#but there are lots that I enjoyed just as much before and after it

[prael]

Day 1: Scandal

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.

If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.

There are a lot of those going around.

No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.

It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.

Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.

That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.

It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?

Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.

Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.

You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.

Didn't work too well.

There was a close call, once.

You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.

So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.

So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.

It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.

But damn was it fun.

She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.

But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.

A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.

Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.

Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."

If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...

See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.

So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?

A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.

Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.

She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.

And it wasn't soft either.

It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.

"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."

"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.

She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.

Tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.

As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.

"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.

There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.

A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.

You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.

See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.

She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."

For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.

So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.

You weren't gentle.

Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.

So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.

Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.

A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.

"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.

No danger of that.

Maybe you should have.

Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.

But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.

So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.

See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.

She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.

One stroke and you bottomed out within her.

Two strokes and she began moaning again.

By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.

The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.

"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.

And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.

You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.

She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.

How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.

"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.

It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.

And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.

Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.

You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.

Her phone caught it all.

Every minute.

When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.

"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."

She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.

"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."

She looked right into your eyes as she said it.

"It's my favourite thing in the world."

So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.

In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."

"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.

"Doubt it," you replied.

Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.

"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.

Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.

You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.

"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."

And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."

"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.

Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.

She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.

Your phone rang.

"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.

Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.

She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.

Your phone kept ringing.

You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.

You came again.

Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.

Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."

"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.

"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."

A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.

"Fuck them," she laughed.

"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"

Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.

"You're relentless," you marvelled.

"And you love it."

"I love-"

There's a bang at the door and then a bell.

Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.

Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.

"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."

You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.

She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.

More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.

The icon has the word 'live' beside it.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.

Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.

Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.

[funky-brainedwhaletransgender]

But seriously I have an annual crochet hyperfixation right around the holidays when people are all over my house. It genuinely makes socializing so much easier. People almost expect you to only participate on your own terms. You become a sort of cozy decor that’s appreciated but left mostly alone. People always ask the same thing: what are you making? That’s exactly one script to write and recite. The ideal predictable interaction.

I don’t even do it consciously at this point. Just a few weeks before all the ‘festivities’ I suddenly feel the urge to buy yarn and learn a quick little pattern for something I can make a whole lot of, just constantly, in the background.

Since I’ve fallen into that pattern (note the wordplay) visitors feel more like guests than home invaders. I can enjoy family mostly on my own terms.

A tip to maximize this strategy: always forget a tool you need in your room or car. You can step out and spend almost as long as you’d like ‘looking for it.’ It’s better than excusing yourself to use the toilet, because no one worries you’re having digestive upset if you take longer than expected. It’s a tiny little yarn needle you were looking for, after all.

It’s also useful for those of us on the AuDHD side of things or in general those of us who struggle to remember to get gifts. Find a handful of patterns you can pump out quick and boom, handmade gifts that everyone will at least appreciate for the effort that when into them.

PS. With crochet especially there are a lot of stim toys/tools you can make. Even just a tangle of scrap yarn can be fantastic.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙

oddballs and eggnog

goofybf! x THICC male reader

summary: love me a nerdy man that’s got a lil spice to him. plus a lil xmas lore!

notes: HI BEAUTIFULS! merry xmas to those who celebrate. it’s been a while fr, my bad dawgs uni work has been ploughing my ass so violently im reconsidering if a degree is even for me. but as a masochistic bottom, i had to channel my energy elsewhere; thus, this fic is just me showing the variety of my tastes as the true indecisive femboy that i am. show me a cute guy and i will plan my whole life with him. i need to get a grip.

originally, i canonically wrote this character with ginger hair (y’all know i fold for redheads), but the more i kept writing, the clearer it became to me that dark brown hair/black aligned with my OWN understanding of him. it’s all fiction anyways so feel free to adapt body types as you see fit. enjoy my lovelies 🎀

album rec: flo - access all areas. these girlies have my heart. been following them since about 2022 and they are genuinely my fave artists, cannot wait for flo world domination.

you guys had mutual acquaintances for a couple years, but it wasn’t until the two of you got to university that your friendship really blossomed. the engineering student didn’t have the best luck when it came to relationships; in fact, people would only toy with his emotions when they wanted something from him, so he learnt to put up a wall of cynicism.

these barriers he had fortified for his own protection made him quite a reserved guy. never cruel or nasty. just quiet. sure, he wasn’t a complete loner, he had a few VERY close bros who he’d let in, but it was clear that in this silence, he was safe.

he’s super handsy, whether that means pulling you on his lap, be it at parties or when he’s gaming, or placing his hands in your back pocket when y’all walk to class, he just wants to hold you. probably got something to do with the fact that he needs to make sure you’re real and not the angel he believes you to be. you love your needy bf and his craving for physical touch.

this is kinda juxtaposed by how flustered he gets by your words. the minute you whisper in his ear, he could cum in his jeans on the spot. he gets so red when you compliment him which makes him squeeze you tighter.

he wasn’t a virgin before meeting you, he’d had a few hookups but nothing sexual with someone he genuinely cared about. as a result, it made sense why he was very nervous when it came to your first time together.

to relax him, you decided to give him a blowjob to ease the tension and allow him to cum quick in the first round so he’d last longer during anal. sat back on the edge of his bed, he wore a vest and baggy joggers, awaiting your fingers to unleash his raging boner. you knelt down and flashed a comforting smile to him, which he failed to mirror perfectly.

‘we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready to. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.’ you said concerned, stroking his abs, clear to you that he was stressing.

‘nah baby, i want this so bad. it’s just gotta be really special because you’re really special to me.’ he said gripping your chin.

‘i love you, y/n. like a lot.’

‘i know that you weirdo, i love you too, you mean so much to me.’

‘now, lemme show you how much.’ you said coyly, to which he was more than happy to oblige.

when i tell you, your man eats so well that his cum is literally like milk. the typa white, thick, pearly cum that you would swallow every drop of, because it truly is just disrespectful not to. the first time he came was a surprise for the two of you. he didn’t realise how much he loved seeing his cum all over your face, decorating your juicy, wet lips. the head you gave him was so good, he napped for 2 hours straight after you drained him. but that deffo changed him for the better.

his hobbies include boxing and gaming. he’s such a nerd he makes his own demo projects, playing with his classmates. you always chastise him for not making his hobby a lucrative endeavour - your boy’s got a talent and he doesn’t seem to know it. equally, he loves his legos and comics just as much as he enjoys coding, making you the prettiest bouquet of lego flowers for your first date. after spending some time walking, he took you back to his place and y’all spent the entire night binging his favourite marvel and dc films.

one time it was his birthday and you thought it be a good idea to make a short graphic novel of the journey of your relationship - ending steamily with you pregnant.

‘baby, i love this so much! who knew how sexy you’d look with a baby bump?’ ‘anything can happen in the multiverse’ you laugh, as he kissed your jaw.

‘I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight.’

as we have established, he’s far from experienced. he holds your hand through missionary always because it makes him feel safe. makes so many jokes during it as a way to deflect. lowkey loves being choked. you took the lead most of the time before, using him as a pole and ride the shit out of him.

but, that night he ploughed you with a sense of purpose, so deep and mercilessly that your insides were moulded into an incubator for any hypothetical foetus he would soon impregnate you with. after, he laid curled up next to you, caressing the belly that he had now filled with

‘i hate biology sometimes,’ he says breathlessly. ’you’d look so good with our lil baby growing inside your belly.’

your boyfriend is the goofiest mf ever; playing practical jokes on all his friends and fulfilling his role as your comedian. definitely one of your favourite characteristics of his.

his sleeper build is INSANE. he might appear tall and lanky, but he is far from it. bench pressing more than 100 kilos with one arm - the brudda is basically superman. he’s what you’d get if clark kent had ginger hair, and was a huge weirdo.

though he cannot dance to save his life. he used to be very awkward and shy, but the minute them clothes are off and you two are in the sheets? stroke game is giving pornstar baby girl lemme tell you! ever since your first time, it’s like you awaken the sexual drive in him that’s been missing all his life. this, paired for his complete adoration for you makes him a lethal weapon in bed - quite literally, your man casually packs an 8 inch pussy destroyer with veins that massage and pummel your gummy walls so well.

after this moment he became the BIGGEST TEASE. slapping his dick all over your face. as you chase his dick like a good puppy, he giggles at how desperate you are. ‘sweet Jesus you feel good’. ‘holy shit’. ‘don’t act like you don’t love it.’ painting hickeys all over your neck . he loves when ppl ask you because of how flustered you get, makes him want to mark you more. he’s no longer shy to the world and he thanks you everyday for that. living to call you princess - in both a mocking and endearing tone, he loved toying with your nipples because you’re his lil doll. in cowgirl he will play with them whilst jerking you off to get you to cum all over his abs. and! he LOVES eating ass - like almost obsessively, as if he’s high of your pussy.

he smells so good. so good. you always act like a bitch in heat whenever he steps out of the shower with a towel skimpily wrapped around his adonis belt.

your bf loves playing with his cum and using his dick as a paintbrush to decorate your belly, butt, and face. ‘my masterpiece’ + ‘my muse’ he professes. somehow managing to entrance you to always stroke his dick during makeout sessions. he brings his hands to play with your hair, knowing that his dick is in extremely good hands with you - literally. always pulling you off of his dick because he is really sensitive and ur mouth is a fucking weapon, but will show you that he’s the boss and could leave you bedridden for a couple days after a good fuck.

things he would say drunk off of eggnog:

‘i would die a happy man beneath those beautiful cheeks of yours’

‘put ur hole on my North Pole.’

‘ay, you Don’t get to call me handsome unless you’re gonna HANDsome of those fat cheeks of yours to my lap.’

‘come on, I’ve been a good boy, Santa says gimme some of that pussy you know I love so much.’

‘that ass of yours, come here lemme unwrap it.’

this man has you written into his destiny. he always dreamed of raising a son and dressing him up in the flyest outfits and with you, that desire became reality. you too truly are a match made in heaven.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙

taglist:

@ghostking4m

@gayaristocrat

@lysanderplume

@acoustickitten

[taeyongdoyoung]

poison

summary: tasting the king's meals for poison is a great honour to be bestowed on you. but poison is not the only thing you're interested in tasting... paring: king!haechan x maid!reader genre: royalty!au, romance, drama, smut warnings: reader has anxiety, food-tasting, mentions of poison, hierarchical system, rich guy/poor girl trope, shitty ex jaemin (sorry boo 💞), evil uncle trope, threats, mentions of blood, insecurities, crying, pet names, lots of kissing, inexperienced reader, lowkey corruption kink, fingering, handjob, cum-eating, loss of virginity, unprotected sex author's note: the plot is loosely inspired by some historical kdramas and the folk of the air trilogy 🥰 also, there are some references to nct songs in bold bc it's me, duh word count: 4.8k

Your life as a maid in the royal palace is pretty boring. You wake up, you prepare meals in the kitchen, you wash clothes, you clean rooms, you sneak a piece of stale bread if you find any (if you're lucky even some cheese), you go to sleep, repeat. Every day is the same. No drama, no adventure, nothing out of the ordinary. You don't like it but it's all you can do so you can send some money to your poor family.

That is until on one random day you are summoned to the king's chambers immediately, the other maids saying it is of utmost importance. You are panicking. Did you do something wrong? You try to attend to your duties with all the care and attention to detail possible. Will you be scolded or worse, punished, for some mistake you cannot place? You try to calm your rapidly beating heart, as you enter the king's room.

Looking down nervously, you bow deeply, not able to think of anything else to say, rather than mumbling a weak "Your Majesty".

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you," king Haechan says in his signature deep voice.

His words do little to ease your mind and your hands are still shaking.

"I've been told by my most trusted counsellor that I have many enemies and cases of poisoned aristocrats have been increasing. So, after discussing it in great detail, he advised me to look for a food taster. Someone I could count on not to betray me," the king explains.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, but w-why me?" you ask meekly.

"You know my counsellor Jaemin, don't you? I believe you two were once…intimate. He said you could definitely be trusted. And I trust him with my life, so…"

Your damn ex Jaemin…You can't tell if him recommending you to the king as a potential food taster is a compliment or a curse. After all, you could literally die from poison. But then again, what can you do? You can't exactly disobey the king's direct command. At the end of the day, he bestowed a great honour on you. Anyone else would be jumping with joy. Anyone else but you.

"Your Majesty, I'm not denying you, of course. It's just that…I'm the only source of income for my poor parents. I can't bear to think of them all on their own."

"You have my word. Should anything happen to you…your parents will be well taken care of," the king promises and there is so much compassion and sincerity in his voice, you have no choice but to believe him.

"Very well, then. I'll try all your meals before you," you vow solemnly.

"Splendid," the king claps his hands.

That is how your boring days at the royal palace come to an abrupt end. You try the first couple of meals anxiously and with little appetite. Your stomach hurts from nervousness and not because there is any poison in the food. As time goes by, the food-tasting process becomes second nature to you. Eventually, you convince yourself that the chances of actual poison are low and you begin to enjoy your daily interactions with the king.

"What do we have for lunch today, my sweetest treasure?" the king asks. You like how he addresses you. As if you are genuinely important to him. As if it would pain him if he lost you. It's a kind gesture to distract you from the reality of how replacable you are.

"Your favourite, Your Majesty. Kimchi jjigae," you respond politely.

"Yesss, it's gonna be a great day!" the king squeals happily like a little boy.

It is an unwelcome reminder of how young he actually is. Unwelcome because you cannot imagine how difficult it must be for him. Enemies lurking at every corner, having all this power and responsibilities…and no one to share them with.

After you try the kimchi jjigae and check its safety, the king begins eating excitedly.

"You know that not all poisons kick in immediately, right?" you know it's rude to interrupt him but you cannot help yourself. "There is still a chance that we both get poisoned but the symptoms appear later."

"I know, but…" the king sighs, his mouth still full. Once he finishes chewing, he finishes his sentence. "It's still a precaution. At least Jaemin seems to think so."

You roll your eyes at the mention of your ex.

"Did you not end things on good terms?" the king is curious.

