like that voice said. It also mentions they have a hard time seeing still prey.” 

Taking in the new information, Price slaps his hands on his thighs, “Well, now we know a way to protect ourselves: fire and no sudden movements. This new information can help us come up with a plan of attack.”

“Wait, there is something else.” Ghost speaks up, trying to decipher the small text that was written under one of the drawings of the creature feasting on something. 

“it says here don't become one of them.” 

What!” Soap yells, moving to stand but is stopped by his ankle, grimacing in pain, wrapping one hand around his hurt leg, slowly moving back to his previous sitting position, “What the fuck, does that mean?” 

 Turning the page, a similar picture can be seen, but instead, it is clearer what it is eating. The drawing is of a corpse being feasted upon by the Wendigo, with small text that could be seen at the bottom of the page. 

Pointing at the picture and turning the book around so everyone can see it, Ghost says. “eating the flesh of another.”

A sinking feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, realizing how desperate someone would have to be for food, starving on the brink of death, feeling as if you have no other choice but to resort to cannibalism, eating someone that was once a friend or family member. Shaking your thoughts away, not wanting to think about that, you refuse to believe that it will even come close to that because in a few more hours, when it is finally daylight, this storm will be over, and you can finally make contact with Head-Quarters and get the hell out of this place once and for all. 

As if sensing your dark thoughts, Price speaks up, “Still, like this doesn’t change anything, we will stay here and keep the fire going.” He stands up and grabs one of the legs of the broken chairs from the pile and wraps a piece of torn cloth that was lying on the ground around one end of the stick, “if the wendigo somehow comes in, we will light a few of these on fire and kill the bastard. And once it's daylight and the storm is gone, we can call Laswell and get the hell out of here.” 

Gaz leans up the best he can on one elbow, “Yes, Sir. Though honestly, she has probably already worked out where we are, and as soon as the weather clears, we will already have a helicopter ready and waiting.” 

Gaz’s optimism rubs off on you as you smile in return to his wishful thinking, though knowing how meticulous Laswell is, he is more than likely correct in his assumption. The atmosphere in the room shifts to more calm at Price and Gaz’s words. Soap and Gaz both move to lie back down, shutting their eyes and finally feeling as if they can relax after their attack and constant worrying. All of the exhaustion catching up to your two teammates, the adrenaline from their near-death experience causing them to become tired quickly, and soft snores leaving them. Smiling slightly, you move Gaz’s blanket to cover him more, quietly grab your weapon, and sit next to the hastily boarded-up window to keep watch just in case.

 After a while, your body becomes stiff from sitting for so long, stretching your arms and legs out and hearing the satisfying pop. Glancing out of the window, you see the moon that was once high in the sky is now at the horizon, almost disappearing completely behind the trees of the forest, letting out a sigh of relief that this nightmare is almost a horrible distant memory. Then, all of a sudden, the wendigo jumps down from above, landing right in front of you on the other side of the window. Its breath fogs up the window as it stares down at you. Gasping at the sudden encounter, you jump back, aiming your weapon at the Wendigo. Your sudden outburst and movement catch the attention of Ghost and Price, who grab a piece of burning wood and stand on either side of you in front of the window. The tension in the room was thick; sweat was forming on your brow. Everyone was watching and waiting to see who would make the first move: your team or the creature.

“What’s the bloody thing doing?” you hear one of your teammates ask, you could barely make it out of the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, feeling like you were staring death right in the face. You weren’t sure why, but it felt as if it was smiling at you. 

Swallowing nervously, you whisper, “I think it is taunting us like it is trying to wait us out.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the creature lets out a laugh. It was your laugh. The creature was using your own voice to torment you. You all watch as it raises its gnarled, bony finger and taps on the glass, pointing to where your two injured teammates lay blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Its yellow eyes move back, staring directly at you like it can see right into your soul. Its mouth opens once again, using your voice, “Two of us are injured. We are trapped here.” 

Feeling as if you can no longer breathe, you drop to your knees, resting one hand on the ground, keeping you from face-planting, your other hand placed on your chest, feeling the rapid beating of your heart and the quick rising and falling of your chest and you struggle to catch your breath. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, the burning in your throat causing you to let out pained gasps for breath. Feeling someone kneeling at your side, pulling you into them, your face pressed against their chest, feeling the slow and deep breaths they were taking, the rumbling of their chest as they speak slowly to you. 

