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wheneclipsefalls · 8 months ago

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Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect.

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures.

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out.

His reward for all that he has had to endure.

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying.

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort.

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal.

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him.

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit.

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses.

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair.

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are.

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you.

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap.

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy.

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know.

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have.

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek.

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter.

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both.

Later, he reminds himself.

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily.

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy.

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours.

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back.

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it.

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls.

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.”

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.”

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep.

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale.

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower.

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.”

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn.

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.”

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience.

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan.

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner.

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow.

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight.

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt.

A sharp smirk cuts into his features.

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs.

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more.

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running.

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths.

And then your breathing is cut all together.

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt.

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels.

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.”

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability.

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again.

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs.

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection.

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air.

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards.

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip.

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow.

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out.

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger.

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest.

Neteyam keeps it sheathed.

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!”

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.”

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm.

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures.

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves.

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises.

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer.

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear.

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights.

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to.

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames.

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible.

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention.

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole.

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs.

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else.

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor.

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers.

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button.

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee.

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets.

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own.

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair.

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth.

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place.

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment.

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away.

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing.

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop.

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him.

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of.

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms.

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning.

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle.

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied.

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time.

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips.

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?”

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same.

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.”

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver.

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations.

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you.

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him.

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.”

Your alarm flares up once more.

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish.

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his.

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.”

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out.

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor.

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys.

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more.

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload.

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place.

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly.

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.”

And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows.

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids.

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union.

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss.

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper.

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else.

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over.

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong.

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust.

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek.

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations.

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom.

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him.

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper.

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts.

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark.

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible.

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly.

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again.

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same.

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.”

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out.

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat.

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @sullybrothersmate @criticallybella @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheeempty @erenjaegerwifee

I know there are people I probably missed. It's getting harder and harder to keep track of this taglist so don't be offended if you aren't on there. Also, a good portion of these aren't linking properly so check to see if I have entered it in correctly and if so, you might want to look into your account.

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k0mmari · 26 days ago

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Sword Spirit AU - Xiu Ya (pt.1)

Hello hello! This is going to be a very very casual AU with the first half being dedicated to Xiu Ya(jiuyuan) and the other Xin Mo(bingyuan), so sit tight, relax, and maybe put on some Soul Eater in the background, because this is basically it.

This post is going to be VERY LONG, so sorry in advance ^^;;

It's finally time for Shen Jiu to go to Wan Jian Peak and get his spiritual sword, one of the final steps for his Shizun to finally, oficially, name him Head Disciple, even if the rest of Qing Jing will most likely fight Shizun in her decision.

It would be no surprise, ever since SJ stepped foot there, rumors have been spreading about him, usually about how he only got in so late due to Yue Qi's influence, or how he paid his way in as a young master (as if the rest of the disciples hadn't done exactly that) and thinks he's better than everyone, or how he never fights fair and uses underhanded methods during spars. All rumors don't hold a drop of truth in them of course, but SJ has better things to do than trying to clean his image to a bunch of spoiled brats.

It's not like any of them would believe him, anyways.

In all honesty, he'd rather not be Head Disciple at all, but this is the best way at getting to a secure enough spot that he won't have to worry as much about his safety, even if he will be forced to look after a bunch of children he couldn't care less about. Anyways, SJ's only hope now for something to go marginally right his way is for him to get a good sword.

He gets to the sword wall and, as luck would have it, he feels a pull, calling him to a beautiful sword: elegant, refined and everything SJ desperately hopes he can be.

SJ carefully pulls the sword out of the wall and immediatelly he can feel a connection forming, his slugish qi rushing into the blade and in exchange, a flash of bright, almost refreshing qi runs through him. For a moment his muscles relax as he feels the sword gently humming in his hand.

He walks away from the wall, a few of the other disciples that also had come to retrieve their spiritual sword already holding their own blades, but the only person that SJ cares to show his own sword stands a bit further away. His ever aloof Shizun and... Yue Qi, who was not invited, but decided to come anyways. Great.

YQ wastes no time in praising his sword and how it's a perfect fit for 'Xiao-Jiu' (which only earns him a nasty side-eye), but SJ controls his urge to bite the other boy and focuses on his Shizun. She merely send the sword a glance, unimpressed, and instead says "Disciple Shen has now a spiritual blade of his own. He will get to know his blade, which will aid him with his... cultivation problems, but also raise his cultivation to new heights."

SJ grinds his teeth, not wanting to be reminded about his shitty cultivation, but thankfully, Shizun doesn't dwell on the topic. "When Disciple Shen fully becomes one with his sword, the blade will reward him and show it's true self. It is only then that Disciple Shen will become a truly honorable cultivator."

True... Self? With a subtle glance, SJ confirms even YQ looks a bit surprised, apparently also never haven heard about a swords 'true self', but Shizun doesn't ellaborate any further on it, instead moving on as if she hadn't said anything special, and turning to head back to Qing Jing, uncaring if any other disciples weren't done getting their swords yet.

She unsheathes her own spiritual sword, intending on letting her disciples walk all the way back, but before setting off, she turns towards SJ. "Disciple Shen, the name of your sword."

SJ huffs but brings his sword closer, and reads the engraving on the base of the blade. "...Xiu Ya."

Just as SJ finishes reading the name out loud, the sword starts violently vibrating, catching SJ and his Shizun off guard, and it flings itself off of SJ's hands, flying a short distance before it stabbed the ground.

SJ's hands are left hanging in the air where he once held the sword, frozen stiff in his shock. It certainly doesn't help that is Shizun, who is never phased and now looks visibly shocked, mutters to herself: "I... didn't know a sword could do that."

.........Great.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week after the whole... situation on Wan Jian, SJ is now convinced his spiritual sword hates him.

It just... doesn't do anything he wants it to do! If his Shizun orders him to spar with another disciple with it, Xiu Ya could randomly just fling itself out of his hand, or physically pull him in another direction when he is speaking with another disciple, and no matter how Shizun instructs him to send his qi to the blade, to 'connect' with it, Xiu Ya refuses to cooperate, one day even straight up denying his qi.

Unbeknownst to SJ, his sword is no longer a regular spiritual blade, and actually a host for a recently deceased Shen Yuan, who woke up from his sleep to his new owner pulling him out of the wall and promptly panicked when he heard his name be declared Xiu Ya, which could only mean his new owner was none other than the scum villain himself, SQQ.

It was then and there that SY decided it would be now his life's mission to stop any evil wrongdoings a teenage SQQ must get up to. (It translated to him flinging himself out of SJ's hand any time he felt himself getting too close to another disciple's skin, or vibrating angrily when SJ started to insult someone.)

SJ takes Xiu Ya to his Shizun, and even to Wan Jian's Peak Lord, to check if there's something wrong with his sword, or if he had done soemthing wrong, but both reassure him that the sword is fine, and it must be testing him, urging him to 'clear his heart' to better connect with it.

SJ, feeling like his chance at being Head Disciple is slipping through his fingers the longer he can't get a hold of his own sword, it's supposed to obey him, tends more often than not to... argue with it. It, of course, only creates more rumours about him and his 'cursed sword', but he doesn't have time for this, and he won't let a piece of metal ruin his chances at rising up the ranks.

Everything starts to change one fateful day where everything just seems to go wrong all at once for SJ: His Shizun goes away in a three-day long mission, which leaves him the responsability to look after the peak, and none of the other disciples are willing to make it easy for him, constantly getting in his way, purposefully waisting his time and straight up insulting him to his face.

Yue Qi even tries to grace SJ with his presence, but it takes him no longer than 5 minutes before he manages to say the wrong thing, and it takes even less for it to snowball into SJ expelling him from the peak unless the whole Sect is set on fire. It gets so bad even SY, usually happy to mostly daydream where he sits sheathed at SJ's waist, takes note of it, and gets a bit concerned for the boy.

SY already notices SJ's spiritual veins where all sorts of messed up, but it only becomes relevant when he notices his qi heading straight towards a qi deviation, and no matter how SY tries to vibrate and wiggle, it only seems to upset SJ even further and by the end of the day, as SY suspected, SJ hides away at the bamboo house and falls to the floor, gasping through a qi deviation.

He'd usually just tough his qi deviations out, or pass them at the Warm Red Pavillion, but now he isn't even afforded the mercy of being to suffer alone, as some disciple might come looking for his 'help', and he'd be damned if someone snitched on him to Shizun for not doing his duty as (unnoficial) Head Disciple.

SY, as much as he doesn't really like SJ, for once understands SJ's constant state of frustration when the moment the Peak Lord leaves, his peers treat him like this, and no matter how shitty SJ is- or, rather, may become in the future, SY can't stand being idle as he watches the boy shaking on the floor, gasping in pain.

It's a bit awkward but SY manages to make himself float over towards SJ's trembling body, trying his best to project his own energy outward and reach towards SJ. It's there for only a second, but SY manages to feel a similar connection to when SJ first picked him up, and SY can feel, in a weird flash, the mix of emotions swirling in SJ's soul: his anger, his frustration, but most importantly his deeply rooted sadness, and fear.

It's not really an explanation for why SJ acts the way he does, but SY can understand when a child lashes out in fear when that's all they know. He reaches into SJ's qi, carefully patting it down and soothing it until SJ finally stops trembling and slumps onto the ground, knocked out.

Maybe... Maybe Shen Yuan was in the wrong, and Shen Jiu deserves a second chance.

#wow that was a lot #so sorry #there will be more to come #i like making sj suffer just a little bit #for spice #komm's sword spirit au #svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #jiuyuan #scumcum #svsss au #drabble #long post #very long post #this took way longer than I thought #specially that last drawing

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natalchartnurtures · 1 month ago

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PAC: What Do People Find Pretty About you?

I'm backk (oh and happy new year, people)

Pile 1: The reading starts with the message- "marching to the beat of your drum," so I'm guessing you love to do your own thing? This quality/essence of yours is exactly what people find pretty about you. You EXUDE this airy-fairy kinda ethereal energy, laced with an almost Aquarian and Gemini-like quality. You have your own blueprint, set of beliefs, and ideas that you LIVE by, and your beauty is inspired by your individuality.

For example, say you grew up in a culture where most people are fair-skinned, but you have darker skin. You absolutely love and adore your skin for what it is, and because you embrace it, others love it by extension. Whatever stands out about you in the society you live in right now is what people find pretty about you. Say you have long hair when the norm is short hair—well, that's what people find pretty about you. They find your unique features breathtaking. It’s otherworldly.

You know, you give me Maeve Wiley vibes from Sex Education. She had her own style going on, and didn’t we absolutely love her for it? Her edgy vibe contrasted against the more simplistic vibe of the rest of the town. Yeah, there’s something about that which STANDS OUT and beckons for people’s attention (even if you’re not out here actively seeking attention). And boy, is it refreshing AF. You don’t know just how much you bring to the table by being yourself ��.

You may like to dress "intelligently," or your natural style simply makes you look really smart, and this adds to that Aqua/Gemini quality that others find so pretty about you. Maybe you’re into graphic tees? Or your clothing simply makes people think, you know? Your style is different, and gosh, it’s so, soooo pretty (I really hope you understand that by the end of this read, haha).

You seem to take on a more carefree and blasé approach to your physical appearance, and it’s MAGNETIZING. Side note: I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people, lmao. It’s so funny because that’s such an Aqua quality, hahaha.

Moving on—it seems like you’ve never let go of your connection to your inner child, and this keeps you fun, joyous, and energetic. This is something people instantly notice about you, and they LOVE IT SO MUCH. You brighten people’s days with your little giggles, pranks, and jokes (even if they’re dark).

Again, there’s something deeply unconventional about you that’s soooo pretty. Like, it’s almost as if you are your own beauty standard, you know? Haha, you’re a trendsetter, aren’t you? It’s reminding me of Rihanna’s energy—how different she looks from Western beauty standards, but boy, does she make WAVES with her presence alone.

What’s pretty about you transcends the material realm. It’s your faith in the divine shining through your eyes when you walk past a stranger on the street, or the endless energy you contain because you’re so connected to source (or whatever “god” you believe in). This openness to anything or anyone that comes your way is what makes you OH so pretty ✨️.

Thanks for reading, sweet Pile 1! Have a good rest of your day/night 😊

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2: Your spirit message to open your reading said- “CUTE AF.” Haha, people seem to find you cute AF, Pile 2! That’s what makes you pretty. You may be the type of person who has the perfect ratio of cute and pretty, like Lisa or Rosé from Blackpink. You have a certain charm about you that people can’t seem to shake off, and boy, it sticks for a while. You’re unforgettable.

You’re incredibly physically attractive too (you might be very aware of this 😏), and boy, need I say more? Side note: People find your chest area, boobies, and décolletage really freaking pretty 😍.

You have a side to you that you NEVER show people—your softer, mushy, gushy, sensitive, unconditional-love side (for obvious reasons, hello?). And people seem to sense that you’re hiding SOMETHING. Usually, they can’t guess what it is, and they find this super mysterious, enchanting, and ALLURING. They want to know this other side of you. They want to bring it out (and by "they," I mean anyone interested in getting to know you deeper). This makes you irresistibly pretty, Pile 2.

I see that you’re an incredibly humble person, and this only adds to the magnitude of PRETTINESS I already told you about! Sheesh. Could you be any more charming and awesome? Side note: People really appreciate the random acts of kindness you bestow on them when no one’s looking. If you have a habit of smiling at people (no matter who they are), this is perceived as reeeeeeally pretty 👀. (Also, it makes you all the more lovable?!)