"We just…had lots of differences. Jaemin, being from a higher social class, said that I was just a way to pass the time. That he didn't see any future for us…That he would never marry me."

"Ouch," the king keeps chewing his favourite food. "I mean, it's technically true you belong to different worlds, but he could have said it more nicely."

"Do you trust his judgement? I'm not talking about relationships. Just…on the topic of poisons and stuff," you need to know.

"I suppose. We've known each other for so long, it'd be silly not to trust him."

"May I make a suggestion?" you inquire. "I know I'm not as qualified as Jaemin, but it's still worth taking other people's opinions into consideration."

"Sure," the king shrugs. "What did you have in mind?"

"If there are so many cases of aristocrats being poisoned, why don't you try taking a little poison each day to build an immunity? I've heard this method is quite common in other kingdoms."

"Where did you learn that?" the king asks you suspiciously.

"I read it in a book somewhere."

"You can read? No offense."

"None taken. When I'm done with my maid duties, I sneak into the royal library sometimes. Don't tell the king," you joke.

"Your secret's safe with me," the king laughs.

Time passes in the same old way. Cleaning, cooking and food-tasting. Repeat. One evening, the king summons you again.

You are about to take a bite from the food before him when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist and stops you.

"I don't want you to do that anymore," he murmurs.

"What?"

"I've started taking a little poison each day to build an immunity, like you advised me to. So far, I've been doing alright. And…I just think it's unfair, alright? What if you actually die?" the king whispers, as if the thought is so unbearable to him he can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I…trust you too much."

He trusts you? The thought is so bizarre in a flattering way your heart hurts upon hearing his sincerity.

"Are you planning to find another food-taster, then?" the very question is painful to you. Despite the potential danger, you don't want to be replaced. You want to keep being his person.

The king shakes his head.

"No life is worth more than mine. I'm not doing that outdated thing anymore."

"Of course, your life is worth the most! You are the king!" you exclaim passionately, pulling the food towards you.

"You think I don't know that?" he whisper-shouts, taking the food once again. "You think I don't wake up each morning wishing things were different?"

What…what is he on about? Why would he wish he wasn't the king?

"I'm not sure I follow," you say quietly.

"It's fine. I don't understand myself. Just…don't tell anyone, okay? Not even Jaemin. Let everyone believe you're still tasting my food and come at the allotted times as usual."

The not even Jaemin part shocks you. Does he no longer trust him as he once did? What is going on?!

"As you wish, Your Majesty," you respond, not even thinking of disobeying him. As confusing as everything is, you need him to trust you. More than you've needed anything else in your life.

"Oh and…one more thing. You should call me Haechan. When we're alone, that is."

"Uhm, okay. Haechan?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" he tilts his head cutely.

"Nothing, just trying it out," you chuckle.

Haechan laughs warmly and starts eating calmly.

"I can't tell if you're brave or reckless," you tease him.

"Perhaps both," he shrugs.

One Monday, your worst fear comes true. As you are preparing Haechan's meal, you are faced with his uncle. You've never been a fan of him for some unknown reason, but now you know your suspicions were completely justified.

"Give me the meal," he orders and you are so terrified, you do as he asks.

He pulls a vial out of his pocket and pours it on top of the food nonchalantly, mixing it well with a spoon, so that it doesn't show.

"Say a word to the king and you parents are dead," he threatens.

"What do you know about my parents?" you ask boldly. Foolishly, even.

After Haechan's uncle says the names of your parents and the exact location of their home, you realize he isn't bluffing. What are you going to do?

As you enter Haechan's chambers, you realize you can't do it.

"Ooh, this looks delicious," Haechan is about to put the food into his mouth when you rudely push the spoon away from him, spilling the food all over the ground.

"It's super cold and totally unappetizing," you exclaim the first thing that comes to mind.

Haechan eyes you weirdly but doesn't scold you.

"Have this, instead," you pull a sweet pastry from your pocket, knowing it's safe.

Haechan shrugs, not caring about what he's given.

"So yummy," he smiles happily, not suspecting a thing.

If you tell him, your parents are dead. If you don't, he's dead. Sooner or later.

When his evil uncle questions you later, you lie through your teeth that the king wasn't hungry and tossed the food away in an angry fit. Miraculously, his uncle believes that.

Similar things happen throughout the week. On Tuesday, you eat the food meant for Haechan yourself, hoping that the self-poisoning you've been doing in secret with the help of your apothecary friend Renjun will be plenty of protection and that you'll survive this extra dose of poison. On Wednesday, you explain to Haechan that the food was made with old ingredients and give him a piece of bread and some cheese you've set aside. On Thursday, you once again make a mess and spill the meal, pretending it was a clumsy accident. On Friday, you tell Haechan that you saw a cockroach in the food. Very far-fetched but it somehow works?! On Saturday, you go as far as lying to Haechan that you were so hungry you ate his food in the corridor.

Not once does he question you or get angry. His evil uncle, however, is becoming more and more agitated.

On Sunday, the uncle has had enough of your failed attempts to poison the king. And he shows you something that makes your blood run cold.

Two chopped-off fingers that he claims belong to your parents.

"If you fail again, it'll be their entire hands next time. And then, their heads. Choose wisely," he threatens cruelly.

You seem to be at an impasse.

As you are once more left alone with Haechan, you debate what to do. You are running out of ideas. Haechan's spoon is approaching his mouth eagerly. After all, he's been eating nothing but bread and random snacks all week. Your mind goes blank. If he eats that, he'll surely die. If he doesn't, your parents might die. It's an impossible situation. But you are greedy. Greedy to save both his life and your parents'.

"Stop," you cry out.

Haechan's hand freezes mid-air. It's now or never.

"I have betrayed you, Your Majesty, please kill me," you drop to your knees desperately.

"I told you to call me Haechan," he rolls his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Your uncle has been trying to kill you," you blurt out. "He's been putting poison in your meals for the past week. I kept trying to come up with ridiculous reasons to prevent you from eating it but…he's been threatening my parents. Today he showed me two chopped-off fingers and said the next time I fail to poison you, it'll be their hands and the final time, their heads, but…I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" Haechan asks you to clarify.

"I can't poison you," you admit, eyes filled with tears. Even though your parents' lives are in grave danger, losing Haechan would hurt just as much.

"Could have just said that from the beginning instead of feeding me bread for a week," Haechan teases.

"You believe me?" you inquire nervously. Only now does the gravity of the situation strike you. What if he'd chosen to side with his uncle and executed you for treason?

"Jaemin's been warning me about my uncle plotting against me for a while now. I thought it was just his paranoia, but…I'm inclined to believe you and Jaemin."

"Over your own flesh and blood?" you are pleasantly surprised.

"Blood doesn't necessarily make you family," Haechan shrugs. "Okay, here's the plan. We'll sneak out of the palace and go find your parents. We'll make sure they go somewhere my uncle won't be able to find them."

You nod numbly, amazed at how quick he's thinking and finding a way out of this situation.

"Then, we'll return to the palace and make my uncle regret ever trying to mess with us."

"Us?" you repeat.

"Yeah, us," Haechan confirms. "We're in this together, no?"

"Hell yeah!" you reply, infected by his enthusiasm to find a solution.

Once you dress up with cloaks and daggers, Haechan leads you through a secret tunnel hidden behind the royal library that takes you both out of the palace.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Haechan whispers in your ear, his hand on your lower back, making you gasp for air.

"Who am I gonna tell? The king?" you joke to distract him from how affected you are by his gentle touch.

"Yeah, he should never know about this," Haechan chuckles in the dark and kisses you on the lips, taking you by surprise. You…he…what?!

You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for the way he grounds you and makes you believe it will all be alright, you'll find a way out of this mess. Together.

He is the one to initiate the kiss but sadly, he is also the one to end it as abruptly as it started.

"As much as I'm enjoying the taste of your lips, we have to get to your parents and make sure they're okay."

"Right, right," you agree. He's more concerned about your parents than you, which speaks volumes about his noble character.

You resist the urge to swoon and try to focus on the task at hand.

Once you get to your parents' place, you are happily amazed to find all their fingers intact! That bastard was bluffing!~But the question remains…whose fingers were that?!

"You'll have to go to another town," you explain impatiently. "Haechan has some trusted friends who'll take you in."

"H-haechan?" your mom repeats in shock upon hearing you call the king by his first name.

"Uhh," you look to Haechan nervously for a way to explain. You know he told you to only call him that when it's the two of you but it just slipped so naturally…

"It's okay," he reassures you. "Your daughter has saved my life on multiple occasions. Making sure you two are fine is the least I could do."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," your dad is even more stunned by Haechan's gentle demeanour.

"Just returning the favour. Your daughter's irreplaceable."

Oh. You wonder if he truly believes that or is simply trying to ease your parents' worries.

Soon enough, you parents are travelling to Haechan's friends and you and the king are riding back to the palace.

Immediately, he summons a court meeting and gives the order for his uncle to be brought to justice in front of all the aristocrats. His uncle is struggling to escape the guards' arms and screaming treason. But Jaemin's and your account of the uncle's actions are enough to convince the people of the truth. Eventually, other aristocrats start speaking up of suspicious things Haechan's uncle has done or said like threatening them or their family in an attempt to take the throne. In no time, the uncle is imprisoned.

"You should have just killed him," Jaemin tells Haechan quietly. "He would have done the same to you."

"I do things differently," Haechan replies. "If you were king, you'd understand."

Jaemin shrugs.

"Lucky for me, I'll never know what that's like."

Haechan rolls his eyes, trusting that his friend has no such ambitions and is happy with his life as a counsellor.

Even with the threat of Haechan's uncle behind bars, he still continues to take little doses of poison to build an immunity. You don't tell him but you do the same, carrying on with food-tasting his meals before him. You value your life, sure. But you value his more.

One random Tuesday, Haechan summons you to his chambers. But the hour does not indicate food-bringing activities. Just like the first time, you are overwhelmed by a strange sense of anxiety. Even though you've known him for so long and have been through so much together, it still unnerves you, being alone with him. You don't know if things would be different if he weren't king. Perhaps not. There is just something about Haechan that makes your knees tremble in the best way possible.

"You've asked to see me, Your Majesty?" you mumble.

"When will you get rid of that annoying habit? It's just me…Haechan," he reminds you needlessly.

"I know, but you're still the king."

"That sounds so detached," Haechan groans. "But I'm hoping what I have to say will convince you to only call my name. Not just when we're alone."

"What are you saying?" you're beyond confused.

"Marry me. Become the queen of my kingdom," he pleads, taking your hand in his.

"But…you can't," you whisper in shock, reminded of how adamant Jaemin was. And if the distance between your place in society and Jaemin's was big…then, the distance between your and Haechan's worlds seems far more insurmountable.

"I can," Haechan looks more determined than anything to do this.

"People will talk…They won't be happy."

"Fuck people," Haechan scoffs. "Will you have me or not?"

"Of course, I will, Haechan," you cry out. "You've shown me more kindness and understanding than anyone in my life."

"You do know I'll give you anything you desire?" Haechan speaks softly. "As long as you're by my side, as you have been so far."

"You do know I don't want anything, right? Even if you weren't king, I'd choose you in any universe."

"Are you serious?" Haechan smiles in disbelief, the idea so foreign to him.

"Of course I am," you insist. "Even if you were a poor bard singing in taverns."

"Hm. I do love singing," Haechan smirks and kisses you.

And gods, his lips are sweeter than any meal you've tasted and every poison you've consumed. You could never get enough.

Your wedding day finally arrives. Shockingly, people are more accepting of your union than you anticipated, because they take your food-taster position in consideration and how valiantly you exposed Haechan's evil uncle. Your parents, as well, are happy to see you and Haechan together.

However, there is one person who is against.

"Is that why you broke up with me? Aiming high, I see," Jaemin snickers rudely once you are out of Haechan's sight for a brief moment at the wedding afterparty.

"I broke up with you because you said I was just a way to pass the time and you see no future for us. If you think I'm with Haechan because of his crown, you're even more foolish than I thought," you scoff.

"Oh, really?" Jaemin raises his eyebrows. "So, you're saying if Haechan lost his title as king, you'd still be with him?"

"Yes, I would. But the fact you're even talking about that can be considered treason by some."

"You know I'm loyal to Haechan. But do you honestly think you're good enough for him? You could never satisfy him. He'll grow tired of you, you'll see. You're so fucking…cold," Jaemin hisses.

His words sting more than when he implied you were with Haechan because of his power. It is true that you are not experienced. Even though you were with Jaemin for a while, you two never…went all the way. You were perhaps far too romantic but you wanted to save it for your wedding night.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll never get to feel how warm I can be," you say with a self-assured smile. "Now, piss off and let me enjoy my wedding."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and seemingly has nothing else to say, leaving you alone.

Why did he have to say all that stuff? You know it's not entirely true, but it still sucks. Jaemin was the one who ended what you two had with his cruel words. It's just that you were the only one brave enough to finally call it quits. And you're glad you did. He may be bitter now but he'll eventually find someone better suited for his character. As for you…you were perfectly happy with Haechan. And you wouldn't let Jaemin ruin your special day.

Eventually, the guests started leaving one by one and it was time for your wedding night. To say you are nervous would be an understatement. Your hands are shaking more badly than the first time you were summoned to Haechan's chambers. You are aware that he's a good person who will treat you right…but he's still your king and that fact is intimidating enough to make you tremble with anticipation.

"Good evening, my lovely wife," Haechan enters your (gods, this is insane) now shared room.

Your mind completely blanks and you have no idea what to say. So, you just start crying.

Haechan immediately rushes to you, embracing you and kneeling next to you.

"What's wrong? What did I do?"

"N-nothing," you manage. "It's not your f-fault."

"What is it?" he asks again. "Did Jaemin say anything?"

"How did you know?" you blink furiously to clear your vision from the tears.

"He's not over you yet, is he? It's obvious from the way he looks at you. And me. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still as objective as he can be when giving me advice, but…he sometimes stares at me as if I stole his dinner. Not that you're dinner. You're obviously much more important than that and uh…I really should stop talking, shouldn't I?"

You laugh, pleasantly distracted by his ramblings.