“Come on, Spark. That’s it, nice and slow, match my breathing.” 

When you are no longer fighting to breathe, and it doesn’t feel like your lungs are about to explode, do you slowly move away from the person holding you. Wiping the tears that were still present on your face away, you look up to see Price’s comforting face beside you, one arm still on your back. 

“All better now, Spark?” his voice soft and comforting. 

Nodding your head in response, “Yes, Sir. I..I am sorry. It just was using my voice….The Wendigo?!!?” realizing that in the chaos of your panic attack, you forgot all about the reason for it. Quickly looking back to the window, you no longer see the wendigo glowering in the window frame, just the snowy forest. 

“It disappeared as soon as you fell on your knees. I think you were right about it wanting to taunt us.” said Ghost

You glance towards Ghost, who is still standing at your side. He was now holding Price’s fire stick from when he handed it off to Ghost to comfort you. Not wanting to burn the whole house down and force you all to take your chances outside, Ghost turns back to place the two burning sticks back into the fire. Patting your back twice, Price motions for you to follow. Grabbing your discarded weapon, you join them, standing in front of the fire. Ghost stands with his arms crossed, waiting for Price to share the next course of action. Price’s hands are holding on to the straps of his tactical vest, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, something you noticed he only does when he is really stressed. 

He glances at your two injured teammates and lets out a heavy sigh. “I am going to be honest with both of you; it is not looking good for us. I know that daylight is a mere two hours away at this point, but we have to keep in mind even when the storm is behind us, it is going to be near impossible to get everybody to the evac point if we have this creature to worry about. We will be sitting ducks out there in the open, and I think it knows that.” 

Rubbing his temples, trying to come up with a way somehow to carry Soap and Gaz through the thick snow, keep a constant lookout, and make it to the evac point in one piece, looking more and more impossible by the passing seconds.

 Ghost, who had remained silent pretty much this whole time, speaks up. “Well, then, we just need to kill the damn thing.” You turned and stared at him like he just grew three heads because if it was that simple, then surely whoever was here before all of you would have done it, especially since they figured out that fire could kill it. 

Unsurprisingly, in all the commotion, Soap had woken up; deciding that now would be a good time to share his thoughts, he spoke up, “I think that sorry bastard lives down there in that cellar. That is probably why it went berserk when we went down there in the first place. Maybe if we go down there and catch it by surprise, we can kill it once and for all.”

You finally register that Soap is talking about someone going back down into that thing's hideout and just hoping for the best while they try and light the stupid thing on fire. Looking around at the group, expecting Price, at the very least, to oppose the idea of sending someone to their death, but instead, you see him actively contemplating the idea. 

Throwing your hands up in the air in defeat, “Ah fuck it! What’s the plan? How would I even kill the fucker, once I am down there?”

“Well, Spark, I am glad to see you so willing to help, but don’t worry, it won’t be just you going down there. Ghost will be going, too.” 

Price grabs his backpack lying on the ground, rummaging around in it until he finds what he is looking for. He pulls out a small can of lighter fluid and tosses it at Ghost, who immediately catches it with ease. 

“Always carry that with me after my lighter ran out one time on a mission; I thought I was going through withdrawals without my cigars. It was not a fun time for me.” Price reaches his pocket and pulls out a lighter, sighing and handing it to Ghost as well. “Alright, when you both go down there, find the thing, cover him in lighter fluid, and light that son of a bitch up.” 

“Simple but an effective plan, Captain. I hope it works,” you mumble.

“Of course it will. Spark got my two best soldiers on the mission.” “HEY,” Soap yells, ignoring his outburst. Price continues, “While you and Ghost are down there, I will be up here watching after these two, making sure nothing happens, just in case.” 

Rolling your shoulders and popping your neck, you and Ghost remove your tactical vests to go down into the pit. Ghost then squats down and uses the materials Price gave to him to create some kind of Molotov-like device. Once complete, he stands back up and places it into a pocket on the side of his pants for safekeeping.

When he sees you staring at the contraption he put together, Ghost just simply grunts in reply, “Guerrilla warfare.”