You seem interested in bringing as much kindness as you humanly can into an inherently unkind world, and this honestly takes your physical beauty to another level! Your heart is so generous and pure, kind of like Leo or Cancer energy. You don’t stand for injustice, and you MAKE IT KNOWN (quietly or not 💅🏾). It’s almost as if you have the ability to love people’s hearts back to life again if they’ve been through injustice, which is honestly so precious. You’re a national treasure, Pile 2!

What’s beautiful and pretty about you is how you naturally allow people to feel safely vulnerable around you. You seem like someone who can listen to people’s woes and almost make them disappear 😶‍🌫️. Haha, I love that.

People can slow down around you (because of your energy, bruh) and let down their guard, even if it’s only for a moment. It’s a beautiful gift you have. I’m happy you exist. BIG HUGS, Pile 2!

I love you so much, and have a wonderful day/night!

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3: Message to open your reading- "You GIVE Sabrina Carpenter vibes." "You serve MOTHER vibes." Lol, a lot of people seem to thirst after your maternal vibe, Pile 3. You’re out here taking care of people, huh? Let’s get into it—

What people find pretty about you is your cozy, emotionally healthy, and prosperous energy. It’s almost like people feel “taken under your wing,” as if an angel is taking them in to help heal and rejuvenate them. You have angel vibes, Pile 3, and that’s what’s PRETTY about you.

You might have really pretty (and really watery?) eyes with big natural lashes, and they look very glossy and big—lowkey like anime eyes 👀. Tehe ✨️. Love that!

You seem very protective of the people you love, and they really appreciate that about you. That’s what makes you so pretty. Maybe when you defend someone close to you who’s been wronged—say you’re arguing with the offender—you might come off really attractive to people. The passion with which you protect is SEXY, baby. Keep 👏🏾 it 👏🏾 up 👏🏾.

You’re like this stable figure in your life to a lot of people. So many of them lean on you for support and come to you with their problems, and you happily help them. Side note: I hear this incredibly helpful and giving nature of yours is going to bring A LOT of abundance into your life, so keep an eye out for it, hehe.

Also, a slightly off-topic message keeps coming in STRONG—there’s a specific person (romantic) who wants to dedicate a song to you. It’s called “Made For Me” by Muni Long. Maybe it’s how they’re feeling about you right now? Take this only if it resonates :)

Moving on with your reading now, you seem to be a guiding light in people’s lives, kind of like a lighthouse for lost boats, so to speak. Your beauty follows closely with this wisdom of yours, and that’s what people find pretty about you. You wear your wisdom like a warrior wears armor, and gosh, that’s very beautiful, almost in an enchanting way.

You have seer energy about you, and maybe it reflects in how you present yourself? Maybe you seem very calm and grounded? Maybe you have great hygiene or look really put together? If so, this is really pretty, Pile 3 :).

It’s like your energy is medicine to people who are naturally anxious. You allow them to seek respite from their own minds, and boy, does that make you so PRETTTTTAYYYYYY, ugh.

Thanks for reading, my sweet Pile 3. Have yourself a wonderful day/night, and keep being the stable, sexy baddie that you are, hehe 😊🫂. Love you! <3

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

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yutarot · 1 month ago

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cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago.

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask.

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply.

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.

but you weren't going to say no.

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do.

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagine how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say.

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.

your love.

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.

it’s love.

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire vacation (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”

you turn to him in offence.

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.

not even close.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin

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strawchocoberry · 2 months ago

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‘CAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. heavily self-insert/mindy lore, kaiser’s birthday present, fluff interlaced with angst, slow, intimate sex at the end

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. how much he means to you — word count. 2.4k

December 25th.

And while the rest of the world is exhilarated, celebrating Christmas, for Kaiser today is just another day. Maybe one with more happiness and whatever is supposed to be this so-called ‘Christmas spirit,’ but still it’s just another day.

You don’t even realise when Kaiser has left your bed. You wake up disoriented and alone in your bed, faint traces of him sleeping next to you lingering in the room. You take a deep breath and steel yourself.

It was pure coincidence you found out that today is his birthday. Knowing him, he will just want to spend the day with you, give you your Christmas gift and maybe go out for a little stroll. Not even mentioning that today is his birthday, not even a small hint or anything. Even so, you want to make this day a little bit special for him. But you know you have to be careful and subtle about it, otherwise Kaiser might either explode or isolate himself from you.

The day officially starts when he returns from the private gym of your apartment building. For all his grumbling about being too much of an unnecessary hassle to decorate the apartment, Kaiser has to take a moment to admire how beautiful this morning is, watching you, unaware of his presence, setting up breakfast on the coffee table next to the tree you had decorated together. So many new things you “forced” him to do, things he somehow found enjoyable. But only because he did them with you.

The day passes by before you realise it. Despite your protests, Kaiser has bought you one gift, insisting that it’s from Santa, though he himself never believed in the guy. He doesn’t want a gift from you, your beautiful smile as he insists on you opening your gift is all he needs. He had wanted to buy you more gifts. In fact, he was planning on making you a tower the size of your Christmas tree made of gifts. But you had insisted on not wanting any gifts, so he searched high and low to find the perfect gift, something small and personal, something you wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Unwrapping his gift, your eyes widen at the beautiful ring with a sapphire blue gem curved in the shape of a rose. You’re truly left speechless, admiring the craftsmanship of the ring. Kaiser, sitting on the floor next to you, props his elbow on his knee, leaning against his hand, and observes you with a small smile on his lips. That’s exactly how he had imagined your reaction.

“You always tell me how much you like your reflection in my eyes, so I thought you could look at this ring and maybe think of me when I’m away,” he says simply, though his heart is beating so fast, Kaiser thinks it might burst. He realises he’s feeling anxious. Anxious that you might reject his gift. The thought alone is enough to make him want to kill himself.

You surprise him before he spirals down in a loop of self-destructive thoughts by softly saying, “It’s perfect, thank you, my love.” He doesn’t have the time to say anything as you press your lips to his in a slow, intimate kiss that clears the fog from his mind. Kaiser lets himself fall under your spell, pulling you closer to him and getting lost in the overwhelming feelings you pour in your kiss.

Kaiser doesn’t realise when you carefully pull a necklace out of your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, clasping the necklace around his neck. When he pulls back, he looks down, taking in the blue rose pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes shoot up to meet yours and before he opens his mouth, you shut him up with another kiss.

“You don’t need to force yourself to look happy or grateful right now,” you whisper against his lips when you pull slightly back, your eyes locking with his. “You can throw this pendant away right now if you want. But I thought you deserved a gift too today.” You pause, your eyes searching his, trying to gauge his reaction. But his expression is unreadable, even to you. “I just didn’t want to be the only one receiving a gift today,” you say with a small laugh, hinting how you knew he would definitely get you something.

Kaiser is silent for a long moment. Usually, the pendant would feel like a noose choking him, but it doesn’t. Because it came from you. And he can tell you put great thought into this gift and you needed even greater courage to give it to him, knowing he would probably reject it. He’s in a loss for words, a foreign feeling blooming deep inside him. He only nods as a sign of acknowledging your words and gift, but neither thanks you nor takes the necklace off. Instead, he leans in for another kiss.

The rest of the day passes by in a flash. The two of you spend your time together, going on strolls on the park nearby with hot chocolates in hand and later retrieving to your home for more private moments, watching Christmas movies while cuddling in bed together. You haven’t mentioned anything about Kaiser’s birthday yet, not having yet understood how he feels about your earlier gift.

Kaiser hasn’t even thought of taking the necklace off. Whenever you’re focused on something else, he absent-mindedly touches it. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s definitely strange for him. He hates receiving gifts, hates to be forced to be grateful for things he didn’t ask. But something about the way you presented your gift and how you didn’t expect him to thank you, it struck a chord in him.

When the movie ends, the sun has already set outside. You carefully untangle yourself from his embrace, muttering to him to stay put. Kaiser quirks an eyebrow as he watches you leave the room, only to return a while later holding a white thick notebook with blue and red roses scattered all over its cover and back in your hands. You get back on the bed and sit next to him, hesitating before giving him the notebook.

“What’s this?” Kaiser asks curiously.

Your heart is pounding hard against your chest. “Read it,” you say softly, though your voice wavers just a bit, just enough to betray how nervous you’re feeling.

Kaiser notices your nervousness, but doesn’t push you to reveal the reason behind it. Instead, he turns his attention to the notebook. Flipping it open on the first page, his eyes instantly widen, reading the date; the date the two of you met. He reads through the first few lines, before turning to look at you with one of his cocky smirks.

“‘Today, I met the most arrogant bastard on earth,’” he reads what you’ve written. “‘God, I hope I never see him again. He was truly insufferable. Sure, he may be handsome and a star football player, but his personality sucks.’” Kaiser leans closer to your face, his smirk still intact. “So, I’m an insufferable, arrogant, handsome bastard, huh?”

“You are,” you respond, a spark of defiance igniting through your anxiety. “But now I’m better at handling your cocky imperial ass.”

“Is that so?” he questions. He goes back to reading the entries in the notebook. Not five minutes later, he closes it, frowning as he turns to look at you. “Are you seriously having me read how much you hated me when we first met?”

You can’t suppress a small laugh. You pull him against you, the back of his head resting against your chest, your fingers threading through his soft hair, as your chin sits gently on top of his head. “Just shut up and continue reading,” you whisper affectionately.

Kaiser, ever observant, doesn’t miss the slight tension in your body. Instead of addressing that though, he goes back to reading the notebook you gave him. As expected, the first few pages are filled with you complaining about him being a complete dick back when you first met. But slowly, he notices the change in your attitude, in the way you wrote about him, about the two of you. He watches through your words how you slowly fell in love with him, way earlier than you admitted it to him.

The pages transform in front of him the more he reads. As your relationship progresses, it’s not just your thoughts that fill the blank pages. The handwritten notes he had written for you, bookmarks of flowers from bouquets he had given you, receipts from places you had visited together and other little memoirs all glued to the pages next to small entries about how you felt for each and every one and how even his smallest gestures made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

None of you realise how much time has passed. At the beginning, Kaiser occasionally commented on things you had written, but the more he read, the more he immersed himself in this small world on paper you had created, the more silent he grew. And when he reaches the last entry, the one you wrote at midnight last night, you’re holding back your breath, your hands stopping their soothing motion in his hair. But he’s too lost in the words inked on the white page to notice that or the way you’re biting your lip hard, trying to stifle a sob or how fast your heart is beating against your chest.

December 25th

It’s currently midnight and you’re grumbling about how I’m writing something and not paying attention to you. My blue rose emperor is always demanding my attention. I just hope that now, a couple hours later, that you’re reading this notebook you’ve stopped grumbling.

I know you think nothing of this day, but I wanted to make it a little bit special for you. I love you, Michael. I loved you yesterday. I love you today. And I’ll love you tomorrow too. You’re my greatest gift and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always know that.

Happy Birthday, Michael ♡

Kaiser slowly closes the notebook, leaving it on the nightstand. He doesn’t move away from you, but he remains silent for a long time. You can practically see the gears shifting inside his head as he’s processing everything.

‘Happy Birthday,’ you wrote. Right, today is Kaiser’s birthday. After all these years, he had completely forgotten about it. He never told you, because it doesn’t matter to him. And yet somehow you found out nonetheless. And you even wanted to give him a gift, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him, knowing he hates surprises and gifts. Your thoughtfulness touches him greatly.

He slowly turns in your embrace, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your body tightly. “Michael?” you call out his name softly. But Kaiser doesn’t respond.

And then you feel it; tears soaking your blouse and his body shaking with his sobs. For a fraction of a second you’re stunned, before your arms hold him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back. A tear slips down your cheek and a soft smile curls up your lips. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head, softly murmuring, “I love you, Michael.”

Kaiser looks up at you, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears. He adjusts his position, leaning closer to you and cupping your cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs caressing your soft skin. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as if afraid to break this vulnerable moment between you. “I could have never asked for a better gift than you.”

His lips capture yours in a slow kiss, one filled with all the emotions and feelings he cannot convey with words. He’s overwhelming you in a whole different way than he usually does, making you get drunk on him. Kaiser slowly removes both your clothes until your bare bodies dance together in the sheets.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips. He kisses you, leaving you confused about his apology, but you realise what he meant when you feel him thrust slowly inside you, a slight discomfort spreading through your body at the lack of foreplay, but you don’t mind. You need to feel him as much as he does.

Even so, you can’t help but tease, “Impatient bastard.” The smile on your lips betrays how you couldn’t wait either.

Kaiser smirks, burying his face in the crook of your neck and peppering your neck with kisses and love marks. He doesn’t move, not yet, giving you time to adjust. Though the way your pussy tightens around his cock makes him groan slightly, barely holding himself back. He leans back to look at you, supporting himself on his elbows, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks.

“But you love me,” Kaiser whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his voice and his eyes. It’s not a statement, rather him trying to convince himself that it’s true. That what you have is as real for you as it is for him.

You wrap your arms around his neck gently, pulling him closer to you with a rare smile on your lips, one you reserve only for him. “I love you,” you whisper back and seal your words with a kiss, making every lingering doubt in his mind dissipate into nothing.

You feel Kaiser slowly start thrusting inside you, wanting both of you to feel every second of this moment. Between kisses and moans, he keeps murmuring how much he loves you and how much you mean to him, his love pouring inside you with each deliberate thrust. He’s consuming you, but simultaneously you’re consuming him.

“I feel like I’m stuck in a loop,” he confesses in a low voice, his words barely reaching your ears. He interlaces your fingers, holding your hand against the mattress, as he makes love to you.