"You're good. And he did say some stuff implying I was a gold digger, but…frankly, I don't care about his opinion."

"I'm gonna kill him," Haechan gets up but you are quick enough to grab his wrist.

"No, please, stay. Let him think what he wishes. I only care about what your opinion of me."

"Darling, I am perfectly confident you did not marry me because of my title."

"I know. I'm not talking about that. I mean…I'm just nervous I won't be able to please you. I've never done this before," you explain nervously.

"You and Jaemin never…?" Haechan waves his hand in the air meaningfully.

"I wanted to wait till my wedding night. So, um, here we are, I guess."

"Oh, my angel," Haechan places a hand on your cheek. "You don't have to worry about that. Just, relax, and let me take care of you."

"No, no. Teach me. I'll do anything you say, just…guide me, please?" you plead him, looking up at him, your eyes still moist with tears.

"Okay," Haechan agrees easily. "Take off your clothes."

You gulp anxiously and start unbuttoning your wedding dress. Why is it so hard? Why are there so many freaking buttons?

"Gods, you're trembling," Haechan points out the obvious and his impatience takes over. He removes your hands from your dress and finishes the remaining buttons himself. You are grateful for his help, but you still feel like a total failure for not being able to complete one simple task.

"I'm s-sorry," you pout.

"Don't apologize," Haechan shakes his head. "Can I touch you?"

You nod and he caresses you with his pretty fingers. It feels so sticky and weird but…weird good. Definitely good.

"You're so cute, you know that?"

"N-no, stop," you disagree, chuckling.

"Stop what? Stop doing this?" Haechan teases you but continues his motions, because he sees how much you're enjoying it.

"Stop calling me cute," you elaborate.

"You're so not cute," Haechan obliges jokingly. "That was a lie, by the way."

You laugh again, not just because of his words, but because the things he's doing with his hands make you feel so amazing you can't hold it in.

"You like that, my pretty wife? You like being touched by your husband?" Haechan talks you through it.

"Yes! So much! You have no idea!" you scream as you fall apart under him.

"I think I do," he smirks proudly and lets you ride it out. Then, he takes his fingers out…and licks them clean. Your eyes widen in shock. You've never imagined such a sight possible. The king of the country just did…THAT to you. And against all reason, you're still breathing.

"Show me how to do this to you," you beg, wanting to make him feel as good as you.

"It won't be the same," Haechan giggles. "But I'll give the best of me."

He takes off his clothes hurriedly, extremely excited to teach you everything he knows. You are amazed to see him in his full glory. His golden skin radiates in the dimlit room.

"You look incredible," you gasp.

Haechan tilts his head to the side, his cheeks turning red.

"May I touch you?" you ask reverently, still in awe of his sun-like beauty.

"We're married. Of course you can," Haechan reminds you sweetly and guides your hand, showing you all the way he likes to be touched, telling you what feels good and what doesn't (though everything you do feels good for him but he won't tell you just yet).

You do your best to follow his instructions and soon enough become bold enough to start experimenting yourself. He is enjoying it judging by the expressions on his heavenly pretty face.

"You're so hard. Isn't it uncomfortable?" you inquire, genuinely curious.

"It kinda is. But it's also a good thing. It means I'm really into you."

"The way when you touch me and I'm drippin' and it's kinda strange but also feels nice?" you try to explain the logic in your own terms.

"Exactly that way. You're a quick study," Haechan praises you.

"I just have a very good teacher," you compliment him in return and kiss him deeply, your hand still stroking him.

Soon enough, his release comes and you marvel at how much of it there is. You gather some of it with your finger and lick it, just like he had done with you.

"Fuck. You don't have to do that," Haechan moans.

"But you did it? Isn't it okay?" you blink innocently.

"It's not that it isn't okay. Just saying, you don't have to. I bet it tastes weird."

"No, it's not weird," you shake your head adamantly. "I mean, it's you, so I think it tastes sweet."

"Better than poison?" Haechan teases.

"Definitely better," you agree without thinking.

"I know you've been tasting my meals even when I told you to stop," Haechan blurts out all of a sudden.

"You knew?" you whisper in shock.

"I felt so bad but I didn't mention it because I knew no matter what I said, you'd keep doing it."

"You thought correctly," you sigh. "But you don't have to feel bad. I'm also taking little doses of poison each day, so I'll be fine. We'll both be fine, I'll make sure of it."

Haechan kisses you again, gripping your hair firmly, but gently at the same time.

"Remind me again what did I do to deserve you?"

"Did the Sun ever do anything but shine to make the Earth revolve around it?" you smile fondly.

"You're saying I'm your Sun?" Haechan presses his forehead against yours.

"Provided I'm your Earth," you respond.

"Well, did you know the fate of the Earth is to be consumed by the Sun?" Haechan informs you with a sweet voice but sombre expression.

"Consume me, then," you gladly consent and he slides inside of you all too smoothly.

Earth and Sun, moving together as one. Two entirely different worlds and yet…you belong with each other.

"You're too sweet for me," you murmur, chasing his lips once more.

"You've had too much poison your taste buds are off," Haechan jests.

"Maybe so," you grin. "I should probably drink more of you as an antidote."

"I'm counting on it, my beloved wife."

The End

[b4ddprincess]

everyone is different 🤍❄️

find what you'll be most comfortable with doing

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and i truly hope that you enjoyed your Christmas! for those who don't celebrate, i really hope that you enjoyed your day today 🩷

one thing that we need to understand is that everyone is different, and there isn't a one size fits all in terms of law of assumption, pure consciousness, etc.. with pure consciousness, i've mentioned before that there are many ways to induce pure consciousness. i personally promote the way how i induced it becuz after running away from an awake method for almost a year, i ended up inducing pure consciousness awake unintentionally multiple times in a row. but that's me personally. i thought to myself that it might end up being the case for some others, so i felt the need to upload my experience.

however, i know a lot of y'all want to manifest your dream lives before 2025 arrive, but one thing you have to know is that YOU will induce pure consciousness someway or the other. whether it is that you do an awake method, a sleep method, wbtb, etc., you will induce pure consciousness.

everyone is different. it have persons who can't focus on anything for longer than 5 mins, and it have people who can focus on one thing for more than 3 hours. it have persons who can stay still for a long period of time, and it have persons who can't stay still for more than 2 minutes. it has people who can easily lose themselves in their daydreams and inner monolog, and it has people who can't. ofc, all of these are circumstances assumptions (that people aren't willing to change), which also means that you have to find something that's most suitable for you!

cuz at the end of the day, it's your dream life that you want the most! inducing pure consciousness is second.

so as i said, there are countless ways to induce pure consciousness. you have:

assuming/manifesting/thinking as if

robotic affirming

askfirmations

meditation

theta state meditation

alpha state meditation

breathwork

wbtb

lucid dreaming

hypnosis

psych-k

subliminals

silva centering method

(and you can find more methods on @voidarchivefiles)

ig seeing people panic in my inbox pretty much changed my heart a lot, cuz i realised that it's not just about inducing pure consciousness, it's about experiencing your desired life in this physical world which matters most to y'all. i know i can be mean at times, but it can be quite frustrating repeating answers over and over, but i know y'all meant it light-heartedly.

from now on, we're going to go put our best foot forward and manifest our dream lives! i'll do my best to provide the best resources for you guys to help y'all, cuz at the end of the day, there's tht ultimate goal y'all have, and i felt like i've been a bit too mean and dismissive at times. my apologies 😭🩷🩷. i still have my boundaries set, but ik y'all just want help.

so guys, YOU got this! and i know you will have that df, db, sp, dream car, dream house, etc. materialised in the physical plane.

looking forward to helping you all! 🩷🎀

[softestqueeen]

jingle bells

pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

summary: you surprise your boyfriend, spencer reid, with something very special for christmas.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, no foreplay, kissing, pet names (angel, baby), unprotected sex (guys, don't do that unless it's with spencer reid)

wordcount: 1273 words

a/n: so this is inspired by a real pair of victorias secret panties that I saw on tiktok a while ago. i wanted to find a picture or something but couldn't for some reason and now i think it might all have been a figment of my imagination. but who cares, you're here for the smut, i know. i hope you like this christmas fic, even though it is a lil late. enjoy <3

Your boyfriend, Spencer, loved Christmas. Every year he went all out on decorations, listening to Christmas music the second it turned November and reading Christmas stories. Even if Halloween definitely was his favourite holiday, Christmas is a close second.

So, this year you wanted to surprise him with something special. This December was laced with back-to-back cases and even though you two shared a flat, you didn’t see each other a lot. But Christmas rarely came with any cases, so you knew that you would be unbothered, which was perfect for your plan.

You didn’t just surprise him with anything, no, you wanted to surprise him with you. And even though all his other presents were already wrapped and under the tree there was one present (you) that he got to open early. A few weeks ago, when you were shopping for Spencer’s other gifts, you walked by a Victoria’s Secret and in the display, you saw something you knew your boyfriend would love.

A pair of sheer lace panties, adorned at the sides with little bells that made a cute little sound when moved and a matching sheer babydoll top. You knew you had to get this as a little surprise to sweeten up the time leading up to the holiday. And even though, due to Spencer’s tight schedule, you had to move it to actual Christmas, you had to move it onto the actual holiday, you knew he would love it.

So, after Spencer came home on the 23rd of December, you knew what you had to do.

As always, you greeted the profiler with a kiss at the door, helping him out of his coat and asking him about the case. He never gave you too many details, but you still liked hearing about what he was up to. Then you told him to get himself comfortable in the bedroom, as it was already a little later, and disappeared into the bathroom. You already prepared everything and now just had to get changed.

Trying your best not to be too loud with the jingling panties, you put the matching set on and covered it with a robe. You fixed your hair, even though you knew Spencer wouldn’t care much about it once he saw your outfit.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, immediately pulling Spencer’s attention away from the books he was reading. He slowly dropped it into his lap, his jaw almost going the same path, when you opened your robe, revealing the lingerie underneath. You slowly let the robe fall off before moving your hips a bit, making the bells jingle.

That seemed to snap your boyfriend out of his stunned silence. He hastily put the book on the nightstand before clearing his throat. “Wow,” was the only thing he got out for a second, “you, uhm- you look amazing, angel.”

“Thank you, Spence,” now walking closer to the bed you could see the blush painting his cheeks. Every movement made the bells clatter, his eyes now moving to your hips. Once you were standing next to him on the bed, he took a hold of them and pulled you onto his hips, your lips finally meeting.

Spencer usually liked to take things slow, but you could feel the urgency in this kiss, all the frustration from not seeing each other now finally releasing. You started to slowly grind against him, already feeling his erection against your pussy.

His hands wander from your hips under your top and onto your soft breasts. When you let out a surprised moan he slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

It doesn’t take long for him to get impatient and take off your top, leaving you only in your panties. Before you could get up to take them off though, Spencer stopped you. “Please keep them on, angel. Want to hear them.”

That was all he said before attacking your neck with wet kisses, trailing down to your collarbone and to your chest. Before he could take his kisses any further, he pulled away.

He placed a quick peck on your lips, before taking your hips in his hands. “I need you to get on your knees for me, please baby.” Oh, when he called you baby like that you knew he was desperate.

“Anything for you, spence.” you told him before returning the favour and placing a long kiss on his lips.

You then moved off his lap, positioning yourself on the bed, so you were leaning your head on your arms, your ass in the air. The pillows under your arms lifted you a bit and you could comfortably turn your head and watch your boyfriend undress. He was already in his pyjamas, so he didn’t take long.

Then he moved behind you, grabbing your ass in his large hands, slowly spreading you apart for him. You wiggled your hips, making the bells jingle again. Ah, so that was why Spencer wanted you in this position.

He gently pulled your panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. The moment he told you to get on your knees you knew he wasn’t in the mood for any foreplay today and to be honest, neither were you. You had been apart for so long that it didn’t surprise you when you felt Spencer’s throbbing length gliding through your folds.

Every time his tip rubbed against your hole, you couldn’t help but moan, quiet pleas for more leaving your lips. Spencer complied, his tip now prodding at your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of your hole, giving you both time to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer loved the way your warm walls gripped his cock, and you loved how you could feel ever ridge of him against you. Once his hips were flush to your ass, he let one of his hands wander over your back, the gentle touch making goosebumps form all over your body.

After a moment he pulled out almost completely before burying himself inside of you again, the movement triggered the bells, quiet ringing accompanying the sound of skin hitting skin. Spencer continued his movements, slowly speeding up, obsessed with the noises of you and your panties.

The sound of the bells seemed to spur him on, his breath getting almost erratic while he was driving himself in and out of you. His grip moved to your waist as to not silence the noise of the bells.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and the calls of his name whinier.

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m so close,” your voice was breathy, but you knew he heard you when he only increased the speed of his thrusts.

“I’m close too baby. Come with me, please. I need you.”

It didn’t take more for you. With a shout of his name you came, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your whole body trembled as you felt Spencer’s cock twitch and release inside of you. His thrust came to a stop, and he slowly let himself lay on top of you, his front connecting to your back.

He pressed his lips to yours, before pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, but Spencer is quick to place another kiss on your lips and wrap his arms around you, pulling you close.

“That was amazing, angel. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Spencer. Merry Christmas.”

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

[cthulhus-curse]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: Age Difference, Alluded CSA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Hopefully I scheduled this & the other fics correctly and not for the following year because I may no longer be around to fix it.

Summary: A series of snapshots of loving months alongside your professor which lead up to one of the most difficult decisions you’ve made in your life.

“Good morning, sunshine. Ready for another day of work?”

Although exhaustion ripped through your body, the sound of the woman’s voice made you smile. You learned to enjoy it through the past few weeks. Each day you woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn and went straight to work. Although it was right on campus, an office not too far from your dormitory, you weren’t used to being awake at such early hours. At least the pay was good and your boss was even better, you mused. 

“I can’t wait,” you replied flatly. Your boss, Professor Romanoff, came up to the desk you called a home ever since being hired. She held up two cups – one was her usual morning coffee and the other scalding hot chocolate topped off by a mountain of whipped cream. As always, she called you a child for picking that over anything caffeine-heavy. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Gotta keep my little assistant awake enough to get through the day,” Natasha chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be heavy for you. We just have to get through grading some papers and then the rest of the shift is yours.”