While you both prepare yourselves for this risky mission, Soap speaks up, “Even though things went to shite down there earlier, I think we managed to learn where it stays, so just go straight out from the ladder when you get down there, keep going for about a click and then you should find it. Good luck, guys.” 

Listening to Soap’s advice, you both continue preparing, riding yourself off all the bulky padding of your uniform that might interfere with entering the small opening of the cellar door. Though you make sure to keep your knife and handgun strapped around your thigh, knowing that even if it won’t kill the wendigo, it could still be used to help subdue the creature. You unclip the tactical flashlights off your gun while Ghost grabs one of the hand-made torches from the broken chair. Once everything is secure, you both nod your heads in farewell towards Soap and Price and make your way back into the kitchen towards the creature's hideout.  

Entering the kitchen, you walk towards where the key sits on the floor after being thrown around the room in a panic when you were trying to save your teammates from the creature's clutches. Picking up the key, the cold metal feels heavy in your grasp. You walk to where Ghost is waiting for you next to the entrance to the cellar door, kneeling down you slide the key into the lock and pause, a million thoughts racing through your mind: what if once you turn the key and open the door, it is waiting for you and grabs you, what if the creature knows of your plan and is waiting for you and Ghost to go down into the cellar and then he attacks your injured teammates upstairs then goes back down to finish the job, what if- 

Ghost's voice breaks through your panicked thoughts, “It is going to be ok. We can do this.” Even though his face is covered by his mask, you see his eyes crinkle, indicating that he is smiling at you and trying to make you feel better about the whole situation. 

“Right.” you move the key, hearing the quiet click of it, unlocking the heavy cellar doors. You and Ghost both grab opposite sides of the door and, with a grunt, opening the door and leaving it to rest against the wall once again. Immediately, shining your flashlight down into the pit for any signs of the creature at the bottom. Not seeing anything, Ghost moves to squeeze through the narrow opening, the torch held carefully in one hand as he slowly made his way down. Once he is a few steps down, you follow suit, positioning yourself on the ladder, and slowly make your way through the opening, feeling claustrophobic as you descend into the cold, metallic darkness. 

The only thing that can be heard is the sound of the ladder groaning in protest at the added weight of people going down. The closer you got to the bottom, the more it felt like all the heat was leaving your body, the freezing air piercing your body, making all the hair on your body stand on end, putting you even more on edge. Ghost feet hitting the pavement of the cellar echo throughout the darkness; he steps over, giving you room to hop off the ladder. Stepping off the ladder, you remove the flashlight from where you held it in your mouth and unhook the handgun from the holster on your thigh. Holding the gun in front of you with one hand while supporting it with your other hand, holding the flashlight underneath, your arms outstretched in front of you, ready for whatever might be awaiting down here for you. 

Ghost was in a similar position; the strange contraption he made earlier could be seen in one of the many pockets on his pants. Silently, he motions for you to follow him, clicking off your flashlight using only the light from the torch as a guide and falling into step behind him. You snap into your mission mindset, not allowing for any other thoughts to distract you. Ghost kept walking straight out from the ladder as per Soap’s instruction. After you had been walking for about five minutes, a horrible smell filled your nostrils, like rotting flesh and blood. He moves the torch a little more forward around to try and find the source of the terrible stench; you see a trail of dried blood stained on the ground. Ghost slowly follows the trial. Gagging, you cover your nose at the sight of a huge pile of rotting animal carcasses, flies, maggots, and other insects swarming over the pile of viscera. 

Regaining your senses, you choked down the bile that rose in your throat and kept moving forward with Ghost, hoping to find the source of all this carnage. Amongst the sound of the swarming insects, you hear the sounds of flesh tearing and eating. Ghost jerked his head towards the source of the sound; the Wendigo was hunched over, ripping into the corpse of what used to be an elk. It was holding the creature in the air, using its razor-sharp teeth to tear into the dead animal's flesh, causing blood and who knows what else to go everywhere onto the floor. 

Slowly putting his handgun back into the holster on his hip but leaving it unbuttoned for easy access, he reaches into his pocket. Ghost retrieves the Molotov-like device carefully so as not to make any noise while the creature is distracted enjoying his breakfast. Keeping your gun aimed at the creature, Ghost rears his arm back and throws the Molotov. Time seems to move in slow motion as you watch it fly through the air; holding your breath, it hits the creature on its head, causing the can to burst, spewing the liquid all over it and setting fire to its body. 