You’re so full of him, you’re at a loss for words. For a moment, you don’t know what he’s thinking, but as his body moulds against yours, you know there’s no other place you’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kaiser whispers affectionately against your lips. “‘Cause I fell in love with you.”

#౨ৎ ─ strawchocoberry #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser fluff #michael kaiser smut

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little-jana · 2 months ago

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"Christmas With The Hotchner Boys"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, mentions of being alone, being called a "good girl", Jack being the cutest little Christmas elf

Words: 1.65k

Summary: Nobody should be alone on Christmas, the Hotchners make sure of that!

a/n: This is for anyone that feels lonely during the holidays! Merry Christmas! xo

Christmas wasn’t supposed to feel this lonely.

I stared at the blinking lights of my tiny tree, tucked into the corner of my living room. The scent of pine lingered faintly, but the holiday spirit hadn’t quite settled over me. It was my first Christmas in years spent away from my family, a choice born out of necessity rather than desire. A looming work deadline and a snowstorm that canceled flights had left me here—alone, or so I thought.

My phone buzzed on the counter, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Hotch.

Seeing his name flash on my screen made my heart flutter, a reaction I’d grown used to over the months. Aaron Hotchner had a way of showing up exactly when I needed him, even if he didn’t realize it.

I picked up the phone, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hotch, hey. What’s up?”

“Hi,” he said, his deep voice warm and familiar. “I just wanted to check in. I know you said you weren’t going home for Christmas. How are you holding up?”

I smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. Just a little... quiet around here.”

There was a pause, the kind of comfortable silence I’d grown to appreciate with him. “I thought that might be the case,” he said finally. “That’s why I’m outside your building.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “You’re... what?”

“Outside,” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Can you buzz me in?”

I hurried to the intercom, my heart pounding as I pressed the button. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at my door.

When I opened it, there he was, standing in the hallway with a small wrapped package in one hand and a faint smile on his face. But he wasn’t alone.

“Hi,” he said, stepping inside with Jack close behind him, clutching a box of cookies.

“Hi,” I said, my eyes flicking between the two of them. “What are you... what are you doing here?”

“Well, Jack and I were making cookies, and we realized we might’ve made too many,” Aaron said, his tone so casual it almost made me laugh. “And I didn’t want you to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Jack grinned up at me, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Dad said we should come over because Christmas is better with friends.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I knelt down to Jack’s level. “Is that so?”

He nodded earnestly. “And we brought the good cookies! Not the burnt ones.”

I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “Well, thank you for sharing. I’m honored.”

Aaron cleared his throat, holding out the wrapped package. “And this is for you.”

I took it carefully, my fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply.

I unwrapped the package slowly, revealing a leather-bound journal with a sleek, elegant design. It was beautiful, thoughtful, and so unmistakably him.

“You mentioned wanting to start journaling,” he said, almost shyly. “I thought this might help.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly. “Aaron, this is perfect. Thank you.”

Jack tugged on my sleeve, holding up the box. “Do you have a tree? We could put cookies under it for Santa.”

I glanced at Aaron, who gave me a small shrug and a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, leading Jack into the living room where my modest little tree stood.

Jack immediately set to work arranging cookies on a plate while I grabbed mugs for hot chocolate. Aaron followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I worked.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, my voice soft.

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “It didn’t feel right, leaving you alone tonight.”

“Still,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

He smiled then, that rare, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way. “You don’t have to thank me.”

When we returned to the living room, Jack was carefully inspecting the tree, his head tilted as he studied the decorations.

“It’s pretty,” he said, turning to me with a grin. “But it needs one more thing.”

“Oh?” I asked, crouching down beside him. “What’s that?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small star ornament, holding it up proudly. “We made this at school. Can I put it on?”

“Of course,” I said, helping him find the perfect spot near the top.

As Jack admired his handiwork, Aaron stepped closer, his arm brushing against mine. The warmth of his presence was grounding, and I felt myself relax in a way I hadn’t all night.

“Looks perfect,” Aaron said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. His eyes were soft, full of something unspoken, and the air between us felt charged in a way that made my pulse quicken.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

His hand brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his tone warm and intimate.

Jack’s voice broke the moment, calling out from across the room. “Can we watch a movie?”

Aaron chuckled, stepping back. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, my voice steadier now.

We spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, Jack nestled between us as we watched his favorite Christmas movie. His laughter filled the room, and for the first time in days, I felt a true sense of peace.

When the movie ended, Jack had fallen asleep, his head resting against Aaron’s shoulder. I helped Aaron tuck him into the spare bedroom, and as we stood in the doorway, watching Jack sleep, I felt a wave of emotion I couldn’t quite put into words.

“He’s amazing,” I said softly.

Aaron nodded, his expression tender as he looked at his son. “He is.”

We returned to the living room, and as I started tidying up, Aaron caught my wrist, stopping me.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice low.

I turned to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his eyes.

“Aaron...”

He stepped closer, his hand still holding mine. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not used to... this.”

“Letting someone in?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

I nodded, unable to find the words.

He smiled softly, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You’re doing a good job,” he murmured. “Better than you realize.”

The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Good girl,” he said, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I felt my knees go weak. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering, and I realized there was no hiding how much those words affected me.

“Aaron,” I whispered, my voice shaky.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I reached up, wrapping my arms around him. His embrace was strong, reassuring, and I felt myself relax against him completely.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

“Merry Christmas,” I said softly, my heart full to bursting.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff

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sugoi-and-spice · 4 months ago

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perfect, just perfect...

Serial Killer!Dabi x Reader x Serial Killer!Shigaraki

Summary: In which Dabi and Tomura Shigaraki are women-targeting serial killers and do what serial killers do. That’s it. That’s the fic.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Serial Killers/Slashers!AU, Explicit Smut, Non-Con/Rape, Kidnapping, Physical Abuse, Rough Sex, Asphyxiation, Mysoginy, Dead Dove: Do Not FUCKING Eat

A/N: Hey,, remember when I was gonna do a Halloween AU series? Neither do I!! Anyway, here's my first entry in my own event - out of order!! Enjoyyyy. (or not, this one's pretty gnarly ngl lol)

Cross-Posted on AO3

“P-Please… Stop, please…”

A smack. A loud one. Sounded like it was right across the face, and Dabi wouldn’t doubt if it was. Shigaraki really liked to mess up the face.

“Oh come on, you can beg better than that.”

“N-No, I— I…”

“No no — I know you can. You just were begging— begging fucking amazing too. Come on. Do it, you worthless slut.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette as he stood watch outside the reconstructed Toyota Hiace they made their base of operations. One they’d gutted the seats out of to make room for a full-size mattress and some metal grating dividing the front seats from the back.

A killing machine.

They parked it outside the city, in an endless valley of nature only ever occupied by a few off the grid campers. Ones that wouldn’t be suspicious of a lone van and two men in the middle of nowhere. They were also ones who typically had very few connections back home.

Who nobody would miss if they saw too much.

“Oi— I’m talking to you, slut! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Jesus, this must’ve been the thirtieth time that Shigaraki called her a slut this session. How uncreative could one demented incel be? He’d kind of expected more from the bastard…

Truth be told, he didn’t particularly like his partner in crime. They weren’t friends, they were barely even acquaintances. But they were kindred spirits. Two particularly violent young men who’d met on a particularly violent darknet forum about women.

And the inhumane positions they’d love to put them in.

Of course, just because they both lived for the end result, didn’t mean that they agreed on the journey there.

Shigaraki was a raging misogynist and by-the-book incel. He despised women, wanted to take revenge on them for everything he felt they did wrong to him. He wanted to make them bleed because he wanted to make them hurt. Because he was full of anger and disgust and hate.

Dabi was the opposite. He loved women. The unique beauty of every single one, the range of emotions they showed in their darkest, most desperate moments. Emotions he himself was never allowed to show. Ugh, the euphoria of it all. He loved women so much he wanted to see every part of them.

Including their insides.

“Come on you ugly fuck!” Shigaraki snapped from inside the van, “Scream! It’s all you’re fucking good for!”

…Truth be told, Dabi wasn’t sure why exactly he’d partnered up with Shigaraki of all people. He’d been looking for a co-pilot for this sick and twisted little endeavor of his for a while, and there had been many others in the forums who probably would’ve been better fits personality-wise, who seemed more agreeable. Guys who weren’t so picky about the girls they picked, who didn’t grumble and gripe when it came time to finally cleaning up their mess, who didn’t use the “standing watch” excuse when it came to carrying the bodies to the disposal spots.

Who didn’t put their disgusting fucking feet on his dashboard…

That being said, while they both lived almost exclusively on the other’s last nerve, they also had a strange, almost psychic symbiosis. They balanced each other out. Dabi was emotional and passionate, often getting over-excited by the next prospective victim, moved so intensely by his passion upon seeing a new girl walking down the street or sitting at the bar that he wanted to grab them right there and then. Shigaraki on the other hand was meticulous and paranoid, holding him back until he was absolutely sure that they wouldn’t get caught.

He kept them careful at the beginning of the kill.

Whereas Dabi, who truly believed that he held a lot of deep respect for the women they abducted, wanted to be careful with their bodies after the fact. Shigaraki grew bored easily and completely. He often wanted to just dump the bodies down a valley or in a back alley and move onto the next one. A broken toy wasn’t worth another second in his mind. But Dabi wanted better for the girls. He wanted them to have a proper burial. Deep, deep in the ground where nobody else could ever find them.

He kept them careful at the end of the kill.

Dabi exhaled a long stream of smoke as he considered where their latest little sylph would be buried. They had passed a grove of what looked like magnificent spider lilies on the way out of town.

Maybe he was thinking too much into all this, he kind of had to whenever it was Shigaraki’s turn. The brutish way in which he handled and defiled these girls, it always made Dabi contemplate just what redeeming factor he had ever seen in the guy.

And then he’d hear them, the screams Shigaraki managed to rip out of their victims. Screams that only came from a level of brutality Dabi would never be able to inflict himself. They were so unique, so beautiful, so perfect . And they were sounds that he’d never be able to hear if it weren’t for Shigaraki.

Truthfully, that alone was worth the endless collection of crushed Monster cans that littered the floor of his van.

It had gotten pretty quiet in there now. The screams, the pleading, even the choked little sobs of self-pity, all muted to nothing. There was only the creaking of tired mattress springs, Shigaraki’s heavy breathing and grunting, and the occasional sound of a slap followed by irritated mumbling. Yeah, she was losing all will to fight. Which meant it was just about time for—

“Oi,” Shigaraki snapped as if on cue, throwing the van door open, “She’s no fun anymore. You take her.”

Dabi took a long last drag of his cigarette, watching as Shigaraki climbed out and readjusted himself in his pants. His partner-in-crime gave him a weirded, disgusted look at the way he took his time.

“What’re you fucking staring at me for? You want me to off her or something?”

Dabi waved him off, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stepping it out, “Nah, nah. I’m on it.”

“Hop to it then,” Shigaraki barked, crossing his arms and leaning against the passenger door of the van, “We’ve been here long enough already.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Dabi retorted as he stepped into the van.

Shigaraki whipped around, “Get bent!”

“I’m trying to,” Dabi threw right back, slamming the van door closed behind him.

He quickly pulled back his cool once he was inside. It really was amazing how quickly and effectively Shigaraki pissed him off. But he knew he needed to simmer it. He didn’t want to let his own anger and hate slip out too much in front of his newest precious angel. He’d hate to scare her off.

Dabi turned back to her with a small, but reassuring smile, “Hello.”

Of course, she didn’t respond, didn’t even bother to look at him.

She laid in more or less the same position he’d left her to Shigaraki in. Arms and legs pulled wide, cuffed to the rods mounted on each side of the van. Her once smooth and spotless skin was now swollen and purple, black and yellow in some places even, where Shigaraki had managed to break a rib and an ankle. Dry blood caked her nose and the corner of her mouth while fresh blood seeped onto the mattress out of recent scratches and cuts Shigaraki had inflicted in a last ditch effort to make her wail again.

None of that bothered him though, quite the opposite actually. He loved a roughed up woman, one at her most natural and vulnerable. It was the beauty that got him into this in the first place. No, what Dabi turned his nose up at was Shigaraki’s loads spilling out of her abused pussy, all onto her raw, reddened thighs and the crumpled tear-stained sheets.

Ugh, see this is why he’d said no when Shigaraki asked if they should get an apartment together. The motherfucker never cleaned up after himself.

“P-Please…”

Dabi turned his attention back to her face, to her eyes, dull and lifeless, staring right through the back wall of the van.

“Just kill me already…”

Oh, this sweet thing, he thought, tilting his head at her sympathetically.

He climbed onto the mattress next to her then, resting a hand gently on her hip, careful not to put any pressure on the bruises littered there. She didn’t even flinch when he did it. She was that far gone.

“Kill you?” he asked, curiosity far from feigned.

“Aren’t you those serial killers that have been on the news lately? The ones that—” she couldn’t even finish. The fate that she knew of being too much to leave her throat.

“Huh. Are we now?” he said, mostly to himself as he had a real epiphany from those words. So they were serial killers, were they?

Yeah, he could work with that…

She buried her head into the mattress, trying to muffle the dry sobs from ducts that had long gone barren.

“Please, if you’re gonna do it then just do it already! I can’t go on anymore! I can’t take it…”

He ran the back of his hand slowly, whisperingly down her cheek, “Talk to me beautiful. Tell me how I can make this better.”

This finally got something out of her. A snort of sick, stupid amusement, weak and wheezy.