The smirk remained plastered over your features as she handed you the hot chocolate before moving further in her office. Being the head of the English department at your university, Natasha got her privacy intact. It’s not like she was thrilled to work with her fellow professors anyway. 

“I heard there was a big party being hosted by your friends in the girl’s soccer team. I assume you’re planning on going?” Natasha’s tone was filled with curiosity, but never anger when she so much as alluded to your private life, specifically that having to do with one Wanda Maximoff. “I can let you go a few hours early if you need to get ready. Classes are done for the semester and you need to enjoy your college years. I’m sure Miss Maximoff would be happy to see you again. I know she means a lot to you.”

Ever since you had accepted the job as Natasha’s assistant, Wanda had given you the cold shoulder. You had spoken to her from time to time, but only when she came back to the dorm after days of being away, only to leave once again. At first you blame yourself for causing a rift in your relationship, if one could even call it that, but eventually you came to realize just how immature she was – taking a simple job offer did not mean your feelings for her changed in any way. 

“I actually haven’t seen her in awhile. She’s staying at Carol and Val’s place I think,” you shrugged while taking a sip of your drink. The way it burned its way onto your tongue and down your throat caused you to hum happily. 

“Oh? And how are you feeling about that?”

“I’m taking it pretty well. You know she’s not very fond of you and I think I pissed her off by agreeing to work for who she deems as ��a fucking witch bitch’. It’s just childish and stupid,” you rolled your eyes at the mere idea of it. “I hate being someone’s second choice like that. She doesn’t even see how much I love her.”

Just like Wanda didn’t see you, you didn’t see Natasha. Your professor was crestfallen at the voices you threw at her. She hated seeing you in such pain, not being able to do anything about the mistreatment you received from your casual fling. The older woman cared for you, perhaps more than she led on – the mere image of seeing you in pain made bile rise up your throat before it was maintained in place. 

“Then it’s her loss. You deserve better than that, honey. You’re an amazing, beautiful, and smart woman. You don’t need to be sitting around waiting for someone to notice you. If she doesn’t like you the same way you like her, then it’s time to move on,” Natasha explained as she attempted to keep her own emotions at bay. She threw a sympathetic look your way even if you didn’t notice it. “Listen Y/N, I know we aren’t as close as you are with Miss Maximoff, but I care about you. You are by far my brightest student yet and I see so much potential in you. You don’t deserve to be thrown around like trash, only used when she gets bored with someone else. You deserve the world.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that?”

The ‘me’ went unspoken from Natasha. She simply sagged her head and stared down at the mountain of paperwork laying in her desk. It would be to no avail if she decided to work – with a brain oozing with thoughts of you, her focus disrupted. 

“How about we try something different today? We can work for a bit and then I can take you out for lunch. My treat,” Natasha said. “How does that sound? I just hate seeing you like this, sweetie.”

You thought about it for a second. There was something awfully safe about Natasha. As much as you wished to spend countless hours obsessing over Wanda, sometimes you found yourself humoring the idea of your professor. She was sweet, always protective as she huffed at the idea of you being hurt. At first you assumed it was some sort of motherly instinct, but after having caught yourself staring down her cleavage from time to time, the top buttons of her blouse always open, and she stared back with a smile, you knew something much more intimate lay beneath. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, suddenly drunk on Natasha’s presence as Wanda was left behind. 

“Good! Now time to work, hon. You don’t get paid to sit all day and look pretty,” the redhead chuckled at her own joke, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “If you finish quickly, maybe we can grab some dessert as well.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A shudder ran down your body as hands traveled across your back. Fingernails left heavy trails in their wake, surely to be worn with the utmost pride. You hummed, eyes closed while holding still, standing there naked as the day you were born. In the dusk of the room, you let yourself be the center of attention; the center of her attention. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked from behind. Her mouth was quickly upon your upper back, kissing its way along your shoulder blades. Never did she lose her tenderness when touching you. “Tell me, darling girl. Use your words.”

You didn’t know when it had begun. One day you were at work standing in front of your boss’s desk before you became trapped against it. The first time Natasha kissed you was then and there. Neither could hold back the attraction you shared for one another. No longer did you prioritize Wanda as you allowed your professor to take you. 

“I found her sleeping with Kate. She was…she was laying in my bed, Nat. I saw them and just ran away. She fucked her in my bed!” You sobbed, but didn’t allow yourself to shed tears. Not long before you had promised yourself never to cry over Wanda again. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I just thought of you and ran.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I hate that she keeps hurting you,” Natasha mumbled back as she hugged you from behind. “Don’t you dare run away this late at night again. You know how much I worry about you. I’m just a phone call away, malyshka. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded before biting down on your lip. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. Your good girl, right?”

“Darling, you are always my good girl.”

Natasha motioned you to get on the bed, your head against a pillow as your ass remained up in the air. She allowed her hands to roam over your backside, smirking as a hand went down against a cheek. It was only a soft hit. Never did Natasha wish to inflict any horrid pain over you. As her eyes noticed the faint bruises Wanda left along your skin, she huffed. 

The redhead stood over you. She carried a dildo between her legs that was attached to a harness. Similar to you, she was fully nude minus for the red briefs she wore. Strong arms reeking with muscles held you close. As she inched the toy between your legs, you let out a loud moan. 

“I don’t like how she hurts you. I know you like it, Y/N, but she leaves you looking like a piece of meat. Does she even take care of your wounds, baby? Or does she leave you like that after hitting you until you’re crying out for her to stop?” Natasha questioned, already knowing what the answer was. Ever since first seeing your body, she was the one who took care of you as a surrogate for Wanda. “I know I can’t control what you do, but honey, this isn’t right. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Rather than vocalize your response, you hid your face against the pillow. Natasha slid inside you softly, allowing the dildo to fill you with ease. There was a grunt that you basked upon – it was low and throaty filled with your professor’s longing desire. She used all her force to drag you into a makeshift sitting position. From then on, Natasha allowed herself to, only gently, give you the pleasure Wanda failed to gift you with. 

“I want more,” you begged, eyes rolled to the back of your head the further Nat moved inside of you. Movements were languid and sloppy. All the older woman focused on was your own pleasure, not speed or roughness. Unlike Wanda, she took her time getting to know exactly what to do and how to touch you. “Please, mommy, I need more!”

“Whatever you want, my little angel.”

Natasha did not spend time rummaging through the newfound honorific. She beamed at it, but didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she thrust her hips forth fucking you with love that Wanda never gave you. Kisses were spread all across your back. Each grunt, each little noise she made mixed with your own, made you feel in heaven. 

Hands gripped your breasts from behind. They squeezed the mounds tightly, rolling erect nipples through the fingers. As Natasha pumped the strap-on in you, your cunt dripping with juices while velvety walls hugged her tight, she brought a hand down your body. Fingertips pressed against your clit and began teasing it, flicking the bud as you screamed loudly – surely her neighbors would hear. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how you’re taking my cock. My pretty, little girl,” Natasha moaned when hugging you tight. She nuzzled her face against your shoulder before nipping your skin. There were various hickeys left upon you, signs for Wanda to see if you ever dared return to her. Natasha knew you weren’t hers, but each second she spent with you made her crave you even more. “I bet she can’t fuck you like this, can she? That little…she can’t make you feel this good. Only I can make it better. I’m the only one that will ever keep you safe and you know this.”

When you finally came, Natasha was there to keep you close. She remained frozen in place as your orgasm shot through your body. Not even a second passed before she inched you on the bed, allowing you to rest upon the soft mattress with the dildo still inside you. 

“I never want to see you hurt again. If she ever does this to you, if you end up going back, I want you to call me when you need me. I never break a promise,” Natahsa muttered as she placed a kiss over the back of your head. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

From then on, you found yourself hesitating each time you merely humored the idea of going back to Wanda. Even if you told yourself that the relationship with Natasha was nothing more than platonic, you questioned the validity of such a statement. Every second you spend with her, you fall further for your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Tell me about your family.”

The two of you had escaped the cruel Bostonian summer filled with never-ending traffic and burning skyscrapers. It was the dead-center of the season and the entire city was plagued by a mix of potential commuters for the various academic institutions or those who, for some reason, decided for it to be her vacation destination.

Natasha had taken you away to a small town across the state. It was remote, small enough so that the two of you could enjoy your life in public without the student body of the university to find you. All you had done was pack all the bags you could muster for the weekend getaway. It was peace which became well-deserved. 

You weren’t much of a fan of them, but Nat had always spoken highly of the times she took her sister to pick out peaches ever since she first learned how to drive. The two of them would escape into an orchard in the depths of Ohio and come out with their hands full with fruits. The mere memory she shared with you was enough to get you to agree to her plans. 

“Well, there’s really not much to talk about. I was adopted by Melina and Alexei,” Natasha began as though it was the most casual thing in the world to refer to her parents by their given names. “I have a sister, also adopted, named Yelena. She’s the light of my life. A bit of an asshole I must say, but she’s the one I care about most.”

“Yelena Belova? That’s your sister?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows; it was a name similar to that of a member of Wanda’s team. 

“Yes. I realize she’s friends with Miss Maximoff,” Natasha replied with apparent dismay. “As hard as I’ve tried to keep her away from that girl, the two are almost inseparable. I trust her enough to not do anything overly stupid though. Lena has always been a bit of a firecracker.”

The two of you walked hand in hand along the orchard. There was not a label to whatever you had yet, but it didn’t care. Natasha was clear when she said she would never pressure you into it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be a free agent who, at times, found yourself wishing to have something more with your professor. 

Eyes roamed over the woman’s body. Usually you saw her in professional clothes or the occasional nightgown when you stayed over at her place, but never with a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. There were sunglasses shielding Natasha’s viridescent eyes from the sun, but you had looked into them for long enough to memorize their beauty. 

You noticed how she covered her body from time to time, hands over her thighs, cowering away from the nonexistent public that dared gawk in her general direction. It hurt to see. She was the perfect image of beauty to you, but a disgusting void to herself. 

There were rare moments in which Natasha allowed you to touch her. She was a fan of studying each and every one of your favorite sweet spots, running hands across your skin before making you giggle under the drunkenness of arousal. The few times you had placed your palms upon her frame you did so in a tender manner – Nat was a porcelain doll under your touch who could break at any seconds. It merely lasted a few seconds before she pushed you off and rushed to apologize for acting out, only for you to shoot her a warm smirk and tell her there was nothing wrong with that. 

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present and carried on. 

“Yeah, your sister’s always been nice to me though. She’s not as close with Wanda if that makes you feel better. I’ve mostly seen her chasing around that Kate girl. Maybe it’s an underclassmen thing,” you shrugged. “What about your parents?”

There was a pregnant pause, clear hesitation, before Natasha continued.

“Well, I never met my biological family nor did I care about seeking them out. My mom has always been amazing,” Natasha stopped for a second, her hands gliding across the peaches that she carefully eyed. “My father…not so much.”

“Why do you refer to her as mom and him as father?” came your question before you could help yourself.

It was clear her demeanor had changed. Natasha stood with her back straight, hands clasped in front of her as a means to shield herself. She only stared forth into nothingness. Her body was with you in the orchard while her mind went back to when she was a child – to when she was alone with him. 

“It makes it less personal,” she finally answered. “It’s also easier than calling him ‘the man whose wife wanted to adopt two kids he never wanted’ and then turned my childhood to shit. I grew up way too fast because of that…that durak!”

The yelp she let out was fueled with emotions you had yet to see. Natasha was rarely angry, let alone emotionally vulnerable to let you peek through her walls. Her body sagged after fighting so long being tense. You could see tears rushing down her face even with sunglasses that covered them, but knew not to make a comment.

“Nat, has he ever…?”

You didn’t want to humor such a thing. Even then, you already knew the answer given her body language and unspoken words. While you fought with the idea of potentially driving to her father’s house and beating him to a pulp, Natasha found herself glad it had been her over Yelena. If something were to happen to her sister, she would never forgive herself. Each time he came at night, the woman sacrificed herself. It was a small price to pay for her beloved sibling’s safety. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, baby,” Natasha said with a cracked voice, turning the other way to move further into the orchard. You gave her space knowing that whenever she felt comfortable enough to talk, she would. All you could do was follow along as the professor whispered again. “I’m sorry.”

But behind her broken tone, deep down, you could hear a younger Nat’s faint cry of ‘yes’. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There were moments in which exhaustion overtook you during long tedious days. You could barely move a muscle and still feel as though life had been sucked out of you. Most of your summer was spent chasing around Natasha, who you remained working for throughout the following months with little to no workload. Being around the woman, doing mere iced coffee runs and chatting without a care in the world while in the office made you feel free for once in a lifetime – for the first time since you met Wanda, she was an afterthought. 

Natasha was quick to jump in and take care of you through those moments. She always acted out in small, loving ways when paying for your food, giving you rides, or merely holding your hand as the two of you walked into your next adventure. Her desperation to hold you in her arms and promise you all would be well was intense. There was love radiating from her a mile away which you were far too shortsighted to see. 

“Tell me what you need, malyshka. Come on, little darling, use your words.”

After a particularly difficult day, you found yourself safe in Natasha’s lap. There had been no overexertion of your being during that day. It had mostly been relaxing as you worked alongside your professor on a Friday, but when you received a call from Wanda midday, the woman asking you to meet up, you merely froze and broke down in the office – your ‘friend’ only reached out when she needed something from you and it had been nearly a month since you last spoke amicably. After you only hummed as a reply and ended the call, Natasha was there to break your fall. 

“Mommy’s here for you. I know today has been a really difficult day and that you’ve felt really stressed, but I don’t want you focusing on those icky thoughts. I just wish she didn’t hurt you like this,” came the older woman’s whisper as she pulled you close. The two of you had rushed out of the office even hours before Natasha liked calling it quits. Even as behind as she was with her future lesson planning, she still prioritized you before anything else. “Use your words, detka. Tell mommy how she can help.”