The creature throws the elk corpse and begins screeching in pain, and the flames consume its body. It starts flailing its arms frantically, trying to put out the fire to no avail. Amongst its pain, it catches sight of you moving backward, lunging for you; it grabs ahold of you, knocking the gun and flashlight out of your hands and lifting you into the air. You scream for help. The flames from the creature are spreading, making its way towards you. Your arms are pinned to your sides because of the grasp the creature has on you; you’re unable to move them. Trying to use your legs to kick yourself free but it is no use. It is too strong; feeling the creature begin to use its strength to squeeze you, you let out another antagonizing scream, trying to look for Ghost but being unable to spot him; the only thing you can see is the Wendigo’s burning flesh. 

Fearing for the worst, ready to give up, the torch Ghost was carrying is stabbed into the Wendigo’s face right into its eye socket. The wendigo throws you down, screeching, bringing both hands to try and claw out the burning torch embedded in its face. Expecting to land on the hard, cold ground, you brace yourself for the impact only to land in the midst of the pile of rotting flesh, effectively breaking your fall but also covering you in the entrails of the dead animals. You can feel the blood seep into your clothes, sticking to your skin, trying to climb your way out of the pile of gore. A hand emerges from the darkness, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go now!” Ghost yells at you over the horrible sounds the Wendigo is making. Wiping the blood from your eyes the best you could, you see Ghost pick up your flashlight and gun; you don’t think you have ever been so happy to see him in your life. 

You both run back towards the ladder, not wanting to spend any longer down here with the burning Wendigo than needed. Once you reach the ladder, Ghost pushes you to go first; climbing up the ladder as fast as you can was made a little difficult due to the blood covering you from head to toe, causing you to slip every once in a while, though Ghost was there to catch you every step of the way. Finally, you reach the opening, letting out a breath of relief. You squeeze back out of the cellar door, moving to help pull Ghost out, grabbing under his armpit and dragging him out. Once you were both out of the hellhole, you grab the door and slam it shut, locking the door for the final time and falling back onto the floor. Ghost was sprawled out beside you, breathing heavily. 

Being back upstairs, you see the sunlight peeking in from outside through the busted windows and cracks in the house; you feel the pain, fear, and anxiety leave your body at the sight you all made it to morning. After catching your breath, Ghost stands up and extends his arm out to help you up, “damn, Spark. You should just probably plan on burning your clothes.” 

Looking down at your outfits, covered in blood and god knows what else, you laugh, “yea, I think that is for the best. Thank you for saving me.” you reply, looking back into Ghost eyes that have a fondness in them. Instead of replying, he just jerks his head towards the living room, where the others are waiting. 

Slowly trudging back into the room, hearing the others converse quietly amongst themselves, realizing that you can hear Laswell's voices, knowing that means they were able to get into contact with her while you and Ghost were down in the cellar. Once you step into the room, all eyes snap towards your form, and all conversations stop. “Bloody hell, what happened to you!?” exclaimed Gaz, his eyes wide looking at your bloody form. 

Shrugging your shoulder, grinning wildly, you reply, “Oh, nothing much. Just killing a fucking Wendigo!” 

Gaz and Soap cheer in response while you hear Price chuckling. Walking back to where you left your tactical vest and other gear, you begin to put them back on and where they go amongst your armor, seeing Ghost do the same out of the corner of your eye. 

Price, who was holding the radio, shakes it in the air, “Well, I am glad you are both back up here safe. While you were both down there, we were able to get through to Laswell, and Nikolai was on his way to pick us up. The rendezvous point is about half a mile from here, so if we leave now, we will be able to make it in time.”Price is now standing in front of you and Ghost, hands on his hips, staring at you both like a proud dad. 

Gaz slowly moves to sit up, his left hand holding onto his stomach where the stitches are, trying to be as careful as possible not to pop any of them. “Thank God! I can’t wait till this is all a horrible nightmare.” 