“God, what fucking game are you two playing? Some sick good killer, bad killer shtick?”

Dabi smiled. She sure was spunky. Even now. What a lovely quality.

“No,” he breathed, dusting feather light kisses down her neck, her chest, that sweet, soft tummy… “No games.”

He buried his nose into the crux her thigh, reveling in the heat and tremble of her raw, abused thighs.

“W-What are you doing?!” she gasped, a whole new flavor of fear coating her voice.

“Just relax,” he purred, kissing a path all the way to her center, “I’m not gonna hurt you…”

She cried out as he licked up the length of her cunt, flicking the stud in his tongue against her clit playfully when he got there. She tried to move her hips away from him, still completely baffled and terrified by not knowing what he was going to do to her, but thanks to her restraints, the struggle only ended up pushing her hips closer to Dabi’s lips in a grind motion. A wanting motion.

It spurred him on to pleasure her further as the delusion of her reciprocation had him falling utterly in love.

Shigarai’s spunk was still slipping out of her, heavy and salty on his tongue as he buried it deeper inside her, but that didn’t matter. Her own sweetness overpowered it, those resistant sobs overpowering all of his senses, sending him into a delirium of pleasure.

Fuck, how much he wanted to throw her legs up over his shoulders, coil his arms tight around her and devour her, but he resisted. He knew how raw and wounded she was, and all he wanted from her now was a fraction of the bliss that she was giving him.

“P-Please! I don’t— nngh! ”

Her sounds were brand new now — constant choked sobs of despair and self-hatred over the way her body reacted against her will. She was so raw and oversensitive from Shigaraki’s brutal treatment, Dabi’s own gentle, devoted ministrations had her ankles straining up painfully against her restraints as she came in mere minutes.

Dabi pulled away, a crooked, love-drunk smile on his face as he watched her trembling chest rise and fall, listened to the sweet serenade of her wheezing breaths.

He hummed happily as he pulled himself back up to her level. He cupped his hand gently along her cheek.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She snapped back to him, anger tearing violently through her “afterglow”.

“ Fuck you .” she quite literally spat, a newfound fire within her that set his own body ablaze.

Dabi brought a thumb to his cheek, stroking the spit she’d hurled at him to the corner of his own mouth. His tongue reached to meet it, and he shuddered as both of her tastes mingled on his palate.

Fuck, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly back onto his haunches, trying to not let his desperation to be inside her rush or roughen his movements. He still wanted her to enjoy this, but it was taking every bit of self-control he could muster not to blow his load over the sound of her voice alone.

“W-Wait!” she yelped out, as she felt him line himself up at her entrance, “You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“I won’t sweetheart,” he breathed, easing his cockhead in slowly, “I promise this won’t hurt.”

“But it does! You doing this now— you’re hurting me!”

He groaned as her heat completely engulfed him. Between the mix of her own arousal and Shigaraki’s, and the desperate pulsing of her insides, post-orgasm, he barely even had to push his hips.

“There’s no need to lie now, your body’s completely giving you away,” he grinned, dropping his forehead to rest against hers, “Your pussy is sucking me right in.”

She choked out a sob as he rocked out of her just barely, then buried himself again, somehow deeper than before.

“ Fuck —” he groaned, “I couldn’t pull out if I tried. Your body just wants me that bad. Doesn’t it baby?”

She tried to stifle a moan as his soft yet sturdy thrusts hit that perfect angle inside of her. She managed to keep the pleasure of the sound locked in the base of her throat, allowing out only a stilted and very unladylike grunt in its place.

The horrid little sound didn’t put Dabi off in the slightest though. If anything, it endeared him. He smiled, almost giddily, as he watched that strain and struggle coarse through her. She really was perfect no matter what she did, wasn’t she?

They all were, after all.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” he urged her again between thrusts, “Do you like it like this? Does it feel good?”

“N-No, it doesn’t…” she whimpered out hoarsely, that momentary fire from before quickly extinguishing as she felt her dignity once again slipping away “Just stop…”

Dabi’s brows pinched disappointedly, hips slowing to a near-stop.

“You don’t like it like this? Soft and sweet?”

She looked back up at him, confusion creasing her own cute little face.

His hand on her hip started to tighten, nails digging deliberately into the meat of her hip, “Maybe then you liked Shigaraki’s way better…”

Her eyes widened.

“Well I can certainly do that too,” he breathed, hip suddenly snapping painfully into her.

“N-No!” she yelped, “No, please I—!” she squeezed her eyes closed tight, trying to hold back her tears, as a particularly rough thrust jostled her broken rib painfully, “I want it soft! It felt so good what you were doing before! Please! ”

“Are you sure?” Dabi tilted his head, pounding hips having yet to slow, “Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want. This is supposed to be good for the both of us.”

“I-I’m not! Really, I mean it! I want it soft, please!” she cried out, “Please! Fuck me soft, g-gentle! Just—!”

His hips finally eased to a soft roll.

“...yeah?”

She opened her eyes then, and instantly her blood ran cold. His voice was soft and romantic, he’d gotten that part of his act down to a science, but clearly he hadn’t quite figured out how to keep that sadistic fervor from his face.

His eyes were wide, pupils blown. He was clearly trying to keep his smile even and comforting, but he couldn’t fight the way those corners twitched higher and higher, teeth grinding and showing through harder and clearer.

Just a horrible face.

This man was clearly no more a voice of reason than his more blatantly violent partner outside. He too was clearly deranged, a powder keg. Completely unpredictable.

And that made him a thousand times scarier.

Dabi leaned in closer to her, fighting to keep the manic tremble from his voice, “You want me to make love to you?”

She gulped hard, desperate to keep the absolute terror from her voice, “Y-Yes. Please… M-Make love to me…”

He stared down at her for a long moment, utterly reveling in those words long enough for her to start panicking that maybe she’d said the wrong thing.

But thankfully — god, she couldn’t believe she was thinking that — they were exactly the words he wanted to hear. He dropped his head down into her chest, groaning unabashedly as he began to hump into her again, slower for sure, but also deeper. With his entire body and being.

“Fuck, yeah… Yeah baby. Anything you want. I’ll do anything you fucking want…”

She choked out a joyless laugh at that. Anything she wanted, huh? What a fucking joke.

“You’re so good, fuck— perfect . And you too— it’s good for you? Come on tell me baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel—”

“Uh-huh, it’s good…” she said flatly as she slipped into dissociation.

She stared up at the same tear in the headliner she’d tried to focus on by the end of Shigaraki’s torture, thinking about how oddly shaped it was. Those kinds of tears were usually outright holes, maybe with a flap of fabric hanging off of it. Or maybe it’d be just a little tear, a small line practically unnoticeable in the dim light of this van. But this one was different. Long and unnatural, it almost looked like a big Frankenstein surgical stitch. Or like the dermal piercings running up her captor’s cheeks—

Fuck. Her eyes fell back on her captors flushed, blissed out face. The electric blue of his eyes, the babbling growls spilling from his lips. She was having a much harder time tuning the pleasure out with this man than she’d had tuning out the pain with the previous one, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because he was kind of her type. That’s exactly what she’d thought when he leaned out of the car window to ask her for directions after all. Watching him move over her like this, leaning down to catch her lips passionately with his own more frequently as time went on she couldn’t help but picture an alternate universe.

One where he really had been asking for directions to the beach. Where he’d been alone in his car rather than having a freak friend in the back, lying in wait. And where she’d been standing on the well-trafficked main street just a couple blocks down instead of in front of the empty alleyway she’d been smoking a blunt in when he’d stopped.

A universe where they’d flirted and hit it off and exchanged phone numbers and eventually he’d taken her on a date rather than just taken her. Where these sweet nothings and pleasurable rolls of his hips were accompanied with champagne and room service rather than rope and broken bones.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pictured it all, what a wonderful life this could’ve been.

“Shhh, shh, shhh,” he cooed, “It’s okay. You’re so perfect, it’s okay…”

But that only caused her to sob harder, face reddening voice straining as she wailed uncontrollably. She didn’t even notice Dabi’s hand slipping up along her body and up to the base of her neck.

His thumb settled snug into that soft, sensitive dip of her throat.

God, she was crying so hard now, she couldn’t breathe.

And then he started to squeeze.

Wait, no, really. She couldn’t fucking breathe —!

She gasped out suddenly, arms instinctually shooting forward to try and force his hand off, but she was once again denied by her restraints. She quickly shifted gears, thrashing her body up and down wildly. And for a moment, she did loosen his grip.

But then he brought his second hand to her throat, pushing her deeper into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growled through the steady snapping of his hips, “So fucking perfect…”

Her throat bobbed and begged as he constricted his hands tighter, getting lost in the song of her voice getting steadily higher, weaker, until she couldn’t form a word at all, could only gurgle and croak desperately.

“Oh yeah, just like that. Be good for me baby,” he groaned, “Be good…”

He couldn’t say that this was the best part of these excursions, he savored every moment of it after all.

…But there was something particularly special about these last few moments.

It was so rare that anybody actually got to witness them, let alone experience them with their own hands — this perfect feeling of her body both tightening and going pliant around him, stiff and spasming, not to mention the view of it all that sent him barrelling frantically towards his release.

Fuck, she was so pretty! The way her drool spilled out her mouth, all gurgled and frothy. That lovely shade of blue she was starting to turn. The rabid fear that filled those eyes before they started to roll back — fuck even the pink undersides of her eyes were cute. He wondered what the backs of them, the optic nerves, looked like. He was sure they’d be adorable.

He couldn’t wait to see.

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vitaminkyeom · 5 months ago

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till death do us part

noun. [ˈdɛθ] for as long as we breath.

a series on horrors of love.

CURRENTLY WRITING : Alice in Wonderland [Jeonghan x Female Reader]

COMPLETED (1/13) : Telephone [Mingyu x Female Reader]

message or send me an ask to be in the taglist!

A/N || This series will start from October and run till November end. This is my first horror series in this blog and i was wondering whether or not to write this because i'm so bad at writing horror fics so please give it lots of love! i hope you all enjoy this series.

↬ Seungcheol in ❝ Stitches And Hearts ❞

╼ PAIRING || Seungcheol x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Frankenstein! AU, Horror, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || When life snatched away your lover from you, you were completely heartbroken. But there was no way you were going to let fate decide your life so you took matters into your own hands.

Or, in which, you were driven mad by grief but sane enough to get him back.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Jeonghan in ❝ Alice In Wonderland ❞

╼ PAIRING || Jeonghan x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, Romance, Angst

╼ SUMMARY || You wake up with your memories wiped out in a lonely house with a few other people, all in the same position. As you all try making your way out, you start finding out disturbing truths that maybe should have been left alone.

Or, in which, wonderland wasn't so wonderful when you realised what had exactly happened.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Joshua in ❝ H(a)unted ❞

╼ PAIRING || Joshua x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, Romance, Witch AU, Neighbour!Joshua

╼ SUMMARY || Moving into the cheapest house you could get your hands on was definitely not number one on your bucket list but maybeyour hot neighbour could make up for it.

Or, in which, history repeats itself but maybe it never died in the first place

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Junhui in ❝ The Painting ❞

╼ PAIRING || Junhui x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Romance, Horror, The Picture Of Dorian Gray AU, Serial Killer AU

╼ SUMMARY || Wen Junhui was the most perfect man you could have ever fallen in love with and there was nothing more you could ever ask for him. Except, maybe wonder why he would never let you in his house.

Or, in which, maybe the man you were in love with was not as beautiful as he seemed.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Soonyoung in ❝ Spirited Away ❞

╼ PAIRING || Soonyoung x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Ghost AU, Roommate AU, Romance, Angst, Horror

╼ SUMMARY || When you moved in with Kwon Soonyoung, you were a bit skeptical about rooming with a random stranger. But that totally changed when you finally met him and began to fall in love. Except maybe he wasn't who you thought he was.

Or, in which, your feelings were temporary, just like him.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Wonwoo in ❝ Lights Out ❞

╼ PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Vampire! AU, Horror, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || All you wanted to do was loosen up a little after your exams. So what best place to relax other than a club right? Especially if there is a handsome stranger offering to buy you drinks.

Or, in which, your one night stand goes horribly, horribly wrong.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Jihoon in ❝ Deep Sleep ❞

╼ PAIRING || Jihoon x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Incubus!Jihoon, Horror, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || You knew you were a deep sleeper and that one day you would get into trouble for it but if you could wake up energetic the next day, who were you to complain? Until you started getting nightmares when you moved to your new house.

Or, in which, your nightmares were plagues by the same damn man.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Seokmin in ❝ Death Do Us Part ❞

╼ PAIRING || Seokmin x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, Romance, Succubus!Reader

╼ SUMMARY || Lee Seokmin was everything you had ever wanted in a man. Unfortunately he was too far away from your reach physically. Quite literally.

Or, in which, you were going to have Seokmin to yourself, no matter what.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Mingyu in ❝ Telephone ❞

╼ PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, 911 Operator!Mingyu, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || Working the night shift as a 911 operator was hard as it is and the last thing Mingyu needed was those calls from his ex-girlfriend. Whom he had not seen in years. For obvious reasons of her being dead.

Or, in which, Mingyu kept getting calls from his ex girlfriend claiming that she had murdered him.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Minghao in ❝ Jekyll ❞

╼ PAIRING || Minghao x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde AU, Horror, Angst, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || You had loved your blind date because Xu Minghao had put in so much efforts in both the dates he had arranged. Until his personality did a complete 360 degree on the third date. And you had considering breaking things off with him until you found a 'help me' note in his handwriting in your handbag.