“I don’t even want to think,” you flatly mumbled with tears threatening to fall down your eyes. Hands gripped the professor’s clothes while your forehead lay frozen in her shoulder. With arms wrapped around your body you finally felt safe. “Please help me forget, Nat. I never want to think about her again. I just-” your words were cut short by a short while your voice was left cracked. 

“Shh it’s alright, my darling girl. Mommy’s here to make it all better.”

While holding you tight, Natasha allowed a hand to slip down your body. It snuck to your lap then between your legs. No teasing was found – she knew you how overwhelmed you were and was ready to give you whatever you wished for without question. When naked fingers went past the waistline of your sweats and underwear, landing upon your already throbbing sex, you couldn’t hold back a throaty moan. 

You quickly realized Natasha wanted to separate herself from the man who agreed to adopt her. He was rough, violent, and torturous much like how she saw Wanda, whereas your professor never failed to bring a smile to your face even as she smacked your backside harshly — she always soothed the skin with the palm of her hand before carrying on. She wanted, no, needed to break away from his grasp over her mind. Otherwise she’d end up as a battered slave of his once again. 

Fingertips brushed against your clit then studied the entirety of your slit while coating themselves in your everlasting slick. Natasha peppered your wet cheeks, filled with desolate tears, with kisses. She mumbled only the sweetest words while easing herself in you. You cried out about your sorrows, about Wanda’s mistreatment over you, while the older woman simply sat there and held you through it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone who dares make you feel this bad is an idiot. Y/N, my love, you deserve the world,” Natasha said lovingly. She nuzzled her face against your own, foreheads pressed together with fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt. You couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to grind on them. Instead, you remained shaking as Natasha made it all better. “You never let yourself be treated like that by anyone, alright? Whether it’s Miss Maximoff or me, or anyone else. My darling angel should be treated as the princess she is. You’re one of a kind, honey, a perfect little bear. I never want you to forget just how valuable your existence is.”

Tears of joy were mixed with your gloomy ones. There were cries of pleasure and internal pain that Natasha never stopped supporting you through. She allowed her lips to touch down upon your own. With your orgasm approaching soon and her tender care, you were elated. 

“My sweet baby,” came Natasha’s hushed whisper. She made you come, your back arching while fingernails dug deep into the redhead’s outfit. There was a loud moan, though distant, that boomed across the room. Even as you fell apart, strong arms held you in place. Such a wondrous creature such as yourself, according to your boss, deserved to see the stars. “You did such a good job for mommy. Always my perfect girl,” she breathed out with fingers still deep inside you. “All mine.”

You swore there was a muttered ‘I love you’ thrown somewhere, but with the mix of mental and physical exhaustion raining down upon your body, you merely shrugged your shoulders and fell limp against Natasha. Although you wouldn’t admit it, your heart longed to say the words back – out of everyone in your life, you never expected to fall into the depths of love with your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I don’t know why you like this show so much. It’s just senseless killing and at the end they solve everything and go home.”

Although it was supposed to be a relaxing weekend towards the start of the Fall semester, you found the mind boggling statement to fill you with feigned rage. Even as classes began, the arrangement between you and the professor carried on. You still worked for her even if there were no classes in said semester you took with you. As disappointing as that was, you began seeing more of Natasha regardless in more ways than one. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch late one Friday night. You were exhausted with your course load and Natasha cursed off the new freshmen she had to teach; they always pretended to still be in high school. A bowl of popcorn was nestled between your legs. While you watched Criminal Minds, Natasha settled for insulting it. 

“It’s fun, Romanoff. Entertaining at the very least.” you shot back with a knowing smirk. You had been the one to introduce her to various shows. Who would’ve thought that the great Professor Romanoff was living underneath a rock her whole life? 

“Wow I’ve been demoted from mommy to Romanoff. That’s sad,” Natasha laughed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Probably Rossi,” came your shrug. “He’s the guy with the beard.”

“Really?” At the surprised tone your lover let out, you feigned offense. “I thought you’d like one of the girls. What about that brunette with the bangs?”

“Oh, Emily left for the Interpol. I would like JJ, but I don’t know. There’s just something cool about Rossi in this season.”

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds. It wasn't awkward, but then again, nothing was with Natasha by your side. Even if you slipped and fell in front of her, you wouldn’t feel embarrassed. The woman never judged you, instead supporting your every decision while also guiding you through life. You felt comfortable enough with her to be yourself. At times it felt as though it was you and Nat against the world. 

“Maybe you just have daddy issues,” Natasha casually offered. Moment passed before the two of you burst out laughing. Tears sprinkled in your eyes while your breath left your body. With the amusement that basked in the room, you both were giggling messes. 

“Hey!” you huffed when gaining some of your composure back and lightly slapping Natasha’s shoulder. “We both have daddy issues.”

“Fine, but I have more than you. Mostly because I’ve never actually met my real dad. Maybe he’s an asshole like Alexei,” Natasha giggled. She never failed to look radiant as ever, especially when laughing and seemingly worry-free. You had to do several double takes because the beauty that exuded from your professor was far too enthralling to break away from. As the laughter died down and you were left holding one another, her head on your shoulder while you leaned back against the couch, she spoke. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

You had both agreed to keep things unofficial and yet there was that unmistakable skip of a beat your heart underwent when Natasha spoke her words. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip nervously. There were striking green eyes which made it difficult for you to ignore the pegged comment. While your heart longed you to reply with a ‘yes’, to finally be Natasha’s forever, your mouth reacted differently. 

For the rest of the evening the two of you sat by and finished watching the show. Natasha was silent as she ghosted over her house, leaving you alone in the living room before hiding out in her bedroom. It was the first night in months that you slept in the guest room by yourself. And to your dismay, you went to sleep listening to Natasha’s quiet sobs that escaped the privacy of her bedroom. You had felt bad for Wanda when she got sad about you seeing your professor casually, but listening to the redhead’s woes was synonymous with your heart being squeezed to death. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

It was October when you fell in love. 

You returned to your dorm room days later behind the guise of assuming Natasha wished for you to be far away. She had barely spoken a word to you at work. Most of the time she sat by her desk with sagged shoulders, glasses perched at the edge of her nose, and glossy eyes hiding behind the frames. You desperately wished to say something, but when Wanda sweeped back into your life, the guilt ate at you until nothing was left behind. 

The Fall semester quickly rolled by. You were at the end of the month and still couldn’t sleep without seeing Natasha’s face tainted in your mind. At times when Wanda lay above you, hips thrusting with straps wrapped around them and letting out low grunts, you closed your eyes and imagined it was the older woman. The memories of her doing the same were soaked with humiliation. You had broken her heart, you knew. Never would you dare forgive yourself for having caused so much pain upon the frail, angelic woman. 

“I hate her so much,” Wanda had grumbled when you walked through campus hand-in-hand passing by a certain professor whose sight was solemnly trained on the floor. Your hand was squeezed as your eyes drifted to Natasha. As much as she seemingly hated you, all you wanted to do was run up to her, wrap her in your arms, and bed for forgiveness. Even if it would take ages, she was worth it. “Fucking bitch.”

Perhaps it was Wanda’s comment or the fact that you finally gained enough confidence through your depressive episode to take action, but that night you found yourself standing in front of Natasha’s house. Your roommate was long forgotten and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t care less about who she was fucking. All that mattered was the woman you, without admitting it, had fallen for. 

There was a desperate knock upon the hardwood door. There was furious rain which fell down upon your body. That along with the cool breeze of the night made you freeze in place. Still, you felt as though you deserved it. Even then, you’d do whatever it took for Natasha. 

“It’s 10pm on a Wednesday, Y/N. Someone better be dying,” were the first words Natasha spoke to you once the door swung open in a low grumbled voice you knew to be from when she awoke. “To what do I owe the displeasure? Did you come here to tell me how great Miss Maximoff is compared to-”

You cut her off by practically tackling Natasha into the house. Even if your body was dripping with the tears of the sky, you clung to the woman as though your life depended on it. She was clearly taken aback and yet never moved away. Instead her arms were left unmoving as you embraced her. That was good enough for you, you assumed. 

Putting your heart on the line has never been easy. You were the person who shoved her emotions so deep down that you somehow told yourself Wanda was the one for you. Although she hurt you so much, you still remained by her side. It wasn’t difficult to assume Natasha had felt something similar when you rejected her. She had spent countless months giving you the utmost love and never daring to ask for anything in return. You were always protected by her mere presence until one day you decided to throw it all away. Going to her house, you were without hope of being taken back. There was slight hesitation reeking in your chest, but as soon as you saw your former lover, you swore you fell for her once again – she would forever be worth it. 

“I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot and I admit it. I should’ve said yes to you,” you began. Life had been tedious without Natasha even if only for a few weeks. You hated how only a cold slap in the face in the shape of one Wanda Maximoff could awaken you from such a dismal nightmare. “I hurt you so badly and I never, ever expect for you to take me back. I was an asshole. A svo-lach' if you will,” you could practically feel Natasha’s slight smirk at the mention of a Russian word she had taught you. “I miss you and I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s probably stupid since we weren’t with each other for ages. It wasn’t official and yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s always been you, Nat and it always will be.”

No words were spoken as the door was locked and you were dragged to the bedroom. Even if dripping with water, Natasha helped undress you. She threw you against the bed, viridescent eyes twinkling under the dead of the night before taking her rightful position over your body. There was not an area of your freezing body that she didn’t kiss her way through as sudden warmth radiated from her skin and onto yours. 

When you first kissed her after weeks of being away, you swore there were fireworks going off. Never had kissing Wanda felt even remotely good or similar. You were enthralled by the way Natasha was seemingly everywhere. Her hands drifted up your body before taking your breasts into her palms and squeezing them, nipples rolling through her fingers before being pinched – she did always have an adorable fixation on your chest. There was a sense of longing within her. The two of you hadn’t been together for far too long. During the rest of the night, you explored what was missed, holding one another as cries of pleasure were let out. 

Positions were switched from time to time. Natasha would be on top before you pushed her against the mattress and had your head disappear between her legs. There was nothing to be said. You two communicated through sweet and rough touches, connecting as one without the need for words. There was a moment when you made her squirt, legs shaking as your fingers were dug deep inside her cunt. Natasha was left wide-eyed and suddenly droopy while you lapped at the mess – even when a spent mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the universe. 

When neither of you could keep going it was already the early hours of the morning. Your bodies were sore and marked with the reddened tracks of fingernails. It was the first time in ages that you finally felt as though you belonged. Natasha was your person, she was safe, and she was home. It was then that you, while fingers trailed across the back of the woman’s hand, decided never to dare leave her again. 

“I love you,” she muttered once you were breathing raggedly, laying back on the bed with bodies intertwined and hearts aligned. You felt yourself crawl out of your skin, frowning as the words were spoken. Without even daring to turn around, you went to grab Natasha’s hand. When squeezing it, you gave her your response. 

You couldn’t say it out loud, but she knew then you loved her too.

[midnightfiction143]

love language hcs pt1

sfw, fluff, implied fem reader but not specified (do tell me if i accidentally use pronouns) second person, not proofread as usual

kinich

giving - acts of service

kinich isn't big on much touching or speaking, so sometimes people might think he comes across as cold or distant. instead, he'd rather show his affection for you through small acts everyday. from giving you his jacket when the nights in natlan get a bit chilly, to cooking you dinner on days when you come back from work exhausted, kinich helps out in subtle but gentle ways that take off some of your load. when he pulls out your chair for you when you're both at a restaurant, you guys get a lot of compliments (especially from old people) on what a gentleman he is.

receiving - quality time

when he's come back from a long day of running around completing commissions, all he wants to do is spend some time with you before he has to get back on the grind again. it doesn't matter if it's simple, mundane activities just like cooking a meal together or cuddling on the couch, as long as he gets to spend some time with you, he feels much more energized. plus, if you sneak in some physical touch, he won't mind (he secretly loves it)

kazuha

giving - physical touch

kazuha is a big sucker for all types physical touch - hand holding, kisses, hugs, cuddling - you name it. he thinks of it as "why shouldn't i express my love to my s/o whenever i can?" enjoys pda as well, but wouldnt go too far as to full on kissing for the respect for public. he just wants to make sure you feel loved at all times too!

receiving - physical touch

if your love language is also physical touch - you're in luck! he absolutely ADORES it when you initiate, even if you're a little bit shy at first. (especially if you're a bit shy at first - he's so proud that you're being brave and that he's rubbing off on you

of course, if it isn't, he'll still love you all the same but it won't stop him for giving you lots of physical touch too<3

scara

giving - acts of service

oh, our tsundere boy wouldn't actively show his love with words or physical touch (he deems it as stupid) but you can always feel his love when he does small acts. if you confront him about it, he'll try and reverse the act by saying something like "I didn't want to see you trip cause then I'd have to clean up after you" or just mutter "stupid" under his breath but the red on the tips of his ears and the fond barely-smile on his face gives it all away.

receiving - words of affirmation

although he might be a little bit shy at first, he desperately wants, no, needs to hear that you love him and promise that you won't "leave" him too. call it a little bit cringey, but it's true that his betrayals have left quite a big scar on him. when you hold his hands gently like they're about to break and whisper sweet affirmations into his ear, he just wants to kiss you right then and there (but of course he won't because he's a bit embarrassed to - it'll take a while for him to open up to you)

[niwaart]

Doctor! Male! Reader X Batfam ( part1, part2, part3, part4)

..............................................................................

A new day begins in Y/N's life, the day he waits for every month: his day off. As usual, Y/N takes advantage of this day to take a short walk in the public parks, where he enjoys a quiet atmosphere away from the noise of the hospital and the crowds of the city. He spends some time contemplating the beauty of nature, and interacting with the children he meets in the park, which highlights his cheerful and lovable personality. Before sunset, he heads to the toy store to buy gifts for the children in the hospital, a tradition he loves because it makes him happy when he sees their smiles.

As he exits the store loaded with bags, Y/N comes across a strange man standing on his motorcycle wearing a red helmet, looking at him intently. It was Jason Todd or Red Hood who came excited to learn more about his adoptive father's new eldest son, after hearing the story and making fun of Bruce in their secret hideout.