Nodding in agreement, you help Ghost pack up all the equipment quickly, putting the sleeping mats, blankets, and small pillows back in their appropriate bags. Looking around at how quickly you all managed to get everything packed up and ready to go, you think this might honestly be a new personal best for your team. Picking up and handing everyone their prospective weapons, you move to help Gaz walk, but before you can wrap your arms around him, he stops you, “Um...Spark. No offense, but you really stink. I think it would be best if you just let Price help me.” 

Price, who had already had one arm wrapped around Gaz’s middle, handed you the radio, “Here, you can be in charge of this and keep watch then until we get back to base and can hose you down.” 

Grabbing the radio from Price, you nod your head in agreement, smiling at them both, “Haha, fair enough.” 

Ghost has Soap in the fireman’s carry, much to Soap’s dismay; laughing as you make your way to the front door, leading the way for everyone, you call out over your shoulder, “Isn’t he too heavy to hold like that Ghost?” 

“No” 

You all make your way out of the dilapidated house and out into the forest; looking down into the bright snow on the ground, you pause in your steps, kneeling down and collecting a handful of snow and rubbing it over your face to try and clean some of the blood off. Standing back up, you step over the now blood-red snow. After walking in silence most of the way, you hear the familiar sound of Nikolai’s helicopter blades; stepping into the clearing, you see him waiting, leaning up against the helicopter, smoking a cigarette. 

“Finally, I was beginning to think I would have to leave your asses here.” He states, and he pushes himself off the helicopter, walking towards Price, shaking each other's hands while Nikolia claps him on the back in familiarity. Ghost slides Soap off his shoulder and onto the closest seat in the helicopter; Soap's face is pale, and he looks a little motion sickness from the long trek here. 

Nikolia walks back up to the front of the helicopter and opens the door, moving into the pilot sea,t waiting for everyone to get situated before taking off. Price helps Gaz step up into a seat, carefully buckling him in the seat and placing a pair of headphones over his ears. Seeing everyone else has found a seat, you grab ahold of the bar to pull yourself inside when a noise from behind you makes you pause; turning around, you glance at your surroundings; not seeing anything, you shrug your shoulders and continue climbing on board. Horrific screeching makes your blood run cold, whipping around, you see the badly burned Wendigo running awkwardly towards you, a terrifying look in its yellow eyes. 

Screaming, you fall back onto the floor of the helicopter, everyone yelling different things. Ghost beings shooting at the creature, trying to hit its legs to stop its ascent upon you all, but all it does is cause it to stumble and beings clawing its way forward. Frozen in fear, all you could think about was how close you all were to escaping from the Wendigo, when the front door of the helicopter opened. Nikolai throws a Molotov at the Wendigo, effectively killing it, its burning body collapsing onto the snowy ground, the screeching stopping. 

Sitting back in his seat, Nikolai mutters under his breath, “I fucking hate Wendigos, they are such a pain.” 

Still in shock at what just happened, everyone silently moves back into their seats, buckles in, and places the headphones over their ears as Ghost shuts the door and Nikolai takes off. 

Leaning back in your seat, you look around at all your teammates' faces. You are just glad that everyone is still alive, with just some minor injuries, after everything that you all just went through. Smiling wickedly, you let out a cackle, causing everyone to turn and look at you. “Well, So Much for a Safe House, huh.” 

----------

Bonus: 

Laswell stands at the front of the hospital room, looking angry and awaiting an explanation from someone, anyone. Soap, you, and Gaz all lay in beds in front of her, listening to the constant beeping of the machines you are all hooked up to. Soap ended up having to have surgery on his ankle to fix the damage done to the bones. He had to have several screws and plates placed in his ankle, which now is wrapped in a cast, propped up on a mountain of pillows. Luckily, Gaz did not have to have any surgery, though they did redo his stitches across his chest, and they properly cleaned his wounds before rewrapping them in gauze. Though they did find out that he did have a minor concussion, which makes you a little nervous since he did take quite a few naps between getting the concussion and now, but the doctors say he will be just fine. It turns out you had gotten pretty injured, too, from your scuffle with the creature in the cellar. Both your arms had suspicious-looking bruises, and your ribs ended up being broken and close to puncturing your lungs. The doctors were shocked that you were even still standing in the state you were in. They fixed the damage the best they could with surgery and now have you under strict rules about moving too much, not that you could anyway, with the amount of bandages they have you wrapped in and machines hooked up to you.