Or, in which, the man you like might be playing Jekyll and Hyde with you.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Seungkwan in ❝ Porcelain ❞

╼ PAIRING || Seungkwan x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Porcelain Doll AU, Horror, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || When Seungkwan's girlfriend goes back to her grandmother's house for a few days, he expects continuous messages from her. But instead of that, all he gets is a gift from her. A porcelain doll.

Or, in which, Seungkwan thinks you gifted him a doll from your grandmother's collection.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Vernon in ❝ Sabotaged ❞

╼ PAIRING || Vernon x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, Romance

╼ SUMMARY || There was something off about your boyfriend's house. You just could feel it. Determined to find out you decide to spend the night in his house.

Or, in which, you find out secret's you were never supposed to find out and now you'll have your revenge.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

↬ Chan in ❝ Reaper ❞

╼ PAIRING || Chan x Female Reader

╼ GENRES || Horror, Romance, Grim Reaper AU, Serial Killer AU

╼ SUMMARY || All Chan wanted to do was lead a simple carefree life, leaving behind his past now that he had met you. But you, you on the other hand had some other plans for him.

Or, in which, Chan thought you were the one without realising you were actually the one.

╼ WARNINGS || TBA

╼ WORD COUNT || TBA

494 notes · View notes

jaythes1mp · 7 months ago

Note

Cat reader idea: which one is your favorite. Like Damian would be nice but he’s always on you for improper diet (you ate fruit and not the horrid wet food he leaves out for you)

Dick has no sense of personal space and he wants to squeeze your adorable little toe beans despite your protests.

Jason would be okay but he practically steals you at night for cuddles and for your own safety. Nothing safer than sleeping with a knife under your pillow.

Tim is iffy, he just likes your company, but the moment you sneeze he’s sending you to the vet- even worse when you get out, using your chip to locate you.

Bruce and alfred just adore you, but only get to see you now and then due to their busy schedules, mainly petting you when they walk by or doing your training.

:3 hope this is accurate lmao

Okay, this is beautiful and a perfect way to incorporate some things into the fic.

More on cat shifter reader.

Damian is 100% on your ass, meticulously keeping track of your dietary habits, setting up charts to keep track of your meal times, ensuring that the family knows exactly what you've consumed and what not to give you. This way, he can ensure that you're sticking to the food plan he's designed, with zero room for deviation. He even resorts to constantly reminding Alfred and Dick not to give you anything, no matter how hard your adorable little eyes plead up at them. Determined to make sure you stick to his meal plan. It’s even worse when you’re in your human form, despite his repeated warnings. — and don’t get him started on Jason. The man is the most difficult of them all to control when it comes to your diet. He completely ignores Damian's instructions and will immediately scoop you up and secure you in the cat carrier attached to his motorcycle if you even hint at being hungry. Then, he'll spirit you away to his apartment without a second thought, offering you an array of forbidden human foods in exchange for your sweet meows.

Don’t think about attempting to escape through him however, that would only lead to being futile. He's engineered his bike with a series of safety precautions, meaning that if you even displayed the slightest indication of trying to jump out or escape, the restraints would immediately tighten, making it virtually impossible for you to break out. Let alone breathe comfortably.

Moving back to your diet; Damian has completely altered the Wayne Manor’s kitchen to cater exclusively to your feline dietary needs. He’s even managed to ensure that the rest of the family has adapted their own diets to match yours, to prevent any accidents regarding food you’re not supposed to eat. Despite your attempts to reason with him, Damian refuses to acknowledge that as a human, you can safely consume foods like chocolate without getting sick. You’re a kitten after all.

Though, if by some chance you do manage to infiltrate the kitchen, an assortment of only the finest fruits are packed at the ready for you. Small bits of cut up mango, fresh unpackaged pineapple, blueberries, melon, bananas, apricots, apples and watermelon at the ready. The fridge always stocked full of cooked meats, fluffy cooked rice, boiled eggs, and vegetables.

Damian might not be overjoyed when you venture from the specific meats and hundreds of lavish wet food brands that he's tasked Pennyworth to prepare, he still begrudgingly accepts it as a form of compromise. As long as you’re eating things that fall within his carefully controlled parameters, he can justify allowing it. He’s aware that you need some form of autonomy and independence to survive in the manor, unlike many of his brothers.

He treats you the most reasonably.

Dick is definitely one of the people who gets loads of little cat clothes to dress you up in and needs to have you in his little cat bag so he can take you around everywhere.

Who cares about the numerous concerned remarks regarding your drowsy appearance? Dick simply laughs off their concerns. His kitten is just tired, he promises! After all, it’d be quite a hassle to have to explain to every person who stops for a photo that it's nothing more than the effects of the medication he's given you to ensure you remain placidly content and docile during cuddle sessions and neighbourhood walks.

Once Dick starts on your adorable little toe beans, there's no stopping him. He gushes incessantly about the cute contrast of pink and black on your little paws and how they're just perfect for the miniature cat-themed socks that Alfred has patiently taught him to make. He gleefully coos over your small digits, marveling at how perfectly they fit into the little socks. Aren’t you happy your big brother made them for you? Can’t you just purr this once, please? He won’t even get mad if you kick them off or tear them to shreds again!

He’s definitely the type to have an entire wardrobe filled with little outfits for you. A nice red bow tie to get you to look nice and handsome or a warm purple sweater for you to look pretty.

Dick's affection for you remains steadfast, even when you shift to your human form. However, in his mind, you'll always be his precious little kitten, and no amount of whining, hitting, or swearing can convince him otherwise. He's stubbornly determined to shower you with love and care, undeterred by any resistance you may offer. The world’s just too big for you, and he needs to protect you from it. So come sit on his lap and stop whining, the movie’s starting.

In stark contrast to Dick, Jason has a clear preference for your feline form, showing little interest in you when you appear as a human. He often ignores you entirely, showering you with love and attention only in your feline body.

It's a double-edged sword, this dynamic with Jason. On the one hand, you've discovered a way to make him leave you alone – simply appear in your human form, and he'll instantly lose interest. He'll glare, shake his head in distaste, and then storm out of the room, grumbling incoherently under his breath as he goes. Unfortunately, when Jason realises your tactic to avoid him, he'll barge into Tim's room unannounced, no matter the time of day or night. Tim, due to his habit of staying up late, will inevitably be awake, and Jason will insist that he make you transform back. Following his forceful tactic of making you transform back, Jason will quickly switch gears and act as though nothing untoward has happened. He'll enfold you in a tight hug and bury his face in your soft fur, nuzzling against you affectionately, completely unbothered by his previous behavior.

Given your penchant for exploring the outdoors, Jason often takes advantage of the darkness of the night to whisk you away. He's aware that you need to experience life beyond the confines of the Wayne estate's gardens, and he prefers to do it when the rest of the family is less likely to notice your absence. Or rather, more occupied with their nightly duties so they’re unable to stop him from taking you.

You’re still under complete lock and key, but at least you get to experience the night air every once in a while.

If I had to pick my favourite out of the ones you’ve written I’d go with Tim’s. It’s the one I agree with the most.

Tim likes to keep you sedated. Having you laid out nice and docile on his lap, desk, or of the many cat trees that litter the place, while he works away on the batcomputer.

He’s the most precocious, being particularly meticulous when it comes to your well-being, even the slightest sneeze prompting him to arrange a visit to the vet. Monthly veterinary checkups are non-negotiable, and he ensures that your health is consistently monitored. Saying that, he’ll never take you to a hospital with doctors that specialise in anything other than animals.

A sleek, high-tech collar encircles your neck, constantly transmitting your vital signs in real-time to Tim's phone. Additionally, a microchip planted in your body and trackers strategically installed on various parts of your anatomy ensure that they can monitor your location at all times ensuring that under no circumstances are able to escape.

Tim is the one who suggested and ultimately confirmed your declawing, dismissing your protests and tears as mere tantrums. Despite your pleas and emotional outburst, stating that it would render you disabled — equivalent to cutting off your fingers down to the knuckle — he remains cold and uncompromising. Your objections are disregarded, treating your fears as if you were a pet throwing a tantrum, denying you any agency in the matter. If you didn’t want this to happen, you wouldn’t have scratched them in the first place. It’s easier this way, really. They get to look after you in human form and there’ll be no more scratching up their arms or the furniture.

Initially, Dick supported your side, recognising your profound distress and desperation. However, after a conversation about how you would be completely reliant on him while in your human form, he changed his stance. He stopped giving the issue a moment's consideration, fully accepting Tim’s conclusion.

When it came to the decision, Jason and Bruce were in favor from the beginning. For Jason, it meant his new couch would remain unscathed, and prevented you from clawing at Bruce during business meetings while he held you snugly in his lap.

The sole member of the family fiercely opposed to the idea of declawing you was Damian.

Nevertheless, to Damian's dismay and your own, you'll be made to undergo the declawing against your will anyway. Despite his disagreement, he'll still be there to gently bandage up the raw nubs where your former fingers once were, and he'll lovingly pet away your tears and sobs. You were still his kitten, he’d coo. Just a slightly less fierce one.

I’d have to disagree with you here.

Bruce will undoubtedly make time for you, despite any disagreements you may have. You're a top priority in his life, and he'll ensure that you receive the attention and care you deserve.

The eldest Wayne will go to great lengths to accommodate you in his busy schedule. He'll happily reschedule meetings and carve out special time just for you. If there's a vital meeting he can't avoid, he'll bring you along, insisting on having you by his side.

You’re theirs, through and through.

Thanks for the ideas! Any and all asks are encouraged and appreciated.

Previous cat asks: 1 2

Link to Masterlist.

Link to offical chapter

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sierrale8ne · 2 months ago

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christmas eve aubrey griffin, ayanna patterson, paige bueckers 🎄

sfw // kissing, sexual innuendos, cute christmas fluff

kalena speakss 🪽! i recommend having this song on loop while reading, it really works wonders on the heart strings 🥹 merry (early) christmas eve and happy holidays to all my amazing followers and moots.

🏷️ @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @ohbueckers @rosemariiaa @bucketbueckers @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy

ayanna and kelli’s christmas eve 🎞️

“Lay your head on me, I got you baby.” justin bieber 2011

“I can’t believe you made me put these on.” Ayanna groans, walking down the stairwell of my parents home in plaid pajama pants and a red, ugly, Christmas sweater with gingerbread men on it.

She looks adorable, her skin glowing from the light of the fireplace and the television.

“I didn’t make you do anything. You have free will.” I shrug from my place on the couch. White fuzzy socks cover my feet as I tuck my legs up on the couch. It’s barely even chilly, but the holiday spirit makes me pile on all the layers.

“Kel, this shit is ugly.”

“You wanna take it off?” I comment, looking over at her suggestively.

“In your parent’s house? Nah, I’ll be aight.” Yanna looks at me astonished, pulling on the tight coil that falls over her forehead. She huffs, sitting next to me on the couch.

“That’s what I thought.” I reply, pressing play on the movie in front of us.

It’s Are We There Yet, which I refuse to accept as a Christmas movie, but since Yanna sucked it up and put on the matching outfit, I guess I can be a good girlfriend and watch her poor choice of a movie.

She pulls on the lever that makes the seat recline, giving me all the space to get comfortable in the space between us as we cuddle.

“I missed you so damn much, pretty. You don’t even know”

I’m taken aback by her sudden show of affection, but it makes me smile. And that pretty word nearly makes my cheek turn as read as the sweaters.

“Me too.” I nod, looking away from Nia Long on the screen and up at my girlfriend. “The team was getting too comfortable with my baby. Needed you to come back.”

Yanna laughs in between kissing my forehead. “I thought I was getting replaced by med school exams.” She says back.

I really didn’t realize just how much we’d been busy. UConn and Harvard weren’t too far away, the distance could’ve been worse. But from chasing a national championship and trying to become a doctor, her and I just had so much going on.

It’s really a Christmas miracle that I get her all to myself for a few days.

“Y’sure I can’t give you my gift tonight?” Yanna asks me. I laugh, pausing the movie that obviously neither one of us was paying attention to anymore.

“Girl, no!” I exclaimed.

“Please! I’ll give you another tomorrow.” She attempts to negotiate. I want to say no, knowing that if my mom were to hear that I’ve changed her very serious Christmas plans, she’d probably kill me.

But it’s Ayanna, and she looks so convincing with that pretty and perfect smile that I just can’t say no.

Which is exactly how I find myself with my legs crossed, giggling as she hands me the medium sized Tiffany & Co box. It isn’t wrapped, which lets me know she was planning on giving it to me when we were alone rather than when our families were around.

“NIL money getting you right?”

Yanna grins at me as she shrugs. Trying to look nonchalant about it, but I know her better than that.

“Something like that.”

I untied the white ribbon on the box, revealing the gold Tiffany Hardware Wrap Necklace that I had saved in my phone for months.

“Were you in my search history?” I ask, incredulously, looking at her astonished. “It’s beautiful.” I pout, tears rimming my cheeks from the gesture.

"I needed some inspiration for your gift because you always say you have everything you need and not what you want," Yanna explains, cutely rubbing the back of her neck.

"I do have everything I need and want," I smile. I put the lid back on the box, holding it close to my chest as I lean into her.

My arm wraps around her neck, inhaling the scent of her body wash. Her lips press to my clothed shoulder, hugging me back like any second I could evaporate into thin air.

"I have you," I mumble almost inaudibly, but knowing her she obviously hears me. I hear a small laugh escaping her lips, breathless nearly.