Red Hood with a sarcastic smile: "So, you're Bruce's second secret son? I must say... Bruce has a talent for surprises."

Y/N smiling and unaware of Jason's identity: "Huh? You know my dad? Weird, were you his classmate?"

Red Hood laughs out loud: "Classmate? Oh, that's good! No, no. I... let's just say I know him pretty well, and I probably know more about him than he knows about himself."

Y/N: "Sweet. Well, if you do know him, why don't you ask him directly? Because I don't have much to say about him. I hardly see him in the news."

Red Hood says with narrowed eyes: "You're interesting. But I've heard that you're funny, playful, and maybe... a little annoying. I'm just here to see what you're like, but I'll say this: you're a lot better than that demon kid."

Y/N: "Demon child? I don't understand half of what you're saying, but anyway, I think I'll go now. The kids are waiting for their presents. And take this for you, Red Tomato Head." Y/N pulls out a lollipop and hands it to Jason.

Red Hood looks at the lollipop in his hand in surprise, then laughs sarcastically and puts the lollipop in his jacket pocket. "Oh, I'll watch you for a while. Don't worry, I'm not dangerous... usually."

Y/N smiles sarcastically. "Watch as much as you want, but rest assured I won't be putting on a show."

Red Hood laughs and begins to follow Y/N from afar, observing his actions throughout the day, increasingly curious about why this young man chose to stay away from the limelight and fame despite being Bruce Wayne's son. But Red Hood's nature is that he didn't want to interfere directly like Damian did, and instead enjoyed watching him from afar.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

After a day full of relaxation, Y/N returns to the hospital at nightfall, tired but happy. He places the children's presents and bids them a goodnight before returning to his office. What Y/N didn't realize was that Red Hood wasn't the only one watching him, but there was someone else who was even more curious: Tim Drake, who had plans to gather all the information he could about his new big brother.

...............................................................................

So.... what do you think about this part and what will the next part talk about?🧐

@roxy776699

@missmannequin

@theultimatezazasniffer

[mlyscha]

𝒥𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 & 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌

( ENHYPEN ── 𝒻𝗼𝗿. 𝓜OMENTS. ) ౨ৎ ℐ𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . they make christmas gifts with their own hands (with you). 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 : fluff, festive. 𝓌𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! simple and resumed writing. ( 𝗐𝖼. 9OO ) 𝓮𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮' … 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋-𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 ༘ . 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

𝒶-𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. happy christmas everybody!! enjoy some time with your family, friends and beloved ones. i hope many many good things reach you! and if you don't celebrate christmas, i wish you a great day full of happiness! <3 and by the way, i am on a vacation so this might not be thaaaat good but try to enjoy this christmas headcanon i wrote with so much love.

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍! ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾&𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀&𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

𝒽eeseung ( 희승 )

YOU AND HEESEUNG WERE PLANNING to do something memorable this christmas, celebrating not just the presents, but love.

therefore, heeseung decided to craft essences with you and then trade perfumes. you had never heard of that kind of craft shop before, but it was pretty amusing.

it was cute watching him all cute listening to the instructions, making sure that your perfume was matching your vibe and how he liked it ─ of course.

in the end of the “class”, he gifted the perfume in a small white box, adorned with a loose pink ribbon─ because he couldn’t tie it right. meanwhile, you gifted his in a small black box adorned with a red ribbon. also, you could write a letter to yourself or your loved one, gifting love to the one you love. with that, he couldn’t hold himself but write: For this and lots more christmas, I love you forever, Heeseung.

𝒿ongseong ( 제이 )

JONGSEONG LOVES PAMPERING YOU WITH gifts, but this christmas, you told him you wanted to create memories: going to a fancy necklace craft shop.

the necklace shop offered crafting silver or gold jewellery that could last for life— meaning that it wasn’t supposed to get oxidised.

there was a plenty of fun ways to create your jewellery. therefore, you and jongseong decided to go for a digital print design with a simple note on the back.

you went for a gold piece because you thought it made your boyfriend’s skin and beauty pop, getting your digital print done and writing: Mine, yours, ours forever. meanwhile he wrote: I love you, thank you, forever— simple but meaningful, for sure.

𝒿aeyun ( 제이크 )

JAEYUN LOVES SPENDING TIME WITH you, and nothing better than gifting him quality time while crafting gifts for each other; for christmas. with that, you brought him to a pottery shop, hoping he would enjoy pottering like the last time— on valentine’s day.

and oh boy, jaeyun liked that. besides him looking at you in a certain way while carving the bottom of the pot with his hands, it was overall very amusing and cute.

in the end, after the pottery was completely dry, a beautiful painting could be created. and of course, jaeyun with his cheesiness problems, painted you and him with a christmas tree on the side, writing: christmas with bae! 12/25. ( y/n is the cutest <3 )

𝓈unghoon ( 성훈 )

SUNGHOON BROUGHT TO A RING crafting shop, because he thought: i want matching rings, ‘cause— pffftt… just one couple ring isn’t enough!

with that, you two went to a fancy ring crafting shop from a luxury jewellery brand. you both went for the silver ring— since it is a dating ring —and then added each others initials in a tiny font (to keep it more discreet and elegant); and then wrote on the side of the hoop the date and a little note: Forever our love, forever us.

and by the way, sunghoon while crafting this ring with you, couldn’t be more excited to one day make this a big surprise, asking you to be his fiancé.

𝓈unoo ( 선우 )

SUNOO IS A SOFTIE FOR handmade things, always writing a letter for you besides the present he is giving to you. and this time, for christmas, he decided to buy a bracelet kit— in which you could create your own bracelet.

you were so excited because it reminded you of your childhood and now you are complementing this memory with your loved one.

after many laughter, smooches and enthusiasm, you both finished and gave it to each other. both of you tried to match each others vibe, and it was successful!

sunoo loved the bracelet you made for him and you absolutely loved what he design for you, focusing on your name formed by the beads he carefully placed one by one. this is the proof christmas is more than presents, but about moments and simplicity.

𝒿ungwon ( 정원 )

JUNGWON REALLY WANTED SOMETHING MEANINGFUL and beautiful to gift for you for christmas.

his idea was lovely: bring you to necklace shop in which they take a very close-upped picture of each other’s iris and turn it into a beautiful memory that can be hanged around your neck.

you found the idea pretty amusing and beautiful once you heard about he’s plans, so he counted your amusement and brought you to the crafting shop— a fancy place, by the way.

you could choose between silver and gold jewellery and you matched his choice. overall, the picture came out really pretty and the necklace is kept around jungwon’s neck forever since; saying he is bringing a piece of you with him everywhere.

𝓇iki ( 니키 )

RIKI WANTED TO GIVE YOU something useful but at the same time meaningful. thinking like that, he decided to personalise a hoodie that at the same time matched his— couple like outfit.

so he took you to this cosy personalisation crafting shop and asked them to personalise a hoodie, describing what he wanted to write and the vision he was going for; letting the shop take it on their own hands to design it.

however, riki precisely asked to be the one painting it— with you, of course.

in the end, the hoodies came out so cute and a memorable moment was created. the design matched christmas and each other, but at the same time it looked kind of romantic and soft.

and of course, can’t forget about a specific part of the design in which his hoodie says: I love christmas. and yours said: I am christmas!

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆ 24.

[spiderb00]

IS IT NEW YEARS YET

Megan Skiendiel X Reader

"After your ex broke up with you a month before Christmas, you lost your holiday mojo. Maybe you just needed to meet new people, a specific redheaded girl” 

Genre – fluff   Warnings – none  fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – Is it new years yet, by Sabrina Carpenter 

The feeling of impostor settled in you, as soon as you passed through the door of Lara's house you felt uncomfortable, strange with the environment. Being without the company of your ex girlfriend at parties like this made you feel awkward and out of place. You were never a very sociable person, of course, you were never rude, you just didn't like to leave the house so much. Whether you wanted to or not, your ex had helped with your shyness, always dragging you everywhere, but now, without her, you felt a little lost in the midst of people.  

Lara was throwing a party, a small meeting. The commemorative dates were approaching and any excuse for a party was enough for Lara. You and the Indian girl knew each other for a long time, even before she went to Dream Academy, or bonded as Katseye's lead vocalist. Your friendship with Lara has always been strong, you have always supported the girl in everything, while she did the same with you.   

When Lara found out about your breakup, she comforted and supported you, as always. She let you have your sad moment, but after a month, the girl did everything to take your mind off the girl who broke your heart before Christmas. When Lara called you to the party, you quickly tried to refuse, making up any excuse not to leave the house. But, when you saw that the red-haired girl wasn't going to give up, you agreed to go.  

And now here you are, a plastic cup with energy drink in your right hand, as you sit in one of the chairs outside Lara's house. You knew most of the people at the party, all mutual friends of yours and Lara's, but after a while of talking and laughing, you decided it was time to be alone for a while, just you and your thoughts. Taking the lighter out of your back pocket, you were about to light a cigarette – one of the habits you picked up after the breakup – when someone approached you.   

"Hi, do you mind if I sit down? There's a lot of noise inside." Asked a girl, she had red hair and was tall, not as tall as you.  

"No, okay, go ahead." You said, putting away the cigarette and lighter before settling back into the chair.   

Looking at the girl better, you could finally tell why she looked so familiar. It was Megan, Lara's bandmate. You haven't met all the Kats yet, but you surely recognize them from promotional videos, music videos, and in general. You thought the Chinese girl was beautiful, and you didn't think she could be even more beautiful in person. 

"I'm Megan." The red-haired girl said, a faint smile on her face as she waited for you to introduce yourself.   

"I know, I mean, I recognized you. I am Yn." You said, fumbling a little with the words. 

"Oh, sure. You are Lara's best friend. She talks a lot about you." Megan says. "It's good to finally put a face to the name."   

Laughing lightly, you nod. The night was quiet and although you wanted to be alone, the redhead's company was not bad.   

"So why are you out here instead of enjoying the party inside?" The redhead asks, settling in the chair and looking directly at your face.  

"Well, I could ask you the same question..." You say, making the girl laugh lightly. "Well, but I'm just here to clear my mind, you know."  

"Oh, I get it, a lot of people also make me a little overstimulated." Megan says, nodding in understanding.   

"Really?" You ask, the conversation flowing naturally. "How do you work? Why, you know... You kind of have to deal with a lot of people. Sorry if this is invasive..." You say, genuinely interested in Megan's words.  

"It's not invasive." The girl says, laughing lightly at your concern. "I think I just got used to it, I love what I do, so it kind of becomes natural after a few years." She says, fiddling with the rings that were on her hand. "But I always have time for myself, and it's always nice to have someone who's always with you. The girls are my second family." Megan said. You noticed that the redhead's nose started to turn red, because of the cold. 

"You seem very passionate when you talk about all this-" Interrupting your speech, a couple walks past you and Megan, both of them making out. As the guy sat in the chair next to you and the redhead, the girl he was kissing climbed onto his lap, leaving you and Megan dumbfounded.   

"Is this serious?" Megan asked, as you stood up, holding out her hand to the shorter girl.  

"Come on, I don't think these idiots are going to leave anyway." Standing up, Megan took your hand in hers, letting you guide her to the back door of the house.  

"I think we'd better come in, Lara must be looking for us and you're shivering with cold." You said, taking off your jacket and putting it on the shoulders of the shorter girl. "Here, you can take that." 

As you adjusted the jacket to Megan's shoulders, the redhead admired your face. Megan already knew who you were, in fact, she always asked Lara to introduce you to her, but that never really happened. Now, with you here in front of her, she couldn't miss the chance to make the move.  

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you." Megan said, the jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders, extending to the middle of her thighs.   

You and Megan finally entered the house, people talked, drank and others kissed in the corners, it felt more like a fraternity party than a Christmas Eve party.   

"Megaann! I looked for you everywhere." A slightly drunk Daniela bumped into you, making you hold her by the waist.  

"My God Dani, how much did you drink?" Megan said, approaching the Latina and checking if everything was okay with her.   

"Yes, it's me-"   

"Shiiiu, don't tell Megan I said that, but she's very into you." The Latina spoke, after interrupting you by placing her index finger on your lips.   

"DANI!" Megan screamed, taking the girl from your arms and trying to walk her out of the house.  

"Bye, Yn. Thank you for keeping me company, we're going." Megan said, trying to save herself from the embarrassment Daniela had caused her.  

"Wait a minute, how are you going to take her like this." You said, holding the other side of Daniela as you walked with Megan.  

"It's okay, I'll order an Uber or something."  

"Let me take you." You said, making the girl hesitate. "Please, it's dangerous, let me help."   

When Megan finally agreed, you helped her put Dani in the back seat of your car, starting and then driving to the Kats' house. When you finally got there, you both started struggling to get Daniela to bed, since the Latina hadn't made the work of the two of you any easier.  

"Dani, you have to get out of the car." Megan said, pulling the blonde's arm as she held firmly in the passenger seat.   

"NO, I want to stay longer and talk to Yn." Daniela said, pouting and getting a laugh from you.  

Getting out of the car, you turned around and stood next to Megan, who was still clutching Daniela's right arm.   

"Dani, I'm here. You can get out of the car and talk to me." You said, as the blonde looked in your direction and gave you a drunken smile. 

"YN! My friend, Yn." The Latina jumped out of the car, leaning on you as she staggered towards the entrance of the house, causing Megan to roll her eyes and close the door of your car.  

 "Has Megan ever kissed you or what?" The Latina spoke directly to you.  

"DANI! Be quiet, please." Megan spoke, fumbling with the keys to the front of the house.  

When she finally managed to open the door, you helped the girl in. Daniela threw herself on the couch quickly, laughing lightly and closing her eyes soon after, not before singing a little to you and the redhead next to you.  

"Yn and Megan, under a tree, kissing, la la la la la la." 

Rolling her eyes, Megan watched the Latina fall asleep as fast as she had gotten drunk, and you thought that was your cue to go home, so you headed towards your car.   

"Thank you for everything." Megan said, crossing her arms and hugging your jacket, which was still wrapped around her.   

"It was nothing, if you need it, you know where to find me." You said, leaning against your car, and hesitating a few seconds before continuing. "So, is it true?"  