Price and Ghost, although they were not hurt, were still in the room as well, coming to visit you all at least once throughout the day. They were sitting in hospital chairs next to your beds, looking anywhere but Laswell, who now stands with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“So, you all mean to tell me. You don’t know what happened to cause three of you to end up in the hospital with varying injuries.” 

Price looks at Laswell and leans back in his chair, “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.” 

[nohoney]

i miss writing us series! touya so here's something slightly ooey gooey; cherry hill set the mood for me ♡( ᵕᴗᵕ )

touya can’t help his fascination at times.

he’s mesmerized by how you and keigo fuck. not in a sense that what’s being done is different than how he wrecks you, but that he’s just in awe of watching on the sidelines. that when you’re lost in the fuck, your awareness and the slight shyness you still have sometimes gets tossed out the window.

like right now, keigo’s got you face down and ass up as he fucks himself into you. he fucks hard and fast, leaning over slightly to put his hand on your head and push you back down to the mattress when you attempt to put your weight on your forearms to prop yourself up. you whimper and whine some broken version of his name that’s drowned out by the sound of skin slapping against one another. “fuckin’ take it… fuck!”

he can’t help but want to close the distance.

touya comes up behind keigo, nipping at his ear briefly before glancing down over his shoulder. oh my god, your pussy is so creamy and he can’t help licking his lips when he sees the sticky strings that don’t break when keigo pulls his hips back and thrusts back into you.

fucking delectable.

his cock gets hard but he doesn’t bother to pay any attention to it, at least not in that moment. instead he makes a grab for keigo’s ass, startling him as he presses balls deep into you. his body quakes a little but not in discomfort from the touch; he likes it.

it’s not like they hadn’t explored each other before. there was a time before you came along and became the center of their world. there was a time when touya and keigo kept a distance as strangers, from a connect to a buyer, from making transactions with cash to fronting occasionally if he felt generous and was wanting to fix his appetite rather than fill his wallet.

“pull back a little, i want to see hard how your dick is.” touya whispers in keigo's ear, helping by smoothing his hand from his ass up to his arm, following the muscles of the blond's forearm to where his hand rests on your hip. his fingers fill the small gaps in between keigo's briefly, your skin right under his grasp before touya's hand goes to the small of your back and pushes you slowly away. he thinks it would be enough to just catch a quick glance, that it's not necessary for the blond to pull out completely from your pussy.

fuck me... touya groans inside his head.

you're pushed with enough force for keigo's dick to slip out, grunting as you fall into the bed.

“nngh… please…” you whimper from below, glancing the best you can from your vantage point to see your boyfriends captured in some intimate glance. your eyes drift down and your mouth waters at the sight of touya jerking off keigo's cock, your cum aiding the motion as lube and making it glide easily on touya's grasp.

it’s hot, you like seeing them like this, but god you’re being ignored over here!

you plead again and couple it with a whine that gets no response from either of them.

"spread her open."

keigo's hands smooth over your ass cheeks, his thumbs dipping towards your hole as he helps spread your labia for touya's viewing pleasure. he groans when the pad of touya's thumb smears your cum over his tip before stroking him again. his nails dig slightly into your skin but he's mindful to not do it so hard for your comfort. his body shakes a little, needing the release so badly but being held back. he doesn't care how he cums whether it's by using your pussy or if touya keeps on stroking his dick.

he just wants to cum.

"god, look how fucking hard you are. all from fucking that sweet pussy, huh?" touya mutters into his ear with a light chuckle, "aren't you so grateful that we share this hole now?"

"yes, fuck!" keigo hisses, throwing his head back and his hips shifting forward.

it's almost like you're being left out and it makes you a little jealous. you've always been the center of attention, whether they were being mean or nice to you so you can't help but feel a little indignant in the position you're in now. so you attempt to move, if only just to put yourself on your back because you're tired of keeping your back arched.

keigo keeps his grip firm on you, still spread open but releasing one hand briefly to land a sharp spank on your thigh. you yelp from the strike but it still doesn't earn you anything from either of them. it's like they're only lost in each other and you don't matter. touya can be heard crooning but his voice belongs to keigo's ears right now. "i like watching you fuck, it's hot. you know what i like even more though?"

only mustering a little noise, it's the closest that the blond is able to ask what do you like more?