“You got me, baby.” She confirms, kissing that spot on my shoulder again. “Always.”

aubrey and shayne’s christmas eve 🍪

“You leave some cookies out I’ma eat ‘em all.” justin bieber 2011

“Stop it!” Shayne exclaims, swatting Aubrey’s hand away from the recently decorated sugar cookie she just placed down.

It was the couple’s second christmas together, and this time Shayne insisted that they had to decorate cookies on Christmas eve.

Making them was messy, flour and sugar all over the kitchen counter. Then as soon as they were out of the oven, Aubrey went out of her way to reach for a piping hot cookie, just to end up burning her finger and crying like a baby.

“I just wanna see your work!” Aubrey explains, pushing the girl off to the side by her hip. She looks at the cookie, a snowman with a big top hat, and she snickers. “Why are his eyes melting?”

Shayne rolls her eyes at the loud laugh that escapes her girlfriend. “Then you make one! Here.” She says, placing a similar cookie on a plate.

The two hum along to the christmas tune playing on the TV, sugar and cinnamon and vanilla shifts through the air, along with the occasional poking fun of each other’s cookies.

“See, mine looks good.” Aubrey says lifting her gingerbread man up towards her face.

Shayne pulls a face, and every bone in her body is telling her to tell the girl how ugly her cookie looks or something of that nature. But she was right, it actually looked cute.

“It does, baby. Hol’ on let me get a picture of it.” She digs in the pocket of her christmas tree pajamas for her phone. It took all of five seconds for Aubrey to take a giant bite of the head of the gingerbread man. “Are you serious?”

“It was too tempting.” Aubrey explains, crumbs fall from her mouth and green frosting decorates her lip.

“You could wait two more seconds?” Shayne laughs, snapping a photo of the girl’s off-guard face with her decapitated gingerbread man.

She shakes her head back and forth, the curls on her head moving with. “Shouldn’t have left me alone with these cookies.” Aubrey shrugs, eating the rest of it.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Shayne drops the bag of colored frosting on the counter taking a step closer to her girlfriend. Aubrey had this glimmer in her brown eyes that made her knees knock. Tracing the slope of her nose with her eyes and the sharp line of Aubrey’s jaw.

Shayne’s hand meets Aubrey’s cheek before nudging the corner of her lip with her thumb. “You have frosting on you, dummy.” She sucks the bright green frosting off of her finger, before mushing Aubrey’s face to the side.

“Wait, wait.” Aubrey urged. Her hand reaching for her girlfriend’s wrist and pulling her back.

She slides her hand behind her neck and pulls Shayne into a kiss. Lips softly meshing together as her mouth sucks at Shayne’s bottom lip. They hum as they pull apart, frosting from Aubrey’s mouth staining their lips.

“I like spending Christmas with you, Shay.” Aubrey admits, kissing the girl’s temple.

The admission makes Shayne smile like a school girl and she snakes her arms around Aubrey’s waist, the material of her button up pjs riding up just barely.

“Same time next year?”

“Absolutely.” Aubrey nods eagerly, dipping her head to plant kisses across Shayne’s jaw. “Y’know what else I think?”

“What?” She sighs, slowly getting distracted by the feeling of her lips.

“You should let me eat another cookie before we go to bed. Know what I mean?”

Shayne snickers at the insinuation, pushing her hands to the athletes chest. “And this is when I walk away from you.”

“Shay, c’mon!”

paige and jolene’s christmas eve 🎄

“Kissing underneath the tree. I don’t need no presents girl, you’re everything I need.” justin bieber 2011

“Ma, c’mere!” I call out, stand in front of Jo and I’s tree with my hands on my hips. The pines were decorated in white lights and gold ornaments, Jolene put on some candy canes on it too.

She trudged into the room, her thick socks softly padding against the ground with each step she takes. She wears a plaid onesie, her recently straightened hair tumbling down her shoulders.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to show you sum.” I reach my hand out for her and she takes it, stepping over the stack of our presents and over to me.

Confusion covers her face, I can assume she’s regretting leaving me alone in the living room with our tree. “Should I be nervous?” Jo laughs, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You know I don’t do surprises.”

“I know.” I nod. She hates surprises, mostly stemming from her hatred for being left out of the loop. “It’s not anything major, I just want to get all sappy and shit.”

She smiles that addicting smile of hers that makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire. I almost forget how long we’ve really been together when she looks at me like that, because every time it feels like I just met her when It’s really been years.

She drops our hands, instead wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning on my shoulder. “Show me.”

I reach behind the tree, looking for and spotting the sphere shaped ornament. It’s clear, a collage of images of the two of us filling the space.

Jolene lets out a gasp as she looks at it, and I remind myself to tap myself on the back for my unofficial gift to her.

“I’ve spent every Christmas with you since we were in eighth grade.” I say, letting the ornament spin on my finger for her to see every image. “It’s crazy, ‘cause we grown as hell now.”

She laughs, “yeah, super senior.”

“Chill out. I’m getting sentimental.”

“You’re right, my fault.”

I point a a random picture before looking at it. “This was my first Christmas in D.C. You flew all the way out there to see me, and I remember telling my dad that I thought our Christmas streak would be broken and then you showed up.”

“I’ll always show up.” She murmurs, following my finger with her eyes.

“Then there’s last year in Minnesota. When we got snowed in, but I swore I wasn’t gonna go without spending my day with you.” The memory flashes in my head of how hard she laughed when she opened her front door and saw my body completely engulfed in snow.

“You walked two and a half blocks for me.” She reminisces along with me before taking it into her own hands.

“I guess what I wanna say is that, I can’t imagine not spending the holidays with you, Jo. This ornament represents all the Christmases of the past, and I wanna keep doing it ‘til I’m fucking 90.”

“And what happens at 91?” She asks. Jolene takes it upon herself to hang it up on the perfect spot, conveniently right where there was a gap between the other ornaments.

“I might be able to go a few more years after that.” I shrug. “You’re my gift every year. Ion need shit else as long as I have you. You’re everything I need every single year.” I admit.

Her smile illuminates in the lighting of the Christmas tree and she cups my cheeks, pulling me down to her height and kissing me without any more words. There didn’t really need to be anymore words, everything that was left unsaid was understood.

It’s so damn tender, soft and sweet like I’ve never felt before. Even after nine years of being able to call her my girlfriend. She licks at my bottom lip, parting them before slipping it into my mouth.

“‘M gonna marry you one day.” She mumbles into my mouth, and I nod, gripping her hips in an attempt to keep us both from falling into the tree.

I pull back, but not before placing another slow peck to her lips. “I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too, 5. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mama.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #aubrey griffin #aubrey griffin x oc #ayanna patterson #ayanna patterson x oc #uconn wbb #lesbian

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lovegalor333 · 2 months ago

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Deck the Halls

part one of paigemas

paige bueckers x reader

you and paige get into the christmas spirit

⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆ ⋆꙳❆ ⋆✩°｡꙳❆°⋆

“It’s the most beautiful time of the year, lights fill the streets spreading so much cheer! I should be playing in the winter snow, but imma be under the mistletoe!” You giggled to yourself as your girlfriend belted out lyrics from behind you. “Promise me you won’t quit basketball?” You say turning the stove off, the hot coco you’d been stirring, finally smooth and hot enough to drink. “I’m a good singer!” Paige insists taking the freshly poured mug from you, “Uh huh and you’re also seven foot.” You joke taking a sip from your own mug. The hot drink was sweet and rich, exactly what you both needed after being out in the cold December weather.

You and Paige had decided today was the day you’d turn your apartment into an actual Christmas wonderland. She’d spent way too much money in Target, insisting on adding everything you picked up into the cart. Multicoloured baubles, twinkling lights, tinsel, paper stars and angels and her own addition; the most amount of mistletoe you’d ever seen.

“Do we really need that much?” You’d asked as Paige pilled it into the shopping cart. “Yes. I need every excuse to kiss you.” She said, holding a piece over your heads and pressing her lips to yours. “You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, P.” You’d told her but she said it was festive and absolutely necessary and who were you to argue. If your girlfriend wanted to kiss you constantly, you were happy to let her. Mistletoe or no mistletoe.

With your favourite Christmas playlist blaring through the speakers, cinnamon candles lit, filling the space with a deep, spicy scent you and Paige got to work decorating the tree.

Wrapping the lights around caused some issues and you had Paige redo them at least three times, “I’m getting dizzy.” Paige complained after circling the tree over and over trying to get the string of lights absolutely perfect. “Just once more, please.” And of course Paige obliged, she always did.

“I actually have something else for the tree.” Paige piped up as you both stood back admiring your handy work so far. “Really?” You asked raising your brows inquisitively and she nodded before rooting around in her rucksack by the door, “Close your eyes.”

You obeyed, squeezing your eyes shut and you felt Paige come to stand in front of you, “Ok - open.” You peel your eyes open and are met with Paige holding up an ornament.

A clay heart, with a red ribbon threaded through to display it. It had both your initials stamped onto it, in sparkly gold paint and the year in cursive underneath. “Oh my god, P! I love it.” You say looking up at your girlfriend who has a very proud smile on her face, “I knew you would.” She beams, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

You and Paige placed the ornament in the centre of the tree, pride of place. “Ok, just the star to go on.” You say picking up the glittery silver tree topper, “You do it, long legs.” You say handing the star to Paige but she shakes her head, “Uh uh. You do it. I’ll make it all wonky.” She’s right, but you definitely cannot reach the top of the tree, even on your tip toes, “I can’t reach.” You pout stretching up as far as you could. “I got chu.” Paige says and she crouches down in front of you and taps her shoulders, “Paige, if I fall-“ “Trust me, I got chu.” Paige interrupts and taps her shoulders again, “Climb on.”

You manoeuvre your legs over your girlfriends shoulders and she holds your legs firmly as she rises from her crouched position, “Stop tensing,” She chuckles, “I’m not going to drop you.” She reassures. “You better not Paige.” You say placing a hand on her head to steady yourself. “Baby, I lift more than you at the gym, I promise you’re not falling.” Balanced on her six foot frame, you can almost reach the ceiling so placing the star ontop of the tree is light work.

Paige places you down and you stand together, her arm around your waist, your head leant on her shoulder as you take in the sight in front of you both. “It’s perfect.” Paige praises, kissing your head, “It is. Merry first Christmas together.” You say snuggling more into your girlfriend. “The first of many.”

im so sorry this is out late 😭😭😭😭 im jet lagged and on period and idk i literally forgot my bad, please forgive me 💋

🏷️: @buecketsnbueckets @rosemariiaa @avvwritesstufff @blackbarbie96 @melpthatsme @jnkbueckers @cloclos-posts @onlyhereforpazzi @paigeshirleytemple @mattsmunchkin @bueckersbitch @rizzlerbuckets @numberonepartyanth3m @washing-machine-heart245 @katemartinlvr @girlslovee @taylynbueckers44 @thatonequeer0358 @the-other-half @xxxggggsh @evry1luvzza

#paige bueckers #paige x reader #paigemas #paige bueckers fanfiction #sophs works 🪽#lovegalor333 #wlw #lgbtq #fanfic

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luckystay · 3 months ago

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Bf Skz reaction to their s/o having body dismorphia

ᯓ★ bf!stray kids imagines 💭

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Bang Chan

Chan would notice your insecurities even if you tried to hide them. He’s incredibly observant and always makes sure you know how much he admires and loves every part of you. On days when you feel overwhelmed, he would sit with you, holding your hands and reminding you how beautiful you are—not just on the outside, but in every way. "You’re perfect to me," he’d whisper, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let me help you see what I see." He’d also encourage you to open up about your feelings, letting you know that it’s okay to struggle, but that he’s always there to support you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Lee Know

Minho isn’t one for long emotional speeches, but his actions would speak volumes. He’d subtly redirect your focus, complimenting the things he knows you feel good about and encouraging you to do things that make you happy. He’d also make you laugh with his playful antics. “You don’t need to think so much,” he’d say, wrapping an arm around you. “To me, you’re just... you. And that’s everything.” If you ever struggled, he would tell you that your worth isn’t determined by your appearance, but by how you treat others and the energy you bring into the world.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Changbin

Changbin would be openly supportive, constantly affirming how much he loves you. He’d want to understand exactly how you feel and would listen attentively whenever you shared your thoughts. “You’re more than just how you look,” he’d say firmly, pulling you into a comforting hug. “But if you could see what I see, you’d never doubt yourself again.” He’d remind you that his love for you goes far beyond your body, and that no one is perfect—but you’re perfect for him, flaws and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Hyunjin

Hyunjin would respond with gentle care and endless compliments, knowing how words can make a difference. He’d often paint or draw you, emphasizing the beauty he sees in you, and say, “This is how I see you—perfect.” He’d encourage you to focus on the things you love about yourself and show you that you don’t need to change. He’d also encourage self-care, suggesting activities that might help you feel more connected to your body, like dancing or dressing up just for fun. “I just want you to be happy with yourself,” he’d tell you softly, brushing his lips against your cheek.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Han

Jisung would try to lighten the mood whenever he noticed you struggling, cracking jokes or pulling you into a silly dance to distract you. But when things got serious, he’d be right there, holding your hand. “I get it, I really do,” he’d admit, his voice soft. “But I’m here to remind you that you’re incredible, okay? And I’ll tell you every day until you believe it.” He’d never push you to feel a certain way, but he would reassure you, making sure you knew he’s proud of who you are inside and out. His sense of humor would be a tool to make you laugh and feel better about yourself.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Felix

Felix’s approach would be pure warmth and reassurance. He’d cuddle you endlessly, stroking your hair as he whispered sweet affirmations. “I know it’s hard,” he’d say, his deep voice soothing. “But you’re my sunshine. You light up my world just by being here. Let’s focus on all the things you love about yourself together, yeah?” Felix would always try to make you feel seen and appreciated. He’d constantly remind you how you bring so much joy into his life, and that you don’t need to look any different for him to adore you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Seungmin

Seungmin might not always have the perfect words, but he’d show his love in quiet, meaningful ways. He’d do little things to lift your spirits, like leaving notes with compliments or encouraging you to talk through your feelings. “I don’t care about those things you worry about,” he’d say with a shrug, his gaze soft. “You’re you, and that’s all that matters.” He’d also take the time to remind you how much he values everything about you, not just your appearance, and that you don’t need to change a thing for him to think you’re incredible.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Jeongin

Jeongin would be a mix of adorably awkward and deeply caring. He’d try to cheer you up with jokes or silly antics, but when it came down to it, he’d hold your hands tightly and say, “I don’t want you to feel this way. I wish you could see how amazing you are, the way I do.” He’d be patient and supportive, always there to remind you that you’re loved. On tougher days, he’d be even more clingy than usual, wanting to keep you close and safe, never letting you doubt that you’re perfect in his eyes.