"What is truth?" Megan's face became slightly confused.  

"What Daniela said. You know what they say, drunks always say what they wanted to say sober." You said, getting a little closer to the redhead. 

Biting her lip nervously, Megan looks down at the floor, before turning her gaze back to you again.   

"What would you do if you were?" Megan asked, coming closer to you.  

Laughing lightly, you pulled a strand of Megan's hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  

"You can return my jacket tomorrow night when I come by and take you on a date." You say, a smile painting your lips.  

"yes, I think it can work." Megan said, returning your smile.  

"Of course. It's not New Year's yet, we have plenty of time." 

Hi guys, penultimate chapter of Fruitcake, I'm loving this series, but I really want it to end lol.

The truth is that I want to start finalizing and posting your requests, but things will work out

I haven't proofread it yet, so there may be some mistakes, I'm very tired bc my family is in my house.

xoxo, spider.

[daosies]

a moment in a bottle

Neuvillette wishes he could preserve this moment forever: the aquarium; the blue light; you.

(Everyone knows that Neuvillette adores you. Except for you, of course.)

(additional, more helpful description: u & neuvillette go on an aquarium date and he pines after you like a fool)

modern, college!au

NEUVILLETTE ♡ GN!READER

@2024gisecretsanta gift for @aquatik !! ♡ i hope you enjoy this piece, and happy holidays!!!

it was so fun to participate in this event ^^ thank u to the hosts and everyone involved for making this so special!!

Neuvillette has always noticed you. 

But he notices a lot of things; like the musk of the earth after it rains, like the light that dapples the campus sidewalk, seeping in between the gaps of the leaves. Neuvillette notices a lot of things, some more than others—he muses, nearly tripping over an uneven slab of the concrete floor, periwinkle eyes fixated on nothing but—

You, similarly to him, are stumbling through the crowd. You, unlike him, are entranced in your own world, eyes darting to and fro, searching amongst the sea of people while he has only ever searched for you. There are too many people in this world, Neuvillette thinks, for him to notice every one. So he notices only one. He notices—

You return his gaze (and Neuvillette feels something shiver in his chest), your lips tugging into a smile (and Neuvillette thinks the sun has shifted, that the sun has reworked itself, tunnelling all its light towards you), your figure suddenly coming closer (and Neuvillette thinks that there is nothing left; he is complete; he is yours absolutely and that is enough). 

You return his gaze. You look at him! Oh, you see him! Neuvillette thinks, This is it, this must be it. This—this… 

(What is it? Neuvillette is no longer capable of thought. He is no longer sentient. He looks at you, and something slams against his ribs: this-is this-is this-is…)

“Neuvillette! I was looking for you!” you exclaim, your voice occupying his mind for much longer than it does the air. Your voice—its unfathomable timbre, its incomparable and fantastical sound! It’s enough, it’s enough!

Neuvillette opens his mouth to respond. There’s a word. He feels himself about to vomit. He feels it: the rush, the suffocation, the gag and the swallow and before he can utter it into existence he clamps his lips shut. There’s a word—or maybe three, or maybe there is no word, nothing in verbal language that is enough to liken your unutterable radiance. 

(What is it? The three words? The rush, the suffocation, the gag and the breathlessness? Neuvillette feels it sinking down his throat, ebbing, reduced from a violent blare to nothing more than a whisper, it goes…)

“[Name],” Neuvillette acknowledges. Maybe, that is enough. “May I ask why?”

Why are you looking for him? Why are you searching for him? Neuvillette wants to hear you say it for himself, to hear the words—which are, after all, nothing more than words—in your fantastical and wonderful timbre. He wants to hear you speak his name—which is just a word, which is just his surname—to feel the revelation, the awakening, the surge! 

“Just because,”—you say, and maybe that’s enough—”I was wondering if you had any plans over the weekend?”

Neuvillette blinks, astonished. Your smile is unwavering, your eyes—your eyes! Neuvillette briefly looks away. The image remains with him still; the color, the glint, the fraction of the sun that is vested within your soul. Neuvillette looks at you, your image devoured by periwinkle. 

“I don’t,” he replies. (He had promised Furina that he’d help her with her case study.) Momentarily, his gaze averts from yours. (He had told one of his professors that he’d volunteer during office hours—who was it, again?) The lie is bitter on his tongue; but Neuvillette isn’t lying. (He’s going to send an email to the professor later, once he remembers who he promised.) Your expression glows. (Maybe this is enough.) Your gentle smile evolves into an excited grin. (He’s going to have to draft a text to Furina, too.) This is enough.

“That’s great!” You reach for your bag, sifting through the various pockets, your hand emerging with two humble, paper tickets. “I won a raffle for aquarium tickets! Do you want to come with?”

He’s whole. He’s complete. This—this is it! This is the surge, the rush, the incomparable and unutterable word! Neuvillette feels it now; the spasm of his heart, the stutter of his throat, the shrink of his figure when you do so much as perceive him! 

Your gaze sinks into his skin. Neuvillette lets it. Your smile sears his brain. Neuvillette replays it. You blink. Neuvillette’s heart follows. 

(Do you ever realize the way he lives? The way he finds meaning only ever because it dances within you?)

This-is-this-is-this-is…

“I would love to,” he replies, unable to contain the smile that tugs at his lips, the smolder in his chest, the primal constriction of his lungs, heaving, desperate to breathe the air you exist in. A breath! A tinge! A fraction of your incomparable existence! This-is-this-is-this-is…

(Neuvillette wonders if you caught it: the word. The word, although pale in comparison, assigns meaning to the enormity that swells within him, the colossal creature, the colossal completion, the vitality; you! Oh, you! When he cannot say your name, he must say this word; this—this fraction, this tiny, insignificant thing: love, love, love! You, you, you!)

“Really?” you say, eyes growing wide. Your lips hang slightly agape, your expression wild and fantastical and bright (Neuvillette thinks this is it); but the shock dissipates into that of utter joy (Neuvillette thinks this is it), and you grin that grin of yours. That grin, (Neuvillette wipes his sweaty palms against the fabric of his dress pants), a simple little something that amounts into an enormous everything. 

“Of course.” Neuvillette knows that this is it. What else, if not this? 

You look at him. His heart surges, his veins beginning to flare, his arteries spasming, flowing without an ebb, overwhelmed and incomparable (Neuvillette doesn’t need to return your gaze; he was already looking at you), insignificant and worldly. 

All you have to do is look at him! All you have to do is perceive him!

“Does noon work for you?” 

Any time works, Neuvillette thinks, any time at all. You could ask for him at four in the morning and Neuvillette would respond; you could stir him from his sleep, from his stupor, from his life. (Take him! Take him from his life! Take him, already!)

“Yes,” Neuvillette says, unable to contain the waver of his voice, the way his fingers instinctively reach to fiddle with his sleeves, “that’s perfect.” 

You look away. His heart surges, his veins beginning to flare, his arteries spasming, ebbing without flow, overwhelmed and incomparable (Neuvillette wishes you would look at him; he wishes you would perceive him, for just a moment will do), insignificant and worldly.

“Alright,” you say, grinning. “Noon it is.”

This-is-this-is-this-is…

It is, Neuvillette thinks. This is it.

Neuvillette has an unspoken routine.

Every day, he wakes up at six, even if he has no morning classes. Every day, he takes a morning walk around the city, admiring the most mundane of sights, like the glow of the lamplights, reflecting off puddles that congregate along sidewalks, like the airplane that soars by, smoke trailing in its wake.

Every day, he returns to his apartment and drinks a warm cup of water. Every day, he opens his laptop, and he sifts through his inbox, responding to different emails and updating his calendar accordingly.

Every day, he saves a slot for you. Today, he fills it in officially; the weekend; the aquarium; noon.

Every day, Neuvillette shuts his laptop, and he takes a sip of his warm water, and he thinks. Sometimes, he thinks about legal cases. Sometimes, he thinks about assignments that are due. Sometimes, he doesn’t have any thoughts at all. 

But every time, he thinks of you. You weave yourself into his daily routine, the legal cases and the assignments. You appear! Even when you’re not there; even when he hasn’t seen you in a couple days, you’re terribly real and terribly vivid. 

And somehow, despite everything, you’re unfathomable. (But Neuvillette fathoms you so often, so poignantly, it’s as if you’re tangible. As if you’re worldly when all you have ever been, to him, was esoteric. Unable to be comprehended. Unable to be conjured within thought, in any comparable magnitude to the colossal vitality that is, so undoubtedly, real. So, undoubtedly, you.)

Today, Neuvillette dons his finest coat. He fits the warmest scarf around his neck. He pats his pockets, and he adjusts his wristwatch—what time is it, again? He looks down—ten o’clock, he should start leaving now. 

The door to his apartment swings open. Neuvillette glances up.

“Neuvillette?” Wriothesley remarks, shrugging off his work uniform haphazardly, strands of his obsidian hair sticking to his skin. “You’re still here?”

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette acknowledges, “indeed, I am.”

“That’s a surprise,” Wriothesley says, pale blue eyes drifting over Neuvillette’s outfit. “What’s the occasion?” 

Neuvillette coughs into his fisted hand.

“I’m meeting with [Name] later.”

“Ah,” Wriothesley replies, smirking, “that adds up.”

Neuvillette has never considered himself to be transparent, but at the same time, he has never made it an effort to be enigmatic. But the knowing look that Wriothesley gives him is enough to make Neuvillette wonder: has he always been so plainly obvious?

Then, he thinks of you. Have you noticed how plainly obvious Neuvillette is? Have you known all along, yet never brought it up in an effort to spare his feelings?

(Have you ever wanted—for just a fraction, for just a moment—him to be so obvious? Have you ever looked at him—and held his image within your irises—when he hasn’t been looking at you (Which Neuvillette thinks, frankly, that’s impossible; he’s always looking at you)? Have you—have…)

Wriothesley chuckles. “Don’t think too hard about it. Who knows,”—he shrugs, his expression unreadable—“maybe you’ll be in for a surprise.”

Wriothesley has always known more than what he lets on; it’s just in his nature, as a part-time security guard and a student of criminal justice. 

He has never been wrong, Neuvillette thinks—his mind shifts. His mind forms an image, vivid and bright and fantastical; it’s you.

This time, however, he might be. Neuvillette thinks Wriothesley’s implications are outlandish. How could he expect a surprise from you, when you already do so much as exist?

Still, Neuvillette replies, “Maybe.”

There’s a magic that follows after your existence. It’s like the petrichor that swarms the earth after it rains; like the inevitable belief that night follows after day; like the certainty that vests within time; the fact that tomorrow will come, the fact that you are, despite everything, real. It’s unfathomable, really. Your existence. 

And Neuvillette has wondered when everything began, when the world started to shift, when the sun became more than the sun: when it became you. Maybe, it started when he was your partner in a group project back in physics class (which he barely managed to pass with your late-night tutoring and guidance). Maybe, it started when he realized that you were there throughout everything—through the years of his worst, when he loathed everyone, when he had no love in his heart, when the most mundane of things remained as they were: mundane.

Maybe, it doesn’t matter when things begin. All that matters is that they exist now.

“I should get going,” Neuvillette says, taking another peek at his watch.

Wriothesley nods. “Have fun. Let me know if there are any breakthroughs.”

Neuvillette blinks, echoing, “Breakthroughs?”

Wriothesley flashes another one of those knowing expressions. This time, all he offers is a hum. And this time, Neuvillette doesn’t pry; he gives in. Neuvillette does a lot of that—he thinks of you—giving in, and pressing onwards, and living in the unknown despite the answer being right—he thinks of you—in front of him.

He arrives at the subway station an hour and a half before noon. Neuvillette sneaks another glance at his wristwatch, thinking, I’m right on time. After taking a seat on a nearby bench, Neuvillette begins to observe, periwinkle gaze drifting across the sea of people, anchorless and free, his senses reborn as the world reincarnates anew. The air is crisp, the cold stinging the tip of his nose, puffs of condensation escaping his parted lips—Neuvillette feels everything. The fabric against his skin; the surge of life; the rush of the passerby; the frantic and erratic breath that life exhales with each gust of wind.

“Neuvillette!” a voice pierces the crowd, passing through the canal of his ear and stabbing cleanly through his heart. Although it’s just a sound, Neuvillette hears it wholly: the timbre, the tone, the familiarity of his name (which is, after all, not even his first name), the way the syllables sound sacred (and Neuvillette must attribute the fragility to the owner of the voice, not the name) despite it being uttered many times before. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… You. You! 

At your call, Neuvillette stands. His hands, unsure of what to do, reach for the sleeves of his coat, fiddling with the hem while his gaze fixates on you. Once more, periwinkle drowns in your figure. Once more, the world is right. 

“[Name],” Neuvillette replies, unable to contain the gentle smile that possesses his lips. “You’re early.”

You laugh. “You’re earlier!” 

“Yes,” he admits—this-is-this-is-this-is—“you’re right.”

The subway ride to the aquarium is peaceful. Neuvillette couldn’t have asked for anything else, because there you were, and there was the world, and there was the sun, and there you were, and—oh, did he mention that already? 

Neuvillette thinks you were the most wonderful of them all. You; your eyes, focused on the scenery outside. You; your voice, dipped into a whisper as you speak of precious little nothings which, to Neuvillette, seem to be worth everything. 

You’re radiant. Fantastically so. Neuvillette has this realization time and time again. Every time periwinkle swallows your image, and every time his heart shivers at the proximity of your presence, Neuvillette is made aware of how colossally significant you are. You’re like the world. Sublime. Wondrous.

“Neuvillette,” you suddenly say, and Neuvillette feels his ribs shudder. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

He swallows thickly—the way you say his name; oh, the way you, the way you—somehow, he finds his voice, breathing out, “It is my pleasure.”

“Neuvillette!”—and there you go again, calling his name, unaware of the spasm of his heart, the binding of his lungs—“come over here! Look, these are whale sharks!”

Oh, that’s right, Neuvillette thinks, this is your domain. Before he can open his mouth to respond, you usher him in the direction of the spotted creature, its wide mouth stretched agape while it drifts throughout the blue waters, followed by a squad of smaller fish. 