"i like feeling your cum around my cock when i fuck her."

his words carry an intimacy that makes you melt in spite how filthy they were. because who else would touya do this with if not keigo? no one else could get this close, this loving and adoring version of touya that no one else has seen. it belongs to the two of you only.

"cum in her so that i can have my turn." touya pushes himself off and gives the space for keigo to return to his frenzied fucking. he relishes in hearing you cry out, allowing himself to lower his pants just enough to pull his cock out and jerk himself off. he ears listen to your sounds and cries but his eyes are set on keigo's body and the way his muscles flex as he makes you a fucked out mess.

he loves this. he loves keigo. he loves you.

he wants this to last forever.

"fuckin'... fuck!" keigo curses, fumbling over himself as he cums inside you. his body still tingles as he withdraws from you, wiping the sweat from his brow as he steps aside for touya.

you're roughly flipped over and your knees are pressed to your chest so that touya can survey the creamy mess that is your pussy. keigo's cum drips out and down the seam of your ass. it's a disgustingly sexy sight for him that makes his cock twitch and no longer having any patience.

it's so fucking wet and easy to slip right in, his cock coated with keigo's cum and your pussy stretched open already. when touya goes in first, you're always so tight that he has to ease you open before he can pound away at your guts. if keigo fucks you first, he does the job of leaving you gaping open for him to go in second. it's a routine that benefits everyone. he warms up by watching you and keigo fuck and then he gets his turn without feeing the need of cumming too fast when he gets inside.

"touya! f-fuck!" you whimper, your legs locking in around his hips and feeling your heels dig into his lower back. it's cute to him how cock drunk you get but he has to keep you proper by reminding you of your manners. so touya slaps your cheek and holds your jaw in the palm of his hand, "what do you say? what do you say to kei?"

you whimper, "th-thank you, keigo!"

"i swear to god, you are getting a little more selfish and forgetting your manners." touya tuts at you but it's not that harsh of a reprimand. in fact he likes that you're getting spoiled because it gives him the opportunity to bully you when it pleases him. you're his precious doll and he is going to coddle you for as long as he lives, but touya has to balance you out as well so that you don't get too lazy or bratty on him either.

you seem to disagree, shaking your head and looking to keigo for a bit of kindness which is granted. he rubs at your clit and you choke out a gasp, your eyes shutting tight and the back of your head digging into the bed. "you're such a sweet girl, aren't you? look how good of a fuck toy you are."

again, touya finds himself fascinated as he observes keigo cooing over you.

this is perfect, this is his life, this is love to him.

and when he cums inside, touya remembers that keigo coats him all around too. being together like this reminds him that not all things in life are bad. you're such a mess where he's got you, filled with cum from two of your loves and practically bursting with so much sentiment that it makes you stupid. your glassy eyes and breathy moans are a reflection of that, looking forward at him but your head up in the clouds.

"baby, come back to us. aw, look how cute you are."

touya pulls out of you, letting keigo take the reins of making you comfortable after fucking your brains out. his heart oozes with affection as you kiss keigo first and flash him a lovesick smile before giving the same affection to him. your legs are wobbly as you make your way to the bathroom to clean up, leaving the boys behind in the room.

"think i'll help her clean up." keigo stands up from the bed, stretching his back and groaning at how good it feels in his muscles. he glances back at touya to flash him a smile.

touya stands up too, only taking a small step and leaning down to kiss him. it's brief, not like the long ones he gives to you but it's long enough that he knows it sends the message of how he feels towards keigo.

"love you." he says when he pulls back.

"love you too." keigo returns the sentiment before walking away.

touya isn't the type to feel giddy about anything in particular. but he does get a nice little fluttery feeling in his chest as he walks by the bathroom after putting his clothes back on and briefly listens to yours and keigo's muffled voices speaking to one another. you laugh and he hears some slap that suggests that one of you playfully slapped the other.

he hears a louder slap and you yelp, "keigo! too hard!"

touya chuckles a little, grabbing his pack of cigarettes off the table to step outside, relishing in the glow up until he gets a text from shigaraki.