#bang chan imagines #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop fic

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glamourscat · 2 months ago

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Where Wild Hearts Find Home | SHIDOU RYUSEI

There's something fascinating about how perfectly SHIDOU would match with a foreigner. Think about it: he's everything Japanese society tells you not to be. He's loud, bold, and aggressive. A force of nature who never dims his light or filters his thoughts. From his striking style to his unapologetic presence he stands apart from the crowd refusing to blend into the background.

Even in Blue Lock he's an anomaly. The other players can't quite sync with his wild intensity, his untamed spirit. In a society that worships conformity and avoids individualism, how could someone like him ever truly belong? Every day is a reminder that he's different, that he's the odd one out.

Now imagine a foreigner in Japan, maybe they moved for work, maybe for something else entirely. They know what it means to be different, to feel like an outsider even in familiar spaces. Carrying that same feeling of being the black sheep, of never quite fitting in.

Then fate steps in and the two perhaps meet in a music store, their hands reaching for the same vinyl. Or maybe their eyes lock across a crowded train platform. Or it could be something as simple as both of them snatching, or trying to, the last bottle of black nail polish in a makeup store.

Of course Shidou would start a conversation, what's the worst that could happen? If they says no, they'd be just two more strangers in a city of millions. But something pulls him toward them, an invisible thread of connection he can't ignore. So he takes that chance. And somehow, that awkward first conversation with this strange turns into a coffee date. Then dinner. Then another date and another. Before they know it, they're wearing matching yukata at a summer festival.

And seasons change; suddenly he's everywhere. Like ink bleeding through paper. His name sits at the top of their contact list, the first to appear in the call log. His laughing face lights up their phone's lock screen. His presence makes every holiday brighter, his booming laughter filling rooms with a warmth that feels like home. His kisses, shared in the sanctuary of their bed—yes, theirs now—tell stories of belonging that words never could.

In the end, it turns out that the boy who never fit in anywhere found his perfect match in someone who understood exactly what it meant to be different. Like two pieces of a puzzle that seemed wrong until you realized they were meant for a different picture entirely. One they created together, wild and beautiful and perfectly their own.

──────── ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ────────

#blue lock #bllk x reader #shidou ryusei #blue lock headcanons #bllk shidou #bllk x you #shidou ryusei fluff #shidou headcanons #shidou ryusei imagine #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #blue lock shidou #shidou x reader

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unabashegirl · 3 months ago

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The Cover | part 4

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: Hello everyone, here is the final part of the cover. I've decided to keep the smut exclusive to my Patreon subscribers. I hope that is okay with you. Also remember that this is a shorter version of the original.

I'm trying to come up with new ideas for one shots. Pls vote! Especially if you are subscribed to Patreon! Help Decide the Next One-Shot!

I'm still trying to gather the money to continue my journey to medical school in January. I've only gotten 1% of my goal. I'll leave the link here in case you would like or are able to help me. Please I am desperate! 🥺 https://ko-fi.com/mariabernal8706

Collections on Patreon!: These are ⭐️one-time purchases⭐️ that give you access to specific stories or series, even if they’re not fully finished. 👉🏻 You’ll get all the chapters available so far and automatically receive any new chapters as they’re posted. 👈🏻No membership needed! It’s perfect for those who want to enjoy a specific story without a monthly subscription. Plus, it’s a great way to support my work while getting exactly what you’re excited to read. Head over to my Patreon, find the Collections section, and grab the one that speaks to you. Once purchased, the content is yours to enjoy as it’s updated.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

As the evening wore on, the rehearsal dinner turned into a carefree celebration under the soft glow of fairy lights. Laughter filled the warm air, wine glasses clinked, and the once-formal atmosphere relaxed into something more boozy and free-spirited. Most guests had trickled out, leaving behind only close family and friends, including the bride, who was barefoot and swaying on the grass.

Harry sat at the large wooden table, eyes on the makeshift dance floor where family members stumbled over each other, laughing. His blazer was discarded over his chair, the top buttons of his shirt undone, a sheen of sweat glistening on his chest. The summer night was humid, and the heat from earlier hung in the air, clinging to everyone like a heavy blanket. Harry ran a hand through his tousled curls, the dampness at his hairline a reminder of how sticky the night had become.

Harry leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, the other holding a glass of whiskey, now mostly just melted ice. He hadn’t been drinking much since the toasts, but the buzz from earlier still lingered, making him feel a little lighter than usual. His shirt clung to his chest, damp from the heat, and he unbuttoned another button to catch some air.

Across the yard, Y/N spun in her floral dress, laughter echoing in the warm night air, blending with the upbeat music from the DJ. Her cheeks were flushed, hair wild from dancing and drinks. She was the brightest thing in the yard, a glowing figure of joy among the family still hanging around.

Harry took a slow sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving her. She was magnetic—the way her dress swayed, the way she threw her head back when she laughed. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.

His shirt collar felt tight again, and Harry absentmindedly tugged at it, his eyes tracing the way Y/N’s dress hugged her in all the right places. There was something about the way she moved tonight—so free, so completely herself. It was like watching the most beautiful thing in the world, no filters, no pretenses.

He exhaled, a mix of admiration and frustration settling in. They hadn’t confessed anything yet—no love, no admissions of the truth that lingered between them. Watching her from the sidelines, it hit him just how deep he was in it.

Y/N’s cousin twirled her on the "dance floor," and for a split second, she stumbled, giggling as she caught herself. Beth, now barefoot, joined in, and the three of them—Y/N, her cousin, and Beth—started dancing in a clumsy circle, arms around each other’s shoulders.

The group’s laughter rang louder than the music, and even Y/N’s cousin—who had spent the evening showing off her fiancé and trying to impress Harry—was caught up in the happy, drunken haze of the night.

Harry sighed, rolling his shoulders and sinking back into his chair, the sweat on his skin cooling in the evening air. His gaze never left Y/N as she moved, effortlessly beautiful. It struck him again how out of place she seemed here—surrounded by these people, with their petty remarks and forced conversations. She was so much more than that. Watching her dance, carefree and full of life, made his chest tighten.

Then, as Y/N spun in the circle, her eyes met his. For a moment, her smile softened, more intimate, before she waved at him playfully, inviting him to join. Harry shook his head, raising his glass in a half-teasing salute.

She pouted, narrowing her eyes at him before rolling them and letting her arms drop from her cousin and Beth. Without missing a beat, she marched toward him, the fabric of her dress brushing her legs with each step.

“You’re really just going to sit there all night?” Y/N teased, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. Her voice was light, but the challenge in her eyes was undeniable.

“I’m enjoying the view,” Harry replied, his voice lower than he meant to. He grinned, but there was no mistaking the heat behind his gaze.

Y/N’s lips curved into a knowing smile, and she tilted her head, studying him for a moment. “The view’s better up close,” she said, holding out her hand.

Harry stared at her outstretched hand, the challenge and playful spark in her eyes tempting him. It was impossible not to be drawn in. His heart raced, the idea of crossing that line between friendship and something more pulling him in.

For a moment, he considered brushing her off with another excuse. But something shifted. A decision settled in his chest, heavy but certain.

Without another word, he reached out, his hand taking hers. Instead of getting up, he tugged her gently toward him. Y/N gasped in surprise as he pulled her close, his grip firm but careful. She stumbled slightly, and before she could react, Harry pulled her down onto his lap.

“Harry—” she whispered, voice breathless, the protest fading before it even left her lips.

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Y/N's legs draped over his lap as she sat sideways on him, his other hand settling on her thigh. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of her dress, the floral print fluttering slightly as she adjusted. The delicate pattern contrasted with the intimacy of the moment.

His heart raced, but he kept his voice steady. “Thought you’d look better here,” he murmured, his words laced with both playfulness and something deeper.

Y/N looked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless for a moment, her cheeks flushed from the sudden closeness. She shifted in his lap, slow and tentative, the nervous energy between them thick and palpable. Neither of them had fully acknowledged the tension before.

Her hands found his chest, fingers brushing against the open buttons of his shirt. She swallowed hard. “Harry, what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Was it a challenge? A question? Or just a way to steady herself in the chaos of emotions between them?

He smirked, though his heart felt like it might burst. "I don’t want to dance," he murmured in her ear. "I prefer being here with you."

Her breath hitched at his words. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She’d always hidden her feelings, pushed them aside, but this felt different. It felt real. The way Harry’s arms held her, the way his breath brushed against her skin—it was as if they’d always been this close, even when they hadn’t.

Y/N bit her lip, her nerves taking over for a moment. She wasn’t sure if this was just Harry being playful or if something had really changed between them. But as she sat in his lap, his hand on her thigh, the truth felt undeniable.

Harry could feel her hesitation, the tension in her posture, caught between leaning into him and pulling away. His thumb brushed over the fabric of her dress, a small, reassuring touch, silently telling her it was okay to stay.

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear, his voice low and soft. “Just… stay.”

Y/N exhaled, her body melting into his as she allowed herself to give in to the moment. She leaned her head back against his chest, their breaths syncing as they sat close and quiet, the fading party around them.

The world blurred into a soft hum, the laughter and music fading into the background. All that remained was the warmth of Harry’s embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand, and the electricity of their unspoken feelings finally surfacing.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, her hand resting over Harry’s on her thigh, fingers intertwining. “What are we doing, Harry?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, his lips near her temple. “I’m not sure,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to stop.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. For the first time that night, she allowed herself to believe—just a little—that maybe he felt the same way she did.

Y/N took a deep breath, summoning the courage she needed. The alcohol made her head spin, but it also gave her the boldness to act. She knew if anything was going to happen, it had to be now.

Suddenly, she stood up from his lap. Harry looked up at her, surprise and curiosity flashing in his eyes. Y/N reached for his glass, brushing against his fingers as she took it. Without breaking eye contact, she downed his drink in one swift motion.

Harry’s gaze was intense, a mix of desire and uncertainty in his eyes. Y/N’s heart raced, but she ignored the nerves and extended her hand to him—an invitation, a challenge, all in one.

For a moment, Harry hesitated, his eyes searching hers. Then, slowly, deliberately, he took her hand. Y/N felt a jolt of electricity as their fingers intertwined. With a gentle tug, she pulled him up from his seat, their bodies close, the tension between them undeniable.

Without a word, Y/N led Harry away from the fading party, through the quiet halls of the house. The sounds of laughter and music drifted behind them, their footsteps echoing softly in the silence, their heartbeats quickening in sync.

They reached the door to their shared bedroom, and Y/N paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned to face Harry, her eyes searching his.

His gaze was intense, a mix of desire and something deeper. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The simple touch sent shivers down her spine.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Y/N nodded, her voice barely audible. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, she turned the doorknob, and they stepped into the room together, closing the door behind them. The night was far from over, and whatever happened next would change everything.

Y/N woke up before Harry, her head pounding slightly from the drinks of last night. The dull throb of a hangover tugged at her, but the memories of the night before were as vivid as ever. Every touch, every whispered word, every lingering moment—it was all clear in her mind.

She lay there for a moment, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Her gaze drifted to Harry, lying beside her on his stomach, completely naked. The sheet had been kicked off during the night, leaving him uncovered. His broad back rose and fell with each slow breath, muscles relaxed, his messy curls falling across his forehead. He looked peaceful, vulnerable, and breathtakingly beautiful.

For a brief moment, Y/N let herself admire him—the smooth lines of his back, the curve of his spine, the way his body seemed perfectly at ease. A warmth spread through her chest, not just from the memories of their night together, but from the way Harry made her feel in this quiet, unspoken moment.

With a sigh, she slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. Grabbing a pair of pajamas from her suitcase, she slipped them on, the soft fabric comforting against her skin. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of the day ahead—the wedding, the ceremony, the reception.

Y/N cast one last glance at Harry before tiptoeing out of the room. She needed a moment to herself—and some breakfast—before the chaos of the day began.

Heading downstairs, she stepped into the dining room, still feeling the faint throb of a hangover, but the promise of coffee and food was enough to offer some relief. She spotted her cousin and Beth immediately. Both looked worse for wear after last night's festivities. Beth was lounging in her chair, sipping a Bloody Mary with a smug expression, while Y/N’s cousin—the bride—was nursing her headache with a cold compress pressed to her puffy face, slowly nibbling on toast.

"Morning," Y/N greeted as she made her way to the coffee pot, pouring herself a steaming cup. She sat down at the table, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help her survive the day ahead. Beth’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she took another sip of her drink.

"So," Beth said, leaning forward with a sly grin. "Where did you disappear off to last night?"