“Those are remoras,” you explain, “they attach themselves to sharks and feed off of parasites that grow on the shark’s skin.”

Oh, Neuvillette thinks, noticing the glimmer of your eyes under the aquatic light, noticing the way your words begin to slur together out of sheer excitement, unable to keep up with the tempo of your thoughts. 

You’re beautiful. 

“What are those?” Neuvillette asks, pointing towards the manta rays.

“Those are manta rays!” you exclaim. “Like the whale shark, they’re filter feeders!” 

“What does that mean?” Neuvillette queries. “To be a filter feeder?”

“It means both whale sharks and manta rays filter out the free-floating plankton drift in the water!” you say, and oh, Neuvillette thinks you look ethereal. This is your domain; the great ocean; the blue light; the knowledge; the passion. You own the sea. The world. Oh, the world! 

“Did you know manta rays don’t have skeletons? They’re made of cartilage.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Neuvillette replies, despite knowing that fact from the plethora of articles he read about marine life a couple days back. Neuvillette didn’t want to seem ignorant in front of you, a marine biology major, but at the same time, he thinks this is a much better alternative. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… 

You smile at him. “It’s all good! I go to this aquarium pretty often, so I know a thing or two.”

You’re lying, Neuvillette thinks. You know more than just a “thing or two.” You know—you know everything, it seems!

(Still, Neuvillette doesn’t pry. He does a lot of that, he supposes—he thinks of you—in your presence, and with the realization—he thinks of you—that you are, unbelievably, here. Tangible. With him. With him!)

Neuvillette wishes he could bottle this moment and keep it forever. 

He observes this aquarium through your gaze, measuring all the creatures with the same joy that you hold them to, learning all there is about different fin types and different species groups. Orcas are not fish, they are marine mammals—Neuvillette knew that too, from an article titled “What Are Orcas Truly?”—sharks breathe by swimming and passing oxygenated water through their gills—Neuvillette learned that fact last night from a video titled “Sharks Sleep While Moving!”

If he weren’t a law major, Neuvillette thinks he would’ve gone into marine biology, too. (And he wonders what it’d be like, to have the same classes as you, to be able to share this knowledge with you, to be able to discuss marine life on a higher level than the rudimentary facts you’re forced to share with him, who is unfamiliar with this world.) 

Neuvillette wishes that he knew more than what he knew. He wishes he could crawl into your brain and adore the ocean with the same passion that you have. He wishes he could share your struggles with strict lab professors, and discuss answers after difficult quizzes—but the boundary between your major and his is too large. He knows nothing. He can say nothing. He is nothing. So he opts to remain silent and stare. 

Can he ever return to this moment again? You; the blue light; the whale sharks; the manta rays; the world! Can he ever revisit this aquarium? Will you ever want to go with him again? Will you speak to him in the same, lovely voice? Will you call his name with the same, lovely timbre?

Oh, Neuvillette wants! He wants! He wants this moment! This aquarium! You!

His heart shudders.

This-is-this-is-this-is…

And the moment is ending. Everything returns to where it started. Neuvillette finds himself on the subway once more, sitting by your side, watching you watch the window, the sun setting in the horizon, the day slipping away.

He wants to bottle this: the pink hues, the orange glimmer, the blue memory, the aquarium, you. He wants to grasp this scene and slip it into his wallet, like a charm, like a reminder of the world and all that has meaning. He looks at you. He wants—and he stops there, because he’s overstepping his boundaries and that’s too much to ask for. 

A yawn escapes your lips, you apologize, muttering, “Sorry, I’m a little tired right now.” 

Neuvillette notices the lull of your head, the flutter of your lashes as you struggle to stay awake. 

“It’s alright.” His leg begins to bounce, his fingers reaching to fiddle with the hems of his sleeves once more. “If I may offer my shoulder, if you would, um… In case you would like to rest.”

Although you don’t seem to mind, or notice, the filler word that slips into his speech, Neuvillette is already questioning himself, berating his sudden inability to speak, reduced to nothing in your colossal presence. For how could he ever amount to anything if you are already everything?

“Thank you, Neuvillette.”

His heart lurches. His lungs heave. His brain falters, unable to form any coherent thought that isn’t composed, in its entirety, you.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head comes to rest against his shoulder, and Neuvillette thinks—while his leg bounces up and down, mad—that, if he could, he would bottle this moment, and—while his breath shutters, coming to a stop—and, and he would preserve it. And he would love it. This light; this subway; this world; you. Forever. 

Neuvillette has always noticed you. From the moment his periwinkle eyes first beheld your existence, from the moment the world incarnated anew, from the moment—which he wishes he could bottle—your gaze dawned upon him, when dusk dawned upon the two of you, when everything dissipated into darkness, he noticed you then. Even without sight. Even without speech. Even without his senses.

He notices you now, too. He notices the way your brow furrows when the sun’s light slips across your face, the world illuminating and perceiving your irrevocable beauty. He notices the way you turn away slightly, burying your face into the fabric of his coat, trying to escape the radiance which pales in comparison to your own.

His hand comes up to block the sun. Your expression eases. Your breathing evens out and the world is right again. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… 

Neuvillette rests his head against yours, his touch featherlight—the bounce of his leg comes to a stop—his lungs pausing, capturing the breath which holds the essence of your existence—and the moment is preserved—and the final incarnation is complete. 

This is… 

The sun’s final light disappears. The moment is over. 

Neuvillette feels your head against his. A new moment starts. 

And he supposes—without much deliberation—and he thinks—and he has thought this, for the longest of times—that this is love. 

(This is enough.)

[frogaroundandfindout]

I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"

I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT

jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god

When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.

But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.

If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.

But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.

But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.

[secriden]

Watching Joong's Hurt Me Please MV with the context of how episode 6 ended and how this is likely a song about Fadel's thoughts and feelings about Style after Finding Out, I wanted to take a deeper look at the lyrics.

I have transcribed the English lyrics on Youtube side by side with a fan translated version (credit: bl_zonee on Twitter) just because there's different shades of meaning between them that I find really interesting and I'm curious which one is the more accurate translation or if both are valid, but just give different nuance. (Perhaps a mutual who understands Thai would be willing to give some insight? *u*)

Verse 1 makes a lot of sense to me: Fadel must be wondering how Style could be so cruel ("unkind" / "heartless") because every instance of Style being honest and asking for honesty in return, all of Style's genuine desperation to bare his heart to Fadel in episode 5 and 6, now looks like a calculated, cruel deception.

And after being so afraid to reveal his secret to Style for fear that it would make Style walk away from him, there's a painful irony in Fadel now wishing Style had walked away before. Because the betrayal hurts so much more now that Fadel has given in to his heart.

The chorus is where the nuance between the translations gets interesting.

The Youtube version seems almost like Fadel is taunting Style, putting up a front that he can take the pain Style is dishing out and more. It's like he's hiding behind the bravado of being able to handle the hurt, and even more.

The MV also depicts Style smiling sadistically after slapping Fadel, as if he's enjoying the pain he's inflicting. Meanwhile, Fadel looks up almost in adoration, a strange softness in his eyes at odds with how cruelly he's being treated. The knowledge of Style's betrayal has turned Style into a monster in Fadel's mind, one which he cannot help but to still have soft, affectionate feelings.

But the fan translation sounds much more hurt and accusatory. Fadel is expressing his pain and anguish much more plainly and "you did this to me" is a line that demands responsibility.

In both translations, though, the last line ("can't get enough" / "enjoying the pain") gives us a hint that Fadel isn't willing to give Style up even now. Despite the pain, despite feeling as if he's simultaneously burning up and drowning, there's a part of him that still wants this. That still wants Style.

Interestingly, as Fadel sings the last line he begins to visibly struggle against the rope tying him to the chair. The soft look vanishes and in place is a determination and shadow that spells trouble for Style. The shock is wearing off and Fadel is starting to fight back.

Verse 2 is where the agony really hits, for me.

In both versions, Fadel recognises the way Style's love was (maybe still is?) precious to him ("your love feeds my soul" / "your love nourished my heart"). But because Style's love is a lie, it's transformed into a weapon ("poison"). It twists Style's love into a source of "hurt" to Fadel.

Which is why I think both versions have a line where Fadel admits that there's a part of him that wants Style to keep hurting him -- or rather, to keep loving him; because these are the same thing to Fadel now -- ("hurt me, make me feel used" / "the more I was hurt the more I enjoyed it") whilst also remaining accusatory ("the more I loved, the more sorrow/I suffered").

The lines about "nothing left to write about our love" / "our story" also feel very pointed and final. A closing of a chapter; a closing of the possibility of their former, uncomplicated happily ever after. Style has nothing left to write (report) back to his superiors (the police) because Fadel's love is already complete and his deception has reached the inevitable conclusion of Fadel being found out/destroyed.

All this happens while we see Style continuing to threaten Fadel with a golf club and an almost crazed expression of glee juxtaposed with flashes of Fadel and Style in much happier times.

Also the fact that this line comes with this scene *sobs uncontrollably):

The first chorus comes back once and the music reaches a plateau. We are clearly preparing for a drop, or a modulation and we get exactly that (twice!) with the second chorus:

Here, both versions converge: Fadel is angry, he's furious. Style hurt him and he's going to repay all of it and more ("you'll hurt [by much more]" / "you must suffer more than I did"). The lyrics tell us that, while Fadel cannot take back the hurt (take back his love), he can certainly ensure he isn't alone in the suffering (this love will also hurt Style).

It is at this part where my heart sank as I realised that Fadel's "I think I love you" line in episode 6 now takes on a much more sinister tone.

Because I think that discovering Style's betrayal was also what made Fadel realise the truth of his love for Style; the very agony he was in was the sign that Fadel's heart was lost to him. But even as it is true, I also think he still made the choice to ruin Style in the same breath.

A decision was made in this moment, and everything Fadel does afterwards in this scene is deliberate.

There is, however, one piece of hope:

Despite Fadel's expressed fury, what the MV shows us is Fadel breaking out of his bonds, shoving Style back and punching him once and then:

For all his anger, for all his rage, for all his threats of manifold vengeance, what we see is Fadel pressing close and kissing Style; once on the lips, and once on his chest (heart), all while the lyrics makes space for one last plea:

("don't betray me")

For me, its the way the line is shown together with this direct visual parallel between the ignorant Fadel in the past (left) and the Fadel of the present who has seen through Style's deception (right) that I find particularly compelling. Even now, even at the point of Fadel discovering Style's betrayal, there is still hope for forgiveness.

Because Fadel cannot help himself. Because Style made Fadel's bleeding heart whole again; and it beats, it feels, and despite how much it hurts, what Fadel still wants more than anything else in the world -- desperately and simply -- is Style.

[wikiangela]

Hi, a bit late but joining in on the @alliwantforchristmasislou project 🫶

I decided to donate to a polish organisation called the stonewall group (which is why the pic is in polish lol)

chose this one just because im the most familiar with this one, and they do amazing work in support of lgbt+ people and fighting for our rights in this... not so queer-friendly country 🫶

now, ive been in the 911 fandom for almost 4 years now (gonna be 4 in i think February), and i only started after the episode Buck actually bc it was allll over my dash. i binged the whole show in a week, before the next episode is even aired, I loved it SO much.

as most of y'all know, I initially shipped buddie - it was the big ship, ofc i did, i wrote so much fic for them and i had so much fun and met so many moots i still love seeing on my dash 🫶❤️ but it might've been obvious (or not, idk) i was kinda getting bored and losing enjoyment, more and more of my fics and snippets were focusing on other characters with buck or eddie, i wasnt really as into it anymore - but i still loved it and wanted to enjoy it (which ironically was killed dead later on by the buddie fandom itself lmao)

and then came bucktommy and everything changed. initially i tried not to give in but within a few days i had two fics and more ideas lol they completely took over my thoughts. ive never been this inspired to write, to create, I even learned how to make gifs for them (with lots of help from amazing talented friends 🫶🤣) during fall and winter I always get so depressed and sad and having very dark and depressing thoughts (last year my buck driving fic was a result of that lol), and its so hard to find motivation to do anything, even write. but this year, even tho I had a lil crisis moment, i wrote through it and im as inspired as always - i havent stopped writing since april. they're literally the most inspiring ship ever - and fun fact, usually i prefer writing about fanon ships, so this was a huge change and surprise

I always related to buck a lot, and especially once we got his bisexuality canon - checking out and appreciating hot people of the same sex and not realizing what it means is too real lol - and Tommy is so compelling and theres so much potential for so many stories there, I wish the show would do something interesting with him 😭 despite being so confident and cool, he feels like he's holding back some sad, maybe (probably) traumatic backstory that could be so good and interesting - and lou is such a good actor and itd be amazing to see more from him in this role

they wrote tommy as the perfect love interest for buck, and it was amazing to see it on screen, it was such a breath of fresh air to see this kind of queer representation on a network show, it was so gentle and adorable, and they initially handled it with so much care, and id love to see where they'd go from there 😭 the break up broke my heart not only because it happened, but because it felt ooc and abrupt and not at all like that's where the story was going. wish they'd fix it and give us tommy back 😭🙏

and lastly but most importantly - thanks to bucktommy, i met so many amazing friends ❤️😭 even when I was writing fics and interacting with mutuals on here, i was never really talking to a lot of mutuals, not for longer than a few messages, and now i got this wonderful community that i feel so comfortable in, everyone is so nice and friendly, and I love y'all so much, this is the best fandom experience ive ever had ❤️

thank you all, ive been having so much fun since april, i love y'all. here's to more bucktommy in 2025 ❤️

[pinkaditty]

Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’. 

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor. 

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year. 

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care. 

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for. 

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself. 

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating. 

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it. 

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it. 

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit. 

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste. 

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?” 

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break. 

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment. 

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves. 

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth. 

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots. 

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away. 

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast. 

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him. 

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks. 

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato. 

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?” 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back. 

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk. 

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself. 

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last. 

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while. 

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once. 

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now. 

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours. 

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite. 

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back. 

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it. 

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in. 

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned. 

By god, you are never getting that scarf back. 

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

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a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!