Y/N’s cheeks flushed with heat, the memory of waking up next to Harry still fresh in her mind. She tried to play it cool, taking a long sip of her coffee before responding. "We just... went to bed early," she said, keeping her tone casual, hoping to brush it off. "Nothing exciting."

Beth’s grin only grew wider. "Uh-huh. Sure. You just went to sleep, huh?" She leaned in, lowering her voice like they were sharing a secret. "Come on, Y/N, don’t be shy. You’re a dirty girl now, aren’t you?"

Y/N nearly choked on her coffee, her face burning even hotter as she shot a glare at Beth. "Beth, seriously," she muttered, feeling more exposed than she wanted to admit. Before she could say anything else, her cousin, the bride, spoke up.

"I’m actually glad we have a moment to talk alone," her cousin said, setting down her toast and focusing her attention on Y/N. Her voice was sweet, but there was a sharpness in it that immediately put Y/N on edge. "I’ve been wanting to bring this up for a while now."

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she turned to face her cousin. "Oh?"

Her cousin smiled tightly, pressing the ice pack harder against her swollen face. "I’ve been meaning to say… I’m a bit surprised, to be honest." She gave a small, pointed shrug before continuing. "That someone like Harry would notice… well, someone like you."

Y/N’s heart sank, though she’d braced herself for comments like this. Hearing it still stung. Her cousin’s words were dripping with condescension, like she couldn’t believe Harry would even look twice at Y/N, let alone be interested.

"Someone like me?" Y/N echoed, her voice calm but guarded, forcing herself to keep her tone even.

Her cousin waved a hand dismissively. "You know what I mean. You’ve always been so quiet, so reserved. And Harry’s... well, he’s Harry Styles. A global superstar. It’s just... unexpected, that’s all."

Y/N’s stomach twisted as insecurity rose to the surface. She’d always known Harry’s fame was a shadow that loomed over everything, especially in situations like this. But hearing it like this? It felt personal. It felt like her cousin was questioning her worth, her place beside Harry.

Before Y/N could think of a response, Beth cut in with a sharp laugh. "Oh, shut up," she said, dismissing the bride’s thinly veiled insult with a wave of her hand. "Harry doesn’t care about all that. If anything, he’s lucky Y/N even looks at him."

Y/N shot Beth a grateful glance, feeling the tension shift slightly in the room, but her cousin wasn’t done. She leaned back in her chair, sizing Y/N up with an unreadable look. "Well, I suppose we’ll see," she said, her voice laced with skepticism. "But it’s just... different. I never would've guessed."

Y/N swallowed, trying to keep her composure, but her cousin’s words hung in the air like a cloud she couldn’t shake. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile despite the nervous flutter in her chest. "Yeah," Y/N said softly. "It is different."

Beth, ever the firecracker, raised her Bloody Mary in a mock toast. "Different is good."

Y/N’s cousin’s voice dripped with saccharine sweetness, her next words like poison. "I mean, you’re just so... simple," she said, emphasizing the word in a way that felt anything but kind. "And that’s okay! Not everyone has to be flashy or... glamorous." She waved her hand dismissively, as if to brush aside any possibility that Y/N could be more than what she was implying. "You’ve always been the quiet one, the one in the background. I suppose some people might find that... charming."

Y/N forced a tight smile, but her cousin’s words stung deeper than she expected. Doubt crept in with every backhanded comment. Was she really that unremarkable? Did everyone see her the way her cousin did—as someone who didn’t quite belong with someone like Harry?

Beth wasn’t having any of it. “Simple?” she scoffed. “You mean down-to-earth, real—not fake like some people I can name.”

Her cousin smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Look at Harry’s usual type—models, actresses. Saw him with that model in London last week? They looked so into each other.”

Y/N froze, her stomach twisting. “What model?” she barely managed to ask.

Her cousin leaned back, eyes sparkling. “You must’ve seen the pictures. They were everywhere. Harry was all over her. Thought they were dating.”

Y/N’s head spun, images of Harry with someone else filling her mind. She hadn’t seen those photos, but the thought gnawed at her.

Beth wasn’t having it. “Can you stop stirring shit? Harry’s here with Y/N, clearly doesn’t care about some random model.”

Y/N’s cousin didn’t respond, just gave a tight smile. Y/N tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

Y/N’s cousin gave her a sweet, condescending smile. “I just thought they looked so... in love. But who knows?” Her eyes glinted, clearly relishing the discomfort she was trying to stir.

Y/N felt the doubt creep in, but instead of reacting, she straightened her back. She locked eyes with her cousin and said, her tone ice-cold, “You know, I could say a lot of things right now. Things that would take that smug look off your face.”

Her cousin blinked, caught off guard. Y/N smiled, the edge never leaving her voice. “But since it’s your wedding day, I’ll keep them to myself. I’ll play the part, smile for the cameras, and make sure everything’s ‘perfect.’”

With that, Y/N turned and walked away, the weight of the moment settling in as she left her cousin speechless. No more doubts. Not today.

Y/N shot her cousin a cold smile, letting the weight of her words sink in. "After today, we’ll be strangers. I don’t plan on speaking to someone so self-absorbed and cold-hearted ever again."

Beth raised an eyebrow, impressed by Y/N's bluntness, but her cousin's face fell, her shock turning to indignation. Before she could respond, Y/N brushed off her hands nonchalantly. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, let me know when hair and makeup get here," she said casually, turning on her heel and walking out.

But as soon as the door closed behind her, Y/N’s facade cracked. The anger that had fueled her words faded, replaced by confusion and pain. Her heart raced, and doubts flooded her mind. Was her cousin right? Did she really belong in Harry’s world? Or was this all just a fantasy? The thought of facing him upstairs—of confronting everything she was feeling—felt too overwhelming. She couldn’t do it, not now.

Y/N slipped quietly through the back door into the garden, the crisp morning air doing little to ease the storm inside her. Coffee cup in hand, she made her way to a small table, steam rising from the mug, the only warmth she could feel.

Her hands shook as she took a sip, the bitter taste matching the thoughts spiraling in her mind. The garden, serene and beautiful, felt like a different world from the chaos in her head.

She had no answers, no idea what to do, or where to go. It all felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

Y/N gripped the mug tightly, trying to steady her racing thoughts. But before she could find her peace, the back door creaked open.

Her mom stormed out, face flushed with anger. Y/N didn’t need to ask why—her cousin had already run to her, no doubt twisting things to make her the villain.

"Y/N!" her mom’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding. “What did you say to your cousin?”

Y/N tensed, her heart sinking. Of course, this was coming. She didn’t even look at her mom, just stared into her coffee, hoping it would swallow her whole.

"She came to me in tears, Y/N! Tears! On her wedding day! How could you be so cruel?"

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her voice steady. She didn’t want to argue—not when she felt so broken inside. "You don’t know what she said to me," she murmured. "She’s been making snide remarks all morning—about me, about Harry. About everything."

Her mom crossed her arms, annoyed. "She’s the bride, Y/N! You could’ve let it go. It’s one day. Now look at what you’ve done. The whole family is talking about it."

Y/N’s chest tightened. "It’s always about how things look, isn’t it?" she muttered, almost to herself. "I didn’t want to make a scene, but I wasn’t going to let her tear me down, not today. Not when I’m already—" she stopped, not wanting to show just how fragile she felt. "Not when she was being completely out of line."

Y/N’s heart dropped as her mother’s words hit their mark. “Out of line?” Her mom scoffed. “She was just pointing out the obvious. Harry isn’t like us. He’s not… your type. And everyone knows it. You should’ve thought twice before bringing him into all of this.”

The sting of her mother’s words cut deep. It was like being told, once again, that she didn’t fit in. That she was too much of an outsider, even in her own life. She felt small, like everything she’d worked so hard for wasn’t enough to make her belong.

“Mom,” Y/N whispered, trying to hold back the wave of emotion building in her chest. “Why do you always make me feel like I’m not enough?”

Her mother paused, just for a second, before shaking her head, as if dismissing Y/N’s hurt. “I’m just saying you need to be realistic,” she said, voice lowering as if that would soften the blow. “Harry’s great, but he doesn’t belong here. You don’t belong here. You need to think about what’s best for you.”

That was it. The words that would stay with Y/N for days. The ones that would echo in her mind, repeating like a broken record. She wanted to scream, to tell her mom how much it hurt, but instead, all she could do was blink back the tears. She didn’t have the strength to keep fighting, not now, not with everything weighing on her.

“Just… fix this,” her mom ordered, voice soft but still holding that cold command. “Make it right before the wedding starts. You owe her that.”

Y/N felt the world close in, her heart sinking lower than she ever thought it could.

Y/N’s heart sank as her mom walked away, leaving her standing in the cold. No response. No comfort. Just the weight of her words hanging in the air. She wiped at the tears that had started to spill, her chest tight with everything she couldn’t say, everything she couldn’t change.

She dragged herself upstairs, each step heavier than the last. Her mind was a mess, full of her cousin’s cruel comments and her mom’s cold disappointment. What was she supposed to do with all of this? Where could she go?

When she opened the bedroom door, the warm steam from the shower hit her like a wave, and there he was—Harry. Freshly showered, his damp hair curling at the ends, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He was toweling off, his back to her. For a moment, she stood frozen. Her heart ached, unsure of how to handle the storm brewing inside her.

Then he turned around, his face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, there you are,” he said, walking toward her with that familiar smile. But then, his expression faltered when he noticed the tear stains on her face, the redness in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand reaching for her. He moved toward her as if to kiss her, but stopped short, brow furrowed in concern.

Y/N opened her mouth, but no words came out. She tried to smile, to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was—everything felt too big. Her throat tightened, and the tears started all over again.

Harry’s face softened, his hands cupping her face gently as he wiped at the fresh tears. “Talk to me. What happened?”

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest. The question she didn’t want to ask, but needed to, bubbled up. “Are you seeing someone? A model?”

Harry froze. The question caught him off guard. “What? A model?”

Y/N's voice trembled, her tears barely held back. “Are you seeing a model, Harry? Please, just tell me the truth.”

Harry looked at her, confused. “What? No, I’m not seeing anyone. Where’s this coming from?”

She choked on her words. “My cousin said she saw pictures of you with someone in London last week, and—”

He immediately softened, understanding clicking. “Y/N, listen to me,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “If I was seeing someone, you’d know. I’m not dating anyone. It’s just you and me.”

Her heart lifted with the sincerity in his voice. He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. “You know how the media is—they make stories out of nothing. Those pictures? Nothing serious. Just some event.”

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just… everything here has me so confused.”

Y/N melted into Harry's embrace, the warmth of his words easing the ache in her chest.

Harry held her close, his hand soothing her hair. He pulled back slightly, his green eyes full of concern. "Y/N, we don't have to stay here," he said gently. "We can leave right now. You don't have to stay if it's making you feel like this."

Her heart raced as she blinked up at him. “But it’s the wedding…”

“I don’t care,” he cut in, shaking his head. “I don’t want to see you upset over something your cousin said. You don’t need to deal with that. Not another second.” He cupped her face, his eyes searching hers. “We can go. We’ll pack up, drive back to London—just you and me. Leave all this behind.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, knowing he meant it. He would drop everything for her, even for the weekend. The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.

“I don’t want to see you hurt, love,” Harry murmured. “If staying here means you’re miserable, then let’s go. We can make our own weekend. No pressure, no fake smiles, no cruel comments.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the idea of leaving so tempting. But she still hesitated. “Harry, I... I don’t know.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “It’s your choice. We stay if you want, but you don’t owe anyone here anything. Not even your family.”

Y/N rested her hands on Harry’s chest, leaning into his warmth. The idea of running away with him was tempting, but she couldn’t just walk away—not now, not after everything. Still, his words meant everything.

“I… I think I want to stay,” she whispered, voice steady. “I don’t want to run, Harry. Not from them.”

Harry nodded, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Alright. But if you change your mind, we’re gone. I’ll pack in a heartbeat.” His small smile made her laugh softly, despite the tears still clinging to her lashes.

“Thank you,” she murmured, sinking back into his arms. “For everything.”

“I’ve got you, always,” Harry whispered, his breath warm against her hair. “No matter what.”

The wedding was beautiful. Y/N couldn’t deny it. Despite the tension with her cousin, the love between the bride and groom was undeniable. Her cousin’s eyes sparkled as she walked down the aisle, and the way her fiancé looked at her—like she was the only person in the world—had Y/N’s heart swelling. She even teared up a little.

Though Y/N hadn’t patched things up with her cousin, she didn’t feel the need to apologize. She knew she’d done nothing wrong. Her cousin’s hurtful words had crossed a line, and Y/N wasn’t about to apologize for standing her ground. Harry agreed, and that was all that mattered.

As for Harry? He was the star of the wedding. Eyes constantly on him, people whispering and sneaking glances, captivated by the famous face. But Harry didn’t seem to care. His focus was entirely on one person.

Y/N.

he was wearing a sky-blue silk dress that seemed to float with every step. The fabric hugged her perfectly, and her hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away. Throughout the ceremony, the reception, and every moment in between, his gaze never left her—she was the most breathtaking thing in the room.

No matter how many people tried to pull him into conversation, Harry stayed focused on her. His hand found hers more than once, squeezing it under the table during speeches, or brushing her back as they weaved through the crowd.

Every time Y/N caught his gaze, her heart skipped a beat. That warm, genuine smile—just for her—made her feel like she was the only person in the world. There was an unspoken bond between them, growing stronger with every minute that passed.

As the night wore on, filled with laughter and celebration, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of pride. Not just for standing up for herself, but for the man standing by her side.

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